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#could have been if we hadnt left. i feel empty. i feel alone. im so fucking scared of loving someone who doesn't love me back again.
ifimdreaming · 4 months
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caught
luke hughes x reader
authors note: this is so cutesy to me and im obsessed with writng for Lukey pookie rn so pls send in for him. this is so fluffy, some sexual themes but like barely. and also swearing. also, jack and trevor make an appearnce.
word count: 2.1k
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You woke up to the sound of the tv playing loudly and the muffled voices of what sounded like jack and possibly trevor, or another voice you coudlnt quite recognize, seemingly coming from the living room.
You froze in place not knowing what to do, and slowly sat up in bed, scanning the room for your clothes from the night before.
Waking up to an empty bed confused you, but you quickly heard the sound of the shower being turned on from Lukes bathroom and it eased your mind immediately.
It wasnt often you woke up in Lukes bed, so you decided to just continue laying down, half naked and happily basking in this feeling while you could. 
Although it had only been a few months of dating Luke, you were starting to feel at home around him. Even with jack around it felt like you just blended right in at their shared condo, and all of you were able to act completely yourselves around each other. 
But there was one thing you hadnt yet done with jack around, and that was spend a night at their place.
Of course you have spent many days here before, but the last time you stayed over for more than just a day, Jack ‘conveniently’ was out of town and Luke 'conveniently’ forgot to tell jack you would be staying over the weekend. 
Although It didnt upset you that Luke pretty much hid this from Jack, it does feel like its about time you both rip off the bandaid and be honest about you staying over.
You cant sneak around forever, and its not like Jack is completely oblivious to the fact that you and Luke have spent nights together before.
There are a lot of thoughts racing in your head as Luke is in the shower, but soon the sounds from the other room quiet down some, and suddenly this feels like a way bigger deal than it actually is. 
Snapping you out of your thoughts, Luke opens his bathroom door with a towel around his waist and wet curls slowly dripping into his face and down his chest. 
“Hi baby” he says seeing you are awake now, which makes you wonder how long he has been up for, and if he knows that we are no longer alone in the condo.
“Hi lukey, how was your shower?” you ask as you begin sitting up in his bed, one hand holding the comforter to cover your chest, the other hand attempting to fix your jostled up hair.
“Good. wouldve asked you to join but i didn't wanna wake you. You looked so pretty and peaceful. you sleep ok?” he says as he is rummaging through his dresser drawers, trying to find his clothes for the day.
“Mhm. i uh- slept good.” you say distractedly, watching him from behind as he drops his towel and begins to get dressed.
He turns around to face you as he finishes putting on his underwear and sweats, knowing you would be watching him from your spot in his bed.
He tilts his head at you and a smirks grows on his face as he catches you staring at him.
Your cheeks begin to blush as he crosses his arms in front of you, licking his lips as his eyes trail down your body and then back up to your face again.
“What?” he says knowingly and you just look at him with a small smile. The feeling of lust taking over your thoughts.
“Nothin..” you say softly and watch as he rolls his eyes and quickly makes his way towards the bed.
He lays his body directly on top of yours and immediately embraces his lips with yours. He grabs the side of your face in his left hand, lifting your neck slightly to connect closer to him and his eagerness makes you want him even more. 
As you continue to make out, Luke's hands slowly trail down your body, and you are no longer covered by the sheets on his bed. 
He sits up suddenly with hazy eyes staring into yours and places his hand around your thigh, gently tugging as he adjusts his position on the bed, signaling for you to get on top of him, and you oblige.
“You're so sexy baby” luke says through gritted teeth as he scans his eyes across your body, running his hands along your bare thighs that are now resting across his lap.
“Wanna wake up to this everyday” he continues, and you take note of the fact that all you have on are his boxers from the night before, and a few pieces of gold jewelry.
His words are as sweet as honey and all you can do is lean into his lips again. You grip the back of his neck in both hands, and press further down into his lap, knowing exactly what you are doing to him.
“Fuck” Luke says loudly in response to your movements and you are reminded of the not-so-empty house you are in.
And before you can even say anything you hear the sound of footsteps coming from the hallway.
“Luke? Are you home?” Jack calls out as he is making his way towards lukes bedroom.
Luke is pulled away from his current state and looks at you confused, unaware that jack was even home.
“Hey Lukey?” Jack repeats and he knocks once before opening the door without any hesitation, you and Luke both scrambling to cover your naked body.
“OUT!” Luke says as the door is swung wide open, Jack standing confused on the other side before he scans the room and his eyes are met with the sight of you half covered up, sitting on Lukes lap. 
The shock on his face is extremely evident as he recognizes what he just walked in on. 
The door slams instantaneously and you hear cursing coming from the hallway as Jack begins to walk away.
The pure embarrassment of the situation sends you into a complete laughing fit.
You look over to your boyfriend and see as he clearly does not find these even slightly as hilarious as you do.
“Luke. cmon, its funny.” you grab his face in your hand and playfully squeeze his cheeks, trying to get him to smile. But he is not having it.
“It isnt funny. Fuck. Im so sorry. i didnt even know he was here. I didnt mean to embarrass you like that…I- do you think he saw anything??” luke says, concerned for only you.
He is suddenly up from the bed and going through his dresser, trying to find you a tshirt of his to put on.
“Luke! It is ok. Im sure he didnt even see anything. And if he did then whatever, we’ll both forget about it just like any other embarrassing moment ever.” you say trying to reassure your clearly stressed boyfriend.
“Doubt he'll forget…” he says half-sarcastically. And now you can tell he is finding this just a little funny.
“STOP!” you say throwing a pillow at him and watch as he tosses you a shirt in return.
“Im gonna go check on him. I dont want him to be spiraling into a panic or soemthing in the other room…” Luke says, shaking his head jokingly and you just chuckle in response. 
“Good luck!” you call out to him as he leaves the room and you quickly get up from the bed, putting on his umich tshirt he tossed you and heading for the bathroom. 
After hearing what sounds like Trevor laughing his ass off, non stop swearing, and basically a 12 year old boy sounding argument from the kitchen, you decide to leave lukes bedroom.
“Just warn me goddamnit! This was actually so preventable you asshole!” Jack yells back at Luke as you walk into the kitchn to see the two brothers arguing across the kitchen island at each other. 
You look around and accidentally make eye contact with Jack and he looks away immediately. You then look over to see Trevor, who is sitting down and eating a bowl of cereal with a massive smirk on his face, clearly enjoying this a little too much.
“YOU DIDNT EVEN GIVE ME A CHANCE TO FUCKIN SAY ANYTHING BEFORE YOU BUSTED THE DOOR OPEN!” Luke yells back, causing trevor to lose his mind yet again. he looks at jack, you, then back at jack and begins dying of laughter.
You make your way over to stand beside Luke and he glances at you and back to his brother, and his demeanor changes a bit.
“How bout we talk about this later.” Luke says after he is made aware of your presence and Jack just shakes his head in disbelief.
“How about we talk about it now?” you say butting in and you grab onto lukes arm, looking up at him expectantly.
“Shouldnt I be apart of this conversation? I was there too after all..” you add and watch as trevor nods his head, and Jack continues to avoid eye contact with you.
“Thats true” trevor says as he points his spoon at you, acknowledging that you are making a good point.
Luke takes a step closer to you, wrapping his arm around your waist and places a kiss on your head.
“Fine.” Luke says and waits for Jacks response.
Jack just looks between the three of you and scoffs as he brings his hands together with a clap.
“Wellp. Im feeling like you are all not on my side right now. But i still strongly believe this was lukes fault and not mine… Just saying.” Jack speaks, and raises both of his hands in defeat.
“How the fuck is this MY fault?” Luke retorts and is about to continue before you butt in.
“Ok! Ok! Guys! You both could go back adn forth about this all day! God!” you state frustratedly.
“Ok! How bout next time, Jack: just wait for a response before opening Lukes bedroom door to save both of your asses. And Luke: make sure you know exactly when Jack is coming home so that your door is locked, you idiot.” you say in the most mediating tone you can muster up.
“Sound good??” you finish and watch as the boys just glance annoyedly at each other.
“Ok.” Luke says first, reluctantly.
“Fine.” Jack adds immediately after.
“Amazing! Now im gonna go shower and forget about this whole ordeal.” you say walking away, not wanting to stick around for the awkward silences that are about to follow this conversation.
-
About ten minutes into your shower you hear a knock on the bathroom door,
“Its me baby” Luke calls as he opens the door a crack.
“Oh come in lukey” you say as you are finishing up washing your body.
“Sorry about that whole - thing.” he says regretfully, knowing he is better off apologizing rather than rehashing everything.
You turn the water off and step out of the shower, grabbing a towel before making your way towards him.
“Its ok baby” you say softly and place a loving kiss to his lips and then another one on the tip of his nose, something you always did to show innocent affection.
“And honestly? Its kinda my fault..but please don't be mad!” you say warily and Luke just tilts his head in confusion.
“I may have heard voices coming from the living room when you got up to shower. But i completely forget to tell you that before we- the whole…ya know..” you say as sweetly as you can, and Luke immediately begins squinting his eyes at you in frustration.
He lets out a playful scoff and you just smile back at him, trying your best to win him over.
“But hey! Weve all learned our lesson here right?!” you add before Luke can even respond and he just shakes his head at you and walks out of the bathroom.
“I love you Luke!” you voice out to him and hear a quiet ‘i lu le lu’ come from behind you, the sound of him mocking you while he continues walking away.
You stomp over to him and grab his arm, turning him around to face you and he immediately caves after seeing the disapproval plastered on your face. Knowing you are gonna get him for that. 
“IM KIDDING IM KIDDING. I love you i love you i love you” he says, and rapidly begins kissing you all over your face and neck, desperately trying everything he can to earn your forgiveness.
He brings you into a tight hug, your face squishing against his chest and bicep as he continues placing tiny kisses atop the crown of your head, and you just giggle under his touch in response.
-
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cupoftaae · 1 year
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Could you do one where y/n is walking to home alone at night and is scared of someone and calls tae or somethingg ? :)) I love the Forever and a Day series!
Hello angel! sorry for the delay in post, been busy offline but im gonna get through my requests now, thank you for reading and loving the series! <3
No warnings, enjoy!!
"why are we getting dessert at 1am?"....."why not?" KTH DRABBLE
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"Hi sweetheart, are you just getting out?" Taehyung sat up in bed, phone up to his ear as he picked up your call.
"Hi baby, yeah.." you exhale, walking out of your building and walking to go catch the train home to your apartment.
The past few weeks youve been working as an assistant dance instructor at a fine arts school. You loved teaching and dancing everyday, but some nights were long, and you couldnt let the students leave unless their choreography was perfect.
"How was work then?" he asked, feeling more awake
"well...we finished the main choreo which is actually really good considering we just started teaching it last saturday. I think they are catching onto it now....but we still had to stay late and do costumes and what not..."
"busy, busy girl" he chuckled softly, fidgeting with his shirt as he heard the tiredness in your voice.
"yeah you got that right" you sigh and walk over to cross the street, eyeing the boarding platform for the train. "I'll be home soon, okay?"
"ok my love..."
"do you want me to pick up anything? Im at the train but I can stop quickly at the 24 hour market and bu-"
"hello!"
You stopped talking to your boyfriend as you heard a voice appear behind you. You turned to meet eyes with a much taller man wearing a grey hoodie and baggy navy blue sweatpants. He could have been anywhere between 30-40 years old.
"Uhm-..hi?" you smiled quickly, confused. You hadnt seen anyone around when you first arrived.
"whos there with you?" taehyung listens in to the unfamiliar voice
"hang on, tae" you mumble, putting the phone down as the man steps a bit closer.
"you look very pretty!" the older man spoke calmly, making you cringe. He smelled of cigarettes and booze.
"oh...thanks, im not interested in anything...im sorry. Just waiting to catch the train" you nod and point at the empty tracks in front of you, putting the phone back up to your ear as you turn
"baby whos that?" taehyung frowned, turning down the tv so he could listen more closely.
"I dont know...im at the train and some guy is just trying to talk to me" you whisper through gritted teeth.
"what??" he panics
"how old are you?" the guy asks, now closer to you than before.
"sir...im a little uncomfy with you being so close, I am just trying to get home to my boyfriend, its very late." you try to speak without your voice shaking.
"ah come on...dont be like that, im sure he wont mind if your home a little later. why dont we go have a little fun?" he mumbled
you felt your heart sink to your stomach as you immediately backed up. you wish you hadn't left your stupid pepper spray at home.
"Y/N?" tae called out, but your phone was by your side as you looked back at him. "please.....just go away" you try again
He simply laughed and continued to step closer before a cop that mustve been nearby came up behind him, grabbing his attention.
"hello sir, mind if I ask why you are out here this late?"
He scoffed, shrugging dramatically.
The cop continued to press questions as you quickly made a gesture of appreciation and fled without him noticing you.
You ran off the platform and back into the parking lot of some random store, picking up the phone to see tae was still on the line.
"taehyung??"
"Y/N, what happened? whats going on??" his voice was fast, concerned.
"I- I dont know, i ran away but some guy was near me asking me questions and I just- the cop came by but im afraid to go to the train again...im just-"
"where are you right now?" he stopped you
you turn around to see the 7/11 type market before you, "Im by the convenient store on 11th street..."
"okay stay there, go inside if you can...im coming to get you okay?"
"okay..." you breathe out and sit on the curb right next to the front door, still shaking a bit as your eyes nervously peered around the street, cars passing every now and then.
Taehyung grabbed his keys and was gone within the next 5 minutes, his own nervousness getting to him. He drove to you, keeping you on the line to speak.
"what did he look like?"
"tae i dont know, he was just older...creepy. smelled awful."
"im so sorry that this happened, are you okay?"
"im fine...im just scared now" you laugh breathily.
"im almost there, ok?"
"mhm"
your feet swung against the concrete parking lot before you saw the familiar headlights of your boyfriend pulling in. you waved to grab his attention, him parking the car close to you.
He got out and hugged you, swaying lightly. "its okay"
you give him a squeeze, "im sorry you had to come all the way over here so late.."
"shh dont apologize, you should always keep this with you though" he grabbed the pepper spray you left at home, shoving it into your backpack as you laughed.
"but its pinkkkk" you whined
"so?"
"what guy is gonna be afraid of some pink pepper spray?"
"hey, pepper spray is pepper spray, you just have the bedazzled version. You spray and slay" he shrugged, making you cringe audibly.
"never fucking say that again" you laugh, pointing in his face as he holds your hand in his, beginning his walk to the markets front door.
"why are we going in here?" you ask
"mine as well" he smiled and opened the door, walking in and eyeing the people- free isles.
You followed him as he darted to the back of the building, lifting up the glass case and picking up 2 vanilla ice creams, then going to grab 2 iced coffees.
"whats all this?"
"dessert" he looked back and winked jokingly as he made his way to ring up the items.
You scoffed and stood behind him as he paid, "And why are we getting dessert at 1am?"
"why not" he chuckled and handed you the ice cream and coffee
"valid point" you giggle, "thank you"
He kissed your forehead and led you back out to the car, getting in and enjoying your late night snack.
"so you said the cop stopped him?"
you nodded, licking your cone and looking out the window. "He reeked of alcohol so I doubt it was because he was stalking some young girl....wonder if he was even arrested" you scoff
He hummed, pondering in thought.
The car went quiet for a moment
"do you think hes in the back seat?" tae suddenly spoke, side eyeing you.
"Tae!!!" you shout, playfully smacking his arm as he defensively raised his hands
"sorry, sorry!"
"one more word and im pepper spraying you"
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nottthebest · 4 years
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Waiting...
