#but I had surprisingly a lot of fun drawing the disgusting chair

[janamensch]

Look, sometimes you just have to summon a disgusting little flesh throne to deliver your evil little villain monologue, it’s okay

#critical role #critical role art #cr2 ep138 #cr lucien #lucien nonagon #critical role spoilers #I really feel like I should add some tags so people can avoid disgusting flesh stuff but I have no idea which tags that would be #teeth #tw teeth #flesh #tw flesh #anyway #Lucien is literally the only reason I’m still watching CR #I just want to see what happens to/with him #after that I’m out #but I had surprisingly a lot of fun drawing the disgusting chair #up until the colouring part because that was kind of disgusting #but the sketch and lines were very fun #also I have no idea what the Intuit charges look like #they’re just little triangle pyramid things that glow right? they are now! #my art

[writingfortoomanyfandoms]

The Only Woman

Pairing: (Henry Cavill!)Sherlock Holmes x Reader

Requested: Yep - “Hello Ma’amMay I request a Sherlock Holemes x Redaer?That when they were younger she was BSF with Sherlock and Mycroft. And all of the sudden they disappeared and never wrote to her a letter or nothing. And she got closer to Enola and when Edoria disappeared she reunites with Sherlock and Mycroft and Reader is Mad and Sad that he left without saying nothing. She always was in love with him and at the end she finds out he also was in love with her! And lots of fluffThank You so MuchAnonymous (she/her/hers)”

Summary: Basically just the request

Warnings: Probably some swearing, some 20th century misogyny, pining, fluff, angst, denial, all that fun stuff, probably ooc Sherlock but we vibe with it because he’s soft af

A/N: My first full length Sherlock fic! I should mention that my requests aren’t actually open right now, especially not for full fics but I was inspired by this request and so decided to make it into a full one! I hope you guys enjoy, please remember to reblog, comment or send an ask letting me know what you think and if you want to see me write more for Sherlock (and Henry and his other characters for that matter) in the future!

Y/N had been essentially another resident of the Holmes household her whole life, having been introduced to the family through the two boys - Sherlock and Mycroft, whom she had run into while out playing in the woods. Her family lived in the house nearest to the Holmes residence, technically making them neighbours.

Sherlock and Mycroft didn’t exactly do ‘friends’, that much had been clear even to Y/N’s young mind after meeting them. She was a year and a half younger than Sherlock and yet she still knew more about interacting with other people than he did. Not that either of the Holmes boys had ever seemed interested in other people, they had their brains to keep them occupied, and when they failed to find entertainment in learning, they had each other.

Despite this, they took a shine to Y/N when they found her playing make-believe on her own in the woods and insisted that she come over to have dinner with them and their family.

Mr and Mrs Holmes had gone out of their way, following that initial visit, to make Y/N feel as welcome as possible at Ferndell Hall. At first this was simply because they were astounded that their sons had actually made a friend and seemed interested in maintaining this friendship, but then it was partially as a result of the somewhat turbulent relationship that it became clear Y/N had with her family.

Eudoria in particular had ensured that Y/N knew she could always come and visit, that there was a spare bedroom that could be set up should she require it, which Y/N only began to take advantage of as she grew up and the rows with her parents over her future became more frequent.

However, it was always Sherlock that she was closest to. While she considered Mycroft a friend, and he had grudgingly returned the sentiment, they had never clicked in the same way that Y/N had with Sherlock. Occasionally Mycroft would storm off midway through a game, frustrated by Sherlock’s intelligence which so trumped his and Y/N’s, or he would simply decide that he was ‘above’ having friends.

Sherlock never much minded Y/N hanging around though. Truthfully, now that she was grown, Y/N looked back at their years of friendship and couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps his reason for tolerating her company was because she gave him the awed reactions that he secretly desired from his intelligence.

She had fond memories of her childhood with the Holmes. At Ferndell she never felt the need to pretend to be a young lady ready to be married that her parents so desperately wanted her to be, even as a child. Mr Holmes encouraged her to continue her studies beyond what her Governess would teach her, and Eudoria actively tried to teach her all that she could, going so far as to teach her alongside her sons on occasion - Mycroft wasn’t exactly fond of that, though Sherlock appeared to enjoy her company.

And then there was Enola, a surprisingly timid child considering the family that she had been born into - though Eudoria was convinced that her shyness was a trait that she would soon grow out of. Enola adored Y/N.

While Sherlock and Mycroft paid their little sister no mind, too caught up in their own lives to acknowledge their baby sister’s, Y/N was fond of Enola. Having grown up in a male-dominated household with only brothers for company, she had always wanted a younger sister.

It was Mr Holmes’ death that changed everything.

Not long after his death, Y/N was saying goodbye to her two closest friends as they left for Boarding School. Y/N had promised to write to them and had been encouraged to do so by Sherlock, who seemed thrilled by the prospect of their continued communication and Mycroft had also seemed somewhat in favour of the idea.

Y/N wrote to the brothers for a year after they left. Her letters to Sherlock in particular were long and full of detail about both her life, her parents continued attempts to interest her in marriage and her attempts to further her education, as well as the lives of Eudoria and Enola.

After a year of these letters, however, Y/N had yet to receive word from either brother and thus, with a heavy heart, she had halted her letter writing and turned her mind away from the Holmes brothers. 

Eudoria had ensured that Y/N still knew that she was welcome whenever she wanted to come over, however, and so Y/N’s life at Ferndell continued even with the absence of the boys she had considered to be her closest friends.

Y/N had been the first to be informed that Eudoria had disappeared, Enola having ran over to her house the day of her sixteenth birthday in a state of distress, imploring the older woman to help her. They had agreed that it was best for Sherlock and Mycroft to be contacted at once, with Sherlock’s career, Enola had been certain that her brother would make himself indispensable.

Y/N had been less keen on writing to the Holmes brothers, dreading having to see her old friends again, still far more hurt than she could care to admit about their silence following their departure. Every time in the past week that Enola had brought up the topic of her brothers, Y/N had been quick to change the subject.

A decision that she was coming to regret now that she approached Ferndell to find an automobile parked outside of it. Y/N bit back a groan, aware that its presence more than likely meant that Sherlock and Mycroft would be waiting inside.

Y/N didn’t knock before she entered, she never had as she had basically been a part of the family over the past few years.

She could hear the low mumble of voices coming from the drawing room, which were becoming steadily louder and Y/N’s expression dropped into a deep frown as she stepped towards the room, recognising Enola’s voice, breaking with emotion, even through the closed doors.

Before she could place her hand on the knob, however, the door was flung open and Enola rushed out, crashing into Y/N, who almost dropped the bags she was holding.

“Enola?” Y/N breathed, her hands gripping onto the young girl’s shoulders, steadying her. 

“Y/N!” Enola embraced her tightly, though not before Y/N caught sight of her face, flushed red and eyes shining with tears, her expression the picture of distress.

“What’s happened? What’s wrong? Why are you… in your undergarments?” Y/N asked in a rush as Enola pulled away. The teenager wiped fiercely at her face, clenching her jaw.

“My brothers are here…” Enola seemed to struggle with herself for a moment before shaking her head. “I wish to be alone.”

With that, Enola pushed past her and shortly after Y/N heard footsteps on the stairs. Y/N looked back to the door to the drawing room and caught a glimpse of a man holding a book, chestnut curls falling over his forehead, his brown eyes just visible, his brow furrowed as though he were frowning.

Sherlock was recognisable immediately. His eyes moved over to the door, away from the chair Y/N knew to be facing him in the room which she assumed seated Mycroft, and his book lowered, his head raising and his lips parting in slight surprise - an expression that Y/N had never seen on him in the entire duration of their friendship.

Before he could say anything, however, Y/N turned on her heel and walked towards the kitchen.

“Good morning, Miss Y/L/N,” Mrs Lane said from where she was kneading bread dough on the kitchen counter.

“Morning, Mrs Lane - I see that Enola’s brothers have arrived.”

“Yes, they got here yesterday,” Mrs Lane confirmed as Y/N placed down the bags of food she had bought and began to unpack them into the pantry. Knowing how overworked Mrs Lane had been, staffing the house alone, particularly since Eudoria’s absence, Y/N had taken to doing the food shopping for them.

“Enola seemed very upset,” Y/N said, unable to conceal her worry.

“Yes - Mr Mycroft has been less than impressed by both the state of the house and Enola herself.”

“Why?” Y/N demanded, her frown deepening, the beginnings of anger festering in her stomach.

“He doesn’t think Mrs Holmes did a good job of raising her,” Mrs Lane looked equally disgusted by the words even as she spoke them. “He wishes to send her to a finishing school to turn her into a proper lady.”

“But can’t he see that she’s happy here?”

“I don’t think Mr Holmes much cares,” Mrs Lane admitted.

“What does Sherlock think of all of it?”

“He has been rather silent on the matter, Miss Y/L/N,” Mrs Lane said, shaking her head and sighing. “I fear Enola has been rather disappointed by the brother she so idolised.”

“She said she wished to be alone for a while,” Y/N said, leaning on the counter and rubbing her forehead, wanting to ease out the deep concern she was feeling for the girl she had come to think of as a sister. “I’ll try and talk to her in a little bit,” she decided and Mrs Lane nodded her approval.

Y/N ventured out into the garden half an hour later, figuring that that was ample time for Enola to think it over for herself. Y/N knew exactly where the Holmes daughter would be, she knew that Enola had a favourite tree in the garden where she would go, should she want to get away from the house for a little bit.

What she wasn’t expecting was to find Sherlock walking back from the direction of the very tree Y/N knew Enola to be hiding in. He looked deep in thought, but there was no denying the very slight smile that lifted the corners of his lips.

Y/N allowed her head to fall, her eyes on the ground, hoping against hope that there was even the smallest chance that Sherlock may not notice her.

“Y/N - it was you I saw,” there was an edge of something like delight in his voice as he spoke and Y/N wanted to look up, to see his expression, to confirm that he was smiling as he acknowledged her.

Instead, she chose to ignore him and attempted to continue walking.

“Y/N!” Sherlock called, and reached out a hand to gently take hold of her arm, pulling her ever-so carefully back to stand in front of her.

“Mr Holmes,” Y/N returned his greeting, lifting her head to watch his features fall into a slight frown.

“I wasn’t aware that you would be here,” Sherlock said, his eyes searching hers.

“I was always welcome at Ferndell,” Y/N responded stiffly. “Now I must go and speak with Enola,” she said, turning ready to leave him.

“Y-” Sherlock cut himself off from saying her name. “Miss Y/L/N,” he corrected, and Y/N risked a glance at her old friend over her shoulder, seeing his brow crinkled in confusion, an expression that she had rarely seen during their childhood.

“Yes, Mr Holmes?”

“How have you been?” Sherlock was floundering, that much was obvious. All the articles about him that Y/N and Enola had read, all her memories of him from her younger years had always portrayed him as being calm, collected, ready with his words. Seeing him now, in this state of uncertainty, caused by seeing her for the first time after so many years, it brought her a sense of satisfaction.

“Fine thank you, now if you’ll excuse me,” she didn’t give Sherlock a chance to respond, walking away from him as quickly as possible, though she could feel his eyes burning into her back as she left him behind.

Enola was sitting on the grass at the base of the tree, her back pressed up against it, her sketchbook balanced on her lap but her eyes were glazed over and looking at the scenery rather than at the pages.

“Can I join you?”

The teenager started, her eyes widening in slight shock but then she relaxed as her eyes landed on Y/N, who she offered a small, tired smile and nodded her head. Once Y/N had seated herself on the ground, Enola scooted over to rest her head on her shoulder and let out a long sigh.

“I’m glad to see you’ve put on clothes now,” Y/N finally broke the silence and the younger girl laughed a little.

“Apparently my proportions are incorrect,” Enola informed her.

“Yes, I often find myself thinking that,” Y/N teased and Enola giggled again, playfully elbowing Y/N in the side. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t want to go to Miss Harrison’s Finishing School for Young Girls.”

“Finishing school is the worst,” Y/N agreed. 

“I remember when you went,” Enola murmured. “Mother said you hated it.”

“I did,” Y/N confirmed. “I begged my parents every holiday to not send me back, I think I even asked your mother at one point to adopt me so that I wouldn’t have to go,” Y/N chuckled at the memory, shaking her head. “It was a source of great amusement for my brothers.”

“Mine too,” Enola said darkly. “Mycroft is an utter pig, you know.” 

Y/N laughed again at the choice of words.

“Family reunion didn’t go quite as planned, I take it?”

“I didn’t have a hat or gloves,” Enola sighed. 

“So off to finishing school?”

“The only logical course of action,” Enola agreed, her tone biting. “You were friends with them, weren’t you?”

“Yes,” Y/N said, wary of where this conversation was going. “But I stand no chance of changing their minds. Mycroft was always stubborn, even when we were children, and I haven’t seen them since they went to boarding school.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry, I wish I could help,” Y/N said, her heart aching for the young woman.

“It’s okay,” Enola murmured. “I was just wondering, though… Sherlock was talking about me as a child - you must have known me at the same time as him, yes?” Y/N nodded her confirmation. “I think I have more memories of you than him or Mycroft.”

“I spent a lot of time with you,” Y/N shrugged.

“He said that I used to drag a pinecone around with me.”

Y/N couldn’t help herself from laughing as the memory struck her.

“Oh yes - a little pinecone, wrapped in wool that you dragged around on a string because of Queen Victoria’s spaniel. Called… Dash? I think?”

“That’s what Sherlock said, yes,” Enola straightened up, a slight grin on her face. “So it’s true?”

“Yes, you were rather obsessed with the thing,” Y/N confirmed, still chuckling a little. Silence fell between them, comfortable and thoughtful.

“Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“What were my brothers like growing up?”

Y/N thought hard before answering, her mind going back to her childhood.

“They were fun,” Y/N said at last. “They both knew that they were smarter than me, and I think that that was at least part of the reason they kept me around. Sherlock would teach me things - things that my Governess wouldn’t have thought I ought to know…” Y/N trailed off. “They were kind,” she admitted at last. “Albeit a little aloof at times, a little arrogant, they were always kind to me. I think Sherlock could tell immediately that I was unhappy with my family, and that was why they brought me to Ferndell,” Y/N confided.

“Mycroft was kind to you?” Enola asked, staring at her wide-eyed. 

“He didn’t know any better until he went out into the world,” Y/N replied, smiling a little.

“I won’t let him send me to Miss Harrison’s Finishing School For Girls,” Enola stated defiantly.

“No,” Y/N agreed. “I don’t think that you should.”

///

Y/N was reading outside when the maid came to see her.

“Miss Y/L/N, there’s a Mr Holmes here to see you,” Freya spoke, her eyebrows raised just a tad in a teasing way, indicating that she thought it was a romantic house-call. Y/N frowned in return.

“Mr Holmes?” She repeated. “Not Enola?”

“If it’s Enola then she’s certainly changed a lot since I last saw her,” Freya said. “Mr Holmes is in the drawing room.”

Y/N closed her book and stood, following the maid inside, through the house and into the drawing room. She pushed the door open, still confused as to why either of the Holmes brothers would feel the need to make a house call to see her.

Sherlock was standing in the drawing room, his back to her as he stared at the painting hanging above the fireplace. She closed the door as quietly as she could, but the soft sound caught the attention of the detective anyway. Sherlock turned and offered her an unsure, gentle smile.

“Good morning, Mr Holmes,” Y/N said, bowing her head just slightly towards him. She thought she saw Sherlock’s smile falter just a tad before he returned her greeting. “What can I help you with?”

“I’m afraid I bring some bad news,” Sherlock said, walking away from the fireplace. Y/N stepped further into the room and indicated a chair. “Thank you,” he said as he sat down, Y/N seating herself in the armchair across from him. “Enola has run away.”

“Is that really all that surprising?” Y/N sighed, though his words did immediately cause her to worry for the young girl.

“Were you aware of what she was planning?” Sherlock asked.

“No. It just doesn’t surprise me.”

Sherlock looked at her for a long moment, seemingly analyzing her expression and finally he gave a slow nod of his head.

“So I take it that she hasn’t contacted you at all?” He asked.

“I haven’t heard from her since yesterday when I left Ferndell,” Y/N confirmed, attempting to keep her features as neutral as possible.

Sherlock frowned at her, his brow furrowed in concentration.

“Even if she had, you wouldn’t tell me, would you?”

“No,” Y/N admitted, shrugging her shoulders. “But you can’t blame me for that. We both know that Finishing School is not where Enola’s time would be best spent. Besides, from what she told me Miss Harrison seems a foul woman.”

She thought she saw Sherlock’s lips twitch as though he wanted to smile, but then he schooled his expression into one of neutrality again.

“You know, there was a time when you would tell me everything,” he reminded her.

“And there was a time that you found me utterly insufferable for that,” Y/N countered, her words sounding like she was spitting venom at him.

“I never found you insufferable,” Sherlock said, a chuckle in his voice. 

“Is that so?” Y/N mused, quirking her eyebrow at him.

“Perhaps a little slow at times, but I wouldn’t take that personally,” she hated how teasing he sounded, as though nothing had changed since he left. Sherlock clearly picked up on the anger festering in the pit of her stomach and spoke again before she had time to lash out. “But I never found you insufferable.”

Y/N made a noise conveying how unconvinced she was by his words and she stood from the chair.

“If that’s all…”

Sherlock’s eyes flashed with something similar to disappointment before he, too, stood and adjusted his suit jacket slightly.

“Yes… that’s all,” he said. “I thank you for your time.”

Y/N nodded and watched as Sherlock crossed the room to stand in front of the door, reaching out a hand towards the doorknob. Before he could turn it, though, Y/N was hit by a sudden wave of concern.

“Mr Holmes?”

The man paused and looked back at her over his shoulder at her.

“You… if you find her, or here anything… could you let me know? She’s only young… I worry about her.”

Sherlock bowed his head in a sign of consent.

“I will keep you updated, I promise.”

“Thank you… Sherlock.”

Just as Sherlock had promised, he kept her updated on the situation with Enola as best as he could and she received letters from him every other day, even if he had found no new leads.

On the days that he had nothing new to report, his letters were filled with updates about his own life, general musings, his theories about both Enola’s whereabouts and other, unofficial cases that had caught his eye. 

In short, they were the most un-Sherlock-like letters that Y/N could have ever imagined receiving and every time the post came she felt her heart lift in hope that there would be another one for her.

The only letter that Y/N had replied to, however, was one dated about a week and a half after Enola’s disappearance, in which Sherlock told her that he had asked Mycroft to pass over his duties and to make Enola his ward, filing Y/N in on the details about what had happened with Enola and the case of the missing Maquis. Sherlock had also let her know that he had attempted to make contact with his sister via newspaper and that she had indeed come to the meeting spot but had been disguised.

From the tone of that letter, it had been clear to Y/N that Sherlock truly cared for his younger sister, and that he knew that she would be capable of taking care of herself despite the worry that he so clearly felt over her.

After having received a response from Y/N after that letter, Sherlock had implored her to keep replying, but Y/N had not. She was afraid of falling into the same trap that she had when they were kids - of allowing herself to get too close to him, to feel something for him, when it was never going to go anywhere.

Y/N had allowed her heart to be broken by Sherlock Holmes once before, when she was too young to truly understand matters of the heart. She wasn’t going to do it again.

About a week after receiving the letter recounting the tale of Enola and Tewkesbury, however, Y/N got another surprise in the post. A letter from Enola herself, detailing Y/N with much of the same information that had already been given to her by Sherlock, though with more detail and far more reassurance that she truly was safe and secure and comfortable in her newfound lodgings in London.

In the final paragraph of the letter, there was a plea from Enola, imploring Y/N to go and visit her in London - she had attached a date for the following week and the address of a cafe that she said she thought Y/N would appreciate.

And so Y/N found herself boarding a train the next week, ready to meet Enola in London, agreeing to stay with her for a couple of days so that they could properly catch up.

Just as she was settling into the carriage, the train about to leave the station, the door slid open again and a familiar face appeared.

“May I join you?” Sherlock asked, a somewhat nervous smile on his face. Y/N returned it and nodded her head.

“Of course,” Sherlock entered into the compartment, closing the door behind him and placing his bag onto the overhead luggage rack and taking the seat opposite her. “I wasn’t aware that you were back here?” 

“Only for a night - Mycroft demanded my help,” Sherlock explained. “I thought about visiting you, but I was unsure of how much it would be appreciated,” he added. Y/N bowed her head a little, finding herself unable to maintain eye contact with him. “You didn’t reply to my letters.”

“Yes I did.”

Y/N risked a glance up and saw Sherlock’s lips quirk a little, holding back a smile.

“I apologise - you replied to only one of my letters.”

“That’s one more than you replied to of mine,” Y/N pointed out, raising her eyebrows challengingly. Sherlock didn’t even attempt to keep his smile at bay, grinning at her in the familiar cheeky way that Y/N remembered from their childhood.

“I wasn’t aware of how good you were at bearing grudges,” he mused, leaning back in his seat.

“Well perhaps if you’d come to visit you would have realised,” Y/N muttered, opening her bag that rested on the chair beside her and pulled out the book she was reading.

Before she could open it, though, Sherlock’s hand pressed down on the cover, preventing her from doing so.

“I'm sorry, Y/N,” he whispered and when Y/N met his eyes again they were so filled with genuine apology and concern.

“I wasn’t aware that you knew what an apology was,” but she smiled a little, seeing how Sherlock’s eyes brightened 

“Well I’ve been attempting to catch up on them as of late.”

“Enola?”

“I have yet to find her to give her one,” Sherlock confessed, leaning back at last. “You’re going down to see her, aren’t you?”

Y/N knew there was no point in denying it, Sherlock was always capable of telling when people were lying. He had always been particularly quick at picking up on Y/N’s lies as well when they were children.

“Yes - she wrote inviting me down last week,” Sherlock nodded slowly.

“Would you… would you let me know that she’s safe - that her lodgings are comfortable?”

“I’ll let her know you asked,” Y/N said instead, her voice quiet and full of understanding.

“Thank you,” Sherlock swallowed hard.

Silence fell between them. The most comfortable silence that had existed between them since their reunion.

“I did miss you, you know.”

“I’m sorry?”

“When I left home - I did miss you. I know you think I didn’t, and it’s understandable, but I did,” Sherlock confessed.

“Why didn’t you reply?” Y/N asked and she hated the desperation in her voice, the plea to understand why so many years had passed in silence. “Why didn’t you come and visit?”

“I don’t have a good reason for why I did - or didn’t - do any of it. And I’m so sorry,” Sherlock sighed but Y/N frowned at him, noticing how his gaze briefly dropped her own as he spoke, how his fingers fidgeted slightly on his lap.

“I know you’re the detective of the two of us, but I know when you lie, Sherlock Holmes,” Y/N didn’t know what made her do it, but she lent forwards and grabbed one of his hands between her own. “Tell me the truth, Sherlock.”

Sherlock studied her hard for a long minute, his eyes sweeping across her face, taking in every inch of her features and there was an emotion that Y/N couldn’t quite place lingering in his eyes.

“Mycroft used to… make fun of me, when we were children. Because he knew how I… how I felt about you. I’ve never quite… understood why he did, he always liked you, even if he never admitted it, but I hated it. I hated Mycroft making fun of me, it made me feel like he was smarter than me…” Sherlock’s cheeks reddened. “I did not mean for that to sound as conceited as it did.”

“To be fair, you were quite a conceited child,” Y/N teased, squeezing his hand and Sherlock chuckled. “But… what do you mean, how you felt about me?”

“You really want me to spell it out for you?” Sherlock asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“You said it yourself, I always was a little slow,” she grinned, “at least compared to you.”

Her heart was pounding out of her chest, she could barely breathe from the excitement at the idea that Sherlock was hinting at what she thought he was.

“You have to know by now that you are the only woman who I have ever held a place for in my heart.” He paused, shrugging his shoulders bashfully. “Or you were.”

“Enola?”

“Of course,” he confirmed. He lifted her hand tentatively up, pressing his lips gently against the back of it, keeping his gaze lowered. “I just hope that you know you never left it.”

The rest of the journey passed in a blur, the two of them having the final catch up that had been missing for so many years, everything feeling as though it was falling back into place, just like everything had been when they were kids.

By the time the train pulled into the station at London, Y/N had no desire to say goodbye to Sherlock Holmes, and by the way he loitered with her on the platform, it appeared that the sentiment was returned.

“Where are you headed?” Sherlock inquired. “I know Enola wouldn’t want you to tell me her address, but…”

“I’m actually meeting her at a cafe,” Y/N told him, adjusting her grip on her bag and smiling at him.

“In that case… would you allow me to escort you? London can be rather confusing at times, especially for those used to the country lifestyle,” he suggested and if Y/N didn’t know any better, she would have thought he was blushing a little in embarrassment.

“I would appreciate that yes, thank you Sherlock,” she agreed and Sherlock offered her his arm.

Enola did not seem overly surprised at Sherlock’s presence beside Y/N. There was a slight raise of her eyebrows, a knowing smile on her face and a gleam of amusement in her eyes as she walked over to them, her arms laden with a bunch of yellow roses.

