#and ofc i had to put my signature hair sparkles in there | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

borea-liss · 3 years

Text

Chapter One

⇨ Dragonborn!Todoroki x Tribe Chief Descendant!Reader

⇨ An AU in which Reader is apart of a tribe that lives to fight against a mythical group they call the Ice Dragons. One day, the Reader’s tribe fellows bring in a young man - an alleged Dragonborn, descended from their worst enemy. The young chief in line, whose heart is too compassionate to kill an innocent, convinces the raging tribe to keep him alive for research purposes, while they set out to free the captive, but the story turns out to be much more complicated than what they thought it would be...

⇨ Reader’s Quirk: Groundbreaker - the ability to bend and manipulate earth and rock in all of their varieties (think Earthbending). The Quirk’s drawback is incredible soreness and temporary muscle paralysis after prolonged usage.

Disclaimer: Characters are all aged up. The story doesn't follow the exact plot of the manga/anime, although it has some elements incorporated (ofc, it's fanfiction)

Taglist: @fukyouthink @midnighttflowers

Thank you for expressing interest in my story!

"A long, long time ago, our lands were roamed by enormous creatures, scaled and glistening like fresh snow, cold as death and breathing frost. Nobody knows where they came from, but they were ruthless, bringing eternal winter wherever they went. Our kind was starving, slowly freezing to death, too small and weak to chase away the Ice Dragons," multiple pairs of doe eyes, brimmed with curiosity, stalked your hands moving over the fire, dark shadows dancing upon the walls of your enormous tent. "That was until a man that could wield fire came along. His flame was bright and carried hope, sparking the will to fight in the hearts of men and women. He gathered the best fighters and fought the Ice Dragons, bringing them to the brink of extinction. This era of peace and prosperity we owe to him."

You adjusted the Scroll of Myths in your lap, "Or so the legends tell."

"(Name)-nee, are the Dragons going to hurt us?"

"No, sweet little Eri!" you cradled the little girl's head close to your chest. "I don't believe they're evil. Stories need villains and they were victims of circumstances. They're not going to hurt you."

She gave you all her attention, tiny hands firmly grasping the front of your robe.

"Besides, they've been gone for decades." you smoothed her hair back and pressed a kiss to the little horn on the side of her forehead. "Many believe Chief councils Todoroki and Yagi have driven the last of them away. Only time could tell."

Eri was still cradled in your arms as you stood up, ushering the other kids to follow you. "And right now I'm convinced time tells me you little doves should be in your beds. Let's go."

After the kids were tucked away and knocked out like a light, you returned to put away your scrolls, only to find your best friends Midoriya and Uraraka grinning like idiots.

"Ah, did you clean up for me?"

"Yeah, no big deal!" Uraraka placed a cup of steaming hot tea in your hands. "You put the kids to bed so I thought it'd be nice to do this instead. Do you wanna come stargazing with us?"

You sipped your drink, pretending to be deep in thought. Uraraka's expression was slowly shifting to one of disappointment and you couldn't help but crack a grin, "Of course I'm coming! But it's gotta be quick. You two are on hunting duty tomorrow and I have matters to discuss with the council."

Midoriya wiggled his green eyebrows at you. "But of course, fellow chief council successor. We absolutely can not fall off behind your schedule, hurr durr- Uck!"

"DEKU, ARE YOU OKAY??"

"Next time, drink your tea with more caution instead of taunting my habits, Izuku," you gave him a strong slap on the back. "Let's go."

"Oi, dumbass, think you can land me a hand?"

"It's (Name), not dumbass, Katsuki," you angled the movement of your foot, protruding a rock with your Quirk. The surprised yelp was enough to tell you had hit Bakugou's shin successfully. "We've been friends for 16 years, c'mon now."

"Yea, yea, fine, just stop bruising me with your rocky shit, you're like Kirishima in a way- OW OW OW OKAY STOP IT!!"

You merely rolled your eyes at his yells, instead taking the scroll from his hands.

"So what they want us to do is build a ramp for a new training area," you rolled the sketch and put it away.

"Precisely, Chief Aizawa said it needs to be done by tomorrow." Bakugou looked over the flat terrain. "I suggest we split the work, you do the ramp with your Quirk and I'll arrange the dummies. Kaminari and Yaoyorozu will do the rest."

"On it, boss. Shouldn't take long."

After half an hour you proudly stood in front of a large arena resembling an octagon shape. Bakugou nodded in approval and wordlessly dismissed you, already preparing to nail down the sparring dummies.

As you judged by the position of the sun, the hunters should be returning in a bit over an hour, which gave you plenty of time before lunch to pick up the new book Chief Aizawa gave you several nights ago. He promised there was plenty of information about the Dragons, even accompanied by illustrations and schemes.

Well, he certainly wasn't wrong, you thought, sparkling orbs peering down at the worn-out pages. Frankly, you didn't know when your fascination with the Ice Dragons began. When you were little and the Chiefs told you legends around the campfire, you thought you'd get to see a real dragon when you grow up. There wasn't much known about them after the first fire-yielder, Todoroki someone allegedly drove away the creatures. His descendant and a current Chief of the Tribe Council, Todoroki Enji, along with another Chief, were supposed to have defeated the last few Ice Dragons.

It saddened you - never getting to observe their habits, learn about them, and document their existence for future generations. All they'd get would be from legends and the book you were currently flipping through - the only one describing the Ice Dragons in-depth - or at least as much as possible.

Your right hand froze as the last page you turned settled down with a quiet rustle. "Dragonborns?"

Now that was something you had never seen before. The section of the book depicted images of humans with skin partially covered in scales. Straight white locks cascaded over their shoulders and you shuddered at the piercing gray eyes that stared back at you from the pages. The script said it was possible for Ice Dragons to acquire a human form and if they made love to a human, hybrids could be born. They inherited the ice powers of their scaled parents and the form of their human ones.

You couldn't wait to tell your friends about this.

"Incredible!" Yaoyorozu Momo exclaimed, her spoon clattering on the table. You had just finished explaining your discovery to those gathered for lunch.

Uraraka and Midoriya weren't back from hunting yet, but you couldn't wait for their return and then tell everyone about the book.

"Incredible indeed! I would've never imagined an Ice Dragon and a human can be together. The Dragonborn are resistant to extreme cold, most winter illnesses, and frostbites, but their bodies are fragile when near fire. Also-"

The horn announcing the hunting team's return cut you off abruptly. As you were about to resume, yells and shouts gathered everyone's attention. Glances were exchanged between the people on your table and in no time you were on the move to find out what was happening.

Near the Tribe Council tent, several people were gathered in a circle, hiding from sight whatever was in the middle. You quickly recognized Midoriya's signature green hair and elbowed yourself a place next to him.

"Deku, what's all this commotion about-"

"Scales!!" Mina shouted and you snapped your head in her direction.

Kneeling in front of you was a young man around your age. His hair was split in the middle, half red and half pure white. He seemed tattered and had no shirt on, iron chains shackled around his wrists. Iridescent scales covering his shoulders, parts of his back, and as much as you could see from his wrists. Frost was beginning to form on the links of the chains and you couldn't help but yell when the facts clicked inside your head.

The sound made the unknown guy avert his head to you, heterochromatic eyes piercing through your own. One was a sparkling turquoise, and for some reason, he had a huge scar over the left side of his face, but the other eye resembled a glassy gray, just like the ones you had studied earlier.

The most prominent features of a Dragonborn.

oh whew, this took a bit to write. i have the whole fic mapped out - but it took me three days to come up with a starting chapter. dumb.

i hope you enjoyed reading as much as i enjoyed writing this!

word count: 1,030

#todoroki shouto #todoroki x reader #shoto x reader #todoroki x you #todoroki x y/n #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki shoto #bnha imagines #bnha shoto todoroki #bnha shoto x reader #mha todoroki #mha fic #bnha x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki fanfic #bnha fanfiction

55 notes · View notes

xbellaxcarolinax · 4 years

Text

Forging A Heart (Ivar the Boneless) 23- Silver Fox

Pairing: Ivar x Artemis (OFC)

Word Count: 6235

Warnings: Some violence.

AN: Kinda long, kinda boring, not my favorite chapter 😅

22- Queen

...

Artemis runs a hand over the smooth wood of her throne, the very one Lagertha sat in and Aslaug before her. It was hard to even call it hers.

The wood was buffed to a shine and draped in fine fabrics and warm bear fur, enhancing its regal image. The night of their wedding went by in such a haze that she didn't pay much mind to her surroundings. It was loud then, full of merry making and fascinating stories. Now it was empty, quiet, and incredibly large. The thrones were slightly elevated, sure to remind those of their place.

The current Queen stands to face the authoritative seat, imagining the women who have sat there before her. She was born a commoner and it was a part of her that would never wash away, and she wondered if she was worthy of such a powerful seat. She stood a while longer, her fingertips brushing through the soft fur.

"It is meant for you to sit on, my love." Ivar's teasing voice resonated in the hall, and it was enough for her to snap away from her thoughts in favor of glancing at her husband, his eyes filled with mirth. He speaks through the leather curtain, sly as a cat ready to pounce on its prey.

"I know that." She huffs out, turning round with a swirl of her skirts. She plops down onto the throne to prove it.

"You are such a pensive woman," He says to her, limping over to place a kiss to her brow, "What plagues your mind at this hour, hmm?"

"The usual." She says, and Ivar raises a brow, already knowing what she meant. She was questioning her position, unconfident in her royal elevation. Despite her unassuredness, she did well to be studious in the running of a household and other queenly duties, but it was not enough for her. Ivar understood the lack of confidence, but as his wife, she had to push all that aside and reflect the image of a strong queen. He knew she would be.

Artemis smiled at him, but focused on the subtle movements in the hall. She was so intune with her thoughts that she barely noticed anyone else. A new fire was being stoked by a thrall, while the others hurried about with a task at hand. One dusted about, while another threw more wooden logs into the fire pit. Geirdis was to care with the feeding of the kittens and the mastiff, and the other two were to help Edda and the rest in the kitchens as well as setting up the table for the morning meal.

She was well acquainted with some of the thralls. Others were new and she was sure to remember all their names, to remember their jobs and to remember to thank them, always. The concept was strange, as slaves were never a part of her household back home.

"How may I ease your mind? Breakfast?" Ivar cuts into her thoughts, raising his eyebrows at her, "Those strawberries you like have been freshly harvested this morning." The mention of the strawberries had her up in an instant, grabbing Ivar's awaiting hand so that they may walk over to the large table set up completely with food and drink.

"I have another surprise for you," Ivar says, and it was almost enough for Artemis to crush the berry in her hand unforgivably.

"Another? Ivar must you spoil me so?" She had enough material items to last her more than a lifetime.

"Hush now," He teases, motioning at the thrall pouring his drink, "Tell Geirdis to bring the girl out." A few short moments later and Geirdis appears with Aria only steps behind her. The blond thrall stands behind her queen, and Artemis almost shoots out from her seat.

"I am at your service, my Queen." Aria's long red hair spills over her shoulders as she bows before Artemis. The Queen had confusion etched all over her face, turning to look at Ivar who bore his signature smirk.

"What is this?" She asks "I thought you were to leave with Jarl Erik? We've said our farewells only last night."

"I've purchased her," Ivar interjects, "You may keep her as your help or you may set her free. Do with her as you see fit." Artemis looks at him with sparkling eyes and he just laughs, holding a berry between his leather covered fingers.

"Ivar..." She couldn't express her happiness well enough, "This is wonderful news!" She stands immediately, careful not to trip over the hem of her dress, before enveloping the Irish girl in her arms.

"I would see you free, of course," Artemis says to her, "Your life is your own to command." The red head smiled, her green eyes glittering with such emotion.

"I would like to stay under your service, my Queen, if that is alright with you. I've nowhere to go, and I will dutifully earn my keep."

"Of course," The Queen smiles, "I will have Geirdis help settle you in." The young blonde thrall moves to Aria's side, ready for an awaiting task.

"I humbly thank you, my King," Aria bows to Ivar once again, to which he waves off lazily as he usually did.

"I did it for my wife." He simply says, waving both Geridis and Aria off, "Report to the Queen in the evening for further instruction." They bow, and Geirdis leads Aria to a vacant room further into the hall, a smile of excitement on her face.

Artemis watches them go, happy to have her friend back. She bounces on her heels excitedly, turning to glance at Ivar. He watches her, head resting on his hand. She grins, flinging herself onto him, embracing him tightly. She places repeated kisses upon his head and brow, and he closes his eyes, relishing her adoring kisses. He could get you to this adoration.

"Thank you, my love." She says to him with a content sigh. Ivar grips her around the waist bringing her comfortably to his lap so that he may give her proper kisses on her plush lips.

"Anything for you, baby bird."

"The Jarl didn't put up a fight?" She asks and Ivar snorts in response.

"I am King, and he is but a lowly Jarl from a different kingdom, he could not refuse me, nor did he deny the silver I had offered." Artemis hums in understanding, placing a jeweled hand upon his stubbly cheek.

"Perhaps I should thank him?"