Sleepless nights were not uncommon. But usually the cause would be the fear of the future or the guilt of the past. This butterfly sensation Yasha hadnt felt in a very long time, however, was the culprit.
The moment the parchment had left her fingers, regret began to seep in. But hope always found a way to her mind. Especially when she was trying fruitlessly to fall asleep. The first night was the hardest. Not only because of the cold, but because Beau was right there in need of warmth. She watched closely, certain Cadeuces and Jester had noticed but stared nontheless. More times than she was proud of, she opened her mouth to offer sharing her warmth but decided agaisnt it. The second night in the tower wasn't much better. She couldn't see Beau now and thus had no idea whether or not she had read her letter. Yasha lied awake for hours just staring at the flowers in the room and on the wall. Wondering. Imagining. Hoping.
When the morning came, Yasha had to restrain herself from seeking out Beau immediately. Patience. The ball was now in her court, as she might say.
She walked closely beside Beau the whole day. Trying, and failing, to be casual about it. No doubt Jester knew what was going on by now. Still, she waited. Patiently. Stealing glances at Beau, "accidentally" bumping into her when she stepped in a soft patch of snow.
The third night was when doubt crept in.
Did Beau not like her back? Had she embarrassed herself by pouring her heart out onto paper? Had Beau even read the note or had she disregarded it as something unimportant?
She tossed and turned for hours before drifting off to fitful sleep.
She kept her distance that next day. Her mind swirled in a storm of emotion.  Did she read it yet? What did she think? Why hadnt she said anything yet? Was she uncomfortable around Yasha now? The doubts pelted her heart and the butterflies turned into a heavy weight in her gut. She still stole glances, though they were looks of longing rather than expectant flirtation. Maybe, she thought. Maybe this just isnt the time for it.
The final night of their journey, Yasha could barely sit still. Somehow she found herself standing in front of Beau's door in the tower. Her hand raised as if to knock but it never made contact. Her heart pounded and she was afraid that even Beau could hear it through the door. If she was even awake at the moment. 
Instead, she sulked to Jester's room.  Maybe talking about this was what she really needed. Words were very hard but Jester always made it feel easier to be vulnerable. She had to knock a few times before the little blue teifling opened the door, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.
"Yasha? What's wrong? Are you ok?"
What time was it? Yasha hadnt even considered that factor. She had been awake for a while and... well. Her mind was elsewhere.
"Um. Im sorry. I didn't mean to wake you." Yasha barely managed before her voice began to break. Tears she hadnt known she had been holding back began to spill forth.
"Ohmigosh Yasha!" Jester pulled her through the door before shutting it behind them. Yasha realized quickly that Jester hadnt been asleep either. A candle was lit by her bedside and a book with a cat seemingly holding a top hat on the cover was open on the bedsheets. A little bit of guilt melted away.
"I gave her the poem. Well-um. It wasn't really a poem anymore. Not that the poem wasnt good I just...." her words faltered off and Jesters expression filled with excitement.
"Really? When? Has she read it yet? What did she say? What happened?" Questions shot out at a million miles per second.
Yasha stayed quiet and the excitement in Jesters face fell to concern.
"Yasha, what did she say?"
Yasha couldnt bring herself to look her friend in the eyes. "I gave it to her a few days ago. I dont know if she has read it. She hasnt said anything to me and I think... I think I messed up, Jester."
"Oh Yasha." Jester threw her arms around her. "No you didn't do anything wrong. Maybe she is just waiting for the right moment. Maybe she wants to make it special. Oh maybe-" she wiped a tear from Yasha's face. "Maybe shes writing you back."
Yasha hadnt thought of that. "Why would she do that?"
"Oh Yasha. Beau is... um well.  Not very good with emotions." Jester admitted.
"Well I guess that goes for the both of us." She sighed.
"Exactly! So maybe. Just like you had to take your time and write things out, maybe that's what shes doing? I dont know or maybe shes waiting for more confirmation or..."
"I'm afraid I've offended her. What if she didnt like it or what if she thought it was stupid or dumb or she thinks I'm stupid or dumb-"
"Yasha!" Jester cut her off. "Beau would never think that. She-" a pause. "She thinks very highly of you, Yasha."
This recieved a bitter scoff in response.
"Yasha," she began slowly. "Why don't you try to talk to her tomorrow."
Yasha gave her a look of disbelief. "Why would I do that?"
Jester giggled a little bit. "Because, Yasha, she feels the same way you do but we both know Beau." She raised a brow. "She probably just needs some help in getting the conversation started."
Yasha thought about this for a moment in silence. Perhaps she could just casually check in with her, just like she had done for Yasha so many times before.
"If you dont talk to her, I will." That threat may have been empty. It may not have been. Regardless. Yasha sputtered a response.
"No no no dont do that I will talk to her." She sighed realizing too late the words that had come out of her mouth. "I will try." She added on in a much softer tone.
"Good." Jester smiled. "I beleive in you Yasha. I'm rooting for you!"
Yasha chuckled a bit at that. "Well. I will try to not let you down then."
Jester yawned but tried to hide it. Yasha smiled softly at her. "Thank you, Jester."
"You're welcome, Yasha." She gestured to the large room. "You can stay here for the night if you don't want to be alone."
Yasha appreciated the thought very much. But she had some thinking to do.
"Thank you. But umm... I think I'll go back to my room. I- you should get some sleep."
They muttered their good night's. Jester gave a few more statements of affirmations as Yasha left. A smile on her face, though faintly.
What in Exandria was she going to say to Beau tomorrow? As she slipped back into her own room and stared at the ceiling like she had done every night before, the storm in her mind began to calm. She would find the right thing to say. It was Beau, afterall. She would never judge her.
She knew she could count on that.
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arcadianstuff · 4 years
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Movie Night ( Douxie x reader)
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You’re having a movie night at your house, inviting your friends: An odd bunch made up of aliens, trolls, troll hunters and wizards. Plus a talking cat. Oh and Toby.
Stand alone fic
—————-
Judging from the screeching sounds coming from your kitchen, you guessed it wasn’t a good idea to let Aja and Krel handle making the snacks. All it was was was some popcorn, and yet it sounded like they were taking apart a motorcycle in there.
You glanced around your living room, which was currently way too packed considering there were two trolls, five teenagers and one wizard crammed in. Your eyes landed on Jim, who was sitting on the couch next to Claire, arm around her as they laughed.
“Jim, hate to ruin the really cute moment but could you go in the kitchen and save our snacks please.” Asking your cousin nicely, you watched him scowl as you wiggled your eyebrows at the pair.
Laughter erupted from Claire but she also turned bright red. Jim on the other hand gave you a small scowl but quickly lightened up, smiling as he nodded.
“Sure thing cuz.” He got up waving as he headed into the kitchen to fix the damage your alien friends probably caused.
“You know you and Jim are really cute. You guys really found each other.”
Once Jim got up you took his place next to Claire, sitting down cross legged on the comfy sofa.
“Yeah I guess we did, there’s nobody else like Jim. He’s something special.”
A warm smile graced Claire’s lips as she looked lovingly towards the kitchen where Jim was. Although it was slightly sickening sometimes to see how much they loved each other, you were happy for the pair. Especially, since Jim was your younger cousin and you wanted to see him happy.
“Oh yeah he’s special alright, Trollhunter by night and just below average student by day.”
You made sure to say the last part just loud enough for Jim to hear, who let out a squawk of indignation from the kitchen causing the others around you to laugh.
On the floor, Toby was arguing with Steve and Eli about what film to watch. It was currently between Killer Robot 3, Ouija Board and Holiday Romance....Yes, Steve did choose Holiday Romance but he kept on denying it and saying Eli chose it. Of course Eli went along with it, being the supportive friend that he is.
Unbeknownst to you all, Aaaargh was happily sat on the bean bag in the corner, chomping away on some old DVDs and VHSs, happy that everybody was safe for once.
“You humans have very strange forms of entertainment. What is this contraption ? Oh it glows.”
Beside you and Claire, Blinky pressed down on the button that turned your lava lamp on. It was a gift you’d gotten from your boyfriend Douxie, who was running late at the moment with the pizza you’d asked for.
Blinky watched fascinated as the lava floated from the bottom of the lamp, until it reached the top, and slowly descended down again. It was amusing to watch the scholar be entranced by something so simple.
“Hey where’s Douxie with the pizza ? I’m starting to get hungry.”
Claire spoke from beside you and, as if to confirm her hunger, her stomach growled moments later leaving her a little embarrassed and you giggling.
“He should be here soon. For someone who’s been alive for nearly a Millenium you’d think he’d learn to tell the time”
You responded jokingly, making Claire laugh and the person who’d just entered through your doorway.
“Cheeky love.”
You turned around quickly to see your boyfriend standing there in all his punk glory carrying six pizzas and a bag of fizzy drinks.
“Wooooo food !!”
Cheering, the teens got off their butts and ran over to Douxie, practically trampling him as they snatched the food away, having not eaten for hours, before quickly running back to sit down in front of the TV.
With a laugh, you got off your feet and made your way over to the wizard, who looked like he’d walked through a tornado. His lips curved into a smile at the sight of you, his lovely girlfriend in sweatpants and a Papa Skull T-shirt (that was definitely his).
“Hello love.”
He greeted you with a kiss on the cheek which you returned, kissing him gently on the lips as his arms entwined around you.
“Oooooooooooooo.”
Four snickering teens giggled at the pair of you as you broke apart. Your face had turned beet red whilst Douxie just rolled his eyes.
“Get a room you two.”
Steve hollered, pizza cheese smeared along his upper lip.
“Well Steve this is my room so.”
You snarked back with a laugh watching as Eli tried to wipe the cheese off of Steve’s face with a napkin. Sadly, Steve was not enjoying being babied by his friend and was thrashing around.
“Stop it pepperjack. What are you doing bro!”
You rolled your eyes at the pair of arguing teenagers, watching as Claire and Toby debated over which film to watch as Blinky came to join them.
“Hey Aaarrghh come over here big guy, got a space for you here.”
You called your large troll friend over who had struggled to fit into your “cave”, as he’d put it, due to its small size but you’d cleared a space just by the sofa for him, having pushed back some furniture.
Grateful for the consideration Aaaargh, with a bit of clumsiness, plopped down in the space, right next to his wingman Toby.
“Thank you. (y/n) is very kind.”
His large hand patted you on the head as he thanked you, smiling widely.
A giggle left your lips as you told him it was nothing, still cuddled up under Douxie’ arm.
“Hey Doux Im gonna go check on the kids in the kitchen. It’s suddenly gotten very quiet. Try and get them to choose a film please.”
You untangled yourself from under Douxie’s arm and made your way into the kitchen.
“Im not a bloomin babysitter love.”
Douxie let out a little grumble as he glanced at the now full on arguing teenagers who couldn’t pick a film for the life of them.
The kitchen was, well to put it lightly, a distaster. Butter and popcorn scattered the floor and surfaces. Some strange yellow liquid was smeared across the cabinet doors, and a strange machine that resembled a blender stood in the middle of your kitchen.
Aja and Krel were rushing around trying to clean up the mess, whilst Jim was microwaving the rest of the popcorn that had survived the ordeal.
“You know what I’m not even going to ask.”
You waved a hand and left them to it, not really feeling like stressing out over something so small. Plus you knew they’d clean it up properly....eventually.
Back in the living room, Claire was standing on the sofa pointing an accusing finger at the boys who were clutching onto Robot Killer 3.
“We are not watching that stupid excuse of a film !”
From out of nowhere she whipped out her shadow staff which darkened with power, a sign that she was getting serious.
Eli and Steve gulped nervously, backing up behind Tobes who brought out his war hammer. The pair locked eyes, filling the room with as much atmospheric tension as a stand off in a Westen movie.
“Now Tobias and miss Claire we can figure this out without resorting to violence.”
Blinky, sensing the tension, stepped in as he was sort of the pseudo-parent around here. He reached out and pushed down their weapons, giving them both a stern look. Whilst that was happening Steve and Eli had quickly escaped over to Aaaargh, hiding behind him for protection.
“No fighting wingman. Watch fun film. No violence.”
Aaarghh’s request settled both Toby and Claire down, who hadnt even considered that Aaaargh couldn’t watch a film with too much violence in it. It’d probably trigger his PTSD and make him too anxious.
“Yeah wingman we can watch Holiday Romance.”
Sighing, a little dejectedly ,Toby agreed with Aaaargh smiling at him.
“Oh yeahhh !!!”
From behind Aaaargh, Steve’s head poked round as he celebrated and started whooping, until he saw the surprised looks on everybody’s faces.
“I mean pshhhh lame, that films for chicks.”
Trying to play it cool or crispy, he sauntered out from behind Aaaargh, followed by Eli and laid down in the sofa only making a small amount of room for Eli.
“Uhuh sure Steve sure.”
Claire and Toby laughed a little as they plopped down in front of the sofa, Blinky between them. You looked round and saw your boyfriend in the armchair in the corner of your living room, stroking Archie who must’ve flown in through the open window.
Noticing you looking at him Douxie winked at you, smirking a little at the way you blushed. Rolling your eyes, you smiled amused before looking at the kitchen as Jim, Aja and Krel emerged with minimal scathing.
“We have corn that is popped !” Krel cheered shoving the popcorn into your face as if to emphasise his point.
“Nice job Krel, I knew I could count on you guys....”
You let out a small laugh as you trailed off thinking about the mess your kitchen had been in and hoping that they’d cleaned it up the best they could.
“Hey wheres the pizza ?”
Jim’s question caused you to look away from Krel’s bowl of popcorn and to look around the room. Sadly, you only found empty pizza boxes and four very guilty looking teens.
“Hey sorry Jimbo. Got hungry you know, missed out on dinner.”
Toby scratched his head nervously as he admitted to eating the last of the pizza. The others looked just as guilty, especially Steve who still had a cheese moustache that Eli had failed to wipe off.
“Oh fudgeknuckles, fine I’ll go get some more.”
Sighing, annoyed, Douxie got up from his chair, pushing poor Archie off onto the ground who looked very unhappy with the action. A few cheers ensued as the two alien royals and troll hunter made themselves comfortable among the others in front of the TV.
“Thanks Douxie, can you get pepperoni.”
Jim smiled genuinely at Douxie as he asked for his order whilst Krel beside him was trying to make up his mind.
“Oh oh ! Can I have the one with the fruit and meet on it...what I’d it called...hoowian...Hawan....”
Struggling to place the name of the pizza Krel scratched his head looking a little frustrated.
Aja suddenly appeared enlightened next to Steve and let out a yell of:
“Hawaiian ! You want Hawaiian pizza !”
Krel smiled at his sister happily who in turn smiled back at her brother before snuggling back into Steve’s side.
“Yes that’s it I want one Hawaiian please.”
Good naturedly, Douxie smiled at him and nodded before heading to the door. His famialir had found a comfortable place next to Claire who was petting him and also shooting away Aaarrghh who was staring at the cat hungrily.
“Alright I’ll be back in fifteen tops.”
Shuffling out of the door, Douxie waved goodbye, only stopping when he felt your hand on his as he turned the doorknob.
“Im coming with you.” You announced, smiling as you did up your jacket. This caused a wide smile to grace Douxie’s lips as he laced your fingers with his holding onto your hand.
“We’ll be quick guys. Nobody make a mess whilst we’re gone !”
Yelling out the last part you shut the door, hoping that your apartment would be in one piece when you got back but knowing it probably wouldn’t. Which was okay. They were your friends: A rag tag group of teenagers, ancient trolls, aliens and wizards.
Outside the sun was setting as the evening faded into dusk. Pinks and oranges melted across the sky as if a paint brush had swirled the sky. It was beautiful.
With Douxie’s hand in yours you both walked down the quiet street, heading towards Mario’s Pizza place in the plaza.
