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whump-town · 3 years

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If The Lord Don’t Forgive Me

Bi!Hotch returns

I brought Charlie around for round two because sometimes you just need sweet, wholesome gay love. And it’s sweet baby (okay sweet like sour gummy worms but it is sweet and, hey, I cut the whump out just to keep it that way so you’re welcome)

There is cussing, the slight implication to sex (but not graphic and far more like “men sometimes have sex”), homophobia (I know, I know why can’t I let them live in peace?? but I have to get something out of this too and I LOVE angst), child abuse (ugh... :( sorry Hotch but if you’re showing that pretty face in a fic, I’m gonna bring up the fact that your dad hit you...), and probably something else but I doubt it’s that bad

Anyways-- cut to the gay shit but let me hit it off with some “Work Song” by Hozier because... I’m the author and I can do what I want

My baby never fret none About what my hands and my body done If the Lord don't forgive me I'd still have my baby and my babe would have me

Despite it only being eight o’clock in the morning, Aaron Hotchner feels today has aged him immensely.

The morning started with Emily knocking over an entire bookshelf. The decision to move her into his apartment was stupid and on a whim but he’s never truly felt the consequences of that until today. Which is good considering she’s been living there for nearly three years (straight from “dead” in London to living in his house) but that is not where the focus should be placed. No, it should be placed on the fact that the crash caused him to jump. A normal, knee jerk reaction but not good when in the middle of shaving.

So, he’d come running out of the bathroom-- face stinging because he’s just jerked a razor across it-- to find the living room in shambles. Emily standing on the other side of the room looking to the point of tears but only managing the barest morsel of containment and Jack, school clothes covered in milk from his cereal, lower lip trembling, and little fist clenched for some semblance of control over the tears pouring down his face.

Standing there, the three of them each taking each other in, had felt surreal. Bit by bit, they all came together. Emily wiped her nose and rubbed the tear that fell off her face. She went to get him a band-aid and he went to Jack. That setback was only a step in the wrong direction.

Truthfully, that old bookshelf needed replacement about twenty-years ago when he built it. Its bitter fall was only a matter of time and he has yet to mourn it. The mess of the shelf was easy to clean up. He’d need to take the larger pieces to a dump or ask Morgan if he knows what to do with it. The books just got stacked on the floor and the wood splinters swept up and Jack advised to stay away from there until he or Emily could really go at it a little better and make sure there was nothing left.

The hard things came afterward.

Fighting with Jack to wear other clothes. He’d picked his current milk-soaked clothes out and Jack is reliant on a schedule. Changing clothes is a deviation and no matter how patient Hotch had tried to be, he was finding it hard to keep his cool. So he’d caved rather than lose his temper over something as simple as a second grader’s clothes. So, Jack went to school today in green overalls and blue rain boots that are a little too big. He’d looked silly but he’s seven so it’s technically still cute for him to do.

As for the nice cut he’d dug into his jaw, Emily had come to inform him that the only band-aids in the house are scooby doo. So, he has wood splinters in his living room, blood all over his shirt, Jack in poorly matching clothes, and a fucking scooby doo Band-Aid on his face.

Coffee is the only thing he knows can fix this.

“Uhm--” Leave it for today to also be the day he is confronted head-on with the very repressed sexual attraction he feels for men. “Can I--” his palms are embarrassingly damp. “Can I just get a-- a large black coffee?” The muscle in his forearm flexes and he can’t really force his fingers to grasp his wallet.

The man in question raises his eyebrow but takes the order. “Alrighty,” he answers. “Do you want creamer? Sugar?”

Hotch can feel his throat tightening in and his face heating up. Thank God he’s never been the type to flush visibly or else he’d be in some trouble. He forces his eyes on to the nametag pinned to the apron over the other man’s chest. Charlie, it reads. Hotch glances back up. “Yes-- Yes, please.” If he were a blusher, he’d be beet red.

Charlie smirks at the stammered manners. It’s cute. “You got a name, suit?”

“Ho--Hotch.”

Charlie raises an eyebrow at that but he’s not going to comment. It’s unprofessional and Hotch is more than likely a nickname. He lets it go. “Hotch” comes in enough that Charlie gets used to the strange nickname but to the staff of his shop he refers to the cute stuttering agent as “suit” and it’s easy to understand why.

“A-- A date?”

Charlie is gay but he’s not sure what “suit”/”Hotch” is. He’s thinking at least a little curious because getting the poor man into a stuttering puddle of anxiety and stammering is as simple as deviating from their typical “cream and sugar” discourse.

Charlie smirks, he thinks the stammering is cute. “Suit” is such a composed guy that it is cute. “Well, yeah. Unless the terminology has changed, yeah, suit, a date.”

Hotch’s throat feels impossibly tight. He’s aware of Charlie, very aware of him and his jaw and how hard the pads of his hands are and-- “I’m--” I’m not gay “Ugh, wh-when?”

Oh. Well, he wasn’t expecting it to be that easy. “Hmm, good question. I hadn’t thought that far ahead.” Charlie sucks his lip into his mouth, thinking. He snaps his fingers with a sudden idea. He bites the Sharpie’s lid off (the one he uses to write names on the cups) and hurriedly scribbles something on a napkin. “Here’s my number. Text me and we can work that out.”

That was… months ago.

Things have been steady. Good.

Pulling in a deep breath, Aaron Hotchner plunges his head under the luke-warm water of his bathtub. Goosebumps have broken out across his skin but the cold kills the ache in his overworked muscles. Besides, he’s entirely too distracted by two things: (1) he’s too fucking big to fit comfortably in this bathtub. Knees bent, his thighs are out of the water making this bath entirely useless. (2) The very unnervingly attractive coffee shop barista who’s shop he goes to, all the time. Who just so happens to be on his way over right now, for dinner.

“Wow.”

Startled by the sound, Hotch jerks and gets a mouthful of water and suds. Coughing and pulling at his burning nose, Hotch scowls at the intruder. None other than Emily Prentiss standing at the side of the tub, one hand on her hip, and the other extending a towel to him. “Emily!”

She raises an eyebrow of indifference as if he’s the one acting oddly. “You can hold your breath for an impressive amount of time,” she says. She moves the towel in front of him, trying to get him to take it from her. He won’t move his hands from where he’s placed them over his groin.

“Emily, get out!”

“Why are you making this a big deal?” she groans, rolling her eyes. “Hotch I have seen you naked!.” She puts the towel near the edge, where he can reach it without it falling into the water or to the floor. She makes a show of planting her hand over her eyes and turning her back. “Such a baby,” she mumbles. “What is the big deal?”

He ignores her.

She hears the water moving with him as he stands, large splashes as he disturbs the surface. “You’re welcome by the way,” she mumbles. She’d thrown the towel in the dryer so it would be warm for when he got out. Contrary to his dramatics, she does love him. He’s her friend and in the same ways that he takes care of her, she makes sure someone takes care of him. “Besides,” she says, turning around despite his disapproving huff of a sigh. “I came to tell you Charlie is here.”

Hotch freezes. Ah… that’s why she’d come in. That deer in the headlights look that she doesn’t see nearly enough of. It’s silly, if not endearing, that Hotch gets so nervous for these dates. Charlie is pretty clearly head over heels for him and it’s a little surprising. Charlie all bright and cheery, a hard extravert. Perfect, always early to their dates, Charlie.

“He’s early,” Hotch stammers.

Emily nods. The date is at seven-thirty and it’s not quite six. “He knows,” she informs him, settling her hips back against the sink. She’s not watching him throw on his boxers but she’s just… standing there, talking as he drops the towel and makes quick work of drying himself off and pulling his legs into pants. “He also knows you’re in the bath so don’t go breaking your neck. I don’t want to tell your seven-foot-tall, beefcake of a boyfriend that you’ve managed to kill yourself in here.”

Hotch huffs, rolling his eyes. It would be just his luck that he breaks his neck in here while buck ass naked, with Charlie in the living room no doubt. Though, that is a bit of a ridiculous thought to care about. Here Emily is standing, casually watching him pull jeans over his boxers, having already seen him in his full glory. Charlie, even, has seen all of what he has to offer. He’s spent the majority of his life in the company of Jessica. She’s seen him in hospital gowns, bare assed which is strangely humiliating (and there’s the bonus of the repressed memories of Jessica catching him and Haley multiple times).

They’ve all seen him naked but that’s still not something he wants to deal with.

“You really do look strange in jeans,” Emily informs him as he’s shrugging on his shirt. Charlie had warned him against his more traditional polo. Evidently, he’d look like a “stiff” if he chose to wear a polo to the park. He shoots her a glare but it’s true. No matter how many times she sees him in regular clothes… she just can’t get used to it.

Charlie isn’t mean to him when he wears jeans though.

“There you are,” Charlie greets when Hotch steps out of the bathroom. The strange, beautiful thing about Charlie is that he doesn’t really care that Hotch’s life is crazy. He’d been unsettled by the grisly things that seem to occur so brutally to Hotch but he was quick, startlingly so, to remind Hotch that none of what Charlie had just been told sounded like it was Hotch’s fault. Despite Hotch’s swayed narration.

He’d thought it might be a bit strange to have Emily living in his apartment but Charlie also knew about the details leading up to that decision. The loss of Haley putting a strain on Jack’s independence and pattern of life. Being a single parent and a federal agent pulling Hotch every which way. Haley’s father, Roy, falling ill and commanding more of Jessica’s attention. Then, the fateful fall out with Ian Doyle, Emily moving to London, and the internal bleeding that had almost killed Hotch.

The last of which had been the end all be all. Emily came home and she found herself drawn back here by the less than stellar track record of her family. The abrupt decision landed her here, with Hotch, and it’s been beneficial for everyone involved.

Charlie feels a little safer knowing that when he has to go back to his own apartment, Hotch has his own apartment full of Jack and Emily waiting up for him. Even though he’s only been with Hotch a short while, he’s becoming more and more aware of the trouble that seems to follow his partner.

“Your hair is still wet!” Charlie kisses Hotch, fingers slipping easily through the soaked hair at the back of his head. “I won’t take you out in the cold until you’ve dried it. The last thing I need is you getting sick on me.”

Jack nods seriously hearing this. He’s seated beside Charlie on the couch, the two having been discussing superhero comics. It was turning into an argument when Hotch had come out (who would win between Batman and Ironman-- Charlie says Ironman and Jack Batman). “You can’t get sick,” Jack informs him firmly. “You promised you’d make pancakes for breakfast Saturday.”

Hotch raises an eyebrow, shaking his head. “All I’m good for to you people is my cooking skills.”

Charlie sucks in a breath, making a I don’t know about that, sort of face. “Just your pancakes, Aaron.” Charlie pats Hotch’s thigh the opposite of tender just downright taunting. “I love you but you can not cook or bake. You literally burn everything.”

The chorus of grunted seconding of that statement behind him feels like a betrayal but he really is bad at cooking. And math. And remembering general the most basic things. So, true but hey! “I’m going to go dry my hair,” Hotch announces, shaking his head. Sure, laugh it up now. They all need him. It’s funny now… brats.

“Get some gloves! There’s a wind chill!”

Emily huffs a laugh and Hotch turns around to catch it. He smirks at the sight of his living room, melancholy swelling in his throat. His family genuinely looks like his lesbian best friend, his ex-wife’s older sister, his son, and his 6’5 ex-college football player turned coffee shop owner boyfriend. It’s a little crazy and yet… comforting because at eighteen when he’d packed up his meager belongings to go to college, he didn’t think he was capable of having any of this.

As Charlie pulls him out the door-- hair dry-- Jack’s actively talking to them both. Something pointless but childish and so, by reason, very important. Emily’s reaching into his jacket and stuffing a pair of gloves into his pocket, throwing a scarf at his head. Jessica’s calling after them too and as soon as the door shuts Hotch pulls in a deep breath.

“They’re smothering,” Charlie informs him as they step off the porch. He offers his hand out to Hotch, scowling down at the icy steps.

Hotch hums in agreeance taking Charlie’s hand out of necessity for touch not help. “You’ll get used to it.” The implication of his statement comes to hit him centerfold but Charlie seems unaffected and Hotch is reminded that not even ten minutes Charlie had said that he loved him. “I love you but you can not cook or bake. You literally burn everything.”

I love you. I love you. I love you.

“Aaron? Did you hear me?”

Hotch blinks stupidly, looking up, and shaking his head. “No,” he mumbles regretfully.

Charlie shrugs it off. “I asked if you were hungry, yet.” Though a year is not altogether that much time, especially when compared to their ages, Charlie would like to think he has an understanding of Aaron. He does know that for certain, actually. He squeezes Aaron’s hand within his own and smiles over at him. He’s got layers, Aaron, and you have to pay a price to understand each and every one.

Somehow, that enchants Charlie. He loves it. There’s nothing he wouldn’t give up to have another layer.

“No need to pretend to be,” Charlie explains as they separate to get into his car. “You either or you aren’t. I just wondered if you wanted dinner now or after the walk.” Charlie wants his opinion. He desperately wants to understand what is going on in Aaron’s head. The thoughts he has when he gets silent like this, his restless fingers digging and rubbing.

Hotch hums, reflexively drawing his arms to his chest after he buckles himself into the car. He fidgets anxiously as he tries to figure out the correct answer. What it is that Charlie wants to hear. Charlie likes to eat early, that’s something he’s noticed. However, if Charlie’s asking him then maybe he doesn’t want to eat early. Would Charlie be hungrier after a walk? If they eat now it’ll be cold outside by the time they can get to the park. Then Charlie’s going to be mad at him because it’ll be his fault for having chosen to eat early and go to the park late. Maybe then Charlie will finally realize how stupid this whole relationship is, that he can do better, someone who isn’t like him, and--

“Hey.” Charlie doesn’t reach out and touch him. That’s a lesson he’s learned over the last few months. Hotch doesn’t mind physical touch but he’s easily unnerved by it when he doesn’t know it’s coming. Considering how lost in thought he just was, there is no way he would have seen it coming. “We can just go after, okay?”

Hotch immediately calms, “okay.” His shoulders fall from where he’d slowly, stiffly brought them up. He nods his head, looking down to his lap, while Charlie drives. He has to calm down.

He looks over, catching Charlie’s smooth movement. His arm is on the center console, palm up in a common gesture waiting for Aaron to take his hand. He blinks for a moment, mind slowly turning over exactly what this is. Glancing at Charlie, Hotch slowly lifts his hand up and shyly slots his fingers between his. Smiling when Charlie doesn’t even react much more than a pleased grin.

Oh, he thinks calmly. He likes holding Charlie’s hand. He likes Charlie. The way that he just fills the silence without ever expecting Hotch to return the vigor. Simply requiring Hotch remain engaged with the occasional hum of understanding or scowl of confusion. And Hotch loves that so much more-- that he never has to find the words to explain that he doesn’t understand. Charlie just knows.

“You can’t.”

Charlie frowns, turning to glance at Hotch. “What do you mean?” That’s where the compensation occurs-- Charlie is awful at remembering things. He forgets his dry cleaning, appointments that he set up, holidays, birthdays, weekend plans-- everything. Hotch seems to forget nothing.

Hotch looks out the window of the passenger side, feeling the cold seeping in from the door, but docile and contently closes his eyes to narrow his attention to Charlie’s thumb rubbing lazy patterns on the back of his hand. “On the twenty-third you have interviews for waiters. Your morning, at the very least, is packed.”

Charlies frowns, well shit. “You know,” he says, giving Hotch’s hand a little squeeze. “If you just came to work with me, I wouldn’t have to have those interviews. It would fix so many of both of our problems.”

Hotch turns his head, smirking at Charlie. Not true. It would fix some of their issues-- how much time Hotch’s job steals from them, Charlie’s need for more staff. However, Charlie just wants him working there because Charlie thinks Hotch would look hot in the apron (actually, he knows Hotch is hot in the apron).

They arrive at the park and the two get out. Charlie immediately regrets coming out in this weather.

The grass crunches under Hotch’s feet but he enjoys the way the snow muffles so much of the noise around them. Leaving nothing but the few courageous birds watching them from their perches. It’s a safety Hotch finds entirely enrapturing. Enough to not mind the cold at all and how Charlie’s been fussing with his own clothes since they set off.

Hotch is just walking along. His hands are cold but not enough to ache and with Charlie’s covering the majority of his right hand, he can slip the left into his pocket. It’s not until Charlie squeezes his hand to get his attention that they stop, that Hotch pulls his attention to his partner and away from the scenery.

Charlie pulls him by the lapels of his dark jacket, turning him so that they’re standing facing one another. The toes of their shoes bumping together. “Come here,” Charlie instructs, words a cloud of condensation around them. He wastes no time in pulling the hat off of his own head to pull it down over Hotch’s. Smiling when it smushes his overgrown bangs against his forehead. “I don’t want you getting an ear infection out here. Gotta keep you healthy.”

Hotch shyly grins, looking down at the ground, “I’ll be okay.” He still turns his cheek into Charlie’s palm, letting him wrap that hand around the back of his neck, turning his chin up to kiss him. His lips are cold and the tip of his nose feels frozen. “It’s not that cold.”

Charlie shrugs and Hotch doesn’t pull the hat off.

“You outta be disgusted by yourselves.”

Hotch flinches, recoiling from Charlie and bowing his head rather than to look up and see who it is shouting at them. But Charlie is not new to this little game and he straightens his back and raises a questioning brow. “Oh? Should we?” He glares down at the woman on the track, it’s clear she’d been running before she decided to come nosing her way into their business. “I’d appreciate it if you left us alone, ma’am. We aren’t hurting anyone.”

She scoffs.

Charlie stands still, unwavering. They’re big men. Hotch may be a force to be reckoned with but Charlie is not, by any means, small. They’re the same height and the woman in question is a petite blonde. They’re intimidating. She rolls her eyes, shaking her head disgusted but stalks off. Whispering under her breath about hell and how their time will come.

“What a hag,” Charlie grumbles, rolling his eyes and reaching down between them to take Hotch’s hand. He steps to move on but he feels the resistance in Aaron. His hand now loosely holding on to Charlie, fingers lightly hooked together. “Aaron--”

Hotch forces himself to take a steadying breath-- drop his shoulders, unclench his jaw, inhale slowly. His eyes peel up off of the ground and he knows he hasn’t moved fast enough. Creases of worry have broken up Charlie’s handsome face, tension that doesn’t belong there. “I--”

Charlie shakes his head, discouraging Hotch’s lame excuse. “What she said…” Charlie can’t tell Hotch that what she said shouldn’t affect him. That he should brush it off and not worry about what a small minded bitch has to say about them but that’s not fair. None of this ever really is. Not when it comes to Aaron. “She doesn’t matter, Aaron. You. You matter to me, okay?”

Hotch furrows his brows, letting out an aggravated puff of air as he fails to work through the shame burning his chest.

Charlie looks around them, tapping his fingers as he contemplates what he should do. “Do you--” How, in all of Virginia did he manage to get the one DILF, Unit Chief with the inability to make a decision or admit what he needs? He means it fondly, of course, but sometimes he’d like to lovingly shake some sense into this man.

Taking a calming moment, Charlie knows that his ability to play out this next scene is vital to his afternoon. If Aaron detects even a fraction of impatience, anger, or frustration he’ll shut down and then Charlie is going to have to spend days if not weeks working Aaron back to where he is now.

“It’s cold out here,” he states calmly. Aaron glances at him, sniffling and rubbing at his wind burned nose. “I’m hungry, I-- I forgot my lunch at home this morning.” Even though Aaron bought him a bright, hunter’s orange lunch box that sits painfully on his kitchen counter so that he has to see it. “What do you say we turn back for the car and surprise Jack with an early return? Order pizza? Watch some Scooby Doo?”

Aaron sniffles again, glancing at Charlie and then to the path they’re clearly meant to be headed on. “But…” he clears his throat. He can’t stand being like this. The anxious partner. The fucked up partner. He was with Haley. Now he is with Charlie. And, well, everyone knows how Haley played out. “You-- You wanted to walk.”

Charlie shakes his head, smiling and playfully poking Hotch’s chest. “No, I want to spend time with you.” Though he’s terrified Aaron will recoil from it, he makes the careful decision to touch him. Smiling when Aaron just looks back at him, searching for something but Charlie isn’t mad so Aaron won’t find what he’s looking for. He strokes Aaron cheek, “I’m cold. You’re cold. We can walk if you want but…”

Hotch looks back down the trail and shakes his head. No, he doesn’t want to walk.

Charlie feels pretty proud of himself. He’s pretty good at this.

And Jack is thrilled to have them back.

Hotch feigns hurt when Jack runs straight past him to Charlie. “Am I chopped liver?” But his light, fluttering chest betrays him and he can’t help a soft smirk as Jack holds Charlie’s hand. Charlie nodding, listening to Jack as he kicks his shoes off.

Emily appears at the mouth of the hall, frowning at the sight before her. She’s in different clothes from when they left. One of her dating apps having finally come through and delivered her plans for this lovely evening. She was just about to call Hotch to tell him she was going to have to call Jessica to watch Jack. “What are you doing back?”

Before Hotch can overthink the question Charlie smirks and motions over his shoulder, “it’s like ten degrees out there. Way too cold for a walk, don’t know what I was thinking.”

Good enough excuse for Emily, she doesn’t care. She has other things on her mind. “I have a date.” Both Aaron and Charlie look surprised. Which is annoying but she won’t engage them in conversation because she’s better than that. “So, I will be out of your hair this afternoon.”

Well, kind of. She steals some of their pizza before she leaves. Even sits down for an episode of Scooby Doo before her date texts and says she’s ready.

“Well, boys,” she leans down and kisses the top of Jack’s head. Wishing him a good night and a whisper to make sure he’s extra good for his father when Hotch puts him down tonight. “I’m off. I will see you in the morning.” She offers Charlie a cordial head nod and Hotch gets his hair messed with as she passes.

“Be careful,” Hotch calls as she shuts the door.

It doesn’t take long for Jack to fall asleep and Hotch can feel himself slipping with Charlie leaning against him, his hand on the inside of Hotch’s thigh. Warm and comfortable, he doesn’t want to get up. But he manages to get Jack to bed with minimal fighting-- they agree to keep his nightlight, the hall light, and the bathroom light on. Emily even sends a text to confirm that she hasn’t been murdered by her date, he rolls his eyes but appreciates the sentiment.

It’s a good night, all things considered.

For a while, at least.

He’s in bed. Boxers shifted low on his hips as lays atop his beaten, threadbare comforter. The thick, heavy heat of an August night settling thickly over his bones. A blanket of sweat shining on his chest, just barely visible from the light of the hallway peaking into his cracked door. Downstairs, his parents roar on. He can make out every word spoken but if he hums just enough and presses his fingers into the thin mattress until it hurts he can numb out the world.

Nothing.

He thinks about Scott from his biology class. His booming laughter, already having hit his growth spurt and though only sixteen standing over them all in a man’s body. Thick with muscles that Aaron had felt when Scott had pulled him in for a tight, jovial bear hug. Perhaps he’d imagined it but for a split second Aaron had seen a flash of something-- warmth that he, himself, still can not name.

Closing his eyes, he brings back the heat of his stomach. A smile pulling at his lips as he thinks about how it felt pressed to Scott’s chest. Swallowed by the other’s boy’s body. The ache between his hips increases. It’s bad and it’s ugly but it’s Scott that he thinks about. It’s Scott that he wants.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Aaron scrambles upright, both hands planted on the bed as he scurries away from its edge and anywhere near where his father might be able to grab one of his frantically moving limbs. Still, a rough hand is thrown out and Aaron yelps in surprise as his body is yanked to the edge. He can’t hear the words being thrown at him, just looks at his drunken father screaming. Sees his mouth move but knows nothing of their meaning.