"No need. Money speaks to him more than any grateful words."

"Forgive me, my King and Queen, for interrupting such a tender moment," Heahmund enters, his tone almost sarcastic, with Hvitserk in tow, "The petitioners will be arriving soon."

"Fix yourselves and eat breakfast."

The older Ragnarsson motions with his hands for them to separate, plopping down beside his younger brother. Ivar rolls his eyes but pats her bottom for her to move.

"Eat. We have a kingdom to run."

...

Ivar sits on his throne as if he were born for it. He was all confidence, regality emanating off his person. He was fit to be king. Artemis on the other hand was a timid creature, lacking the vivaciousness she had when still a slave. Ivar glances at her to make sure she is ready. Her coronet gleamed beautifully in the natural daylight. She was a vision, but apprehension lingered in her eyes.

One after the other they came, some to dispute minor things such as a stolen goat, or a lost sheep. Others wanted marriage approvals and dowries disputed. They were mostly petty squabbles. Such things were Ivar's least favorite duty as king. He loved conquest, he loved expansion, and most of all, he loved war. He was a product of violent times, but he reveled in it. Small talk and petty rivalries were a nuisance in his eyes.

Artemis seemed to have taken quite an interest in the matters of the people. Of course, she was mostly there due to the formal setting, and as Queen, she must be present for all formal functions. But in her mind, if she was to be a proper queen, then it was her responsibility to heed the common people's plight. She wanted to do good for the people that she ruled, and help Ivar as king to prosper the kingdom, not to be a useless puppet beside him.

Ivar settled each dispute easily enough. All those years beside his mother had taught him about the local politics, though he was clearly bored of it.

The grievances of the day were minimal, small matters easily solved. The day progressed uneventfully, and by midday, the Queen sat brooding before a loom, hands tangled in a mess of yarn.

"My Queen, the weft thread is too loose." Artemis sucks her teeth at the comment, scowling. The longer she stared at the threads, the more the pretty colors of blue and green appeared to be one congested mess of shades. She was about ready to throw the loom away.

"You must tighten it, like this," Geirdis instructs, her skilled hands going over the threads with accuracy, demonstrating her many years of experience.

"I can't do it."

"Of course you can, My Queen, it just takes time."

Artemis snorts, turning her gaze away from the loom and down towards the hem of her embroidered skirts. One of the kittens, the brown one she named Eros, latched his sharp little nails into the wool, attempting to climb up the height of her leg.

She coos, easily grabbing the tiny thing in her palm. Eros mewls, causing the other 3 to call out as well, and a soft symphony began in the quiet hall. Artemis didn't mind it, it was a pleasant distraction, but Geirdis was far too annoyed with the felines.

"Hush." She scolds them, grabbing the trouble maker Eros from Artemis's hands. She then scoops up the others. The second troublemaker was Aries of light colored hair, the calmest was Siggy, the darkest and the only one Ivar named, and the curious one was Icarus. Geirdis places them in the arms of a passing thrall. Heracles snores, laying obediently beside his mistress.

"I'm sorry, my Queen, but you'll never improve if there are distractions." Artemis sighs but nods in understanding, once again picking up the shuttle to continue her amateur work. Her weaving was an attempt at creating a blanket for the arriving cold weather. So far, it was futile.

But, she had expectations to meet and shoes to fill. There were lessons in weaving and mending, a task women were to dedicate countless hours to, and a task she utterly detested.

To her, the loom was an unavoidable contraption. Threaded into the wood were her clumsily woven flax threads, nothing in comparison to tapestries and fine clothing made by the skilled hands of the women in the royal household. Artemis left most of the weaving to Geirdis and the rest of the talented women.

Running the household was entirely different, but something Artemis was able to grasp better than weaving. She was to oversee the storages for grain and meat, food that had to last them for the winter months. The keys resting at her hip were a reminder of the control and command she had.

Ivar led several hunting parties, he and his men leaving with nothing but their arrows, and always returning with several rabbits and a deer or two. They would later be skinned, salted, dried, and stored away for later use.

The King was currently out on a hunt with Hvitserk and the rest of their hunting party, leaving Heahmund, Dafi, and the rest of the guards to watch over the Great Hall, and the entire estate.

"My mother was a talented weaver," Heahmund says to her, glancing at the front of the loom before walking to step behind Artemis to get a better look. He was not impressed. "You need much improvement."

"Well, how about you fetch your mother to teach me then, hm?" Artemis shoots back, earning a chuckle from the Saxon man. Geirdis fetches a pitcher of mead and a drinking horn. She fills it for Heahmund, and he takes it with a nod of thanks.

"I'm sure Geirdis has her hands full with you."

"The Queen has been no trouble." The blonde says, her tone absolute, as if warning Heahmund in his use of words. No one should ever be so familiar with nobility, especially the wife of Ivar the Boneless.

"She wields a hammer better than a loom." He says, a comment that not even Artemis could deny. The dark haired queen cracks a smile, but continues to work with the loom, slowly pulling the flax threads tightly.

"I can't hammer clothing into existence. I wish it were that easy."

"The loom is an important part of a woman's life, My Queen. When our death comes to take us, we are buried with our weaving tools and mending needles."

"And what? Are you meant to weave in Valhalla?" Heahmund snorts, raking a hand through his freshly cropped hair. Geirdis turns to him, her eyes revealing her irritation.

"It is our worth, and what makes us who we are." She mumbles out.

"Heahmund, shut up," Artemis scolds before he could say anything more, "Only the gods know why Ivar decided to keep you around." He raises a brow.

"Did you say 'the gods'?"

"Did I hesitate?" She counters back, eyes not leaving her work, though she had no idea what she was doing. Geirdis sits beside her queen, gently stopping her hands with her own to demonstrate the proper technique again. Every so often her honey eyes would drift to glance at Heahmund before finding their way back to the weaving.

"Do manners exist in Crete?" Heahmund mutters.

"Much more than in England, I'm sure."

Loud chatter and footsteps were heard, a cue for Dafi to open the hall doors to let the hunting party in. The hounds could be heard barking, and the smell of dead animal flesh suddenly filled the hall. The kitchen thralls immediately scattered in, helping to bring in the game.

Heracles barks upon the sight of Ivar and Hvitserk, immediately stomping towards them in glee.

"Wife, you must calm this beast." Ivar mutters, watching how the mastiff stood on its hind legs, his paws placed on Hvitserk's shoulders.

"He loves the lot of you." She replies, placing down her tools to formally greet her husband. She smiles at him. He was covered in dirt, no doubt from crawling about with his bow.

"And why does Heahmund wear such a face? Tired of watching women weave all day?" Hvitserk jokes, now roughhousing with Heracles.

"He should take a turn at it, seeing as he bickers like an old crone looking to hear village gossip." Artemis says, softly wiping the dirt from Ivar's flushed cheeks with the edges of her sleeves as he held her close to him. He looked exhausted.

"Have you all the time to stand here and pester me so?" Heahmund barks out with no real heat behind his words. He laughs walking forward to clasp Hvitserk's hand, then to bow to his king in the Saxon tradition.

"It is a fun past time, I dare say," Hvitserk smirks, "Now someone please get this dog off of me." Heahmund grabs Heracles by his silver collar, hauling him down.

"How fair's my wife on the loom?" Ivar addresses Geirdis who stood quietly in the back of all the commotion. With her hands clasped behind her back she dutifully responds.

"She will improve, in time, My King."

"She means I'm terrible." Artemis sighs, smiling up at Ivar like a child.

"She doesn't lie." Says Heahmund with a snort. Ivar sucks his teeth.

"Quit teasing. Now, if you will all excuse us," Ivar addresses the hall, "I'd like to rest with my wife."

"My love, I must see to the preparations of the meat before evening." Artemis whispers to him, successfully earning a frown from the king.

"Surely that can wait? My legs ache," He says back just as quietly, a twinkle forming in his blue eyes.

"What kind of Queen would I be then?" She smiles, pecking his lips quickly, "Geirdis will prepare our chambers for you. Once everything is stored I will come for you." Ivar smiles, placing a kiss to her brow.

"Very well, go be a Queen."

...

The sky was overcast, the sun's radiance blocked by gray clouds, preventing the warm rays from penetrating over Kattegat. The farmers scrambled to continue their harvest before winter came with its harsh grip, and the fishermen pushed their small boats into the sea for their morning catch.

Artemis sweeps through the bustling village, passing pleasantries with the people who greet her, some keeping a distance from the mastiff that trotted beside her. It had been a few weeks since the wedding and her ascension as queen. Things were much different, yet nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The people held her in higher regards, of course, but life simply went on, for which she was grateful.

"Dafi?"

"Yes, my Queen?"

"Does it not bore you having to follow me? You're like a shadow," Artemis jokes to him, offering the young man a smile. It was plainly obvious why Aria admired him so.

Dafi only shrugs.

"I suppose it is rather silly when you look at it that way, my Queen. It is merely my duty to escort you, always."

"Yes, but does it bore you?" Dafi remains silent for a moment, not sure how to answer the question exactly.

"Come now," She smiles, "I've better humor than my husband."

"I assure you, my Queen, it is an honor to be by your side." Dafi cracks a smile. His usual stoic demeanor faltered for a moment, revealing a boyish smile under all that seriousness. He wasn't being honest, but she supposed it was alright, he seemed in good cheer and that was enough.

"Then I release you from your duties for the day, Dafi." His flaxen colored brows furrow at her words.

"But my Queen-"

"Go and spend your day the way you'd want to if I weren't a burden." She says nonchalantly, using the tips of her fingers to skim over Heracles's short fur.

"King Ivar will not be pleased once he is informed."

"Then be sure not to inform him, hm?" Dafi was not convinced. It has always been his duty to be her loyal shadow, as commanded by Ivar.

"Do you intend to escort yourself?"

"Of course not! I have my dog for the company." Heracles perks up to gaze at them both when he hears his name, his wrinkled face covered in drool.

"Your dog, my Queen?"

"Mhm. I'll just be with Master Hagen. Go about your day, Dafi." His features screamed skepticism, but he couldn't deny an order from the Queen.

"Very well, my Queen." She smiles, nodding him off before heading to Master Hagen's shop.

With the increase of trade, many have come to make a living in Kattegat. There was an influx of craftsmen, potters, weavers, bakers, and blacksmiths, many coming from the failing town of Hedeby. After Lagertha's death, the village was taken over by a series of Jarls, who only pushed the village back deeper into misery.

Once it was known that Kattegat's Queen was a blacksmith herself, many wanted to come and show off their work in the hope of gaining the King and Queen's favor, but an increase in forgers meant an increase in competition. Despite the growth in competition, Artemis still only chose to go to Master Hagen. She would honor Arvid's father.

Arvid's father was an ailing man, but the glint in his eye was that of a youthful man. He was intelligent, and quite a talented blacksmith, reminding Artemis of her own father at times, which made some visits difficult. His white beard was braided, and a silver bead was placed at its end. His fading tattoos were a reminder of his younger days, fighting in Ragnar Lothbrok's army.

Her mastiff bounded into the shop as if he owned it, sniffing about the things he has sniffed many times before as if they were new.

"My Queen, I was not expecting you." Master Hagen greets, his aging eyes following Artemis as she enters, removing her hood and shaking off the morning chill.

"This is no place for a queen." The old man nags, but already knew she came with purpose. Artemis snorts, removing her fur lined cloak and placing it aside.

"The title does not change anything." She moves towards the back, fetching a pair of gloves she favored for her work.

"Oh, but it changes everything." He chuckles, scratching at his beard, "A queen sits upon a throne and does not dirty her hands." He notices her usual guard was missing, but he says nothing about it.

"I was born a blacksmith, and I think that shall remain until the end of my days." The Queen says to him, "I would not be true to myself if I left such a life behind." Master Hagen smiles at her words, nodding in understanding.

"Very well, my Queen."

"And Arne?"

"Fetching more wood."

"Excellent," She smiles, "We've much work to do."

"Oh?" The older blacksmith raises his brows.

"I'm sure you have noticed the recent influx of villagers?" The old man nods.

"Many of them come with skill, Master Hagen, which means more competition for you." The old man frowns but listens attentively, "I suggest you take on at least two more apprentices, that way you may flourish."

"But my Queen," Master Hagen sighs, "I've not the strength to take on such a task. I am but an old man. Arvid was to oversee the shop, but he is making a name for himself in England. It would prove to be difficult."

"I will help you," Artemis smiles brightly, "And I'm sure many others will come looking for work. Your trade will increase, and you will be able to retire peacefully. I will see that you are well taken care of." The old man hesitates, mulling over the idea before nodding.

"Very well, I will do as you ask."

The rest of the day went by uneventfully. Artemis decided to look after Arne's work, while Master Hagen dealt with a few customers that came for minor purchases.

Arne was a gifted young man, already showing talent in his trade. He was 16 years, beginning his training a few years prior before moving to Kattegat and finding a new master to teach him.

He was nervous around her, stuttering when she praised him, bending his head low in a timidness whenever she moved to instruct him. He'd never known a woman of high stature to dirty her hands as the freemen did. But he didn't know her full story.