“So, you reckon the place will be in one piece when we get back ?” Douxie let out a little chuckle at his question, already imagining the chaos the group would be causing.
Sighing but with a smile across your face you answered:
“Probably not but that’s okay, it’s part of the charm you know, the unexpexted and exciting. Plus I don’t mind as long as they are all having fun for once.”
You turned a little wistful at the end, recalling in your mind all of the past hardships your friends had endured and probably the many more they’d face in the future. For now though you’d given them a safe space to have fun and be teenagers.
Douxie watched the wistful look on your face appear, and felt a deep admiration for your protectiveness. It was one of the things that had attracted you to him, how strong you were and the lengths you went through to protect others. Plus your snark and sarcasm bounced well off of his flirting.
“Im sure they are love, this was a great idea. Didn’t think you had it in you to think so well.” He joked poking your forehead playfully.
“Oh shut up that’s really rich from the guy who thought the man bun was a good look.” You laughed loudly as Douxie’s face fell at your insult.
A red tint pased across his cheeks as he pulled you into him in a very loose headlock, where he then started to mess up your hair. In response you shrieked, trying to shake his grip as he messed your ponytail up and moved onto tickling you.
“Hisirdoux you stop that right now or I’ll...I’ll...”
You were breathless as you threatened him in between your laughter. Tears started to form at the corners of your eyes as he continually tickled you whilst you guys made you way along the street.
“No can do love. That’s what you get for being cheeky.”
An evil grin could be seen on his face as he kept on tickling you loving the sound of your lighthearted breathless laughter. It had been too long since you’d laughed like that. You’d become so stressed out, continually worrying about your friends who you felt responsible for.
Since you were one of the oldest among the group you’d become a caretaker of sorts. Of course they could handle themselves, Krel and Aja were aliens for Merlins sake, Jim was a troll hunter, Claire a sorceress, Steve apparently had become a knight in Camelot and well Eli and Toby could probably defend themselves plus Aaaargh had been a war machine. Blinky. Blinky had his books.
Whilst your cousin had become the trollhunter and you’d continued going to Arcadia Oaks high starting your senior year with little knowledge of what was really going on, by the end you’d found out everything and even a secret about yourself. You were a sorceress, a desscendant of Morgana La Fay herself. The Arcane Order had sought you out, looking for the descendant of Morgana to join them. Of course you’d refused but they took you prisoner, hiding you captive for weeks. Just when you’d given up all hope of seeing your family and friends again the troll hunter team, along with Douxie saved you. That was the first time you’d met him
Now the pair of you were inseparable.
The others looked up to you, naturally as you were older. Claire came to you for advice or just a girl talk that she didn’t want to share with Darcie or Mary. Jim was your cousin so he was already family to you and you’d do anything for him whilst Tobes you’d known since he was five and watched him grow up. Of course Aja and Krel were new but you’d felt so sad learning about the state of their home world and saw that they were struggling to fit in. You were there go to for human advice or a hug, an earthly custom they’d grown to like. Steve and Eli you weren’t as close to, but you knew Steve was dealing with a lot of stuff, more than he let on and you made sure to go the extra mile to make him feel accepted.
Yeah so you were basically superwoman in Douxie’s eyes. He had no idea how you did it all. But of course it was just natural for you to protect others. You’d lost your own family when you were younger and were very protective of the new one you’d acquired, trolls included.
“You’re amazing love. I mean it (y/n). You’re magic.”
Winking at the end of his pun Douxie watched you roll your eyed in mock annoyance before laughing and squeezing his hand tighter.
“It’s nothing really, I’m just looking out for them. It what you do you know. For family....” You trailed off towards the end of your sentence glancing up at your boyfriend who looked a little surprised at the end of your sentence, but in a good way.
Ever since Merlín had died he’d felt a little lost. Sure he had Archie and whilst his famialir could get on his nerves he loved him like family but he’d been wanting more. Having been alone for so long in his 919 years on earth it tended to leave a yearning for home.
“I bloomin love you (y/n). There’s not a person like you, never had been and never will.”
Douxie confessed seriously, voice heavy with emotion as he twirled you into a hug, arms ensnaring you. Your face met his skull shirt and you took a breath in, loving the scent of old books and indistinguishable herbs that radiated from him. It smelt like warmth and home to you.
“I love you too Doux.”
You reached up and kissed his cheek grinning as they turned a little pink. For a moment the pair of you stayed like that wrapped up in each other’s embrace as the sun set casting a golden glow around you. For the first time in a long time to you felt at peace, like everything would be alright.
That was until you head the smoke alarms going off from your house.
“Fudgeknuckles.”
The pair of you said at the same time as you saw billowing smoke emerge from the end of the street.
————
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mystery666 · 3 years
Text
Dreams of a better life
Part one of suicidal Charles story
Charles was giggling in his dreams he was cuddling Henry the perfect Henry who never left him and treated him like he was actually real. "Thank you Henry for staying with me at least you'll never leave me" Charles said softly hugging Henry closer. "Charles we can only stay together as long as your asleep the Henry out there would never treat you like this" dream Henry said gently caressing Charles lip before leaning in and kissing those soft lips. Charles kissed back he loved his dream Henry but knew that this perfect Henry didn't exist. "I don't want to wake up Henry I dont want to leave you" Charles said softly crying as he began to wake up. Why did real life have to rip him away from his fantasy world Charles woke up with tears on his face looking up at two people laughing at him. Henry and ellie were in his room laughing because Charles never slept in. "get out" Charles said angrily shoving them out of the room. Charles looked back at his pillow seeing his secret under there contemplating using his secret to go back to sleep "not today t-there's too much to do"
Charles sighed getting ready for the day and leaving his house trying not to hear the whispers and nasty remarks about how bad he looked. Charles mental health had been steadily declining ever since someone said that he was basically a burden on the team of triple threat. Ever since he hadnt said much loosing his old cheerful attitude and acting more like Henry only speaking when it was needed. Charles sat in his helicopter and waited for Henry and ellie to get seated Charles took off once they had. "Hey Charles any idea what to do for this mission" Henry asked Charles didn't answer focusing on flying at least he could still enjoy his time in his helicopter. "Charles come on what's got you into this funk come on suggest something for us to do" ellie said. Charles sighed "you don't need or want my help your just pretending" Charles said quietly before hovering above their mission place. "That's it Charles, come on land and come with us" Henry said "that isn't our dynamic you guys infiltrate im the pilot that only helps with transportation" Charles said but Henry and ellie dragged him out onto the mission with them.
Charles felt better during the mission beginning to smile and laugh a little and give little witty remarks. Charles was almost his old self again during the mission until the general yelled at ellie and Henry for breaking from protocol on this mission. "Cool it general if you haven't noticed Charles has seemed miserable for a while we were trying to cheer him up" ellie said. Henry seemed angry because the generals comment had erased the previous wide smile on Charles face. "While I appreciate you guys attempting to cheer him up this mission was too dangerous for that" the general said "it was working" Henry said softly. Charles was told to take a few days off for his own mental health but this made it even worse he began to hurt himself his arms covered in cuts. Charles was sleepy today and didn't get out of bed looking at his knife before he sighed sitting up charles slowly held up the knife inspecting the dried blood on the blade. Charles smiled gently pulling off his bandages and his long sleeves cuts and scars were plentiful on one arm but the other one hadn't been given the same treatment yet.
Charles ran the knife across his wrist feeling a bit of relief at the pain shutting down his head he did this again and again more and more cuts formed on his wrists as he smirked. Once charles felt he had done enough damage to his arm he cleaned up the bloody knife hiding it again and wrapping his wrist in bandages. Charles fell back into his bed laying under his covers and he yawned sleepily before falling asleep for a few hours henry woke him up. charles looked up at henry who told that they were going to lunch with Ellie and charles got up slowly he got his wallet and went with henry and ellie to lunch but several other government soldiers said very rude things to charles. Charles learned that Henry and ellie had lured him here to insult him and he cried taking the sharp knife on the table. All the soldiers Henry and ellie gasped when that knife soon found a new home in Charles chest stabbed into his chest by Charles himself. Charles fell to the ground bleeding and unconscious but he was smiling as he faded out of consciousness expecting the after life.
Charles woke up in a place that was white all over and he saw his perfect Henry smiling. "come with me Charles you'll never have to be alone again we can dance forever" henry said. "What happened i thought I was dead" Charles said softly "no you missed your heart your alive just in a coma" Henry said shifting so he wore a beautiful black tux. Charles took henrys hand and was lead in a dance by his perfect Henry smiling gently he suddenly was wearing a white tux and a red bow tie with gold accents. On the outside all of those soldiers had been severely punished while ellie and Henry were also reprimanded for making a depressed man feel even worse about himself. "Henry im deeply disappointed in you you should know just how bad mental illness is on a person! You've got bipolar disorder" the general shouted at them. Ellie and Henry felt the like the worst friends ever they essentially tried to make him feel better by getting Charles insulted by the meanest cadets in the government forces now Charles was in the hospital in a coma because of their own meanness and stupidity the jerks.
Charles began to wake up really late at night two months later he pulled the stupid things out of his body looking at his chests healed hole. Charles got up putting his clothes back on and he left the hospital he went home and looked at his favorite helicopter plushie which was as big as him. Charles wrapped his arms and legs around it and nuzzled into the softest thing he had in his house which was a pillow he had given to Henry but Henry has returned it because he apparently didn't like soft things. Charles didn't feel that ache in his chest anymore for some reason but he was sure that it would return. Charles yelled at both ellie and Henry that they were the worst friends ever and Henry and ellie told him that they'd try to be better. Charles was silent for a while then told ellie and a few other friends that he had a crush on Henry for a while. "That guy is a player there's no chance he'd ever date you" Rupert said painfully truthful again Charles sighed "i know that but I was hoping he could at least love me A little".
Charles broken heart was the absolute worst feeling he felt empty and broken and he decided that he was going to move. "I'm going to go visit my sister for a few months maybe I'll start to feel better with a change of scenery. Who knows maybe I'll find someone who can actually love me" Charles said softly to Henry and ellie as he packed everything up. Henry and ellie nodded knowing that charles needed something to help him and maybe a visit with his family members would help him with that. when Charles came back three months later everything had seemed to have gone well but Henry got really bad vibes off the guy Charles now called his boyfriend.
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shhh-no-ones-home · 4 years
Text
Tell tale
Loki laufeyson x reader
+++++++++
Unedited so if there are any mistakes sorry lol
(this was also uploaded via mobile so if it's formated weird that's still why)
song: lemons by brye
Tag list: @cynic-spirit
+++++++++
i sat in the lounge with sam and sipped my coffee. it had been sort of a long week and we all finally had a chill day, that is before tonys party tonight. it wasnt exactly a celebration for anything in particular, he just felt like we all needed a break. part of me thought he was right, the other part of me didnt want to deal with it. i took another drink, setting the mug down gently.
"y/n."
i heard from behind me, loki announcing himself as he came in.
"loki."
i said, nodding back as he moved to pour himself a cup of tea. i glanced up at him for maybe a second too long, hearing sam clear his throat. he grabbed my attention immediately asking me what the deal was with just the look on his face. i shrugged at him before looking down and opening the magazine that was sat in front of me.
"you two friends now or something?"
i sent loki a look, noting sam looking between the two of us. i shrugged again.
"or something."
i said looking back to the magazine, turning the page.
"oh?"
he asked.
"id say 'or something' is a bit right."
loki said, sitting down at the table next to me and looking over my shoulder at the magazine.
"that looks interesting."
he said, noting the plate of food on the page. i nodded in agreement.
"maybe we could try it sometime."
i said flipping the page again. he sipped his tea, leaning forward and resting his chin on my shoulder to read along too. sam cleared his throat again.
"ya know what, im just gonna go. i dont exactly know whats happening here but its making me feel weird."
both of our eyes followed him as he left without another word. when he was gone i shrugged and went back to reading. i heard loki sigh against my neck.
"are we ever going to tell them? you have been getting more comfortable with the touching in public."
i asked, turning another page. i felt him kiss my neck gently.
"all in due time my dear."
i turned my head to look at him and he leaned in and kissed me quickly.
"i promise."
°°°°°°°°°
the music filled my ears as we all gathered for tonys party. there were agents here that i hadnt seen in a while, along with the whole team. i laughed as Bucky and Clint argued back and forth, a few of the team shaking their heads at them. I looked up long enough to see Loki cross over to the bar, people sending him weird looks as he went. Half of me felt sorry for him, I know he can be shifty at times but he really had be learning since arriving at the compound. We'd been talking back and forth, and he actually let me teach him about earth stuff now that it would be his permanent home.
"I'll be right back."
I said, standing off the couch, glass in hand. I walked slowly to the bar, nodding at a few people as I passed them. When I got to the bar I stood next to Loki but not too close.
"Whisky on the rocks please."
I asked the bar tender, receiving a nod as she began working on the order.
"Have you thought about it?"
I asked, looking at Loki through the mirror behind the bar. He took a sip of his own drink, dipping his hand into his pocket as he looked back at me. He tapped a paper onto the bar just as the bartender set my glass down, it landing atop the paper.
"Thank you."
I said, dropping cash into the tip jar. I picked the glass up, along with the note and stepped away from the bar, making my way out into the hall. When I was alone I opened it and sighed in annoyance. It said 'darling we can wait.' I rolled my eyes before crumpling it and shoving it deep in my dress' pocket, sipping from my glass. Of course he still wasn't ready. It's not like we'd been casual since he arrived or anything and that was months ago. I leaned against the wall in defeat, downing my whiskey in one fowl swoop.
"Drinking that much is bad for you."
I heard from him. I tapped my fingers lightly against the empty glass.
"Some could say the same for you yet here we are."
I glanced over at him with an annoyed look, watching him inch closer to me.
"Don't be upset darling. You know how people around here feel about me. And I know how they feel about you."
He stood above me, looking deep into my eyes, a softness to his features.
"You're important around here my love, not just to them all but to me as well. I won't let my tarnished reputation soil your good name."
He ran his fingers gently across my cheek, brushing my hair behind my ear as he leaned over me.
"You say that but I don't care. Not anymore. Maybe at the beginning but we've been together for months. I'm not afraid of what they'll say about me anymore. I..."
I looked down for a second, making sure I actually wanted to do this. I nodded once before looking back up at him, searching his face.
"I love you Loki."
He smiled at me, leaning a little closer  and holding my jaw gently in his hand.
"I love you too."
He said just above a whisper, leaning in and kissing me passionately.
"I was wondering how long this would take."
Tony said, making us break apart quickly. We both looked at him, a blush creeping its way to my face.
"How long have you known?"
I asked, Loki stepping into my side and sliding his hand in mine. I looked down in disbelief before looking back at him.
"We've all suspected for a while."
He said, making me look at him, and the now gathering team members.
"Took you long enough."
Bucky said, raising a glass.
"I believe it's safe to say they approve darling."
Loki said, looking down at me admiringly. I laughed a little bit.
"Thanks guys."
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stargazing-enby · 5 years
Note
Prompt for yoooou!!! "All that time we were together I was thinking about him" (you can chose the pairing)
(Thanks, dear! I somehow managed not to make this angsty, which I’m proud of xD).
Drarry (past Hinny) | 800 words | Teen and up | Post-Hogwarts, Therapy Session, Anxious Harry Potter | Read on AO3 | Read part 2 on Tumblr
***
“All the time we were together, I was thinking about him.”
Harry didn’t dare look up in the silence that followed. They’d been talking about Ginny for what, three sessions now? And Harry had thought about saying those words out loud over and over again, only to swallow them back into the pit of emptiness that was his chest, too ashamed to admit it. Too scared it would become real the moment he voiced it.