“It’s so wonderful to see you again,” she said, completely bypassing her brother and embracing Y/N as carefully as she could with the flowers in her hands.

“I was so happy to hear from you, I was so worried about you,” Y/N told her, pulling away and examining her surrogate sister for any trace of hurt.

“I promise I’m fine,” Enola laughed, holding out the flowers for her. “I bought these for you, though.”

“They’re beautiful, thank you.” 

Enola’s eyes slid over to Sherlock at last, who was standing awkwardly to the side. Y/N could sense how his own gaze was flicking continuously between herself and his sister, clearly overjoyed at seeing her again but also wanting to continue the conversation he and Y/N had been holding on the train.

“It’s more of an apology, actually,” Enola mused. “I’m afraid that something has come up and my assistance is required… elsewhere. Perhaps Sherlock would take my place?” She raised her eyebrows at her brother.

“I-uh-”

“Fantastic!” Enola cheered, hugging Y/N once more and giving a nod to her brother before rushing away.

“Did your sister just set us up?” Y/N asked, turning to face the younger Holmes brother.

“I think so,” Sherlock confirmed. “For what it’s worth, she hasn’t gone far, I believe she has every intention of snooping on us.”

Y/N laughed at that piece of knowledge, rolling her eyes affectionately at Enola’s antics before placing her hand once more in Sherlock’s arm. He reached across her to take her bag to allow her to hold the flowers.

“Well we wouldn’t want to disappoint her, now would we?” Y/N said, nodding towards the door to the cafe, not missing the affectionate smile it brought to Sherlock’s face.

As he held the door open for her, Y/N reached up onto her toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

#Sherlock Holmes #sherlock holmes fanfiction #sherlock holmes imagine #henry!sherlock #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes fluff #sherlock holmes x you #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill x reader #enola holmes #enola holmes fanfiction #courts writings

[mrfeenysmustache]

#5 and SessKag 😬

HELL YEAH SESSKAG. Also hello best friend 🥲 you’ll be seeing this when you wake up so good morning 🥲

This one ended up a wee bit longer than the others lol

“Home stopped being a place when you entered my life”

#5 on the fluff prompt list

She’d met him at a party.

A Christmas party.

He stood stiff and awkward in the corner, a head and shoulders taller than everyone else, his crisp, fitted suit clashing with the silly holiday sweaters the rest of them wore.

“That’s my brother,” Inuyasha, her best friend and brother-in-law, whispered to her as he passed her a cup of punch, “we just reunited and the family aint too happy about it.” and she understood.

She made her way over, determined to bring him into the fold, or at least make him feel more at ease and welcome.

“Hello,” she greeted, his golden eyes slanting her way. “I’m Kagome, Kikyo’s sister. You know, Inuyasha’s wife?”

“Hn.” He responded with a nod in her direction. “Sesshomaru.”

“It’s so nice to meet you! Can I get you a drink?”

She watched his nose twitch discreetly as he scented the drink in her hand, and then his lip curled up just slightly in disgust.

“Oh, not one of these.” She giggled in response, “I know where they keep the key to the liquor cabinet.”

He relaxed just the slightest iota, and she practically beamed.

“Whisky on the rocks.”

“Coming right up!”

He sipped his drink slowly as she filled him in on every name, occupation and marital status.

Aside from Kikyo and Inuyasha, they had Koga, the bachelor bartender, Sango and Miroku, the married couple who owned a sweet shop, and..

“Me, and I’m a nurse.”

“No significant other?”

His voice, deep and rich, made the hair stand up on her arms in a pleasant way, but she resolutely ignored it.

“Nope! It’s just me.”

“Hn.”

He said little else, but she didn’t get the impression that he was annoyed, so she stayed near him as the party progressed.

“Bye everyone!” She called from the door when it was time to go. “It was so good to finally meet you Sesshomaru, I hope you’ll be around more often!”

He gave her a nod and a little smile, and she went home for a peaceful night’s sleep.

——

He was there for their next group dinner. Inuyasha warned them in hushed tones before he arrived that he may be in a foul mood.

“Things with the family have gotten worse. He barely talks so it’s hard to know what’s happened. I know they don’t like that he’s reconciled with me after they tried to completely shut me and my mom out for not being yokai, but I think there’s more he hasn’t told me. Just don’t be surprised if he’s moody this time.”

“As opposed to how warm and conversational he was at the Christmas party?” Koga quipped, laughing with Miroku and igniting Kagome’s fe mper.

“Well I thought he was nice!” she cut in, blushing when several sets of stunned eyes turned on her at once. “He was!”

“Yeah we saw you two getting cozy in the corner all night.” Miroku said, waggling his brow suggestively.

“We weren’t ‘getting cozy’ you insufferable letch. He looked lonely and uncomfortable so I talked to him. That’s all. And he was nice.” She shrugged, and then the conversation died as Sesshomaru himself swept in.

He took the only seat open, the one next to her, and Kagome felt her heart twist as he simply sat and covered his face with his hands, ignoring everyone else as they chatted and cut up.

Enjoying time with her friends felt hollow with such a wounded soul sitting next to her, but she knew so little about Sesshomaru she worried she might cross some unnamed boundary.

She took a large gulp of her drink and laid her hand gently on his shoulder.

“Sesshomaru… are you alright?” She asked quietly, speaking soft enough to avoid getting the attention of her friends but loud enough that he would hear. After a long moment where she was sure he wouldn’t respond, he pulled his hands away from his face and slowly reached into his pocket. He pulled out his cellphone and tapped the screen once, lighting up a photo of a cute, smiling little human girl with melting brown eyes.

She looked between him and the phone screen, unsure what he was trying to communicate, but certain it was connected to the cause of his dark mood.

“This is Rin.” He clarified, voice pitched low and for her ears only.

“She’s adorable.”

“Hn. She is my daughter.” He met her eyes, and the gold of his glowed firm and defensive.

Suddenly, everything made a lot of shocking sense.

“They don’t like that you’ve adopted a human, do they? Your family?”

“No. They do not.”

Pulling her purse off the back of her chair, Kagome retrieved her own phone. She scrolled through her pictures for just a moment, until she found just the one she was looking for: a grinning little Fox boy holding up a scribbly crayon drawing.

She tilted her screen over, and Sesshomaru leaned nearer to see.

“My son.” She said simply, and though his reaction was so subtle no one sitting any farther away from him than her would notice, Kagome thought she’d seen him sag in relief.

“We should get them together for a play date.” She suggested, and they exchanged numbers with plans to do just that.

————-

Rin and Shippo got along swimmingly, and, surprisingly, so did she and Sesshomaru. He’d grown comfortable enough with her that their conversation consisted of more than just her babbling at him and hoping he was listening. They shared their adoption stories, how they’d found their children and came to be their parents, the challenges that came with adopting children outside your species, he opened up about the backlash he’d faced from his family when he first brought Rin home, backlash he’d expected but hoped against hope he was wrong about.

“Once she warmed my heart and showed me the folly of clinging to the prejudices I’d been raised with, I reached out to Inuyasha in hopes of establishing a relationship with my only sibling. I’d never even met him before, as he and his mother were never allowed around the family before father died. Afterward, everyone acted as if neither ever existed. Likewise, Rin will never meet the rest of her relatives.”

Kagome watched the two children chase each other as they squealed with laughter. Uncomplicated fun between a yokai child and a human child. Completely different species, but alike enough to play.

“If she ever needs a grandmother, I’m certain my mama would take her right in. She’s loved getting to spoil Shippo.”

He smiled, small but true, and she went a little starry eyed at the beauty of it.

“Hn. I will keep it in mind.”

————

Play dates evolved into real dates, and though her friends teased them, they took it in stride. Quiet and controlled in public, Sesshomaru was soft and demonstrative with her in private. She’d never felt so secure in a relationship before, and the firm but nurturing hand he had with both children made them all feel safe.

They spent more time all together than apart, and soon life felt empty if they weren’t all together.

Sesshomaru occasionally came over with a dark cloud over his head after a particularly nasty clash with family, but she’d simply run her fingers through his hair until the knots of tension were soothed. He was a strong, yokai influence for Shippo to learn from; she was a tender human mother for Rin to thrive from, and when Sesshomaru asked if they could join their families together permanently, no question in her life had ever had an easier answer.

And no answer had ever had such drastic consequences.

News got out and around fast, and one night, less than a week after their joyous engagement, Sesshomaru and Rin showed up at her door with a suitcase each, and dour faces.

“We need a place to stay…. A place to live.”

“Oh my gods, come in both of you.”

They spoke nothing of it at first.

Kagome kept busy feeding the children, getting them bathed, and tucking them in together to giggle h see their covers before falling asleep.

As soon as their door was firmly shut, she sat at the table across from Sesshomaru and laced her fingers through his.

“I have been disowned and disinherited.”

Unsure what to say, Kagome simply squeezed his hand.

“They tolerated the fact that I’d adopted a human daughter, but they would not stand for me falling into my father’s footsteps and marrying a human woman. My choices were my standing in the family, or you.”

Tears filled her eyes as him being here could only mean one thing: he’d chosen her.

“Oh Sesshomaru. I’m so sorry.”

“As the house I resided in was family property I was no longer allowed to stay, and I was fired from my father’s company and stripped of all my rights to any part of it. I’m afraid I come here with nothing to offer you now.”

She stood and rushed around the table and into his arms, hunkering down into his strength, hopefully lending her own.

“Stop that. I don’t want anything but you and Rin. That’s all I need. I’m just so sorry you had to lose your home because of me.”

He rested his chin atop her head and let her scent calm him.

“My home.” He mused, looking around the tiny apartment he’d hoped to move her out of soon when they were able to merge their lives into one. It would be cramped with all four of them there full time, but it was already chock full of their memories. They would figure it out.

“My home stopped being a place when you entered my life, Kagome.”

She wept and he held her, one of the only treasures he had left in the world, while the other two slept soundly and happily in their bed.

#sesskag #sesskag fic #prompt requests #sesskag fanfic

[elen-aranel]

Lt., Phone Home (Part 2)

The Engineer’s Adventures

1-1 • 1-2 • 2 •  3 • 4

For @autumnleaves1991-blog Writer Wednesday. I saw the prompt and was inspired Pairing: Captain Christopher Pike x F!Reader (no Y/N) Warnings: mild cursing, drunk guy being creepy, mild canon-typical violence, alcohol mentions. WC: 2.5k A/N: what is happening to me I wrote this today and um. Yeah. Lots of plot but no kissing? Idk what to say. This is the Captain I needed today. Please excuse the pun title.

“I don’t think I can do this, Captain.”

It has been an... unusual day. Even if in space in general and on the Enterprise in particular there aren’t all that many usual days, this one has been exceptional.

You aren’t privy to all the details of what happened – you were in Engineering, running a level three diagnostic when the alien ship had crossed your path, and, well, ships and technology are your thing. Not theoretical temporal mechanics. Although, you suppose, looking at the... ‘phone booth’? Maybe the mechanics aren’t theoretical anymore.

You were surprised when you were summoned to the conference room, and told that you would be joining the Captain on this mission. Between getting dressed in civvies that wouldn’t look out of place in the twentieth century, and packing a bag with the equipment you’d need to retrieve the artefact, you couldn’t decide if you were more surprised that you were going or that Number One was letting the Captain off the ship, given the circumstances.

“So, why are we doing this?” You ask, as you scan the small town you’ve beamed to the edge of with your tricorder. You know what you’re looking for, but that’s about all.

“The Layrians maybe could have asked before they sent us back in time but... something was stolen from them and wound up here.” he quirks a wry smile at you. “If the... artefact, is allowed to stay here? They showed me the damage that would be done to the timeline, and Spock was able to verify it. Sending us back shielded us.”

“Oh. I guess that makes sense,” you reply, adjusting the tricorder. “Well, whatever it is, it’s this way,” you say, gesturing, as you put your tricorder back in your bag. You can’t bring yourself to ask why you had been chosen for the mission.

“Lead on,” Pike says, and the two of you head into the town.

It’s evening, getting dark, and the streets are quiet. Shops are shut, and only a couple of people pass as you walk.

“Is it wrong that even though I can’t believe how lucky I am to be here, part of me wishes it was daytime?” you say, as you turn a corner on to what looks to be the main street.

“No, I don’t think so. I would like to stop for a coffee. Look in the shops. But...”

“But we would probably mess up the timeline.” A vehicle drives past, and you wrinkle your nose. “I wasn’t expecting the smell.”

Pike laughs. “Horrible, isn’t it? Give me a horse to get around on any day.”

“Horses smell too, though, right? Especially when...”

“But it’s a natural smell. It’s different.”

“Whatever you say, sir,” you say, rolling your eyes a little to show you aren’t convinced. “The building we want is that one.” You point across the road to a bar. You hear music coming through the doorway, see people going in and out.

“You’d better call me Chris when we’re in there. We don’t want to draw attention when we’re around people.”

“Um... yes, Chris.”

You should have known that a bar would be trouble. Inside you take a seat at a table in the corner, where you can scan surreptitiously, and the Captain – Chris – goes to buy you drinks. You take a look round. It isn’t full, but it’s a week night, and there are a decent number of people. A band is playing in the corner, with guitars and a girl sitting on a stool singing. A few people are listening but most are chatting. You’re pleased to see that the currency you synthesised on the ship hasn’t raised any suspicions, as Chris returns with a beer for you and a scotch on the rocks for himself.

“Cheers,” he says, clinking his glass with your bottle. You take a sip, savouring the authentic taste of the alcohol.

“Don’t forget, this is the real stuff,” he adds, as he takes a sip himself.

“I can’t. I think this might spoil me for the stuff we usually have.” You avoid saying synthehol – you don’t know if anyone can hear you.

“Don’t play innocent. I know about the hooch you guys brew in the test bay.”

You laugh. “I never drink that stuff, Chris. It is absolutely disgusting.” He raises an eyebrow at you. “It’s fine if you just want to get plastered, but the hangover is not worth it.”

“Sounds like you’re speaking from experience there... do you have a story to tell?” He smiles, dimples at you, and wow. You’re in a bar, in the twentieth century, with a Captain that looks like that, and he has dimples.

“I am absolutely not telling you any stories of any kind,” you return, taking another sip of your beer before opening your tricorder under the table.

You look at your readings. This is going to be a problem.

“The artefact. It’s that thing on the counter behind the bar. Next to the machine they put the money in.”

“The doll-looking thing?” Chris sounds sceptical.

“That’s the one.” You sigh. You have no idea how you’ll get to it.

“I’m going to go take a closer look.” Chris goes to the bar and orders another drink, but this time he stays, flirting with the bartender. She’s pretty, and she doesn’t seem to be trying to shut him down – her laugh looks natural as she leans in toward him, not paying any attention to a couple of guys further along the bar who are clearly waiting to be served. You feel a pang of jealousy go through you at that, but he’s the Captain. There’s no way he’d ever want to be with you. You sigh and power off your tricorder, putting it back in the bag.

“Hey beautiful, looks like your guy abandoned you. How about you and me have some fun, make him jealous?” You look up into the inebriated face of a man in his mid thirties, dark hair greasy and beard unkept. He might even have been attractive if he got cleaned up. If he wasn’t so clearly drunk.

“No thanks, I’m good,” you say, polite.

“Yeah you are,” he says as he sits down anyway. You scan the room. Chris hasn’t noticed – he’s still talking with the bartender, and the band is playing a louder number now. No one is paying attention to you.

“If you’ll excuse me,” you say, moving to stand, but he grabs your arm.

“Don’t be a bitch. I just want to get to know you.”

You stand, yanking your arm out of his grip, and he falls backwards off the chair. But he gets up surprisingly fast, advancing toward you before you can get round him. And somehow, he has friends – those two guys at the bar have got up and are flanking him.

“Come on, honey, is that any way to treat a guy who’s being nice to you?” He makes toward you again and, well. Starfleet doesn’t give you combat training for nothing. You punch him, hard, and he goes sprawling into his friends. Everything goes quiet for a second, and suddenly you realise you have friends too – Chris is on one side of you, and a stranger on the other. Then the guy you punched rallies and all hell breaks loose.

Suddenly everyone in the place has taken sides; a fight must have been waiting to happen, you think, as you push forward to the bar. The bartender is going for the phone, and you see your chance. You catch the Captain’s eye, mouth “leave”, then you jump up onto and over the bar, glad for your pants and sensible shoes.

What you didn’t expect, as you hear sirens in the distance, was that the artefact was going to release some kind of EM pulse when you touched it. The lights all blow. The sprinklers come on. The money machine thing spews out a load of paper then catches on fire before the sprinklers dowse it.

Chris was nearly out the door, so he only stumbled out into the street. You held on to the doll-statue thing with a death grip – you hadn’t come this far to be thwarted – and maybe that protected you? But either way, where everyone else had been fighting or moving to get out the way or protect their drinks, they were now all sprawled on the floor like so many puppets with cut strings.

You check the bartender – she is still breathing, pulse still strong – but the sirens are getting louder. You stow the doll in your bag, go through the bar’s back door, through the dark kitchen, step over the cook’s prone form, and out into the alley.

You want to lean against the wall, calm down a little, but the siren is close now and you need to find the Captain, so you continue out onto the street.

Pike’s hair is mussed. You’ve never seen him look less then perfect before, but there is no other word for it.

“Captain, are you okay?” You ask as you fall into step with him.

“Chris. And I’m fine. Did you get...?”

“Yes, it’s in here.” You pat your bag. “I can believe it could mess up a timeline, based on what happened in there.”

“That was something else,” he says, taking your arm to draw you into an alleyway, out of sight of prying eyes.

He reaches in his pocket for his communicator with his other hand, and flips it open. It doesn’t make the usual sound.

“Pike to Enterprise, come in please,” he says but there’s just silence. Not even static.

He closes and re-opens it but still nothing, so you reach in your bag for yours, handing it to him wordlessly.

“Pike to Enterprise?” but there’s nothing. Yours is fried too.

You get out your tricorder, expecting it to be dead, but it switches on.

“I think the... doll... fried all active devices. Communicators run on low power all the time for translation. We have the tricorder but I can’t use it to contact the ship.”

“Well, we better not stay here. We’re loitering,” he says, with that lopsided smile again. “Not that I... well.”

You wonder what he had been going to say, when—

“Excuse me, sir, ma’am, is everything all right?” You turn to see a Police officer, looking you up and down. You’re glad for a second time that you’re wearing practical clothing.

“We’re fine, Officer. Thank you,” Pike replies, putting sincerity into his voice.

“There was a bit of a disturbance at the bar, Jane’s, earlier. You been there this evening?”

“We stopped by for a drink, but we didn’t stay long. The band was a little loud, and we couldn’t talk. Everything was fine when we left, though. What happened?” Pike looks concerned, and you work to match his expression.

“We’re not sure. They called us to say there was a fight, but when we got there all the lights were off and everyone was flat out on the floor. Looked like they’d been electrocuted.”

“Oh my god that’s awful! Is—is everyone okay?” You hope you didn’t ham it up too much, but the policeman looks at you with approval.

“We’ve got medics on the scene but it looks like everyone will be fine.” He takes a step back. “Call us if you think of anything you saw, that could be suspicious.”

“Of course,” Chris says. Calling. You need to make a call.

“Um... officer? I should call my sister, let her know we’re okay. Is there...?” You’re sure there is some kind of communication system in this era, but you’ve no idea what it’s called.

“A phone booth? Sure.” He points. Just down there, on the right. You two take care now,” he says as he walks away.

Chris takes your arm again as he steers you across the road.

“Well done,” he says softly, and suddenly it begins to hit you. You’re in the past. You’re cut off from your ship. You were nearly electrocuted. That creep who you had to punch. The weird doll. Dealing with the police officer.

You come to a stop in front of the phone booth. It’s very dark now, though the booth itself is lit, and this road is even quieter. There’s no one else around. Still—

“I don’t think I can do this, Captain.” You’re embarrassed to admit it – you’re Starfleet, you’re supposed to be ready for anything. “I know I should be impressing you right now, rising to the challenge, but I—” You stare at the ground.

“Hey,” he says, drawing you round to face him. “This has been a lot, and you’re not used to it. Away missions... you can train all you want but it takes real life practice before you get comfortable, especially when the shit hits the fan.” He touches your face gently, quickly, just enough to make you look up. “I wouldn’t have picked you if I didn’t know you can do this. I know this is your first time on a mission like this, and I am impressed with how you’ve handled yourself so far. Your quick thinking in the bar back there? You’re a natural. You just need to try one more time. Are you with me?”

“Yes Captain.” You take a breath, and get your tricorder out, and a toolkit. You scan the circuitry, then set to work. Something occurs to you while you have the phone in pieces, and you smile

“What’s funny?” The Captain asks, and you gesture to the keypad.

“Enter 1701,” you say.

It’s worth it for his grin as he presses the buttons.

“Pike to Enterprise?” He says as the phone connects, and you can just hear Number One’s voice, a little tinny, though the speaker. “We have the artefact. Can you beam us back from this location?” He sees you holding up three fingers. “In three minutes. Our communicators got fried and we need to put the... uh... phone booth back. Yes I know.” He rolls his eyes. “All right. See you soon,” he hangs up, and you get your tools out again.

Back on the ship, back in your uniform, back in your time, you are called to the ready room. You bring a PADD with your report.

“Captain,” you say, handing it over.

“Thank you,” he replies. “I wanted to ask you here to say... thank you for your exemplary performance. I wouldn’t be surprised if the mission ends up being classified, but you saved the timeline. The important people know.”

“Thank you, sir. And thank you for your support down there. The stress did get to me but... I’d do it again.”

He looks at you, then, his blue eyes holding yours as he comes to some decision.

“Please understand, this is a request you can say no to. I don’t want to put you under any pressure but... I abandoned you at that bar, a bit, and I was wondering... would you like to join me for a drink, after shift? I only have the real stuff.”

You feel butterflies in your stomach as you reply, “I—I’d like that. Yes.”

“Then it’s a date.”

(Part 2)

#writer wednesday #Christopher Pike #Christopher Pike x Reader #Captain Pike #writings of the girl from outer space #writing prompt #fanfic #fanfiction #Christopher Pike x You #The Engineer's Adventures

[luna-helps-writing]

Ooh this is gonna be fun! Um, okay, my name! You can call me Sage. My personality can be a bit on and off sometimes but mostly I'm chill and laid-back.

On my best days I'm lively, playful, cheery and witty. On my worst however, I can be either explosive or devoid of all life. But I am snappy either way.

I am bisexual and I go by she/her pronouns.

I'm a bit more on the shorter side, with a height of 5'2. My dark brown hair reaches right below my upper back. My eyes, also brown, are quite wide but not too big.

Drawing is my main hobby but I also enjoy reading and crafting. I do have some skill in instruments but it isn't the type you'd commonly see.

I have a habit of picking off the skin from my lips (disgusting, i know) absent-mindedly. It's not even an anxiety thing. It just happens whenever.

... I've been reprimanded multiple times for that particular habit.

At first glance, others think of me as quiet, reserved and sometimes even a bit intimidating but once you get to know me, I'm actually loud and quite boisterous.

Of course, I have my serious moments as well. I love making people happy which is why I often put other's needs above mine.

I'm very understanding and quite empathetic so people often turn to me to vent. I'm a great listener and any secret anyone shares with me will guaranteed be staying a secret unless they themselves reveal it to others.

It's gonna be a real challenge getting me to open up though. Let's just say I've had my fair share of betrayal.

Well that's all I have to say about myself, oof, sorry for rambling. Anyway! If you do decide to do this, would like to be coupled up with The Hobbit please. 😊✨

Hi Sage! Thank you so much for requesting, and don’t worry for rambling! I love it. (Also the picking skin from your lips isn’t gross. I do it too, but it’s because of my anxiety)

I ship you with Thorin!

• I think his behavior is close to yours. There are days where he is very fun and happy to be around, but there are also times he prefers silence and may come over as harsh. He understands it immediately and knows how to make you smile on your bad days. And vice versa. Whenever he’s being moody, you’re quick to turn him around as he becomes a bit kinder.

• Your hair, it’s a big deal for him. Dwarves have reasonably long hair, but yours? Just sit on a chair and he’ll braid it for HOURS. He loves it! He’s surprisingly gentle and takes his time, what you absolutely love, because it just feel so good.

• He plays harp too, although not to everyone. You’re one of the lucky ones. You’ll sometimes join in with your own instruments, which makes both of you really relaxed.

• As a dwarf, he has experience with crafting too and he spends lots of time with you creating all kinds of things. He also appreciates your drawing and doodles and admires them immensely. He himself can not draw....at all! So knowing his S/O can, makes him very happy.

• He isn’t bothered by the lip biting. Sure, he tells you to stop when you’re doing it, but it’s only to prevent pain. He knows it sometimes hurts to pick of a piece of skin, so he purely does it for your own good.

• Thorin himself has trouble being more relaxed at times, but you’re quick to lure him out of his dark shell and make him let go of worries for a while. Although he always tells you to let him be, he is happy when you do this.