Later in the day, a woman stops by, one Artemis was not familiar with. Her hair was so pale it appeared silver, and her eyes were slanted like a fox. She had a smile on her face as she greeted the Queen formally, extending the greeting to Master Hagen. She appeared to be searching for something, her eyes quickly scanning the entirety of the shop before her eyes landed back to the Queen. Artemis was bewildered but says nothing, thinking perhaps the woman needed to purchase something for her household.

"Is there anything I can help you with?" Master Hagen asks her.

"Oh, not in particular. I was hoping to have a word with the Queen? Of course, if she has a moment to spare." Artemis nods, removing her gloves. She then glances at a hammer nearby, deciding to tie it onto her belt before instructing. She never made the mistake of leaving without it anymore as it proved useful. She instructs Arne to continue his work before smiling at the unknown woman, who peers at the hammer before stepping out into the busy streets.

"I'm afraid we haven't formally met?" Artemis says to the woman, tightening her rich cloak about her shoulders. The woman nods before answering.

"I meant no offense, Queen Artemis. My name is Dabria. I have just moved here from Hedeby."

"It is a pleasure, Dabria. Forgive me for being so bold, but if your family intends to remain in Kattegat, then you must all pledge your allegiances to King Ivar."

"I came alone, My Queen. I've no family." Artemis takes in her state of dress. She wore tightly fitted breeches, and a leather vest.

"You're a warrior." Artemis states, and Dabria nods.

"I wish to join the king's army, my Queen."

"Well, if your skills are noteworthy, then I'm sure he will not hesitate to accept you." They walked about Kattegat for a while, discussing the weather and the wealth of the town. Heracles trailed behind them, following his mistress loyally. Dabria speaks of her admiration of Kattegat, how lovely the trees must have looked in the summer months.

Kattegat was beautiful from this height, nothing at all from what Artemis remembered when she was a slave. There was something about the view of the mountains that calmed her, or at least, eased her mind just a bit. She understood Ivar's need to find solitude there. It was peaceful.

Both she and Dabria watched the scenery, and the silver haired woman breaks the silence.

"You seem like a humble woman, Queen Artemis, which makes this so much harder." Artemis turns to look at the woman, her brows furrowing.

"What are you talking about?" Dabria removes a dagger from the pocket of her breeches, unsheathing it to reveal a glittering blade. Artemis swallows thickly, her fingertips lightly skimming her own dagger she kept strapped to her thigh. A gift from Ivar, he told her to always keep it on her person. Looks like she'd be using it.

"Lagertha was an amazing woman," Dabria starts, surprised at how calm the Queen was. She expected a few tears by now, maybe an attempt to flee. She points her dagger towards her, "How could a woman untrained in the arts of battle be the cause of Lagertha's death?"

"I'd call it luck. The rest believe it was the gods who willed it. You may choose what you want to believe. Now what are your intentions with that dagger?"

Dabria smiles, slowly approaching Artemis with a grin.

"I intend to avenge Lagertha."

...

The Queen sniffles, wiping her face to rid herself of the angry tears with the back of her hand. Her eyebrows were arched angrily and her knuckles were white from gripping the hammer tightly. Her eyes were trained on the quiet scene before her.

Heracles laid beside her, his tongue lapping over his dark snout now covered in blood. His eyes were closed but his ears were entirely alert to the smallest of sounds.

She glances down at her hammer, using the hem of her torn dress to wipe the remnants of blood from its surface, grateful she followed her instincts.

The seer had been right in saying such hardships would surface, but so soon?

Dabria was clearly a supporter of Lagertha, a shieldmaiden bent on revenge. Despite her fox like features, she lacked the wit that foxes were known for.

Her dagger cut through Artemis's dress, slicing deeply into the soft skin of her shoulder. The Queen was lucky to have been quick in her own movements.

Artemis presses a hand tightly to her wound, hoping the pressure would alleviate the blood and pain that was blossoming now that the adrenaline had ceased.

She had hit the woman twice, once in the stomach and once to her face. The swing of the hammer was powerful enough to emit a sickening cracking sound from the woman's jaw, now dislocated. It had stunned the both of them, Artemis's eyes widening as she saw the woman drool and spit out significant amounts of blood. Her jaw was loose from its place.

The same feeling she felt at the war camp when beating the man's face was the same feeling she had at that very moment, and before she could lift her hammer to bring it down atop the woman's silver head, Heracles pounced, attacking viciously.

His teeth sank into her arm, the very one that held the dagger ready to attack, tackling her down. Then he went straight for her face, destroying her visage until it was nothing but a fleshy mess between his teeth. The beast growled over the warrior's dead body, before directing it towards an approaching figure, Dafi, who now held an unresponsive Artemis in his arms.

"My Queen," Dafi says to her, his blue eyes pleading with her, "Command your beast to stand down."

Artemis stared at the woman, face destroyed, body twisted in a way that reflected her dog's strength. She had not noticed that Dafi had found her, nor did she care. Moments ago she was fighting against this woman, and now, she drew in her last breathe. Heracles continued to growl, his protectiveness not dying down despite knowing Dafi very well. He slowly inched forward, ready to attack him with any sudden movement.

"My Queen," Dafi tries again, his eyes never leaving the angry creature before him. Artemis blinks, catching her breath before removing herself from Dafi's grip.

"Heracles," She commanded sternly, "Stop." The dog lets out one last growl before quieting, replacing angry noises with whining. He sits, staring up at her with large eyes, bloody snout and paws, awaiting the next command. Artemis says nothing. She spits at the fresh corpse.

Stupid woman.

She only armed herself with a dagger, perhaps not to attract unnecessary attention to herself. Or likely assuming Artemis lacked the strength and was but a weak woman. A weak woman would not have the strength that came from the many years of beating metal.

She walks down towards the path her feet wanted to go, if only to find a moments peace. Waving her hand to her large pup, he immediately follows her, leaving the guard stunned.

"My Queen!" He called after her, but she didn't stop. The commotion had spread to the rest of the village as the people came to crowd around the body of the dead woman to take a look, the ravens already feasting upon the bloody mess. The murmurs spread almost immediately, reaching the Great Hall.

Lagertha was dead, yet her spirit haunted Kattegat, Artemis realizes that. They wanted revenge. King Ivar so easily killed their queen, and so shall they with his. She wipes her nose with the back of her hand, her ears picking up the sounds of boots crunching against the grass.

"My Queen," Dafi says cautiously, "King Ivar had appointed me to protect you, and I have failed." He keeps a distance from her, in case her dog decided that his presence was unwanted.

"I'm not dead." She says.

"But I should have been there-"

"Why do you blame yourself?" She asks him quietly, not bothering to look at him, "I sent you away, did i not?" She continued to press her hand against the flesh of her shoulder, blood now seeping through the fabric. It would not be wise to lose any more blood.

"I was not there to protect you."

"You could not have known."

"Artemis!" Hvitserk's familiar voice causes Heracles to bark. It echoed into the mountain ranges for all to hear, like a menacing threat that seemed to rattle over the entire land of Norway.

He pushes past Dafi, already noticing the wound on her shoulder.

"What happened?" Hvitserk asks breathlessly, removing her hand only to see blood. His eyes settle on her hammer, then on Heracles's bloody snout. He sighs, turning to look at Dafi with a glare.

"Is it not your responsibility to protect her? The king will be here any second and only the gods know what he'll do." That was Ivar's cue to enter, his chariot coming into view. His mare ran at full speed, and when he pulled the reins to stop, the chariot lurched forward at the velocity. There was a fire in his clear eyes, a rage that Artemis had not seen in quite some time.

He hopped off, his hands dragging him quickly towards Dafi, but before the guard could create his string of apologies, Ivar swipes an arm against his shins, causing Dafi to tumble hard to the ground, a dagger already placed dangerously against his throat before he could groan at the impact.

"Give me a reason why I shouldn't kill you right now." Ivar says to him, his wild eyes shining with anger. His face was so close to Dafi's that the guard was speechless, expecting the blade to slice his throat.

"My king, I-"

"Do not bore me with excuses." Ivar hisses, the point of the blade piercing the delicate skin of Dafi's neck, blood already pooling at the punctured area.

"Ivar," Artemis calls out to him, pleading, "It was not his fault, it was mine. I sent him away. Do not hurt him." Ivar sucks his teeth, but his gaze never leaves the frightened man below him.

"He still had a duty to uphold. And he failed."

"Do not kill him." She stresses, her voice dark and stern, nothing like he's ever heard. It was enough for him to look over at her, her eyes hard and lips set in a line.

Ivar sucks his teeth again, flicking his wrist quickly and swiping his dagger with expert precision, slicing along Dafi's cheekbone and up towards his temple. The guard hisses but says nothing, as he knew without the Queen intervening, he would surely be dead by now.

"Fortune smiles down on you," Ivar spits out, "Her mercy is what keeps you alive. You are released from the duty of guarding the Queen. Now, get out of my sight." Dafi stood, eyes downcast in shame. He turns round and walks away from the party. It was the little mercy Ivar would show him.

"Bishop," Ivar's fiery eyes turn to the cropped haired man, "Take a few men with you and scout the area. Lagertha's supporters must be near, and wherever they are, surely my brothers are not far. Go." Heahmund nods, quickly glancing at Artemis before motioning to the other men to move out.

Artemis slumps against Hvitserk, head hanging low. She lowers herself on the dry grass, her wound aching. She felt tired. Ivar crawls over quickly, pushing Hvitserk away to grab hold of her. She keeps silent, not bothering to look at him, yet he places sweet kisses over her head, running a hand down the length of her hair as he's always done in comfort.

"You are a warrior, and don't even know it," He says to her softly, cradling her close.

"I'd hardly call myself that. I have the dog to thank." Her voice wavered as she found it difficult to speak. He places a hand to her thigh, the one he knew she strapped her dagger to. It was still there.

"You had no need for the dagger?"

"The hammer did its job."

"Mhm," Ivar hummed in agreement, "I saw the mess you made of her. Her body will be burned in the village square tonight for all to see. The people will know the strength of their Queen, and the consequences of treason." Artemis says nothing, her mind still going over the events of the day.

Hvitserk begins to silently tie a leather strip about the thick silver chain Heracles wore around his neck, leading the beast away with much struggle.

"Have the thralls feed him the rabbit meat he is so fond of. He deserves it." Ivar's tone was so gentle, it was hard to believe that moments ago he was nothing short from furious.

Hvitserk nods, pulling the beast away, and only when he was far enough, Ivar begins his soothing again.

"You're hurt, my love, I must get you to the healer at once." Artemis nods, slowly standing up with the help of her good arm, waiting for Ivar to quickly crawl over to his chariot. He waits for her to stand beside him then grips the reins, slapping them against the mare. The beast began to move at a moderate pace.

"This is what the seer meant," She says to him quietly, "This is what he meant by the hardships, the dark shadow that looms."

"And we will deal with it together," Ivar says, "There is nothing that will stand against us."

"Who had warned you?" Artemis asks suddenly.

"Arne, Hagen's apprentice. Said the old man was worried when you had not returned for a while. Arne searched for Dafi, and Dafi warned the other guards."

"You rid him of his post, but surely you won't humiliate him further?" She had that tone, the pleading one, Ivar could already detect it. She did have a much kinder heart then he.

"I will send him back to the lower ranks for a while, until I decide what to do with him."

"It was not his fault." Artemis repeats. Ivar nods.

"I know, my love."

They entered through all the bustling activity, and the people stared as they passed through, whispers of the Queen reaching them until they closed the doors of the Great Hall.

...

@heavenly1927 @didiintheblog @leilabeaux @jzr201 @inforapound @a-mess-of-fandoms @rastakami23 @ostra814 @zumzum96

#vikings #ivar #ivar imagine #ivarfanfiction #vikings ivar #ivarxofc #alex hogh andersen #ivar the boneless

72 notes · View notes

blushingbaka · 4 years

Text

saeko;

|| summary - if you drink enough, you swear you’ll wake up next to her

pairing: saeko x reader genre: post-breakup angst w/ sprinkles of fluff warnings: mentions of alcohol and intoxication length: 1.2k

✰ a/n: this is a fic based off the song talia by king princess bc girls can break your heart too T_T this is the first piece of writing i’ve posted on tumblr, and im so excited !! i’ve wanted to create content on here for the longest time, so i finally took the leap! i hope you enjoy some saeko crumbs, and ofc feedback is always appreciated :))

The jovial mood that a friday night elicits envelops you through the sound of animated conversation, glasses clinking, and lighthearted laughter. It defines the cozy yet lively ambiance of the bar closest to your apartment, and you try to lose yourself in it. In the wooden barstool beside you, your friend from high school is smiling brightly as she recalls an embarrassing crush, and you laugh along with her trying to play the part.

But you’re a bit too aware that your laughter is forced and that you seem to pitch in a beat too late. It’s an awkward sensation how you feel almost out of step with time. Even the noises that create a cheerful atmosphere around you begin to sound like white noise.