“Was this why you were so quiet last week?” Jane asked. “Because you wanted to tell me this, but couldn’t get the words out?”
How did she know him so well? Therapists have superpowers, mate, Ron would’ve said.
His voice shook when he mumbled a strained, “Maybe.” He swallowed. Lying was no use, was it? “…Yeah.”
“What kind of thoughts did you have about him?”
The fact she knew exactly who that ‘him’ referred to without Harry having to say his name upset him. Had he really talked that much about Draco?
“I… I’d tell Ginny about my day, and when she replied, I’d imagine what he would say in her place. I’d think about him while I cooked — about how he’s always saying how much he loves an extra bit of salt on his food. I’d—” He bit his lip. Was he really going to say it? “I’d fantasise about him, too. In… bed.”
And to think he’d started going to therapy because he’d died and come back to life… he felt deeply embarrassed, but the tightness in his chest was already starting to ease as he let out the thoughts he’d been fighting to keep inside.
Merlin, but did he feel weird.
“Do you still think about him now that you’re single?”
Harry raised his head when he realised he was staring at his own fidgety hands. He smiled awkwardly at her. “You know I do.”
She smirked back at him. “I do. I wanted to know if you’d admit it.”
“Yeah, well, that wasn’t easy to say,” he mumbled, trying to lighten the mood. Then he forced his next thought out before he could change his mind. “I should also admit that… that I think I love him. I… I may have for a very long time now. I’m not sure, though.”
“What’s your definition of love?”
Ah, that was the question, wasn’t it? Perhaps if he knew the answer he wouldn’t be so damn lost, but alas, Harry hadn’t exactly had much love in his life. Not even when he’d thought he had.
“I don’t know. If I’m honest, I only called it love because that’s the word everyone uses when they can’t stop thinking about someone else, and about just being with them.” He was fidgeting again, but he couldn’t do anything about it. “I just want Draco by my side, all the time. I adore his sarcastic remarks, and I like it when he talks Quidditch with me, and — Merlin, I even love the way he sneezes, he’s just too cute. And when I’m with him, it’s like… like we walk at the same pace. When I’m with him, I don’t feel like being left alone, which usually happens with everyone else but Ron and Hermione.”
When he looked up again, Jane was smiling, this time in amusement. Harry brought a hand to his hair, sighing. He felt so stupid.
“I think what you’re describing matches the definition of infatuation, Harry. Or as you kids call it nowadays… a crush. There’s nothing wrong with that, of course, but seeing as it’s been going on for so long and it’s making you upset, perhaps it’s time to consider doing something about it.”
A chill passed through Harry, and the only thought he could process was that he did not want to cut Draco from his life. Under no circumstances.
“Do you mean that as in…”
“I mean it as in doing something you haven’t tried before. Like telling a friend how you feel, or perhaps, if you think it’s safe, telling him how you feel. Do you trust him enough to do that? Do you think he’d be understanding about it?”
“I—” Harry stuttered. “I mean, we’re friends. More or less. But I don’t think I can do it.” Or could he? Fuck, the mere idea was unravelling a sea of hypothetical scenarios in his mind, and each one was crazier than the last. But there was just too much between them. And how would he even explain? How could he tell Draco he’d been fantasising about him while dating Ginny? What if he ruined their friendship?
What if… what if Draco liked him too?
Feeling brave, he closed his fists to keep his fingers still and said the words that were blooming inside him, powerful and thrilling. “Or… you know what? Perhaps I can try.”
Read part 2 on Tumblr | AO3 
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Text
Second Chances
Pairing: Steve Rogers x OC Amelia (Avengers AU)
Summary: Amelia Warren is heart broken when her boyfriend Steve Rogers decides to go back to the past to be with Peggy Carter. While intoxicated Amelia decides to go back in time to warn herself not to fall for Steve Rogers, at least she can stop an alternative version of herself from getting hurt!
But what happens when Amelia doesn't end up where she intended.... the world she's in completely different. This new world is in ruin and full of monsters with glowing eyes that only ever existed on TV and In books.
A/N - Sorry i suck at summaries!! Also ���read more not working!’ If you would like to be tagged drop me an ask or message ❤️
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Amelia stood looking at the empty platform where seconds before her boyfriend had been standing, smiling happily at her and his best friends Bucky and Sam.
Steve hadn't returned when Bruce hit the button, he had blown passed his time stamp. Bucky was the one who spotted him, an old Steve Rogers sitting on a bench overlooking the lake.
"Sweetheart, his asking to see you?" Sam said walking over to her carrying Steve's shield.
"No. I don't want to talk to him..... he left me for her didn't he? Went back to his precious Peggy?" Amelia said crying freely as she felt her heart break, she loved Steve with everything she had and he had just thrown her away for the woman he really loved.
"You should let him explain...."
"No! i wish id never met Steve Rogers!" She spat as she turned and ran to her car, she was soon speeding away not even glancing back at the man she loved.
"Give her some time, im sure she'll come around" Bucky had told Steve with a tight lipped smile, he didn't know Amelia that well but he already knew she wouldn't come around anytime soon!
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It was quiet at the compound now with only Amelia, Bucky, Sam and Wanda left. Clint was back at his farm with his family and Thor had left with the Guardians.....It was easy to avoid people and mope around in self pity, Amelia had been drinking Tonys good Whisky for hours now without any interruptions.
Finally she had decided to head back to the room she had shared with Steve.....she was surprised when the door slid open and Bucky walked in, he leant again the door frame looking around at the boxes surrounding her.
"What you doing?"
"Packing Steve's shit, i don't want to have to look at it everyday. Feel free to take anything you might want"
"I know your mad...."
"Mad?? Mad doesn't even start to cover it Bucky. I wish i could go back and erase the moment i ever met Steve Rogers, or at least warn myself not to fall for his charm!"
"Come on doll you don't mean that" Bucky sighed dropping down on the sofa beside me.
"I do! I loved him so much.... and i thought he loved me too. God how stupid was i?! 8 years of my life wasted loving a man who just up and left me for a woman he liked a 100 years ago!!"
"I don't think it was a 100 years...."
"You get what i mean!" Amelia snapped giving Bucky a glare.
"Yeah i know, I'm sorry"
"Why are you not mad at him?? He left you too!"
"We've been through so much together.... i just want him to be happy"
"Your a good man Bucky Barnes"
"Im far from it....."
"You are. Maybe i should go back in time and tell myself to wait for you"
"Id be a lucky man doll" Bucky smiled over at her "i know we dont know each other that well but... Steve was an idiot leaving you behind" he put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close pressing a kiss to her head.
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Amelia was stood on the platform wearing one of the time travel suits, after Bucky had fallen asleep she decided that her idea of going back to before she met Steve was an amazing idea! She had got into Bruce's lab and grabbed a couple vile's of Pimm Particles and then headed out to the lake  where the platform was still set up.
Switching on the monitors and entering the date she wanted to go to, a date she knew she hadn't met Steve Rogers yet.
Amelia knew deep down she shouldn't be doing this but her whisky fuelled brain thought this was the best idea she'd ever had! And no one would know, she'd be back before anyone woke up and found her gone.
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Amelia doubled over and emptied her stomach, time travelled sucked! When she looked around everything was different..... she was stood in an empty overgrown field.....This must have been what it looked liked before Tony had his home built here, something felt very off about this place.
She finally decided to head up to the road, she would start making her way back to the compound where she would find her younger self training for SHIELD and warn her about falling for the Captain and be home again in a flash. Only when she reached the road it was deserted, she walked for hours and saw nothing.
"What the hells going on..." she said out loud to herself as she stopped and looked around.... it was like something out of a movie... waking up to find out zombies had taken over and everyone was dead!
Oh my god what if its zombies!
A noise to her right caught her attention and she slowly made her way towards it through some bushes, when she stepped out there was an old gas station that looked like it had been closed for years.
Amelia carefully made her way over and peered into the window looking for any sign of someone living. There was movement inside, looked like a man from the build. She stood up deciding that she would go and ask the man for some help but as she stood she knocked over a metal bin! She looked up through the window just in time to see the man turn towards her.... staring at her with glowing orange eyes!!!
Amelia got to her feet and took off running! Where the fuck was she?? What kind of man had glowing orange eyes?!!!! She felt like she had been running for hours, but it hadnt been that long, turning back to see if the orange eyed man had followed she sighed with relief seeing she was alone again. Amelia knew she couldn't stick around here too long she had to carry on before he caught up again. As she turned to start running again she collided with a hard body and fell on her ass, looking up she saw those glowing Orange eyes again, the man looked at her like she was the most delicious thing he had ever seen and he wanted to devour her right here on the road!
He grabbed her by the arms and pulled her to her feet, he leant forward and buried his face into her neck taking a deep inhale and letting out a moan. Amelia grabbed hold of the man and flipped him easily getting ready to defend herself, she'd faced worse things than this before. He looked surprised that she was fighting back but was soon on her again, he wouldn't give up!
Suddenly he was forcefully pulled away from her, the sound of electricity and and a thump as he body fell to the floor beside her.
"You okay?" A woman asked walking towards her, Amelia's eyes went wide seeing the familiar woman.
"Its you..... how.... Nat?" Amelia said with tears in her eyes seeing the woman who looked like her best friend.... her best friend who had died getting the soul stone to defeat Thanos.
"Mia??...." Nat asked looking just as surprised to see her, she too had tears in her eyes "we thought you were dead!!"
Amelia was rushed by Nat and enveloped in her arms.
"Nat.... what the hell.... where did you go??" Came the all too familiar voice of Steve Rogers!!!
"Steve..... your never going to believe this....." Nat started to say, she pulled away and Amelia got a good glimpse of him. Steve looked more like he did when they were on the run, his hair was longer his beard full. He looked tired, they both did.
"Oh my god..... Mia??! is that really you??" He asked with wide eyes as he took a few steps closer.
"Steve....." She was cut off by his big arms wrapping around her pulling her close to him.
"Where have you been?? we thought you were dead!"
"Steve..... we need to talk" Amelia said pulling herself out of his hold, as good as it felt she was still pissed at Steve for leaving her!! Even if this wasnt her Steve!
"Sweetheart whats wrong? Its fine we're back together now"
"Im not YOUR Amelia"
"What?"
"Im not from here...."
"Did you hit your head? Your not making any sense...." Nat said looking confused.
"Im fine. Its kinda complicated....."
"Well we're listening...."
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angrylizardjacket · 5 years
Text
and then there was light [4] {Roger Taylor}
A/N: 5060 words. part 4? part 4. it’s a bit of a darker one and before you ask, there will be a part 5, you know i wouldn’t end it on a cliffhanger and do you dirty like that.
[part 1] [part 2] [part 3]
The moment Roger steps foot into the meeting about the design of the shows for the upcoming American legs of the ‘Night at the Opera’ world tour, he’s pretty sure he’s already mentally checked out. Freddie’s doing all the talking, to literally no-one’s surprise; the man has big ambitions for his own costumes, and knows the other guys will pipe up about their own needs when they get to meet with just the costume designer. John Reid brings up the technical requirements, Roger’s got the ‘galileo’s from Bohemian Rhapsody playing on repeat in his head as he stares into the middle distance, and it’s Deaky who sits forward.
“We’ve got a pretty solid idea for the lights; Freddie and I have been consulting with a designer in America; she’s freelance, used to work for EMI, she’s reliable.” He assures, and Roger’s thinking ‘hey that sounds familiar’ but Reid seems satisfied and they’re already moving on to the staging and sound equipment needed. 
Roger doesn’t connect the dots at first; it’s been almost four years since that fateful American tour, and they’ve had other tours come and go since, and as far as the others are concerned, they’re pretty sure he hasn’t spared you a thought since arriving home at the end of that tour. But he does, even if he doesn’t mean to.
The tour after you’d quit working for EMI, someone drops a parcan side of stage, and his heart is in his throat when he realises he was waiting to hear you yell ‘okay that one wasn’t my fault’ or something similar. All he hears is a faint apology, and a call from someone to get a broom. The scheduling’s different this time around, he can’t even have a cigarette in an empty theatre without some stagehand buzzing back and forth, or a band member trotting across the stage as they practice. It would be so much easier to lay on the stage if the rest of them were confined to one place while they played, like he was behind the drums. It’d be boring as shit, he would be the first to acknowledge that, but it would mean he would get stepped on less during lunch, and that’s a sacrifice he’s willing to make with the toe of Freddie’s shoe poking at his waist.
Nothing serious had come his way in that time, or rather, he’d never found anyone who could hold his attention for more than a week or two. People became dreadfully boring when all they wanted to do was faun over him and fuck him; not that it wasn’t fun at first, it was always fun at first, but there was a lack of variety, a sinking sensation that these people were more attracted to the idea of him that left a sour aftertaste.
But now he’s here, new company, new album, second leg of the new tour, new chance to sample all different women across this great nation. He’s already a little tipsy from his multiple jack and coke’s on the plane when they land, and he’s passed out on the tour bus before it even gets to the first tour stop. Once in Conneticut, he’s dragged from the bus, and informed that as soon as the tech crew had finished their meeting, they could start loading in their instruments. 
“How long have they been here?” Brian asks the stage hand, and the guy shrugs. 
“A couple of hours; the Floor Tech wanted the drum risers set up before she gave the brief.” He tells them as he lead the band in to the theatre, where most of the crew were milling about on stage. 
“She always did have a flare for the dramatic.” John says with a grin where his eyes were trained on the stage, and Freddie hums in agreement, which only serves to confuse Roger further until he sees an all too familiar figure climbing the drum risers with a clipboard in hand.
“Alright guys, can I have your attention, please?” Even after all these years, the sound of your voice hits Roger square in the chest. “I wanna make this as quick and painless as possible, so after today we can bump in and bump out without any hassles.” You addressed the crowd with an easy confidence from your place at the top of the drum risers, tapping your nails against the back of the clipboard in your hands, wearing the overalls he’d seen you in so many times before.
“You can call me Spotlight; I’m the Head Floor Tech for the tour, as well as lighting designer; those of you on my lighting team, you’ve got a copy of the lighting plan, and I’ll be talking to you about how we’re gonna run it after this. Next time, I’ll get some help from the stage hands to set up the drum risers, I had a few people help me today to get them set up early, but that’s just because I like being tall.” With a sharp grin you pause as a titter of laughter spreads around the group, “stage management team, you’re in charge of making sure side of stage is set up with anything the band needs, and that it’s clear of unnecessary clutter and people, and running cabling for the sound guys; they’ll tell you what they need.”
After a beat, you look around the gathered crowd, and nod firmly, a gesture which a few of them return.
“If you have any questions, remember; find your Light.” You point directly at yourself. “We break for lunch at one, but until then we’ve got a lot to get through; let’s get rockin’.” Grinning brightly, you hop down from the risers into the crowd of crew members, ushering a bunch, each holding a sheet of paper, off to the side, as the others scattered like cockroaches under light.
“What the fuck is she doing here?” Roger finally finds his voice where he’s still standing, a little dumbstruck, alone in the aisle of the theatre where the others had left him behind.
“Didn’t you hear her speech? Spotlight’s our lighting designer.” Freddie calls over his shoulder, eyes wide and innocent, as if he hadn’t set this all up without thinking to mention it to Roger.
“Our what now?” He splutters, jogging a little to catch up to the other band members as they made their way towards the stage. He’s not quite sure what he’s doing, or what will happen when he gets their; the last thing you’d said to him was that you were stupid to think he was above his reputation, while you were in tears, and then it had been three years of nothing. He’s not going to run, at least he’s pretty sure he’s not; he’s self aware enough to know he was in the wrong last time you spoke, that he was an asshole, but he’s not going to be a coward. Not again.