He’s wrenched up and out of bed, scrambling to keep up with the direction in which he’s pulled down the hall. To the large, cast iron clawfoot tub in the bathroom. He’s thrown chest first into it’s cold edge, his fingers wrapping tightly around the biting cold of the rim. He knows his fate long before his father’s broad hand grabs onto his hair and hauls him up just enough to push him down into the cold, soapy water.

His ringing ears hearing the slurs being thrown at him. Faggot. He screams as his father punches his exposed chest, causing him to gasp, the bubbles of air hitting his face. He’d used that word before. Thrown it at another boy the way rocks had been thrown at him for doing the same thing-- being too small, wearing weird clothes. He wonders exactly how it is that he can change because he tries. Good Lord, he tries so hard.

“Aaron.”

His vision blacks out for a moment and he’s lifted from the water. Everything feels strangely familiar. He can’t feel the cold water. Can’t feel the water dripping down his face.

“Aaron!”

He can’t expel the water in his throat. The hand on the back of his head tightens as water and his dinner come up, hot and wet against his chest as he’s moved mid-choke. His head goes under and he screams, grabbing frantically at his father’s hand on his head.

“Aaron--”

Screaming Aaron fights weakly against the hands touching him. It takes a moment for the uncoordinated sweeps of his arms to connect with nothing. For him to get a proper amount of space to breathe. The ringing numb of his ears slowly dies and he feels the world creeping back in around him. He blinks into the darkness, chest heaving First, the dull clicking of fan in the corner of the room. It sweeps left to right, pauses, and comes back right to left. Then the hobbling, swinging of the fan above him. Cold air.

He’s not there in that tiny, suffocating town. In that too-big house with too many places to be seen and not nearly enough to hide.

“You fucking scared me,” pants someone behind him.

A large hand plants itself between his shoulder blades, the bed dipping as weight is moved across it’s top. His body flinches but he’s only minutely aware of the physical movement and, slowly, the rest of him leans into the warmth of the palm. Tears swell as he turns over his shoulder, eyes closed, and going blindly where he knows arms will enclose him. Protect him. “Charlie,” he finally recognizes. His face finds the other man’s shoulder and he feels, rather than hears, the sob that leaves his grimacing lips.

Charlie wraps his arms around Hotch’s shoulder, pulling him closer.

Hotch gives himself over, leaning completely into him. Gently, Hotch feels Charlie moving parts of him to adjust them back onto the bed. “Do you want to talk about it?” Charlie lays back, pulling Hotch’s knee so his hips cant against Charlie’s. The inner side of Hotch’s thighs lies laying across his. There’s no need to open his eyes, to fight. He knows he’s safe.

His tears have slowed but there’s no denying something big has happened. Lately, Hotch has noticed Charlie pushing for him to open up more but Charlie and Hotch’s childhoods are nothing alike. It’s hard to tell him about the dozen times his father put him in the hospital, each time with a better story than the last, and always Hotch’s fault. Had the whole town believing Hotch to be some miscreant kid.

And he was bad but not the sense that was ever true. He’d smoked and drank but that was small-town stuff. Everyone gets into that sort of thing one way or another. He’d had sex but no one he and his partners knew about that, his male partners, anyhow. The first time he’d slept with Haley he’d been proud to have fallen for a woman.

There was an old run-down barn that he’d take boys out to. There was one wall, facing the woods, that was strong enough to support weight and you could lean up against it. He’d been caught only once and the old farmer had beaten him with the wooden end of a rake. The other boy had managed to run off. Hotch’s pants had pooled against around his ankles and the other boy hadn’t taken his completely off his hips. That was a mistake Hotch only made that one time. Not that it would have mattered.

After that day, everyone knew what he was.

Which is what bred his nightmare. Though, that night had gone nothing like his dream. He’d come home with welts and broken ribs from the beating that old farmer gave him. As soon as he opened the door, he knew what was waiting for him. It was from the first floor that his father had dragged him, by his hair, to the second floor. Where Sean’s dirty bathwater sat cooling all afternoon.

But Hotch won’t tell Charlie about that day. It’s not worth it. So he changes the subject. “We need to clean the sheets,” Hotch finally sniffles. His voice is rough from the night’s activities and he remembers what they’d done before he’d fallen asleep and knows that surely did not help. Under his left hip, there is dampness to the old cotton sheet, like something wet has been drying. Sheets probably should be replaced but these are the back-up sheets and the goods ones are in the dryer.

Charlie hums, a vibration that Hotch can feel all the way down to his toes. “That would be your mess,” Charlie informs him matter-of-factly. Pressing his lips to Hotch’s forehead. “I did try to clean you up if you recall.” Charlie’s fingers have wrapped protectively around Hotch’s body, thumb lazily rubbing back and forth over his bare hip. “You told me to fuck off so…”

He remembers. He was still sensitive, shaking with exertion, and hadn’t taken kindly to Charlie dragging a slightly too cold wash rag over his ass. First of all, it was way too wet and secondly, it was cold. What was he to do other than protest?

Charlie’s chest shifts underneath his head as he bends to look at the clock. Yawning deeply Charlie pulls the blankets back over them both, rubbing at Hotch’s hip. “Let’s get some sleep,” he mumbles around another yawn that manages to overtake his breath. “Don’t be afraid to wake me up,” Charlie mumbles. “I want you to wake me up, capeesh?”

Hotch closes his eyes and turns a little more into the warmth of Charlie’s body. Trying to think of nothing. To slow the rapid progressions of his thoughts. There is no way that this was a good idea. A relationship. A life. He brought Haley into his world and looked at what happened. He’s a swirling storm of trouble, sucking in the best parts of the world and ruining them. He’s a liar.

“I love you, Aaron,” Charlie whispers, straining his neck to kiss the top of Hotch’s head. His hand holds Aaron still against him. “I don’t want you to be lying here suffering afraid to talk to me.”

I love you. I love you. I love you. That’s not good. It can’t be. He’s not worth that. Charlie is great. He’s gentle and he’s kind and he’s loving and Hotch can’t even decide when they should eat. If a walk in the park is better than a movie.

“You have not tricked me.” He wonders how Charlie sees so clearly into his mind. It’s not mind reading, Charlie can feel his pounding heart and tense muscles. He’s always so tense. “I love you completely, entirely, enchantingly by choice.” Charlie sighs softly. Content. He wishes desperately to bring Aaron the same peace that Aaron brings him. It's a content, pleased sigh that leaves his mouth and that confuses Aaron so much. No louder than a whisper, seemingly more to himself than to Aaron Charlie whispers. “There are worse life sentences than to be tricked into falling in love with you.”

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #jack hotchner #bi!hotch #tw homophobia #tw child abuse #criminal minds fanfiction

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waitimcomingtoo · 5 years

Note

Hello there! I hope you’re having a lovely day. Any chance you’d write a fake dating story with Tom?

That Day in the Rain

Synopsis: Tom lies and tells Haz you’re his girlfriend, who tells the world

Masterlist

Requests are CLOSED

I have added the “keep reading” tab a thousand times and it won’t stay I am so sorry

“Before I say anything, I’d like you to think about how much you love me.” Tom said once you opened your door to him.

“God, what the hell did you do?” You asked him with wide eyes.

“And how much I love you.” Tom continued as if you never interrupted.

“Is there a body?” You whispered harshly. “Are you making me an accessory?”

“And most importantly”, Tom went on with a boop on your nose, “think about all the times you told me you’d do anything for me.”

“Oh my God, he’s killed someone.” You groaned and gave your hair a stressful tug.

“This is one of those times.” Tom went on as if you weren’t talking.

“Who was it? A stranger? Harry? Jake?” You badgered. “Tom, please tell me you did not kill Jake Gyllenhaal.”

“I didn’t kill anyone! Why is that your first guess anyway?” Tom sounded almost insulted. “I just need a small, teeny tiny favor.” He said as he pinched his fingers together.

“What might that be?” You folded your arms.

“I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend.” Tom said in a rushed voice.

“You need me to what?” Your voice dropped.

“I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend.” Tom repeated, whining a little in the adorable way that he did. “Just for a little while.”

“Have you been staying up on tumblr again?” You raised an eyebrow. “You want to have a fake relationship? That is so Harry Styles x yourname, it’s unbelievable.”

“I haven’t.” Tom promised. “It’s just, the paparazzi took a picture of us Lady and the Tramp-ing that Kit Kat last week, so rumors have been off the charts. And then today, Haz and I were having you know a discussion over who’s braver and what not. He said he was because I couldn’t even ask a girl out, to which I replied, “I damn well could”, which we both know-“

“-you cant.” You cut in.

“I can’t. Exactly!” Tom excitedly agreed. “But I wasn’t about to let him win and he just kept teasing me over it so I snapped and “you know why I can’t ask girls out? I have a girlfriend.”, which we both know-“

“-you don’t.” You finished his thought.

“I know!” Tom exclaimed. “But he was really getting to me and I panicked. So he went, “oh yeah? Who?” all macho,” Tom imitated Haz’s voice in a buff manner, “and I started to panic right because I don’t actually have a girlfriend so I was just gonna say a random name but yours was the first that came to my head and I said it.”

“If it’s just Haz, why can’t you tell him you were kidding?” You asked.

“Because he started saying how he knew it all along and I was an idiot to think people didn’t know we were together.” Tom said sheepishly, taking sudden interest in the floor.

“But we’re not.” You stated.

“Apparently everyone thinks we are.” Tom scratched the back of his neck. “So of course, he told Harry who told Sam who told my entire extended family and now my mom is asking me about grandkids and I don’t know what to do!” Tom said in one breath. His eyes were full of panic and you knew he was beginning to spiral.

“Okay, okay.” You said soothingly and put your hands on his cheeks. He immediately stopped panicking and softened his eyes. “Don’t panic. Your family thinks we’re together, so what? We can pretend we’re dating for a little bit and then have a fake mutual break up. No big deal.”

“My mom wants you and your parents to come over for a family dinner tomorrow. Is that too much too soon?” Tom asked, bringing his hands up to your wrists and rubbing soft circles into them.

“Well, we have only been dating for about three minutes.” You joked.

“If you’re uncomfortable, we won’t do it. I’m okay with the years of embarrassment and ridicule I’ll have to deal with if you won’t pretend to be my girlfriend.” Tom sighed dramatically and drummed his fingers on your wrist. You rolled your eyes and pursed your lips.

“Just one dinner?” You held up on finger.

“Just one dinner.” Tom held up a finger and touched it to yours. You couldn’t help but smile.

“Alright, boyfriend.” You emphasized the last word, much to his amusement.

Tom picked you up, spinning you around and kissing your cheeks.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Tom squealed and set you down.

You prepared for the dinner like it was a final at school. You and Tom rehearsed the facts, well, fiction.

“We could say I first kissed you that one time my car broke down in the rain and we had to wait for the mechanic. Remember that?” Tom suggested with a shy smile as you drove to his parents house.

“I remember. We stood in that rain for hours because someone locked their keys in the car.” You laughed at the memory from the passenger seat.

“Well someone was distracted because someone else looked really pretty with raindrops in their hair.” Tom defended. You gave him a bright smile before leaning over and kissing his cheek.

“What was that for?” Tom chuckled.

“Just practicing. We have to be convincing, don’t we?” You shrugged as Tom pulled into the driveway. He kept his hand on your back as you walked up the walkway.

“We should probably hold hands. You know, for effect.” Tom suggested with pink cheeks.

You shyly slipped your hand into his as he rang the bell. Tom gave you an assuring squeeze.

“Tom! Y/n! Come in! Everyone’s here!” Nikki smiled as she opened the door. You walked inside, hand in hand and made your way to the table. Tom pulled your seat out for you and let you sit. You gave him a ridiculous smile as you sat down, finding it hilarious that your awkward-around-girls best friend was now pulling your seat out for you like a proper gentlemen. Everyone sat around the table, and the games began.

“So, Y/n, how long have you and Tom been together?” Dom asked, making polite conversation right away.

“A year.” You answered.

“Four months.” Tom said at the same time. You and him exchanged a look of panic before plastering on fake smiles.

“A year and four months.” You nodded, and everyone excepted it.

“You’ve been together for over a year and you never told us?” Your mom cut in.

“They didn’t have to. It’s not like everyone didn’t already know.” Dom laughed, and you and Tom let out fake laughs as a response.

“What do you mean?” You said through your fake laughter. You squeezed Toms leg under the table and gave him a scared look.

“Well, Tom talks about you all the time. I feel like I know everything about you, just from what he’s said. It’s funny, almost. He was never good in school because he couldn’t memorize facts, and yet he knows every detail about you like the back of his hand. I’ve never seen my son so enthralled as he is by you. He’d give you the damn world if you asked for it.” Dom quipped before taking a sip of his wine.

“Haha, very funny dad.” Tom said through a clenched smile. You furrowed your brows at the news.

“I’m not being funny. I was so happy when Sam told us you were an item because I know you’ve wanted it for so long. I’m proud of you, Tom. You’re really going after your dreams.” Dom said with a raise of his glass.

“Thanks, dad.” Tom said in a more sincere tone, feeling a little guilty for not being able to make his dad proud.

“What about you? Did Y/n keep it a secret that long from you too?” Nikki asked your parents.

“Oh dear.” You gulped. Tom sensed your fear and took your hand, under the table. You found it a little odd, since you were trying to fake a relationship but he was holding your hand out of sight. Nonetheless, you appreciated it.

“She just told us last night. We weren’t surprised either. Well I wasn’t. Y/n’s father just went “Tom who?” and went back to his newspaper. But I’ve known Y/n was in love with Tom since the day they met. She came home on the first day of school and told me she met the her future husband.” Your mom gushed. You sucked in your breath and avoided Toms piercing gaze.

“Alright, alright. I was six.” You defended. “Everyone has crushes when they’re six.”

“But it was so sweet! He used to come over everyday, and she’d talk about him all night when he left. I was so happy when she finally admitted they were together. I just thought it was closer to three years, not one.” Your mom went on, much to your embarrassment.

“You’ve thought Tom and I were together for three years and you didn’t say anything?” You wondered in amazement. Did the whole world see something you didn’t?

“I didn’t want to pry.” Your mom shrugged.

“I’m curious, Mrs. L/n. How did you know we were together?” Tom leaned forward on his hands with an amused grin, loving the embarrassment you were feeling.

“Oh, are you kidding? It’s like she wanted me to know. All the times I’d ask her where she got a T shirt or a sweatshirt and she’d go, “it’s Tom’s” ,with the reddest face you ever saw. I’m pretty sure she uses one of your shirts as a pillow case, right Y/n?” Your mom asked you from across the table. You gave her wide “shut up mom” eyes.

“Mom”, you fake laughed, “thats enough.”

“You do!” She exclaimed. “I remember now because I asked you why you did it and you told me you missed him. Isn’t that sweet? She missed her boyfriend.”

“I did that when I was little.” You told the table.

“Oh, but it was just last week that you said that.” Your mom said, completely oblivious to your efforts to make her stop. Tom, for one, was loving every second of this.

“Last week?” He said as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

“She’s old.” You shook your head. “She forgets.”

“No I don’t. I remember it perfectly.” Your mom got ready to set the scene. “I came in your room at like three am and asked you where you got the pillowcase from. You got all shy about it, remember? Apparently it was his favorite shirt or something. I should’ve told you right then and there that I knew. What girl would care about a silly T shirt if she wasn’t in love with the guy who owned it?”

“Haha, yeah. Because we’re so in love, right Tom?” You looked at him with panic seeping in. Tom burst out laughing and took both your hands in his.

“That’s right, Y/n. I love you so much.” Tom matched your slightly sarcastic tone before switching to a more genuine one. “More than you know.”

You and Tom stared into each other’s eyes, having a real moment amidst the chaos.

“Yeah, no. I don’t buy it.” Harry interrupted.

“Buy what?” Tom asked.

“This whole thing.” Harry gestured between you two. “There’s no way you’re actually together. I don’t buy it.”

“Me either.” Sam chimed it with a look of disapproval. “It’s too forced.”

“It’s not forced. We’re in love.” Tom defended sharply. A little too sharply, for a fake relationship.

“No, I believe that part.” Harry laughed a little. “But I don’t believe that you’ve actually told each other that.”

“Boys, please.” Nikki scolded.

“But think about it, mum. Didn’t Tom say he had a thing for Y/n two weeks ago? How can you have a thing for your own girlfriend?” Harry brought up. You felt your heart stop a little at this revelation. Did he really say that? You looked to Tom for answers, who looked at you in fear.

“It’s possible.” Tom said quickly.

“Is it, Tom? Is it really?” Harry pressed.

“Or is it possible you’re pretending to date to get us off your back?” Sam pilled on. Tom wasn’t enjoying this as much anymore now that the attention was on him.

“More tea, anyone?” Nikki pipped up.

“We’re not pretending. It’s real.” You came to Toms defense.

“Do you smell that, Sam?” Harry snuffed the air around him.

“Yup.” Sam nodded and sniffed the air. “I smell clownery.”

“It’s not fake.” You burst out. “I’ll prove it.”

You turned to Tom, who met you with a confused gaze. Your eyes fell to his lips, and hesitated for a moment. It felt like the whole world was holding their breath as you leaned in and planted a kiss on his lips. He stiffened from initial shock before melting into you and cupping your face with his hand.

Right as your lips touched, you saw white lighting flash behind your eyelids, like the flash of a camera. You kept the kiss short, being you were in front of your family and all. When you pulled away, Tom looked at you in a way he never had before. You plastered a smile on your face and turned back to Sam and Harry.

“See? We do that all the time.” You shrugged as if the biggest moment of your life didn’t just happen.

“I stand corrected.” Sam said, visibly impressed.

“Then congratulations, Tom.” Harry said. “You finally got the girl you’ve been pining over for years.”

“Haha, yeah.” Tom mumbled, never taking his eyes off you. You were too busy talking to Nikki to notice Toms love struck gaze.

After dessert and helping to clear the table, you and Tom said your goodbyes and got into his car. As soon as he pulled away from the house and hit a red light, you high fived in celebration.

“That was great! They totally bought it.” You cheered.

“Our parents especially.” Tom agreed. “Good thinking with that kiss.”

“Oh, thanks. I just wanted to prove to Harry and Sam that we’re actually in love.” You said, eyes immediately widening. “I mean, pretend love.” You followed up.

“Yup. Pretend love. I was definitely pretending to be in love with you tonight.” Tom let out an awkward loud laugh. “Especially in that dress.” He fake laughed even harder.

“Oh, me too. I was pretending so hard that I’ve been in love with you all this time. Total make believe.” You nodded way too many times and kept your eyes on the road.

“I hear you. And that kiss? I was totally pretending to enjoy it. I completely forgot it even happened.” Tom shrugged with a squeaky voice.

“Me either. I’m definitely not thinking about it right now.” You told him.

“Oh, same. I’m not even thinking about your cherry chapstick transferring onto my lips and leaving a taste in my mouth.” Tom laughed again, sounding almost like he was in pain.

“It’d be a shame for us to continue this conversation and find out what tonight meant to the other.” You said sarcastically but attempted to sound sincere.

“You know what I’m thinking?” Tom said with a scarily huge smile.

“Pretend tonight never happened?” You finished his sentence, as always.

“Yup! You always know what to say.” Tom admired, sneaking a glance at you in the mirror. On the inside, he was dying to talk about the night. But you seemed to agree that it should be let go of.

“We’re just so in sync.” You faked a smile as you drifted further and further from the real conversation you wanted to have. “You’re the best fake boyfriend ever.”

“I totally don’t want to be your boyfriend for real.” Tom declared with fear in his eyes and a forced laugh. You were both saying the opposite of how you felt, and neither of you knew it.

“Me either. I’ve never even thought about it.” You lied.

“I know, right? I’ve never thought about holding your hand or being the little spoon or braiding your hair when you’re too tired because you stayed up all night helping me learn lines because you’re so selfless and kind that it makes my heart swell and burst.” Tom shrugged. “That’d be crazy, right?”

“Insane.” You agreed, replaying his words in your mind.

“But imagine if we really did get together, though?” Tom said as if he just thought of it. “I wonder what it’d be like if we went on a real date.”

“I bet it’d be terrible.” You forced a laugh. You knew it’d be magical.

“Oh, awful.” Tom agreed, despite the blatant lies. He felt hurt at your words, not knowing they were completely fabricated.

“The worst.” You nodded, feeling a little hurt at the confirmation that he didn’t feel the same. “That’s why we’re just faking it. But I have to admit, it’s pretty fun being your girlfriend. Almost makes me want to fall in love with you.” You said as a joke, but meant every word.

“Haha, I am in love with you.” Tom blurted in the same cheerful tone you’d both been using. The car filled with awkward silence as Tom drove on.

“But just pretend, right?” You asked softly.

“Right.” Tom nodded and cleared his throat, no longer looking at you in the mirror. “Just pretend.”

You got back to your shared apartment and flopped on your bed. You tried to push the nights events from your mind and went to sleep.

The next morning, your phone was nearly dead from blowing up all night. You had hundred of notifications, but only one caught your eye.

harryholland64 tagged you in a photo

You clicked on the notification and it brought you to his page. Right there, for the world to see, was you and Tom pecking each other on the lips. The caption was sweet and simple.

“lover boy.”

Your initial reaction was your heart swelling. That white lightning you saw during the kiss turned out to be the flash of Harry’s camera, but you felt oddly grateful that he’d captured it at all. Otherwise, the memory would fade with time and you’d forget how momentous that night was. Harry had immortalized that spontaneous kiss, and then sent it out into the world.

That was your second reaction.

Harry had upwards of a million followers, and anything he posted of Tom was inevitable posted in every single fan account in existence. That night was no longer between your respective families. Every marvel fan was about to get the surprise of a lifetime. Tom had been steadily denying a romantic relationship with you since he found success with Billy Eliot. All the news reporters wanted to know if the little girl in pigtails doing the dances in the wings and cheering the loudest was “Toms little girlfriend”. It’d only gotten worse when social media took off and your face was splashed all over Toms Instagram. He could count on being asked about you every time he was interviewed. This picture was nothing but air to the fire. There was no going back from it. Harry had unknowingly let all he’ll break loose, all because of a stupid, stupid, amazing kiss.

“Tom!” You screamed. Tom rushed to your room and you immediately held up the photo for him to see.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know he was gonna post it.” Tom apologized, having already seen it. “But it’s up and there’s nothing we can do about it. On the bright side, people are being really supportive.”

“To you!” You cried. “I’m getting death threats from 12 year olds!”

“I’m so sorry, Y/n. I never meant for this to happen.” Tom said sincerely as he knelt next to your bed and took your hand.

“You need to post something about us breaking up.” You said as you pulled your hand away from him. Tom faltered and blinked in surprise.

“You said you’d pretend.” He reminded you with hurt evident in his voice.

“Yeah, for one dinner!” You whined, eyes landing on the amount of likes the picture had already. “The whole world knows now Tom. And there’s nothing to know! I’m getting harassed for dating you and we’re not even dating.”

“I think there’s something to know.” Tom mumbled, feelings once again hurt.

“Tom.” You whined and took his hand. He hesitated before putting his hand over yours and looking you in the eyes.

“They’re just want what we have.” He said gently. “They know you’re the most important girl in my life and you always will be. Can you blame them for being a little jealous?”

“No.” You admitted, a small smile creeping onto your face.

“Listen.” Tom tucked your hair behind your ears and cupped your face. “I can put an end to the hate. My fans will listen to me if I tell them to stop. My publicist wants us to do an interview together tomorrow on Ellen. If we go on and explain that we want our relationship private, people will leave it alone. We won’t have to pretend. People thought we were dating before anyway right?” Tom asked and you nodded. “Nothing has to change. Just do this one interview with me.”

“How am I supposed to lie to the whole world that I’m in love with you?” You asked. Toms heart fell and he prayed you couldn’t tell how much that hurt him.

“It’s not lying. It’s pretending. You can pretend to be in love with me for ten minutes, can’t you?” He asked a little bitterly before mumbling under his breath, “I’ve been pretending I wasn’t in love with you for ten years.”