• Let’s be honest; Being a king is not only flowers and butterflies. It’s very stressful and difficult. When he comes back after a long day of work, he’ll often rant to you, knowing you will listen to him. He’ll let go of his worries and just let everything go in your arms. It’s his place of comfort, because he knows he can trust you with anything.

• Surprisingly, Thorin opens up quicker than you do. He lets you take your own time and doesn’t pressure you into anything. It takes a terrible, stressful day, which ends with you tucked into bed, warm and cozy, to tiredly tell him everything he needs to know. He lets you take your time and holds you for the time being, helping you wherever necessary.

I hope it’s to your liking! Stay safe during these times and enjoy life sweetheart❤️

#self insert quotes #requests are open #requests #send asks #match up #thorin x reader

[artificialqueens]

Everybody Knows You're High, 4/4 (Rajila) - Dartmouth420

Summary: It’s not just the weed this time, Raja’s in love, and Manila’s about to make a confession.

A/n: this is one long-ass chapter of feelings and lesbian porn lmao. this is specifically for the anon from a few weeks ago who requested manila smut, here ya go :P also thank u to V&albatross for your encouragement and for letting me play in your world lol <3

tw: weed, mild second-hand embarrassment, smut: 80% sexy, 20% disgusting, 100% dumb ;)

Manila stood in her steamy bathroom leaning against the edge of the sink, with a towel wrapped around her body, and stared at herself in the mirror.

Last night had been… a lot.

She’d just gotten out of the shower, and there were dark circles under her eyes from the late night, the stress and the hangover. The hangover wasn’t as bad as Manila thought she deserved. Chugging straight vodka from the bottle in a state of emotional turmoil had been a terrible idea.

However, a part of herself that she’d been suppressing for too long was raising its head, this time with hope. Parsing out what Raja had been trying to say last night had practically required a cryptographer, but Manila was like eighty-seven percent sure that Raja had said she liked her, and was interested in… maybe dating. Or something. It all got a little blurry after she’d kissed Raven.

Manila stuck her tongue out at herself in the mirror and left the bathroom, walking quickly down the hall in her towel to her room to get dressed. She examined one of her nicer shirts, and that corduroy mini-skirt she liked, and then decided not to get her hopes up. She pulled on a pair of dark blue sweatpants with the college’s name written across the butt. But her hand lingered over her one of her nice bras, an elegant black one with red lining, and after a brief but eventful internal wrestling match, she put it on. And covered it with a T-shirt and a hoodie.

After having breakfast, drying her hair, scrolling through her phone, cleaning the bathroom, killing time and receiving no texts from Raja, but not sending any either, Manila put her hands on her hips and sighed.

Manila had two choices. She could go across the street and actually talk to Raja about her feelings, or she could drop out of college, move to Canada, change her identity, burn her fingerprints off with acid and start again as an entirely new person.

Despite the strong temptation of option two, Manila chose option one and rushed out the door before she could psych herself out. She hurried up to to the familiar house across the street and a few doors down. Manila took a nervous breath as she knocked on Raja’s front door, immediately regretting that she hadn’t texted or something before just showing up. Maybe Raja wasn’t awake yet, or maybe she didn’t want to see her after she’d been so messy last night-

The door opened and Raja stood there. Her long black hair was wet and brushed straight like she’d just showered, and her loose, green linen shirt was damp where the ends sat on her shoulders. She looked suspiciously fresh and clean for the day after a party, but then Manila remembered that Raja had been sober the entire time.

“Hey,” said Raja, with a goofy, knowing smile.

Manila’s palms began to sweat, and her heart leapt out of her chest and prostrated itself on the floor.

“Uh- hi,” said Manila.

Raja stepped aside and Manila walked in to the living room, slipping off her shoes and glancing at the familiar couch. An empty bag of chips and a couple loose video game controllers sat abandoned on it. Usually she’d go right in and sit down, but that didn’t quite feel right today. Carmen’s voice drifted over from the kitchen, one half of a conversation she was having over the phone.

“We could talk in my room?” suggested Raja, rubbing the back of her neck nervously. Her deep brown eyes were without expectation.

“Sure,” said Manila decisively, and walked quickly to the stairs and up to Raja’s bedroom, the first door on the left.

Raja’s room always surprised Manila. The first time she’d seen it she’d expected a total stoner disaster zone, but instead it was surprisingly neat. There was a beautiful piece of blue and gold paisley fabric tacked up on the wall, some clothes piled up on the back of the chair, and several mugs on the nightstand. Books, her laptop and some weed paraphernalia were scattered on the desk, but the floor was clean and the bed was pretty much always made.

Manila sat down on the edge of the bed, and wiped her sweaty palms on her pants. Raja sat down next to her, close but not touching.

“So…” began Manila, drawing out the word and wondering what exactly she was going to say. She didn’t want to be the first to admit her feelings. Part of her still felt afraid, instinctively evasive when talking about how she felt. “You like me, apparently.”

“Yeah,” laughed Raja, amused, flipping her damp hair over her shoulder, “Yeah, I said that.”

“Mm,” acknowledged Manila, already a little flustered by how Raja had just openly admitted it, like it was that easy. Everything was so easy for her. “Are you mad at me for kissing Raven?”

“For like a minute last night, but uh, it seemed more like you were mad at me, actually.”

“Yeah, I was kind of upset-” said Manila, and hesitated. Talking openly like this was outside of her comfort zone and she felt too warm and too awkward and… she would rather all of this be a big joke, to laugh it off again and hide how she really felt behind the humour.

“I’m sorry I decided to make that joke about you missing your opportunity when I was trying to be all serious or whatever,” said Raja quickly, all in one breath, “That was really stupid. I really did mean everything I said, except for that part.”

Manila nodded, the hurt rolling back over her for a moment. The feeling of rejection had been awful. But maybe that was how Raja had felt the first couple of times Manila had rejected and mocked her for expressing interest.

“It’s okay,” said Manila, cracking a smile, “You are incredibly stupid after all.”

“But I’m still getting better grades than you,” replied Raja, raising her eyebrows and grinning.

Manila looked at her hands. Raja was next to her, but she felt simultaneously closer and farther than she’d ever been. They were steering out of familiar territory towards something Manila both hopelessly longed for and horribly feared.

“I didn’t do anything with Yara, by the way,” confessed Manila, the words spilling out of her mouth before she could stop them.

“What, really?” replied Raja, cocking her head to the side.

“Yeah I lied about that, she and Alexis love each other so much it’s gross,” said Manila, rolling her eyes. “I thought you’d been acting differently around me, so I… said that.”

“They do seem to love each other a lot,” confirmed Raja, nodding, a sneaky grin growing on her mouth, “You wanted to see if I got jealous?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t believe in jealousy,” sniffed Raja imperiously, “Love should be free.”

“You’re such a fucking hippie,” said Manila, shaking her head, amused, “And you were jealous, you were stomping around like a six-year-old having a temper tantrum.”

“Fine, maybe a little,” acquiesced Raja, with a laugh. “You were really winding me up, though!”

Manila laughed as well, following the shift of energy between them into lighter territory. She twisted her fingers in the sheets on Raja’s bed for a moment, and sat up straighter, looking at Raja carefully. Raja’s green linen shirt draped elegantly over her tall, angular frame and it suited her nicely, despite the damp shoulders from her hair. A curl of interest announced itself in Manila’s core.

“So, uh,” said Manila, regretting her decision to wear sweats and wishing she’d at least tried to look nice. Raja’s expression was open, but her shoulders were a little stiff, almost nervous. Manila wanted to ease the tension, she wanted Raja to be comfortable around her again, and get rid of this stupid distance she’d built up between them.

Manila decided she was going to be brave, and asked, “Do you still wanna make out?”

Raja blinked in shock and then grinned and gave a happy little shrug, and said, “Yeah, totally.”

Before Manila could stop herself, before she could let herself think, she leaned in. Raja did the same, and shifted closer to her on the bed, pressing their legs together. Manila hesitated for a moment, the tension between them burning hot, more intense and awful than it had ever been, before Raja brushed her lips over Manila’s and they captured one another in a soft kiss. A high-voltage thrill shot down Manila’s spine, turning to instant, uncontrollable heat between her legs.

Raja’s confidence was contagious, and Manila kissed her back, tentatively parting her lips and tasting Raja with her tongue. Raja touched Manila’s waist, her other hand going to the back of her neck and tangling up in her hair. Manila’s body was taking over completely, the thrill drowning out her every doubt.

-

Raja was very pleased with how the morning had progressed so far, as Manila broke their kiss to push her down on the bed, a look of pure, unadulterated desire in her eyes.

“Oh, hello,” purred Raja as Manila straddled her, and Raja shifted a little so that she was at a better angle, her head propped up on her pillow. Manila lifted her hoodie up over her head, and the plain T-shirt undershirt underneath hiked up so that Raja caught a glimpse of her toned stomach before Manila threw the hoodie to the floor. Raja’s breath quickened, and she fumbled at the buttons of her shirt. She was so happy that this was finally happening, that Manila wasn’t angry with her and seemed quite interested in being more than just friends. There were so many fun directions this could go-

“Hi,” breathed Manila, leaning forward and quashing Raja’s efforts to get her shirt unbuttoned. Manila kissed her again, this time taking charge in a way that Raja found very sexy indeed. Raja caressed her waist through the thin fabric of her shirt. Manila stroked Raja’s still-damp hair, her hands exploring Raja’s scalp as they made out thoroughly. The smell of Manila’s lavender conditioner filled Raja’s nose.

Manila ducked her head, going for Raja’s neck. Raja sighed, gasping when Manila introduced her teeth to her skin. Oh, this was excellent, this was lovely. Manila was so much more than Raja had expected, and pleasant excitement filled her mind. Raja’s hands drifted from Manila’s waist down her back to grip her beautiful, muscular, college-logo-emblazoned ass.

Fuck yes.

Manila laughed quietly into her neck, pausing for a breath, and rolled her hips against Raja. Raja pushed her thigh up a little to give Manila something to grind on, if she wanted to. Even the hint that Manila was truly letting her guard down and trusting Raja like this was very exciting-

Manila breathed in sharply, her face still pressed into Raja’s neck, and rolled her hips again, and Raja felt Manila’s warm body through her thick cotton sweatpants. Raja took her opportunity and lifted her head slightly, kissing Manila’s neck in return, still gripping her ass and encouraging her to grind against her thigh.

“Raja-” breathed Manila as Raja kissed what must be a sweet spot. Raja couldn’t wait to learn all her sweet spots.

Manila sat back, pulling Raja with her so they were both sitting up, Manila still straddling her lap.

“Can I…?” murmured Manila, touching the buttons on Raja’s shirt.

“Yeah, for sure.”

Manila fumbled to undo Raja’s shirt buttons and Raja kissed her neck again. Now that they were sitting up, Raja touched Manila’s lower back and guided her to keep grinding on her thigh, since they were in an excellent position for her to do so. Manila bit back a little moan, visibly distracted from her task and it sent a tingle throughout Raja’s entire body. Manila was getting so hot and bothered already, and they were still practically fully clothed.

In fact, Manila’s hips were moving quicker now, rocking against Raja’s thigh, but she finished with the buttons and pushed Raja’s shirt back down to her elbows, then blinked with surprise.

Raja wasn’t one to wear a bra unless it was absolutely required of her.

“You can touch me,” whispered Raja, kissing Manila’s ear.

Manila did, gently palming Raja’s small breasts, and continuing to roll her hips. Now Raja could really feel the heat between Manila’s legs and let out a surprised half-moan herself as Manila caught her nipple between her fingers. Manila’s expression was hazy with lust, as she bit her lip and rutted down even harder, and Raja was almost surprised that Manila was so turned on by this minimal amount of contact.

“Is it okay if I-” said Raja, and touched the front edge of Manila’s sweatpants.

Manila nodded semi-frantically, and Raja went for it, reaching past her waistband to feel how gloriously warm and wet she was, even through her underwear. Manila moaned aloud, and ground down against Raja’s fingers and Raja, absolutely thrilled, slid her fingers inside her underwear.

Manila inhaled sharply at the skin-to-skin contact, rolling her hips hard and fast and clutching Raja to her. Raja decided to go for more, gently slipping two fingers past her folds and up into her soaking wet pussy-

“Oh my god, fuck-” managed Manila.

Manila’s back arched and her hip thrusts became erratic, quick, and she let out another barely suppressed moan, burying her face in Raja’s neck, panting hot breath against her skin, clenching around Raja’s fingers with a sudden gasp-

Suddenly Manila stopped moving, she pushed herself back. She flopped backwards off of Raja’s lap onto her ass and covered her mouth with her hand, eyes wide, her expression utterly surprised and embarrassed.

Raja realized what had happened.

“You are so into me,” stated Raja, unable to resist the urge to tease Manila for it, wiping her fingers unceremoniously on her sheets and laughing. “You came from just that? Really?”

“Don’t,” whined Manila, covering her face with both hands and curling up into a ball.

“We’ve barely been going for five minutes-”

“It’s just been a while for me,” complained Manila, her voice muffled behind her hands, “I’m sorry…”

Raja crawled over to her, taking her hands away from her face and kissing her.

“No need to apologize, you’ve got more where that came from, right?” asked Raja with a grin. The dull ache of Raja’s own arousal was still present between her legs.

“Yeah…”

“Great, hopefully this time I’ll get to actually take your clothes off.”

“Only if you ask nicely,” replied Manila dryly, sitting up. She looked slightly less embarrassed, pushing a few stray curls back out of her face.

Raja kissed Manila’s face again, unable to stop herself from smiling, smug. It seemed like Manila did actually like her, or was at least very, very attracted to her. Raja appreciated the vindication, and imagined the afternoon ahead. It looked like they’d be spending it here, making out and having sex, and taking a few breaks for food and weed, and that seemed most excellent.

“What do you want to do?” asked Manila. She reached out and hesitated, before running her fingers across Raja’s collarbone and then down her arm. Raja vaguely remembered her shirt, which was mostly off, open with the sleeves caught around her elbows. She took it off entirely. Raja was comfortable with her body and didn’t mind being naked, especially when it was making Manila so distracted.

“I want to…” began Raja, before shrugging, “Actually, I just want to roll a joint and share it with you, if you’re into that, and then eat you out for like forty-five minutes.”

Manila laughed and rolled her eyes, “Yeah, let’s get a little high, it won’t hurt.”

“It might even help you last longer…” teased Raja gently, not that she really cared. If Manila got off so quickly and easily, then Raja would gladly spend the entire day making her come over and over and over-

“Stop!” protested Manila, but she couldn’t help her smile.

-

Manila was so embarrassed that she’d pretty much finished immediately from the barest of contact like a desperate, touch-deprived lunatic, but luckily the feeling was fading. Raja didn’t seem to mind, despite her gentle teasing.

Manila had surprised herself more than anything. She was usually a bit… well, stiff maybe wasn’t the right word, but during hookups or sexual encounters she wanted to make sure she came off as sexy and fun, and that she did everything right. This was always particularly strong in her mind when she was with guys. But what was right was a vague and every-changing notion, a bit of a performance, kind of acting like girls did in porn except more chill, and trying to read what the other person liked and expected of her. It was difficult to relax. Certain walls always remained up.

But not today.

Today, Manila had completely melted the second her lips had touched Raja’s. Her body had taken over, unmitigated. Tasting Raja’s neck, grinding on her thigh, touching her skin and feeling her hard nipples, and Raja slipping her knowing fingers inside of her had made Manila feel so alive-

Maybe this was what it was supposed to feel like.

They had the entire afternoon ahead of them, so Manila lounged on Raja’s bed in her sweatpants while Raja got out a jar of weed and a grinder, confident and relaxed and wonderfully topless.

“Ugh, I left my rolling papers in the living room again,” sighed Raja, leaning over to give Manila a lingering kiss that sent a thrill right down her spine again, “I’ll be back.”

With that Raja got up and strolled across the room, opening her door-

“Don’t you need a shirt?” asked Manila.

“Nope.”

Manila laughed as Raja left and padded down the stairs. Her voice drifted up from the living room.

“Hey Delta.”

“Hey. So it’s a tits out kind of day?”

“Yeah, have you seen my rolling papers?”

“Over there.”

“Thanks! Did you hook up with that guy last night?”

“Yeah, and he was surprisingly good in bed-”

Manila tuned out the conversation, remembering her nice bra and wondering if she should just take her clothes off now and maybe fix her hair and find some way to recline on the bed so she’d look hot when Raja came back up-

But then Manila realized Raja didn’t care about that, and that really, she didn’t either. Manila lay back down on her side, breathing in the smell of Raja’s pillow. It smelled just like her hair, and honestly, Manila would be totally happy just to exist right here in this moment and never leave it. The voice in the back of her head chimed in, you know you still haven’t told her how you really feel-

“-yeah, she’s up in my room, I think we’re figuring it out.”

“Oh thank god! You’ve been stressing about that for ages. So that’s why you don’t have a shirt on…”

“Yeah, we might get kinda loud, so… sorry in advance.”

There was a smug evil to Raja’s voice, and Manila couldn’t help but feel smug as well. She imagined what exactly she could do to make Raja get loud…

“I was planning to go to the library anyway, bitch, I’ll send the bat signal to Carmen.”

Manila smirked at Delta’s sarcasm.

“Love you too!” sang Raja in response, and then Manila heard Raja’s footsteps on the stairs again. Her heart beat faster in anticipation. She should probably tell Raja about her stupid feelings. Raja had confessed her own, and while it was all still a bit vague, things were changing between them. Hopefully for the better.

Raja reentered the room, and flopped down on the bed next to Manila. Manila sat up and watched as Raja put a few weed buds into her little grinder and ground them up. Then she balanced a rolling paper in her palm, and carefully tipped the weed into it. Raja’s tongue darted out and wet the paper before rolling it into a cylinder, and something stirred in Manila’s core while she watched. Raja still wasn’t wearing a shirt, and Manila couldn’t help her eyes lingering. Of course this too was easy for Raja, she didn’t seem self-conscious about her body at all. Manila was always a bit in awe of Raja’s effortless confidence.

The joint was ready before Manila knew it, because when it came to weed Raja was nothing if not efficient. The sun outside broke through the clouds and streamed in through the thin curtains on Raja’s window, hitting the side of her face, and she was so beautiful that Manila’s breath hitched with disbelief. Raja brought the fresh joint to her mouth, grabbed a lighter from her bedside table and lit up, breathing in deeply with a contented sigh.

Raja passed Manila the joint with a suggestive smile, and Manila took it, putting the filter between her lips and drawing in a deep breath, the gentle smoke seeping deep into her lungs.

“I-” said Manila, passing back the joint and coughing, “I should probably tell you something.”

“Mmm, what?” replied Raja, taking another hit and leaning in, nuzzling Manila’s neck.

“Uh,” continued Manila, now very distracted by the feeling of Raja’s luxurious lips on her warm skin, the slightly smoky air and the joint that was now in her hands again. Did she even want to tell Raja she’d been idiotically in love with her for like two years? Would it ruin everything?

Manila took another pull and blew the smoke out into the air, while Raja kissed her neck and snuck her hand into her shirt, tracing her waist with delicate fingertips.

“I’ve actually,” whispered Manila, noticing with interest the way Raja had pressed herself into her side, her nipples getting pointy again, “I’ve actually been into you for a while.”

“Really?” purred Raja, without stopping what she was doing. It felt really good. Manila passed her the joint and Raja took it, turning away from her neck only momentarily to inhale the sweet smoke.

“Yeah,” said Manila quietly, desperately wanting to make it all a joke, somehow, worried her confession would completely freak Raja out. But maybe it wouldn’t. “I’ve kind of had a crush on you like since we met.”

Raja pulled back from Manila’s neck. But instead of laughing at her, or looking awkward and pushing her away, Raja’s expression was open and curious.

“No way,” said Raja, cocking her head to the side, “Even that time I got those fireworks from my dealer, and we accidentally lit that tree on fire?”

“Yeah?” replied Manila, confused. “I mean, Delta was the only one with the wherewithal to call 911, but we survived.”

“Even that time I spilled coffee all over your good white shirt?”

“Yes,” said Manila, flatly, recalling the incident. The shirt had never recovered. And the burn had hurt.

“Okay, but what about when I was too high in the grocery store a few weeks ago-“

“All of the times, Raja!” exclaimed Manila impatiently, practically squirming with the discomfort of having confessed her feelings, “Every dumb thing you did, I still liked you. So I, I don’t know, maybe that makes me the stupid one.”

“Nah, you’re like the smartest person I know, other than me,” chuckled Raja affectionately, taking another drag on the joint and exhaling the smoke slowly, so that it drifted up around her face, ethereal, “I’m learning so many cool new things about you today.”

“Well,” sputtered Manila, defensive and insecure, “I don’t know if it’s cool-“

“It totally is,” continued Raja, utterly confident, “Why didn’t you say anything before?”

“Because, you know,” shrugged Manila, taking the offered joint and hoping it would calm her down a little, “You obviously prefer casual hookups or whatever, and I couldn’t really stand being just that to you- I just didn’t want to have to say it was totally fine and chill if you didn’t like me back-” Manila paused with horrendous panic, “I mean, you do feel the same way, right?”

“Yeah, I-” said Raja, her face suddenly shifting into to an expression that normally appeared when she was trying really hard to beat Manila at Super Smash Bros, “Wait, so you thought I’d think you were too intense or something?”

Manila passed her the joint and looked away, already knowing that she was too intense, that her feelings were nothing other than a humiliating mess and always would be. Well, she thought wistfully, it had been nice while it lasted…

“Manila,” sighed Raja, and Manila looked back at her and Raja was smiling, and blowing smoke into her face, “I can’t predict like the entire future, you know with the Mars colonies and stuff, but I really like you. Maybe you like me a little more than I realized, but that’s good because I thought you weren’t into me at all. So like, it’s cool. Let’s just see where it goes?”

Manila nodded, as her heart beat faster and she felt herself blush. She supposed she’d just have to trust Raja, and herself.

“But you really fucked up with Raven when you two were dating,” stated Manila, unable to stop her doubts from surfacing.

“Well… ” said Raja, hesitating, and then she sighed, “Yeah, I did. The whole relationship thing was her idea and I went along with it because, well, I wanted things to be easy… but I should’ve found a better way to end it.” Raja paused, and took Manila’s hand, weaving their fingers together and squeezing, “I feel super differently about you, and about this. We’re friends first, right, before anything else.”

“Okay, yeah,” murmured Manila, plucking the joint, which wasn’t much more than a tiny roach, from Raja’s fingers and inhaling deeply, burning it right down to the filter. It seemed like Raja was genuinely on the path to some kind of self-awareness.

Manila reached around Raja to stub the end of the joint out in the decorative glass ashtray, and then let the smoke out through her nose with a giggle. Raja laughed along, and Manila finally began to feel the relaxed buzz under her skin. Getting high was nice, no wonder Raja did it all the time… Manila leaned in and kissed her again. Raja kissed her back, her hands going immediately to her waist again, pushing up under her shirt to touch her skin. Manila stroked Raja’s hair, and delicately held the back of her neck. Raja was already topless, but Manila was getting very interested in taking Raja’s shorts off as well…

They just had to trust one another, figured Manila, and maybe everything would be turn out alright.

-

Raja was happy and relaxed now that she’d had some weed and they were making out again. Manila had seemed stressed when she’d admitted her years-long crush, and while Raja was certainly a little surprised, more than anything she was pleased that her instincts had been right. It was making the strange new feeling in her chest glow a little brighter. But maybe that was just the weed.

“I want to take your shirt off,” murmured Raja. She’d seen Manila out running in her sports bra enough times to be real curious about what was underneath…

“Yeah, go ahead,” said Manila, moving her hand from the back of Raja’s neck down to her chest, running her thumb over her nipple in a way that sent a jolt of interest directly between Raja’s legs. She tugged Manila’s shirt up, and Manila lifted her arms and was momentarily caught with her shirt under her chin and around her elbows and Raja laughed at her and eventually they got it off.

Damn. Manila looked good, cute and toned and was wearing a suspiciously nice bra…

“You knew this was going to happen today, didn’t you?” said Raja.

“I might have suspected something,” said Manila with a smirk, sitting back on her butt as she easily tugged her sweatpants off of her legs.

“You’re so sneaky.”

“It’s my tragic flaw.”

Now that Manila was just in her underwear, the animal part of Raja’s brain kicked in. In an instant, Raja wanted to kiss Manila’s entire body, fuck her thoroughly, cuddle all night, move in and have a baby together, raise a bunch of feral kids and dogs, run a full-scale weed grow-op out in the country somewhere and just chill in the glorious California sunset until the end of time. Hmm. Raja decided that odd little fantasy was definitely just the weed talking, and took off her shorts and throwing them over the side of the bed, revealing her plain blue cotton underwear.

Now, that they were both pleasantly stoned and significantly more naked, things were starting to get interesting. Raja scooted closer to Manila, and ran her hands up her legs, letting out a weird gremlin-like giggle.