“That was quite the speech.” John waits patiently until the crew who made up the lighting team had dispersed before addressing the familiar face at the centre. You turn, eyes bright and smile brighter, casually making your way towards him and the rest of the band.
“Yeah, I really feel in my element, you know?” It’s with an easy familiarity that you pull John into a hug, giving him a firm squeeze. “Good to finally see you again.” And then you’re hugging Freddie, and then Brian, and you stop short in front of Roger. It’s a stalemate, neither one wanting to be the first to look away, but both unsure of what to do. In the end, you don’t even offer him a handshake, just nod, and you turn back to the others.
“How’s Pippin been?” Freddie asks, and you’re about to answer, but Roger cuts in.
“Hang on, can someone fill me in here? Lovely to see you, by the way, just a little confused as to how you got here.” He says, and you’re lost for words, just blinking rapidly, trying to process the whole situation.
“Did you not tell him I was working with you guys?” Your words come out incredulous as you turn your gaze upon John and Freddie, who seem just as bewildered as you.
“I thought he’d cotton on when I mentioned an American designer who used to work for EMI.” John mused, turning his gaze on Roger, who frowned, thinking back to the initial meeting he’d just mentioned.
“I did,” Brian piped up, before casting a smile at John and Freddie that was just a little bit confused, “though I wasn’t a part of this little setup.” He tried to reassure the drummer.
“In my defense,” Roger started, before his gaze dropped, “I wasn’t paying attention, design isn’t exactly my forte.” He admitted, and you had to shake your head at that, exasperated and already a exhausted.
“Pippin’s good.” You go back to John’s initial question. Pippin isn’t so much a person as it is a touring version of a Broadway musical that had opened a year ago, to great success.
It turns out a written letter of recommendation from both the lead singer, and bass player of Queen goes rather far in the industry. After taking some time for yourself, you call up EMI to beg them not to fire you, however it turns out you needn’t have; both John and Freddie had given glowing reports of your work ethic and skill, and the man on the other end of the line is just eager to know when you were next available. 
The moment you’re on site next, they tell you you’ve been promoted to Floor Tech; they hand you a roll of gaff tape and a drill and a whole new set of responsibilities, heaped onto your usual load. You don’t even remember who had been performing, the tour had only lasted a month, all you know is that they were calling you Spotlight from the moment you’d arrived; apparently it was what Freddie had called you, and John had to clarify.
John is the first to contact you again, through EMI of course, and he becomes something of a comfort when you consider taking your career beyond the company that kept you firmly in the one position on tour. Freddie calls you less often, and never about business; it’s John who gives you the courage to leave EMI, and he’s the one who helps set up as a freelance theatre and event crew member. 
People had been head hunting you from tour to tour, beyond even EMI, some smaller acts even giving you the full Lighting Designer role. They expect you to sit back, let a stage hand or an assistant to take care of it, but every time you watch someone else focus a spot, your fingers itch to be doing it yourself. Dedicated to a fault, Roger had once called you, you think about it every time you climb an unsteady ladder, and think perhaps that he’s right.
The moment Pippin announces it’s tour, and puts out calls for crew, you’re first in line for the job, putting your hat in the ring for lighting, but happy enough to take any crew role. Not that you don’t love working with bands, but there’s a certain finesse that comes with theatre lighting that you can’t get anywhere else in the world. After two years, and the support of both John and Freddie, you find yourself as the assistant Lighting Designer, as well as Head Floor Tech, and once you step foot onto the tour bus, everything else becomes history.
Speaking of history, later in the day, after the rest of the crew have broken for lunch, you’re wedged under the drum risers, running some cables, when you hear someone climb up them, taking a seat at the drums.
“If you play one beat-” You’re cut off by Roger’s yell of surprise, as he’s so startled he almost falls off his chair.
“Holy shit, who is that?” He’s breathing heavily, voice panicked, and for a moment you take pleasure imagining clutching his hand to his chest like a delicate, little grandmother.
“Take a wild stab in the dark,” you mutter, unwedging yourself from beneath the structure, raising an eyebrow as you look at him. Almost immediately he’s frowning, and you’re thrown back to the moment almost three years ago where you’d been here before, looking up at him from behind the drum risers after you’d changed out the light mid-show. Clearing your throat loudly, you break the moment, getting to your feet and making your way to the side of the stage.
“What are you doing here?” He calls, watching idly as you go about counting out fly lines until you get to the one you’d been looking for. You’d gotten here early to go through the fly-line procedure with the Duty Tech for the venue, and now you lowered the LX bar it was attached to with ease after making sure there was no-one in the way. Your focus made something in his chest tighten, and he feels like he’s being taken back in time; you’re beautiful when you work, passionate and skilled, meticulous, that hadn’t changed. Roger has to look away.
“My job,” and you just sound tired when you say it, already securing the meticulously placed lights onto the bar you’d just lowered, going along and fixing them to the metal in a neat line. An uncomfortable silence spreads between you, punctuated only by the scrape of metal against metal, and the rattle of the safety chains.
“What are you doing here?” You don’t even try to hide the snippiness from your voice, not even turning to look at his as the accusatory words hang in the air.
“I’m having a smoke in what I thought was going to be relative peace, it’s something I do, okay?” Voice defensive, you hear the rustle of cardboard and hear the click of a cigarette, your annoyance growing with each passing moment.
“No, it’s what I do. It’s what I did three years ago, you just started showing up. You stole my relative peace.” You snapped, turning to him, a blazing fury in your eyes at his words, before your lip curled in disgust, “And you don’t even do anything with it.” You scoffed, and he went quiet, sulking behind his drum kit. Sensing he wasn’t got to talk back you turn back to your work.
The moment you turn away, he sees the way you heave a sigh, angry tension draining from your shoulders, a little hunched as you concentrated. Your hands shake a little as you fiddle with the safety chains. There’s still that confidence there, the ease with which you moved about the stage, but unlike around other people, when it was just Roger - though he suspected you were pretending he wasn’t there - you just looked... weary.
After that first town, he keeps his distance for a few stops, though the other band members look to keep you company on occasion. But then... he’s there again. Quiet this time, he just watches where you hold yourself like royalty at the top of a rickety ladder, so sure of yourself. He’d forgotten the sight of you in your element, and it hits him like a truck.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” You snap when you chance a glance down and see his awestruck expression looking up at you. The shock comes when he actually looks abashed, averting his gaze, picking up his drumsticks and tapping out a rhythm that you’re pretty sure you recognise.
You’re both too stubborn to give the other one the peace of the theatre at lunch, however, while you’re content with stewing in silence as you worked, Roger, to no-one’s surprise, is not.
“How’ve you been?” He brings himself to ask. You stop where you’re replacing a gel on one of the drum riser lights, taking a long moment to consider your words carefully.
“Busy.” Tired. The subtext comes through loud and clear, despite your short answer, and once you’d finished with the light, you stand, before taking a moment to stretch your back out from behind hunched over.
“Working a lot?” I can tell. He answers after a long pause, almost sympathetic, and you know he’s not really responding to the words you’d said out loud.
“Yeah, non stop.” No subtext, just responding at face value, before your eyes up to the mostly finished rig. Afternoons were for last minute fixes and focusing, there wasn’t much left you could do, unless you were willing to ask for Roger’s help.
“When did your last thing end?” He asks, and you click your tongue as you turn on your heel, burned out gel in your hand, heading for a bin.
“Two days before this one.” You admitted. When you’re met with silence, you turn, and Roger’s frowning at you, almost disbelieving.
“You’re not still sleeping on the tour bus, are you?” He asks, and you roll your eyes before you tell him your accommodation is paid for this time around. You’re the first to leave, for the first time since everything had started, you leave halfway through to actually eat lunch, leaving Roger to himself.
When he’s drunk after the show, leaning against some local pub, with a girl leaning against him, heavy enough that the two of them would have tipped over if it wasn’t for the counter, he can’t get you out of his mind.
“I didn’t ruin her career.” His eyes go wide as the words, with something akin to revelation, escape him, and the girl makes a noise of confusion, her fingers ghosting over his chest, but he can’t even bring himself to enjoy it.
“I didn’t ruin her career!” He announces, excited and pleased in his inebriated state, sitting himself so forcefully on the arm of Freddie’s chair that he spills part of his drink. Freddie makes a noise of confusion, looking up at the blonde, and Roger gesticulates enough to spill more of his drink, ignoring Freddie’s yelp. “Spotlight! She said I’d ruined her career!” 
“When?” Freddie asks, just as John pops out from seemingly nowhere.
“Well you certainly didn’t help it. That was me.” Roger doesn’t care that John’s drunk, the way bassist says it, so serene and matter-of-fact, makes it sting just a little bit worse. His mood instantly flips.
“Can you piss off? Go be her best friend somewhere else.” Roger snapped, and he knew he’d regret being so sharp with John the following morning, but it seemed John himself knew that Roger was in a mood, and obligingly fucked off, seemingly not taking it to heart. “When we broke up, she accused me of ruining her career.” And he realises too late, when Freddie’s eyes go wide with realisation, that he’s said too much.
“Is this where you tell me exactly what went down between you two?” He asked, tapping Roger’s leg with excitement. The blonde, however, stood abruptly, glower on his face.
“No. Fuck off.” 
Roger spends almost fifteen minutes banging on the door of the tour bus before he remembers that you’re not in there, and falls into bed alone, fully clothed.
“The fuck did you say to Freddie last night?” The moment he steps foot onto the stage at lunch, you’re waiting for him, already livid. He’s tempted to turn and walk right back out the door. “Apparently he doesn’t know the real reason that I went home last ti- !” 
“Of course he doesn’t!” Roger snapped back, on the defensive without a moment’s hesitation. “It makes me look like a fucking wanker and he’d kick my ass; he adores you!” And that was enough to shock you into silence, grip loosening on the gaff tape in your hands. “They all do.” He said, and your expression turns unreadable.
“I know.” You finally said, a new, strange quality to your voice, it’s something akin to shock, but not quite, and Roger doesn’t know what to say next. “What about you?” You finally ask, voice a little defensive. It hurts to see you look at him with such a judgemental eye, though he’s well aware he deserves it.
“Doesn’t matter, does it? I could apologise a thousand times and you’d still be pissy.” He huffs, and you cross your arms, cocking your hip.
“At least once would be nice.” You level a cold glare at him and his gaze snaps back at yours, surprised. “You never once apologised, you know that?” And your voice is low, hurt and honest. “Are you even sorry for what happened?”
“It was three years ago-” He sighs, but you cut him off, shifting your weight to your other foot, swallowing thickly.
“So that’s a no. Glad to see where you stand.” And you turn to cross the stage to where you’ve already got the ladder set up, but he makes his way to you in three long strides, making to grab at your upper arm. The moment he does, however, you whirl around, slapping him, hard. “I told you to never fucking touch me; did you think I forgot?” And he sees why you were so eager to leave; there’s tears in your eyes, so close to breaking and streaming down your cheeks, your lip trembling. Something about your voice is so raw, it hurts worse than the slap.
“I am sorry.” And he sounds so fucking sincere, but you just glare at him, unashamed where the tears have begun to track down your cheeks. 
“You had your chance to say sorry; you had your chance to beg for forgiveness, but you told me I could leave; so I did, and so did your fucking opportunity.” But you can’t bring yourself to step back, frozen in place where he’s less than a foot away. Every fibre of your being is betraying you, wanting to be around him, close to him, after what he did.
“I’m sorry what happened between us;” his voice is so level, carefully controlled, you know he’s think hard about what he’s about to admit, “I fucked up, I know that; I’m sorry. It was three years ago but I’m still sorry. I’ve been sorry for a long time now.”
“Since it happened?” You asked, and he didn’t drop your gaze, answering without flinching or hesitation.
“Since I started worrying I’d lose you; I know what I’m like, I knew what I’d end up doing.” He admitted, and the words clearly didn’t have his intended impact as you stumble back, free hand clutching your chest.
“And yet you still-” And quietly, so quietly you’re not even sure he hears it, the words come out as more of a defeated whimper than anything else; “How could you not tell I was in love with you?” 
He’s in shock, and you barge past him, leaving as you can no longer contain your aching heart, and you head to the hotel you were staying at down the road, taking the rest of the lunch break to cry.
When you return, the rest of the crew has filtered in, Roger looks guilty, and Freddie and John look about ready to commit violent homicide, which was unsurprising for Freddie, but there was something comforting about Deaky wearing the expression too. In less than a week, the whole crew knows, and wherever you go, you feel yourself followed by pitying stares, which won’t go away, no matter how hard you throw yourself into your work.
“You’re working yourself into the ground.” Roger tells you a week later, watching the way your arms tremble as you focus a light, and it takes you a moment to blink blearily at him. “Don’t forget the security chain.” He adds, and you scowl, before looking at the light itself, and hurriedly affix the security chain to the rig. You insist that you’re fine, making your way down the ladder to scoop up another parcan, but you almost immediately drop it. 
“I just need some food.” You try to insist, your hands shaking as you leave the light where it is.
You don’t come out after shows, and it’s not gone unnoticed. The rest of the crew think you’re just dedicated, personable for the most part but prone to bouts of standoffishness.
“Oh you should have seen her on our first tour,” Freddie muses to an enraptured crowd at an afterparty, a few crew members listening with a bright-eyed attention, “that woman risked life and limb for our show.” And he sounds so proud when he says it, but something twists uncomfortably in Roger’s gut.
Cracks don’t show around other people, Roger’s noticed; you’re smile’s bright enough and your voice is loud enough that they don’t see the way your hands shake. Or how tired your eyes are. But then there are moments, you stand as if in the eye of the storm, gaff tape and drill in hand, watching as people follow your instructions without question, and you look up to see Roger tweaking his drums, and the two of you share a look. It’s a little indecipherable, he’s concerned and you’re just... tired. He wants to offer to help, but as soon as the moment arrives, it’s passed, and you’re off to the next task.
The air between the two of you has lost it’s angry tension; after saying your peace, after hearing his apology, there’s no fight left. Just a lingering disappointment, a quiet like the moment after a world-weary sigh. You don’t have to pretend around Roger, you both know he’d see through it if you’d tried.
“You should come get a drink after; you look like you need it.” Roger laughs, but there’s no humour in it. Without missing a beat, you decline, you don’t even bother coming up with an excuse. 
“I’m worried about you.” The tour is almost three weeks in, and you’re asleep against the proscenium arch when he walks in. You wake with a start at the sound of his voice, reaching out for the light you’d been fiddling with before you’d passed out. When you look to him with confusion, he repeats himself slowly. “I’m worried about you; are you sleeping okay?” 
“As if that’s any of your business.” You snapped back, and Roger kept quiet. It only takes him a day to figure out that sleep isn’t really a luxury you allowed yourself; you were the last out every night after bump out, sometimes staying until two in the morning, and from what the crew said, you were always the first up, running through check lists, accident reports, and going over anything that needed maintenance. 
When Freddie asks you to come out with them after a gig, you find it difficult to say no, he helped get you this job after all, but you’re there for barely half an hour before Roger sees you slip out the side door, drink untouched.
John asks if you’re okay one afternoon when you drop a stack of gel frames without warning, jumping almost a foot in the air and looking like you’re about to break into tears from shock, but seems content when you explain you’re just tired. Tired doesn’t even begin to cover how overworked you are.
The night you finally decide to relax a little, bump out having been miraculously fast, you’ve got the next day off. The others cheer you on as you down drink after drink, the alcohol hitting you hard and quickly, and the world gets blurry as you find yourself on the dance floor. It’s easy to drink too much, because for the first time in a long time, you’re relaxed, not worrying about the pretty, dickhead blonde who worries about you when he really shouldn’t. 