You wish you could blame this sensation on the amount of alcohol in your system. You’re on your third drink. No. This is the fourth. You suppose that qualifies for borderline wasted, but recently you’ve felt this way even sober. Going through the week has become nothing but a collection of black and white moving pictures that does little to entice you. Refusing to view your surroundings in anything but this muted fashion rouses a bit of self-loathing in you as you’re aware you only feel this way because of her.

Dissatisfied with your drink that no longer seems to burn your throat, you trace the rim imagining for a second that it is smeared with her red lipstick.

“It makes no sense to drink out of my glass when you have your own” you slide your drink out of reach, watching as a childish pout takes form on her face. Reaching out for your drink, she wobbles in the tilted barstool, and you find yourself instinctively grabbing her hip.

“You have no problem swapping spit with me any other time” she declares rather boldly abandoning her quest for your drink. She leans toward you, and the heat of her palms on your thighs and her signature cheshire grin elicits a shiver down your spine.

“And if it’s the red lipstick that’s the problem,” she continues taking advantage of your flustered state. “You should know it’s going to end up on your lips anyway” she closes the distance between you, and you know she’s the real reason for the warmth licking your insides.

Trying to ignore the pang in your heart, you don’t even realize your friend is waiting for your response until she lightly shakes your shoulder.

“Sorry what was that?” you force your attention on her, ignoring the concern lingering in her eyes. For your sake or hers, however, she continues speaking seemingly unfazed.

“I was just commenting on those people wasted in the back” she nods her head to the sparse group of people clumsily dancing to the music. The bar doesn’t even have an official dance floor, but they seem content enough with the space they’ve created for themselves.

“Honestly it isn’t even eleven yet” your friend scoffs, clearly humored. You become transfixed on a couple engrossed in each other’s movements, and you feel the tug of a genuinely fond smile. Catching a glimpse of someone with blonde hair behind them, you realize how badly a part of you yearns to join them.

“Everyone is staring” you mumble, cheeks feeling unbearably hot as your girlfriend steals the attention of everyone in the bar with her loud, off-key singing and impromptu dancing. It’s just the beginning of happy hour and it isn’t that kind of bar.

“Just keep your eyes on me. That’s all that really matters” she firmly cups your cheeks pulling your face towards hers to engulf you in a kiss. Your lips easily move against hers, and it’s a feeling kin to intoxication when she takes your bottom lip between her teeth and gently tugs. Her hands slither down your body, igniting every inch of skin that she touches, and you allow her to guide your hips in swaying to the music. All you see is her, and you become so entranced by those bright and restless eyes that you don’t realize you’ve started dancing freely on your own. And when she spins you, giddy laughter bubbles from your lips.

Fuck.

Your head is spinning. You somehow manage to unlock your door and remember at the last second to bid your friend a farewell. Even in your drunken haze, you can feel the awkwardness hanging in the air between you.

“I’m sorry” you blurt instead of saying goodbye. Your tongue still feels heavy with guilt of snapping at her when she offered to walk you home. You gave her a curt reminder that she didn’t even know where you lived, but she still insisted anyway. You suppose you should be grateful that she treasured the remnants of your friendship enough to put up with you tonight in your despondent state.

You were desperate to be with anyone that knew the person you were before her. You avoided any of your mutual friends, refusing to acknowledge the pity in their eyes, refusing to have other people see you as some abandoned half, and absolutely refusing to hear about what she was doing now. With how dry your phone has been recently, you suppose they were avoiding you too.

For yet another time tonight, you barely listen to words your old friend offers you, and you give her a half-hearted goodbye. You are thankful for the sliver of moonlight that stretches across the hallway of your apartment, making it impossible for you to be completely shrouded in darkness. It’s like a bitter aftertaste in the way it also illuminates the space that her favorite pair of heels used to occupy. Unlike the other times she had left, this time she took all traces of herself with her. Trying to ignore those empty spaces, you clumsily remove your shoes, kicking them to the side. Your fingertips trace the cool wall as you make your way to bed, using it to keep you steady.

It’s ironic how people may have said you were the sun in the universe of you and her, providing constant warmth and stability. If that was true, why are you the one now aimlessly spiraling off into the void with an unshakable coldness?

You fall at the foot of the bed, burying your face into the covers. It should be easy enough. Take off your clothes and crawl into bed, but your limbs feel incredibly limp. You could probably fall asleep right here if it wasn’t for the insistent prodding atop the crown of your head.

“See this is why you always have to share your drink. You’re too much of a lightweight” you force your head up to see her sniggering, and you use your remaining consciousness and energy to softly tackle her onto the bed.

“Say that to my face” you slur entwining your legs with hers. Each time she begins to speak, however, you kiss her words away forcing her to hold your head firmly in her hands, her breathy laughter fanning across your face. She gives you one final peck, eyes sparkling with adoration.

And that same adoration coats her words when she whispers, “I love you”

The piercing sunlight invades your slumber and it’s a crude reminder that the space beside you is empty. The pounding in your head is agonizing, but not as excruciating as the ache in your heart. How foolish of you to think that any amount of alcohol would allow you to wake up next to her.

Saeko.

#saeko x reader #saeko angst #haikyuu x reader #tanaka saeko #haikyuu saeko #tanaka saeko x reader #haikyuu reader insert #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu girls

20 notes · View notes

shoushatohaisha · 6 years

Text

report: haikyuu!! summer week day 5 part 1 (shinka no natsu)

previously: day 1 (shoen) day 2 (itadaki no keshiki) day 3 (karasuno, fukkatsu!!) day 4 (shousha to haisha)

guests: kagechan, fucchi, shouri, takumi

(...the haikyuu day event sure did wipe everything else from my brain, wow. but. i'll do my best...!)

so when the cast first ran out, shouri wasn't there – he just hung back without telling anyone because kagechan kept looking back at the wings and cracking up and takumi looked like he wanted to die. this was, of course, so that after kagechan welcomed the audience to haikyuu summer week, shouri could stroll out dramatically and say "HEY, YOUR SENPAI IS HERE. your senpai in this event. and in haikyuu. your senpai." ok shouri.

kagechan was nominally the MC and he did an impressive job fighting the black hole of attention that is kondou-kun for control. XD but... shouri: who's the MC anyway kagechan: it's me?? it's obviously me? fucchi: i mean, we don't know yet. shouri: i was the MC for karasuno fukkatsu so i'll kindly let one of you first-timers do it – takumi, you want to MC right? takumi: ……...yeah………sure…….... shouri: he does. i can see it in his face.

then they did janken and fucchi won so he briefly took over, just long enough to skip to the end of the script – "how did you all enjoy the screening today??" kagechan: this is as far as we rehearsed.

during cheer practice we did shouri's dumb high school cheer again. for him. not kuroo. XD

when we practiced the "volleyball, haikyuu" bit they briefly mentioned how strong the impact of adding "ue wo miageru" was – i think it was shouri maybe? who said that when first reading the script it jumped right out at him and made him like, reflexively want to look at the ceiling. ...and that the returning cast kept messing up in rehearsal, for a while there would always be several people who forgot to say "ue wo miageru" and went straight to "kyuugi de aru", lol.

and shouri ALMOST got us to do his "nyan nyanya nyan nyan nyan" cheer for nekoma, he got all the way through explaining it to everyone else, and telling us that he'd gotten whistled off for it the other day, and asking the ref for permission, and through one round of tobe tobe karasuno / hey hey fukuro / ike ike nekoma nya nya-- ...and got whistled off. XD

meanwhile, takumi kept sliding off toward the edge of the stage and shouri would be like "GET BACK HERE" and pull him into the middle. and then get distracted harassing someone and takumi would slide away again. much like with naoki, he got pulled into doing a lot more choreo than he would have otherwise simply by virtue of being in proximity to shouri, lol. (i heard the girls behind me at hajimari no kyojin that night laughing about "poor higashi-kun", haha.) only whereas naoki played the straight man aloud, takumi just silently, like, grinned and bore it.

having said that, during the screening shouri was obviously Peak Shouri, but hilariously enough he TIRED HIMSELF OUT by running around so much so i actually don't think it was as over the top as karasuno fukkatsu.

specifically, it was the scenes at coach ukai's that killed him, he and takumi came out as the elementary school kids bouncing around and acting super dumb and then shouri started running around doing every one of the tempos and eventually he had to like, wipe his face and lean over and brace himself he was breathing so hard. shouri u noodle.

takumi also made shouri act out bokuto's part so he could be konoha. it was cute, the way they were careful to respect that it was kouki on screen but that takumi took over the role later without making it seem awkward or unnatural. like during the bit where bokuto yells "the moment you think you can hit a strong spike, that's your chance" -- "kyouretsu na ippatsu ga uteru to omotta shunkan ga...kouki!" -- shouri jumped up and yelled "KOUKI!!!!" along with him and jabbed his finger excitedly at the screen. he brought it up in the aftertalk too. "HAHA IT WAS SO FUNNY TO SEE KOUKI YELLING HIS OWN NAME. :D"

ok back to the beginning tho. unsurprisingly, they had a lot of fun with the hamlet scene – kagechan's timing for running out, lifting his hand slowly, and reciting "SOSHITE, YOKUASA" was BEAT perfect, it got a massive laugh from the audience.

for the opening, they all did their own parts of course – fucchi running out to yell "KIYOKO-SAN" was a joy to behold – but shouri also did sarukui, hips and all, which was sure Something.

when takechan came out to explain the "school rules", shouri literally just galloped across the stage and disappeared into the wings opposite, it was like he couldn't bear to be off stage. XD at first fucchi was as bouncy as shouri, doing all the choreo and super star rolling thunder etc, but eventually he calmed down and sat there watching the screening super seriously, sometimes he was the only one out there.

meanwhile, the ladies made their first appearance! let me tell you, you have never seen such a group of fangirls over saeko/kiyoko-san, i thought everyone in the audience was gonna literally swoon at saeko's first appearnce. self included, obvs. (ofc everyone loved yacchan but that was more of a "you're adorable" and less of a "please wreck me" vibe.) it was also extremely satisfying to yell "akaaaAAAAshi" in one's best bokuto voice along with one thousand other people. and during the exam prep, "norio" also got his own round of character cheers. XD

when yachi yells "murabito b mo tatakaemasu!!" shouri ran out with a cardboard sign that read "MURABITO B", held it up proudly to cheers, then spent several minutes trying to get it to stay upright on one of the chairs. ("nice fight!" someone in the audience called.) murabito b remained on stage in support for the rest of the screening.

for "kageyama's not breathing!" kagechan flopped dramatically to the stage…. and then takumi ran out to do cpr! only it was such like, soft, gentle cpr that kagechan sat up and burst into laughter. in the car with saeko-neesan, kagechan pretended to fall asleep, and then acted out waking up, putting in eyedrops, etc. "ohayou," fucchi told him solemnly.

kagechan and fucchi did a great job with the synchro attack and then with all of karasuno's ending match/group number choreo. hilariously, all four of them started to do the final choreo that includes a bit of each school's signature moves and shouri forgot to do nekoma's. XD "it wasn't that long ago, idk why it's so hard to remember!" he said later, and having witnessed him reenact practically the entirety of karasuno fukkatsu i too wondered the same thing.

oh oh! when karasuno are doing the wheelbarrel walks, kagechan "wheeled" fucchi out all the way across the stage – then when they reached the wings, fucchi held himself up with one arm for several seconds while gesturing at kagechan and without taking a break they reversed course and "walked" back across the stage. from which i conclude that kid has amazing arm strength!

AND THEN.

during the last practice match against fukurodani, as kageyama debates whether to try out the new quick with hinata...

...suga kenta ran on stage, said "yannai no?" and ran off.

IT'S NOT LIKE WE DIDN'T ALL KNOW HE WAS THERE but oh my god the screeching, holy shit. again, self very much included. knowing how much kenta loves that line, i should have known that would be too much for him to resist. and yet. dies. it was incredible.

hilariously, the cast, who were pointing and laughing in shock just like everyone else, didn't acknowledge this surprise until the very end of the aftertalk. "ah yes, someone who… resembled… that orange-haired person on stage… appeared earlier, huh. briefly."

speaking of the aftertalk!

takumi talked about how this play was his stage debut: shouri: he cried ALL THE TIME. he cried at our first cast meeting. he cried on opening night... our takumi's grown so much! :') takumi: ……..….thanks. takumi: i was too nervous to enjoy anything until the play opened tbh. shouri: dude you're nervous right now. takumi: ……..yeah.

apparently during rehearsal takumi was repeatedly told to speak up more during fukurodani's group scenes – no one could hear him contribute to "hey hey hey" etc. but once the show actually opened and they could hear the audience reactions to fukurodani and everything he got less nervous and it became a lot more fun.

shouri: yeah, you had sarukui and everything, lol… i heard the audience calling "kawaii!!" when he appeared earlier and honestly if that's what you call cute... audience: KAWAII kagechan: seriously, i need a dictionary for this.

then shouri pointed out that although in the source material the characters don't use first names that much, in the last barbecue scene ken-chan alone would come on super strong and go around addressing all the characters by their first name. "OI, TETSUROU. TETSUROU. HAVE SOME MORE MEAT." so even though they weren't miked he was so loud that during these serious conversations you can hear him in the background going "TETSUROU. TETSUROU."