“You so don’t get to accuse me of being the horny one anymore,” chuckled Manila, taking Raja’s face in her hands and kissing her.

Raja sat back and pulled Manila into her lap, taking her time to kiss her. They explored one another, gentle and stoned. Raja stroked her way up Manila’s smooth back, her fingertips extra sensitive, and felt the band of her bra, reaching to undo it.

“Wait, don’t,” said Manila, and Raja’s hands stilled. Was something wrong? But Manila hadn’t pulled back, in fact she was pressing little kisses on Raja’s face, and kissed the shell of her ear in a way that sent a shiver throughout Raja’s entire body.

Raja dropped her hands to Manila’s hips and had a brilliant idea.

“Turn around,” suggested Raja into Manila’s ear.

“Mm, why?” replied Manila, shifting to kiss Raja’s neck.

“Because it’ll be fun…"

Manila laughed at her reasoning, and turned around so that she was sitting in Raja’s lap with her back to her. Raja immediately hugged Manila close, pressing her naked chest into her back and taking the opportunity to nip at her neck, eliciting a little yelp.

Raja ran her hand up Manila’s stomach touch her chest through her bra. Manila ’s breath hitched in response, and Raja took that as a positive sign, and reached up to ease her bra-straps off her shoulders.

“I don’t want to take my bra off,” stated Manila and Raja stopped again, trying to hide her disappointment.

“Do you not like being touched there?” asked Raja, momentarily nervous that she’d overstepped an invisible boundary, as Manila twisted in her lap to make eye contact.

“No, I like it, but,” said Manila, and hesitated.

“But?” asked Raja, in what she hoped was a gentle way, planting a little kiss on Manila’s shoulder.

“I just don’t like people looking at my tits.”

“Why not?”

Manila hunched a little, looking uncomfortable, and said, “Uh, this girl in middle school used to tell me they were a weird shape and I’ve kind of never gotten over it.”

Raja glanced down at Manila’s chest. Her breasts were contained in what was a truly nice bra and Raja found nothing weird about her body whatsoever.

“Well, fuck that bitch, she can die,” said Raja, in full seriousness.

Manila burst into laughter, “What, you’re gonna murder some girl from my seventh-grade gym class?”

“Yeah, what’s her name?”

“Jenny.”

“She sounds basic, I’ll shove her into traffic.”

“That’s very sexy of you but I’m still not taking my bra off,” chuckled Manila, blinking slowly. Her eyes were a little bloodshot, but her body was relaxed with trust again, leaning back into Raja. Raja wrapped one arm around her waist and squeezed her close. As badly as Raja wanted Manila to be fully naked, she respected her wishes.

“I went to alternative school on what was basically a gay hippie commune,” murmured Raja, gently kissing the spot behind Manila’s ear, and tracing her fingers down her stomach, “There wasn’t really bullying. We all made flower crowns, ate quinoa, studied beekeeping and Buddhist philosophy, it ruled.”

“No wonder you’re so weird…” sighed Manila, with a little gasp as Raja ghosted her fingers over the sensitive skin just above the edge of her black underwear.

“Yeah, but you like me anyway,” purred Raja, now running her fingers over the distinctly damp fabric between Manila’s legs and then kissing her neck again. Manila shuddered and let out a whine, the sudden note in her voice that reminded Raja of how easily turned on she was. “And so do most bees.”

Raja shifted a little so Manila was more comfortable in her lap, and Manila spread her legs and Raja stroked the inside of her thigh, moving slowly closer to her centre. Manila didn’t seem to know what to do with her hands, and after a moment of confusion she rested them on Raja’s arm across her waist.

“You’re like really hot, you have nothing to be insecure about,” murmured Raja in her ear, resting her head on Manila’s shoulder and wondering how she felt about praise and dirty talk.

Manila whined and arched a bit, trying to press into Raja’s hand. Then she turned her head, catching Raja’s mouth with her own in a sudden, intense kiss. Raja kissed her in return, and Manila reached back, tracing the back of Raja’s head and stroking her hair with a loose, exploratory hand.

“You’re definitely the hot one,” chuckled Manila, “But I really need you to start touching me, like right now.”

“Ask nicely,” purred Raja.

“Hmm…” hummed Manila, drawing it out, and then, her voice breathy and demanding, whispered, “Please?”

Raja’s own breath caught hearing her beg, and she immediately slipped her fingers past the waistband of Manila’s underwear, finding her clit in no time and stroking her with slow circles. Knowing how very sensitive Manila was, Raja went about her task with utmost delicacy.

Manila’s hand grasped into a fist in Raja’s hair on the back of her head and she arched her back and moaned aloud. It seemed she was lot more expressive after the weed and the conversation about their feelings. It sent electricity directly into Raja’s core, and she squeezed Manila to her with her opposite arm around her waist. Raja couldn’t help but increase her pace, Manila’s reactions were so exciting.

Raja slipped her fingers down lower, stroking experimentally over Manila’s folds to feel her utterly soaking wet pussy. Yes.

“Do you like this?” asked Raja.

“Yeah,” breathed Manila, tilting her head back to rest on her shoulder.

Raja slipped her fingers inside of her once more and Manila tried to rock her hips for more friction but Raja held her in place and began to move her fingers, agonizingly gentle, teasing and testing for the right spot that would make Manila lose her mind.

Raja found it, and Manila bit back a broken moan, her body jerking forward a little as she grasped Raja’s arm around her waist, her fingers digging in. Raja kept going, rubbing against Manila’s clit with the base of her thumb and pressing her fingers inside her, hitting the spot that made her react, again.

Manila panted and gasped, arching her back, and Raja kissed her shoulder. There was a sheen of sweat on her cleavage from the warm, sunlit room that Raja really wanted to lick, but she wasn’t in the right position to do so. Oh well. This was also very good, Manila’s wetness was dripping all over her hand as she gasped and rutted down with her hips.

“I’m- I’m getting close,” gasped Manila, digging her nails into Raja’s arm.

Raja then decided to something utterly evil.

Raja stopped, and slid her fingers out of Manila entirely.

“Wha-” panted Manila with desperate frustration as was she left on the cruellest edge, “Why are you-”

“Lie down on your back,” said Raja, letting go of her Manila’s waist, a plan forming in her mind.

“You are the worst-” complained Manila, and she shakily got out of Raja’s lap and crawled forward, giving Raja an excellent view.

“Have I ever told you that you have a fantastic ass?” commented Raja, shifting up onto stiff knees and cracking her neck in anticipation of the task ahead of her.

Manila glanced over her shoulder with a pouty, false-innocent look that set something inside of Raja on fire, and then she flopped down on her back, propping herself up on her elbows.

Manila looked so beautiful laid out like that that Raja paused for a moment just to admire her, the sheen of sweat on her chest, her messy hair, her blown-out pupils and the look of intense arousal on her face.

“Are we going to be here all day?” challenged Manila, pouting.

“Wow, someone’s a little brat,” teased Raja, leaning down and kissing Manila’s stomach.

Raja quickly hooked her fingers in Manila’s underwear and pulled them down her thighs as Manila lifted her hips to help. Then Raja lay down on her stomach between Manila’s legs and ran a finger over her wet, sensitive pussy, amazed by how turned on she still was. Raja couldn’t help but be flattered by the physical effect she had on Manila.

“When it’s my turn I’m going to make you suffer,” said Manila, but her threat was very much undermined by the broken moan that left her as she arched her back and bit her lip as Raja stroked her again.

“Ooh, I can’t wait,” smirked Raja, heady and pleased.

Raja ghosted gentle kisses around her thighs and her lower belly, and then laughed as Manila practically growled at her. But she wouldn’t make Manila wait much longer, Raja ran her tongue experimentally over her folds, the taste and sensation firing constellation-like synapses in Raja’s mind. Manila let out another whimper as Raja swirled her tongue around her clit.

Mmm, pussy.

Raja went to town, spreading Manila’s legs a little wider and adjusting the angle of her neck to stay comfortable. She built it up, keeping the rhythm on her clit with her tongue as she pressed her fingers up into the lovely wetness once more.

“This feels so good,” sighed Manila, and Raja flicked her eyes up at her expression. Manila’s cheeks had flushed pink, and she reached her hand inside her bra to play with her nipple, her eyelids fluttering momentarily with pleasure. She looked absolutely excellent, far more relaxed than Raja had ever seen her before.

Raja continued, building up her rhythm as Manila began to gasp and moan and roll her hips against Raja’s face. It felt so good to please her friend like this, the ache of Raja’s own desire still warm and insistent between her legs.

Raja hooked her fingers, finding her g-spot once again, and flicking her tongue over Manila’s clit, hard and rapid while Manila clenched her thighs and arched her back even more and moaned, pressing herself up against Raja’s face until Raja had to hold her firmly against the bed with her opposite hand. Raja steadily increased the rhythm on her clit, and Manila got louder and louder, cursing over and over, and moaning Raja’s name until Raja felt her movements get erratic, and her internal muscles clenched and-

Sudden liquid dripped out onto Raja’s hand, as Raja brought Manila through an orgasm so good it could move tectonic plates. Manila moaned pathetically, her breath heavy, clutching desperately at the sheets as she let Raja take care of her.

Someone banged on the door.

“Oh my god, Raja, this is excessive even for you-”

“Go away Carmen!”

“Sorry, Carmen,” called Manila in an unsteady, breathy whimper of a voice.

“Wait, you’ve got Manila in there? Congratulations, bitches!”

Raja laughed, and sat up, wiping her face clean on her loose shirt before flopping down next to Manila and curling in to her side. Manila propped herself up on one elbow and swallowed dryly, shaking her head, her eyes glazed over in amazed disbelief. She looked like she’d been thoroughly fucked, thought Raja with keen affection, along with immense satisfaction on her own part.

“Ugh, that was really nice, that was so good,” repeated Manila, rolling onto her side to face Raja, and Raja practically glowed with the praise, “But how do Delta and Carmen both already know about this?”

“I’m not great with secrets,” shrugged Raja, nuzzling Manila’s neck and cuddling up against her.

Manila didn’t respond, instead she cuddled back into Raja with a happy little sigh, shutting her eyes. There was nothing in Raja’s gently stoned brain but post-sex satisfaction. After a few minutes Raja sat up, tracing her finger down Manila’s body from her shoulder to her chest, then down the dip of her waist and up and rise of her hip.

“You’re a bit of a pillow princess,” teased Raja, with a smirk, “I’m not sure what I expected, but you’re such a bratty little bottom-”

“No I’m not!” protested Manila in offence, sitting up.

“Yeah, you are,” taunted Raja, with a what-can-you-do shrug.

“Bitch, I’m about to destroy you,” said Manila, stretching her arms over her head and cracking the knuckles in fingers intimidatingly. She gave Raja an evil smile that was only slightly off-set by her blissed-out expression.

Raja gulped, now regretting her choice to tease her friend. She knew Manila was competitive, but what beast had she awakened?

“Now show me where you keep your vibrators and get on your back,” ordered Manila, with a deliciously authoritative grin.

Raja’s heart leapt and the warmth between her legs, which had much been waiting for this moment all day, flared back to violent, excited life. She told Manila where the sex toys were and rolled onto her her back, pulling off her underwear and tossing them aside, so glad to be fully naked. Raja couldn’t wait to see what Manila could do.

Finally.

-

Manila selected a small purple vibrator from Raja’s extensive collection in the plastic bin under her bed, and sat back up. Raja lay out before her, stretching like a happy cat, a pleased expression on her face under her half-lidded, bloodshot eyes. Her body was beautiful, long and lithe with subtle curves. Manila couldn’t help but feel honoured that Raja was showing herself to her like this. A few days ago she’d have never thought this would happen in like, real life, outside of her fantasies.

The earth-shattering orgasm from a few minutes ago had been, uh. Phew. Manila’s body responded strongly to Raja’s presence, and she felt tired and a little faded. But the opportunity to please Raja in return was one Manila couldn’t pass up.

Plus, she kind of liked the whole bossy thing that Raja was bringing out in her.

Manila crawled on top of Raja and gently kissed her neck, holding herself barely an inch above her so that their bodies weren’t quite touching. All those abdominal workouts at the gym were proving handy. Raja’s neck tasted amazing, and she made a sound that was somewhere between a moan and a purr that Manila really really liked. Raja caressed her waist, and arched her back, pressing herself up into Manila, their skin practically tingling where it met.

“You’re so beautiful,” sighed Raja. “I’m like so lucky,”

Manila smiled to herself and then sucked down hard on the corner of Raja’s neck where it met her shoulder. Raja let out an undignified squeak and Manila bit her just a little, knowing she’d have a reddish purple hickie bloom on Raja’s light brown skin later, and Raja moaned and arched into her further, wrapping her arms around Manila’s back and holding her close.

Manila tried to make some more space between their bodies, but Raja wasn’t really letting her. But Manila managed to sneak her hand between their bodies, flicking on the vibrator, and slid it between Raja’s legs, which she spread eagerly for her with a happy sigh. Raja was incredibly uninhibited, and that only encouraged Manila, making her bolder. It was so freeing to be intimate with someone like this and not worry about judgement. Or maybe that was just the weed talking.

But Raja was moving against her, rubbing herself up against the vibrator pressed between them, tangling her hand in Manila’s hair as she kissed her neck. Manila couldn’t help but fantasize about what else they might do as she held the buzzing device against Raja, drawing her pleasure out, from lazily fucking all afternoon to maybe a few more hardcore things… hopefully involving strap-ons, she was fairly sure she’d seen something like that in Raja’s box of sex toys.

Manila shifted the vibrator to a slightly different angle and Raja whimpered into her ear. Manila moved it gently against her, and reached between them again with her opposite hand to toy with her nipple.

Raja seemed to really enjoy that, because she arched her back and moaned something incoherent, rutting against the vibrator. Manila shifted down so she could lick and suck on Raja’s opposite nipple, pinching the other one as Raja let out an exhilarated yelp, and clutched Manila close, pressing her fingers into her back and rolling her hips. Raja’s body lithe arched and her breath was heavy, and then she slowed her hips, with a final little twitch.

“Did that feel good?” asked Manila, as she stood back up on her hands and knees and clicked the vibrator off, tossing it aside. She couldn’t help but ask, she wanted the approval.

“Mmm, yes,” replied Raja, sitting up and kissing her lazily. “But I’m not done, I want more of you…”

Manila smiled, almost blushing at Raja’s raw, simple statement of desire. But then Manila had an idea, and she turned on her back, lying next to Raja, who cuddled into her instinctively. It was so cute that Raja was physically affectionate, both platonic and romantic in equal measure, just like the way she’d been with her since they’d started being friends, but now with a different energy.

“Get up and sit on my face,” ordered Manila.

Raja blinked at her, and then grinned and got up with a slight grunt, straddling Manila’s chest with her long, beautiful legs bent at the knee.

“Have you ever done this before?” asked Raja, looking down at her, her long dark hair framing her face.

Manila narrowed her eyes, trying to keep her gaze on Raja’s face and not just stare at her pussy, which was really very much in her line of vision. Instead she ran her hands up Raja’s thighs and gripped her hips, pulling her closer.

“A lady never tells.”

“Oh, so you’re a lady now?” chuckled Raja, brushing Manila’s hair back so that she didn’t kneel on it as she shuffled forward, holding herself just above Manila.

“I’ve done it a couple times, it’s not that hard, come on,” whined Manila, vaguely realizing that her vow to tease Raja and make her suffer wasn’t going very well at this rate. Somehow she’d ended up being the one begging, again. In the future, when Manila had gotten used to this and was a little more, uh, composed around Raja, Raja would be the one begging. Definitely. For sure.

But Manila had a lot more important things to focus on, as Raja carefully lowered herself onto her face and Manila tilted her head back slightly, and held Raja’s hips. For once Manila didn’t doubt herself, they were figuring all of this out after all, emotionally and physically, and had plenty of time to do so.

-

If Raja was the kind of person who felt embarrassment about sexual situations, she might’ve felt a little embarrassed sitting on Manila’s face right now, or even embarrassed by how badly Manila seemed to want her. Luckily, Raja didn’t really feel embarrassed about sex, especially when she had a little weed in her. So, she very carefully held herself in place, sitting down but not putting the entirety of her weight on Manila’s face. She really didn’t want to break her friend’s neck, and/or accidentally suffocate her, that would not be a fun way to end the afternoon.

Manila lapped gently at her folds, quickly locating her clit and swirling her soft, velvety tongue around it. Raja exhaled through her nose, pleasure mixing with the hazy sensation in her mind, her aroused body quickly shifting back into gear. Mmm, Manila was so soft…

Okay, maybe she was a little more than soft, because she holding Raja’s hips very decisively, and encouraging her to rock against her. While Raja definitely didn’t want to hurt her or put on too much pressure the temptation to move was really strong. So Raja did, just a little.

Vaguely aware that she her own bodily juices were dripping all over Manila’s face and chin, Raja leaned forward slightly try to get a grip on the wall, her palms flat out.

“Is this- are you okay?” asked Raja, the shake in her voice giving her away as a a ripple of pleasure went through her body.

Manila nodded, confidently wrapping her arm around Raja’s thigh and pressing her in even closer.

“Mmh-” managed Raja, grinding slowly against Manila’s nose and mouth as Manila flicked her tongue against the delicate, tender skin around the entrance of her pussy, before pushing her tongue up inside her.

The wall wasn’t giving Raja much support, her sweaty palms were slipping and she didn’t know what to do with her hands. But this felt so good, the precarious feeling like she was unravelling. Manila’s lidded gaze flicked up to meet hers, and Raja was sure her face must have been ridiculous, her mouth open, panting and desperate with pleasure. Manila’s gaze was mischievous. Damn it.

A moan escaped Raja, and she wondered if it was the weed that was making her hyperaware of her hands right now, as Manila slipped her tongue in and out of her, building her up, and Raja ground herself on Manila’s face, hoping she wasn’t hurting her, babbling, “This feels so good, I- oh my god, fuck, Manila-“

This only seemed to invigorate Manila further, as she sucked on her clit in a way that made Raja’s eyes roll back in her head, as she felt the slick of sweat on her back. Raja slumped forward, and her hands managed to find the low board running across the head of her bed, which she’d forgotten about until this moment. Raja gripped it with one hand to make sure she wasn’t putting all her weight on Manila, and looked down again.

Manila’s beautiful hair was all shoved up behind her head to keep it safe from Raja’s knees. Raja tangled her hand in the beautiful black curls, the texture practically alive under her extra-sensitive fingertips. Manila somehow managed to nod that that was okay, and it electrified Raja even further and the entire world could have been burning and Raja wouldn’t have noticed, gasping as the pleasure wound higher and higher and her entire body tensed and unravelled.

After a several long moments of white-hot pleasure and astral-projection into outer space, Raja blinked and shuffled off of Manila, shivering from the aftershocks. Manila blinked, and turned her head to the side, cracking her neck. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, attempting to clean up the combination of Raja’s slick juices and her own saliva that was all over half of her face.

“Is your neck okay?” said Raja, her voice weak as she slid down next to Manila to cuddle. “Also, you might need a towel.”

“Yeah, my neck is fine,” replied Manila smugly. “Did I destroy you?”

“Yeah, you really did,” sighed Raja, pressing her face into Manila’s neck and breathing in, “I knew this was going to be awesome.”

Manila laughed quietly and kissed her cheek.

“I think we should have a nap,” whispered Raja, hazy relaxation taking over her limbs, “Then a snack, and some more weed, and then we can make out again later. Do you want to stay?”

“I have that research assignment I should be working on…” replied Manila, but she didn’t make any effort to get up, instead she reached over to the other side of the bed and grabbed the end of Raja’s blanket, pulling it around them both and snuggling in, “…but a nap sounds nice too.”

Raja couldn’t help but smile, slipping her arm around Manila’s waist and holding her close as she relaxed into a a gentle doze.

They’d finally stopped joking and dancing around each other, and it felt really, really good.

-

“I’m like so happy you rescued me from the grocery store that time a few weeks ago,” sighed Raja, reflecting on how it had all began, and passing her joint to Manila, who was tangled up in her lap on the living room couch.

After the excellent sex-filled afternoon a week ago, and several more conversations about feelings and boundaries, Raja and Manila had arrived at an arrangement of casual dating. They’d both just handed in major assignments and as such, were taking a break from the endless deluge of schoolwork to chill out. The relationship so far was great, relaxed and low-pressure enough for Raja to feel comfortable, but intentional and committed enough to suit Manila’s needs. Raja hadn’t felt this way about anybody else before, and was still working out what it meant, if anything. But more importantly, they were being honest with each other, and that was very sexy, and things felt really fucking good.

“Ha,” chuckled Manila, inhaling and blowing smoke back into Raja’s face, “Anytime, Raja. You’re a ridiculous human.”

“No, you are,” said Raja affectionately, kissing her ear and then moving a little lower to gently nuzzle her neck.

“They’re disgusting,” stated Delta from their left side, with a smile at the edge of her mouth as she played Super Smash Bros with Carmen, “I knew this would happen.”

“Yeah Raja, you’re so embarrassing,” laughed Carmen from their right side, leaning forward with the controller, and competing with Delta on the screen. Manila laughed along with her, and poked Raja’s side, teasing her.

“Aren’t you gonna fight her for my honour or something?” whined Raja to Manila in complaint.

“Nope,” chuckled Manila, kissing her cheek.

“You’re right, they’re terrible,” complained Carmen to Delta, but she accepted the joint that Manila passed to her anyway, with a smile.

Something interesting stirred in Raja’s stomach at Manila’s casual threat and she cuddled her a little closer, already excited to head up to her room later.

“We should make some ground rules,” stated Delta, jabbing at the controller, “No sex on the couch, for example.”

“Yeah, we already broke that one,” said Raja, with an evil grin.

“Oh my god, the couch is communal!”

“Wait, this couch?” demanded Carmen, mildly disgusted, glancing down at the cushions she was sitting on.

“Do we have another one?”

“No…”

“Okay, let go of me,” said Manila, gently removing Raja’s hand from around her waist and leaning forward, reaching for a controller. “I’m gonna join the melee.”

Delta and Carmen finished up their round as Manila got set up, and Raja reached past Carmen’s back to the side of the couch for some chips. Mmm, salt. Raja didn’t particularly feel like playing video games today, she just wanted to keep smoking and relax, but she didn’t mind if her friends did so around her. She shuffled so that she was sitting with her legs open with Manila between them, leaning forward. Manila’s body language was focused, and her thumbs moved rapidly over the joystick and the letter buttons, her grip was confident on the plastic controller.

Without needing to ask, Raja gently took Manila’s hair out of it’s ponytail, and carded her hands through it. Manila gossiped back and forth with Carmen and Delta, letting Raja gently weave little braids into her hair while they fought and trounced one another on the screen.

An easy, affectionate feeling came over Raja, one that was both familiar and new, glowing in her chest. Raja wondered vaguely if it was just the weed talking, again.

No, Raja realized as she heard Manila laugh and smiled to herself, this feeling had nothing to do with weed.

It was love.

#rpdr fanfiction #rajila #raja gemini #manila luzon #lesbian au #college au #smut #fluff #everybody knows you're high #dartmouth420 #tw weed

[thran-duils]

Watch Me Burn (P.7)

Title: Watch Me Burn (Part Seven) Summary: Fem!Reader x AU!Cas. Fem!Reader x AU!Sam. This fic was inspired by both parts of “Love the Way You Lie” by Eminem & Rihanna. Castiel and the reader are toxic for each other and keep falling back together until the reader moved away. It’s been years and now she is back home, waltzing back into Castiel’s life. She is determined to do better this time, to make them work, but outside forces as well as the scars the two have left on each other weave their way into their reconciliation. Will they be able to overcome the past and new threats to their sustainability? Words: 3,076 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Extreme angst, domestic violence, smut, unprotected sex, dom/sub dynamics, BDSM trust breaking, fluff, language, alcohol abuse, !!! eventual !!! happiness

Chap 6 || Chap 8 || Fanfic masterpost || Masterpost (mobile)

Sam walked in with Dean and you locked eyes only briefly before turning your gaze back to Castiel.

“He’s here. Longer hair,” you said quietly, barely audible above the music. Castiel threw a glance in his general direction and cocked an eyebrow. “I know, I know.”

“He’s coming,” Castiel warned you quietly, before saying at a normal volume to not arise suspicion, “This should be a fun night though for you guys.”

Suddenly, Sam was at your side. He had switched his jacket out for a button up cardigan over his dress shirt, his tie gone. It made him stick out in this bar, but you knew that was his attempt at dressing down.

“What are you ordering?” he asked you, leaning in close. You guessed he was purposely ignoring Castiel; he was good at making people feel invisible.

Castiel was staring at Sam, a piqued expression that only you would be able to recognize. It was not exactly a tight-lipped smile but close to it.

“Uh, I haven’t yet. I was just talking to Cas,” you said, gesturing at him standing opposite the bar.

Turning his attention to Castiel, Sam gave a nod of acknowledgment. “Sam,” he said, holding out his hand. “Worked with Y/N back in Austin.”