You’re drunk enough to admit to yourself that part of you likes the attention he’s giving you, it feels like vindication for the heartache you went through all those years ago. Part of it’s not even vindictive, part of you just likes the way he looks at you, the way his smile made your heart beat just a little faster; you call that part a fucking traitor and have another drink.
You don’t remember leaving the bar, but you come back to your body when you’re leaning against a streetlight for support, halfway through telling someone to fuck off.
“Ya’ not my caretaker, Roger,” you sneer, “you don’t need to look after me or whatever this is. Go help groupies home or to hotel or whatever.” You spit, and push off from the light, turning on your heel, almost topple over, and right yourself.
“Light, that’s the wrong way.” He calls, exasperated, and you turn again, this time actually crashing to the ground and grazing your hand on the way, before you get to your feet. He’s come over to try and help you, but you swat him away.
“You don’t get to call me that.” You stalk ahead of him in the direction he had come from, back toward the hotel, and he follows only a few steps behind.
“Fine, Y/N; you’re legless, let me help.” And after a moment of intense eye contact, in which you try to weigh up your options, you begrudgingly loop your arm through his.
“You’re still on my shit-list.” You inform him, and he hums in acknowledgement. “Why are you doing this?” You follow it up with.
“I’m not the asshole who fucked you over three years ago, and I’m not gonna let you get yourself killed for this show.” He said through gritted teeth, and you just smiled, a little dreamily.
“But what a way to go.” And he came to an abrupt stop. It took you a moment to realise, and looking back, you tugged on his arm to keep him moving. He just frowned at you, a little concerned. “Fuck, I didn’t mean it.”
“If I have to fire you to get you to take a break-” He threatened, and you scoffed, expression turning bitter.
“I’ll drop a light on you.”
“You’ll drop a light on me by accident before then anyways!” He crowed, and your expression fell, contemplative. “Just let me help; what do I have to do to make you actually rest? What do I have to do to prove myself?”
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fiftyshadesgrl · 5 years
Text
He saved me/ part 3
Summary: the reader is in a abusive relationship. When things take a turn for the worst she finds help in the winchesters.
Warning: there will be smut, violence, torture, abuse and language. If youre triggered by any of this do not read.
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I gasped and looked up at the smiling doctor. "What...what did you say?"
"Parker. He done this. Youre lucky you lived through it. He will be happy to know youre alive." He said with a sneer.
I started shaking and the heart monitor was beeping eratically. "Who are you?" I managed to find the words and he bent down close to my face.
He smiled and his eyes flashed black. "Im a demon." My breathing becoming shallow and my heart beat so fast that i thought it was going to burst out of my chest. "Demons arent real." I whispered and he just laughed and stood up straight.
"Oh we are real, what do you think parker is? Now be a good girl and dont say anything to anyone about this and i will give a good report back to parker. He might go easy on you." With that he turned and walked out. Dean hurried in right after him.
Dean noticed how panicked i was. "Whats wrong (Y/N)?" Dean said grabbing my hand. I seen doctor gram outside the door shake his head and put his finger to his lips to tell me to be quiet. I shook my head and tried to put on a facade to make it seem like i was okay.
"Nothing, i guess its just where the doctor told me about all my injuries. I realize how close i was to death." I exhaled slowly, "thank you for saving me dean, but you dont have to stay here. Im not your responsibility."
He looked at me with a puzzled look. "No im not leaving you. When they release you youre coming with us. Im not leaving you here for that asshole to find you." Dean said looking over his shoulder as sam walked in.
"Im going out for food. What do you guys want?" Sam said standing awkwardly in the room. His massive frame seemed to make the room seem small. Dean spoke first "pie and my regular." Sam nodded and then they both looked at me. I shook my head "nothing for me, thanks."
Dean shook his head, "you have to have something to eat. You either tell sam or i will." He said but i could tell he was just trying to take care of me.
I sighed, "i dont know. Id like to have some pizza." Sam nodded his head and left.
Dean smiled, "see now was that so hard?"
I chuckled and shook my head. Dean turned the tv on and was flipping through channels, nothing of interest was on so he settled on some comedy show. We sat in silence for a few minutes before i spoke up.
"Hey dean do you have a pen and piece of paper?"
He searched his pockets and came up empty. He walked over to the side table where there was a pad of paper and a sharpie. He handed it to me then went back to watching the tv. I began writing on the paper.
'I dont like it here. I wanna get out of here.'
I passed it to him and he took it and skimmed over it. He looked up at me with a worried look and opened his mouth as if to say something. I shook my head and put my finger to my lips. He understood and began scribbling. He passed the paper to me.
'Why? Whats going on?'
I fliped the paper over and began writing.
'The doctor knows parker. Hes going to tell him im alive. He will come for me.'
Dean read what i wrote and i saw his jaw clench before he quickly scribbled something.
'Let him try to come for you. Ill put a bullet between his eyes.'
'No dean, the doctor something is wrong with him.'
He looked at me puzzled and i took the paper back from him.
'He told me he was a demon. His eyes turned black. He said parker was a demon.'
Dean read what i wrote and nodded his head he folded the piece of paper that we wrote on and put it in his pocket. He took a clean piece and began writing.
'Me and sam will take care of that.' He held the paper up for me to see then folded that one and put it in his pocket as well. I furrowed my brow and looked at him. He winked and started watching tv again.
How could he be so calm with the information i just told him. Soon sam walked in with two paper bags and a large box of pizza. He placed the pizza in front of me and i had to admit it smelled amazing.
Dean rolled the table across the floor and placed mine and his food on it. Sam had a salad and he went and sat in the corner where he was earlier. They both dug in to their food. I took one piece of the pepperoni pizza from the box and took a bite. I moaned at how amazing it tasted. Sam and dean both chuckled but i could see a fire in deans eyes before he looked away. I ate four pieces and then pushed it away.
"I cant eat another bite." I said patting my stomach.
Dean smiled and rolled the table to the other side of the room. "The good thing about pizza is that it makes amazing leftovers. How long has it been since you ate?"
I looked down at my hands. "Three days. Prior to the incident."
Dean growled but didnt say another word. He walked over to sam and pulled out the piece of paper we had wrote on earlier. He looked up at dean they seemed to have a silent conversation with each other. Sam nodded and got up and walked out.
Dean came back and sat beside me, folding his hands behind his head and stretching his legs out in front of him. He looked over at me and winked again.
Sam came back in after about an hour being gone. He had a big duffle bag slung over his shoulder. Dean shut the door to my room as sam set the duffle bag in deans chair. Dean walked over and unzipped it, he pulled out two bottles of water some salt and then a big knife.
I gasped and moved back on the bed wanting to get as far away from the object as possible. Dean placed it in his jacket and held his hands up.
"No, no sweetheart. Its okay." Dean said quietly.
"The last time a knife was pulled out in front of me i ended up here." I said quickly.
Sam looked at dean with anger etching his features. "You didnt tell her?"
"Tell me what? Are you working with parker? Please dont hurt me." Tears welled up in my eyes.
"Sweetheart, were not going to hurt you. This is for the doctor. Then parker." Dean said sitting on the edge of my bed. "Were hunters. We hunt monsters, vampires, werewolves, demons and on and on. I know its hard to believe but the demon doctor is very real as you saw for yourself."
The doctor said he was a demon and his eyes did turn black. He wasnt human or was he? My head was so clouded and i was so confused about everything. Everything in me wanted to scream and run but running was out of the question because of my leg. So i had no choice but to trust the brothers.
I nodded and tried to relax. Deans shoulders slumped as i agreed with him. Sam sighed and spoke then. "(Y/N), i know its alot to take in but we can prove it to you. Just trust us, were not here to hurt you. Were here to help you. I promise."
For some reason i believed them. "Okay, so what are you going to do?" I asked quietly but tried to sound courageous.
Sam spoke instead of dean, "you are going to have to call the doctor in here. Say you need him to check your stitches or anything. Once hes in here we will take care of the rest."
Dean shook his head, "sam shes been through enough we can figure out another way."
"The only other way is to follow him to his house and we dont need to leave her alone here. In case..." sam didnt have to finish his last sentence, dean and i both knew what he was talking about.
"Dean, sam is right. I dont want you to leave me alone here. I feel safe with you around." I dont know why i said that but it was the truth. I did feel safe around dean and i didnt want to ever be without him. "So ill do whatever i have to." I finished.
Dean nodded, "okay, in about two hours the nurses will be making their rounds which means the doctor will probably come see you shortly after. The nurses wont be at the desk which gives us a better chance of not being heard."
"Okay so what do you have to do?" I asked.
"Were gonna hide in the bathroom right there and when he comes in, we make our move." Sam said.
I nodded and dean handed me a small vile of water. "This is holy water. If he gets to close before we get to him, throw this in his face." I nodded and held it in my hand. I smiled up at dean and he smiled back.
Right before shift change sam and dean walked in the bathroom and shut the door. I waited for fifteen minutes then a soft knock on my door sounded. "Come in." I yelled and sure enough it was doctor gram.
"How are we doing this evening?" If the conversation we had earlier hadnt have happened then i would have thought he was a normal doctor. I knew better though. I laid there gripping the vile of holy water dean had gave me under the covers.
"Fine." I said not looking at him.
"Well thats good. Wheres your two hunks that loiter around here?" He asked checking the monitors and iv tubes.
"They went to get food. The food here is shitty." Venom laced my voice which surprised me. I guess knowing dean and sam were just in the next room gave me more courage than before.
He laid his clipboard down on the bed and leaned down just a foot from my face. "Dont lie to me. I know those hunters are around here somewhere."
Just then dean and sam burst through the bathroom door. Before they could make a move the doctor shoved a syringe in my vein.
"Dean and sam winchester. What an honor. Ive heard alot about you." He smiled as dean went to take a step forward he noticed the syringe in my arm. "Careful boys, do you know what air bubbles in the blood can do to a person?"
Dean and sam backed up, the doctor nodded. "Good choice, now parker will be here in a few hours so i suggest you both be gone by the time he gets here."
At the mention of parker and that he was coming for me made me jump into action. I remembered the vile of holy water dean gave me and popped the cap off of it.
"No!" I screamed and used my free hand and arm to throw it in his face. He let go of the syringe as a burning sound and steam came from his face. I jerked the syringe from my arm and the other tubes.
Sam and dean moved into action then. They poured holy water on him as he yelled and more steam and burning sounds came from him. I rolled off the bed and landed with a big thud and a groan slipped from my lips.
I crawled over to the duffle bag searching through it to find something to help them. I heard sam speaking in latin and the doctor growling. The doctor threw sam across the room against the window and kicked dean backwards towards the bathroom door.
"You bitch, you just wait! Parker is gonna hear about this and what he did last time is nothing to what youre gonna get." Doctor gram said as he grabbed the ankle of my hurt leg. I yelled out in pain.
"Dean!" I screamed as he appeared behind the doctor. He stabbed him with the blade and it looked like fire flickering inside the doctor.
"Keep your fucking hands off her, you demonic son of a bitch." Dean said as doctor gram fell to the floor.
I gasped and looked at grams lifeless body on the floor. His dead eyes staring at me. "Oh my god....oh my god...." was all i could say. I couldnt take my eyes from him. I dry heaved and i didnt notice dean by my side.
"Hey, you okay?" It was like his voice was muffled. I looked at him as he spoke something to sam i couldnt quite make out. Sam pulled a pair of sweat pants and a flannel shirt out of a second bag i didnt know was there.
Dean shook my shoulder and i snapped out of my daze. "Are you okay?" He asked again. I nodded "my leg hurts."
He nodded and picked me up as gently as he could and sat me on the bed. Sam walked out of the bathroom in a pair of nurse scrubs and a fake id badge. I didnt even notice him walk into the bathroom. He walked out of the room and soon came back in with a gurny and a sheet. Dean and sam lifted gram up and onto the gurny, they stripped him of his clothes until he was just in his boxers. Sam covered him with the sheet and walked out calmly.
"Whats he doing? Hes not a nurse." I asked confused.
Dean shut the door, "hes taking him to the morgue. Cant have someone find the dead doctor in your assigned room. Dont wanna look like you did it." I nodded and knew what he meant. If they found him here id be number one on the local cops hit list.
"Now im gonna help you put these clothes on and we are gonna get you out of here." He said slowly. I looked down not wanting him to see me naked.
"Dont worry i wont look...much." he said the last part under his breath thinking i couldnt hear him but i did. Thinking of dean seeing me naked didnt make me feel uncomfortable, i actually liked the thought. I stripped the gown off and heard dean gasp as he looked at all the wounds and bruises that covered me.
He slid the sweat pants up my legs and lifted me enough to help me pull them up over my butt. They were to big but they would do. He helped slide my arms in the flannel shirt and he began to button it up. It smelled like him. These must be his clothes. I smiled as i enhaled the masculine scent.
Sam walked in shortly after with a wheelchair. Dean walked into the bathroom and came back out with the doctors white coat and a pair of scrubs. I have to say he looked amazing.
He walked over to me and lifted me gently but it still hurt my leg. I winced and he flinched hearing that. "Im so sorry sweetheart." I smiled and kissed his cheek. He smiled at that and placed me in the wheelchair.
"Sam you clean up here and ill take her to the car." Dean said as he wheeled me out of the room. I dont think i actually breathed until we was outside. Dean walked around the corner where there were no cameras and noone around. Out of the small bag he handed me before we left the room he pulled his jeans and tshirt out. He ditched the doctors coat and scrubs in the blink of an eye.
I didnt realize i was staring until he spoke. "Like what you see?" My cheeks heated and i turned my head away from him. I held out his jeans and shirt he took them with a chuckle. After he was dressed he shoved the doctors clothes in the bag as we headed to the car.
By the time he got me in the front seat sam was there climbing in the backseat. Dean climbed in after he put the wheelchair back in front of the hospital. The engine roared to life and i shut my eyes at the sound. "Oh ive always loved these classics. Theres nothing like the sound of a engine running to set fire to my blood." I smiled.
Dean was looking at me in awe and something else in his eyes. Sam cleared his throat in the backseat and dean pulled out onto the main road. "Where are we going?" I asked a few miles down the road.
"Were taking you home." Dean said and my eyes got wide. I dont wanna go home, ill die before i go back. "No, sweetheart. Our home which is your new home. Its going to be about a eight hour drive so if you need to stop at anytime let me know."
I sighed a relieved sigh, even though i didnt know the winchesters i still felt safe around them. Theyve showed me nothing but kindness. Plus im starting to develop a certain liking to dean. So i wanted to be around him and was glad he didnt want to get rid of me. Not yet at least.
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buttsonthebeach · 5 years
Text
Overwhelmed
EVERYONE! I had the distinct pleasure of writing a full scene commission for @lauren-draws-things/@lauren-draws-xxx based off of one of her very NSFW and very amazing drawings! (The link might not work - Tumblr is giving me a hard time, of course)
Thank you for letting me write Lenneth, and I am so pleased that you think I did her justice <3
My Ko-Fi || My Commissions (Slots for February coming SOON!)
Pairing: Solas x Lenneth Lavellan
Rating: EXPLICIT. Content warnings for double penetration, dom/sub dynamics, and inappropriate uses of magic.
**********
Solas was always entirely too controlled, in Lenneth’s humble opinion. He didn’t misplace a single spell or word. He considered each bite of his food, each sip of his drink. He was mild-mannered to the rudest of nobles, quiet in noisy arguments. Of course, she did have to admit that that made it extra fun to rile him up. To be the only one who saw another side of him. To creep up behind him as he stood in front of his desk in the rotunda, wrap her arms around his waist, nuzzle into the space between his shoulder blades, feel him relax into her touch – and then to stand on tiptoe and place a wet, smacking, sucking kiss on the soft skin where his neck met his shoulder. “Lenneth!” He was trying to be scolding, but there wasn’t much use in trying to be scolding when one had just yelped like a dog. “You’ve been at this for far too long. Those oculara skulls won’t get any deader, you know. They will still be here in the morning. Come to bed, vhenan.” She wrapped her arms around him again and cuddled into the crook of his neck. He smelled like ink and lyrium and his own skin and it was perfect, and she wanted to drown herself in that scent. There was already a prickle of heat between her legs, and she would stoke it to a flame before the night was done.