OH fucchi told us that "super star rolling thunder" was originallly "stardust rolling thunder"… because fucchi's agency is stardust promotions. XD fucchi: and in that scene i'm with ino hiroki-kun and nagao shizune-chan fucchi: and, you know, they sparkle fucchi: like stardust

apparently he got the go-ahead from worry-san, but not from the higher ups, precisely because of stardust promotions. XD shouri: then why don't you do it now? stardust rolling thunder. fucchi: i, wai-- fucchi: fucchi: fucchi: :| shouri: ^___^ fucchi: i knew it.

from which i conclude fucchi had tried to get out of doing it during their MC planning or something. XD

fucchi: you have to be the sparkles shouri: but i'm watanabe fucchi: -_- shouri: get takumi too fucchi: takumi, what's your agency? takumi: beaco-- fucchi: it's fine, it's fine, over there please

final messages: takumi's was very polite and respectful as he thanked the audience, it was cute. shouri said that watching shinka no natsu made him fondly remember all the work the different schools did to grow as a team and learn to communicate with each other during that summer – it was their irl summer of evolution. fucchi pointed out that he and kagechan will reach their hundredth haikyuu show during the saikyou no team! and kagechan said that he was here sitting in audience -- "right around there" – watching for the shoen dress rehearsal so it was really special to be here in aiia as a proper part of engeki haikyuu. :)

hajimari no kyojin next, then some off-camera stories from event night! THE GOAL LINE IS IN SIGHT. thanks so much for the nice comments, i really appreciate them, and i've been enjoying reading your capslocky tags. :D

#engeki haikyuu #hyper projection engeki haikyuu!!#kondou shouri #kageyama tatsuya #fuchino yuuto #higashi takumi #haikyuu summer week #event report #wow this just became the shouri report part two #who's surprised #literally no one

64 notes · View notes

ladywinchester1967 · 6 years

Text

Hot For Teacher

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Kelly Frazier (OFC)

Warnings: This is porn. Filthy, dirty, nasty, smutty PORN with JUUUUUUUUST a smidgen of plot. Age gap (Kelly is 26 and Dean is 35; not too bad IMO), dry humping, oral (male/female giving AND receiving), Daddy!Kink, BabyGirl!Kink, Professor!Dean, fingering, dirty talk, unprotected sex (WRAP YOUR JUNK irl!), masturbation (briefly)......I believe that’s it.

A/N: This one can be blamed on @bringmesomepie56 @waywardbaby and @waywardnerd67 between ruined panties, mentions of Professor Winchester and Dean basically being the embodiment of Lust.....THIS was born! Unbeta’d, all mistakes belong to me, pictures and gifs do not though. I found them on Pinterest and tumblr.

Professor Dean Winchester was easily the hottest guy I’d ever laid eyes on. With spiky, dirty blonde almost brown hair; a tall muscular frame and green eyes, he was sex on bowed legs.

Too bad he was also taught one of the HARDEST classes on campus. I often wondered if he made his class so difficult to pass because he knew girls (and some guys) would take it just to stare at him for an hour and a half. While looking at him was certainly a welcomed bonus, I needed his insanely hard history and lore class to graduate.

“Miss. Frazier?” He asked as I stood up to leave with the rest of the students after we’d been dismissed. I looked up and he made eye contact with me and gave me the “come here” motion with two fingers.

“That sexy bastard.” I thought as I stuffed my laptop into my bag and stuck my pen in my hair. I waited until the lecture hall cleared and walked up to his desk.

“You summoned me?” I asked

“I wanted to talk to you about your paper that you submitted.” He said and held it up. I was shocked, one; to see that he had printed it out and two; it wasn’t covered in the familiar, red scrawl I’d grown accustomed to seeing on all of my papers.

“Something wrong with it?” I asked, cautious.

The corner of his mouth turned up into his signature, panty-melting smirk.

“No, I wanted to tell you that your work has significantly improved since your last paper. Well done.” He said

I shuttered, breathing a sigh of relief.

“Thank you!” I said and he laughed

“What were you expecting?” He asked as he set my paper down and walked in front of his desk where I was standing.

“You to laid into me, remember?” I asked him as I adjusted my bag on my shoulder.

“For the record, I didn’t lay into you,” He said as he sat on the corner of his desk “I see a lot of potential in you and it frustrating when I see that and it isn’t being utilized.”

“I get it,” I told him “and you were right. I was getting complacent with my work.”

He nodded and said

“Look, I’m proud of you for improving but you’re still falling behind.”

“Stupid college why did I have to wait three years before actually STARTING?!” I thought. “Stupid hard class, Stupid hot teacher that made it fucking impossible for me to concentrate.”

I cleared my throat and asked

“What can I do to make it up?”

He did that thinking, nose twitch thing that reminded me of a bunny and it made a pang of sweetness go through my chest.

“I don’t usually offer extra credit, but I’m desperate.” He said “I’m in the middle of this paper that’s going to be published and I need some help grading papers if you have some time.”

“No offense, but why me?” I asked “Don’t you have other fifth years that could help?”

He shook his head

“None that would do a good job,” he said “you’re smart and don’t require me to hover over you like a helicopter. You help me grade and I’ll give you extra credit.”

I thought for a second, alone? With him? For god only knew how long? He definitely didn’t seem interested in me “that way” but hey, extra credit is extra credit.

“Sure,” I said “I have my last class in twenty minutes, after it’s over, I’ll swing by your office and help you out. Deal?”

I stuck my hand out to him, which he took. His large, warm, calloused hand took mine and gently shook it.

“Deal.” He said and let go of my hand as his next class filed in.

“See you later Professor Winchester.” I told him and left.

After my last class; the sun had set as I walked toward Professor Winchester’s office. The cool, fall air rustled with a breeze as I climbed the stairs and went inside. Once I was at his door, I knocked and waited. The door opened and there he stood; his tie was missing, the top buttons of his shirt were undone and his sleeves were rolled up past his elbows. I took note of his muscular arms and briefly wondered if they had ALWAYS looked like that.

“Hey Kelly,” he greeted me with a smile and stood aside to let me in “right on time.”

“As usual right?” I asked as I stepped inside.

I’d become familiar with his office, as he had hauled me in there to lecture me in private a week earlier. The handsome, dark shelves were lined with books, pictures and a few trinkets. The walls held his degrees and letters of recognition for his work. He shut the door behind me and said

“You can put your stuff anywhere,” he said “but first, I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

“Yeah, me too.” I said as my stomach rumbled.

“Why don’t we eat first and then we’ll grade?” He asked and leaned against his desk as he pulled out his phone. “Like burgers?” He asked

“Like is an understatement.” I said and he smiled as I set my book bag by the couch that was near the door.

“There’s this great place around the corner.” He told me

“Lou’s?” I asked and he nodded “MHH, their sweet potato fries are made with crack or something because I can’t get enough of them.”

He laughed, making a tickle of desire run down my spine, his green eyes sparkling.

“Me too,” he said “how do you like your burger?” He asked

“No ketchup, no mayo and no onions.” I told him as he dialed the number. He placed our order as I fished my wallet out of my book bag. I could feel his eyes on me, either wondering what I was doing or checking out my ass, I couldn’t be sure. Once he was done, he hung up as I turned around.

“Food will be here in twenty,” He said as I grabbed ten dollars out of my wallet and handed it to him “what’s this for?”

“My food.” I told him, still holding the money.

He shook his head

“Your money is no good here,” he told me “hold on to that.”

“Come on Professor Winchester, let me pay for my food.” I complained.

“Call me Dean,” he insisted “and no.”

“Uhhggggg, come on Dean!” I practically begged.

“Kelly, no.” He said firmly.

I gave him a bitchy look, shoved the money into the pocket of his shirt and stuck my tongue out at him, making him laugh.

“You’ll take my fucking money and you’ll LIKE it.” I told him, suddenly aware of how close he was to me.

“Such language,” He said as I turned on my heel. I felt him grab the belt loop of my pants and stuff the money in my back pocket, his hand just grazing my ass. I turned to look at him, feeling my cheeks flush red, still in close proximity to him. At over six feet tall with broad shoulders, he easily towered over me. Neither of us moved for what felt like an eon, his fingers still holding my belt loop. The heat rolling off his body and the scent of his cologne was and intoxicating mix. I stepped a hair closer to him, both of our chests rising and falling rapidly. His hands slid around to grip my hips as I stood on the balls of my feet.

“Kelly?” He asked, his eyes searching my face, for what I couldn’t be sure.

“Dean?” I asked, placing my hands on his shoulders as my pulse thudded in my ears.

“Are you-?” He asked and bit his lower lip, seeming to steady himself “Are you sure?”

I nodded, sliding my hands up to the back of his neck and lacing my fingers together.

“I’m sure,” I told him “I want to.”

With that, he tilted his head to the side and pressed his lips to mine. My heart reached an almost painful pounding as our mouths moved together, he had the fullest lips I’d ever kissed. He pulled back when the kiss ended, his forehead against mine.

“Still okay?” He asked

“Yes.” I answered

He smirked at me and pulled me flush against him, our bodies molding together as we kissed again. His office was silent except for the sounds of us kissing and our exchange of soft moans as I ran my hands through his hair, holding him in place. He slid one hand to the small of my back while the other went between my shoulder blades, still holding me firmly against him. I could feel everything; his strong, defined chest pressed against mine and his growing erection pressing into my lower belly.

I pulled back and started unbuttoning my plaid shirt while he watched. He pushed the sleeves down and it fell to the floor. I did the same thing to him, under his dress shirt was an undershirt, which he quickly discarded, leaving him bare chested and me still in my bra.

“You sure you’re okay?” He asked as we kissed “We can stop.”

“No,” I insisted “please don’t stop Dean.”

He moaned, gripping my hair tightly.

“Oh fuck, say that again.” He said and pulled back to look at me.

“Don’t stop Dean.” I said, looking at him.

With that, he bent down and picked me up, wrapping my legs around his waist as he carried me over to the couch. He sat down, with me in his lap as I started grinding on him. The pounding between my legs was begging for some kind relief as he moaned into my mouth.

“Fuck,” he said softly “oh fuck.”

A knock came at her door and we immediately stopped, looking at the door wide eyed.

“The food!” I hissed at him and climbed off of him.

“Shit, I forgot all about that!” He exclaimed and stood up, tugging his undershirt back on as I grabbed my shirt and ducked behind his desk so that the delivery person wouldn’t see me in my bra. Dean looked back at me to make sure I was hidden before he opened the door.

“Evening Dean.” the voice of a guy said.

“Hey Cas,” Dean greeted him “you guys busy tonight?”

“A little,” she heard Cas say “gonna be twenty two eighty.”

I heard Dean rustling around in his back pocket and then said

“Here’s twenty eight, keep the change.”

“Thanks Dean, have a good night.” Cas said. Once the door had shut, I peeked our and saw him holding a bag of food. I stood and pulled my shirt on.

“Eat and then resume?” I asked as I buttoned up.

“Definitely.” He said

We made ourselves comfortable on the couch, Dean even brought out some beer he had stashed away in his mini fridge.

“You are of age right?” He asked, his eyebrow raised.

“Yes,” I answered as I opened my beer “I’m twenty six, I’m just a LITTLE of age.”

“Really?” He asked “I would’ve thought you were younger.”

“You wanna see my ID or something?” I asked

He shook his head

“No, I believe you.” He told me.

We ate and talked a little bit; it turned out we had similar tastes is music and sports, though he liked to play while I preferred to watch.

“Oh come on, you’ve never played a pick up game of ANYTHING?” He asked

“I have four older brothers,” I told him “so I TRIED, but I was always the smallest person on the court or field so I’d get stepped on or run over so I just prefer to stay out of the way.”

“Four?!” He exclaimed and I nodded

“James, John, Michael and Ian.” I told him “I’m the youngest and only girl.”

“And I thought having one brother was a pain in the ass.” He said with a fond smirk.

“Siblings right?” I asked and took a sip of my beer. Once we finished eating; we disposed of the food wrappers and sat on the couch. Feeling bold, I set my beer bottle to the side and crawled over to him.

“Can I help you?” He asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“No, I think I can help myself.” I said as I climbed into his lap. He set his beer aside as I started kissing his neck. He groaned, his fingers digging into my hips again. I kissed my way down his body until I was on my knees in front of him, the bulge in his pants practically called my name. I unbuckled his belt and he slid his fingers under my chin, making my eyes meet his.

“You don’t have to.” He told me and I shook my head.

“I know,” I said as I unbuttoned his pants “but MAY I?”

He nodded and released me. I pulled down his zipper and he lifted his hips so I could pull down his pants and underwear at the same time. I had guessed that he was packing, but what I saw far exceeded my expectations.

“Jesus fuck.” I thought as I took his hardened length into my hand and started to pump him. I licked up and down his shaft as he laid his head back, moaning. I took the head into my mouth and swirled my tongue around as he sighed. I took as much of him as I could in my mouth, my hand compensating for the rest as I hollowed out my cheeks and began to suck.