Castiel, thankfully, knew to play it cool. He reached out, taking Sam’s hand in turn, giving it a shake. The two of them held on a couple seconds longer than necessary, eyes piercing the other.

“I’ve heard,” was all Castiel said calmly in return.

You did not miss the slight raised brow Sam displayed at Castiel’s comment, no doubt wondering how much Castiel knew. He brushed the comment off quickly though.

“What are you going to order then, Y/N?”

“Probably a double whiskey with diet,” Castiel answered for you, throwing you a small smirk. He picked up the glass and went to work without waiting for you to confirm. It was your go to, that was correct. But you knew he was trying to prove a point to Sam by not even asking you. He knew you better, he wanted Sam to know that.

“Hmm. Whiskey,” Sam said surprised, rising his brows in surprise. “Far different than all the Paloma’s I’ve seen you down. Too many too count.”

Castiel snorted, drawing Sam’s attention. “What? Was she trying to get wasted? Y/N can’t handle her tequila very well.” He placed your whiskey in front of you.

Giving a small nervous laugh at their surreptitious shots at the other, you said, “Yeah, that’s true. But I paced myself.”

“Sometimes,” Sam quipped. You narrowed your eyes slightly at him and he chuckled. “Sorry. Right, you never got drunk. Ever.” He winked at Castiel across the bar. “I’ll take a Tom Collins.” You made a disgusted face and Sam chided you, “Yeah, yeah. I know. You hate gin.”

“Thanks,” Sam told Castiel. “I’ll see you at the table then, Y/N.”

Sam turned and left your side. When you met Castiel’s eyes again, he cocked a brow.

“I have a lot of questions,” he told you before walking off to take someone else’s order. You waited for him to return after a few minutes and cut in quickly.

“I know, I know. He’s pretentious.”

“You could say that again. What is he even wearing?”

You laughed a little and said, “That is him – and Dean, to be honest – trying to be casual. I can assure you.”

“So… not what I would expect from you.”

“There’s probably a reason why it didn’t work out.”

“I can think of a couple reasons, actually,” Castiel responded, throwing a glance over at where your coworkers were sitting.

Snorting, you nodded in agreement, “I know.” You took a drink of your whiskey and raised your glass half heartedly to him. “Here goes nothing. I can’t promise he will behave himself, but I’ll do my damndest to stay away.”

“Don’t think that’s possible with the seating arrangement at the table now. Looks like the only empty seat is next to him,” Castiel said sounding sour.

“Of course,” you muttered, turning around, and seeing what he said was true. You forced yourself to walk towards the table.

Playing it cool, you thanked Sam when he pulled the chair out from beside him to allow you to sit down.

“I ordered a couple of baskets of fries for the table and some deep-fried pickles,” Charlie informed you. “I told everyone that the burger is solid but if they are looking to be adventurous, that tater tot pizza is also good.”

“How much did you eat last time you were here?” Dean asked jokingly.

“Oh, shove it. I’ve been here a couple times with Y/N. It wasn’t all in one shot,” Charlie returned. “Thankfully, they live upstairs and I was able to crash on the couch one time! Don’t judge me, Tara, it was on a Friday!”

Tara held up her hands, “I wasn’t going to. I know you’re responsible.”

“Upstairs?” Sam questioned you.

You nodded, “Yeah. The floor above. It’s convenient.”

“Very,” Tara agreed and then asked, “But, do you not get sleep sometimes?”

“It’s fine most of the week. Fridays and Saturdays are a little wild, but I’m used to it. It’s nothing new. I’ll finally fall asleep in the early morning and can sleep in.”

“I would indulge so much in bar food, I would probably gain fifty pounds,” Charlie joked.

“Same,” your coworker Sahir agreed, raising his glass to which him and Charlie took a quick drink.

“I make sure that doesn’t happen. I meal plan,” you assured her. “It’s one thing I had to set right when I moved in. He was eating like absolute shit. I told him no one really likes quinoa, but his body will thank him.”

“Ew, gross,” Charlie said, her nose scrunching. “I hate quinoa.”

“It’s a power food, Charlie,” Sam told her.

“Don’t care.”

“I gotta agree with Sam and Y/N. Although, still with you, Charlie. I don’t like it but sometimes you gotta suck it up and play chess, not checkers, with your health,” Tara chimed in.

“Exactly!” Sam agreed. He turned his attention to you and asked, “You still on that 5 on, 2 off?”

He was referring to the exercise program you had been on while in Austin. One that he had strongly encouraged to get yourself in shape, something that was extremely personally important to him. You knew you could never be as fit or healthy as him and had tried to please him for a while.

Shrugging, you said, “More like… 3 to 4 on… maybe one of those days being yoga only. To keep flexibility.” Charlie snorted into her drink and you cocked your head. Sahir and Jennifer laughed as well and you demanded, “What?”

“Just… I make everything sexual,” Charlie laughed.

“Jesus, Charlie,” Tara said, but smirking despite herself.

Charlie apologized whilst laughing.

The food was delivered, more drinks, and even more jokes shared. Sam was leaning in close the whole time, his eyes roaming freely and Castiel was most certainly keeping an eye on you across the bar. You tried to stay straight up, not leaning yourself towards Sam while still maintaining a calm demeanor. Sam, outwardly, was not seeming to notice.

Your attention was drawn to the door as you saw Aspen walk in and you suppressed the urge to roll your eyes. All you needed tonight was her flaunting herself around Castiel when you were already high strung. You knew it was normal for her to go to the bar for a drink, but you knew it was Castiel she was aiming for.

Sam’s arm slipped around your shoulders, drawing your attention back.

<> <> <>

“Hey, Cas,” Aspen chirped, leaning on the bar.

Castiel greeted her and asked how she had been since he had not seen her since the first night Y/N had come back. He was not surprised considering the air in which she had left in.

Holding out her credit card, Aspen said, “My regular, I think, to start out.”

When she looked back was the moment Sam’s arm slipped around Y/N’s shoulders. He pulled her towards him, close in proximity. Aspen rose her brows in surprise and looked back at Castiel who was placing her drink down in front of her.

“Wow, uh, who’s with Y/N?”

Castiel’s gaze moved over to the table and his jaw tightened when he saw Sam’s arm around her. Y/N was forcing a smile as she spoke to him.

“Coworker,” Castiel answered tightly.

“Oh…” Aspen trailed off, throwing another look over her shoulder. “All of them coworkers?”

“Yes.”

“They close…?”

Castiel pierced her with a stare and said, “I’m assuming you want your tab open?”

Aspen switched gears, nodding. “Yep. I’ll be here awhile. Maureen agreed to drive me home… if need be.”

“How kind of her,” Castiel chuckled lightly, purposely ignoring her insinuation.

<> <> <>

“Remember when Larson fell down those stairs outside The Outlook?” Sam asked you, his fingers pressing into your shoulder.

“Unfortunately,” you answered, smiling, trying to keep yourself from jerking away from his embrace.

“You tried so hard to get him to stop drinking. I mean, we all did. But it did fuck all to stop it.”

“Was he injured?” Dean asked, raising his brows.

Sam laughed, “Surprisingly, no! I don’t know how he just tucked and rolled, like his body was reacting defensively even in his state. The man could barely order a new drink. And that’s when the bartender was like, ‘nope, no more’. And cut the whole group off because they were afraid someone else would order him a drink and give it to him. Ruined our whole night. Well, momentarily.”

You stiffened then. That night was the first night the two of you had hooked up. That was the sole reason he had brought it up.

“The night continued after that for the rest of us after we got his drunk ass to bed.”

You noticed Castiel approaching the table. Thinking he was going to table touch, you asked Charlie quickly, “You want a refill?”

“Duh,” she said and then noticed Castiel. “Oh, hey! Perfect! Can I get a refill?”

Castiel gave a curt laugh and said, “When I get back. I’m on break. Y/N? Wanna come outside with me?”

“Oh, yeah,” you said quickly. You saw Sam watching you out of the corner of your eye as you pushed your chair back, his arm leaving you, and grabbed your jacket. “Don’t you need your coat? It’s chilly.”

“I’ll grab it on the way out,” Castiel responded as you came up to him. His arm slipped around you, guiding you away from the table. His hand was tight on your waist, protective.

Castiel did not take you outside. Instead, he led you to the back room and you followed his lead, a weight pulling down inside. You knew he was not pleased with how he was acting. As soon as he closed the door behind the two of you and locked it, he turned to face you. Getting in your face, he did not miss a beat.

“He’s been laying his hands on you all night.”

Throwing your hands out in defeat, you said, “I’ve tried skirting away, Cas. I can’t do that too much without making a scene though.”

“You’re not trying hard enough.”

Your mouth fell open.

<> <> <>

“Charlie,” Maureen greeted approaching the table, two shots in hand as Tara, Sahir, and Jennifer went out for a smoke.

Charlie straightened up, a smile on her face. “Oh, hello! Maureen, right?”

Maureen nodded and said, “Just spotted you across the bar and thought I would pop by to say hi. We did have a good few rounds last time!”

Smirking, Charlie said, “I kind of remember.” This caused Maureen to laugh, as well as the other people at the table.

“I just thought I would bring this over for you. Rum, right?”

“Oh, yeah. You got that for me?” Charlie asked surprised.

Maureen nodded, “You bought me one last time and I did not reciprocate. I hold pretty strong convictions about that. Speaking of which, I saw Y/N and Cas leaving out the back. He’s not off work yet, is he? He still owes me a shot since someone spilled mine at last call last time I was here, and I won’t be able to cash in without him.”

Charlie shook her head, “No, he went on his break and asked Y/N to go with him.”

Maureen snorted, “I wouldn’t be surprised to see them come back flush.”

Sam’s jaw clenched ever so slightly.

“They always had their ways in the past.”

Charlie let out a laugh, “Oh, do tell.”

“Just leaving to go… relieve themselves.”

“Maybe we should not pry into our coworker’s business,” Sam advised Charlie sharply.

Charlie stumbled a little at his change in demeanor, “Oh… right.”

Maureen smirked at Sam and said, “It’s not quiet business in this bar. Castiel has owned this bar for years… him and Y/N are old news. Them being back together scared a lot of people. It was a nightmare half the time to be honest. But… they seem to have grown up. Sigh of relief there.”

Sam straightened up at this comment. “How do you mean?”

“Just drunken fights, a couple cop calls. Break up, break off. They were young and stupid. Can’t say I wasn’t the same myself.”

Charlie was the one now becoming uncomfortable for her friend. “Oh, well… I mean, the past is the past.”

“The past does inform the future,” Sam quipped, and Dean nodded in agreement.

<> <> <>

You snapped, “I told you what happened between us and where he stands in my company. He’s not just some… schmuck! He’s a junior partner!”

Shaking his head, Castiel said, “Junior partner or not…” He trailed off, beginning to walk forward, forcing you to go backwards. “He needs to know where you stand with me! You apparently need to be reminded too.”

Castiel turned you around in a swift movement and pushed you chest first into the wall, pinning an arm behind your back. You gasped his name, trying to look back at him but he kept you firmly in place.

“I am just reminding you who you belong to,” he growled into your ear.

Your breath shuddered, feeling his hands grasp the hem of your dress, yanking it up to your hips. Slipping his fingers into your underwear, he stroked your lips.

“I pay attention to you, Y/N. I treat you right,” Castiel breathed as he played with your sex. “I dote on you, angel. Don’t I?”

“Yes, sir,” you answered.

You keened as he worked you up, fingers slipping inside to caress you. You pressed back against him, begging for more. His grip tightened on your wrist, holding you more firmly in place and you stilled your movement, following his direction. You stood there, letting him rile you up, biting your lip.

“Look at you… so needy,” he said breathlessly. You could hear the want in his voice, feel his fingers move more freely, coated in your arousal. He leaned forward to be closer to your face. “Are you needy, angel?”

“Yes, sir. Only for you,” you told him obediently, giving him pleading eyes.

Castiel kissed your temple and praised, “I know, baby.”

Pulling away, his fingers left you to pull your underwear down and you kicked them off in tandem. His cock slid in easily in your wet folds. He sighed in content, his hands gripping your waist as he fully seated inside you.

“That’s my girl,” he purred.

His fingers dug in as he drove into you, taking you against the wall. You stayed sturdy, holding on. He drove up sharply into you again and you bit down on your cheeks.

Kissing up your neck, Castiel demanded, “You gonna do better for me? Let them know who you belong to?”

“Yes,” you said.

“Angel, don’t make me have to work harder for this,” he warned, his breath hot on your neck.

“Yes, sir.”

“Mhm, you’re not saying that with too much conviction. You’re too quiet,” He squeezed your nipple hard, causing you to keen loudly before burying your face into the wall, fingers digging in beside you. “We can do better than that, can’t we?”

His fingers closed in around your jawline, pulling your head to the side, you following his movement obediently. He wanted your mouth exposed, your noises to be heard.

You nodded quickly, saying louder, “Yes, sir!”

Castiel drove deep and quick, bouncing you against the wall. “I know you can do better. You’re so beautiful. I love hearing you scream for me.”

“I belong to you!” you declared, knowing damn well anyone walking outside the room could hear the two of you. He was jeopardizing his place of work for this. What rumors would fly of people being railed in rooms in the bar. “Fuck me, please! Let me cum!”

Castiel laughed, nipping at your ear. “Angel, you can’t help yourself, can you?”

His speed increased, his hand falling from your face to come to your nub, circling fervently. He praised you, laying sloppy kisses along the side of your head. You whimpered as you came undone beneath his hand, your legs shaking with your orgasm. Castiel held you upright, allowing him access to finish himself.

Panting, you settled against the wall, basking in the coolness of it against your hot skin. Castiel pulled away eventually, leaving you exposed behind. The cool air was welcome, and you continued resting to regain your grounding.

When you had the strength, you reached for a roll of paper towels to clean yourself up. And then pulled your underwear back up, straightening out your clothes.

Turning to face him, you found him looking well put together again, beside his hair. He was trying to tame it, running his hands through it.

He eyed you and informed you, “I’m not losing my temper with him because I know how much you love your job and how important it is to you.”

You took this in, nodding. He was telling you this for a reason. In the past, he would not have hesitated to make a scene without care for consequence.