“I am close to done.” He said, gently extricating himself from her grasp, giving her a perfunctory kiss on the cheek. Lenneth looked him over from head to toe. “Really? You don’t even look like you’ve started.” She let her gaze linger on the part of his sweater that preserved his modesty in order to make her meaning clear. He rolled his eyes. “You are more clever than that.” “When I want to be, perhaps. Right now I just want to be underneath you. Or on top of you. Whichever you prefer, really.” She rocked up onto her toes and then back onto her heels, full of her own excitement, her affection for the stoic man before her. She would peel back every layer soon enough. “No,” Solas said breezily, walking around to the other side of his desk. With a lazy wave of his hand, he reignited a candle that had fizzled while they talked.
That gave Lenneth a thought. One that had more to do with said prickle of heat between her own legs, and less to do with actual candles.
“You know,” she said. “You could always try using your magic on me instead.”
The aura of her own magic heightened around her at the thought, as though prickling with a hundred needles. It was one of those things she’d always wondered about when she was younger, and coming into her power. Things were always complicated with other mages in her clan and outside of it. She hadn’t had a chance to try with anyone else.
And Solas - the creativity in his spells, the way he confounded Vivienne and Dorian and Bull with them, the way he always seemed to be holding back some of his power - he was the perfect person to try with.
It helped that he was also handsome, and charming, that he loved her, and that she loved him, of course.
It also helped that goading him into giving it a try would be the most fun Lenneth had had in a long time, and the gods knew she needed the fun after the tension and horror of Halamshiral and Adamant.
She sent one long lick of her mana towards Solas and used it to trace the curve of his ear. She could feel the lightness that always filled her body when she stood halfway between both worlds - Fade and reality - and that only amplified that hunger growing within her. It did good things for Solas, too, from the vibration she felt in his aura at the touch of hers. The way he stood up straighter and breathed in through his nose was a good indication, too. A grin broke across her face.
“I have no idea what you are implying,” Solas said mildly.
“Come on,” she pleaded, following him, draping herself around him, nuzzling against his back and running her hands down his sides, perilously close to the fronts of his thighs. “I know how much you love to show off.”
“Lenneth, I promised this report to your council by the time you have your morning meeting.”
Solas’s tone was exasperated but he did not draw away from her. She knew how much he craved touch, how under that confident, austere veneer he was desperate for it, so desperate he could not even admit it fully, and had to show it in the way he would inevitably take control from her so he could have exactly what he wanted, needed, and from the way he seemed to hate every inch of space between them once they were alone, and bare.
Lenneth liked the role she played in that dance. She liked teasing, teasing, prodding, until she reached the soft, vulnerable center of him, and he had to react. She knew he liked it too. He didn’t know how to let it out otherwise.
“Well, that’s the marvelous thing about being in charge,” she said. “I hereby push your deadline to the afternoon meeting instead.” She traced a line down the front of his left leg with just one finger. He shivered but did not react otherwise.
Solas shook his head. “You know full well that the Seeker asked for the report. She wants to know how it intersects with what she learned from Lord Seeker Lucius. And she will not be present at the afternoon meeting.”
But he was starting to lean back into her now. Lenneth let her wandering finger wander inward, away from the warm muscle of his thigh towards the warmer, softer part of him that she most wanted to touch.
“I’m sure it wouldn’t be hard for you to amuse me for a little while, and then finish your report later,” she said as she cupped him and felt the beautiful weight of his sex in her hand.
Solas sucked in a breath.
“Lenneth,” he said. “We are in public.”
“And?” she said, cupping him closer, tighter, feeling him start to swell. “Am I not allowed to embrace my lover in public?”
“I believe that you are currently doing much more than embrace me,” he said, voice pitched low. It vibrated in his chest and she wondered if he could make his magic vibrate like that.
“Oh, my mistake then,” she said, withdrawing the touch, stepping back around to the other side of the desk, adding a twirl because she was alive and happy and she knew the dance between them had begun, and she was taking a night off from thinking about anything else. She retreated to the couch, feeling Solas’s eyes on her the whole while, knowing he was eyeing the sway of her ass as she walked.
“I have never known you to be so easily convinced,” Solas said.
“Disappointed?”
“In you? Never.”
It was such an unexpectedly sweet response. His smile was so genuine. Lenneth curled her toes with delight and then slouched down on the couch so she was reclined, and let her legs fall open, and Solas’s gaze was so heavy on the place between them that she could feel it, as real as if it was his hand.
“I must finish this,” he said.
“Would you really have me believe that you can’t finish me at the same time?”
She could see the delicate flaring of his nostrils, the flicker of his gaze from her casually spread legs to the report on his desk. He was weighing his obligations and the challenge she’d just thrown down for him. His parents, whoever they had been, had done well to name their son Pride.
Solas sat down at the desk and picked up his quill, as calm and poised as if their conversation had never happened. Lenneth deflated, dropping her head back against the sofa, and sighing theatrically. But Solas’s timing, as ever, was unerring. At the exact moment that she began to think she really had fallen in love with the most stubborn, unyielding man alive, she felt a row of wet kisses trickling down her neck. They were plush, warm, exquisitely placed. She would have sworn she felt Solas’s breath brushing across her skin with each one, that his weight was braced above her on the couch. But even as she let out a pleased hum and arched up, seeking more, she saw that he was still at the desk.
His left hand was busy with his quill, and his right hand was somewhere beneath the desk, on his knee, perhaps, and that was the trick. That was how he was doing this. He had so much power, so much control, that he could make her feel his presence with just a few subtle, out-of-sight gestures of his fingers.
Lenneth knew exactly what else he could do with a few subtle gestures of his fingers.
The ethereal kisses went lower, between her breasts, towards her navel. She whimpered, then slapped a hand over her mouth. It was late enough that the tower was mostly empty, but there was forever a spy in the rookery above, or one last scholar in the library scribbling notes, and she did have to be some sort of figure of authority at the end of the day.
“I cannot believe I ever found your focus indomitable,” Solas said, a chuckle warming the words.
He ended whatever sentence he was writing with a decisive stab of his quill onto the parchment. She could see the muscles in his right arm tense and before she could respond she felt a wash of sensation all over her body, a rain of a hundred kisses all over her skin, as if her clothes didn’t exist, as if nothing existed except his affection for her. He was kissing her breasts, her shoulders, her earlobes, her thighs, her ankles, the length of her spine. He was kissing her everywhere except her throbbing sex. She felt unbearably hot there, unbearably slick, unbearably swollen, already half undone, and she was still fully clothed, and he had not actually touched her once.
But Lenneth had some pride, too. She bit back the final mewling cry that threatened to spill from her when the rain of kisses faded, the last six or so being placed strategically around her lower belly and the tops of her legs, accompanied with a gentle nuzzling sensation. She propped herself up on her elbows and met Solas’s gaze.
“You know, I really thought your tricks would be more impressive. Is that all you can do?”
“Oh?” Solas said, returning to his writing, looking away from her. “I did not think I had to impress you. I thought I had already won you, my heart.”
And there, again, that disarming sweetness that made her want to melt into the floor, that made her breath catch in her throat. She felt a final ghostly kiss, this one on her forehead. She loved this side of him. But it wasn’t quite what she was after tonight. They could have all of that later. For now, she wanted him to transport her, to shed every pretense, to make her forget they were anything but animals.
“Didn’t you say something to me about Halamshiral? How no victory is permanent?” she replied, sitting up now - but keeping her legs spread wide, her feet planted firmly on the stone floor, and invitation and a challenge alike.
“Ah, so you do listen to my - what did you call them? My ramblings?” Solas continued writing, and now there were gentle fingers whispering up and down the outside of her legs, hands kneading the tension from her shoulders and running through her hair. Lenneth moaned in spite of herself, widened her legs further.
“Occasionally. And if I didn’t?” She did not bother to hide the breathlessness in her voice, even if she did not yet beg for him to stop teasing and fuck her already.
“That would be your choice. But I do so enjoy talking to you. You have the loveliest voice, you know.”
And that was when his magic placed a sloppy, open-mouthed, hungry kiss right on her cunt.
Lenneth arched, keened, scrabbled for purchase on the sofa, tried to press forward into a touch that wasn’t there. Other sensations joined that of his mouth - she felt hands spreading her legs, pushing them onto the sofa, felt the bulk of his shoulders, and even if she stared at the empty air in front of her, even if she stared at Solas, whose eyes were lowered demurely to the report, she could not convince herself that the feelings were anything less than utterly real.
“Oh, please, oh, more, yes, more -” she cut off her own babbling, felt her face go flame red, rode against the shape of his jaw and the press of his tongue. Her clit twitched, grew, ached for more.
“More of what?” Solas said. “I thought my talents were not impressive.”
That was, of course (of course) when two fingers slid inside of her, when he sealed his lips around her aching clit and sucked, when she had to bite down on her wrist, and even then her desperate whimpers still echoed off of the stone walls, and even then the ravens in the rookery rustled and clucked.
He kept working her. Lenneth’s smallclothes clung to her body, each stroke of his fingers and his tongue bringing a fresh wave of slick welling up from within her, and she was pulsing with her own need, writhing against the couch, shuddering every time he fluttered his tongue around her clit and calmly continued writing. The space between them was an ocean now, a gap so vast it took her breath away.
“Please, please - I want you and this, you and this, you and this.” She babbled her own refrain, not even really sure of her own meaning, just knowing that she needed all of him, every last scrap of Solas she could have, that she needed to be totally and utterly overwhelmed.
She opened her eyes. Solas had stopped writing. He was staring at her, hard, the muscles in his jaw working, like he really was there between her legs, eating her like she was his last meal. They locked eyes. He guided her closer, closer, closer to that precipice, she felt all the pleasure gather in one place, felt it about to explode outwards, felt a scream building in her throat - and then all the sensations stopped. She hovered, locked, at that precipice, panting, her throat raw.
“Upstairs,” Solas said, that one word a command. Then, smiling slyly: “If you can stand.”
Between the two of them and their ability to warp the Veil around themselves for speed and silence and cover, they made it up to her bedroom relatively unnoticed. Lenneth started shucking off her clothes on the stairs. She wasn’t sure who reached for who first - if it was Solas who clutched at her, or she who clutched at him, but before they ever reached the bed they were wrapped up in each other, clawing, biting, kissing. There was no magic now, other than the magic of their own connection, of how they bent and swayed together.
“More,” Lenneth said, reaching between them, cupping and grasping him, already ramrod straight and painfully hard in her hand. Solas made a muffled, gutted sound against her throat, where he was leaving sucking kisses behind. His hips rocked forward and so did hers.
“Bed,” Solas said.
And like that, Lenneth knew she had him. He had gone from his usual eloquence to single words, to ripping the hem of his tunic as he drew it over his head, to dropping his jawbone necklace with a clatter against the stone floor instead of setting it gently aside - he had gone from carefully controlled forays with his magic to a crackling power that seethed around him as he followed her onto the bed, crawling over her, his eyes all hunger and his hands all need.
“More,” she begged again. “More, vhenan, please, more -”
She was still soaked from their earlier play, and that had to be the only reason it didn't hurt when Solas drove himself into her, filling her up. She looked down the length of their bodies to watch his cock pumping in and out of her, the steady, driving rhythm of his need, the way her body parted for his, the shine of her slick on his rosy, rigid flesh.
“More,” she whined again. “I can't ever have enough of you, give me more.”
“Patience.” Single words again, this one little more than a growl.
“No.” Lenneth nipped at his chin, his throat, the corner of his mouth, squeezed herself around him.
And like that, she was on her stomach, and he was hauling her hips back, keeping her legs spread, pressing down between her shoulder blades, spreading her with two fingers. She ached with her own emptiness, leaned towards him, utterly wanton now.
“I am going to fill you with my magic,” Solas said. She could not see his face but she could hear his harsh breathing. “Will that satisfy you at last?” He stroked the length of her spine. It was a soothing, gently touch that made her skin prickle.
“No,” Lenneth said. “I want you, too. I want you everywhere.”
Solas's hand paused in its journey on her back. Lenneth turned her head so she could see him. His blue eyes gone black with desire, the flush on his high, sharp cheekbones, the angle of his jaw, his parted lips.
“I do,” she said, raw in her own need, her own vulnerability. She was spread before him, needing him, opened up to the most primal parts of her self. Nothing else mattered but this. She had wanted that tonight. After everything she had given for others. She just wanted this and all it meant.
Solas slid two fingers into her, curled them down, and her belly hollowed out with pleasure. He pressed on that rough spot within in her over and over again.
“I want all of you, too,” he said. “Will you give me that?”
“Of course,” she said. A wave of pleasures rippled through her, made her wetter, made Solas groan, finger her harder. “Please, gods, Solas - fuck me.”
Solas pulled her up by her waist - their bodies were flush together - he turned, they stumbled a bit, they ended up against the headboard of the bed, Lenneth spread wide between his legs. Another moment of fumbling, hands and legs - a lifting - and he was inside her again, but still this time. It was his mana that was stirring, rising, thickening from the ethereality of the Fade into something she could truly feel. Something pressing against her opening, close against Solas's length, rubbing shyly, teasingly, not quite breaching her.
A shiver ran through Lenneth's whole body.
“Oh, please, please, please -”
“You beg so prettily,” Solas said. She could feel his grin against her cheek.
The magic pressed inward by the smallest margin, stretching and burning her. She was full of Solas's body and she would have his magic now too, the essence of him, every ounce of him. She thought of him coming like this, filling her up the way she liked best, how he would groan and shudder behind her. Her cunt clenched. The magic slid in further. It was heavy, thick, blunt, pulsing with energy. Solas muffled a sound into her shoulder. Lenneth squeezed around him again, whined high and loud at the fullness, the vibration coming off the magic, the flex of Solas's own flesh within her.
“Wicked thing,” Solas murmured, rocking his hips, easing the magic in further.
“More, more, more,” Lenneth begged, and probably more besides that. She was not really in the business of paying much attention to what she was saying at the moment. All of her focus was reserved for swiveling and grinding her hips against that all consuming pressure within her.
“Needy thing,” he murmured.
And then he thrust hard, up into her, and she was so full she could not breathe or speak at all.
She burned, she ached, she felt herself on the verge of coming, her core so hot and so wet and so built up that surely all that pleasure would spill over soon. Solas seemed to sense that. He withdrew.
“No - no no no, please, vhenan, I need you, I need you to fuck me, right now, please, fuck me -”
She was being loud (as usual) and she did not care (as usual). Solas chuckled. The sound reverberated between their sweat-slick bodies. Lenneth looked down between them, caught a glimpse of the swollen red head of him, leaking clear fluid, the way his cock twitched and bobbed and the way he held back his own need.
“Noisy thing, too,” he said. “Perhaps I shall find a way to silence you. Would you like that, my heart? To be so full of me you cannot even speak?”
“Yes, please, yes -”
“Then have -” he paused, inched himself in, nestled his head into her folds. “Patience.”
Then Lenneth watched as the magic swelled beside him, a pale, shimmering phallus that found its own way into her body. They slid in together. She tried to watch but her eyes rolled back and it was good, so good, so overwhelming in the best way, there was nothing but sensation, pressure, friction, closeness. Her own magic hummed with the touch of his, the core of her connection to the Fade swelling at the same time as her clit, the walls of her cunt. She started up her sounds again, her noisy cries and moans and pleas. Solas worked her, held onto her hips to give himself stability, bounced her up and down and both the cocks filling her up. It was too much and not enough, when she came she would only get tighter and tighter, and she was going to come, her skin was all sparks and she was shouting now, feeling the wave building, her head tipped back -
And that, of course, was when her mouth was filled as well.