“Oh fuck,” he breathed “fuck!”

I chanced a glance up, realizing he was watching me, his lust blown eyes meeting mine. I gave him a small smile and resumed moving my hand and mouth in tandem.

“There you go,” he said encouragingly “oh fuck, that feels good.”

I hummed, my pussy soaking my underwear and begging to be touched. I slid my free hand down into my jeans and started to touch myself while I carried on sucking him off.

“What’re you doing?” He asked as I started to squirm.

“I had to,” I told him “I need it.”

He shook his head and pried my hands off of him. I sat back on my heels, worried I’d made him mad. He stood up, tilted my head up and said

“This isn’t all about me you know,” his thumb running over my mouth “as much as I’d love to fuck your mouth into oblivion, I want you to get off too.”

“I can do it while I take care of you.” I told him and he tutted at me.

“No baby girl,” he said “that’s MY job.”

He helped me stand up and backed me up to his desk. “I’M gonna take care of that tonight.” He in buttoned my pants as I kicked my shoes off. He pulled down my jeans as he got on his knees in front of me and then helped me step out of them. The crotch of my panties was totally soaked with my arousal as he pulled down the plain, gray panties and cast them aside.

“Mh,” he moaned in appreciation as he looked at me, he then looked up “take off your shirt.”

I did as he told me while he stood up and locked the door. He came back to stand in front of me and then unhooked my bra. He pulled the straps down and took me in.

“So, that’s what’s been hiding under those clothes,” he said “you have a beautiful body.”

I smiled as he grabbed a pillow off of the couch and resumed getting on to his knees.

“This can’t be happening,” I thought as he threw my leg over his shoulder “there is NO WAY that my insanely hot professor is on his knees, between my legs right now. My alarm is going to go off any second and I’m gonna be pissed.”

He kissed from my inner knee, and up the inside of my thigh, his beard scratching my sensitive flesh. I let out a moan, my hand running through his hair. He placed his hands on my hips and lifted me up slightly so that I could sit on the edge of his desk. With that, he opened my legs wide and looked up at me.

“Beautiful,” He said and dove in. I praised myself internally for shaving the day before so I was clean as a whistle down there. He licked a broad stripe from my soaking hole to my clit, making me cry out as I gripped his hair hard.

“Keep it down baby girl,” he said “don’t want anyone hearing your sweet sounds but me.”

“Oh fuck, Dean!” I struggled to say as he swirled his tongue inside me, his fingers parting me so he could lick through my soaking folds. My hips started to move on their own, liquid fire seeming to course through my veins. “Dean, ohhhhh Dean,” I moaned quietly “that feels so-oh god-so fucking good!”

“Mhhhh, is this what you like baby girl?” He asked, taking my pussy into his mouth and sucking on it. I gasped and arched my back

“JESUS!” I hissed out, the sensation was nearly enough to knock me backwards. Guys had gone down on me before, but none had been like this. He seemed to enjoy it, relish in it even, that he was getting me off with just his mouth. He parted me with his fingers again, them and his tongue licking and stroking through me as I struggled to stay coherent.

“Dean, oh god, god!” I cried “just like-oh fuck me-just like that!”

I could feel that fucker smirking.

“That’s it,” he encouraged as his tongue lapped over my clit, his fingers sliding easily inside of me “talk to me baby girl.”

“Oh my god, I want to come,” I told him “don’t stop. Don’t stop, please!”

“Ride my fingers.” He told me.

My hips started to move as he kept lapping his tongue over my sensitive bundle of nerves, his nose bumping into my pelvis.

“Oh god, Daddy!” I cried. I realized what I had said and clapped a hand over my mouth. I stopped moving and he looked up.

“What?” He asked as I wished the floor would open me up and swallow me whole.

“Oh god. I am SO SORRY!” I said, moving my hand away from my mouth thoroughly embarrassed as he stood up “It slipped out, oh dear god, I am-“

It was his turn to clamp a hand over my mouth, his heated gaze piercing my eyes.

“It’s okay,” He said “more than okay.” His eyebrows shot upward “Baby girl.”

It hit me like a freight train; he was into it. He moved his hand away and I was smiling.

“Daddy?” I asked “Will you finish me off?”

He moaned

“Would that make my baby girl happy?” He asked and I nodded.

“Please Daddy,” I begged him “I want to come all over your tongue.”

“Mh,” he said and kissed me, I could taste my juices on his lips “anything to make my baby girl happy.” He said as he got back on his knees. He gripped my hips hard and sucked on my clit, making me gasp as my fingers tangled in his hair again. He moaned as I tugged on his hair, one of his hands let go of my hips and he pushed a finger inside of me.

“Mh, you’re so tight baby girl,” he said as he pumped his finger in and out of me “so fucking tight.”

“Ohhhhhh Daddy, that feels so good!” I moaned out as he introduced a second finger.

“Are you gonna be able to take Daddy’s big cock sweetheart?” He asked

“Yes!” I cried “I can take it Daddy, I want it!”

“Come for me,” he said, his voice husky “come for Daddy.”

I let go; the pressure in my abdomen giving way as the orgasm crashed over me and I gripped him tightly, letting out a scream as I came. I shook as he stood up, a light sheen of my juices coating his lips and beard. He licked his lips and used a tissue to wipe his beard as I took deep breaths, reeling from my orgasm.

“You want more baby girl?” He asked as he threw the used tissue into a near by garbage can.

I nodded

“Please?” I asked, still sitting on his desk. I felt like I was drunk out of my mind from the high he’d just given me.

“Since you asked so politely.” He said with a smirk and stepped toward me.

“Wait,” I said and he stopped “will you take off your shirt for me?”

He nodded and did just that as I spread my legs, my fingers finding my still soaking hole.

“No, sweet girl,” he said “let Daddy take care of that.”

“I want to try something,” I told him as I dipped my fingers inside of myself “now your pants.”

He looked confused but he complied, his socks and shoes joining his pants and shirt on the floor. I moved my fingers in and out of myself, whining as I did so. Once I was satisfied, I took my arousal soaked fingers and glided them over my nipple, soaking it with my slick. He watched me the entire time, a low moan escaping his mouth.

“You wanna taste me now Daddy?” He asked innocently and he nodded

“Oh baby girl,” he said and stepped closer to me “you clever little minx.” He bent down and sucked my nipple clean as I let out a high pitched moan. He pulled back and asked “Will you do that again for your Daddy?”

I bit my lip and nodded as my fingers went back between my legs, I began pumping them in and out as he spoke “uhhggg, oh baby, you have no clue how fucking sexy you look.”

“You like this?” I asked him “Watching me touch myself?”

“Mhhh, soaking my desk with your sweet juices.” He said “I’m never gonna look at that spot the same way.”

I grinned and threw my head back as my fingers pushed in and out of me. Once they were good and wet, I repeated the motion of soaking my nipple in my juices before offering it to him. He sucked hard, making me whine as his tongue flicked over my nipple. His free hand gripped my other breast as he sucked. He came off my nipple with a wet POP and he took the hand I’d been masturbating with by the wrist. He held it up to my mouth and said

“Suck.”

I opened my mouth and he pressed my fingers to my tongue. I enveloped my lips around my fingers and sucked like he had told me to. The sharp tang of my juices filled my mouth and he groaned.

“Oh, that’s my good baby girl.” He said and pulled his underwear down “you ready for me?” He asked and I nodded “tell me.” He said.

“Daddy,” I said innocently “I’m ready for your big cock in my pussy.”

He smirked and lined himself up with my hole that begged to be full of him. He pressed the head into me his hips slowly trusting up so that I could adjust to his size.

“You okay baby?” He asked me “You want Daddy to go slower?”

I shook my head

“No sir, I can take it.” I told him

He looked down and watched his cock disappearing inside of me.

“Mhhhh, yes you can,” he said “look at that baby girl, look at how well you take Daddy’s cock.”

I did as he commanded and realized he was right. Once he was fully inside of me, he picked me up and carried me over to the couch. He sat down with me in his lap, his hands running up my back.

“You wanna ride baby?” He asked, kissing all over my chest.

“Please, may I?” I asked him, eager for some friction.

“You may.” He said.

I started to move my hips; he was long and wide, so I had to take it easy at first. He moaned below me as he planted open mouth kisses all over my chest and neck.

“That’s it baby,” he moaned against my skin “oh fuck, just like that.”

I picked up my pace a little bit, I was soaked enough to where I could move freely.

“Ohhhhhhhhhh Daddy,” I moaned “Daddy, you feel so good inside me.”

“Keep riding Daddy’s cock sweetheart.” he moaned and leaned back, enjoying the view. I slid my hands up my body, and through my hair as I moved on top of him. His mouth dropped open a little as he watched me. “Mhhhh, my sexy little girl,” He said “putting on a show just for me.” I bit my lip and nodded leaning back a little bit so he could see every inch of my body. He groaned “Oh baby, you’re gonna be the death of me.”

“May I try something else?” I asked “Please Daddy?”

He nodded and I pulled off of him. I made him sit on the edge of the couch as I turned around. I gripped his cock in my hand and lowered myself on to him, fully sheathing him inside me once again. Dean pressed his chest to my back as I began to move again, he kissed up my shoulder and neck before his lips met mine.

“Mhhh,” he moaned as we kissed and he wrapped his arms around me “oh god Kelly.”

Hearing him say my name like that was like adding rocket fuel to a bonfire, it reignited the slow burn in my belly and I cried out as I grabbed his hair.

“Ohhhhh, say-say that again.” I moaned

This time, I could feel his lips closer to my ear

“Kelly,” he moaned in my ear as he gave it a playful bite “mhhhhh, Kelly.” He used his legs to spread mine apart “we’re both gonna touch you.” He said, he took one of my breasts in his hand and the other went between my legs. “Take your other breast in your hand.” he told me

“Yes Daddy.” I answered and did as I was told. He started by gripping my breast and moving the nipple between his pointer and middle fingers while I massaged the other nipple into a hardened peak.

“Fuck,” he moaned as he watched over my shoulder “you always touch yourself like this sweet girl?”

I nodded

“And I use my vibrator.” I told him and I heard him growl.

“We may have to play with that later.” He said and he grabbed my hand that was between my legs “you keep playing with your nipples,” he told me “I want to play with this while you fuck me.” He said, his fingers pressing into my clit. I squirmed under both of our touches while my hips continued to move.

“Ohhhhhhh Dean,” I moaned, the building orgasm threatening to rip me to shreds “Dean, please, please!”

“What baby girl?” He asked “tell Daddy what you want.”

“Can I come?” I asked, I couldn’t hold out any longer.

“Hold on a little bit longer baby,” he told me “Daddy will make it worth your wait. You feel so good, so fucking good around my cock.”

I tried to think of something else, ANYTHING else to keep me from coming. “My sexy little baby wants all of Daddy, doesn’t she?”

“Yes, please!!” I begged him

“You want me to come inside you?” He asked “You want Daddy’s hot come to fill you up?”

“PLEASE!” I begged as I moved my hips faster “oh god, Daddy! Please! Fuck my sweet pussy Daddy!”

I felt his teeth scrape my shoulder as he pounded into me, fucking me into oblivion as he let out an primal cry; his load spilling deep into my belly. I rode out the orgasm, practically chanting his name before collapsing in his arms. We both breathed hard as we collected ourselves, neither of us moved though.

After a while, we got cleaned up and decided to leave the paper grading for the next day, as we were both spent. He locked up his office and walked me out to the door.

“Where do you live?” He asked

“The west apartments,” I told him “two blocks that way.” And pointed to the right.

“My car is right there, I can give you a lift.” He told her.

“Dean, I’m fine.” I insisted and he raised an eyebrow at me.

“Please?” He asked “I’ll sleep better knowing you made it home okay.”

I smiled and gave in.

“Okay.” I said and we walked to his car, an older model Chevy. He cranked the car and the engine roared to life as he put the car in gear. We didn’t say much, other than me giving him directions to my apartment. When we arrived at my building, he pulled into a space and parked.

“Tonight was,” he said and licked his lips, like he was choosing his words carefully.

“Unexpected?” I asked and he nodded

“Yeah, but I had a good time.” He said with a grin.

“Me too,” I told him “like, a REALLY good time.”

“Any chance we could do this again?” He asked, looking hopeful.

Honestly, I was torn. On the one hand, it was the best sex I’d ever had. On the other, he IS my professor.

But carpe diem right?

“Yeah,” I said “I’d like that, but think we can keep it professional at school? I don’t want to be one of THOSE girls that screws the professor for good grades.”

He laughed

“I promise, I’ll keep grading you just as hard as I always have been.” He said.

I smiled and kissed him. When it ended, I grabbed an old receipt out of my book bag and a pen. I scrawled my phone number and a smart ass note on the bottom of it and handed it to him. He read it over and rolled his eyes

“Call for a good time?” He asked and held it up between his two fingers “What is this? The seventies?!”

I laughed and kissed him again before climbing out of his car.

“Be safe,” he called after me

“You too.” I told him with a wink before shutting the door. He waited in the car until I unlocked the door and waved. I could see him smiling as he put the car in reverse and backed out of the spot. I closed and locked the door behind me.