“What?” You asked, not hearing him.

“Nothing. Will you please do it? I can do all the talking. You just have to sit there and look pretty.” Tom promised. You looked at his puppy dogs eyes before sighed.

“Fine.” You agreed.

You smoothed your dress and took one last look in the dressing room mirror just as Tom came in.

“Y/n, I belive I told you to look pretty. I never said anything about looking as radiant as the sun.” Tom teased as he wrapped his arms around your waist. You looked at his and your reflection in the mirror and told yourself he was only doing it to keep up the act. He didn’t really feel that way. It was just pretend.

“Aren’t you sweet?” You said with a tight lipped smile. “I might just fall in love with you for real.”

“I’d simply hate for that to happen.” Tom muttered and pressed a kiss to your shoulder. For the act, you told yourself, just an act.

“Me too.” You quipped, and quickly looked away.

“Did your mom mean what she said?” Tom asked suddenly. “About you sleeping with my t shirt?”

“I don’t even know what she was talking about.” You fake laughed and shrugged.

You knew exactly what she was talking about. A week earlier, she found you lying awake around three in the morning with tears in your eyes. You’d just gotten off the phone with Tom the night he left for shooting reshoots for Chaos Walking in Georgia. Knowing he’d be gone longer than usual, he gave his favorite black T shirt to wear when you missed him. Unbeknownst to him, that was all the time. You slipped the shirt over your pillowcase just as he rang your phone. You laid your phone on the pillow next to your head with a sigh as Toms voice filled your ears as his scent filled your nose. If you shut your eyes, it felt like you were lying on Toms chest, just like he was there. Your mom had found you in the position long after the call ended, and in the spur of the moment, you told her a little too much.

“Oh, okay.” Tom nodded his head, slight disappointment in his voice. “It just reminded me of all the times I’ve stolen one of your shirts before leaving for shooting.”

“Why do you do that?” You asked, turning in his arms to face you.

“The same reason you do. Or don’t do, apparently.” He said, slight disdain present.

“Because you miss me?” You asked. Tom looked frustrated and looked down at your lips.

“Because I love you.” He blurted.

“Pretend though, right?” You asked.

“Wrong.” Tom shook his head before crashing his lips to yours. You kissed him back for everything you were worth. Your fingers found their way to his hair, like they’d always meant to be there. He lifted you off your feet with arms secure around your waist. It was the fairytale you’d been waiting for since that first day of school when you told your mom you’d met your future husband. You only broke apart when a knock at the door came.

“Five minutes until you’re on.” Someone begin the door yelled.

“Thank you, five.” Tom called, his loving eyes never leaving yours. “I should’ve kissed you that day in the rain.” He whispered.

“That’s in the past. Let’s focus on our future. And my future is you.” You smiled at Tom and pecked his lips once again.

“You ready?” He asked.

“I am. I’m just glad we don’t have to lie anymore.” You said as you made your way to the main stage.

“Oh, Y/n.” Tom sighed dreamily as he brushed hair out of your face. “I was never lying.”

You took your seats in the couches next to Ellen after the crowd died down.

“So, how did you guys get together?” Ellen sat back in her chair and folded her hands.

“Well”, Tom looked at you and smiled as he linked his hands with yours, “it’s a bit of a funny story.”

Tag List 🏷

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#tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fluff #spiderman x reader #spiderman x y/n #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #spider man: homecoming #iron man

3K notes · View notes

i-write-and-therefore-i-am · 5 years

Text

One Monstrous Miracle (Part Two)

Ugh! It’s been 3 whole months since I updated this story! This one is a bit long, so maybe it will make up for that? Anywho, in addition to this being a bit of a doozy, it’s kind of a filler chapter, which I hate to do but there ya go. I’m feeling a bit wonky about this part, but make sure to let me know how you feel about it. I hope you enjoy! (P.S.--Let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list!)

Previous--Next--First

Pairing: Aziraphale/Human!Reader

Warnings: I don’t see any here!

Word Count: 2076 (!!For WhY?? Why can’t I write this much for my courses??)

It had been a few months since that first meeting, and it had become second nature for you to stop by his bookshop on the way home from work. You were grateful that Aziraphale didn’t actually want to part with any of his precious volumes, or else your poor bank account would definitely suffer. Because the shop was essentially the best sort of library you could imagine, it was incredibly easy to find a book to read. And because Aziraphale was the nicest man you had ever met, he was more than happy to let you find a comfy old chair to park yourself in whilst you read said book. This was how most of your days went recently, and it was, in fact, how this particular day had begun.

The door clicked shut behind you with the pleasant sound of bells that you had grown so fond of. You were in a good mood—you’d gotten a major promotion at work, which meant that although you’d have to work a few more hours, you’d be doing things that you enjoyed and getting paid more for them. Aziraphale had, for some reason unbeknownst to you, planned to cook dinner for the both of you today. You’d objected, not wanting him to go through all of the trouble of having to close his shop early to get dinner ready by the time you got out of work, but he’d persisted.

“It’s a special occasion, Y/N!”

“What is?”

“Being alive, of course!”

You’d known that there was something more, but you ignored it in favor of relishing in the cozy affection that washed over you at how adorable this man could be. He could find wonder in the most trivial thing, which never failed to put a smile on your face. Even recalling moments like that, as you were doing now, could lift your spirits.

You wandered around the shop, browsing the shelves for any new additions. Aziraphale’s shop had quickly become your safe haven—a place that you could go and just relax with a good book and not have to worry about anything else. Soon, you had come to associate that feeling with the man himself. You hadn’t felt this way about anyone in a very long time, and it was refreshing, in an odd way, to feel like a teenager again. This was something new and unexpected, and perhaps it was just what you needed. Your inner monologue was cut off by Aziraphale calling your name from across the room.

“Y/N! You’re here! Just in time, everything is ready.” You turn and smile at him but frowned when you caught sight of the old grandfather clock standing by the sales counter.

“Already? I only got here a few minutes ago,”

“Oh, I wanted it to be ready for when you got here, so I started early—”

“But I got here almost an hour before I normally do! How are you finished already?” A flash of something unidentifiable crossed over his face, but it was quickly replaced with a charming smile.

“I must’ve forgotten to set the clock upstairs and started earlier than I had thought. A happy accident, no?” Again, the doubts in your mind vanished, and you found yourself grinning back at him. Ever the gentleman, he gestured for you to walk up the stairs in front of him. The smells coming from the second floor had drifted down slowly and were weaving themselves around you, making your mouth water in anticipation. When you got to the top of the staircase, Aziraphale darted around you to open the door to his flat.

Despite all the time that you had spent in his building over the past couple of months, you had never ventured up here. You doubted that you would even notice if you had—the flat had the same eccentric-yet-cozy feel to it that the bookshop did, except in the place of books there were hundreds of different knick-knacks. Some looked rather new, and others looked as though they had jumped straight out of a history book.

“This is where I live. Pardon the mess, I haven’t been able to find a good system of storing yet.” He started fiddling with a set of Russian dolls that were sitting on a side table but gave up as quickly as he started and turned back to you. You realized that he was waiting for you to say something.

“I love it. It’s…homey.” You smiled genuinely at him. In some ways, it felt more like home to you than anywhere else, but that was a revelation for another day. After a few seconds of slightly awkward standing, your stomach chose that exact moment to growl. Loudly.

“Where are my manners? You must be starving! Here, let’s get some food in you, alright?” He led you to his dining room, where you were immediately greeted with the most delicious-looking meal of your life.

“You made all of this for me?” You asked incredulously, not believing your eyes. The table in the center of the room was positively groaning under the weight of all the food Aziraphale had cooked. Somehow, every single one of your favorites had made it onto tonight’s menu, making your heart grow warm with the knowledge that Aziraphale listened to and remembered the things you told him. You looked up at his expectant face, feeling silly for getting so emotional over dinner.

“It’s wonderful, Aziraphale. Thank you.”

“Of course, my dear. Anything for you.” He moved to pull out the chair closest to you, indicating that you should sit down. “Shall we?”

Dinner was divine. The food you ate on that day was the best food you had ever, or would ever, eat, period. You insisted that Aziraphale was secretly a world-famous chef, an idea that he quickly shot down— “How on Earth could I be a world-famous chef in secret? Wouldn’t everyone know? It wouldn’t be much of a secret, Y/N.”—but you weren’t too sure. You ate more than your fill, but when Aziraphale suggested that the two of you end the night with a cup of cocoa by the fireplace, you couldn’t refuse.

And so, you found yourself sitting on Aziraphale’s worn tartan sofa, sipping the rich chocolate and staring into the flames. Aziraphale sat beside you, his cup resting nicely on his knee. Together you sat in comfortable silence for quite a while, giving you time to reminisce over the evening and, more importantly, your thoughts about the man who had orchestrated the whole thing.

You knew that you had developed a sort of crush on him, and it had become increasingly apparent in recent weeks. Your heart would pound harder the closer you got to his shop, and the second he would look up from his work and focus his attention on you, you could feel your cheeks start to burn. It was highly unlikely that he hadn’t noticed anything different about the way you acted around him, but you knew he was too kind to say something about it. The trouble was that the friendship you had built with him, the easy companionship that you found in each other, was too precious for you to risk losing it by telling him what you truly felt. What if he didn’t feel the same way? What if he only wanted you to be his friend, nothing more? Oh God, what if he was gay? You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, but quickly looked away. Your anxiety was spiking, and you had to do something about it before—

“AZIRAPHALE!!” Both of you jumped, but thankfully most of your cocoa was gone so none of it spilled. Aziraphale was not so lucky, and he cursed as he looked down at his chocolate-covered lap.

“Damn!” You looked around for something to wipe it off with, but you couldn’t find anything. When you refocused on him, your brain short-circuited for a second. Aziraphale’s pants were now completely dry, with no chocolate on them whatsoever. He seemed to have gotten some on his hand though, because he had part of his pointer finger in his mouth, trying to suck the pain away. Loud footsteps were coming from the stairway outside the door of the flat, and you stared at each other in confusion.

The door was kicked off its hinges in the singular most dramatic entrance you could imagine. The strange man at the door seemed to be other worldly, like his very presence upended the balance of the Universe. Space rippled around him, giving one the impression that he was swaying back and forth, almost snakelike. He had the air of someone who was much much older than they appeared, which clashed atrociously with his spiked, modern haircut and his skintight jeans. It hurt your eyes just to look at him, but, like a car wreck on the M-25, you couldn’t look away. Somehow, even though he was wearing glasses the color of a black hole, you could tell that he was ignoring you entirely. You watched as he made his way to stand angrily in front of your friend. Aziraphale opened his mouth, but he was cut off.

“I’ve been calling you for day, you useless blob! I thought something had happened to you, Aziraphale! In case you’ve forgotten, we are in this together. If we fuck up, it will be the actual end of the world. I—who the Heaven is this?” The man turned to peer at you through his sunglasses, frowning as if you were a spot on the sofa, and not a living, breathing person sitting there instead. Suddenly he turned back to Aziraphale, so you could no longer see his face, but his body language changed drastically—he looked dangerous, like an animal ready to pounce. When he spoke his voice was mocking, dripping with derision.

“Really? You mean to tell me that this pathetic waste of space is what has you tied up? Didn’t you learn anything from the last time you tried it on with a mortal? I knew you were dense, Angel, but not stupid—” Aziraphale was up before your brain could process that he had moved at all. He was now standing toe-to-toe with the stranger, which would have looked unimpressive if Aziraphale had not been so obviously full of rage that it practically radiated off of him. The taller man looked down his nose at Aziraphale but said nothing.

“Don’t you ever speak about her in that filthy way again.” Where the tall man’s voice had been unsettling, Aziraphale’s was downright terrifying. You had never heard him sound so threatening, and you’d seen someone try to buy his first edition of Gutenburg’s Bible. It sent shivers down your spine, and your instincts kicked in. You rose from your seat, backing away from the escalating argument in front of you. The two men fought back and forth, and your heart sank further and further into the pit of your stomach. The night had started out so well, you had no idea when things had gone so wrong. You located your purse on the coffee table and picked it up, clutching it to your body.

“I’m going to leave now,” you tried, but to no avail. You cleared your throat, feeling like you were on the brink of tears. “I said, I’m going to leave now!”

That got their attention. Aziraphale’s eyes went wide when he saw you holding your purse, not to mention the way you seemed to be unconsciously cowering away from them. He reached out to you but you stepped back, shaking your head.

“Th-thanks for dinner. I have an early day tomorrow and I should really head home.” You turned to leave. Your hand was on the doorknob when you heard Aziraphale’s voice from behind you.

“Will I see you tomorrow, then?” Your shoulders tensed, and you had to bite your lip against the—completely ridiculous—tears that spring up at the careful hope you could hear. You took a deep breath, and without answering, opened the door and left the little shop.

From the street, you could hear a tremendous noise coming from the second story window, like something quite large and heavy being thrown against the ground. You shuddered because deep down, you didn’t know if the stranger had done it, or if Aziraphale, sweet, loving Aziraphale had. You walked faster.

Tag List:

@chelsdub, @a-hoe-for-vanya, @lordbeezyprinceofhell, @ohfortheloveofchuck

#aziraphale x reader #good omens #crowley #One Monstrous Miracle #Aziraphale #michael sheen #mine

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tremble-and-shake · 5 years

Text

Ficlet for “Church girl” anon

Like I said previously, this is just a short lead-up, nothing fancy. It’s NSFW but not really smut. That dear anon asked me enough times (and kindly) that eventually dialogue for this started to come together in my head and I found it really hot. Still, I acknowledge that this is super cheesy and unbelievable. Not knocking Christians or Catholics of anything (I grew up going under Catholic pretenses, but it just wasn’t for me and I got the fuck out). The storyline is just a classic, cliché turn on.

I’m calling it The Tempest of Lustful Shades after the vortex in the Second Circle of Hell in Dante’s Inferno. That’s where people go for lustful sins, and that’s where I feel like I’m going to end up writing this shit lmao Anyway, maybe some of you will be there with me for enjoying it. I hope so. Thanks @starchild0985 for taking a peek and offering feedback <333

The Tempest of Lustful Shades

You were finishing up your undergraduate degree in Art History at St. Mary’s in London. The uni had a partnership with Tate Modern, the art gallery collective that Jimmy had recently loaned tapestries to for their Edward Burne-Jones exhibition. And now, somehow, you were sitting in Jimmy’s parlor, sipping tea and chatting with him about your undergraduate thesis on the intersection between medievalism and Victorian ideals of womanhood in the Pre-Raphaelite movement.

“Above all else, Pre-Raphaelitism espoused naturalism, even when this risked showing ugliness. But that’s the true irony of it, isn’t it?” You nodded along, beaming at his words. “Look at what beauty they were able to create by embracing the fidelity of human appearance.”

It wasn’t too often you came across men who could carry on such a cerebral conversation on this topic while maintaining this level of passion. It was even rarer to come across ones this attractive.

“Let me refill your tea, love,” he said, placing his own cup down and taking the ceramic handle of the teapot. Admiring the hand-painted Moroccan lattice, you wondered how lavish it must to have a home where everything within it, down to the teapot and silverware, was an authentic piece of history.

“So, what’s a young lady as brilliant, passionate, and beautiful as you are doing still single?”

Shifting your weight from one leg to the other, you stifled a timid laugh.

He sensed your uneasiness, offering a consolation in the soft lines that cradled his lips and eyes. “Too immersed in your studies at the moment, I presume.”

“That’s my priority, yes.” Engulfed in his warmth and this momentary comfort, you surprised yourself by opening to him. “But a lot of guys my age aren’t willing to, you know, wait for a Catholic girl. Not even the ones at uni.”

Something flashed quickly in his eyes like a response to some subconscious trigger, and you realized what you had implied.

“No. I didn’t mean, that’s not-” Your startled movements caused your tea to careen over the lip of the cup, sending you to your feet to escape the hot Darjeeling. “Ow, shit, that’s hot!”

He was on his feet beside you almost instantly, removing the cup and taking your hands inside his. “Are you alright?”

“I’m so sorry. Jimmy, I got tea on the throw.” You tried to pull away and daub the spill, but he wouldn’t let you.

“Darling, don’t worry, it’s quite alright. You’re not burned, are you? How embarrassing to serve guests tea that’s scalding.”

“No, no, I’m fine. It wasn’t that hot, it just startled me.”

“Let me get something to dry your blouse.”

You cursed yourself for being so foolish, but silenced the self-berating in time for him to reenter the room, dinner napkin in hand.

“Here we are.” He began to blot along the hem your blouse, pulling the fabric off your skin. “May I?” You nodded, but it wasn't until you felt his fingers graze against your stomach that you realized what he was asking: to reach under your blouse in order absorb the stain from both sides of the fabric.

“Jimmy, I don’t know why I said that. TMI, I’m sorry.” You're surprised by how soft his fingers feel against you. “But just so you know.. I’m- I’m not.”

“Not what, love?” He broke his focus from the stain. When his eyes found yours, he seemed to genuinely be unsure of what you were saying.

“A.. a virgin.” That look again: the calloused, wanton glazing of his eyes. But fleeting and nearly impossible to recall once it’s gone. “I mean, I’ve only done it once. It was stupid, he was stupid. But I've done my penance and have been forgiven.”

"Hmm, I think that should do it, yes?"

"W- well, yes," you proceeded shakily but found confidence through the verse. "As it says in the Bible, 'If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.'"

He took a step back and tugged down at the hem of your blouse. "I was talking about the Darjeeling, love. And you needn't offer an explanation, I'm not judging you in the least. Shall we go on?"

"I'm so embarrassed, I think maybe I better go. I talk too much when I'm nervous and I've already--"

"Don't be silly. My apologies if I've said or done anything to make you feel uncomfortable but it would be a shame for you to leave without seeing the artwork. Come," he motioned for you to follow him, his smile warm and inviting.

He lead you through the hall and into the study. You remained pace or two behind, trying to steady yourself in this whirlwind of lustful thoughts and conflicting emotions.

As you entered the room, you struggled to keep your focus on the awe-inspiring paintings. He saw this and his dark brows became unsettled.

"It's just that I haven't felt this way before. Not even that first time,” your restless fingers searched for composure at the hem of your blouse. “I’ve never wanted someone so badly.”

His chin lifted and his gaze sharpened; he was eyeing you up as if assessing the honesty of your statement. “I see,” he lowered his chin slightly. “You’re here for academic research. I hardly think it’s appropriate. Do you?”

“Well, I guess not,” your gaze falls downward, disappointed.

“And what about your vow of abstinence? How do these thoughts make you feel?”

“Shameful,” you reply delicately. “Dirty.”

He smirked “We haven’t even done anything dirty yet, love. Imagine how you’d feel afterward.” Closing the space between you, he went on. “But it is the forbidden fruit that tastes the sweetest.”

“Let me taste it,” your tone was meek, but your hands spoke more strongly as they traipsed below his belt.

“Do you know what you’re getting yourself into?” His fingers lifted your chin firmly, forcing you to surrender into his eyes. They were the seductive pinnacle on a face so seasoned and sophisticated.

“You may no longer be a virgin in the eyes of God, but as far as I’m concerned you might as well be. I'm going to have to go gently with you."

You swallowed sharply. Nervous, but overruled by the strong ache growing between your thighs. You'd never been so wet that your panties actually became damp like this.

"But I assure you that you're going to feel filthy all the same. Is that really what you want?" His fingertips skimmed your lips, finding a place to come to rest. "Show me.” He tugged gently at your lips and you knew what he wanted, so you welcomed them in and sucked gently.

“Good girl.” His smile brought a dramatic softness to his face. And yet somehow it still commanded a subservience you were eager to give. “You know you’re going to have to go to mass tomorrow to confess this dirty secret. Then you’ll pray on the rosary for hours before you find absolution.” You nodded and moaned for him, still caressing two of his long fingers with your tongue.

“I wonder, how many Our Fathers or Acts of Contrition will you have to say in reparation for sucking the cock of a man old enough to be your father, or grandfather even? Don’t answer with your mouth full, love. It’s poor manners.” He removed his fingers and gently pressed on your shoulders, encouraging you to your knees.

“I suppose you could just tell me next week when you come here again, no use in supposition. But I do know one thing: anytime you kneel again, you’ll be thinking of us. In the church pew, besides your bed for nightly prayers, wherever. And you’ll be wet when you do.”

#Jimmy page smut #Ficlet #Jimmy page fan fic #Led zeppelin fan fic #Silver fox Jimmy #Writing by tremble #Old man Jimmy #Jimmy page

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zankivich · 5 years

Text

Teacher’s Pet: A College AU Chapter 15

a/n: Hi friends! I’m back and officially done with finals so I think we’re about to finish this one out. I imagine next chapter will probs be the last one. this series has been so fucking dope for me to write so I hope you enjoy tbh. Please let me know if ya like!

*masterlist in bio*

*Shawn’s pov*

It was nearing finals when Andrew helped him post the video. They wanted him to do another cover to garner interest, and maybe boost his numbers, before going straight into the studio to record an album. Andrew said it could be any song he wanted, but that it should be somewhere substantial in the Billboard 100. He does a cover of Perfect by Ed Sheeran, and maybe it was a little strategic. Ed was an inspiration and he wanted that sort of sound in his music, and so he knew if he got people to see it and like it, that it would be an accurate representation of the kind of artist he wanted to be. Also, his girlfriend liked it and so when she sat in the corner of Andrew’s house where they recorded it, every single take she would clap and hollar for him like his own little number one fan. It helped that Perfect had been one of the biggest songs of the year as well.

He woke up the next day to his phone buzzing like crazy. Well actually, he woke up to his girlfriend ready to throttle him with a pillow if he didn’t, “turn that thing the fuck off”. It was Andrew. Something had gone oddly right. He’d managed to rack up four million views in twenty-four hours. People higher than Andrew were asking, who was this kid with the guitar. They wanted him recording something….Now.

“What are you doing right now?” Andrew asked.

He peered down at his feet, body bare except for his boxer briefs. His arms were crossed and he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror on the wall in their bedroom that just showed how fucking shocked he was by the information he was sharing with him.

“I…I’m in my bedroom. My girlfriend’s still asleep.” He whispered. “Andrew, what the fuck do I now?”

“You get dressed. You brush your teeth. You grab your guitar and you get your ass to LA. that vision you were telling me about? That album you wanted to make? Now’s your shot, kid.”

Andrew had the ability to get him to launch into action. It was what had garnered trust for them so quickly, was this weird connection between the two of them. If Andrew said he needed to get his ass to LA, he needed to get his ass to LA.

He jumped straight into the shower, tugging on clothes over still damp body parts, and trying to locate his lucky guitar pick while trying to pull a shoe on. He senses her wake up before she even makes any noise, and he finally remembers that he’s leaving her. He crawled back into bed just as she was rolling over, allowing the length of his body to cover hers entirely.

She yawned and stretched, her adorable fucking cheeks just out there for him to kiss and nuzzle.

“Good morning.” She giggled kissing at his throat. “Why do you have clothes on right now?”

“Baby, the Ed cover got four million views last night. Andrew got the green light to have me come in and start recording. He wants me to come to LA, right now.”

“Are you fucking me?!” She squealed throwing her arms around him. “I’m so proud of you, babes.”

She nearly tackled him to the bed, pressing kissing to his face and smiling at him that way that just made him feel like fucking good inside. She was radiant and beautiful and she made everything feel like it was at another level.

“I love you, so much.”

He wasn’t sure why he felt the need to say it in that moment. He was just so fucking happy and that happiness was directly correlated to her. It wasn’t just the views and the ability to create music anymore, it was that he had so much he was feeling nowadays, so much going on inside of him, and that had so much to do with her. When he kissed her and her outlandish curls tickled his face, he just wanted to burrow deeper into her and never leave. But, he also wanted the world to know that he was in love, that his partner was this amazing, incredible being that he wasn’t worthy of. Or maybe he was, like she always said he was, and even that within itself was fucking cool.