Coming closer, he cupped your face, pulling you in for a long, deep kiss. “Now that we’ve got that out of our system… we ready to go back out there?”

~~~

CASTIEL FOREVER TAGS: @willowing-love @perseusandmedusa @greenappleeyes @afanofmanystuffs @earthtokace @shikaros-blog @marisayouass @splendidcas @stixnstripesworld 

#castiel x reader #spn fanfic #supernatural fic #sam winchester x reader #my shit

[eternalstereksecretsanta]

Jingle Balls

captainpettie | AO3 | Merry Christmas! I hope you enjoy your gift and have a wonderful Christmas and New Year. 

Rated T for some language.

A Sterek fic wrapped up in a big Christmas bow. Stiles and Derek are rival bookshop owners, but that might change when Stiles finds Derek alone on Christmas Eve.

“Why is Derek Hale outside?”

Stiles’ head snapped up, bashing against the shelf above him.  He swore, loudly, and dropped the stack of books he was holding so he could cradle his skull, wincing as he straightened from his crouch.

From her perch on a chair a few feet away, balancing precariously with one foot on the back of it so she could reach the ceiling, Allison raised a slightly judgemental eyebrow at him. 

“Don’t rush,” she teased, tone mild. 

Stiles grumbled, rubbing the knot of pain on the top of his head as he approached the front of the store.  Derek Hale was outside, hands shoved in his coat pockets as he glared at the front of Stiles’ bookstore.  For a second, it looked like Derek was scowling through the glass windows at Stiles, which wasn’t actually that unusual, but then he realized Derek was looking at the huge Christmas tree Stiles and his staff had spent all morning setting up in front of the windows.  Sure, it wasn’t the classiest of Christmas trees; it was kind of gaudy looking, with bright, twinkling lights casting multicolored hues onto the glass, and way too much tinsel.  But Stiles thought it looked great.

Stiles folded his arms, frowning.  Derek rarely ventured this far down the street.  He seemed to get hives just being in the general vicinity of Stiles’ store, which was fine, because Stiles always took the long route home so he didn’t have to walk past Derek’s sorry excuse for a bookstore. 

He glanced over at Scott.  He was pouring a drink for a customer in the Coffee Corner, but he was watching Stiles, waiting to see how this played out.

Finally, Derek snapped his gaze away from the tree and marched towards the door, pushing it open; the bell that Stiles had installed above it chimed a tinny version of Jingle Bells and Derek’s head shot up to glare at it, appalled.

“You’re letting the cold in,” Stiles snapped.

Derek let go of the door, letting it shut with a clatter loud enough to echo through the store.  Several customers looked up, startled, and Stiles narrowed his eyes as Derek approached him.  He stopped right in front of Stiles, but his gaze was elsewhere, taking in the whole bookstore.  Specifically, the Christmas decorations that Allison, Kira and Danny were still hanging up. 

It had been expensive, but it was Stiles’ first Christmas since he opened Hobbit Hole in January and he was overwhelmingly happy of its success, so he’d gone all out on decorations.  Mistletoe, stars dangling from the ceiling, tinsel, strings of Christmas lights, a mini Christmas tree in the Coffee Corner, stockings and wreaths, little gingerbread men and elves and Santa and reindeer statues.  There was a book igloo and Santa’s Grotto in the children’s section and Scott had come up with some amazing festive drinks and baked goods.  It was a little much, maybe, but Stiles thought it looked nice; bright and twinkly and festive.  He could just imagine how warm and inviting it would look from the street now the nights were drawing in so early and the weather was cold and due to snow.  Plus, the Christmas period would mean lots more customers wanting to buy books, especially for children, so jazzing it up to make it look festive and fun would make people want to buy them from his store.

And it was Christmas.  He loved Christmas and he loved the decorations, so Derek and his disgruntled expression could suck his jingle balls.

Derek’s gaze landed on Stiles’ sweater.  Stiles crossed his arms over it protectively, then dropped them again, because he was proud of this year’s Christmas sweater.  It had Chewbacca wearing a Santa hat with Christmas lights wrapped in his face fur.  It was cool.  All of his staff were wearing Christmas sweaters too; he didn’t have a uniform.  He didn’t like them.  Scott, Allison, Kira and Danny were his friends, so they could wear what they wanted, and the vibe worked with the sort of store Stiles owned, so customers didn’t really care.  But they’d all agreed to wear Christmas sweaters.

“What,” Derek demanded, “Are you doing?”

“Christmas decorations, Derek,” Stiles replied slowly. “I don’t know if they celebrated Christmas in whichever lab you were grown in, but most people like to put up festive decorations in December.”

“It’s the first.”

“Right, of December,” Stiles said. “Ergo, decorations. What do you want, dude?”

He watched Derek grind his teeth, barely biting a smirk.  It usually took a little more needling to get Derek this irritated, but he knew Derek hated the word ‘dude’. 

Gotcha, he thought smugly.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Scott shake his head slightly, but he kept his gaze on Derek, staring him down.  Patience wasn’t really his thing, and keeping quiet and still definitely weren’t either, but he waited Derek out, knowing it would annoy him even more.

So he was petty.  Sue him.

Finally, Derek grit out, “The power will be out on Thursday. They’re doing works.”

Stiles frowned slightly. “I know?” he said, confused. “They sent me the exact same letter, Derek. Every business on the block got it. I’m gonna close the store for the day.” He paused. “Wait, what, are you visiting every business on this street to tell them? That’s…surprisingly social of you, are you feeling okay?”

Derek’s expression turned to thunder. “I just wasn’t sure if you could read,” he said, tone dripping with sarcasm, and he turned, marching towards the door.

“That’s not even a decent insult, Derek!” Stiles called after him. “I own a bookstore.”

The only answer he got was the door slamming shut, rattling in the frame from the force of it.  Stiles craned his head to watch Derek storm off down the street, then threw his hands up, walking over to the Coffee Corner. 

“That was weird,” he said, leaning on the counter to watch Scott carefully stack some cups. “That was weird, right?”

“Maybe he just wanted to see you,” Kira said with a smile as she walked past, a long bit of tinsel dangling after her.  The bells on her reindeer antlers jingled with each step.

“Right,” Stiles said, scoffing slightly. “Yeah, actually, I wouldn’t put it past him to come in just to annoy me. He acts like he owns the world’s highest horse, but he’s just as petty as me, I know it.”

Scott shook his head slightly, a smile tugging at his mouth.

***

It wasn’t like Stiles had intentionally opened Hobbit Hole on the same street as another bookstore.  It just kinda…happened.  It was just the logical choice, economically and geographically; it was the best sized building for his store without being charged an indecent amount of rent for the space, and it was only a fifteen minute walk from his apartment, so he didn’t have to rely on his not-so-trusty-these-days jeep to get him there every day. 

Plus, it was on one of the main streets in town, so it was where the most foot traffic was.  More people would see his store.  And it was a pretty street.  Everything just kinda came together and if there happened to be competition on the same street, well…that wasn’t really his fault.  Besides, he’d seen loads of independent stores selling the same things on the same street, some even right next to each other.  At least there were six other stores between him and Derek.

So he’d figured it wouldn’t a big deal.

Except Derek Hale, the owner of Hale Books – and what kind of boring, lame-ass store name was that? – was kind of a dick.  An antisocial, stuck-in-his-ways dick.  He hadn’t even bothered to hide his disdain when he saw Stiles’ store, with its vibrant front and awesome hobbit hole themed sign – which Danny had spent ages designing for him, so Derek could shove it – and bright, modern interior.  He’d looked appalled at the children’s section with its chaos of tiny plastic chairs and crayons and puzzle books, rolled his eyes at the comic books section, looked irritated at the section full of gifts, board games and stationary, and downright disgusted at the tiny coffee shop. 

It was everything Derek hated in a bookstore.  It was sacrilege against the sanctity of books and traditional bookshops.  It was the exact opposite of Derek’s own store and he hadn’t even bothered to bite back his snarky remarks about it when they’d first met.

Derek Hale was handsome.  Frustratingly so.  Everything he did was attractive, or, worse, adorable.  Even when he was glaring at him, Stiles had to admit, it was a gorgeous glare.  But his appreciation for Derek’s…everything had pretty much gone out of the window when they first met and he realized how much of a jerk Derek was.

And, hey, he wasn’t exactly a fan of Derek’s store either, with its bland name and bland store front, its cramped shelves filled with old, dusty books, and the complete lack of anything modern or comforting, like wifi, or coffee, or, you know, staff.  Derek ran it by himself and how it kept going, Stiles had no idea, because he was pretty sure there wasn’t a single book in there that had been published in the last decade and Derek himself wasn’t exactly warm or inviting.

They were the exact opposite of each other.  Derek hated Stiles’ loudness, his confidence, his vocabulary, the way he moved his hands when he talked, his stupid jokes and his smirk and his insistence that modern was the way forward, trampling over anything traditional about bookstores.  Stiles hated Derek’s arrogance, his quiet disdain, his snobbish, stubborn, stick-in-the-mud attitude that he was right and his way was better, he hated his refusal to even acknowledge that Stiles’ bookstore worked for a lot of people, and he hated how attractive Derek was because sometimes it made him hard to focus on how much he loathed Derek’s scowl.

So they resolved to ignore each other, pouring that rivalry into trying to better each other’s sales.  Stiles was pretty sure he was winning on that front, but Derek definitely had his loyal customers, and there usually was a decent, steady flow of people going in and out.

Not that he was watching Derek’s store.

Obviously.

The few times they did interact were to bug one another, winding each other up until they snapped and argued, and, inevitably, a door was slammed. 

Stiles didn’t really get why he let it go on.  Pettiness, definitely, and his own stubborn streak that made him determined to win this ridiculous rivalry. 

And maybe, if Stiles was being honest, there was a small part of him that liked having Derek’s focus completely on him, if only for a few, heated minutes.

***

Stiles didn’t see Derek for the rest of the run up to Christmas, though that small, petty part of him did hope that Derek could hear the Christmas songs Stiles played all day every time the door opened.

He didn’t get much time to think about Derek, though.  He was rushed off his feet every day, either running around helping Christmas shoppers find what they needed, or on his feet behind the counter for hours serving customer after customer, or helping Scott out in the café. 

It was good, their sales were through the roof, and Stiles couldn’t be happier.  He loved Christmas and he loved sharing his love for books and the festive period with both his friends and with the people who came into the store.

But he was also incredibly tired.

By the time Christmas Eve rolled around, he was ready to sleep for a month.  His feet ached, his eyes felt hot and heavy, and he just wanted his bed.  He’d sent the others home early; he was closing the store at four instead of eight, but since no one was really coming in anyway, he’d let them go to enjoy Christmas Eve. 

Stiles didn’t mind being on his own for a couple of hours.  He was spending Christmas Eve alone in his apartment, since he wasn’t driving to his dad’s until tomorrow morning.  He read, mostly, keeping himself awake, and served the occasional customer who rushed in looking for a last minute gift.  At four, he flipped the sign on the door to closed and locked up. 

He cleaned and tidied, switched off the lights, and went into the small staff room to grab his stuff.  It had been snowing heavily over the last few days, so Stiles had started wearing his boots to work and switching to his more comfortable sneakers once he was inside.  He dropped down onto the couch to swap shoes, but the second his body hit the comfy, slightly overstuffed sofa, exhaustion seemed to crush him to the spot.

He let his body tilt sideways, curling up on the couch, and closed his eyes.  Just for a moment. 

He woke with drool crusted on his face and eyelids that felt glued shut from sleep.  He grimaced, rubbing at his face until he felt a little more human, and pulled his reluctant body up until he was sitting.  The lights in the staff room had shut off automatically, the only light coming from the street, casting a hazy yellow glow into the room.  Snow was dancing down outside and Stiles yawned, fumbling until he found his phone to check the time.

10pm.  He groaned.  The walk home would be cold and wet and he’d just about have time to grab some food before catching some more sleep. 

He stood, switching his shoes for his boots, and bundled up in his winter gear, grabbing his bag.  He left, locking the door behind him, and stepped onto the sidewalk, immediately sinking ankle deep into the snow.

It was dark and silent.  Everyone was at home, in the warmth, enjoying their Christmas Eve.  Not even a single car trundled past.  It was peaceful and almost comforting, actually.  It kind of felt like magic in the air.

He started to turn to the right to start his walk home, but something caught his eye.  All of the stores were dark, the owners having closed up and gone home, except for one.  A dim light inside spilled out onto the sidewalk, making the snow almost glitter.  Stiles knew, of course, exactly which store it was, and he urged his feet to keep going right, to just walk home.

Instead, he found himself pulled towards Hale Books.  He told himself that he was just going to check Derek hadn’t left the lights on or, like, fallen and brained himself or something and lifted his chin slightly, doing his best to believe it as he stopped outside of the store.

He immediately saw Derek.

He was sat on a stool by the counter, completely enraptured in the book in his hands.  The lights had been dimmed to be less intrusive, casting the store in a soft, hazy glow.  It looked warm and inviting, Stiles had to admit.  Derek looked warm and inviting, wearing a burgundy sweater with freaking thumb holes, his face soft and relaxed as he read. 

Stiles yanked his gaze away. 

The sign on the door still said Open.  Stiles stared at it for a moment, then glanced back at Derek.  A tiny little smile pulled at his lips as he read.  Stiles had never seen Derek smile before – not a real one, anyway; the smiles he saw ranged from sarcastic and disdainful to simply faking it to be polite to customers, and while incredibly handsome, it was just a little too sharp, too painful, almost, to be believed – and for some inexplicable reason, it was the sight of it that made Stiles finally step forward, pushing open the door.

A bell – a normal one, unlike Stiles’ festive monstrosity – chimed softly as he stepped inside.  Derek quickly shut the book and looked up, his polite how-can-I-help smile (like broken glass, Stiles thought, exhaustion fogging his brain, broken edged, damaged) morphing to a look of irritation when he realized who it was.

“What do you want?” he asked.  His tone lacked its usual snap, though.  Instead, he just sounded tired.

“What are you even doing open?” Stiles asked, bewildered. “Dude, its ten o’clock on Christmas Eve.”

Derek looked away, placing the book he’d been reading onto the small counter.  He shrugged. “Figured I’d stay open. There’s always some idiot running around looking for last minute gifts.”

“Yeah, not at this hour, buddy,” Stiles said, shaking his head.

Derek kept his gaze fixed somewhere over Stiles’ shoulder. “Yeah, well, I don’t mind. I don’t have anyone to spend Christmas Eve with, so.”

Rivals or not, Stiles’ heart ached.  He gazed at Derek for a few minutes, unsure of what to say, but when he did finally open his mouth, he realized he’d made his decision the second Derek had spoken.

“Cool, well, I’m not spending Christmas Eve with anyone either, so…” He worded it carefully, not spending it with anyone as opposed to no one to spend it with, not wanting to make Derek feel like a pity party, or like he was being pandered to. 

He took off his hat, shoving it into his bag with one hand and running the fingers of the other through his hair as he sat down on the stool. 

Derek stared at him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“C’mon, man, you can’t kick me out on Christmas Eve. Where’s your Christmas spirit?” Stiles replied, offering his best wide eyed look.  When Derek just frowned at him, he added, “Don’t be a Scrooge, dude.”

“Don’t call me ‘dude’,” Derek said.  He was obviously aiming for exasperation, but his tone ended up sounding more resigned, and Stiles grinned in victory as Derek sat down on the other stool.

He watched Derek pick up his book again and resolved to be quiet.  After just a couple of minutes of silence broken only by the occasional turn of a page, Stiles started to fidget, foot tapping on the bar of the stool, fingers twitching on the counter.  Derek lifted his head slightly, shooting him a glare, and Stiles held up his hands, getting back to his feet.

He walked around the store, peering at the shelves.  Derek’s store was a lot smaller, but the shelves were more cramped with books, so it took a while.  It was a lot more neatly organized than Hobbit Hole, though.  He pulled the occasional book out, flicking through it curiously, before returning it carefully to its place.  He caught Derek watching him a couple of times and figured Derek was worried about him creating a mess, so he was incredibly careful not to.

Eventually, he made his way back to the counter. “It’s so cold in here,” he said. “Don’t you have heating?”

Derek wordlessly pointed to a cast iron dinosaur of a radiator.  The heat it emitted barely touched the cold air a few feet away from it and it looked about two seconds away from dying completely.

“What the hell is that?”

“A radiator, Stiles,” Derek replied impatiently.

“Yeah, but…outdated, much? Wait, what am I talking about, outdated is practically your middle name.” Stiles said, then widened his eyes and held up his hands when Derek’s gaze snapped up to him. “No, sorry, that was offensive, I know. I just…jeez, aren’t you cold?”

Derek paused, fingertips idly stroking the spine of his book, and Stiles had stop watching because the sight made his traitor of a body tingle.

“A little,” Derek admitted. “It’s usually warmer than this, but the heating keeps going off today.”

Stiles frowned. “Right, we’re going to my place.” Derek raised an eyebrow and Stiles absolutely did not go red, not even a little bit. “My store, Derek.”

Derek looked like he’d swallowed something sour. “Why?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Stiles griped, grabbing his bag and hat again. “My store gives you hives, it’s a disgrace to the sanctity of bookstores, etcetera, etcetera, but I’m cold, you’re cold, and my store has a heating system that didn’t become obsolete in the sixties and hot drinks. So whaddaya say?”

He expected Derek to put up more of an argument, or even just outright refuse and kick him out, but to his surprise, Derek just nodded, getting to his feet.

“Wait here.” He disappeared through a door behind the counter.  When he returned, he was bundled up in a coat, hat and scarf, even gloves, soft looking knitted grey ones.

Adorable, Stiles thought, the jerk.

He hovered as Derek switched everything off and locked up, then lead him down the street, back to his own store.  He opened the door and quickly switched off the alarm as he ushered Derek inside, locking the door again.

Derek found a seat in the Coffee Corner as Stiles flicked on all of the lights and turned on the heating.  By the time he’d made two hot chocolates – extra marshmallows for Derek, he looked like he needed it – and carried them to the table, the store was warm enough for them both to shed their outdoor layers.

Derek looked at his mug for a moment, then wordlessly popped a marshmallow into his mouth.

“So,” Stiles said, after a minute of silence ticked by. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Derek said nothing.  He glared at the mistletoe hanging above the coffee counter like it had personally offended him. 

“It looks like one of Santa’s elves threw up in here.”

Stiles barked a surprised, pleased laugh. “Well, merry fuck you to you too, Derek.”

Derek’s mouth twitched slightly and he folded his arms, leaning back.  Stiles filled the silence by slurping his hot chocolate.  Derek just watching him, 100% judging him, but he didn’t say a word.

“You really don’t like Christmas, do you?” Stiles said, voice soft.

Derek glanced at the tree, watching the lights twinkle for a moment. “I used to.”

There was so much grief and longing in those three words that Stiles knew, instantly, that he needed to drop that line of conversation.  He searched around desperately for something to say that would ease the horrible, heartbroken look on Derek’s face, but before he could blurt anything out, Derek spoke again.

“My family,” he said, pausing for a second to gather himself before continuing, “The store was my mom and dad’s. They opened it shortly after they got married. Me and my siblings, we grew up running around the bookshelves and reading the books in the corner when mom or dad were busy with customers.”

Stiles could imagine it, a tiny Derek with skinned knees and gapped teeth and a mop of dark hair, tucked under a table reading, lost in his own little world.  He smiled. “That’s nice.”

“They died.”

Stiles’ ribs constricted. “Derek…”

“All of them, they died. There was a fire. I came home and they were gone. All of them.” Derek bit out the words, the pain it took to say each one of them clear on his face. “I was the only one left. Just me. That’s why I’m spending Christmas alone. There’s no one else, not anymore.”

Stiles’ heart hurt.  He reached out, resting his hand on Derek’s forearm, just wanting to take that pain and grief and longing that was on Derek’s face, to feel it so Derek wouldn’t have to.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

Derek’s mouth turned up slightly into that jagged, bitter smile. “Yeah,” he said quietly.

“No,” Stiles said, almost urgently. “I know everyone says that. I know how much it makes you sick to hear it after the hundredth time. I know. But…I am. My mom…she died when I was a kid. Cancer. I know it’s not…I know what you went through…it’s different, I know that, but I get it, and no one deserves to go through that. I’m sorry.”

Derek stared at him for a long second.  Just stared.  His eyes glittered with unshed tears and his lips parted slightly, and he just looked, straight into Stiles’ eyes, stealing Stiles’ breath. 

“Thank you,” he said, finally, voice quiet and rough.

Stiles realized he still had his fingers curled around Derek’s arm, that he’d leant in and was gazing into Derek’s eyes, and he cleared his throat, pulling back with a soft smile.  He looked down at his hot chocolate, swirling it so the marshmallow shifted around on the surface.  It didn’t hit him until a few minutes later.

Because of course.  He was such an idiot.  An insensitive dick of an idiot.

 No wonder Derek didn’t want to update the book store.  If everything had burned…god, it was probably the only thing of his family he had left.  Of course he kept it just the same, of course he was so determined to run it the way he did, to keep it open and successful.  He’d want to do it for his family, to make them proud, to keep them alive, in some way.  That store and the memories it held was his last link of his family.  Why would he ever want to cover that up with new paint and new books and new…everything?

“Shit,” Stiles said. “Shit, Derek, I’m sorry.”

Derek looked at him, questioning, brow furrowed slightly.

“The store,” Stiles clarified. “Your store. I get it now. I was such a dick. I’m sorry.”

Derek’s mouth twitched up slightly.  It wasn’t exactly the real smile that Stiles had only glimpsed before, but it was close. 

“I don’t think your store is that bad,” he admitted, and Stiles’ eyebrows shot up. “It’s…not my kind of thing, but I can appreciate it. It works. And,�� he added, his expression turning wry, “I have to admit, the heating and hot drinks is a perk.”

Stiles laughed, cradling his mug in his hands, feeling inexplicably happy. “Can I get that in writing?”

Derek rolled his eyes, but it was amused rather than irritated, and Stiles practically beamed at him.  They finished their drinks quietly and Stiles stood, gathering the cups to take them to the counter.  Derek followed, offering to help clean up, but Stiles waved a hand.

“I’ve got it,” he said, glancing over, then paused.

Derek tilted his head slightly. “What?”

Stiles’ gaze flicked upwards before he could help it and Derek followed it, looking at the mistletoe that hung above their heads.  He felt his cheeks heat up and his belly fluttered and he cleared his throat, looking back at Derek.

Who was watching him, a soft expression on his face.  He smiled and there it was, that realness, and it took Stiles’ breath away. 

“I…” he started, then stopped, swallowed, continued, “I should wash these up.”

Derek nodded, stepping back slightly.  Stiles moved behind the counter and focused on washing up and cleaning the hot chocolate machine.  He took his time, making sure everything was clean and tidy – exactly as Scott had left it – before joining Derek back at the table.

They talked for a while, about books and Christmas sales and how much it had snowed this year, and eventually Stiles lost track of what they were even saying, he was so tired.  His head drooped onto his arms on the table and, between one breath and the next, he was fast asleep.

When he woke, he was alone.  The lights had been switched off, but the heating was still on.  Derek had found the blanket from the staff room and draped it over Stiles’ shoulders.  Stiles’ heart felt huge and warm.

He stretched, spine popping after sleeping in such a cramped position, and checked the time.  It was gone midnight.  Officially Christmas.  Instead of being tucked up in bed, belly full, ready for Christmas with his family, here he was, but he didn’t regret anything, not even slightly.

He put the blanket away and bundled up.  Derek had locked up behind him and posted the keys back through the letterbox with a little note.  Stiles picked it up, reading the smooth handwriting with a smile.

Merry Christmas, Stiles.

 ***

Stiles found himself thinking about Derek a lot over the next few days.

He wondered if Derek was spending Christmas day alone too and the thought made his heart ache.  He wondered if Derek was eating good food, or opening thoughtful gifts, or spending time with people who cared about him, and he wished he’d thought to ask him about his plans.  The idea of Derek spending the day alone was horrible.

He went back to work after Boxing Day, but he was too busy with the flood of customers redeeming their gift cards or exchanging gift to visit Derek’s.  He had to wait until the day after and he left home earlier than usual.  He knew Derek usually opened his store an hour earlier than Hobbit Hole.

At this hour, it was pretty quiet.  Stiles only encountered people rushing to grab coffee or breakfast before work.  It was snowing, not as heavily as the last few days, just little cold flakes fluttering around Stiles and spreading a thin blanket on the ground.  Hale Books was lit up, casting a warm, inviting glow into the dark winter gloom, and Stiles stepped inside into the welcoming warmth.  The heating was finally fixed, then.

The first thing Stiles noticed was that there was something different, but it took him a second to plate it.  There.  There was a little table by the counter with a coffee machine on it.  Stiles laughed, stepping closer, and saw there was a sign written in big capital letters stuck to the machine.

FOR STILES’ USE ONLY.

Something warm and happy expanded in Stiles’ chest.  He reached out, touching the coffee machine with a smile.  After a moment, Derek cleared his throat, drawing Stiles’ attention to where he stood behind the counter.  He wordlessly pointed to the ceiling and Stiles looked up. 

There was a single sprig of mistletoe hanging above the counter.

When Stiles looked at Derek, he was smiling at him, that soft, beautiful smile, and Stiles grinned back.

He had a feeling his New Year was going to be wonderful.

#eternalstereksecretsanta17 #esss17 #sterek #fic #submission

[letswreakhavoc]

Room of Requirement

DAY FOUR of #SanversWeek: Hogwarts AU. Contained in this fanfic is some sweet sanvers first time hogwarts sex. It was surprisingly easy to write.

@404artnotfound i will continue to shout out olive because she’s literally the best.

[Read on AO3]

There aren’t a lot of places in this god forsaken castle that you can be alone.

Actually, that’s incorrect.

There aren't a lot of places in this god forsaken castle that you can truly be alone. Down every corridor, in every classroom, in the library, the bathrooms, the dormitories, there is someone- or something- waiting to interrupt them. In even the darkest, least frequented hallways there are ghosts roaming around, looking to cure their paranormal loneliness with a conversation, or a painting of some old wizard who, despite his intense denial of the fact, comes across a little bigoted.

And Maggie is all too aware of this fact. She’s all too aware because for three and a half months, her and Alex have only managed to slip hands under t-shirts before some first year, or some ghost, or some pestering painting alarms the crap out of them with an out of the blue reprimand. And seriously, getting scolded by the portrait of an ex-potions teacher from the 1400s with a frightening resemblance to Maggie’s homophobic great aunt is a real mood killer.

And Maggie just really wants to fuck her girlfriend.

And Alex just really wants to fuck her as well. And she’s vocal about it.

“God fucking damnit, Kara.” Alex groans, pulling her hands out of Maggie’s robes and beginning to fix her own. Kara groans, hand clamped over her eyes until Alex tells her they’re both decent, and ready to be seen by innocent eyes.

“Sorry, I just really need help with my potions homework and Winn is busy blowing stuff up with Lena… so they’re actually both busy and James has to photograph the quidditch teams today for the headmaster. He told me you guys were down here- not that like he saw or anything he just said he saw you head this way- so I came looking for you because Professor Slughorn is driving me mad with this homework and-”

“Kara.” Alex cuts her off, sighing in exasperation, and in love. “It’s alright…”

Maggie shoots Alex a compassionate glance as she tries desperately to quell the arousal in the pit of her stomach.

“We can both help you out, Little Danvers.” Maggie turns on Kara then. If you’re ever short an ice cold bucket of water, your girlfriend's little sister is a good bet.

“Why were you guys making out down this dark hallway anyhow?” Kara asks innocently, skipping ahead and walking backwards to face them as they chat. Alex rolls her eyes, throwing an arm over Maggie’s shoulder as they trudge towards the library.

“Because we can’t get any privacy in this castle.” Alex answers her bluntly, and Kara giggles, then frowns, then faux gags.

“Gross, guys.”

“Hey, I didn’t say anything. Your mind just went there.” Alex teases, pulling Maggie in to kiss at her temple. Maggie smiles and laughs along, pretending that her proximity to Alex isn’t making her… situation worse.

“Too much time with Lena, I think.” Maggie jumps in on the teasing, and Kara shoots her a scandalised look of feigned shock.

“Excuse me. I am the epitome of innocence.”

“I’ve caught you sneaking out of the Ravenclaw tower more than once.” Maggie points out, pointing to her prefect badge with a sly grin and Kara huffs loudly.

“Yeah well we weren’t doing that…” Kara makes a disgusted face. “The dorms are full of people.”

“And that is precisely our problem, kid.” Alex mutters under her breath, forgetting a moment about Kara’s super hearing. Maggie flushes, grinning with the knowledge that Alex wants her just as much as she wants Alex.

“There are heaps of places you guys could do… that.” Kara tilts her head in thought and Alex laughs and shakes her head.

“Well, not comfortably and we want… to be comfortable for our first…” Alex flaps her hand, cutting herself off. “Why are we talking to my kid sister about this?”

Maggie throws her head back and laughs. “Because we’re desperate and horny.”

“Still here, guys.” Kara sighs out before shushing them as they enter the library. Alex greets a few of her friends from Slytherin, and Maggie and Kara do the same with their friends from Hufflepuff before reaching their usual study spot in a secluded back corner. Kara quickly spreads her textbooks and supplies out before dropping into a chair with a loud huff and groaning quietly.