“Oh man,” I said to myself “I am in DEEP trouble.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

SOOOOO??? Everyone still alive?! :P Hope you guys enjoyed this trash as much as I did writing it. As always, KIND feedback is welcomed. My inbox and ask box are always open; so if you have something you’d like me to write, drop your Lady a line and I’ll make it happen!

The Squad/ Tag Team Champions:

@waywardbaby @waywardbaby @wonderfulwinchestersmut @familybusinesswritingbro @ain-t-bovvered @girlborninstorms @mrswhozeewhatsis @dacleverfox @carryonmywaywardcaptain @carryonmytardisjohn @kittenofdoomage @theworldiscolorful

#dean winchester #dean winchester smut #lady winchester writes #professor!dean #Supernatural smut #18 plus #Daddy!Dean #Daddy!Dean Trash #daddy!kink #babygirl!kink

102 notes · View notes

winterisakillerwrites · 4 years

Text

Get Better - Chapter Fourteen

Title: Get Better

Chapter: 14/18

Character: Tom Hiddleston/Cath Richardson (OFC)

Genre: Romance

Rating: Teen and up

Summary: Love. Companionship. Family. These are all of the things Tom Hiddleston desperately wanted. But his life and his choices left that a distant and unlikely prospect. So he did his best to move on and live his life as is. When an opportunity to return to the theater arises, he jumps at the chance and along the way finds that maybe, just maybe, those distant and unlikely prospects are closer than he could have imagined. Sequel to Brave Face.

Authors Notes/Warnings: So as I was writing Brave Face I knew that Tom’s story wasn’t over, even if that particular part of it was. And while I knew, more or less, what the overall ending to the story would be, its taken me a while to figure out the time in between.

Thanks to @redfoxwritesstuff for being an absolute godsend in regards to this story. I would truly be dead in the water without you.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“You’re back.”

The words fell from Tom’s lips unbidden as he’d rounded the corner into the dressing room. He found Cath standing at her station, her back to the door and head thrown back, laughing at whatever story Zawe was sharing with her. Tom fought desperately to tamper down the rush of joy he’d felt at the sight of her. Tried to write it off as just the happiness of having his friend back. Nothing more, nothing less.

Liar!

He shook the thought off and fought to keep his face as calm as possible. But from the quirk of Zawe’s brow, as her eyes met his, he knew he hadn’t been as successful as he’d hoped.

Bugger.

“Tom,” Cath exclaimed, whirling around towards the doorway, her hand clutched to her chest. Her green eyes were bright and she offered a soft, warm smile as Tom walked into the room and towards her. “Hi.”

“I trust everything is alright?” He queried as he made his way further into the dressing room, pausing before her station. He made sure to keep a respectable distance between them despite the fact all he wanted was to pull her into his arms. And it simply wasn’t something he could, or honestly should, do. “We missed you.”

Cath nodded, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “Everything’s fine. Just a small family matter.” She shrugged and carried on. “I hope Lorna’s taken good care of you lot.”

“That she did.” Lorna’s voice piped up from behind one of the curtains with a note of laughter in her tone. Tom let out a surprised laugh at the sudden intrusion. He liked Lorna, she wasn’t ever afraid to speak her mind. Or put him in his place. “As you well know, oh insulting one.” She poked her head out, rolling her eyes at Cath.

“Good,” Cath laughed back, shaking her head. Her eyes sparkled with amusement and Tom felt the all too familiar flutter in his stomach. Tom couldn’t fight the smile that spread across his face. It was wonderful seeing Cath so amused and content. She seemed so at home here. So in her element. He’d missed her far more than he could put into words. “Now,” she started, turning her attention back towards Tom and Zawe, “let’s get you both dressed and ready shall we?”

“Yes, boss!” both actors echoed as they quickly made their way towards the changing areas.

Tom took his time folding his jeans and jumper after he’d changed, setting them carefully on the stool at the back of his curtained station. He didn’t dare look too closely at just why he felt so suddenly on edge. It was bad enough knowing he was far more transparent than he’d intended (if Zawe’s look was anything to go by). Looking further into the whys would only bring discourse he wasn’t prepared to deal with at the present moment.

Some actor you are, Thomas old boy. Can’t lie to save your bloody life.

“You alright in there, Hiddleston?”

Tom jumped at the sound of Lorna’s voice from just beyond the curtain. He took a slow, deep breath to calm the rapid pounding of his heart.

“Yes. Yes, I’m fine.” He called, running a hand through his hair.

He turned to look once more into the standing mirror and straightened his suit jacket. Taking a deep breath he pushed the curtain aside and headed back into the main room. He could do this.

—

“Glad to see there were no mishaps tonight,” Cath laughed softly as she leaned over to wipe the last of Tom’s makeup from his face. He found himself staring at the point of her pink tongue, sticking out just the smallest of margins between her lips as she concentrated. He was taken aback, once again, but just how striking she was doing something so utterly mundane.

“It was a close call,” he started with a chuckle, letting Cath lift his chin with her small, warm hand to reach the base of his throat. He was grateful for the movement which forced him to break his focus on her mouth, though the feel of her skin against his was maddening. “Very nearly dropped a glass or two during the second scene. That would have been a treat.”

Cath chuckled, “Nothing like trying to avoid shards of glass. I’m sure Zawe’s feet thank you for not actually doing so.”

“That they do,” Zawe called from the next station. She held up said feet, wiggling her toes in Cath and Tom’s direction. Tom swatted at Zawe’s feet while Cath laughed and shook her head. “Fine, fine. Spoil sport.”

“Alright, Tom. That’s you done.” Cath turned to toss the used wipe into the rubbish bin by her feet. He didn’t immediately climb to his feet, instead sat for a moment trying to gather his thoughts. She was so close, he could feel the heat of her against his side. It shouldn’t matter, she was his friend; that was all. He’d made certain of it. But knowing it and forcing himself to accept it where two completely different things.

“Tom?”

He shook himself, immediately bounding to his feet. “Sorry, lost myself for a moment there.” He rocked awkwardly on the balls of his feet for a moment before mumbling, “I’ll just…Go change,” and hurrying towards the curtained changing area.

Once he was safely absconded behind the curtain, Tom lowered himself onto the stool in its corner (once he’d moved his street clothes to the floor) and cursed at himself. Seriously, what was wrong with him? What happened to his ability to play it calm, cool, and collected? He did this sort of thing for a living, surely some of it had to rub off eventually. Wouldn’t it?

Tom took several deep breaths, his head cradled in his hands. He needed to pull himself together before he went off and did something stupid. Again. That was a course of action he could ill afford, with things as shaky between them as they were. With determination, Tom pushed himself back to his feet. He slid the jacket of his suit off his shoulders and carefully onto its waiting hanger. Jumper, shoes, and trousers were next. He slipped quickly back into his street clothing and with one last glance around the room to make sure his suit and accessories were properly sorted (it was a habit he didn’t bother trying to break) he headed back out into the main dressing room.

Charlie was paused at the dressing room door, chatting quietly with Zawe as she ran a quick comb through her hair. He glanced up at Tom and smiled, “Ready?”

Tom nodded, “As I’ll ever be.” He ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath. “Shall we?”

Smiling the three headed down the staircase, through the hallway and out onto the street to meet with the evenings’ stage door crowd. Tom smiled and laughed as he talked with fans, posing for pictures when asked, signing programs and various other items handed him (within reason) and doing his utmost best to make each encounter as open and genuine as he could. While stage door wasn’t a requirement, he knew how important it was for fans and (within reason) he wanted to give what he could to show his appreciation.

And for the most part, the fans were lovely; giddy and excited as they spoke with him (and with Charlie and Zawe as the moved down the ordered line). There were the few odd encounters, those who wanted more than the usual small talk/photo/signature, but nothing that raised any flags with him or with his security. He still had trouble wrapping his head around the need for them, but several bizarre encounters had made their need clear. So they remained.

He turned his attention to the next fan who approached the barricade, flashing a warm smile. “Hello, darling, what’s your name?”

−

Tom smiled and waved as he headed back into the theatre, doing his best to ignore the groans of disappointment from those still left waiting. A part of him wanted to stay longer and sign all he could (and in years past he would have) but he’d learned well over the last few years just how important limits were, for others and for himself. Once inside the theatre, he climbed the stairs two at a time, suddenly desperate for the comfort of his own home.

The lights were still on in the dressing room and as he rounded the corner he found Cath and Lorna still inside. Zawe was there as well, settled onto the small cushioned chair a few feet from the door. All three of their backs were towards the doorway, purses piled on the chair at Lorna’s station, and they talked as they completed the final bits and bobs of the nights’ straightening.

“I mean it, Lorn,” Cath breathed, hands on her hips. “I don’t want to make a big deal of it. Seriously.”

“But it’s your birthday!” Zawe cut in, disbelief clear in her tone, “We can’t just not do something.”

“It’s your birthday?” Tom asked without thinking. All three women spun towards the doorway to face him. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.” He grinned sheepishly at the women standing before him. He hadn’t intended to eavesdrop (let alone get himself caught at it).

“Nosey git,” Zawe teased, flashing him a cheeky grin. “You just have to be in on everything, don’t you?”

Tom chuckled shrugging and running a hand through his hair. “It’s a terrible habit, drove my mother and sisters mad as we were growing up.”

“I can only imagine,” Cath added, laughing and shaking her head. “And it’s not my birthday yet. Next week Saturday, actually.” She paused and let out a soft sigh. “These two seem adamant about making a huge deal of it.” She narrowed her eyes at Lorna and Zawe, who smiled brightly back at her.

“Well then,” Tom started, clasping his hands together before him. “Happy early birthday.”

She smiled warmly at him. “Thank you.”

“Is there any reason why you are so against celebrating?” Tom was most likely pushing his luck, he knew it, but his innate curiosity wouldn’t let him leave the matter alone.

Cath dropped herself onto the chair at her own station, and folded her hands in her lap. “I just don’t see the point. I’ve done the big party thing and it’s honestly not me.” She shrugged. “I would much rather be sat at home with a film and a glass or so of wine. No fuss needed.”

Tom nodded. “My elder sister’s the same way.”

Cath laughed. “Smart woman.”

“She has her moments,” Tom joked. He unconsciously reached his hand up to rub the side of his neck. “Well, I just wanted to say good night.” He smiled softly at Cath and turned to nod at Zawe and Lorna. “I’ll see you lot tomorrow. Be safe getting home.”

He turned quietly towards the doorway and a chorus of “good nights” followed him out of the dressing room.

As he jogged down the stairs he found himself thinking over the conversation they’d had; grateful for another piece of the puzzle that was Cath. She had burrowed her way into his life in a way he hadn’t allowed in so long. She deserved something for that. Something to show her, despite all of his fuck ups and his faults, that he valued her friendship and her warmth.

He nodded at the guard at the door, pausing to wish him a good night as well, and followed his driver back out into the cool early May evening.

—

Tom let his eyes fall to the wrapped gift sitting on his side table. It had taken nearly two days, and more shops than he’d care to admit, before he’d found it. He’d been so focused on finding the exact right ‘something’ (he refused to let himself think on just why that mattered so dearly to him) that’d he’d very nearly missed it. The battered, leather bound book had been half buried in a pile of heavily read paperbacks in the charity shop not far off the main road in Notting Hill. He’d moved the pile at least twice before he’d spotted it. And even when he had, he’d very nearly overlooked just what it was.

Cath had talked about it just once. They had discussed books they’d loved as children during the first few days of the play’s run in their bid to get to know one another. Hers had been a battered copy of The Tale of Peter Rabbit which her grandmother had given her when she was a small child. The book had belonged her to grandmother (she’d had it since she was a little girl herself) and had definitely seen better days; the binding was loose, the cover page torn in several places, and there was an odd stain that no one seemed to be able to account for. But she had fond memories of both her grandmother and mother reading the story to her. It had been lost in a move when she was in her late teens and while she could easily find a more modern edition (and initially had done so) she had always hoped to find that particular edition once more.

Tom had no idea if the book he’d found was in fact the right edition, but had purchased it without a moments’ hesitation. How could he not, finding it like he had? When he’d opened the book once he’d gotten home, he’d been startled to find it was a first edition; certainly not in the best repair but a hasty Google search had found it was worth much, much more than the paltry £1.50 he’d paid for it. Pure insanity. He certainly wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

He’d spent far longer than he should have making sure the book was wrapped as neatly as he possibly could. He’d thankfully had wrapping paper that was not Christmas themed (Emma and his mother had gifted him several rolls of Christmas themed paper a few years back and he’d slowly been working through the backlog since) hidden in the back of his closet. Plain though it was, it was infinitely better than anything brightly colored and covered in reindeer or Christmas baubles. While he didn’t think Cath would have turned her nose up at seasonally incorrect paper, Tom wanted everything to be perfect.