“I love you too. Go live your dream. I’ll be here when you get back.”

She traced his jaw with her fingertips and looked at him like he was more than just a man. He felt it deep in his bones and it only made it harder to leave her. But, there was something about the fact that he was going to make music that felt like he wasn’t leaving her. It was if she existed in the notes and the melodies, in the strum of his guitar. She had melded with the most beautiful part of his life and elevated music for him. She existed in his head and in his heart and therefore he knew that he’d be spending the day with her. And that made it slightly easier to leave. If only slightly.

***

He’s looking at a group of writers for the first time, and it’s kind of the most terrifying thing in the world. Andrew had introduced them all a couple of times, but this is completely different. This is them asking for a piece of him, to look into his head and creating something out of it. The only thing that makes it possible to do it is that Teddy’s there. She was a kick ass producer and she was one of his closest friends, so it clicked for them in a way he wasn’t sure he could’ve done otherwise.

“I wanna talk about...I wanna talk about what it felt like when I fell for her.” He mumbled.

In his book that he kept ideas and lyrics in there was this line that he had written down that he’d never gone back to.

Every time I see you baby I get lost

If I'm dreaming, baby, please don't wake me up

Teddy takes the lyric and plays with it and everyone else is just asking him questions. And it’s personal, but it’s necessary. He tries to remind himself that he essentially wants the whole world to know how he feels, and so four other people has to be a good enough start. And he also knows that talking about her calms him in a way he loves, makes it feel like she is with him even when she isn’t.

“So what was it man? When did you know?” Scott asked.

He shrugged. “I guess...I guess we were lying in bed together. We hadn’t even slept together yet. We got drunk and it rained and I ended up in her bed, and when I woke up she was there. She was lying on my chest, and I could see the pout in her mouth while she slept, and I just remember wanting to kiss her so badly. I remember being terrified that she wouldn’t let me stay. I don’t think I knew it yet, but like...I think I loved her even then.”

They all sit on the floor in this fancy ass studio and it sort of turns into a huge therapy session. He ends up telling all of them she’s his TA, and he definitely leaves Roger out of the story, but there’s something about the mystery of it all that’s got them. His guitar is in his hands and he has a chord that he likes, and Teddy throws in a chord that compliments that one. And Scott has a line about not being able to see anything wrong with what they are to each other. And they just sort of jam out piece by piece until suddenly there’s a verse done. And that feeling is so fucking magical that they start plucking out harmonies together. It’s a feeling he only gets when he’s creating, when it all fits together, and the pieces connect. When it works it’s the best fucking feeling in the world. And for that, for the moment in time, it works.

***

Y/n’s pov.

The first time he leaves to perform isn’t easy. Mostly because you couldn’t go with. With the cover exploding in the manner that it did, Shawn was all music all the time--more so even than usual. It was beautiful to watch because it’s when he was at his happiest, and when everything made the most sense for him. But, the world didn’t stop moving for him to live his dream, which meant you were left to pick up the pieces.

“I won’t go. I--I can ask Andrew to reschedule.”

You were meeting with the conduct board to hear their decision on the matter, and Andrew had scheduled him to go perform at some radio show in LA the same day. There was no doubt in your mind that he was going.

“No, you’re not. You won’t miss much anyway. Either I get fired, or I don’t. Not much we can do ya know?” You shrugged.

Shawn thought you were being too nonchalant about it, and he hated it because he knew deep down you were absolutely petrified. If you had to guess that was probably part of his motivation to stay. He groaned grumpily at you reaching to take your face in those catcher mitts he called hands.

“This is not a simple thing. Don’t act like it is, and don’t shut me out.” He mumbled.

You rolled your eyes at your fluffy over dramatic Canadian.

“I’m not shutting you out. I just am asking you not to sacrifice everything that’s going right for you, for me.”

“You’re important to me. You matter just as much as this.”

“I believe you. You don’t have to prove anything to me. So, fucking go, or I’m gonna be pissed at you.”

He took in the raised eyebrow and the crinkle in your forehead that said you were serious. There was no fighting you when you’d made up your mind. So, he kisses you silly instead. He rubs circles into the small of your back, and he touches your face and sucks your lip into his mouth. Sometimes he would hold your face in his palm and keep you at a distance reaching in to punish your mouth with his own, only to pull back when you were needy and desperate. It was hot and dominate especially in comparison with the absolute look of tenderness upon his face.

“I love you.” He sighed. “Will you keep me on speaker phone through the whole thing? I don’t go on until two.”

“I love you too. And yes I will, but only if you kiss me some more and stop fighting with me.”

He slid his arms around your waist and tugged you into his body.

“I’m not fighting with you you’re just fucking stubborn as all hell. Now come here.”

It takes you twenty minutes to let him leave.

When you were a little girl, your mom and dad had gotten in a huge fight. Screaming, crying, hitting, the whole nine yards. And after your father had stormed out, your mom had to go to work. So, you sat on her bed and watched as she dressed herself up to go to her desk job. She had smoothed at her own hair and wiped her own tears away, and she stood tall and brave and made sure as such before she walked out into the world. And even then you knew that that’s what strength looked like. And you liked to think that that’s what you did that day. You slid on this sort of chic suit that was black with white accents, and you swiped your hair all the way back in a ponytail that rested against the base of your skull. And you prepared yourself to walk into that room with your fucking head held high because there were no other options. Maybe the slight silver lining was that your dad had been a piece of shit, and you weren’t in a toxic relationship at all.

“Baby that looks really pretty.” Shawn whined through the phone.

You sent him a picture of your outfit and he’d immediately jumped on the phone with you as you walked towards the office of the Dean.

“Shut up.” You snorted, cheeks warming.

“Andrew, did you know that I’ve got the prettiest fucking girlfriend in the whole world?!”

You rolled your eyes laughing when you heard Andrew tell him to conserve his voice and stop being a dumbass. That was usually your job.

“Are you really gonna stay on speaker the whole time?” You asked as you made your way into the academic building.

It immediately quieted down on his end, and you could tell he was moving to a more private space.

“Of course I am, honey. I would never leave you to do this on your own. I’m so sorry I can’t be there in person.”

You took a deep breath. ��It’s okay. I want you to be there. I’m just...a little more nervous than I thought I was, I guess.”

“Yea? You want to spend some time breathing before you go in?”

You nodded softly completely forgetting that he couldn’t even fucking see you.

“Yes. Please.”

“Okay, just go to the bathroom, alright? I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

You found yourself in the middle of a bathroom stall working to match your breathing to the rate of your boyfriend’s. It was much easier said than done unfortunately. It was much harder to not think about worst case scenario, which was you getting kicked out of school. Shawn could be there for you, he could do everything right in the world, but it wasn’t gonna change their opinion on the matter. And you hated that lack of control.

“Did you take your purse with you, sweetheart?” He asked when you’d done all the breathing in the world and it hadn’t really helped at all.

“Yea.”

“I put something in the pocket where you keep your wallet. Could you grab that for me?”

You moved the phone between your ear and shoulder to free up your hands. Things tended to get lost in your purse so it took a lot of shuffling and a lot of looking around before your fingers touched silver. It was the necklace his grandmother had given him. You never once ever saw him without it, not even at the beach. And yet here it was with you and not with him, and that kind of blew your mind.

“Shawn,” You gasped eyes still on the necklace. “This is your grandmother’s necklace.”

He chuckled softly. “I know it is. I wanted you to have it for today.”

“But--But I’ve never seen you perform without it. You’re never without it.”

“I know but I thought it might be more important for you to have it right now. If I fuck up this performance, i’ll be okay. I just want you to be happy and to get to do what you love too, baby.”

A sniffle beaks through and you wish he was there just so you could slap him. The one day in the history of ever you put mascara on and your dumb boyfriend had to go and make you cry. Ugh.

“Sweetheart are you--are you crying?” He whispered.

“No!” You mumbled through a shaking lip and actual tears. “This is stupid. You’re stupid.”

You could practically hear him smiling on the other end.

“I love you, so much, beautiful.” He murmured. “You know that right?”

You reached desperately for toilet paper to stop your incessant tears.

“Yea.” You whined.

“Good. So, just put that necklace on and you’ll know that I’m there with you even when I can’t be physically. Especially when I can’t be physically.”

You slid the necklace on with shaky fingers, knowing that you would’ve preferred him to be the one putting it on you. But this would do. The sentiment, the meaning behind him leaving it with you. That was more than enough.

“I love you.” You mumbled when your eyes were less red and you felt comfortable enough to leave the bathroom. “Much more than I could ever explain.”

“I know. That’s the good part, is that I know exactly what you mean, because I feel the same.”

In the room, Dr. Edwards sits beside you. The room is brown all over; hardwood desks and walls, and table tops that somehow lack any semblance of warmth. It’s sterile and quiet reminding you of your gynecologist’s office but just with more men. The dean is there, and so are other people from student affairs and the conduct board. Shawn is on the phone sitting on the table in front of you and you keep your fingers on the necklace around your throat to offer any sort of guidance in the world. It is terrifying and horrible and Roger isn’t even there, which just makes you wonder if he’d ever have to experience the hell you’ve been through. Shawn is on speaker so he can’t talk to you and you alone, so it’s really time for you to just sit there and take it all head on. Whatever it may be.

“Miss y/l/n, thank you for joining us today. And you Mr. Mendes for calling in. This has been a...rather difficult thing for us as a board to work through. Mostly because we’ve never had this come up as a problem before, hence the lack of policy written about it.” The dean began.

You bit your lip at that feeling even more embarrassed for breaking a rule they’d never even thought to formally write down.

“Now while I understand you two may be in love and have a genuine relationship, it is very important that you both understand the irrelevance of that to this investigation. We are not here to determine whether or not you are in love, we are here to determine whether or not you have broken university policy. Do you understand?”

Your fingers tightened around the necklace dangling from your throat. Holy shit this was terrifying.

“Yes, sir, we understand. Right y/n?” Shawn spoke up prompting you to answer.

“Y--Yes. I understand.”

“Good. With that being said...The board has closely examined the policy, which states the prohibition of any sexual relationship between a faculty member or staff member with a student. A staff member is defined as someone who works no less than thirty hours a week and is actively insured under the university health insurance.”

Your heartbeat picked up and you felt like you could choke on your tongue at any moment. You wanted to call out to Shawn but you couldn’t, you had to be quiet and wait it all out.

“Now, Ms. y/l/n while you are actively an TA, it does fulfill a credit hour that you are taking as a part of the requirements for your graduate program. And despite some of our better judgement, the policy does not currently define that position as a staff member. You are technically completely under the umbrella of being a student.”

“Holy shit, babe!” Shawn crackled over the line.

Bless his fucking heart.

“Mr. Mendes, please.” The dean hissed stunning your boyfriend into silence.

You tried to smile apologetically, but you got the feeling you were not well liked in that room at all.

“As it appears you may have guessed,” He sighed turning his attention back to you. “We have been unable to locate any violation of the policy as it currently stands. Your relationship, though unethical, does not violate university law.”

You nodded hands literally shaking around the necklace you were wearing just waiting for the floor to fall out from underneath you. It felt like it was too good to be true.

“Now, this doesn’t mean that what you’ve done is okay. We are extremely disappointed in you Miss y/l/, and will be placing you on academic probation for the duration of next semester. Despite your ability to return to class, you will be under watchful eye of this university.”

“Of course. Absolutely, I agree.” You murmured.

“As for you Mr. Mendes, it was a little more difficult to find a punishment as you also did not technically break the policy. We left it up to Dr. Edwards and she has decided that the missed classes in wake of your final paper has been punishment enough. You are free to return to class on Monday.”

“T--Thank you, sir.” Shawn spoke over the phone. “But, what about Roger?”

You let your head dip lower, a part of you glad that he brought it up so that you didn’t have to. His name still made you feel sick to your stomach, and somehow you knew that it wasn’t gonna pan out the way that either of you wanted.

“We are not able to discuss the more personal details of Roger’s case. The only thing you need to know y/n is that we do have policy centered around harassment and utilizing technology to provoke students. The board has made the decision that he will not receive credit for the class, and will not sit in on the remaining class periods. “

You couldn’t help but look over at Kate, and even she could only stare at you with remorse. Everyone in that room knew that the punishment didn’t fit the crime. But, his father was on the board of trustees, and that meant power that none of you had.

Shawn snorted rudley. “With all due respect sir, that’s bullshit. Since when did sexual harassment of your students not matter to you all?”

“Shawn. Shawn, it’s fine. Okay?” You assured him. “This is the best we’re gonna get.”

The Dean for the first time seemed to look at you with an ounce of pity in his eyes, something that told you he at least understood what had been done, but knew that he wasn’t at liberty to do anything about it.

“The most I can offer you is a no contact order.”

In the end it really doesn’t feel like much. You get to keep your job, but also under the guise that men and money and patriarchy continued to dominate higher education just as they did the rest of the world. You leave knowing that there’s a lot more work to do, but also so extremely validated in the importance of it. No it’s not the kind of win you wanted, but it is a win nonetheless. Shawn gets to go back to class. You keep your job. The world keeps spinning and you keep fighting for the right for people who don’t look like Roger to exist. A part of you always knew that’s how it might turn out.

You get the no contact order to give you, and Shawn, some piece of mind, before running to get to your boyfriend. LA traffic was a bitch, and you knew you’d probably just arrive in time for him to finish but it would be worth it. Shawn had supported you in a way that you never could have even thought to ask for, and you wanted to give that back to him too. You wanted to give him everything too.

When you get there you have to text him because your boyfriend was important now and went to places where you had to be on a list to get in. He ran out to you immediately grabbing you up in his arms and it was the most incredible feeling after what felt like the longest day of your life.

“What are you doing here?” He mumbled squeezing you tightly.

You hummed. “I just wanted to support you...and I wanted to give you this.”

You pulled back from him to slide his grandmother’s necklace back off of your neck.

He scrunched his face up and grabbed your hands in his stopping you from moving closer

“No. I didn’t want it back, babe. I wanted you to wear it.”

“But Shawn, you always wear it. I don’t wanna mess you up.” You whined.

He simply grinned at you and pressed kisses to your face until you were the giggling mess that only he could turn you into. Ugh men.

“I can’t think of anymore good luck in this world, then to look over and see it on your neck. I’ll be fine. You’re here with me, how could I mess up?”

“I don’t know. That’s a lot of pressure.”

“Nah. you’re just kind of perfect for me.” He assured you.

Inside the radio studio you watch the way that Shawn composes himself. He shook hands and introduced himself to every person he came in contact with. When they asked him to do an interview for the youtube channel he immediately said yes, and was so nice to the person micing him up that he nearly missed his cue. It was exactly the man you knew and the man that you loved. Shawn was the guy who could walk into a room and immediately be your best friend just from twenty seconds of conversation. He was kind and gentle and smart and talented as all hell.

While they were interviewing him, Andrew came to sit next to you. You and Andrew didn’t really have the best relationship, or a relationship at all for that matter. All you knew was that he meant a lot of Shawn and Shawn felt that he was leading him in the right direction, so you trusted that judgement before all else. But best friends, you were not.

“How did it go today?” He asked pulling your attention from how cute Shawn looked in his shirt.

Your eyes widened slightly. “I uh--I get to stay in my department. They put me on probation technically, but it looks like they’re trying to make sure I don’t cause havoc and bring attention to the fact that Roger basically stalked and harassed me. Wouldn’t be a great look for the university.”

“That’s good.”

“Yea. Shawn’s not in trouble either if that’s what you were curious about. We didn’t break any university policy.”

Andrew smirked at that. “Why do you think that I’d only want to know if Shawn was affected?”

“Just seems like your priority is all. It’s kind of your job isn’t it?”

He nodded softly peering over at where you were watching Shawn do his thing. Eventually Andrew’s gaze turned to you and you could feel him looking at you in a way that made you nervous. Andrew usually ignored you and you’d been okay with that.

“His entire life is about to change.” He murmured softly.

You turned to look at him and his face was unreadable.

“What do you mean?”

“All eyes are starting to turn to him. I’ve got people in high places who are financially investing themselves in him doing well. The second his semester ends he’s going to have to work harder than he ever has in his life. And that’s going to take all of his time.”

You clenched at the necklace around your throat thinking that maybe it was choking you but in reality you noticed it was just you, just your heart starting to clench in your chest. Maybe it was Andrew instead.

“W--Why are you telling me this?”

“It’s not because I want to hurt you, y/n.” He attempted to reassure you. “I’m telling you because I want you both to prepare yourselves. He’s about to enter the craziest time of his life. It’s not gonna be college staying up until three a.m together to write papers. It’s gonna be him in a different city every day of the week. It’s gonna be weeks of not seeing each other in person. And I know that you’re in a master’s program, and you got your own shit going on. You shouldn’t have to throw it all away.”

You could feel your body getting hot. It was telltale sign that you weren’t gonna be able to hold your tongue. Usually Shawn would be there to pull you back, but he was nowhere to be found and that was bad for Andrew.

“Who the hell said I would throw it away? What would make you think that I’m not capable of being in a relationship and doing my fucking job at the same time?”

“That’s not how I meant it.”

“So how did you mean it? It sounds like you’re trying to convince me break to up with him for your sake, so he can work freely in the industry.”

“No I’m just trying to get you to think a little bit about the life you’re about to sign up for.”

You snorted. “Fuck off with your false genuine bullshit. You’re not advocating for me and you’re not advocating for Shawn, you’re advocating for your investment. I’m not under contract with you and I don’t owe you anything.”

You noticed that he reached for your arm to try to get you to be quiet. Suddenly people were staring and that only made you angrier because you didn’t want to feel like you were crazy. You didn’t have the capacity to not be angry, and you knew in your heart that you deserved to be angry. You could feel tears building up behind your eyes. The sort of embarrassing, child like tantrum tears that showed up when you just felt defeated, like no one was listening to you.

It isn’t until his arms wrap around you from behind that you feel like you can breathe again. And you know that it’s him the way that your body knows to release the minute he’s touching you. Because it’s him and you automatically feel better when you’re together.

“Hey, hey, hey what’s going on?” He hushed softly in your ear.

You were still staring at Andrew with all of the rage he’d created inside of you clear in your eyes. But, with Shawn’s arms wrapped around you it no longer felt like a battle worth fighting. It would only make things harder, would probably only prove whatever idiotic statement he’d been trying to make. And you didn’t want it to be about that, not on this day that meant so much to him.

So, you smiled softly and turned in his arms to press a kiss to his jaw.

“Nothing’s going on. It’s fine.”

He frowned at you and immediately ran his thumb along your cheekbone, something that you often found incredibly soothing and right now was no different.

“No it’s not. What’s going on? Andrew?”

Andrew shrugged. “We were just chatting.”

Shawn took one look at you, could see the tears that you were just barely holding back with every fiber of your being and decided whatever answer he’d been given was not enough. He took you by the hand and led you away from the lights, the crew, and Andrew. There was a room in the back of the studio that looked like a general purpose room for the talent to wait between interviews. When the door was closed, he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and squeezed you warmly against his chest. With your face tucked into his shirt which smelled of cologne and the soap he used at home it was difficult not to find comfort, and with comfort it was difficult not to let the tears out that you’d been holding back.

“Sweetheart, what’s going on? Why were you fighting with Andrew?”

You sniffled. “I don’t wanna get you in trouble.”

“What do you mean get me in trouble? What happened? You can tell me.”

“I’m not good enough for you.”

And with that you fell apart in true dramatic fashion. Honestly, it probably had more to do with the stress of the entire day then the actual argument with Andrew. It just felt like every step of the way you had to fight to validate your relationship. And the first sign that you might not have to fight anymore, a new enemy just approached you from a different angle. You were tired of fighting to feel like you deserved to be with Shawn. It was kind of exhausting.

“That’s absolute nonsense. Of course you’re good enough for me.” He muttered.

He pulled you to the couch tucking you into his lap against the arm of the couch so that you felt as comforted as possible. His hands came up to grasp firmly at your cheeks, wiping away the tears that had only continued to drop as you huffed out exaggerated breaths.

“Who told you you’re not good enough for me? Andrew?”

You shook your head softly. “He didn’t say it out right but… he kept talking about your career and how all of these things are gonna change for you, and that I probably won’t be able to deal with in like I think I can. He just...He made it sound like I might be a burden on your happiness. Like I might not be able to give you what you need because, what you need isn’t me.”

“That is...That could not be further from the truth y/n.” He sighed moving your hair out of the way to see your eyes. “I need you so badly right now I can hardly breathe. When you showed up this afternoon? I couldn’t even contain myself. You don’t understand how fast I ran to get to you. I’m . . . baby I’m so fucking nervous. I’m terrified and I, I need you to get through this. I don’t care what anyone else says. I need you, okay? Please, tell me that you know that.

You hadn’t. Shawn had been so focused on supporting you and then supporting himself that you hadn’t quite noticed that the scales had tipped unevenly. You wanted him to always lean on you when he needed it, because you knew in your heart that he’d allow you to do the same. And it felt good to be needed. But it also hurt to know how badly he’d been struggling.

You pressed your forehead softly against his, smiling when his fingers traced your jaw.

“I know. I know; I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “Don’t be sorry. Just know that your support means everything to me alright?”

“Okay.”

“And I’ll talk to Andrew. He’s not gonna bother you anymore.”

You winced. “No, Shawn. You don’t have to--”

“I’m talking to Andrew. You’re the most important thing. And he has to get on board with that. It isn’t an option.”

Well that was just….hot as all hell.

“Okay.” You mumbled failing to contain the smile of a woman with a man who would happily give her the world.

The rest of the afternoon is spent watching Shawn do interviews. He goes and plays for another radio show and he talks to people and he blows every conversation out of the water. Andrew has a look on his face that tells you things are going well. And they have Shawn play the cover at every radio station they attend. You record about a dozen videos of him throughout the day only to spend forever deciding which one is good enough to post.

When it’s all set and done you figured he’d want to go home. It had been exhausting just watching him go, go, go all day long. But instead he asked you to come to the studio with him. There was something that he wanted you to hear, and it had to be heard through the studio speakers or it wouldn’t be good enough.

You let him tag you along, loving the excited look on his face at the very thought of doing what he loved. You adore that about him, how passionate he was always. You loved even more when that passion was directed towards you, because duh.

“Okay. You ready?” He asked turning a nervous smile in your direction.

You nodded. “Lay it on me, babes.”

“Okay. It’s not perfect yet. Teddy is still gonna do some more production on it, but she had finals to work on. And there’s still this thing about the chorus that I can’t put my finger on.”

You rolled your eyes playfully at him.

“Shawn, play it.”

“Okay, okay.”

He pressed whatever magical button in the sea of magical buttons was the playback before sitting beside you in the big comfy chairs. When his voice comes out the speakers you almost squeal a little bit, because that’s your baby and he’s singing and he’s perfect, but then you hear the words and something different entirely happens inside of you.

Sunrise with you on my chest

No blinds in the place where I live

Daybreak open your eyes

'Cause this was only ever meant to be for one night

Still, we're changing our minds here

You peer over at him and he’s watching you so closely that it makes your heart stutter. Of course it was for you, but who could have ever expected it to be that beautiful.

You are bringing out a different kind of me

There's no safety net that's underneath, I'm free

Falling all in

You fell for men who weren't how they appeared, yeah

Trapped up on a tightrope now we're here, we're free

Falling all in you

You cover your mouth with your hands despite the fact that there’s no sound coming out of you once so ever. He’s still staring at you and you know that you’re gonna cry, but you’re just trying to hold on with everything that you have and it isn’t fucking working.

Every time I see you baby I get lost

If I'm dreaming, baby, please don't wake me up

Every night I'm with you I fall more in love

Now I'm laying by your side

By the time the song ends there’s not a chance in hell. Tears are streaming down your cheeks and Shawn has to find you a tissue because snot is an issue, and you don’t want this beautiful moment to be remember as the moment you had snot running down your nose. He goes to say something but you put your hand on top of his to lull him into silence.