“Exams are going to kill me.”

“Not if I don’t first for continually interrupting us.” Alex mutters again. Kara rolls her eyes and she holds up her hands in surrender.

“Alright, let’s get this over with.”

It’s a slow moving hour of carefully working through all of Kara’s potions homework before she runs off to join Winn and Lena for pre-dinner (something that only Kara actually partakes in because of her black-hole of a stomach), leaving Maggie and Alex alone at the table. A quick glance around the library tells Maggie that there are very few people left in here. Most had packed up and left for dinner, leaving only the tired fifth years studying for their O.W.Ls with heavy bags under their eyes.

Alex seems to have noticed the same thing, as their eyes meet at the same time, and not a second later, so do their lips. Maggie is almost in Alex’s lap when they are interrupted by the sound of paper slapping down on the table behind them.

“We’re sorry Profe-” Alex goes to apologise to whichever teacher is about to tell them off, but when she looks up she finds Lena.

“I thought you went to pre-dinner with Kara, Little Luthor?” Maggie asks, shifting away from Alex and back into her own chair.

“I’m about to but I wanted to help you out.” She responds with a cheeky grin, tapping her index finger on the folded piece of parchment on the table. Her tapping draws both pairs of eyes to the item.

“What’s this?” Alex asks curiously, leaning forward to inspect it. Lena pulls out her wand and rests the tip against the centre of the parchment, where two folds meet and takes a deep breath.

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”

Maggie’s eyes go wide as ink splashes across the parchment until it forms into something recognisable.

“This is the marauder's map. I’ve read about this.” Maggie mutters in awe, leaning forward to inspect it. Lena nods with a small smile.

“My brother had it, left it for me.” Lena explains quietly, and Maggie and Alex know not to ask. Lex Luthor was a sore topic around Hogwarts, and Lena truly wanted nothing to do with her family name. “Have you heard of the room of requirement?”

“Yeah but I thought it was lost.” Alex jumps in, frowning. “No one could find it.”

Lena flips open the map wordlessly, unfolding the parchment until she can point her wand at a random section of hallway.

“The door is here. If you’ve heard about the room, then you know how it works?” Lena asks, dropping her voice when a group of students walk past. Alex nods and Maggie shakes her head.

“You basically walk past it three times and focus on the thing that you need, then the room will open and provide it to you.” Alex explains excitedly, beginning to catch on to just what Lena is trying to do for them. “Then the door disappears behind you.”

“I’m sure neither of you should have any trouble focusing on what you need. You could cut the sexual tension between you with a knife…” Lena grimaces and wrinkles her nose.

“So…” Maggie drawls, smile forming at the corners of her mouth. “If I pace past this wall three times thinking of a bedroom, I’ll get one?”

Alex nods.

“And the door locks behind us…”

Alex nods again.

“Luthor, I could kiss you.”

“Please don’t.” Lena laughs, picking up the map and folding it back up. She places it down on the table and taps her wand against the centre again.

“Mischief managed.” She mutters, and the ink begins to bleed away from the page, leaving a blank piece of parchment behind. She picks it up again and holds it out to Maggie. Alex frowns as Maggie thanks Lena again when she takes the map and practices activating and deactivating it.

“Why do you know about this, Luthor?” Alex asks, eyes narrow. Lena looks her straight in the eye.

“Your sister and I aren’t nuns, Alex.” She deadpans. After a few moments of shock, Alex groans loudly and Maggie cracks up laughing, drawing the attention of the few students left in the library. They’re shushed by the professor on duty and Maggie quickly sobers enough to pat Alex’s head in sympathy.

“So, to avoid awkward run ins when leaving and entering…” Lena continues, ignoring Alex’s death glare. “I think whoever has the map has use of the room.”

Alex pretends to gag, dropping her head to the table in disgust. Maggie continues to stroke her hair comfortingly, but she’s too grateful to Lena to care what her and Kara get up to in their spare time, if only a little miffed that they kept this to themselves for so long.

“How do you mean?”

“So if myself or Kara have the map, we know that we’ll be the only ones going in and out of the room. If either of you have it, it’s you guys. I don’t particularly want to run into either of you if Kara and I are about to have-”

“Please stop.” Alex whimpers against the wood of the table, holding one palm up to make Lena stop talking.

Lena nods, leaving her sentence unfinished as Maggie nods decisively.

“And when it’s not in use, we can hide it somewhere we both have access too so we don’t have to come and ask each other for it.” Lena grimaces at the thought, shaking her head a few times.

“Sounds good to me, Luthor. Now…”

“You can have it. For the love of god,” Lena starts, backing away from the table. “Resolve some of this tension before you come to dinner and turn us all off our food again.”

“It was one time.” Alex grumbles as Maggie begins to drag her out of the library behind Lena. When they are all out in the corridor, Maggie wastes no time in activating the map and dragging Alex off towards the staircases.

“Have fun, you two.” Lena calls after them, laughing when Maggie responds with a hearty ‘oh, we will’.

Maggie gets herself pushed up against two walls, and Alex lands on a total of three before they even make it to the correct corridor. When they’re standing facing the blank section of wall, Maggie grabs Alex’s hand and squeezes.

“You good? We don’t have to-”

“Nuh-uh, we’re doing this.” Alex deadpans. “I’ve been perpetually turned on for weeks. If you’re good, this is happening.”

“I’m good.” Maggie offers immediately.

“Great, then can we hurry up and open the room before we end up fucking in this hallway.”

Maggie laughs and lets go of her hand, walking away from Alex to begin pacing the length of the wall. “I don’t think the ghosts will appreciate that.”

“Then hurry up.” Alex groans, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

Maggie gives Alex a cheeky two finger salute before focusing on the floor in front of her feet. She focuses on what she wants. Not just four walls and a bed, but something romantic. It was going to be their first time, after all.

She paces the length of the hallway once, twice, three times, before returning to Alex and watching the wall expectantly. First what seems to be a small hole in the wall appears, but as the seconds pass, the hole grows and grows until it turns into a large full sized, ornate door. It clicks open ominously and Alex and Maggie share a slightly alarmed look before they step forward.

Maggie enters first, with Alex clutching onto her hand behind her. The room is a stark difference from the cold, stony hallway they left behind. The floor is lined with a plush, beige carpet and the walkway to the bed is scattered with rose petals. There are candles scattered around on the sparse furniture, giving the room a soft warm glow. In the centre of the room, pressed against the back wall, is a large ornate, wooden framed bed with a canopy overhanging the mattress.

“Wow.” Alex breaths as she takes in the room, and Maggie hums her agreement. She had asked for romantic, but she hadn’t expected anything so extravagant.

“It kind of looks like the set of some cheesy porno.” Alex says, and Maggie turns to grimace at her in shock. She’s met with a teasing look however, and she shoves Alex’s shoulder playfully.

“Very funny. Trying to turn me off?”

Alex doesn’t respond except to step into Maggie’s personal space, bumping her nose gently against Maggie’s and smiling. She closes the gap slowly, giving Maggie every chance to back away if she wants. She does not, however, and they find themselves kissing gently, but fiercely as Alex backs Maggie towards the bed. Dragging her hands under Maggie’s robes, she pushes the heavy material from her shoulders and throws it to the side. Her hand next find Maggie’s yellow and blue tie, loosening it with deft fingers before it joins Maggie’s robes on the floor.

Alex’s robes follow a similar course, ditched somewhere along the way to the bed, though Maggie leaves her green and silver tie loose, but still around her neck. When Alex pulls away long enough to look at her questioningly, Maggie only responds by grabbing the tie and pulling Alex back into the kiss by her neck. Alex makes a noise of recognition in the back of her throat.

“You’ve got a tie thing, huh?”

“I’ve got a thing for you in a tie…” Maggie grins into the kiss as she continues to guide them further into the room.

When the back of her knees hit the mattress, Alex’s hands reach out to pull the canopy apart so that she can press Maggie down onto the bed.

She litters Maggie’s jaw and neck with kisses and coaxes her further up onto the bed until she can lay her head gently onto the big white pillows. Alex straddles her, settling her wait gently across Maggie’s waist as she sits up to pull the tie over her head, and then reaching for the buttons of Maggie’s blouse.

“May I?” She asks breathlessly, receiving a jerky nod in return. The rest of their clothes come off in a hazy mess of awkward, fumbling limbs and a few breathless laughs as they try to get used to their bodies like this.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” Maggie breathes when Alex settles back against her hips, wearing only her panties, legs on either side of her waist.

Alex reaches down to kiss her gently, running her fingertips lightly up Maggie’s sides and over the swell of her bare breasts, towards her collarbone.

“Looked in a mirror lately, Sawyer?” Alex hums against her skin, trailing her lips along Maggie’s jaw.

Rolling her eyes, Maggie just shakes her head and lets her hands run down Alex’s sides, slipping her thumbs into the waistband of her panties.

“Can these come off?”

“Only if yours do too.”

“I think I can manage that.”

The last of their clothing is lost to the floor, and Alex finds herself now straddling one of Maggie’s legs, the muscles of her thighs tensing deliciously against her centre. She swears into the skin of Maggie’s neck as her hips begin to roll just right. Maggie has one hand in her hair, and the other on her breast, her thumb rubbing maddening circles on her nipple, and Alex feels like she is on fire, and she wants Maggie to feel the same.

Little adjusting is required for Alex to press her own thigh against Maggie’s centre, grinding gently against her clit and earning herself a low moan.

“Good?” Alex asks breathlessly, her hips stuttering of their own accord as the pair build up a rhythm together.

“Perfect.” Maggie gasps and then moans when Alex’s thigh hits her clit just so. Their bodies interlock perfectly, as they grind against each other, working towards a release they’ve been waiting weeks for.

She can feel the way Alex’s thigh is slick against her now, and her own thigh slick against Alex and god, how is it possible to feel this good without the use of magic. Alex is panting and moaning into her ear, pressing fleeting kisses into her skin and running her fingertips softly along the swell of her breast. Maggie takes her hand out of Alex’s hair, scraping her nails gently down her back before taking one of Alex’s hands and pressing it harder against her breast, palm against her nipple.

“Fuck, Alex.” Maggie moans loudly at the new pressure, and it only spurs Alex on to do the same with her other breast. The stimulation is almost overwhelming, ano Maggie is suddenly hurtling towards an orgasm without much power to stop it.

“God- fuck. Alex I’m-”

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” Alex whispers against her lips, kissing her chastely as she cums loud, cums hard against Alex’s thigh. Feeling Maggie unravel beneath her is enough to push Alex over the edge too, and she grinds harshly into Maggie’s thigh, swearing into the skin of her neck. It’s a few minutes before either of them have enough coherency, enough oxygen to speak. Two sweaty bodies tangled over the top of the comforter, sated and satisfied.

“That was fucking incredible.” Alex laughs, rolling off of Maggie slightly so that she can cuddle into her side.

“It was.” Maggie agrees wholeheartedly. “But this is gonna be better.”

“Hmm?” Alex asks, furrowing her brow in question.

“Think you could go again?” Maggie asks, already rolling on top of Alex and beginning to slide down her body, tracing shapes with her tongue along the way. “Cause I really want to taste you.”

“Fuck yes.” Alex breaths.

They’re twenty fives minutes late to dinner when they’re finally done with each other. Alex having decided that if Maggie got to taste her, it was only fair she got to do the same, which led to another two orgasms each before either of them would admit that they were wildly hungry.

They shuck their robes back on, using the large mirror by the door of the room to double check their appearance before leaving, watching the door disappear behind them. When they waltz into the great hall, hand in hand and dopey grins on their face, Kara surprisingly smiles at them.

She remembers herself a moment later and grimaces, groaning and pressing her face into Lena’s shoulder in somewhat faux disgust. She may be happy for them, but she still doesn’t want to think about it. Winn, James and Lucy all stare at them with a funny look, not understanding Alex’s blush, Maggie’s shit eating grin and Lena patting her girlfriend awkwardly on the shoulder.

“Hey guys, where were you?” Lucy asks, unknowingly.

“Studying.” They both answer at the same time, glancing at each other guiltily before taking their places at the table with their friends and beginning to pile food up onto their plates. Kara seems to recover shortly after that, content to pretend that nothing had happened at all as they ate together. It wasn’t until halfway through dinner that Maggie perks up.

“Oh, uh-” She starts, reaching into the pocket of the robe and pulling out the map and waving it at Lena. “Mind if we keep this tonight?”

Kara groans again, dropping her chicken wing in disgust and she buries her face in Lena’s shoulder again.

“Well it doesn’t look like I’ll be needing it later.” Lena sighs, earning another grumble from Kara. “Or for the next week.”

“Excellent.” Maggie grins wickedly, making both Danvers’ girls blush and groan in unison.

“Stop it!.”

#sanvers #sanvers smut #alex danvers #maggie sawyer #sanvers week #sanversweek #day four #day 4 #hogwarts au

[paintedface]

Misfits Part 2

Summary: You have a regular college life, regular friends (a very big understatement) but your crush is a little bit…different from what people would think a person like you to be with. Are you able to catch his eye, or are you not the one?  

Pairing: Punk!Bucky Barnes x Reader (ALTERNATE UNIVERSE)

Word Count: 2,899

Warnings: swearing, fluff, angst

Notes: I haven’t had any inspiration for anything else *cough* ships *cough*, so I decided to complete this part! Hopefully I’ll get onto an actual publishing schedule for this series, hope you like it!

Prologue / 1

Two days later

"Come on Y/N! It'll be fun!" Nat begs you, leaning against the door.

"I have a commission to do!" You say, gesturing vaguely towards your computer. "Several commissions!" 

"Seriously? That's your excuse? This is the biggest party of the year!" Nat exclaims, tugging on one of her perfect curls. 

"And you entirely know that I hate parties! Stop trying to make me go!" You swing your chair back to your computer screen. 

"Well at least try on this, you'll have all eyes on you!" You turn back around to get something thrown onto your face. You pull it off and hold it up to show that it's a dress. Not one that you would wear for normal wear, and you completely forgot you had it. It's black, with straps at the top and bra area that lead to a bow in the centre of your back. It has a high waist with a softly pleated black skirt. The front of the bodice has strings to tie it up, corset style. 

You raise an eyebrow at Nat, before huffing a sigh and shooing her out of your room. 

Swiftly, you pull of your t shirt and take off your sweatpants, throwing them to one side. You slip on the dress, and adjust the pre-done bow at the back to fit your body better. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, and you allow yourself to smile a little. 

Because...you do actually look good. The dress accentuates your curves, which makes you look more sophisticated and well...sexy? You've never in your life been 'sexy' and you never had the intention to. But wearing this dress, it's not necessarily something you're comfortable with, but it's a new look. You pull your hair out of its band to let it fall loosely around your neck. You contemplate what you would like with some makeup, a dusting of powder, red lipstick, eyeliner...

"BITCH YOU LOOK GREAT!" Natasha shrieks as she bursts into the room and you stumble backwards, holding onto your desk for support. 

"Nat, I could've been naked for all you know!" You squeak, knuckles white from clutching the edge of the table. You're shaking slightly, from Nat's sudden appearance. 

"Yeah right, you don't take that long to change." She snorts, rearranging her emerald green skirt. Most colours complement Nat, but green looks stunning on her. You wish you could pull it off as well as her.

"But seriously, you look incredible! I could just..." she whips out a makeup brush with a devilish grin and you back away hurriedly. 

"I do not trust you Nat, as amazing as you are with makeup, I don't like that look on your face." You tell her, and she laughs, shaking her head. 

“So are you coming, or not? Because you look like a goddess, and you'll be the star there." 

"I don't want to attract attention, Nat! Getting attention is the worst thing that can possibly happen to me! I'm a damn klutz! I'm awkward!" You exclaim, tying your hair back up into a messy ponytail. 

"But you do want attention from Bucky though, right?" Nat winks, her smirk seductive and you slap her on her forearm. 

"No! Yes! I don't know...maybe! He won't be there anyway! Look, just leave it, Nat. I don't want to go." You say finally, sighing, and sitting back into your chair. 

Nat huffs, and raises a perfectly arched eyebrow. "You're not changing your mind, are you?" She frowns, her matte wine lipstick perfectly complementing her outfit. 

"Nope." You reply, popping the p. "Sorry." You add swiftly, as you pick up your stylus. 

"You aren't sorry at all. At. All." Nat walks over, the heels clicking against the wooden floor. She presses a kiss to the top of your head. "Alright. Wanda's going to be coming back in an hour or so. See you soon."

You smile in spite of yourself, calling, "Don't get too drunk!" as she walks out of the room. 

"I will!" She shouts back, and you laugh softly, shaking your head. You can hear the front door click close and you turn back to your computer. You're too lazy to get out of your dress, and it's made of a nice, comfortable material, so you don't bother changing back into your lounging clothes. 

You check what your commission is meant to be, pull up Spotify and turn on your favourite playlist, and quickly begin sketching, your stylus drawing swift lines over the digital canvas. Unbeknownst to some people, the simple sketch can take ages, it isn't just a matter of scribbling lines in an outline of your desired outcome. This particular commission includes lots of details, and your whole playlist runs through when you finally finish the sketch. 

Satisfied, you pull out your earbuds, giving a light yawn. You grab your phone, checking for any recent notifications, and you're sure your snapchat feed will be flooded with images of a drunk Natasha. There's a few Facebook alerts, a lot more instagram ones and one snapchat one. From Natasha, with her nickname of ‘The Huntress’ beside her name. 

Rolling your eyes, you expect to be confronted by Nat and Clint sloppily making out while holding beer bottles. You click on it and it opens up to chat, to your surprise, not to a photo. 

You still when you see what she's written, eyes wide. 

Nat the Huntress:

Bucky's here 

Bucky's at the party? You should've known that out of all the parties he would attend, despite not going to many, it would be this one. This party's hosted by the biggest names in your university, and almost everyone goes. Why did you expect that Bucky wouldn't go? 

You begin having an internal debate with yourself, choosing whether to go or not. You've finished your commission, so you're able to go if you wanted to. But a crowded place with tons of people you don't know, plus your social awkwardness? Not the greatest idea. However...you really have nothing to lose, as you probably have a pretty low reputation already. 

Standing up, you smooth out your dress, and check yourself in the mirror, content that the dress complements you. Pulling your hair out of the ponytail, you quickly comb it through and fluff it up, letting it settle on your shoulders. You quickly apply some eyeshadow, eyeliner and lipstick, before dusting on some powder. Checking yourself in the mirror, you grab your purse and phone, checking the time. 9:12pm. 

Prime time for the drinking to start. As you put on your heels that are probably one inch shorter than Bucky's, you realise it's been almost half a year since you've last gone to a party. Wow, you really are antisocial. Before you can change your mind, you exit the dorm, sighing as you remember that it's being held at Nick Fury's house, out of campus. Luckily it's only about 200 metres away, so you're able to walk.

The sun has already set, and it's dark, so you rely on the streetlights to show you the way. Some of the more sensible people are walking back home in groups, probably wanting to avoid the drunk and hectic events that'll occur in the next few hours. That would normally be you, but not tonight. 

The moment you step into the house, you instantly regret your decision to go. Trashy, explicit and thumping music is blasting at max volume throughout the entire house, and it just about deafens you, making your heart seem to shake as well. Loud moans are heard faintly through the music, and you grimace, glancing up at the top rooms, shaking your head at what would probably be going on up there, 

You can smell sweat, as well as the thick, heavy alcohol in the air, it almost suffocates you. It's disgusting, and your eyes aren't particularly pleased either. People dancing on tables, grinding against each other, making out against walls, hands roaming. 

You're thinking that you should turn around and leave, that it really isn't worth it, but you see Natasha weaving her way through the crowd, her red hair and green dress visible through the ocean of drunks. 

"Y/N!" She calls, her voice barely discernible through all the noise, and you allow yourself to smile. Her soberness is a sharp contrast to everyone else, and she embraces you tightly. She steps back and grins at you, looking you up and down. 

"You look so good! Bucky will be onto you as soon as he sees you!" Nat tells you enthusiastically, and she sounds so genuine that you actually sort of believe her. 

"Really?" You arch an eyebrow and she nods. "Of course he will! Now go find him!" 

You scan the party, trying to find Bucky. It's like looking for a needle in a haystack. Your eyes flick over to the bar, the surprisingly less occupied area of the party. There's only a few people there, and they look the least interested in the partying. 

Your heart jumps when you see Bucky sitting on one of the barstool, and a blush instantly touches your cheeks, ignoring everyone but him. He's wearing a black shirt with the top buttons undone, and black skinny jeans as well as his signature boots and eyeliner. His hair is loose, falling in soft waves around his face, and you just want to run your hands through them. His piercings are glimmering in the dim light of the bar, and god, he's so hot. 

You're about to muster up the courage to walk over to him when your breath catches. A girl. Brown wavy hair, skinny, better curves than you, pink lips, and a dress that flatters her extremely but isn't immodest. She's standing right next to Bucky, looking as though they've had a conversation going on for a while, both of their laughs loud as Bucky says something smoothly. 

His blue grey eyes are brighter than you've ever seen them and his mouth curving up into a grin. You can feel your stomach turn as he rests a hand on the small of her back, drawing her closer. It's too intimate to be interpreted as just a platonic touch. His fingers are splayed in an almost possessive way. You're biting the inside of your cheek so hard that you think it's about to bleed. 

The moment when the girl leans in, is when you let a tear slip down your cheek, not being able to help it. You can't tear your eyes away, they're glued to the scene in front of you. Their lips connect, gently at first, but then the girl puts her hand on the nape of Bucky's neck and the other hand on his cheek. Bucky's other hand comes around to lay on her back. The kiss deepens, the two of them seemingly oblivious to the rest of the party and their lips locked firmly. Your heart is thumping hard inside your chest, but you don't know why, because it's already shattered. 

It feels like a part of you is torn out, as you watch them kiss. It's deep, passionate, real, something you now know you won't have. It's not just a drunk act, it's genuine-he wants it, you can see that clearly, and that's what kills you the most. You begin to feel overwhelmed by the atmosphere, head pounding, and shivering a little. You don't know if this is what heartbreak feels like, but you know that whatever it is, this party was the wrong place for it to occur. You're surrounded by people on all sides, and you can't let yourself break down. 

You turn to Nat, your face pale. You know she's seen it once her hands cover her mouth. Her eyes widen and she reaches out to you, as you take a step back as the scene continues to unfold. 

"Oh my god, Y/N, I swear I didn't know he was..." she begins, but you don't hear the rest. You spin and shove open the doors, rushing out onto the footpath, letting the cool breeze hit you. 

You don't stop running, your high heels noisy in the now quiet street and blinking back the warm flow of tears, just in case someone will see you on the way back. You push past the group of college students at the edge of the campus, mumbling apologies and feeling lucky that nobody stops you or asks if you're okay. 

Your legs are burning by the time you finish going up the stairs (the elevator was crowded) and you unlock the dorm room, slamming it shut. You stumble towards the couch, collapsing on it thankfully, grabbing a pillow and holding it to your chest tightly. 

You cry into the pillow, letting all the tears finally flow, and now that you've let them out, you can't stop. You're shaking, your chest heaving for some air as your sobs wrack your body, making it hard to breathe. You've never felt heartbreak before, but you're guessing this is what it's like, and it's damn painful. You've always dismissed such an emotion as imaginary, exaggerated, something that only seems so dramatic in movies. Seems like they're half right, because it's fucking cruel, drowning you and rolling over you in strong tides. It's crushing, seeing the one that you love with someone else, because you were too damn shy. 

You didn't have the courage to tell him, and you missed your chance. Your heart's throbbing like a hot coal, eating away at you and relentlessly paining you. Nothing is granting you relief, not even the water from your eyes, it won't satisfy the burning in your heart. You sniff, trying to wipe away the tears hurriedly as you hear a door open from behind you. 

"Y/N?" Wanda's soft voice asks, and you hear quiet footsteps approaching. You look up at her a little as she sits down on the couch beside you. She immediately pulls you into a hug, seeing your red rimmed eyes and trembling lips. 

"Hey, it's okay, I'm here." She murmurs into your ear, and you nod a little, relaxing in her hold. She rubs soothing circles over your back, holding you close. 

"What happened?" She pulls back a little, her chocolate eyes wide with concern. "Are you hurt?" 

You let out a bitter, tearful laugh, shaking your head. "Maybe not physically." You sigh, letting another sob out, fingers digging into her back. She winces a little but she doesn't push you away. 

"Did someone try to...? I know that party was wild, and there were a lot of drunk people there so did someone uh...hit on you...?" she trails off, and you shake your head again, blinking away the fresh tears. 

"I...I saw Bucky there..." you manage to get out, head tucked in the crook of her neck. She stiffens, but doesn't say anything. 

"I was...I was going to go up to him..." you stifle a sob, sniffling. 

"and...?" Wanda prompts you gently. 

"He...made out with someone..." once you get it out, you return to your sobbing, not even bothering to blink them away, your tears soaking her t-shirt. 

Wanda inhales sharply, tightening her grip on you as you quiver slightly in her hold. 

"I...I should've told him earlier but I'm such a fucking coward Wanda, I couldn't...do it!" You say, voice muffled with tears and the fact that your mouth is pressed against her shoulder. 

"Hey, Y/N, look at me." Wanda taps your chin and you do, your vision blurred with tears.

"It isn't your fault darlin', it's his fault if he misses out on..." she gestures vaguely towards you, "this beauty. You're a catch, Y/N, and don't worry, he'll break up with her." 

You can't help but laugh, trying to hide a grin. 

"Wanda! Don't say that, that's mean!" 

She grins, her eyes kind when she sees you're happier. "What? It's true! But honestly, I'll be here for you if you need me Y/N. And I'll kick that boy's ass if he hurts you anymore." 

You nod, feeling extremely grateful for your best friend. You pull her close, murmuring, "Thanks Wanda," into her hair. She presses a kiss to the top of your head. 

"No worries darling. Now let's get you out of this fancy outfit and freshen you up. We'll rewatch Riverdale, and gorge on food to forget about what happened." She tells you, taking your hand. 

However, a week later, he hasn't broken up with her. Bucky comes in to movie night with the girl who he introduces as Connie, his girlfriend, and you clench your fists so hard your knuckles turn white. Wanda, tightens her grip around your waist protectively. She's the only thing stopping you from running out crying. Connie's a good person. She’s genuinely nice, she can make anyone laugh, but she’s always kind too. She’s a good person, easy to get along with, so you can't bring yourself to be mad at her. The hurt never dims, it can't, because to secretly keep in your crush for one year and finally, when you're about to tell him, somebody else gets in before you. And that person probably hasn't loved him for as long as you have. 

Tears prick your eyes, and when Bucky looks your way, you turn your head, not wanting to see the love in his eyes that he doesn't have for you. 

Part 3 coming soon (ish)

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#punk!bucky #punk!bucky barnes #punk bucky #punk bucky barnes #bucky barnes #bucky #winter soldier #the winter soldier #james buchanan barnes #sergeant barnes #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #mcu #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #don't mind all these tags #winter soldier x reader #the winter solider x reader #winter solider x reader #sebastian stan #seb stan #sebstan #reader insert #sebastian stan x reader #seb stan x reader #wanda maximoff #Elizabeth Olsen #wanda maximoff x reader #the scarlet witch #scarlet witch

[meggonagall]

Saving Severus Snape - Chapter 10

17th September 1976 The following week Hermione remained true to her word - Operation Stalk Severus was in full effect. Hermione had taken to keeping the Invisibility Cloak with her at all times; it was stuffed inside her beaded bag, which she carried in the pocket of her robes daily. After her classes she would excuse herself, saying she had to use the loo or by making up some other random excuse, such as needing to speak with a Professor or stating she had forgotten something in the dormitory. Once she separated herself from her friends, she would use the cloak and follow Severus. She tried to learn his schedule, which routes he took to his classes and where he went during his down time. One thing that she had noticed was that Severus was not as much of a loner as he originally appeared. It seemed that he had at least two acquaintances whom he spoke to on somewhat friendly terms. It sickened her a bit when she realized the two young men were future Death Eaters – Avery and Macnair. However, there was something about the hint of disgust in Severus’ eyes when he was near them that satisfied Hermione. It seemed that he had not really cared for them at all, and she assumed that their friendship, if you could have called it that, was more out of convenience than anything else.   She learned after a few days that Severus Snape was very much a creature of habit. His schedule barely changed from one day to the next, which made her life a lot easier. He ate breakfast in the Great Hall, went to his classes – any free periods were spent in the library, had lunch, returned to his classes, disappeared to the Slytherin dungeon, reappeared for dinner and then ended his evenings in the library once more. 