Now all that was left to do was wait. And he’d never been brilliant at waiting. Yes, he certainly could when the time called for it (and he’d had great practice at it over the years). But this…This was different. Waiting was excruciating. All he wanted was to see her face when she tore open the paper and found what was waiting inside. Tom wanted nothing more than to see the joy spreading across her features, her eyes lighting up as she realized what she’d received. It wasn’t the same book, no, but it was as close as he could come.

Bobby barked twice, breaking Tom from his meandering thoughts. He glanced down to find the spaniel looking up at him with impatient eyes. Tom had been up and about for almost two hours now and while he’d fed Bobby and let him out back to relieve himself, they’d yet to go on their customary run. And that clearly wouldn’t do.

Tom let out a soft sigh. “Alright, give me five minutes and we’ll head out.”

Bobby barked once more and scampered off towards the front door. Tom shook his head and made his way upstairs to change. Bobby was still at the door, waiting with a wagging tail when he jogged down the stairs several minutes later. He barked twice as Tom hooked him into his leash and harness, vibrating with eagerness. He grabbed his phone and wallet from the side table, shoving them into the pockets of his running shorts.

“You, my lad, are a menace.”

The spaniel rapidly wagged his tail in response before barking once more. Shaking his head, Tom pushed open the front door and led them both out into the bright sun of the early May morning.

—

Cath chuckled and shook her head as Lorna proudly paraded into the dressing room cupcake in hand (with a flickering lone candle), singing ‘Happy Birthday’ at the top of her voice. Zawe, who’d stopped by the theatre early that afternoon, joined in clapping her hands and laughing as Lorna placed the impromptu cake before Cath at her station.

“I hate you both, just so you know,” Cath threatened, laughing as she blew out the candle.

“Worth it,” Lorna shot back, pulling Cath into a tight hug. “Happy birthday, babes.”

Cath returned the hug with enthusiasm. It had been a busy day thus far. Her mother had woken her far too early with her customary birthday call. That call was followed in short order by calls and texts from her siblings wishing her the same. She’d treated herself to a large latte and sweet treat on her way to the theatre (honestly how was she supposed to resist the gooey cinnamon buns they’d had at the counter? It was her birthday after all).

Cath eyed the cupcake with longing. It was a white iced monstrosity that looked as though you’d gain a stone just by breathing it in; she couldn’t wait to see how it tasted. “You really shouldn’t have though.”

“Like that’s ever stopped me,” Lorna snorted. She pulled out an envelope from behind her back and presented it with a bright smile. “Yes, I know I didn’t need to. I did it anyway. So take the card and deal.”

Grumbling, Cath reached out and took the envelope, tearing it open with a practiced ease. She smiled at the cutesy card Lorna had chosen. Finding the most ridiculous card had become a tradition between them and this time Cath had to admit Lorna had certainly come through. Nestled inside the card was a gift certificate for one of Cath’s favorite coffee shops. She laughed aloud. “You are only feeding my addiction, you know this right?”

“What else are friends for?”

A flash of movement beside her tore Cath’s attention from Lorna. She turned just in time to see Zawe pop a finger covered in frosting into her mouth.

“What?” Zawe started, with a smirk. “I washed my hands.”

Cath stared at her in disbelief. After a moment she grabbed the cupcake, slid it closer, and covered it with a napkin. She narrowed her eyes slightly. “Try that again and talent or not, I will end you.”

Zawe clasped her hands to her heart. “Aw, Cath, I didn’t know you cared.”

“It’s cute you think I’m kidding.”

Zawe just grinned back and pushed herself up from her chair. “Anyone fancy a coffee?”

“Actually Zawe that would be wonderful.” Tom’s voice echoed from the doorway.

The three women jumped and turned towards the doorway in unison. They looked at Tom and then at each other, bursting out in nervous laughter at their ridiculousness.

“Who says I was offering for you, Hiddleston?” Zawe quipped, recovering first. She crossed her arms over her chest in an attempt to look stern. An attempt ruined by the smile that threatened to spread across her face.

Tom laughed, his head falling back. “You did leave it rather open,” he pointed out once he’d recovered, his shoulders still shaking slightly.

“For that, my dear man, you can get your own coffee.” Zawe turned back to face Cath and Lorna. “Any takers?” She grabbed her purse from Lorna’s station top and headed towards the door.

Cath laughed, shaking her head, “I’m good.” She was still vibrating from the latte she’d had earlier. Maybe those four shots of espresso were a mistake.

“I’m game! I’ll have a large mocha latte, please,” Lorna called. She paused momentarily before adding, “With extra chocolate and whipped cream.”

“And I’ll have a double espresso!” Tom called to her retreating form. Zawe flipped him off as she jogged down the stairs.

Cath sighed and shook her head before turning her attention towards Tom. “Like you possibly need more caffeine.”

Tom grinned at her. “I didn’t say I needed it. I fully acknowledge my caffeine over indulgence.”

“Well,” Lorna chimed in looking back and forth between Tom and Cath. “They say acknowledgement of a problem is the first step.” Cath saw the knowing look in her friend’s eye and hoped to god for once Lorna would hold her tongue. This was not what she needed today. Not on her birthday.

Tom chuckled. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Lorna let out a snort. “Please do.”

Wanting to stop the conversation from venturing down roads she absolutely did not want taken, Cath clapped her hands together. “You’re early today, Tom.” A flash of movement near his feet caught her attention. She looked back up at Tom and smiled. “And you’ve brought company.”

Bobby barked once, tailing wagging ferociously as he tugged at his leash. Cath laughed and dropped to her knees. Bobby barked excitedly and charged towards her. Tom had brought the spaniel to the theatre off and on during the run, mostly on double performance days. Cath had enjoyed the dog’s company, having unofficially become his minder when Tom was on stage. And Bobby had taken to her as well.

She’d had a dog growing up, a black lab they’d called Shadow. He’d been an energetic, friendly animal whom she loved fiercely. It had broken her heart when they’d had to put him down (he’d had what the vet thought had been a stroke and had lost a good deal of function). Bobby reminded her a lot of when Shadow has been younger (though she admitted with a rueful laugh Bobby was three times the trouble maker Shadow ever was) and she enjoyed the simple joy of doggy companionship without the hassles of actual ownership.

Bobby licked her face eagerly, clearly thrilled to see his new favorite playmate. She laughed at the spaniel’s eagerness and Tom’s admonishment. “Bobby, sit!”

The spaniel paid him little mind and Cath could hear his groan of annoyance. “It’s not my fault he likes me best,” she teased, pulling back enough to look up at Tom with a bold grin.

She couldn’t quite read the emotion that sparked through Tom’s eyes. Didn’t dare let herself think too much on it. Going down that road when he’d been clear it wasn’t what he’d wanted. Or at least wasn’t worth it to him to try. It was gone in a moment though, his smile bright. “He’s a sucker for attention.”

Cath flashed him a cheeky grin. “Well they do say dogs resemble their owners…”

Lorna snorted, covering her mouth with her left hand. “Oh Tom, you’ve walked right into that one.”

“Ha ha,” Tom deadpanned, shaking his head pointedly ignoring Lorna who only laughed harder. He turned his attention back onto Cath who was chuckling away while scratching behind Bobby’s ears. “And to think I was about to wish a certain someone a happy birthday.”

“Aww, Tom, no need to be a grumpy Gus just because you’ve been called out,” Lorna laughed, settling back into her own chair.

“Don’t you have costumes to check or something?”

Lorna clasped a hand over her heart. “I’m hurt, Tom. Truly hurt.”

“Somehow I think you’ll recover,” Cath joked. She gave Bobby one last scratch behind the ears and pushed herself back to her feet.

“Et tu Brute?” Lorna turned towards Cath, eyes comically wide. Cath merely smiled and shrugged. “So ungrateful,” Lorna huffed with a hint of a smirk on her lips causing Cath to laugh despite herself. “I can see when I’m not wanted.” She pushed herself up from the chair and to her feet. Taking one last look around the room, Lorna let out an exaggerated sigh and headed for the doorway.

Tom chuckled and shook his head. “Flair for the dramatic that one.”

Cath quirked an eyebrow, “You’re one to talk, Hiddleston.”

He simply shrugged and let his backpack slide off the shoulder he’d rested it on. He placed the bag on Lorna’s station top, unzipping it without ceremony. From the bag he produced Bobby’s dog bed, a fair bit squished in the journey and a plainly, but neatly, wrapped parcel.

Cath eyed the parcel with a keen interest. She hadn’t wanted to get ahead of herself or to assume, but she couldn’t shake the niggling feeling that it was for her. He’d clearly taken his time wrapping the thing, whatever it was. The paper folded nearly onto itself, edges defined and taped with precision. She watched the way he handled the package with the utmost care.

In the end curiosity won the battle over propriety and Cath found herself asking, “Whatca got there?” Her eyes darted from his face to the parcel in his hands and back as she awaited his answer.

Tom paused, the parcel still clutched tightly in his hands before raising his eyes towards hers and offering a soft smile. He took a deep breath and without ceremony extended his arm and the parcel towards Cath. “Happy birthday.”

“I…”Cath started, taking the parcel from his hands unable to fight the involuntary smile spreading across her face. “Tom, thank you. You honestly didn’t have to…”

“Nonsense,” he chimed back. “I found it and it made me think of you. It’s your birthday and you deserve it.”

She blinked back at him. “Thank you.” She placed the parcel on the edge of her station and without letting herself overthink the action, pulled him into a brief embrace. Her action startled him, it was clear in the way he tensed before relaxing and wrapping his own arms around her. Cath knew she was pushing the invisible lines that had been drawn between them, knew she could so easily tip the scales in a way that would only cause them both distress, but she couldn’t stop it had she tried.

“You’re welcome,” he breathed into her hair.

His heart thumped against her ear as she remained pressed against his chest and she found herself reluctant to want to pull away. Cath knew she needed to, knew letting herself remain in his arms was not smart nor particularly good for her sense of wellbeing. But he was warm and comforting and she wanted to believe just for this one moment in time things were different. That they were different. It was stupid and selfish but knowing that did little to cease the wanting. The yearning.

With great reluctance she made herself be the first to pull away. She could sense the hesitation in his embrace before he let her go. She couldn’t look him in the eye, knowing she’d crossed the line that he’d drawn and she hadn’t protested. Cath cleared her throat and turned her attention back to the parcel on her station top. She tore the paper with great care, more than she usually reserved for gifts, wanting to respect the effort he’d clearly put into the project.

Confusion then disbelief spread slowly across her features as she found the book nestled in folded sheets of tissue paper. She blinked back tears as she looked up at him, words escaping her. Her mind flashed to the afternoon, months ago now, when they’d talked about stories and books they’ve loved. How she mentioned, in passing, her grandmother’s copy of The Tale of Peter Rabbit and how heartbroken she’d been when it was lost. A conversation that lasted no more than five minutes. How had he possibly remembered?

“How…?”

Tom smiled warmly. “I found it in a charity shop and I knew you would love it. I don’t know if it’s the same edition or even close, but I just…I had to.”

Cath launched herself at Tom, not caring that doing so was the height of impropriety. They both stumbled backwards, nearly tipping over before Tom had been able to right them. She buried her face in his chest, torn between laughter and tears. He’d given her something truly priceless and she didn’t think she could find the words to express just what this meant to her. “Thank you, thank you, thank you..,” she murmured over and over again into his chest.

She felt the rumble of his soft laughter against her cheek. “You’re more than welcome.”

He ran his hands up and down her back, his touch no doubt meant to be soothing. It sent shivers down her spine and she bit back a groan. He was such a tactile person, seemingly had always been that way. And she loved and hated that about him. Loved the way his hands felt on her, even in the most platonic of touches. And hated the way she knew his touches were meant to be just that. Platonic. Safe. Friendly. He was that way with everyone. And once again she selfishly wanted once, just once for him to touch her because he wanted to. Because it was her warmth and affection he sought with his own.

Cath banished the thought away. If wishes were horses…She raised her face to his and offered a watery smile. “I…Thank you. So much.”

Tom returned her smile but didn’t say anything else. They stood, staring at one another, neither speaking. Cath shivered as she felt Tom’s thumb brush her cheek, wiping away the tears that remained there. His touch was warm, the skin of his fingers softer than she’d expected. There was a flash of something in his eyes she couldn’t place. She licked her suddenly parched lips and watched in dazed wonder as his eyes flicked from hers to her lips and back.

And just like that night they both seemed to move without conscious thought. Cath could feel the warmth of his breath against her slightly parted lips. So close. He was so close…

Bobby’s sharp bark erupted through the silence of the room. They both leapt backwards in stunned startlement. Cath could feel her heart pounding in her throat. Laughter echoed from the hallway. She whipped her head towards the door in time to see Lorna making her way back into the dressing room, Zawe beside her a cardboard container with three takeaway coffee cups. Both women paused halfway into the room their eyes darting between Cath and Tom. Cath felt her cheeks flush and she fought to suppress the traitorous reaction of her body.

Lorna smiled coyly. “Are we interrupting?”

#Tom Hiddleston #Tom Hiddleston RPF #Tom Hiddleston x oc #Tom Hiddleston x ofc #Tom Hiddleston x original character #tom hiddleston x original female character #Tom & Cath #Get Better

0 notes