“C--Can you play it again?”

He smiled softly. “‘Course I can.”

The second time isn’t any better, because now your body knows what to expect. It’s like you’re feeling all of it even more than you did the first time. He reaches your hand and tugs you gently into his lap as the song is slowly coming to a close. You wipe away another tear and he tucks your head under his chin with his arms wrapped around you. It’s the warmest you’ve ever felt in your life you think.

“I wanted to talk about what it felt like to fall in love with you.” He murmured. “I wanted to talk about how it feels to be loved by you, because it’s the greatest feeling I’ve ever felt in my life. Did I...did I do good?”

You reach for his face to hide the fact that your fingers had been trembling. You rubbed softly at his chin and jaw and cheeks, wondering if he knew how beautiful he was to you. It was the first time you’d ever been jealous of Shawn, because he could formulate his love with ease, but yours was simply trapped within you.

“You did so good, baby. No one has ever loved me like you have. I’ve never felt so full.” You whispered.

He squeezed gently at your thigh. “You deserve it. You deserve every bit of it. I wanna love you like that always.”

You kiss him because it's’ the only tangible thing your body has to even try to show him what he means to you. You scratch at his scalp and you tug lovingly at his curls. You map out the shape of his lips with your tongue and you try to convey it all through touch. You think maybe that he gets it if the way that he holds you in silence for twenty minutes straight is any indication. When you go home that night it’s with the understanding that no one is really capable of hurting what you have. Your love is this thing that has you bound to one another, and no matter how hard it was gonna be you’d see it through without fail. Because...love.

#Shawn mendes #Shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fan fiction #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes fan fic #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes au #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes one shot #Shawn mendes x reader #Shawn mendes x you #Shawn mendes x y/n #Shawn mendes x female reader #Shawn mendes college au

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dietaku · 5 years

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The Legend of Aphrodite Ourania

Just a quickie I thought I’d share. While working on Photon Breaker Zechs, I mused that Aphrodite has vast and rather nebulous powers, and her origin being as bizarre as it is is all prime fodder for a goofy story. This may become a series; I had a lot of fun writing it, and we may see more if people take a shine to it as well. In any case, thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy!

Love. Love is the essence of everything. I was once told by a beetle “All you need is love.” This couldn't be further from the truth. To say so implies that this was even a question in the first place. Love is the power that propels everything forward. The planets and stars move about the cosmos because the love they share. Gravity and electricity work because of the love inherent between objects, and the energy of the Universe. Such is the way of things.

“Preposterous!” I hear you say,” That's an anthropomorphism of the most egregious manner!”

True, but I ought to know, for I am Aphrodite Ourania,and I am Love itself. All things I love, and everything loves me. And I most especially love my father.

The sky twinkled overhead as I stepped into the lapis palace of my father. Striding across the long corridors as the air nymphs and sky sprites flit about, cleaning and gossiping with one another. I passed the long mirrors lining the halls, ignoring them. I didn't need to study myself, as I didn't need to blind myself with my own loveliness. I was the epitome of feminine beauty, perfectly proportioned; slim yet feminine, round face framed by my wild mane of bronze hair. The sprites stare at me with fear and jealousy as I wave at them, readjusting my purple toga as I hurl the doors open, finding my father in his usual spot. Sitting in a lonely room decorated with visions of the heavens about him, he sat on a lonely throne. He sat as a pillar of masculinity, chiseled with muscle, and in spite of his age, he still rippled with power and strength, with even his freshly trimmed beard serving to add to his gravitas. This was Ouranus, my father.

“Hallo, Father!” I called, waving with a grin.

He narrowed his eyes as his shifted in his seat,” Hello, Aphrodite. To what do I owe this misfortune?”

“Father! That's so rude! I came because I love you, and wanted to see how you are doing,” I protested, as he groaned.

“Yes, I know. Every day you come and see me, and every day, I am reminded of my defeat and maiming,” he spat,” My loins throb every time I see you.”

“Father! That's not something a father ought to say to their daughter! Not even one such as I,” I barked, as he grunted his disapproval.

“You foolish little girl! Need I remind you how you came to be? You pain me with your very presence!” he growled, as I blushed.

“Oh. Oh! Ooooooooooh,”I muttered, as I digested his outburst,” Wait. WAIT! You don't like my visits!”

“Yes. Your very presence is abhorrent to me,” he replied coolly, as I froze on the spot, reeling with such emotional force my very arms collapsed to the ground. Not that I cared. What did it matter? My father balked at my kindness. What did I care if I collapsed as a pile of body parts to the floor?

“Come now, you silly little girl. You're falling to pieces,” he sighed, standing up, and gathering my divorced limbs as he popped them back into place,” You're a person, not some bizarre art exhibit. And look at this,” he snorted, “You're not even taking care of yourself. This mat of fur isn't becoming of my flesh and blood.”

Conjuring a comb from the aether, he gently pushed me to sit as he combed my hair,”You ought to take pride in your appearance and not rely on your animal charisma for everything. I know you are a carefree woman, but take some pride in yourself! If not for yourself, then for mine,” he muttered, as I nodded. When satisfied with his work, he nodded, patting me on the shoulder.

“Very well! I'll prove that I am worthy of your attentions, then,” I boasted, puffing my chest out as he sighed.

“No, that's not what I meant,” he kneaded his brow.

“I'll prove to you I am worthy of your attentions,” I repeated, waving as I rushed off, outside. Whistling to the wind, my seashell; the only accouterments given to me by my birthright, I flew across the world, seeking out my target; my archrival, another goddess of love and power, my old acquaintance, Ishtar, the Star of Venus. As I looked far and wide, until I found her sauntering thorough the scene of an utter massacre. Picking through the mess was Ishtar, with her attendant and lover, Dumuzid hefting the corpses for her to pick out the choice pieces she desired.

“Disappointing, so disappointing! None of these men are worth my time or attention! Dumuzid! Take a note! Remind me to start another war against the Hittites and Canaanites. I need more to consider,” Ishtar cried angrily, as Dumuzid nodded, dropping his corpse to pull out a piece of vellum and a stylus as he hastily scribbled down her note. I leaped to the ground as I flourished at the pair.

“Ishtar! I'm here to defeat you!” I cried, as Ishtar blinked. She stood before me a beauty even I could appreciate; imperious, glamorous, with her dark hair cut bluntly in contrast to hr pale complexion. Adorned in a fine silk robe far too large for her, with her gems and Mes buoyed on her sizable bust. I was a little jealous of this; even with my godly genes, I wasn't so endowed. My envy must've showed on my face, as she tittered.

“Are you merely here to ogle me, wench? Or do you have need of me, the Star of Venus?”

I pointed at her dramatically,” I'm here to defeat you, Ishtar, and prove to my father that I am the best amongst all deities!”

Her titter grew to a sadistic cackle,” You defeat me? What are you going to do? Lift up your haunches and mewl at me like a cat in heat?”

I huffed,” Don't confuse me for Aphrodite Pandemos, Ishtar! I'm the Font of Love itself and a master of Agapankration!”

“Master of....what?” Ishtar blinked.

“Anything-goes Love,” I muttered.

She cackled again,” You shameless hussy! If you want a fight, fine, then! I'll oblige you! I invoke the Mes! I deny you your divinity!”

I gasped, as I felt an ineffable power sucked from me. In spite of this frailty, I shrugged,” that's not so bad.”

“I deny you your ladyship!”

I grunted again, as I clutched my throbbing crotch. Despite this unexpected attack, I knew what she did, and in spite of it, I smiled through the pain.

“My father deals with this pain every day. I will do so as well, with grace and aplomb!” I declared haughtily.

“I deny you Peace and Victory!” she declared, as more energy fled me. Struggling to stand, I smirked in spite of this. Even if I was denied victory, I couldn't surrender!

“I don't care! Keep removing things! I'll beat you yet!” I cried, puffing out my chest in defiance, as Ishtar stamped her foot.

“Fine, then! I'll deny you--” she cried as I rushed forward. I grabbed her tightly, sealing her arms to her sides with my embrace.

“I love you,” I said, as I stared deeply into her eyes.

“W-w-w-w-w-w-w-whaaaaaaat?” she demanded, as I gently touched her chin.

“I really mean it. It doesn't matter what you remove from me; it won't change that fact. I love you,” I reiterated. She squirmed futilely in my grip, until I couldn't hold on, and she scrambled back.

“What is the meaning to this brazen attitude, Aphrodite!?” she demanded.

“I told you; I am a master of Agapankration. Anything goes in love, and that includes the basics. First Motion: Brazen Declaration,” I declared happily, as her face flared red.

“This doesn't make any sense! Argh, I'll let you off today! Marduk! Pick me up,” she called, as a gigantic golden bull the size of a house descended from on high. Hopping onto its back, Ishtar glared at me, as I felt my divinity, my peace and all those ideals and concepts stolen from me returned.

“Love truly changes everything. Including victory from defeat!” I nodded,” Oh! Ought to tell Father!”

Returning back to Father's temple, he eyed me irately,” You're back. Did you accomplish what you sought?”

“Of course I did, Father! I defeated that incorrigible Star of Venus, and proved the primacy of Love over her self-imposed power-lust!” I cried happily as he sighed.

“Did you now? Or did you merely use your own twisted logic to befuddle her?”

I paused,” B-but, she left! I won!”

He sighed,” Really now, Aphrodite. If you wish to do so, you need to do so decisively. Don’t resort to your twisted logic and tactics. Now come along, your mother is asking for you.”

“Very good, Father!” I cried, rushing off. I knew he wanted me away, but it doesn't matter. One day, he'll accept me, and I'll show even him the beauty of Love.

#fiction #fantasy #mythology #Adventure #short story #aphrodite

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sam-miniature-pigeon · 5 years

Text

I saw Dumbo last Friday! On one hand, I loved it, on the other hand, I hated it. Here are my thoughts! (Spoiler warning!!)

When I was little Dumbo was my favorite movie. I would watch Dumbo 6 times in a day if my ma let me. I heard the announcement for Dumbo (2019) and was so excited! I noticed it was going to be directed by Tim Burton, got a little nervous, but mostly excited. I knew the story was going to change a bit because that’s usually what happens in remakes. However, this movie took change to a new level- it quickly stepped out of the label of “remake” and became it’s own, new idea. The movie starts off with the classic train scene. The train has its cute little face, it’s sunny instead of storming like in the original. The main theme kicks in and I’m bouncing in my seat with excitement. But, the second they stop the train, the movie itself derails- it’s not the Dumbo we grew up with anymore. Right away, I couldn’t even express my hatred for Milly Farrier, Holt’s daughter and one of the protagonists. As the movie continued, I hated her more! She completely pulled me out of the movie almost immediately and it was so hard to get back into it because she played such a big role. It’s not Nico Parker’s (the actress who played Milly) fault. She did a pretty good job of portraying her character, it was the writing! Her lines were copied and pasted over and over again. “It’s an experiment.” “We’re conducting an experiment.” “We did an experiment.” “It’s science!” “Science is so important.” And other like-phrases. Just the “I’m better than you” attitude and the “I’m the smart one” character was stretched way too much. Right when the kids discovered Dumbo could fly, “We were conducting an experiment!” You were playing with the elephant. The constant validation of “I’m the smart one” was too much for me. Once Holt is introduced, we see that he is a war hero who has lost his arm in battle. His kids have a very hard time accepting this and he becomes almost a laughing stock. All of this pressure of the world laughing that he’s missing an arm, while also being a failing father for a majority of the movie weigh down on him, but he never cracks even once. He maintains his role as a loving and caring father and an overall great guy. A very minor complaint, explaining human concepts to a baby elephant is wild. The only gripe I have about Joe, Holt’s son, is when he explains to Dumbo how to blow his ears out of his face. It’s so innocent and establishes a relationship between Dumbo and the kids, but...it’s a newborn elephant. What are the chances that it understands that? I enjoyed Joe’s character because he was fun and obnoxious! He was like 11? He acted like an 11-year-old usually does and it’s great! We have new characters, new personalities, new scenarios! Overall very fun. Instead of a car full of pretentious elephants harassing Mrs. Jumbo over her baby, there is no elephant personality except for Dumbo. Mrs. Jumbo wasn’t even part of the circus until a week or so prior to when the movie was set! Delivering Dumbo, I understand that Disney was going for a much more realistic movie, so I understand why we couldn’t have the stork song with all the baby circus animals being brought to their mothers. Dumbo is born and everyone immediately rejects him, which I suppose is the same in the 1941 version. Mrs. Jumbo got locked away for the same reason- attacking the audience/kids for harassing her son. However, I could have done without the “evil” caretaker who just harassed the elephants. The death of the caretaker was a big eyeroll because of course, mayhem happened. Of course! When you have an angry elephant, why would you harass it even more and endanger the audience? I don’t understand why that was thrown in there other than “Holt’s a good guy, look!” Along with this, I adore “Baby Mine,” because it’s such an iconic part of the movie. It felt less so in this remake. You don’t see the mother, that I remember, anyway. You don’t see the emotion of joy, sadness, and desperation to see her baby while locked away. As well as Dumbo’s confusion, fear, joy, and need to be with his mother after she’s been ripped away. It felt forced, as I should expect from CGI elephants and Miss Atlantis (the mermaid, played by Sharon Rooney) singing the song for whatever reason. Dumbo learns to fly. We see “Timothy” maybe 3 times in the whole movie. It really bothered me that he wasn’t in the movie at all. Even just having Dumbo befriend a mouse and have it around whenever he was resting would have been enough for me. Introducing him for no reason other than companionship while he was alone would be okay- especially considering this newborn elephant was alone for most of the movie other than two kids. The feather was of great importance, as an ode to the original, but he didn’t get it in the same manner, which is alright, but the way Dumbo had the feather the entire time made me very upset. Why did he swallow it? Why did Dumbo feel the need to inhale and swallow the feather even after he knew how to fly? He wanted the feather, felt he needed the feather, could easily fly and hold it, but he just felt the need to suck it up through the nose and swallowing it just for the hell of it? After Dumbo is discovered, the circus is offered an act, as well as a home for all the members, by V.A. Vandevere, the owner of Dreamland. It was a very cliche “I’m the rich evil guy who is here to use you” trope. I suppose Max Medici, the circus owner, was blinded by money and an opportunity to give his performers a better life. But Vandevere was clearly the antagonist from the beginning. Not just how he looks, but the way he talked, strange way he acted, etc. It was far too overexaggerated. From the second he offered an act, you think “Ok, he’s lying and stealing your discovery. He never cared about your circus until you got this elephant. He’s exploiting you to benefit himself and will keep you in the background or kick you out the second he gets.” After they join Dreamland, it seems that literally everyone who works there is also evil. But why? Abuse the baby elephant! This whole, huge park agrees! Everyone except for Colette Marchant is evil in Dreamland. Going into Colette’s character, the tension between her and Holt was overpowering. Even when they first met. She introduces herself and Holt immediately jumps to a “Soo...you single?” sort of statement. Subtly, of course. But the straight-up tension was insane, especially when they placed so much mourning at the beginning of the movie for the deceased mother and wife. Overall, I enjoyed her as a character. I think Eva Green did a great job and I think the character was written well. I don’t understand why we had to have her ride Dumbo? Was a flying elephant not impressive enough? Did we really need a pretty french lady riding it? I know that it had to happen to start a relationship between Holt, Milly, Joe, and Dumbo. As well as providing Dumbo the “training” for the climax of the movie. But as an idea itself, even though it served a purpose, I thought it was silly. Elephants on Parade was impressive. I thought it was very cool! I am okay with the fact that it wasn’t alcohol induced and fit pretty well into the circus-like performance. However, it’s unexplained if that was real? I thoroughly enjoyed the scene, but my mind was racing with questions of: How did they get the bubbles to do that? They’re bubbles. Is Dumbo imagining the elephants and it’s a normal bubble show? But why would he see or interpret things that aren’t happening if he’s never done it before? How would they essentially train bubbles to do that? And so on. Long story short, the circus is fired and only Holt, his kids, Max, and Dumbo will stay. It’s sad but fairly predictable. Once we discover that Dumbo’s mom is at the park, Vandevere orders to have her killed. Ok! If you didn’t already pick up on the fact that he’s the bad guy, we took it to the extreme of killing the elephant instead of selling her somewhere else. Of course, the circus team bands together to save her and they succeed, but the rest of the movie was plain nonsense to me. In Nightmareland, or whatever that section of the park was called, the animals looked so horrifically fake. They looked like animatronics or horribly funded CGI. Along with that, there’s literally no purpose in having live animals in that part of the park. Vandevere is portrayed as a manipulative entrepreneur who loves his fame and money. But does he not realize that it would be more cost-effective to not have live animals chained to the floor? Do inspectors not come to look at the park and think ‘You can’t have these animals chained up in here all the time!’?” Moving to the climax, the circus creates a plan to save Mrs. Jumbo and Dumbo from Dreamland and release them into the wild. The park catches fire due to a tantrum in the power towers by Vandevere, who is oblivious to everything burning around him. Dumbo lands with Colette to see his mother and makes the decision that he must first save his friends. Holt, Milly, and Joe are trapped inside of a burning tent until Dumbo miraculously saves them with an excessive amount of water in his trunk. He loses his feather in the flames and cannot fly anymore. Milly gives him a dramatic and symbolic speech about how he doesn’t need the feather to fly. A symbolic speech to an elephant. He understands and takes the kids to safety, weirdly knowing exactly where in town everyone would be. Meanwhile, Holt rides off on horseback. Vandevere chases him down and insists that he will lose everything he loves or something cliche. Holt directs Vandevere’s attention to Dreamland which is collapsing and engulfed in fire. The movie ends with a touching reuniting of the circus family, an introduction of the circus new and improved with no animals, and a scene of Dumbo and his mother in the wild meeting the other elephants as Dumbo soars above them. A number of issues I have with that: How do you not notice your entire livelihood burning and collapsing around you? Upon immediately complaining about this, my friend leaned over and went “Uhm...what happened to the people on the roller coasters?” And I suddenly remembered them specifically showing roller coasters full of people stopping with the power outage. Knowing how little big parks care about getting people out in a timely manner I said, “They either jumped out or I guess they died, oof. I totally forgot about them.” Along with unnecessary and unexplained death, while evacuating Mrs. Jumbo- where did the other animals go? Were they released? Were all of them except Mrs. Jumbo in holding pens? Did they burn alive? Are they running rampant through the streets, terrorizing people? What happened? The new introduction to the circus was nice. I enjoyed it. It promoted a good message of how they refuse to partake in animal cruelty and want to improve the circus. However, I really didn’t need Danny DeVito staring directly into the camera. It’s not a complaint or bad part of the movie, but it’s more of personal uncomfort because it’s so rare to see characters look directly at you. Finally, while it’s a good idea, there is almost no way that all the released animals would survive in the wild. Especially Dumbo who lived the entirety of his life so far in captivity. I feel like it’s safe to assume Mrs. Jumbo was also in captivity a majority of her life. Elephants are very intelligent and I’m sure they would teach them if accepted into the herd, but it drew concerns when I saw it. I remember bears and tigers and such in the 1941 version, where if they were released into the wild, would surely die. Despite this long “review” that turned more into a rant, I did enjoy the movie! On its own, minus the plot holes, I think it would stand as a great movie! I had a good time watching it in theaters, but I always have a great time at the movies. I enjoyed most of the characters! It was a fun and entertaining movie, which at the end of the day is what matters for kids. Dumbo had a mid-range review- 40s-60% or so. Which I feel is fair, even though reviews are often harsh. Going off the specific topic of Dumbo, I’ve not seen many live-action remakes. I’ve seen The Jungle Book, Beauty and the Beast, and Christopher Robin (if you would consider that a remake). I adored The Jungle Book, though Beauty and the Beast was ok, Christopher Robin was heartwarming, and I both liked and hated Dumbo. I’ve given up hope on Mulan, The Lion King looks pretty good (worried about cast), and Aladdin looks nice and more true to the story than the past few have been, but because of these past few and especially Dumbo, I’m worried on how it will turn out in the long run. In all honesty, Disney is just about only making remakes to keep their characters from entering the public domain. Which is kind of shitty. Thinking of Disney now makes me very sad knowing that it’s purely money-driven. I don’t know too much about Walt Disney, but I would like to think that he was purely into joy and entertainment for all. I wish Disney would go back to wanting to promote joy and entertainment (and maybe throw an animated movie in the mix every once and a while).

#dumbo #dumbo 2019 #dumbo spoilers #spoilers #Disney #review #dumbo review #rant #LONG POST #sorry!!!

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wailingwhilewriting-blog · 6 years

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Tugging at my Heart, part 4

Edit: Re-upload because I suck at migrating blogs.

Summary: You’re a literature teacher who quickly takes an interest in the new P.E. teacher, Mr. Odinson.

Pairings: Teacher!Thor x Teacher!Reader

Type: Series

Warnings: Minor cursing, fluff, a little bit creepy dudebro behaviour.

Word Count: 2449

A/N: I loved, loved, loved writing this chapter. Honestly, I think I used so many tropes and cliche’s in this chapter, but that’s the good thing about writing your own fanfiction, you can use whatever the hell you want. I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I did, and still do!

Masterlist

Part 3, part 5

You smiled lightly at the bartender of the Commodore, a buff guy in a black t-shirt with an amazing smile, but honestly, your thoughts were very much preoccupied with a different buff dude. No, not a dude. A man. You shook your head slightly and grimaced at your train of thought.

You were at the Commodore, a local bar that was often frequented by you, Natasha and Maria Hill, but you were seriously beginning to think that they had forgotten about you. You had finished your first scotch and had just gotten your refill, and the buff bartender was beginning to give you serious pity-glances.

Besides feeling rather fed up with your flunking friends, you felt rather pretty. It was amazing what your favourite maroon dress did for your mood, or maybe it was just the change from your formal attire that had you feeling pretty.

You took a gentle sip from your scotch as you gazed at the bar’s entrance, gently tapping your heel against your bar stool. You couldn’t believe Nat and Maria had forgotten about you. You growled softly. Unless, of course, this was a set-up, maybe a begin of the year prank. You took a look around the bar itself, and found it rather empty. What a joke…

You downed your scotch, grimaced as the scotch went down your throat and shook your head slightly to get rid of the burn. You grabbed your purse and vest and were about to walk out of the Commodore when a hand gently grabbed your wrist. You whirled around, expecting to see either Natasha or Maria, but you were greeted by a brown-haired guy that seemed vaguely familiar.

You groaned inwardly. It was Brad. You recognized his overly fake tan now. He greeted you with open arms and a stupid grin.

"(f/n)! Good to see you!" he said with a gruff voice, while you managed an awkward smile. You hugged him weakly, trying to break apart as quick as you could.

"Brad... Good to see you too," you faltered.

He saw your vest and purse. "What you leaving already? But the night has only just begun!"

"Errm, I was actually waiting for someone," you stammered, but Brad didn't look convinced.

"Oh, I'd love to meet your friends!" he said quickly, and made a point of it to look around dramatically.

"I'm afraid I got stood up..." you tried.

"Oh no... That's terrible... Who could forget about a meeting with a lovely lady like you?" He lightly ghosted his hand over your bare arm, and you flinched back. "Come! Have a drink with me, let's catch up!" he said.

"No thanks, Brad. I should really head out," you managed.

"Well, let me drive you home then!" he offered, and you quickly shook your head.

"No that's fine, but thanks..." You tried to walk past him, but he took a step to the side and blocked your way.

"I insist," he said with a smile you could only deem creepy. You threw a glance at the bartender who was serving a large group of girls. You glanced at the entrance, but neither Nat or Maria had the timing to walk in right that moment.