Hermione had not attempted to speak with him at all during the week. She had come to that decision for two reasons. One: she thought it would be better to study him a bit beforehand. Learn what he did during the day and possibly what his interests were, so she could come up with something substantial to speak with him about. Two: she was afraid that if she continued to try to force him into a friendship, which he seemed to not want, she would risk pushing him away for good. She had time, quite literally, and figured she ought to use it wisely. During their Potions classes, Hermione would enter, nod a quick hello – that he surprisingly returned later in the week, and would spend the rest of the time quietly working on her assignments. A few times she thought she caught him looking at her, or what she was doing, but she had not acknowledged it. Only once did he speak to her. Hermione had not been paying attention as well as she normally would have in her own time - she was too preoccupied with her thoughts, and almost missed a step while working on her potion. She nearly added the armadillo bile before the scarab beetle in her Wit-Sharpening Potion before Severus stopped her. “Scarab beetle,” he hissed as her hand nearly tipped the vial into her cauldron. She jumped and let out a small squeak of surprise before thanking him and continuing on with her coursework. Afterwards, Severus went on acting as if Hermione had not existed. The more she watched him, the more she noticed little things that made her feel confused and conflicted. For one thing, she found herself admiring the way he was so dedicated to his school work. She started to see that he was quite a brilliant young man; a person who she honestly could have seen herself wanting to be friends with. He was someone she imagined she could have had meaningful and intense discussions and debates with. Someone who could have stimulated her intellectually. He was kind of funny, too. In a dry, sarcastic sort of way. There were a few instances in which she heard him mutter something about one of their classmates; she’d have a hard time keeping herself from giggling at his remarks. A few times he said some things that she might had thought, but never would have voiced out loud. Of course when you’re a bit more advanced than some of your peers, you were bound to become frustrated with them. Severus just didn’t seem as capable of keeping his opinions to himself as Hermione had been. There was one day, during Ancient Ruins, a thought crossed her mind which completely threw her for a loop. She actually found him slightly attractive. Not that she was attracted to him, per say, but she couldn’t say that he was ugly. There was something about his dark eyes and the dark curtains of hair which contrasted with his pale skin that she found sort of beautiful. Even his nose seemed more distinguished than obtrusive. And, on the rare occasions that she actually saw them, his teeth seemed quite a bit straighter and whiter than they had become in his adult years. She tried very hard after that day to shake any of those thoughts from her mind. She had a… boyfriend? Actually, she wasn’t exactly sure what she and Ron were, but she did not feel right looking so closely at another boy. Especially considering who that boy was. *** 8th October 1976 For the next few weeks it went on relatively the same way. She attended her classes, spent her free time either following Severus or becoming much closer to Amelia and Remus than she would have preferred. She worried more and more that they would recognize her in future. Then, much to her horror, after a conversation in the library Friday evening, she feared that Remus might have remembered her. The way their conversation ended was eerily reminiscent of a similar one she had with Remus and Sirius during her summer at Grimmauld Place, before her fifth year. Somehow, Hermione, Amelia and Remus had gotten on the subject of House Elves and Hermione, who was unable to contain herself, went on a long winded rant of how they deserve to be treated better. How they should receive pay, sick days and holidays, just as anyone else would. Amelia somewhat agreed with her, yet Hermione suspected from her tone that she was just placating her, but that didn’t bother Hermione. She received the same response from Harry. She always knew that Harry had not taken her seriously, but she appreciated the fact that he did not outright make fun of her about it, as Ron did. Amelia, it seemed, was being just as polite. Remus however did not hold back his laughter. Not only that, but what he said to her nearly caused her to fall out of her seat, because it was the same exact response that he had given her in the future. “Hermione,” Remus chuckled. “I do agree that House Elves get a raw deal, but have you ever met one before?” “Of course, Remus!” She responded indignantly. “They –“ Remus cut her off. “Then you would know that they’re perfectly content making the families they serve happy. It’s what they were born to do, Hermione. It’s what gives them purpose.” “Yes but-“ He held up his hand. “I can see that we’re not going to agree on this issue,” he smiled. “I think it would be best if we dropped it?” Hermione’s heart stopped for a moment. ooo Hermione could not sleep and found herself in the basement kitchen of Grimmauld Place with Remus and Sirius, who all sat drinking some tea. Although, from the smell of it, Hermione suspected Sirius’ cup held a much stronger drink. Kreacher had entered the kitchen mumbling hurtful words about her under his breath, causing Sirius to throw a soup ladle at the old elf and order him out of the kitchen. Of course his actions horrified Hermione, who apparently had a difficult time keeping the angry expression from her face. “What?” Sirius snapped after looking at her. Hermione jolted a bit in her seat, it was the first time Sirius had ever used that tone of voice with her, and it took her off guard. Still, she had not felt right watching an elf being abused right in front of her. Kreacher hadn’t known any better, she understood that, therefore she did not take his words or actions to heart. “That was rather harsh, Sirius,” she scolded. Sirius snorted loudly. “Harsh? You’re taking the piss, right?” An argument then began between the two of them and started to become quite heated. Hermione shouted about how they should have freedom, or pay; more rights in general. Remus intervened. “They’re perfectly content making the families they serve happy. It’s what they were born to do, Hermione. It’s what gives them purpose,” he said in a tired voice. Hermione looked affronted. “But surely you could see my reasoning behind-“ Remus raised his hand to stop her. “I can see that we’re not going to agree on this issue. It would probably be for the best if we dropped it.” At the time, Hermione had not understood the smirk on Remus’ face. Also, the knowing look he shared with Sirius immediately after confused her at the time. But then she wondered. Had he remembered her? ooo Then suddenly, more things started to make sense to her. Like a brief conversation she had once with Sirius during Christmas break her fifth year. ooo Hermione was passing by the drawing room and noticed Sirius sitting in a chair, all alone and holding onto a bottle like it was his long lost lover. She felt horrible that he was spending his holiday cooped up by himself in a place that caused him so much pain. Instead of just walking by, she decided to enter the room and sat quietly in a chair across from him. “Happy Christmas, Sirius,” she said quietly. Sirius picked his head up in a jerky motion, his bloodshot eyes wide and full of surprise. After looking as if he was trying to focus on the person who had just spoken to him, a smile slowly spread across his lips, though it did not meet his sad eyes. “Same to you, Hermione,” he responded, and lifted his bottle in a mock toast before taking a deep drink of the amber liquid. Hermione smiled sadly as he wiped his mouth with the back of his dirty sleeve. “S’hard to believe you lot are the same three scrawny brats I met nearly two years ago,” he joked. “Breaking any hearts yet?” Hermione never understood why some adults would ask that of teenagers. Like the only thing that mattered about their adolescence was if they dated or not. She laughed out loud. “Hardly.” Sirius shook his head. “Don’t worry, Hermione. You will soon enough, trust me. I’m sure a bloke will come along who pesters you almost daily. Don’t be too hard on him though.” His eyes slowly began to close. Hermione was increasingly becoming more confused, but just chalked it up to Sirius being intoxicated. “It’s not like he had any idea who you were. If he did he wouldn’t have…” he trailed off before passing out.   ooo Hermione called it an early night after realizing she may not have remained as unmemorable as she had hoped. She claimed she had a stomach ache, which technically wasn’t a lie. The whole ordeal made her feel exceptionally queasy. *** 9th October 1976 The evening of Hermione’s final detention, she entered the Potions classroom ready for another uncomfortable evening of Slughorn doting on both her and Severus while they continued to clean, not speaking to each other, only to their professor. She hadn’t been expecting anything from Severus, which was why it was an absolute shock to her when he hadn’t rushed out of the room after Slughorn dismissed them, as he had done after each of their previous detentions. Both of them wished their professor a goodnight and turned to leave the room; Hermione trailed a bit behind Severus. She walked behind him for a few steps when suddenly, he stopped. “May I speak with you for a moment?” he asked her with his back still turned. Hermione’s heart raced and, for some reason, her stomach felt like it was filled with fluttering butterflies. “Of course!” she responded a bit too eagerly. Severus turned around slowly, but did not make eye contact with her. He looked down at the ground, pushing a strand of his hair behind his ear. “I’ve noticed during Potions that you do not seem as stupid as the rest of our classmates.” Hermione assumed that was intended to be a compliment. The corner of her mouth turned up a little in spite of herself. “Er… thanks?” Once again, he started to tug on the cuff of his sleeve. “There are still some areas you could improve on, however,” he continued, condescendingly.   She flinched. It was almost like she was his student once more, listening to him belittle her and her hard work. Her eyes narrowed as she placed her hands on her hips. Severus did not seem to notice. “Potions requires instinct and imagination. You don’t always have to rely so heavily on what is shown to us in textbooks.” Why was he telling her that? He had not seemed to her as the type of person who would offer advice to fellow students. Still, she didn’t speak. She waited to see if he would continue. Severus reached up and rubbed the back of his neck; he still had not looked at her. “If – if, erm…” He stopped and shook his head. Where was he going with all of this? She wondered. “If what, Severus?” she asked. She noticed him jolt slightly again when she said his name and once more wondered what that was all about. Finally he looked up and locked eyes with her. She saw his Adam’s apple move up and down, like he was swallowing. He seemed nervous. “I – I could help you if you want,” he offered quietly and again fixed his eyes on the floor. Hermione noticed a hint of red tint his pale cheeks. She almost laughed. All of the plotting and sneaking around she had done and it hadn’t even mattered. She shouldn’t have been surprised that the way to get him to notice, or even possibly respect her would be for her to do well in class. Not only that, but what also must had helped her was how she hadn’t been raising her hand or answering every question that was asked in her classes either. She was determined, while she was there, not to come off like a know-it-all, only because she figured it would have helped her blend in with everyone better. He must had taken her silence as the beginning of a rejection. “I only offer, because it would be a shame for someone with even the most minimal amount of talent let it go to waste. Not many people appreciate Potions,” he added with a snide tone Hermione recognized quite well. She rolled her eyes and was thankful he wasn’t looking when she did. “I would like that,” she finally answered and thought she saw the hint of a smile form on his lips. He nodded once and looked at her with a furrowed brow. “Right. Meet me in the library tomorrow evening. Eight o’clock.” “I’ll be th-“ “Don’t be late,” he cut her off. Without waiting for an answer, he quickly turned around and half-ran away from her. Hermione shook her head softly. Severus was truly a different sort of person. “…there,” Hermione finished as she watched him leave. For some reason, she had a difficult time keeping a smile off of her face the entire walk to Ravenclaw tower, which she still must have been wearing when she entered the common room. “Well you look awfully cheerful for someone who just had detention,” Amelia said with a suspicious glimmer in her eyes. Hermione shrugged. “It was the last one.” she responded as if that clarified everything. She began to head towards the dorms saying a quick goodnight. “Where do you think you’re going Miss Devereux?” Amelia demanded looking over the top of the book she was reading. “If you think for one moment I’m buying the whole, ‘It was the last one’ excuse, you’re sorely mistaken.” Hermione stuck her tongue out at Amelia then continued her walk towards the stairs. Amelia quickly followed after. “Really, Amelia, it’s nothing. I’m just glad to be done with it, that’s all,” she tried to convince her. As she trekked up the stairs a little more quickly than she began, Amelia jogged to keep up with her.   “You’re clearly lying, Hermione. I haven’t seen you smile like that since you’ve arrived here. Now what’s going on?” she asked, slightly panting.   Hermione shook her head as a snort escaped her. As they walked into the empty dorm Amelia would not let up.   Truthfully Hermione didn’t even know where to begin. Why was she smiling like a fool? Why was she feeling nervous, yet excited about the prospect of spending the evening with Severus? Was it simply because she was finally making some progress towards her goal in the past? Or was it something else?   She sat down on her bed and tucked her legs beneath her; Amelia watched her face carefully.   “Well?” Amelia tried once more.   Hermione drew in a deep breath. “Severus asked me to study with him tomorrow night,” she admitted quietly. A blush slowly crept up her face as she watched Amelia’s mouth pop open. “I – er – I agreed to go.”   The look on Amelia’s face was very similar to the look someone who had just been clubbed over the head would be wearing. She looked dumbfounded.   “He – he asked you out?” Amelia whispered.   Hermione shook her head. “No, it’s not a date or anything,” she clarified quickly. “He just mentioned that he’s noticed my work in potions class and thinks that he could help me become better.” She had a hard time not sounding bitter at the end of that sentence.   Tucking a lock hair behind her ear, Hermione squirmed uncomfortably under Amelia’s astonished stare. To Hermione, it seemed like it was the first time Amelia had ever heard of anyone asking another student to study with them, she looked so shocked.   She couldn’t take the awkward silence any longer. “What?” Hermione snapped.   Amelia seemed to realize she was behaving a bit rudely. She shook her head and sat up straighter while forcing a smile on her face.   “No, nothing!” she said quickly. “It’s just – just that…” she bit her lip. “I’ve never seen him with a girl. Well besides Lily Evans.”   Lily and Severus had been childhood friends, up until the end of their fifth year; Harry had told both her and Ron that the morning after the battle at Hogwarts. Harry hadn’t gone into details as to why Severus and Lily stopped speaking. All he told them was that Severus had done something Lily couldn’t bring herself to forgive him for. Hermione was exceptionally curious as to what that was and wondered if Amelia had known what happened.   “Lily Evans and Severus are friends?” Hermione asked, as if she were ignorant.   “Were friends,” Amelia clarified. “Up until the end of last term. Right after we finished with our O.W.L.s.”   Hermione didn’t have to fake her curiosity. “What happened?” she asked eagerly and leaned forward.   Amelia scooted to the edge of her bed and crossed her legs underneath her.   “I wasn’t there,” she began. “But Alice was. She told us what happened afterwards. Actually,” she snorted, “the whole school knew afterwards.”   Hermione’s heart was pounding. What had Severus done that was so bad the whole school knew about it within minutes? “Apparently Severus was sitting under a tree near the Black Lake. Potter, Black, Remus and Pettigrew were out there as well."   Hermione felt her stomach drop. She had a feeling she knew where this story was headed.   She listened in horror as Amelia described the scene by the lake that summer afternoon. She felt sick to her stomach as she heard what James and Sirius had done to Severus, who had done nothing to them. It was amazing to her how similar James and Harry looked, yet how different they both were in personality. Who knew? Maybe James changed. It already seemed like he had grown up quite a bit since last year, from what Amelia was telling her, but still. Harry had never hexed anyone just because he and Ron were bored. That behavior was more of something she would had expected from Draco Malfoy, never Harry. Was Professor Snape right all of those time he had told Harry that James Potter was arrogant and a bully?   However, whatever sympathy she was feeling towards Severus disappeared the moment Amelia told her what he had called Lily in the heat of the moment.   “He called her a what?” Hermione gasped threw her fingers which were covering her mouth. “No, he couldn’t have,” she whispered, more to herself than to Amelia.   Amelia nodded. “He did,” she answered matter-of-factly.   Hermione hung her head. How could have done such a thing? Lily was his best friend. She was a girl he cared for. Why would he call her that?   Her heart broke for Lily, as Hermione tried to imagine how she would have felt if Ron or Harry let that word slip from their mouths. She would had been crushed. Heartbroken. Horrified. Livid. Devastated. No wonder Harry had not told her or Ron what caused the end of their friendship. She was disgusted with him and was questioning if she really wanted to see him the following evening. Was he worth it? Was being there worth it?   “He tried to apologize immediately after, but Lily wouldn’t have any part of it. According to Mary, he threatened to sleep outside of the Gryffindor common room if Lily didn’t come down to hear him out,” Amelia continued while watching Hermione’s reaction carefully.   Hermione couldn’t seem to speak. She didn’t know what to say, so instead she nodded slowly. What if Ron or Harry had let that slip and tried to apologize? How would she have handled that? Obviously Lily did not accept Severus’ apology, as she clearly still was not on speaking terms with him. But would Hermione had been able to shut Ron or Harry out of her life for a mistake, albeit a horrible one, but a mistake nevertheless.   When you love someone, regardless if it’s a significant other, friend, or family member, you have to be able and willing to forgive them. Even if, or especially when, they mess up badly. Yes, what Severus did was horrible, but was it unforgiveable? She tried to look at the whole situation objectively. He had just been suspended in midair, robes falling down and his pants displayed for the entire school to see. James and Sirius had physically and emotionally abused him in front of an audience for their own entertainment. Severus was a proud young man and his ego had to have been severely damaged in that moment. Then Lily came along to fight his battle for him; something which Hermione was sure would not have sat well with him.  It didn’t excuse what he had done, but Hermione understood why it happened. If she were in Lily’s position, she thought that she most likely would have come to forgive him. She would have been furious with him, shouted at him and probably given him the silent treatment for a few days, but if he was her friend, she would have found it in her heart to let him back in it.   “And she never forgave him?” Hermione asked after minutes of silence.   Amelia looked taken aback. “Well of course not!” she said as if it was obvious. “Would you have?” “Yes,” Hermione answered without hesitation. Amelia looked like she was having a hard time believing her. “Sometimes the people we love are the ones who have the ability to hurt us the most. That doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t forgive them when they do. Everyone says or does things they don’t mean at times. It’s part of being human. I’m sure he didn’t mean what he said, and it sounds as if he regretted it the moment the word left his lips. I’m not excusing what he did, or saying it was right, but I don’t think it’s fair of Lily to hold it against him forever. Especially if they were as close as they were.”   Amelia shrugged gently. “I suppose you’re right, but still. It was a shit thing for him to do.”   “I’m not saying it wasn’t,” Hermione agreed.   “Just be careful around him Hermione,” Amelia said sincerely. Hermione was taken off guard by the sudden turn in their conversation. “Oh!” Her eyes opened wide. “Right. I – I will,” she promised.   Amelia did not look anywhere near comforted by Hermione’s half-hearted response. 

#snamione #snamione fanfiction #hermione x severus #harry potter fanfiction #hermione granger #severus snape #young severus snape #time turner fanfiction #hermione time travel

[grapsandclaps]

GRAPS AND CLAPS REVIEWS - GPW 'THUNDERBRAWL'

Hello and welcome everyone to another edition of Graps and Claps taking me on another journey to deepest darkest Hindley for GPW 'Thunderbrawl' on a surprisingly sunny Friday evening given the wet weather we have had all week in the North West. Sadly for me not a lot of pub crawling on this evening due to arriving into Hindley for 6:30 pm, so me and our Geoff went to meet up with Ben (@britwresawaydays) and Tom in Hindley's new drinking hot spot called 'Korre' which is basically a Cocktail/Wine Bar that I have been trying to visit in the last couple of visits but never ending up doing, so I was interested in seeing what it had to offer.

On first reflection if you like your cocktails this is more your place, if you like your beer probably not as they only have Staropramen on tap costing £3.60 and also a handful of 500ml bottles of some local plonk, to be honest though the Staropramen was a very good pint and as a change to visit I would probably go again - so a thumbs up from this pub expert.

On the walk down to the venue, the locally famed Jonesies Bar is now boarded up, so sadly we will never see what actually lurked in that pub.

With the time coming up to 7 p.m we met up with Graps and Claps correspondent and French Football expert Andrew Gibney and also Baseball fanatic John who were visiting GPW for the first time, so it's good to see that the company is picking up new followers by the show.

This was shown as well by the sold out crowd in attendance snaking round the Rose Club looking at advertisements for 'Big Bang Tungsten' featuring some proper heavyweights of the darting world.

In the venue the scramble for chairs and tables was evident with a number of our group going upstairs on the balcony to snaffle a chair or two to set up to the side of the entrance way. With all that said let's get into the wrestling action on what looked on paper to be a tasty night of action!

First up we had a Grudge match months in the making between former Tag Team partners and friends as Martin Kirby took on Ashton Smith in a match that should have taken place at the 15th Anniversary show but due to Ashton having a supposed injury he was unable to compete leaving Kirby to take on Crater instead on that evening. It is to be noted that Ashton came out to 'All of the Lights' but as he is a very naughty boy in GPW, his usual singing section was keeping quiet and instead was giving him the sound of apathy - BOOOOOOO!!!.

The opening of the contest was mainly Kirby tricking Ashton with a number of headlock and arm reversals to frustrate Ashton enough to send him for a powder to the outside - which elicited a shout of 'Chicken' from the crowd that provoked Ashton to say 'That's Damon Leigh's Gimmick'! Back in the ring, Ashton managed to get back on the offence, including a sweet variation on a 'Code Red' for a count of 2 and seven eighths. With Ashton looking like he was on his way to victory, he was caught with an enziguri to the back of the head by Kirby and then finished off with a Rocker Dropper for the 1-2-3 and your winner Martin Kirby. With the cross in the loss column bad boy Ashton was then subjected to the AAAAAAARRRRGGHHH walk of shame from the Hindley faithful to send him sulking backstage! This was an excellent opener between two of the best in the UK and well worth your viewing once it arrives on GPW's On Demand service.

Before we get into the next contest, the greatest discovery known to Hindley man was found as a range of hot pies are now on sale at The Rose Club including Steak & Ale and Meat & Potato costing £2.50 - these went down such a treat that they had sold out by the time the Rumble had started. As I said on Twitter on Friday night, these possibly rival the Temple of Boom Vegan Curry & Rice for the 'Best Food at the Graps' award - a game changer this certainly was.

Next match was a 3-way No Holds Barred Tag Team Title Match with the Champions Craig Kollins & T-Bone taking on The Austins (L.A & Lana) and also the Midnight Bin Collection (Ste 'Bin' Mann and Jett Fashion) who as noted last time had a break up/make up of sorts at the 15th Anniversary show so it would be interesting to see if they could co-exist to rest the titles away from Kollins & Bone. 

As ever with No Rules matches at GPW this went all around the building, including Kollins sending Fashion through a fire exit door to the left of me, we had a dive sequence to the outside which included poor Ste 'Bin' Mann unfortunately not getting enough traction on the dive doing his best Brie Bella impression by going vertical to the outside and landing with a big 'THUD!' Thankfully he was able to continue the match but this didn''t half draw a gasp from the audience.

With more fighting on the outside, including some evil baking tray shots the fight took to the bar area that ended with Lana Austin hitting a dive to everyone outside from the raised bar area. Back in the ring with the match reaching it's climax, either T-Bone or Kollins got caught up in the ropes for Jett Fashion to hold in place for Ste 'Bin' Mann to use a couple of Baseball Bat shots to the gut that had Baseball expert John shaking his head in disgust at Bin Mann's swinging technique. Sadly though for the MBC it all went downhill from there as The Austins put paid to Bin Mann, as L.A Austin finished off Jett Fashion with a Swanton Bomb to get the 3 count and your new Tag Team Champions - The Austins.

Another great match for just the chaotic nature of the action, this was excellent! With the match out of the way, a despondent Bin Mann attacked his partner Jett Fashion to finally break up the long serving team due to cuts at the council - so no more bin collections in Hindley as of from Friday evening.

Next up GPW's owner Johnnie Brannigan came out to confront the GPW British Champion Sam Gradwell who has recently picked up a ACL injury which will keep him on the shelf for around 9 months which is unfortunate for Sam as he has been an excellent champion and for me one of highlights of many a GPW show over the last year and a bit. Brannigan anyway wanted to strip Gradwell of the British Title and award it to tonight's ThunderBrawl winner but Gradwell said 'NO!' and that he will compete in the Rumble to take his opportunity at winning the No.1 contendership to the GPW Heavyweight Title.

GPW Heavyweight Title time the Champion Joey Hayes taking on the former Champion Dylan Roberts w/Alan Alan Alan Tasker in a rematch from the 15th Anniversary show, this time in a Submission match. With the Submission rules, this was more technical based contest that did sort of bring the audience down a little bit from the opening two contests, but nonetheless it was still a fine contest. Dylan tried to get the Submission victory with a half crab and a variation on The London Dungeon arm submission to Joey but thankfully our Champion was able to get to the ropes to break it up. With Dylan desperate to reclaim his crown, his Manager Alan Alan Alan Tasker got on the ring ropes to try and distract Joey, but Joey instead ducked to send Dylan knocking down Tasker to the floor, leading to Joey hitting a cutter then locking in the CrossHayes for the tapout win to send the Hindley faithful celebrating into the half-time photos with Joey Hayes. 

Before we got started with the ThunderBrawl, the formality of the raffle was drawn with a drunken audience member who's birthday it was - my god this bloke was just having too much fun as he fell on his arse on the outside to roars of laughter from the crowd, it is to be noted that said fella was then hit with a stray baking tray by a lad I know in the front row - AAAAAAARRRRGGGGGHHH!!!!

ThunderBrawl time with combatants coming in at 60-second stages which did at times feel like 10-second stages it was that frenetic. Now I am not going to list all of the 40 competitors or all eliminations - you can checking @britwresawaydays for all of that, but instead I will note some of the interesting happenings during this contest. Sadly for Indy Corner fans, Benno was not present for his surprise entry in the Rumble it must have been the roadworks in Liverpool putting paid to this, but we did have a number of surprise entrants including Heresy (Johnnie Brannigan), Simon Valour, Ethan Allen, Luke Jacobs, JJ Webb, BIG T and the most shocking of them all - Liverpool's No.1 Zack Gibson as the 35th entry!

We also had Sam Gradwell who made his entrance but never actually got in as he stayed on the outside to speak some lethal barbs to Johnny Brannigan and Simon Valour commenting on their dad bod's and if they had only just grown a moustache they would have got a WWE contract - Ouch! This was a great line! We had the sound of the Bad Lads theme playing which instantly led our group who wanted to see Big Joe left in disappointment when it was Drill and Mickey Barnes making their entrance to much apathy but when Joe did make his entrance at No.37 there was much relief.

Crowd favourite in this rumble was Entrant No.28 Sandy Beach who since with his losing streak going has been on a roll in GPW and by the show he is gaining  well deserved following. As we know with Sandy he now makes his entrance with an Inflatable Shark of all things that was used to great effect in this rumble provoking the Hindley faithful to shout to the tune of 2018 smash hit 'Baby Shark' - SANDY'S SHARK DO DO DO DO! Christ alive this caught on! Also in this match we had the newly broken up team of the Midnight Bin Collection coming to blows as they eliminated each other when Jett Fashion came on rushing at Bin Mann.

Anyways we got down to the final 4 with Craig Kollins, Sandy Beach, Martin Kirby and Zack being the men that could possibly become the No.1 Contender to the GPW Heavyweight Title. Kollins was the first to go, leaving just three with the crowd fully behind Sandy Beach and Martin Kirby to get the glory. Sadly with Sandy looking to throw Kirby over the top rope, ever the opportunist Gibson creeped up from behind and chucked Sandy out much to the disgust of the audience who wanted Sandy to get the victory but nevertheless a star was made in GPW in the form of Sandy Beach!

Down to two now with Martin Kirby facing off with Zack Gibson and it was Gibson who low-blowed Kirby on the apron to send him packing over the top to become the 2018 ThunderBrawl winner and also your new No.1 Contender to the GPW Heavyweight Championship. After the match Gibson got on to the mic to proclaim his victory and to send some tasty words to Joey Hayes who came out only to be locked in the Shankly Gates to end the show. Well what a fantastic rumble this match was, breathless and plenty of storyline development in this with Gibson instantly getting 3 new challengers in Kirby, Beach and Hayes and instantly filling the void which has been left with the injury of Sam Gradwell.

With the show done at 10:15 pm, we made our way out of the venue and back to the station for one last drink in the Joseph Holt's pub next to the station for the debrief of the show before getting back into Manchester for 11:30 pm to end what was an excellent evening of action and another one to add to GPW's continuing trend of excellent shows - no wonder this event sold out if they are constantly like this one!

I hope you have enjoyed reading this edition of Graps and Claps, give it all the likes and retweets and any comments are very welcome - the support means a lot! Next review from myself will be from Futureshock's show in Stockport taking place on Sunday 16th September. Till next time  - BYE!!