"You know what? I have to use the restroom..." you said with grim smile, and turned away from the entrance and back towards the back of the bar. Once you reached the bathroom you quickly checked your phone. No messages. You furiously picked Natasha's number and groaned with every soft beep until, eventually, you reached her voicemail. You tried again, but to no avail. You tried Maria's number, but right that moment your phone beeped softly that your battery was empty and died in your hands.

"No! No, no. Fuck!" you cursed. You checked the stalls for any other ladies that might help you, but all came up empty. This was slowly turning into a horror movie scenario and you didn't like it one bit.

You left the bathroom and peeked out through the door. Brad was still waiting at the bar. He was gazing around casually, and when his eyes drifted towards the bathrooms, you quickly retreated. You walked back to the sinks and stared at yourself for a moment.

"Alright (f/n), you got this. You just have to convince him you have a boyfriend! Or that you have a concealed gun! Either works!" you spoke sternly to yourself. You took a deep breath and took off towards the bar again, clenching your fists in case you had to use them.

Brad greeted you with a wide smile, which you answered with a slight nod.

"There she is!" he said loudly. "Wow, it feels like I haven't seen you in forever, (f/n). Actually, I think it was our first date that I last saw you."

You fidgeted uneasily with your purse, and tried to walk past him again, but he skilfully herded you to his side with his arm.

"I wonder why you never called me back..." he said softly, and you quickly took a step away from him.

"It doesn't matter, Brad, I have a boyfriend now," you tried to say it with a growl, but you saw that he didn't buy it.

"Oh, is he the one that stood you up? Because that is just bad manners... And I don't stand for ladies being treated badly," he leaned into you and you could smell the alcohol on his breath. You took another step back in disgust.

You heard the bar door’s bell jingle and you prayed for Maria’s brown coupe of hair or Natasha’s red locks. When a blonde walked in, your heart sank, and lifted again one beat later when you actually recognized the blonde giant. You rushed past Brad, worked your way past all the bar stools and nearly jumped into Thor’s arms, hugging him tightly. Thor stumbled back a step as he caught you and gently wrapped his arms around your waist as he held you up.

“Rather an affectionate greeting, (f/n)…” he muttered softly as he spun you around.

“Yeah, sorry about that…” you breathed back, your cheeks glowing. Thor let you down but kept his arms around your waist and looked at you curiously.

“Remember the guy I told you about… the one I went on one date with, and as soon as he knew I was a teacher suggested roleplay?” You muttered softly as you fidgeted with Thor’s jacket, which was only a few shades darker than your maroon dress. Thor nodded. “Yeah, he’s here,” you said reluctantly.

“Are you okay?” Thor said immediately, his eyes searing over the bar’s interior.

“Yeah, I’m fine. He just.. I just want to leave,” you muttered.

Brad decided to butt in right that moment. “Hi! You must be the boyfriend,” he said, a challenge hidden in his tone and eyes.

You felt Thor tighten his grip on your waist as he shook Brad’s hand and smiled politely. “That’s right,” he said simply.

“Man, you are so tall!” Brad said dramatically. He hit Thor on the shoulder in a mock-gesture of friendship, and Thor only looked at his shoulder, then back at Brad. You swore there was a crackle of energy in the air as the two men stared each other down. Brad backed down from the stare-down after a moment and took a step back, taking a swig of his beer.

“Wise man,” Thor said heartily, smacked Brad on the shoulder so hard that he stumbled backwards and gently led you towards one of the free booths. You two sat on opposite sides of the table and you couldn’t help but grasp his hands tightly in yours as you smiled widely at him.

“Thank you,” you said sincerely. “You saved me.”

Thor chuckled and leaned into you, gently squeezing your joined hands. “Not a problem, (f/n). I’m glad Natasha invited me out tonight.”

You stared at him for a moment. “Nat invited you out?”

Thor nodded. “She said to meet her here, said you and ms. Hill would gather here.”

“That bi –“ you growled, quickly cutting yourself off at the last moment. Thor stared at you with a slightly confused grin. “I’m afraid we’ve both been misled, my fine colleague. This was a set-up, and they are not coming,” you sighed. You looked at the door and groaned when you saw that Brad was still hanging at the bar. “Looks like we’ll have to hold up the charade a little while longer when we get out of here.”

Thor chuckled. “Even if this was a set-up, I only just arrived, (f/n). And we don’t have to leave because you’re silly admirer is eyeing us up.”

“I mean, sure, but I can’t expect you to keep up the charade… Or fight him, or whatever,” you said hesitantly.

“Are you kidding? We men don’t always solve things with our fists,” Thor said with a grin. He leaned in close and pressed a kiss to your hands. “Besides, I’m really rather enjoying being your boyfriend for the night.”

You smiled widely and shook your head a little. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”

“Please, it’s perfectly fine,” Thor laughed and leaned in a bit more. “Now, how about we test Chad’s –“

“Brad.”

“… How about we test Brad’s endurance, eh? Give him a run for his money.”

You nodded and snorted loudly as you laughed. The two scotches you had downed earlier were certainly the cause, but you didn’t care much at the moment. You really only cared for Thor’s blue eyes as they twinkled cheerily at you.

Thor ordered a beer and you ordered a whiskey, straight on the rocks and the two of you fell into easy conversation. Thor spoke cheerily of his family. His father was a rather influential figure in a major company, and Thor had once been destined to follow in his father’s footsteps, but he had declined and pursued something that made him feel like a good man. His brother Loki had clashed with his father and Thor himself over the family legacy, and he had spent some time away from the family, but contact had been restored in the last few years.

You talked lightly of your own family, and how you had chosen to become a teacher after your English Bachelor because it was the only thing you could think of that actually made sense to you. You spoke of how you met Nat and how she had sort of taken you under her wing.

You switched over to wine, and Thor kept on the beer. He talked of his youth in Norway and the city of Asgard where he was born. He talked of his earliest memories there, of the long talks his father had with him and his brother. He even talked of his first steady girlfriend, who had changed him from a foolish jerk into someone who wanted to strive for better things.

“And then she dumped me when I spend some months back in Norway…” he said with a reminiscent grin. “It was driving her mad that I was away so often, and honestly, who could blame her.”

“Did you ever look her up after you came back?”

“Yeah.. She became a brilliant scientist. Married a friendly lad about a year ago,” Thor said with a sad smile.

“Ah..” You said softly. You snaked your fingers into his without a second thought. After a moment of smiling sheepishly at him, you glanced at your intertwined fingers and quickly tried to pull them back, but Thor quickly grabbed your hand with his other one. He smiled lightly and tilted his head towards the bar, where Brad still hung out, slightly wobbly on his legs after consuming one beer too many.

You burst out laughing, which, when sober, you would have found terribly embarrassing, but right now you didn’t really mind. Your peripheral vision was getting pretty blurry, so you shook your head when Thor offered to buy you a refill.

Thor threw a glance around the bar, which had slowly emptied out even more. He glanced at his watch and frowned slightly at the time. “Right, I think it’s about time to get you home. You ready for another show of force for Brad over there?” He rose from the booth and offered you his arm.

You chuckled and gratefully took his arm. You felt slightly unsteady on your legs as Thor led you towards the bar. He kept his arm around your waist protectively as he paid the bill and winked at you as he led you past the bar and past Brad. Brad looked at the two of you sluggishly as you walked towards the door. You put on your thin vest and eyed the cold outside air with reluctance, but Thor quickly shook out of his jacket.

“Allow me,” he said softly, and gently placed his jacket over your shoulders. He glanced in Brad’s general direction and gently leaned into you, bringing his lips rather close to your ear. “Ready for the big finale so Chad doesn’t bother you again?”

You nodded quietly as you didn’t much trust your voice at the moment. Thor let his lips linger near your ear a little longer, and a shiver ran down your spine.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked softly. Your heart felt like it was hammering against your rib-cage, trying to break free. You gave the tiniest of nods. Thor chuckled, and the deep rumble in his chest made you only feel more unsteady. He gently wrapped his arm around your waist, and cupped your face with his free hand. He softly pressed his lips to yours and you melted into his embrace. Your fingers knotted themselves into his black t-shirt, and he gently stroked your cheek with his thumb as he kissed you with a bit more fervour. When he was about to break away you pulled him back by his shirt, pressing one more firm kiss to his lips.

Your breath hitched slightly when you did break apart then, figuring that was all you were going to get, but Thor pressed one more kiss to your jaw, gently tilting your chin upwards with his fingers. He straightened, that ridiculous grin of his widening as he looked at you for a long moment. He winked at you while he glanced at the bar and held up his hand in greeting.

“Good to meet you, Chad!” he said with a rather smug grin, wound his arm around your shoulder and the two of you swiftly walked out of the Commodore. All the while your heart was hammering against your ribs like it wanted to burst from elation.

#thor #thor x reader #thor fanfiction

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jrazillashadowworks · 6 years

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Behind the Mask

So, this short is for Victubia’s February theme of Behind the Mask. I really enjoyed writing this silly story and I hope that you will enjoy reading it as well!

Word Count: 2053

Warnings: None

It had been a long day of disappointing drills for Luca, the sun slowly descending into the warm, red, pink, and purple liquid hues of the darkening sky before he was let loose. It would be a lie if Luca admitted he wasn’t distracted the entire day, mind preoccupied with looking forward to going to the Royal Library to see his crush Melissa as soon as he was free.

Unfortunately for him, his military drills were overseen by Channarong, the most prestigious strategist within the Royal army, who kept him there longer than anyone due to his abysmal attention span and scores in each session. At the very end, he had sighed and slapped Luca on the forehead with a gilded, folded fan.

“You hold yourself as loyal to her majesty,” Channarong said coldly, his voice like icy steel. “With such a pathetic display, the Queen herself would feel a true dishonor should she had witnessed it. Don’t let it happen again.”

With the plump strategist disappointingly walking away, Luca couldn’t help but feel tears sting his eyes, finally realizing the weight and severity of his failure. There was nothing he abhorred more than failing his Queen. Sniffing loudly, he promised indeed that he would not fail her again.

Leaving the training grounds, Luca felt the immeasurable burden of his incompetence on his consciousness, almost too ashamed to meet with Melissa after failing in such a manner. So, it was more out of habit that his body continued on to the library than his mind, which was lost in deep thought.

However, along the way, a ruckus broke out in front of him, ripping him back. Luca only caught a glimpse, as a robed figure knocked over a woman carrying a basket. With an alarmed yelp, she fell over and the bizarre person darted into the nearest alleyway. Instantly, a flare of inspiration filled Luca’s chest, a chance to make up for his dreadful performance that day. Whoever this person was, they were surely up to no good.

Running up alongside the woman, he helped her to her feet and kindly asked if she was okay, instantly giving chase to the individual once she nodded, a blush setting on her cheeks. Surged with purpose, he charged just in time to see the billowing tail of the blue cloak reach the bend. Turning the corner after them, Luca caught sight of the strange, Papier Mache mask made up of white and yellowed book pages, adorning the hooded figure as it looked back at the hulking man. “Wait up,” Luca amiably called out.

From then, a ridiculous game of cat and mouse transpired in the streets of the Capital, the two weaving through the evening crowds, the masked one keeping just out of reach. Luca pressed on, politely yelling at all to get out of the way, while the figure knocked over whoever and whatever they could to bar the muscular Luca, who apologized to all who were affected.

Amongst the crowd, out of the corner of his eye, by a pure stroke of luck, a stern ‘friend’ of Luca’s raised a brow, freezing on the spot, possibly hoping to not be noticed. Unfortunately for him, Luca saw him.

“Hi, Riley,” Luca chimed excitedly, waving madly without losing his stride. “I’m chasing a suspicious individual! Once I capture them, I won’t have failed the Queen! Isn’t that great?! Got to go, bye!” Riley completely ignored him and the confused eyes darting to him and left the scene.

Keeping up his warm, silly expression, breathing lightly, Luca easily out winded the one in the mask who begun to slow after ten minutes of continuous running. Though it was impossible to see the villains face, it would surely be surprised that such a behemoth could be so fast.

Finally, by some bad planning on the part of the villain, they had run into a dead end in the form of a tall brick wall. Now, Luca stood at the mouth, thick arms out. “I gotcha,” he said with a smile.

The cloaked individual paced back and forth, mumbling curses as they started to jump pathetically at the wall, fingers not gaining purchase between the grout to climb up. At that moment, their cloak opened up, revealing a strapped, leather knapsack, filled with multiple books and tomes.

“Drat and curses,” they finally hissed, their voice all over the place, piercing high octaves at each end of their sentences. “You belligerent oaf! I have never been caught before. To think it would be to such a bumbling beast! For shame!”

Lots of words had been lost to Luca, who simply stood there and smiled brightly, large chest heaving. “By her majesty, you will turn yourself in…” Mid-sentence, Luca realized he had no idea what the person had done wrong. “For…whatever crime you have committed.”

“Blast it! Fine!” They unstrapped the bag and held it out. “Rejoice you buffoon, for you have caught the nationally infamous, Victubian book thief!”

Luca’s expression slacked as he then gasped. “Woah! That’s pretty impressive!”

“It is?” The thief faltered, unsure if he was serious. “I mean, yes! That’s right! So, well done! You’ll be lauded as a hero for this!”

Luca’s face flushed as he suddenly chuckled bashfully. “I’m a hero,” he said more to himself. “Wait until I tell Melissa!”

“Congratulations. So are you going to take the books or not?”

“Ooh, right.” Luca closed the distance and took the bag into his hand, clasping it close to his powerful chest.

“Now do you want to know how to become more of a hero?”

Peering down into the mask of the thief, Luca’s sea green and blue eyes sparkled. “How?”

“You let me go. It means that one day you can catch me again and then you’ll be twice the hero.”

Luca gasped innocently. “Really?!”

“Absolutely. You can trust me. Would this face lie?”

“But I can’t see your face…”

They chuckled and started to lift up the mask slowly. Out of nowhere, a rush of professional and forceful voices blared out behind Luca, a ways back. Taken off guard at the moment, Luca failed to keep the thief, as they took the opportunity to dash past the man and disappear just in time for police officers to come into view.

Ray spearheaded this group of officers who surrounded Luca now. Fixing his cap, the young constable looked Luca up and down. “What happened here?”

“Well, I had caught the infamous Victubian book thief but…then they got away.”

“The who? Never mind, follow me to the station. We can talk about it there. You lot, search around for this thief. They couldn’t have gotten far right?”

“Umhm.”

Being brought to the precinct, they discussed the situation, Luca less than helpful with as little information as he actually had. At this point he was growing giddy, not wanting to miss, Melissa at the library, night already falling. Leg bouncing, he answered questions as quickly as he could. Ray finally let him go after a few minutes, along with the books, no traces of the masked thief left on any of them.

“Have a good night, soldier Luca. Thank you for your cooperation.”

“Bye officer!”

Once outside, Luca instantly ran all the way the library with a fervor that matched the earlier chase. Along the way, figuring that since the books were given to him, he decided he would gift them to Melissa, considering her overwhelming fondness for such things. He did not check what the books were even about but assumed it would do just the same, knowing her thirst for new information and knowledge.

Reaching the front steps of the astonishingly elegant and massive library between the VU and VMA, Luca huffed, beaming up at the front door. All windows were ablaze with the warm glow of the golden lights within, cascading rectangles of luminance on the stone steps. Despite his long and strangely busy day, a new blossom of excitement filled him with energy and he skipped up to the entrance and swung open the door a bit too strongly. Flinching at the harsh sound of the screeching hinges, he chuckled nervously, glancing into the building.

Right away, he was greeted by a collective hiss from the libraries patrons, shushing him, glaring disapprovingly at his disruptive entrance. Grinning childishly, Luca waved with his free hand. “Sorry,” he half whispered.

Attention turning away from him, he took in the glory of the Royal Library, a tradition he was unable to break, no matter how many times he entered. He was always in absolute awe of its magnificence, the circular main building still busy even at this time of night. Three floors of countless books covered the shelved walls, with rolling, wooden ladders to reach the higher tomes leaned against them. The spines of the books created a rainbow tapestry of color all around him. These walls reached up to the glass-domed ceiling, revealing the now darkened sky, twinkling in starlight. The moon almost directly overhead, bathed the dome in the pale light, glistening against the window panes.

After standing hilariously still for a good couple of minutes once again lost to the beauty of his surroundings, a soft, sweet, and intelligent feminine voice addressed him. Blinking wildly, being pulled back to reality by the angelic, familiar tone, he felt his face immediately heat up as a radiant blush stretched across his face. Unable to contain his silly smile, he looked down on the gorgeous, dark-skinned beauty standing below him, dressed smartly and gracefully, thick, long and wavy purple hair dancing down past her shoulders and down her back.

Staring up at him with tantalizing violet eyes and an amused expression, raising the two beauty marks under the edge of her right eye, her purple brows lifting high, a long scar stretching diagonally at the corner of the right, she chuckled lightly. “Good evening, Luca.”

Luca had forgotten to breathe, finally sucking in air, a rather dramatic, strange sound. “Hello, Gor…Melissa.”

Chuckling, she grabbed his hand. “Stop standing at the entrance like a doorman at a fancy hotel and come sit down.”

Face practically a scorching, red spotlight, he followed her to the reception desk where she sat down, her posture perfect and neat. Taking a seat beside her, he fidgeted, unable to take his eyes off her. Melissa stamped a book then side glanced at him. “You look rather spent today, Luca. Rough day?”

Luca began to spill out the details of his entire day, his mouth like the opening of floodgates, words rushing out. Most people would find it impossible to keep up with the fool’s silly ravings, but Melissa did not miss a word, listening intently. She eased his worries about his earlier failure and inspired him to work harder with encouragement. Finally, he came upon the incident with the thief and lifted the bag of books onto the glossy reception desk. “A gift for you,” Luca bubbled.

Melissa scoffed lightly and gently removed and lined up the books. “I can’t believe you got them back.”

“Got them back?”

Her face lit up as she opened the covers of each book, revealing the prestigious, purple stamp of the Royal Library above the titles. “These were all stolen this afternoon by the strange individual you mentioned.” She beamed, reaching out to gingerly touch his hand yet again. “Thank you so very much, Luca. You truly are a hero.”

At a complete loss, he mumbled incoherent words, blinking at her, impossibly blushing even more than before. “T-Thank you so very much, Melissa.” Tears once again threatened to well up in his eyes, but he wiped them away quickly. “H-How was your day?”

Giggling, a chiming sound that tickled Luca’s ears with delight, Melissa’s thick lips twitched upwards at the edges. “How about we go out to dinner and I’ll tell you all about it?”

Feeling as if his heart would explode from his chest from the sheer elation, his jaw slacked in utter disbelief. “Really?!” He asked breathlessly.

Melissa leaned closer to him, batting her lashes. “If you want to of course.”

Gulping down, he nodded briskly, an almost boyish innocence on his face. “Yes, please. I would love nothing more.”

Pleased, she stacked the recovered books and shut the last cover. “Wonderful.”

#Victubia #fan fiction #my writing #theme of the month

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sweetlysilent · 7 years

Text

Friendly Battle

Requested By: Anonymous

hi there!! i just started following you and i absolutely LOVE your acc/your writing. i was wondering if you could write a peter parker x reader inspired by the song “act my age” by hoodie allen. it’s a really fun song but idk what the plot could be? just a lot of funny banter, sarcasm, cheesy jokes, etc. a silly and happy kind of imagine i guess? thank you so much! :) xx

If you want to listen to the song, click here

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Description: You and Peter had a goofy relationship, you both constantly messed with each other, doing your best to either embarrass one another or do the exact opposite and frustrate the living hell out of each other. You two were the definition of “friendship goals.”

Warnings: Nothing really major, slight swearing?? Some teasing, cuteness

Word Count: 2,338

A/N: This was really fun to write, the song gave me many different approaches to the storyline and I really like the outcome of it. I think they're relationship is really cute and dorky and idk I just love it. Anyways I hope you enjoy! :)

"Hey, Parker!" You shouted, making Peter's head snap up quickly, only to be met with a paper ball hitting him in the face.

You and Ned let out fits of laughter, as Peter glared at the both of you.

"I'm going to get you back you know that right?" Peter smirked at you, making you smirk back.

"Bring it on." You challenged, giving him one of your famous grins, you weren't afraid of a little battle.

During the entire day of school, you and Peter were constantly at one another, whether it was bumping into each other in the hallway, or throwing something at one another.

The bell rung signaling that it was time for lunch, also meaning it was the perfect time to really mess with Peter.

When Peter wasn't looking you quietly took his cookie off his tray, giving Ned a look not to spill the beans.

"What the- Y/N!" Peter shouted, he was checking all over his tray, he could have sworn he had gotten a cookie with his lunch, and now it was mysteriously gone.

"Yes, Peter?" You smiled innocently, as he narrowed his eyes at you.

"I know you took my cookie, you -you thief!" He proclaimed, pointing a finger at you.

You dramatically gasped, slowly handing Ned the cookie underneath the table.

"I'm sorry Peter, but I don't have your cookie." You made a pouting face in a teasing manner, taking a sip of your water.

"That's impossible, it had to of been you." Peter stood up, walking around the table, checking your area where you sat, before huffing seeing you really did have it.

"Something isn't adding up." He spoke to himself, before noticing his cookie had reappeared on his plate.

Peter's eyes squinted together, looking between you and Ned who had a goofy grin on his face.

"You traitor!" Peter accused Ned, who burst out laughing, making you laugh along with him.

"She told me to!" Ned defended himself, making you snort in response.

"Did not, he willingly helped me." You smiled at Peter, who was already glaring at you playfully.

"I'll remember this, don't you worry." Peter looked between the both of you, messing up your hair, which made you frown and glare at Peter.

"This is war." Peter declared, breaking a piece of his cookie off and popping it into his mouth.

He was about to say something else, but got distracted by the taste of the cookie, he wasn't going to lie, he was glad he got it back.

"Damn.. this really is a good cookie, you're missing out Y/N, I would have shared it with you, but you did steal it from me so.." He smirked, making you roll your eyes playfully.

"You're such a dork." You laughed, making Peter smile and continue eating his cookie happily.

The last bell of the day finally rang, meaning school was over, which you were extremely thrilled about.

Peter was walking with Ned, muttering how he wished Mr. Stark would stop treating him like a kid, which in return lead Ned to reply with well you are a kid, you're fifteen.

Thus making Peter roll his eyes, before seeing you walking ahead of them, he told Ned he'd see him later, before he ran off to catch up with you.

However, you were trying to process the entire day, Peter hadn't once messed with you all day, making you a bit anxious since he could attack at any moment.

Which is exactly what happened, you were walking to the subway, the only real transportation back home, only to be met with Peter appearing beside you out of nowhere.

"Good lord!" You shouted, immediately covering your mouth as people gave you looks.

Peter smirked, feeling satisfied that he had startled you.

"Hey best friend." He chuckled, wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

"Peter I really dislike you sometimes, you know that right?" You joked, making him grin slightly.

"Oh I know, I sometimes really dislike you too, but that's what makes our friendship great." He glanced at you, seeing the smile on your face.

We don't even fight,

We're like oil and some vinegar.

"Do you want to come over later? We can do something fun?" Peter suggested, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

"Sure, whatever you want Parker." You joked, shoving his shoulder slightly, exiting the train since it was your stop.

"See you later Y/N." He gave a goofy grin, making you laugh before walking off.

The entire afternoon you were trying to figure out what Peter could be planning, it was easy to tell he was up to something, he sucked at keeping secrets.

For hours you spent doing your homework, probably failing at it but you didn't really care, it was just homework.

You felt your phone buzz, seeing it was from Peter.

Parker: hey u can come over now if u want :)

You: ok b there soon.

Parker: hurry up i'm lonely :((((

You: ur so needy smh

Parker: am not !!

You smiled to your phone, seeing Peter's response, he was a complete and utter dork, something you loved about him.

You got onto the subway, and before you knew it you were arriving at his apartment door.

You knocked a few times before you heard the sounds of his footsteps rushing to the door.

"What took you so long? If I can remember correctly, I told you to hurryyyyyy." He grinned, making you roll your eyes dramatically.

"I can only travel so fast Parker." You smiled, patting his chest before entering his apartment.

"So what do you have in store for us tonight." You glanced over at him, who was trying to hide the grin on his face.

"I thought we could go golfing, or maybe bowling?" He shrugged, laughing as he saw your eyes widen.

"The only golf I ever tried to play was miniature." You laughed, your face turning a bit pink.

"Lame." He joked, making you stick your tongue out.

They say the way I act is immature.

"You're lucky you're my best friend." Peter chuckled, making you smirk slightly.

"You'd be lost without me Parker, admit it, you need your crazy, childish best friend." You smiled triumphantly, twirling your hair in-between your fingers.

Peter gave you a soft smile, making your insides melt a bit, you weren't going to lie, there were moments that Peter made you feel certain emotions you couldn't explain.

"Honestly Y/N, I would be lost without you." He confessed, then wrapped his arms around you.

"But now that all that mushiness is over, lets go bowling." He ruffled your hair, making you groan in annoyance.

Peter lived a few blocks away from the bowling alley, so you decided to walk there.

"You want to know a secret?" You spoke up, catching his attention.

"Do I want to know?" Peter looked at you suspiciously, making you smirk down at your shoes.

"It's actually about you, I just never felt like sharing it until now." You laughed quietly, making his eyes widen a bit.

"Oh god." He mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

"You know how we went to a party last week?" You smirked, looking at the buildings around you.

"Yeah.. Liz's party right?" He clarified, making you nod in agreement.

"Well, you might have had too much to drink?" You giggled quietly, making his face turn a darker pink shade, he was so thankful it was dark out.

"What did I do?" He muttered, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

"Well it's actually something we both did?" You spoke more of a question, making him even more confused.

"I might have had a little too much also." You laughed, making his eyes widen.

"I may have.. you know.. asked you to sign my boobs." You bit your lip slightly, trying to hold back your laughter.

Peter visibly swallowed, his eyes looking everywhere but you.

"D-Did I?" He stammered, making you let out a giggle.

"Indeed you did Parker, you even smiley faced your signature." You smirked, making his face turn a deep red.

"Oh lord, I'm never drinking again." Peter groaned, making you laugh in response.

"It was in sharpie too, it's still there actually." You looked over at him, who was staring at his shoes.

"I can't believe I did that." He laughed, making you smile slightly.

"I don't think I'm ever going to act my age, I wanna stay young, I wanna have fun. I want to be a teenager that makes stupid mistakes with their best friend." You smiled, making Peter grin slightly, before picking you up and twirling you around.

"This is why I love having you as a best friend Y/N." He laughed, before dragging you into the bowling alley.

You both walked up to the lane you were assigned, your inner competitiveness showing through both of you.

You walked up to the lane, ready to roll the ball, but freaked when you felt hands on your sides, tickling you.

Your ball flew out of your hands, going into the gutter, but you couldn't stop laughing.

"Peter!" You shrieked, making him laugh along with you.

"Oops, you missed." He grinned, making you glare at him playfully.

You both spent the entire game messing with each other, Peter kept constantly making you miss, making you extremely frustrated, while you did the exact same to him.

By the time the game was over, you both had done terrible.

"You're terrible at bowling you know that right Parker?" You bumped into his shoulder, as he smirked.

"Am I really though?" He looked down at you, seeing your confused expression.

"What do you mean?" You looked up at him, seeing his smile turn into a grin.

"Bowling is one of my favorite sports," He grinned, making you even more confused than before.

"Okay and?" You laughed, seeing his face still have the same grin.

"I was going to say, bowling is one of my favorite sports cause I always strike out with girls." He laughed, making your eyes widen in shock.

"Peter!" You laughed, hitting his chest.

"You know it's true, you're one of them." He laughed, wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

You rolled your eyes playfully, knowing full well he was right, but at this moment you didn't really care.

You were just happy to have a friend like him.

And there ain't nobody that can get in our way,

Oh, it's all good, it's alright, it's okay,

We can live however we want,

I wanna stay young,

I wanna have fun,

So if that's okay,

I don't think I'm ever going to act my age.

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emberfaye · 7 years

Text

Bitter

So @windsurfingthroughhell posted a really cruel thought about Cassie, Pritkin, and a coffee shop and I got inspired to write something for the first time in forever. It’s my first time writing Chanceverse, so I’m sorry if the details are wrong or characterization is bad.

John Pritkin had been many places in his life so far. There are many adjectives he supposes suit him: experienced, voyager, wayfairer, adventurer, seeker….

He’d sooner face another demon in the Shadowworld than claim one of those words.

If he had to pick, he’d probably best be described as “bloody exhausted”. Transfering across time zones is tough on your sleep cycle, especially if you wrapped up all your assignments in your old country before skipping over the Atlantic and having to come from behind and assist with a massive fuck up that only led to another mess that needed to get cleaned up

To say it had not been a smooth transition was a bit of an understatement.

Luckily, one of the few things that made John have some semblance of hope was the fact that America was a culture of instant gratification, no matter the occasion. They wanted what they wanted, when they wanted, the bigger the better.

Which worked out, because that meant you were guaranteed to find an open restaurant, store, or, Pritkin’s happy place, a 24 hour café. And not only was Bitter Beans open all night, all day, it had damn good coffee. (He was skeptical the first time he had it that it would live up to the name, but one sip and he could feel his adrenaline increase 1000%.)

And the absolutely best part was that his coworkers weren’t here. (Don’t get him wrong, he would die for one of his comrades in a heartbeat. But occasionally he just didn’t want to tolerate the comradery outside of “shit hitting the wall” kind of situations.)

Walking into Bitter Beans, rolling his eyes at the fact that the door stuck just the slightest when first pushed, he instinctively began to notice his surroundings. Being that he liked to work out early in the morning, he had gotten to use to a max of 3 other customers, however usually it was just him and the barista in the “gave up trying to modernize” dining room.

He supposed there’s always one thing that isn’t going to suck.

The barista, one he hadn’t seen before, is idly doodling, leaning on the counter with one arm. She calls out a greeting and straightens, and a strange look flashes through her eyes when he steps up to order. It’s gone in a heartbeat, and he doesn’t care to even think about it. People are crazy, and he just wants his coffee.

“One extra large black, to go.”

If his brevity bothers her, she doesn’t show it. She nods, one finger hitting the buttons on the computer. “4.12, please.”

He counts out the change, sets it on the counter and slides it towards her, then steps to the side to wait. She tenders her drawer, pushes her black and brown ponytail back over shoulder. He lets his eyes drift shut for just a minute, even though a part of him wants to keep an eye on the coffee, because last night was ridiculous (Did these mages even get properly qualified for their jobs?) and sleep was sparse in the few weeks he’d been here. Hell, sleep was parse this year, period.

“Here you go, sir!”

Sighing and opening his eyes, he turned to grab his coffee and saw the girl with two extra large cups. He opened his mouth to correct her, but she simply said, “You look really tired. My treat.” John was about to refuse again, but then he met her eyes and the sheer concern in them silenced him.

“Thank you.” He took them and started walking, an unsettling itch between his shoulders.

Who had that much compassion for a stranger, in this day and age?

The next time he stepped into Bitter Beans, was of course, the day it was crowded. Because he was angry, he had to deal with people. Of bloody course.

Scowling, he got into line. Where had these people been for the last several weeks? Were these even people, or just golems the universe had activated to aggravate him? The line seemed to not even move by inches, but simply in shuffles and sighs. He could barely see the overwhelmed barista as she did order by order, taking their money and then making their drink, and repeat.

Whatever expression she wore before he made it to the front of the line, he didn’t know. But he did notice that when she looked up and saw him, her face shone for just a split second and a smile teased her lips before she schooled her face back into the pleasant look all harried customer service workers rely on.

“One extra—”

“Extra large black, to go! 4.12, please.” John didn’t like being interrupted, especially when it was almost completely in sync with his words, but he also didn’t like that she had caught him so completely off guard. His scowl deepened and he dropped the money on the counter before moving aside to let her get the coffee. She was apparently out of the right cups, because she disappeared through the small door for a few minutes, and then came back with his beverage. She handed it to him with a smile, and he made sure to scowl as he took it from her (gently, he didn’t want to spill it, not just for the waste but also irritated as he was neither of them needed to feel that burn) and maneuvered to the exit.

It was hours later, after so much tedious meetings and paperwork, that he happened to see the name she had written on it, and before he could stop himself he let out a huffing laugh.

He went in the next morning, extremely relieved when it was again empty save for the older woman eating a bagel and typing away, her headphones keeping her isolated from the world.

The barista had her back to him, wiping down a machine, and called a greeting over her shoulder. He stood, hands in his pockets, and waited. When she got to a pausing point, she dropped the rag and stepped over to the register, finally looking up, a smile already on her face. “Good morning Grumpy!”

He raised an eyebrow, but she just shrugged. “You looked like you want to just burn everything down yesterday, so…Anyways, extra large black to go?”

Although he had every intention to make today a busy day, and should appreciate less chatter, he found himself mildly irked instead, and, examining it later, he realized he wanted her to feel off balance (not that she made him feel off balance, not at all).

“No, I’ll take it for here.”

She blinked at him, seemed to look up for a second, and then just smiled. “Okay, have a seat, I’ll bring it right out. Anything else for you?” When he shook his head, she continued “$1.75”. He again slid the money across the counter, and she picked it up.

Choosing a seat against the wall midway from the counter and door, he observed her. She was completely unremarkable, her hair a common mix of black and brown, and her eyes a simple black. She was completely average in her movements, her speech, and even the fact that she remembered his order was not that unusual if most days were super slow.

So why did she give him the exact opposite vibes? His scowl must have come back, because she had a teasing smile again on her face as he brought the coffee.

“Here you go, Grumpy.”

“Do you always find such unflattering nicknames for your customers?” He hadn’t meant to speak, but she paused and put a hand on a hip and looked down at him.

“Only when they don’t introduce themselves when they become a regular.”

Damn, he really didn’t have a reply for that. “You didn’t introduce yourself either, I thought that was part of your training?”

She actually giggled at that. “I don’t even wear a nametag, do you think they want the rest of this crazy city knowing my name just by looking? Stalker ville, population one.”

He felt a smirk coming and drank his coffee to curb it. “Fair enough.” It was a clear moment for her to exit, but she lingered. He blamed his time in the Victorian ages for his manner, because he said, “What is your name?”

“Cas—Cathy” she stammered.

He narrowed his eyes just the slightest and took another sip. He heard the door being pushed, and as she began her trip back to the register, he murmured, “John.” Judging by the smile on her face and the small glance she gave him before the new customer blocked the view, she had heard.

He told himself he didn’t care.

After that, he never got coffee to go. He didn’t go everyday, but if there wasn’t work to do and he wasn’t too beat up, he would make his way two blocks down to that little silver door with the faded red cup on it, and push it open, careful of the fact that it stuck.

It seemed like Cathy had a 6th sense for when he was going to show, because he would barely have gotten through the doorway before she was calling out hi and pouring a steaming cup of joe as he settled into “his” table.

If it wasn’t busy, and it very rarely was, they would talk.

The first time she plopped down at his table, he was taken aback, although he really should have seen it coming. She complained about being bored, and then asked what he was reading (his assignment glamoured to be a classic novel) and she smiled that cursed, teasing smile.

“I bet you just read that to look cool in public.”

“Yes, of course.” But inside, he didn’t like the fact that he liked that she thought he was cool.

A few weeks in, and she would have her own cup ready to sit next to him, and a daily paper on his table for them to share (In reality, she would read excepts she thought he needed to hear, while he drank his coffee and interjected whenever she missed the point. He was more than amused with the way she made it dramatic and silly, she loved that he felt the need to nitpick everything).

It hit him all at once that things were not okay because of a stupid clock.

Like every morning there wasn’t a mission to recover from, John had woken up and done his morning routine of shielding, followed by a work out. However, on his way out the door to bitter beans, he happened to glance at the clock beside the door and realize that it wasn’t even 430am yet. He always was done with his workout by 5, and out the door by 5:20.

Frowning, he paused, hand on the doorknob, and after a moment realized he had rushed through his routine like a schoolboy, skipping one part entirely.

Leaning his forehead against the door, he whispered a very emphatic “Bloody hell.”

He had grown attached to Cathy.

Like a little idiot, he had gotten into a routine that involved a mortal, and he was going to get her killed, like everyone else, if he got any further in. He didn’t know how Cathy, the average barista, of all people could have become someone he counted as a friend but…

“Of course you do, idiot.” Groaning, Pritkin rubbed his forehead. He was out of practice lying to himself. Cathy was nice, and fun, and always gave him an oversized mug but charged for a regular. He was an idiot.

And he couldn’t return there, ever again.

Opening the door, he made his way to headquarters. Their coffee sucked, but he would get used to it.

It was 7am, and Cathy’s replacement was due to arrive any moment. She looked around the dining room again, and Pritkin had not magically appeared in Bitter Beans. She bit her lower lip, and tried to think of an excuse to be alone so no one would worry when she cried.

#casskin #john pritkin #cassie palmer #my work #chanceverse fic #i'm so sorry if it sucks #and yes she brewed it extra strong for him

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miraculoushipping · 7 years

Text

My (very big) Bellarke fic tbr pile

These are fics I’ve found but haven’t read yet.. Probably because I got distracted by another fic. It’s been in my drafts for a while, because that’s where I keep it so I don’t lose them.. I don’t know why I just don’t bookmark them tbh. I just find this easier.. So I thought I might as well share it.

**edit: I was about to delete the ones that I’ve already read considering that it is, you know, a tbr pile but now that’s it out there might as well just use it as a fic rec thing.. SO. Uh.. The ones I’ve already read are gonna be marked since I still use this to keep track of the fics I still have to read. And I’ve added some more fics, yay!

10 Years On The Ground by crystalkei

Abby looking back at how Clarke has grown up, how she’s never grown back to being close to her daughter, and how she pretty much tries to blame everything on that flop Bellamy and his horrible hair.

a lightning in your eyes by flonkertons

the pedal's down, my eyes are closed

"You're the one with the Masters funding." He says it like he already knows, is already using it as the whole basis of her personality. "I'm Bellamy Blake."

"Nice to meet you," she lies through her teeth.

Clarke Griffin is the newest member of the Classical History Review and Bellamy Blake is at the bottom of her list of people to befriend. Well, she's been wrong before. AU.

we raise the fire

"Tell her what we have to play this year," he says, very seriously. He bows his head like he's in prayer.

Bellamy pauses for effect (he's so fucking dramatic all the time) and Clarke adds in a drumroll in her mind. "Dodgeball."

Clarke finds out the CHR has rivals. (Timestamp to the pedal's down, my eyes are closed, but can be read as a standalone.)

Aces by winterwaters

Stack The Deck

Modern AU: When Clarke’s dad visits, she asks her friend and next-door neighbor Bellamy to pretend he’s her boyfriend to get her dad off her back. Bellamy agrees, though maybe he takes to the “pretend” part of it a little too eagerly. Inspired by episode 4x09 of The Big Bang Theory (The Boyfriend Complexity) where Penny’s dad comes to visit and she asks Leonard to pretend. Title and a couple lines of dialogue are from the ep.

Show Your Cards

Modern AU: Bellamy accompanies Clarke to her cousin's wedding as her "boyfriend." The day ends up being more eventful than either expect.

Wild Card

Clarke can't imagine waiting even one more night now that she knows Bellamy Blake returns her affection. So what if they're at a family wedding?

Winning Hand

Bellamy finally gets to take Clarke on that date - and a hell of a lot more, as their relationship progresses.

All We Know Is Distance (we're close and then we run) by LayALioness

She feels nervous, which she knows is dumb. They’re her soulmate. Whatever she decides to write, they’ll understand. They’ll probably just be happy to get something.In the end, she chooses something easy. Simple. She draws three little green stars on her opposite hand, and then holds her breath and waits.

all roads lead home by morningstar

Twenty-four-year-old heiress Clarke is hiding out at the Blake farm. For the past few years, Clarke has eluded her gold-digger stepmother who’ll do anything to gain control of her and Griffin Steel. But just when Clarke thinks she’s safe, a private investigator is hot on her trail, and her luck is about to run out in more ways than one.

Bellamy Blake is fresh out of prison for a crime he didn’t commit, arrives to claim the house his grandmother left him, and finds a strange girl living there, all hell breaks loose. He’ll try his best to get her to leave, but he’s met his match.

Alone Together by tellthemstories

Clarke shows up at Bellamy’s apartment at exactly two minutes to midnight on a Thursday.

He's not sure how she ends up staying the night — or why he doesn't turn her away, when it happens again. And again.

An Ocean Between the Waves by dropshipheroes

"I love you, but I'm not sure I want to anymore."

Bellamy comes back and nothing is the same.

Arsonist's Lullabye by marauders_groupie

Because, and it’s funny how things turn out to be that way sometimes, Clarke Griffin is thirty years old, an accomplished medical professional who was set to marry her fiancé in a month, but the only thing she can remember as a moment of pure happiness in her whole life is scorching hot Virginia summer, being seventeen and lying on the hood of a bright red Mustang, holding hands with a boy who wore the same pained expression as she did, but there were flames in his eyes.

In which Clarke's life spirals downwards and she goes back to the town of Ark, just like she did when her father died thirteen years ago, because the town and one Bellamy Blake helped then and she's hoping they can help now.

Best Laid Plans by FrisianWanderer

Plan B Stands For Bellamy Blake

Throughout their final year of college, and even after they graduated, Clarke Griffin and Bellamy Blake were each other's beard, their saviour in case of unwelcome advances or a bad dating emergency. And it had worked perfectly.

Until now.

Plan C Stands For Clarke Griffin

Bellamy likes Clarke, but instead of dating her, he becomes her beard.

And it sucks..

Big Damn Regency AU by queenofchildren

Call it Patience, Call it Hope

With both parents passed away and a younger sister to support, Bellamy Blake may not have drawn the easiest lot in life. But he had a plan: Rise through the ranks of the Royal Navy, find a good husband for his sister, make Lieutenant or maybe even Captain, and keep sailing and fighting until he died at sea. What he had not planned for was suddenly inheriting a title, complete with lands and fortune.

Instead of simply trying to stay alive long enough to get Octavia settled comfortably, now he had to figure out how to run an estate, bring his sister out into society while protecting her from rakes and fortune hunters, and remember his manners around one stubborn, haughty, irresistible Lady Clarke Griffin, Daughter of the Earl of Arkton – and very soon the bane of his existence.

Could never love by halves

As promised: The wedding night from Call it Patience, Call it Hope in all its smutty glory. Since I could not resist adding an extended wedding night scene but did not want to raise the rating on Call it Patience, I made it a different work. Beware: lots of feelings. So many feelings. They are very much in love, it's actually a little sickening.

You should probably have read Call it Patience, Call it Hope before this.

Bloodstains and Innocence: A Clarke Griffin Mystery by HawthorneWhisperer

Police Chief Clarke Griffin knows three things:

1) Charles Pike is dead.

2) Octavia Blake is the prime suspect.

3) Bellamy Blake a giant pain in the ass with no business being involved in a murder investigation, and yet here he is, working the case alongside her.

A hurricane is approaching the sleepy little island of Arkadia, NC as evidence begins to mount against Octavia and Clarke wrestles with her increasingly complicated relationship with Bellamy, all while trying to answer one simple question:Who killed Charles Pike?

by the prospect of the touch, by the memory of the feel by tacosandflowers

We Are Undone by Each Other

“We hate each other.”He raised an eyebrow.

“Do we?”She sighed, “You know what I mean.

”Bellamy shook his head, his eyes on her mouth.

“I don’t know left from right when it comes to you these days, Griffin.”

Dr. Clarke Griffin is the lead biological anthropologist at L'Arche, one of the biggest upper Paleolithic archaeological sites in Europe. Every summer, she runs the excavations at L'Arche with her infuriating co-leader, lead archaeologist Dr. Bellamy Blake. They've been at each other's throats for years, and the 2015 field season looks like it's going to be one of their most combative yet, thanks to some things that changed the year before. Clarke is ready work hard for the success of the dig and ready to fight him at every turn if she must. But Bellamy is tired of fighting.

Undone: Companion Pieces

She rose from her chair and looked him up and down like she was sizing him up and deciding in her mind how much shit she would give him that summer. She propped one hand on her hip and cocked it out just so and it made him remember what a nightmare it was to have a total fox for a nemesis.

“Fine,” she said.

“It’s no secret that we dislike each other,” he started to say, but she cut him off with a low chuckle.

“That’s an understatement."

Dr. Bellamy Blake and Dr. Clarke Griffin run an archaeological site every summer, and they've been at each other's throats for years. This season, things are different. Bellamy is tired of fighting. A set of companion pieces--that has evolved into a full companion piece--to my other story, We Are Undone by Each Other, told from Bellamy's perspective.

Thirty-seven Days

She laughs, because now that she’s said it, it sounds kind of silly. “You’re the first... lover I’ve ever had in this apartment, okay?”

A smile spreads across his face. “That’s fine with me,” he says.

“It’s not that I haven’t had people in my life,” she continues, and his smile vanishes. She chuckles indulgently at him and slides her hand down to interlace her fingers with his. “Don’t be jealous, you know you’re the only one for me now.”

aka: Clarke has Bellamy over to her apartment for the first time and things get real. A response to some reader requests / an epilogue to We Are Undone by Each Other / Undone: Companion Pieces, at least one of which you should probably read first if you want this to make any sense.

Future Tense

"You're right,” Clarke says, and it doesn’t sound like she enjoys admitting it. “I haven't been in a relationship with anyone in a while. But I am now." She pulls her hand away to gesture towards him. "Let's try this again. This is Bellamy. He's my boyfriend. It's serious."

Abby's eyes fly to Bellamy, appraisingly. Great. These expectations are going to be really fun to live up to.

Clarke and Bellamy go back to her hometown so she can give a speech at the opening reception for Wells Jaha Hall, and Bellamy finally meets Abby Griffin. A continuation of the "We are Undone by Each Other" universe.

coastal waters by saem

They reach the ocean two years after they come back to Earth.

Some of the kids decide to stay with their parents, of course. But many of the Camp Jaha residents choose to come with them to the sea. All in all, when they arrive at the coast, the procession is 126 people strong.

Clarke stands on the weathered highway, the weight of the pack on her shoulders suddenly lighter, so much so that she might float away. There’s a beach in front of the road, and beyond that, the ocean is an immense wall of blue.

(Clarke used to live in space, but somehow the ocean looks bigger than the cosmos ever did.)

Dawn by ihidemycrazy

When the snobbish Clarke Griffin moves in upstairs, Bellamy's pretty sure they aren't going to be friends. But with Octavia and Lincoln spending more and more time together, it looks like Bellamy and Clarke might just have to learn how to get along.

Aka the Bellarke Pride and Prejudice AU that no one asked for!

face it, tiger by hai_mae*

All Monty and Jasper have ever wanted was to become famous comic book writers. They have the talent, but they just can't manage to come up with any ideas that... well. Don't suck. But then they stumble across Coffee Grounders, where all the baristas and regulars are ridiculously, painfully attractive-- especially Clarke and Bellamy, who spend as much time staring wistfully at each other as they do screaming about who makes a better cappuccino. And Monty and Jasper should probably ask their permission before they use them as characters in their new webcomic, but hey. They figure it won't be a big deal.

(It becomes a big deal.)

In which Monty becomes one of the creators of the year's best new webcomic, drinks a lot of chai tea lattes, and falls hopelessly, pathetically in love with that one sullen barista who always wears a beanie.

Five Years by joeyjwitter

The three times the five years age difference between Bellamy and Clarke changes things and the one time it doesn't.

Hope You Raise Your Cup (When That Sun Goes Down) by jollyrogerjayhawk

Bellamy and Clarke have been together since the Day Trip. Now they are finally reuniting and moving forward in multiple ways after Mount Weather. OneYearofThe100 Fic Week Collection.

I Have Never Known Colour (like this morning reveals to me) by Pammcasso

The World is Brighter Than The Sun Now That You’re Here

The World is Brighter than The Sun Now That You’re Here (though your eyes will need some time to adjust)

As a child, Clarke liked to refer to someone's colour-match as their soulmate. For months she would talk loudly about how she couldn't wait to meet them... But that was a long time ago. Reality is more complicated.

Colour sure is pretty though.

Black or White or Vivid Colour (after a while it all runs together)

Continuation of World is Brighter Than the Sun 'verse, where the world is in black and white until you're in proximity to your soulmate. In the aftermath of the destruction of the Mountain, Arkadia is trying to find its feet, political tension simmers in Polis, and colour-matches remain more trouble than they're worth.Meanwhile, some witch called Alie claims to have a cure for colour blindness.

I held you like it was nothing (it was something) by 9crimes

4 times Bellamy and Clarke get caught, and 1 time they don't

I Threw Stones at the Stars (but the Whole Sky Fell) by somethingofatrainwreck

Everything about them had a steady pace: a couple hundred tiny steps and then one big leap, like the way the wind would blow against a door that never closed all the way, little by little until eventually it flew open all at once. Or the story of how two walking disasters gradually stumble into something beautiful.

Now with an alternate ending

In Words And Pictures by lettertoelise

It was something Clarke had never really thought much about, the stray marks of ink or paint that would appear on her body - the ones she had no recollection of putting there - the ones that took days to fade.She hadn’t made the connection until she woke one morning with a black eye and purple marks stretching across her torso, the words - Stop drawing on me - blaze across her forearm. Soulmate au where when you write something on your skin with pen/marker/whatever the hell you want, it will show up on your soul mates skin as well.

It Was Always You by Willaphyx

Inspired by a prompt on Tumblr: "We got involved in a fight at a bar and had to spend the night sharing a cell AU".

Octavia and Raven take Clarke out for a bit of fun. Clarke ends up punching a random stranger in the face, only to find out the next morning (after sharing a cell with him for the night) that he's Octavia's older brother who's in town for the foreseeable future as a visiting professor at the local university.

I've Fallen Out Of Favor (I've Fallen From Grace) by alienor_woods

“So that’s it. You led an army to Mount Weather for our friends and now you’re just gonna sit back let the Council decide everything else without even hearing what they want to do?”

"I'm done deciding who lives and who dies."

[Speculative post-S2 finale fic; Canon compliant through "Bodyguard of Lies."]

Just Like the Kids in Art School Said They Would by LayALioness

Raven gives them each a raised brow in turn. “So is this going to be a thing, now?”

Clarke and Bellamy share a look. It’s unclear what thing Raven’s referencing specifically; them, giggling over inappropriate jokes about Greek myths? Drinking coffee from cereal bowls? Clarke’s ridiculous sweatshirt? It’s not really very clear.

“Definitely,” Bellamy decides with a grin, and Clarke grins back because yeah, they might be friends now.

Or, Clarke moves into a co-op, and Bellamy steals all their food.

Lines in the Sand by AshVee

The ARC has fallen. Mount Weather is behind them. Clarke is about to find out that sometimes, you have to draw a line in the sand, no matter how much you care about those on the other side.

long day by crookedqueen

bellamy + clarke as co-dependent, twenty-something roommates (or, the one in which they’re dating already but don’t know it, and bellamy only realizes he has a heart when it breaks)

Lovely, Dark, and Deep by lordmxrphy

Bellamy and Clarke grow up together in Arksmouth, a village cowering in the shadow of a wolf. The wolf is only kept at bay by monthly sacrifices of the town’s livestock on the full moon. When the wolf murders Harper, Clarke’s sister, killing for the first time in 20 years, Clarke is caught in the middle of a wolf hunt. Who can she trust when even Bellamy, her best friend and the man she’s fallen in love with, could be the wolf?

Me Without You by rebelqueen

Begins after Season 2 (we are going to pretend for a moment Season 3 never happened for a moment).

After Clarke runs off after the events at Mount Weather, Bellamy spends months looking for her. When he finally finds her, she has lost all memory of the past two years. She doesn't remember coming down to Earth, but more importantly she doesn't remember Bellamy. Will Bellamy be able to handle losing her one more time? Will he be able to get his Clarke back, or is she gone forever?

No Other Explanation by NikeCastle

“Slytherin Princess.” He mouthed with an off-kilter smile that read more like a sneer.

Being a Slytherin meant being powerful, being ambitious, holding court. And that’s just what Clarke did with a smile just as serpentine as the rest.

“You want a Slytherin Princess?” She mouthed clearly at Bellamy half-way through the meal. “You have one.”

---

Three times Clarke Griffin denied she was falling in love with a Gryffindor, and one time where she accepted that she’d already fallen.

patient heart by glowinghorizons

“Going to stick around for more than a week this time?” He asks, his tone biting, and she winces.

“Bellamy--”

“O said you were alone. Gonna be hard for you to fix up that house without your Mom’s money.”

Clarke feels his words like a physical blow. Normally she would snap right back at him, accuse him of being a townie like she would have if she were still sixteen, but her wounds are too fresh, her heart too broken. She forces a smile. “Good to know you haven’t changed a bit, Bellamy. Still an asshole.”

His eyes flash. “That’s rich, coming from you.” She sees hurt there in his eyes, buried under ten years of distance between them, and she looks away.

“Well, as fun as this has been, I’m going to go.”

“Running away was always your specialty.” His words just barely reach her as she walks away, and she heads down the street quickly, before she feels the first tear fall.

OR;

Clarke spends summers in Arkadia in the beach house down the street from the Blakes. It's been 10 years since she left without a word.

Pistols at Dawn by queenofchildren

Bellamy Blake's political star is on the rise, until his opponents throw some dirt that sticks. So he calls in an expert: Clarke Griffin, professional crisis manager, has helped many a powerful person weather outrageous scandals with her team.

But Clarke has no idea that saving Bellamy Blake will unearth secrets that should have stayed buried – and change both their lives forever.

Poisoned Crown by FelicisQuill2

“Fine," he breathes out. "I want you. But I shouldn't, and you don't feel . . . we're . . . Damn it! I told you to come home with me, Clarke. What did you think that meant?" He throws it out into the space between us that’s lit only by hazy yellow emergency floor lights.

I’m pretty sure I stop breathing.

He takes a few steps closer to the rover.

“I know," I nod softly. "I'm sorry. But I'm not going to leave you, ever again. I swear to you. I promise," I say firmly. "If you want me, I’m right here."

“The price is too high. We don't even know if we're going to live. But I want you to have the best chance to survive. You need to get on a lifeboat and let me go, Clarke.”

~~~~~~

The Council decides to relocate the Sky People to a safe zone. But there aren't enough lifeboats for everyone. Bellamy convinces himself he doesn't deserve to start a new life after everything he's done. Clarke refuses to leave without him.

Pour Me Another by Shippershape

“Isn’t your job to get me drunk, not to sober me up?”

“My job is to take care of customers,” he replies dryly. “Besides, I’m legally responsible for making sure you don’t get wasted here and go wreak havoc in the streets.”

Clarke has a bad day, and tells her bartender all about it. She assumes she'll never have to see him again, but you know what they say about assumptions. Some of the tags refer to later chapters.

run off in the night by SmoakScreen (midwestwind)

i don't wanna live like this. (i don't wanna die.)

When Clarke packed up in the middle of the night and took off in her dad’s SUV, she wasn’t really sure what she was trying to find but the hitchhikers - a friendly outspoken girl and her mildly unnerving brother - she picks up certainly weren’t it.

know that i've been wicked. (the road to hell is wide.)

Bellamy just wanted to move across the country with his sister, okay? He didn't ask for all of this drama Clarke Griffin brings to the table.Except he kind of likes it.A sequel to i don't wanna live like this. (i don't wanna die.) from Bellamy's point of view.

Say You'll Remember Me by Willaphyx

Clarke wasn't expecting to find romance on her family's annual summer escape to Kennebunkport, Maine. But then, she also wasn't expecting Bellamy Blake.

Or a summer romance AU loosely inspired by Taylor Swift's Wildest Dreams.

Show Me What I'm Looking For by bitscrawford

The surviving delinquents are sitting around the dropship, knees pulled to their chests, heads buried between their knees. Clarke can’t blame them for looking so weary, really. They’re too young to have just fought a battle, too young to know war so personally, too young to live with the fact that they just finished incinerating hundreds of grounders, hundreds of people.

Death is everywhere on the ground; it’s unavoidable. It’s remarkable that so many of them had survived for this long.

Canon compliant through Season 1, but Monty never went missing, the Mountain Men never showed up, and the Ark never came down.

Sing the Rage of Peleus' Son Achilles by viansian

"I have spent my entire life afraid of men thought to be gods," he finally says. "I'll tell you a secret, princess: these men? The ones who claim to be deities? Their blood isn't ichor. They bleed red like the rest of us, and sometimes they need to be reminded of that."

Slow It Down by monroeslittle

It was strong, making her eyes water, and that was when she noticed that she’d drawn attention from a guy three stools down. “It tastes like gasoline with vague cranberry essence,” she explained, and his lips quirked up in amusement. “I’m Clarke,” she added.

"Bellamy," he said.

modern AU, a one-night stands results in a little surprise.

Something To Hold Onto by crystalkei

A 100 Big Bang fic!Clarke has been walking for three days trying to come to terms with her decisions and how to live with the person she’s become after everything that’s happened in Mount Weather. Bellamy finds her and offers a field trip if she wants in. Travel 250 miles to where another section of the Ark fell to collect a part Raven needs.

“Should take, what, a week to walk that far? If we don’t have any problems?” she asked and she watched Bellamy as he tried not to smile. He knew he had her.

Just pretend it’s a two week long Day Trip! With a found polaroid camera, an old man who swears a lot, a sexy library, and a good old fashion kidnapping by fanatics!

Suddenly I Sea by adventursplorer

On the Island of Terra, Clarke has gotten as job at the ARK Labs as a Marine Biologist. She's decidedly moved there away from her mother who she can't stand, to then months later meet Bellamy Blake the new Environmental Scientist.

He comes a few months after she has, uncovering her darkest memories and secrets in only days of knowing her. Clarke wonders how she trusts this guy so much with such little time from them meeting, but yet she still tells him.

Take Me By The Hand by HawthorneWhisperer

When Clarke Griffin summoned you, you answered. Bellamy's previous employment at Griffin Industries had been marked by constant, unceasing arguments with her, back when she was just a lowly division manager and he was her second-in-command, to the point where most of the staff would put money on what would cause their next blowout (Monroe once thanked him for picking a fight over a vendor, as that apparently paid her cable bill for the month). Still, they had an unmarred record of the best numbers in the entire company for three years running. If she was offering him a job, it was probably worth his while to leave work early and see what she had in mind.

“Good to see you,” Clarke said and clicked the door shut behind her. But rather than walk behind her desk she perched against it, her hands resting on either side. The sun was setting behind her and damn, he’d forgotten how pretty she was. Her hair was flowing down to her shoulders and her light blue blouse was open just one button too far. She took a deep breath and looked him straight in the eye. “There’s no good way to say this. I need you to marry me.”

(Bellarke Fake Marriage AU featuring the usual amounts of contrivances, angst, and smut.)

Take Some of Mine by Zovrin

The adults will not allow two teenagers to rule. A siege could turn into an assassination plot. Can Clarke and Bellamy survive it? Who wants them dead? What will happen to the 100 after Mount Weather? Follows the TV series through episode 2x09. Bellarke is the most focused relationship. I've changed the rating to mature because of chapter 12, it's basically teen before then.

Talk Nerdy To Me by jaegermighty*

"I would’ve gone to bat for you," Bellamy says, "if it’d gone the other way." (bellamy's a professor. clarke digs it. nerdy sex verse.)

Tell Me Where You've Been Lately by LayALioness

BELLAMY: Don’t freak out.

CLARKE: that sentence is always guaranteed to freak me out fyi CLARKE: why am i not freaking?

BELLAMY: I didn’t get a cat.

CLARKE: you seem to be under the impression that a pet cat is necessary for my happiness. the cat was your idea, i don’t care if you don’t get one. although i did come up with some truly awesome cat names while you were gone.

BELLAMY: I got a dog instead.

CLARKE: what.

BELLAMY: I got a dog. A puppy actually. She’s cute. What were the cat names?

CLARKE: bellamy you were supposed to get a cat.

BELLAMY: Sorry, can’t text and drive. See you in a bit!

CLARKE: bELLAMY

The 100: Down to Earth series by adventursplorer

Down to Earth

A 'The 100' story --- It's the 100 and they've just arrived down on Earth, the Princess Clarke Griffin and the rebel Bellamy Blake have to work together as leaders to try and help the 100 survive Earth and it's inhabitants. Will the leaders relationship continue to blossom, or will they tear the 100 apart?

Solid Ground

A 'The 100' story - Sequel to Down to Earth --- The ark has come down. Kane and Abby are trying to impose order to their new lives without a chancellor. Clarke is doing everything in her power to break free of the grasps of the mountain men to get outside and find Bellamy and the rest of her people. Bellamy and Jones encounter an old enemy and they all try to find a way to save the captured 100. There's only one problem, who has taken them?

The Art of Kissing by Rumaan

Monty Green's film project aims to capture first kisses. Bellamy is manipulated into signing up and Clarke is determined to prove that she is fun.

The Beat My Heart Skips by thearkdelinquents

“You just got beer all over our tent. That I have to sleep in for the next four days.” Clarke said, gesturing towards the now-wet tent and raising an eyebrow at him.

“Hey, you could always come stay in ours.” Bellamy winked at her as Jasper snorted and clapped him on the back.

“Or you could always pull your head out of your ass and watch where you’re going,” she fired back, staring him down.

Bellamy grinned at her as he sensed the challenge. It was going to be a long four days.

The Bellarke Music Festival AU I've been wanting to write forever.

The Horizon Lies Ahead by fawna

The first time Bellamy met Clarke she had a gun in her hand and blood on her face. The first time Clarke met Bellamy he had a gun to his forehead and fear in his eyes.

Or when Bellamy Blake and Clarke Griffin become partners in a zombie apocalypse.

The House Guest by Shippershape

Clarke loves her best friend, so when Octavia's brother needs a place to stay, Clarke doesn't think twice about offering up her loft. It's no trouble at all, that is until Clarke realizes what a surly, arrogant prick he is. When a few days turns into a few weeks it's too late to back out, and now she finds herself stuck with an unwelcome roommate.

PART 2 (Ch. 20-27): The second half of this story deals with some darker content. Someone from Clarke's past comes back to haunt her, and neither she nor Bellamy realize that there's something more sinister standing between them and their possible reconciliation than either of them could have predicted.

The Most Dangerous Word by clarkescrusade (alindy)

"Clarke’s laughter pushed Monty forward and gave him, despite him knowing that this word was the most dangerous of them all, the littlest bit of hope."

The Odds Are Good by tacosandflowers

He looks down at her and it's kind of too much, the wine and the emotions of the day coming down on her all at once, and there's something there in the depths of his eyes that's knocking on a door she keeps shut inside. So she buries her face against his upper chest and rests her cheek against him. She can feel his breath against her hair and she can smell his clean, masculine scent and feel the texture of his clean-shaven jawline if she moves her head just so.

His arms tighten around her and she feels like this is the physical manifestation of how they make each other feel safe, the way they'd talked about the night after she'd stitched him up. The way they fit perfectly together, balancing each other as they lean into one another and just hold on through the song

.**

Clarke Griffin has whitewater in her blood, and nobody knows the river better than Bellamy Blake. She's intrigued.

The whitewater kayaking AU that nobody asked for.

The Rebel Series by adventursplorer

Rebel

My name is Clarke Griffin. I am of the Sea Clan. I am the daughter of the vice leader of my clan, Abby Griffin, who is second to our leader Diana Sydney.

Our enemy clan is the North Forest Clan (or just the Forest Clan), always wanting to steal our land to gain territory for themselves. Their absolute insane savage of a leader will not give up on trying taking our territory. His name is Thelonious Jaha and ever since the death of his son, he has not been right in the head.

His second however, is saner than he is, but still will kill someone without a second of doubt. He goes by the name Bellamy Blake.

***** I am Bellamy Blake, Second of the Forest Clan and I hate it. I hate my life, I hate my leader, and I hate my position. I have to kill people on the command of my leader, and if I don't, I lose the only thing in my life I don't hate and the only I care about. My little sister, Octavia.

Well she may not be little anymore, but she will always be my most precious gem and will always be my little sister.

I am also secretly known as the Rebel King.

The Fallen

As Dante Wallace, leader of The Ship which rotates around the Earth, takes his last few breaths, he sees an illegal dropship being launched from the dropship station. As his eyes grow heavy and his vision darkens around the edges, his dying wish is that who ever was on that ship survived and continued what he thought was the last of the human race on Earth.

Seven friends and two stowaways make their way down to Earth, crash landing just off the coast in the Pacific Ocean. They find an island, but will their new life down on Earth be as happy as they thought it would be, or did they just land in a new hell. Friendship, love and trust will be tested which could potentially have serious consequences.

Could the nine all survive the perilous drop? Could they survive each other?

The Secrets We Don’t Keep by shadowglove

...Or the one in which Clarke thinks she's kept the fact that she's pregnant (and that Bellamy is the father) a secret, but she really hasn't.

the world was born in smoke and fire (and so were we) by forgivenessishardforus

The crown rests heavy on top of his head, eight pounds of gold encrusted with emeralds and rubies and a thousand tons of responsibility and duty. He can feel its edge digging painfully into the skin of his forehead, can already sense some of his curls getting hopelessly tangled around the prongs. He forces himself to hold still, understanding the importance and uniqueness of this moment.

He is the first ever king not descended from royal blood. The first king to usurp the previous before his death, and banish him for crimes of inhumanity performed against his people. He is twenty-two years old, and the streets whisper his name.

“Bellamy Blake,” Marcus Kane, his mentor and first advisor, intones, “King of Polis, Lord of the Stars and Protector of the Earth, you may rise.”

Through the Wire (Up in Flames) by flonkertons

Clarke had planned on spending her summer break sleeping in until noon, catching up on the last season of Bakeoff, and maybe flirting with Bellamy Blake. But when Monty asks her to investigate a fire at the bakery, she and Bellamy are drawn into a plan to destroy a bakery, and if they're not careful, the two of them as well.

Thunderstorms Instead of Blood by marauders_groupie

A Bellarke car racing AU.

It goes like this:

Nothing in the world except for the two of them. Haphazardly thrown smirks, the smell of gasoline and burning rubber. A 1974 Pontiac Firebird – phoenix rising from the ashes of the asphalt. An electric blue 1969 Camaro whose electricity coils up the air, overflowing with tension.

Nothing in the world except for Bellamy and Clarke, their cars and a vast racetrack in front of them that feels like a promise of victory.

Gasoline has always tasted better than water and their hearts don’t beat – they thrum in rhythm to their engines.

That’s the way it has always been. That’s the way it always will be. Go out in a pyre of glory or don’t come at all.

To Kill A King by nighimpossible*

Bellamy is an lowborn orphan daring to dream bigger than his meager beginnings, and Clarke is a princess engaged to be married to the prince of the Jaha Kingdom. In a land where corruption and greed rule both the castle and the city streets, both Bellamy and Clarke will learn the true cost of what it takes to kill a king.

Together by winterwaters

Tumblr prompt from rashaka: Clarke is having an argument (mom? murphy? jaha?) that gets really shout-y. She's storming out when she says "And another thing!" then grabs Bellamy (standing nearby watching), kisses him hard in front of the whole room, then lets him go and barges out.

~~~~ AU after 2x08, where Jaha is chancellor again on Earth.

Unlikely Alliance by rebelqueen

Clarke starts her first year of college at her mom's Alma Mater, where she is accepted as a legacy into Zeta Beta Theta. The only thing driving her more insane than the copious amounts of glitter and smiling is the president of Omega Kappa Phi, Bellamy Blake.

when the first bombs fell we were already bored by kindclaws

Rangers Clarke Griffin and Wells Jaha are drift-compatible but refuse to pilot together. When Kane pressures them to find a solution, Raven Reyes and Bellamy Blake step up to the challenge. The months that follow are a whirlwind of Kaiju, media speculation, and quiet moments between battles that let unexpected partnerships grow. In the aftermath of the apocalypse, everyone wonders who piloted the very last Jaeger. The ones who know, aren’t telling.

(Literally a mixed media fic. Don't try reading it on mobile I'm pretty sure it'll crash and burn.)

when lightning strikes marble by kindclaws

All the best stories in Bellamy's childhood began late into the night, by the orange glow of a dying candle as his mother finally put her sewing away and pulled him and Octavia close, her voice dropping to a dramatic whisper as she would say 'Once upon a time, in a beautiful kingdom just like our Arkadia...

'He never imagined he'd be living one of those legends, fraught with danger and magic, the prophesies of spectres, heartbroken dragons, and a certain blonde sorcereress with a knack for getting under his skin.

Where The Lines Overlap by goldenheadfreckledheart

Anon prompt: Modern day college AU where things got mixed up and Clarke and Bellamy get set as roommates. They hate each other at first, but kind of grow on each other.

You Are The Girl That I’ve Been Dreaming Of by wafflesofdoom

bellamy blake had one golden rule - don't fall in love (and never make a girl breakfast). then, he gets accidentally gets elected student council president alongside clarke griffin (long story), and they sort of maybe become friends, and his entire world gets shaken up.he was in trouble, and she was the cause of it all. though, her doucheface of a boyfriend didn't exactly help matters, either.

you better listen to the cat by MercuryM

“How exactly did you two get to know each other again?”

“Tinder.” Wells didn’t look all that satisfied and Bellamy elaborated. “My uh, cat, swiped right on Clarke’s profile and well, the rest is history.”

“What?” Clarke turned around to face him and Bellamy was pinned under her narrowed gaze. “You didn’t tell me about that.”

“What was I supposed to say? ‘Oh hey, my cat was playing around with my phone and she got us matched, but no worries, I think she has good taste.’”

You’re a princess and I’m your lionheart by Pepperish

Prompt: Bellarke Hogwarts!AU

It was hate at first sight.

She was an impressionable eleven-year old girl – filled with the appropriate barely-contained excitement and bubbling joy that comes with being a first year – who had just been told Gryffindors are evil. Ok, maybe she was told they were “self-entitled pricks with a fucking hero-in-shiny-armour complex”, but, as smart as Clarke was, she was not sure she got the proper meaning of it.

Of course, Clarke didn’t quite believe it at first – how could a whole house be evil? An esteemed Hogwarts house no less? Her father’s house -, but maybe now she was starting to understand.

The realization hit her in the form of Bellamy Blake.

(Or Bellamy and Clarke meet in Hogwarts and end up leading the resistance against Lord Wallace together. The hundredth Hogwarts!AU no one asked for)

You're My Joy, Always Remember Me by takemehome21

Clarke goes to Dublin to propose to her boyfriend on Leap Day. When her plan gets a bit off track the last person she expects to run into is Bellamy, her childhood best friend, whom she hasn’t spoken to in six years. And she definitely doesn’t count on him offering to take her to Dublin.

Leap Year AU

I’ve already read these but I wanted all of you to suffer as I have suffered:

Where's My Love series by insideimfeelindirty and These Words Are My Own by dirtytrix

*needs an ao3 account

#the 100 #bellarke #fanfiction #bellarke fics #fic rec #of sorts #tbr pile #long post #like #seriously #it got so long #how did i not notice #all the fics are complete #the individual ones anyway #some of the series are unfinished

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