If she had not watched Solas’s own cock disappear inside her body, if she could not feel the slow, powerful pumping of his hips beneath hers, she would have sworn that that was what happened - that he had pushed himself into her mouth and was fucking her there, too. The cock that filled her mouth was smooth, thick, heavy, warm, as urgent in its movement as the two inside her sex were.
Lenneth only shouted all the louder. She was sweating. Solas was too. Beneath the sound of her own pleasure (trapped in her throat as it was) she could still hear him grunting his own joy. It was perfect. Perfect, perfect, perfect - the rough jostling of their bodies, the ecstasy of feeling him everywhere, of not being able to think of anything but how fucking good it all felt, how wet she was, how tight - tighter, tighter, tighter, she’d come so close the first two times, this time would she tip over the edge, would all that pleasure spill out in wave after wave, would that make Solas come too -
Solas nuzzled against her ear. He pinched her nipple. How did he still have a hand free? He went slower, harder with each thrust, and the sheer power, the power in him - he had such control over his magic and over himself -
“Do you think you will ever doubt me again?” he crooned.
The cock in her mouth slid further, teased the back of her throat. She tasted salt. She wanted it to spill all over her mouth. She wanted him to spill all over her belly. Her clit twitched, twitched, twitched. She wanted to come. She was babbling all of that but he couldn’t hear it, of course. Although - maybe he did, because he bit down on her shoulder and resumed one last driving rhythm, filled her, filled her, filled her, sent a spark of magic down to the place between her thighs and then -
And then her whole world was light, and sound, and pleasure.
She was coming, coming, coming, jerks and spasms, long keening cries, her whole body shaking, and she felt the ethereal shaft in her mouth jerk and spasm too, felt Solas’s whole body go tense - felt the magic dissipate, suddenly, half of the fullness leaving her body just as the last pulses wracked her - and then he pulled himself free from her body just in time to splash her with his spend, groaning and shaking all the while behind her, and he had been full, too - he went on and on, rope after rope, until he too was weak with the force of his pleasure.
Lenneth lay back against him, trembling. Solas barely held her up. He was panting. Lenneth was sore, and exhausted - and alive, so alive, and in love, so in love. She did not ever want to move or think again.
“Are you well?” Solas asked some time later. Lenneth wondered if she had dozed off and worried him. But, then again, he was like that - solicitous, caring, aware of her needs, perhaps even to the detriment of his own.
“I am perfect,” she said. He hummed and kissed her shoulder in response.
“Shall I clean you off?”
“After you worked so hard to make a mess of me?”
He laughed. She burrowed against him, determined not to let him move her off of him. She could not see his face this way, but she could feel every part of him - could feel him softening against her thigh, could feel the rhythm of his heart - and that mattered far more.
“Oh, Lenneth,” he said, absently. Maybe he was falling asleep, too.
“Are you well?” she asked, no mockery in her repetition of his question.
Solas was quiet a moment before answering. She wondered if it disconcerted him when she pushed him to lose control, or even if it just drained him. She waited for his answer, attentive.
“I am more than well,” he said. “As always, vhenan, you - transport me.”
She wondered what he meant by that. It was an odd choice of words. A careful one.
“I hope I transport you somewhere good,” she said. “Especially when we play like this.”
This time she had to turn around to see his face, to be sure. She flopped over inelegantly, so that she was still lying on top of him, but face to face this time. He was more flushed than she expected, but his face had a dreamy relaxation.
Solas cupped her face in both his hands, like she was something precious.
“Always,” he said, kissing each of her cheeks. “Except, perhaps, when you refuse to clean up, and then roll over on top of me, and make a mess of me too.”
Lenneth laughed, and that made her more sore, but once again it was the best kind of soreness - the kind that came from connection, from happiness. From feelings that overwhelmed.
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Write It Down
strawberryfields-forever said: Ok so I absolutely LOVE your writing!! I was wondering if you could another roger Taylor Imagine where the reader gets really drunk and ends up at Rogers Place and he takes care of them and then she ends up confessing her feelings and you can take it from there? Please and thank you! Xxx
(a/n: i’m SO SORRY THIS IS SO LONG I CAN NEVER HELP MYSELF FUCK also this layout might be fucked when i first post it but i’ll try to fix it ASAP)
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“Roger, it’s barely midnight, you’ve got to be fucking with me!” you complained, nearly tripping over yourself as he pulled you out of the pub and away from the guy who you’d just been chatting with. “Just one more pint!”
Roger ignored your incessant complaining as he got out onto the sidewalk, the pub door swinging shut behind you, and he began to look for a cab. Cursing at the lack of cars around, he quickly realized there was no way you were making it all the way back to your flat, not tonight. “My place, then,” he mumbled, letting go of your wrist to wrap his arm around your waist, starting to lead you towards his flat that was just over 7 blocks away.
“My flat is the other way!” you protested, almost being dead weight against his side as he used all of his strength to guide you down the street. “Where are we going, you silly goose?” you laughed, leaning even more on him and making him chuckle at how sloshed you were.
Despite your embarrassing situation, you were quite enjoying Roger’s arm around you. Of course, you were using all of your willpower left to keep your mouth shut, because even in your inebriated state, you knew this was not the time to clue Roger in on your little crush.
“Goose? Is that what you think of me?” he teased, helping you across the street and flipping off a car that honked at you both. “We’re going to my place, you can sleep there.”
“OoooOooOh,” you drew out, wiggling your eyebrows. “I get to go to the goose’s nest tonight!”
“My God,” he laughed, trying not to drop you as he continued to lead the way down the sidewalk, your arm wrapping loosely around his shoulder.
As he walked the 7 long blocks with you, you blabbered on and on about the guy at the bar. He had to hear about how he was an old friend from primary, and how he’d bought you drinks and asked if you’d been to a late night chips place down the road. You said you told him you hadn’t, so he offered to take you but you didn’t want to leave, and that’s about the time the “big boss Roger” showed up to end the fun.
As you walked up to the tower block Roger was living in with Brian and Freddie, you sighed dramatically and leaned your head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry I tried to make you stay longer,” you mumbled, slurring your words quite a bit, but Roger already knew how to decipher your drunken ramblings. You loved that about him. In fact, there were quite a few more things you loved about him that you hadn’t told him before. It was a pity you’d become such close friends, because you reckoned that was the only thing preventing you from telling Roger how you felt about him.
He chuckled and shook his head as you both approached the stairs, Roger wondering to himself how he’d get you up to the 4th floor. “Hey, let’s crawl up the stairs, that’d be fun, right?” he suggested, hoping you’d take to the idea. You groaned before starting to crawl up them, knowing the alternative was being carried and that would kill Roger before you got to the 2nd floor.
Roger followed, snickering a bit at the state of you, but encouraged you all the way to his floor, where you decided to lay down. “Rog, I’m beat,” you complained, pressing a hand against your head and closing your eyes. “I think I’m going to sleep here.”
“No, no, Y/N, don’t be a drama queen, that’s Fred’s job,” he ordered, grabbing ahold of your hand and pulling you up to what could be considered a standing position. Throwing your arm over his shoulder, he managed to drag you down to his flat as you apologized for trying to sleep. He then unlocked the door kicked it open gently, calling out for his roommates.
You decided to join in. “Freddieeeee,” you sang, your eyes still halfway closed and heavily lidded as you laughed at how terrible you sounded. “Briaaaann, come out, come out, wherever you are!”
Roger carefully sat you down on the sofa, patting your head gently before heading off to their rooms to find them empty. They must have decided to stay longer at the pub than they had originally planned, which made Roger groan softly. He was alone in getting your drunk ass to bed.
“Looks like it’s just you and me,” he said as he came back into the front room, where you’d managed to pull off your shoes and sprawl out on the couch. Your heart fluttered as you realized you were truly alone with Roger, and anything could happen. Jesus, I must be really drunk if I’m thinking we’re going to do anything but go to sleep tonight, you thought. “Let’s get a glass of water in you, eh?”
You nodded once, smiling lopsidedly up at him before closing your eyes and humming to yourself. As Roger grabbed a glass of water and some Tylenol for you, he heard you start to quietly sing off-key, then suddenly, you stopped. After a pause, you called out to him. “Rog, come sing your harmony, you bastard!”
You then began to sing Doing All Right unbearably loud, Roger trying to shush you and try not to laugh as he reminded you of the upstairs neighbor who hated how loud they were. As if on cue, the upstairs neighbor stomped on the floor, which made you shut up and look at Roger with an impish grin. He looked adorable tonight, and you hated yourself for noting that. He was supposed to be your best friend and confidant, and now here you were wondering why you hadn’t made out with him already.
As you admired him, he couldn’t help but grin back at you. Shaking his head, he helped you sit up, handing you the water and Tylenol before sitting next to you and pulling his shoes off. You gratefully took the pills and water, then sat the glass on the nightstand next to you before laying down again, sprawling over Roger’s lap and making him raise an eyebrow at you. “I’m sorry for being loud,” you practically whispered, running a hand over your face before giving him a guilty look. “I promise I’ll be good now.”
“You’re awfully apologetic tonight,” he remarked, relaxing back against the couch and spreading one arm out along the back while the other hand rested on your stomach lightly. “How come you never want to apologize to me when you’re not a shitfaced mess?!”
“Oh, fuck off and die,” you automatically replied, reaching out to smack his chest playfully. As soon as you did it, your jaw dropped and you began apologizing profusely, becoming a babbling mess again.
He began to shush you again, laughing in between shushes and finally resorting to putting a hand over your mouth. Quieting again, Roger gave it a moment before moving his hand to play with a strand of your hair instead. “I think it’s time you went to bed, sweetheart.”
“No, I’m finnne!” you swore, though your drooping eyelids told him otherwise. He gave you a look, which made you whine and roll off his lap, crawling to the floor and starting to make your way towards his bedroom. “You’re such a bully,” you whined as you slowly crawled your way down the hallway, Roger following close behind and rolling his eyes.
“Do you want to sleep on the floor tonight?” he warned, which made you crawl faster and scramble into his bed when you got to his room. “That’s what I thought.”
“I’m sorry, Rog, I didn’t mean it,” you whined, crawling under his covers and peeking out at him as he started to get ready for bed. “Thank you for taking care of me tonight,” you added, wanting to get back on his good side. “I really ‘preciate it, honestly. You’re the best.”
“That’s my job,” he reassured, pulling off his shirt and tossing it in his dirty laundry as you watched him. You admired his remarkably slender build that contradicted somewhat with his status as a drummer. He didn’t have any remarkably prominent muscles on him, but he was still toned, and though his hair was longer, he didn’t seem too feminine to you in the dim light that was coming through his blinds from the city lights outside. Though, would it matter if he did look feminine? You found yourself thinking that Roger was attractive to you in any state, drunk or sober, angry or happy, mean or nice, any way, any day.
“You’re my faaavorite, Roggie,” you said affectionately, overwhelmed with admiration for him all of a sudden.
Roger laughed at that, glancing back at you before going over to his closet. “I’d bloody hope so.”
“You don’t have to take care of me, like this, you know?” you mumbled, still watching him as he searched for some pajama pants in his piles of clothes. “I know I can be a bit much, and you’re soooo fucking wonderful for putting up with me,” you continued on, Roger smirking at that. He found a pair of pajama pants, which he started switching into, so you looked at the ceiling out of courtesy and started to close your eyes. “I mean it, Rog. You’re the best, you treat me wayyyyy too well. There’s nothing keeping you here-”
“Well, it’s my flat,” he interjected, making you open your eyes again and shoot him a dirty look. “I’m sorry, go on about how I’m the best,” he laughed, starting to crawl into bed with you and making you scoot over as he laid on his side next to you, watching you expectantly with his head propped up on one hand. You were suddenly nervous, Roger no closer than he’d ever been to you before. You’d slept in the same bed before, but you’d never felt so much love for him all at once while in such close proximity. Unable to filter yourself, you continued.
“I meant, like, I’m just me and that’s alright, I guess, but there’s no reason for you to stick around and take all my bullshit like you do. Like, you’re not my boyfriend or anything,” you rambled, both you and Roger not sure where you were going with this. The alcohol still coursing through your body propelled you, however, and you kept talking. “But I’on’t know, I always thought you’d end up my boyfriend, as much as you put up with me, but I’ve pretty much just given up that idea. You keep sticking around anyways, honestly kind of scamming yourself, you are,” you admitted, avoiding eye contact with Roger and instead looking at his collarbones as you played with the duvet nervously. You knew you’d started to say too much, but your stupid feelings wouldn’t stop coming out because you were so nervous and Roger being right there made you even more nervous.
“You thought we’d end up dating?” Roger asked, no hint of emotion in his voice to suggest he leaned either way on the issue. He was asking more for a clarification, which made you even more shaky as you tried to compose a response that wasn’t horridly revealing. However, that worked out about as well as it could, considering the amount of alcohol you’d consumed before leaving the bar.
“I guess, yeah,” you mumbled, still afraid to look up at him. “Fred’s always teasing me about when you’re going to ask me out, so I guess after a certain point… I didn’t mind the idea of it anymore?” The last part of the sentence came out as more of a question, and you squeezed your eyes shut, mentally smacking yourself for sounding so terrified. Fuck it. I’m already this far gone, why not just let it all out? “No,no, no, not I guess. I know I don’t mind the idea anymore. Actually, I’m a bit bummed you still haven’t asked me out. What’s with that?”
“Very subtle, Y/N,” Roger teased, reaching up to replace a stray hair that had fallen into your face. “Fred’s been bothering you about me, has he? I’ll have to tell him off tomorrow.”
“Oh, please don’t!” you begged, quickly looking up at him with a desperate look in your eyes. “He’ll know that I told you that I fancy you and then I’ll never hear the end of it!”
“Well, now there’s news,” Roger commented, a blush creeping on to your cheeks as you realized how stupidly you’d just told him how you felt about him. Shit, you’ve done it now, Y/N. “You never said you fancy me, love, not until just now. What’s with that?”
“Oh, forget it,” you groaned hopelessly, rolling over to face away from him and pulling the covers over your head. The room felt like it was spinning as you laid there in the dark, and you took a few deep breaths to calm down. “Forget I even said that, I’m sloshed and don’t know what I’m doing.”
Roger began to laugh, tugging the covers back down and booing you. “Oh, boo you, I was just taking the piss. Look at me, I’m sorry! I won’t do it again.” You reluctantly rolled back over, giving him the stink eye as you kept the covers pulled up to your shoulders, trying to hide as much vulnerability as possible. “Now, back to the asking you out thing, when did Fred start to bother you about this?”
You wracked your brain, struggling to pull memories through the muddle of alcohol and embarrassment, but you finally recalled at least an approximate date and managed to choke it out. “A couple months ago, maybe?”
“Damn! He was supposed to keep his mouth shut,” Roger cursed, mainly to himself. “Also, you’ve been taking this from him for two whole months?”
“Yeah,” you admitted reluctantly, sounding ashamed. Then, your brain latched on to what he said before, and starting racing as you tried to figure out what he’d meant. “Freddie was supposed to keep his mouth shut about what?” you pried, suddenly propping your head up on one hand too.
Roger chuckled, then shook his head and laid down on his back, his eyes lazily tracing around the ceiling as he answered nonchalantly. “Well, if you must know, I told him I’d been thinking about asking you out a couple months ago, when we were recording one night. But I’d honestly been having so much fun and going out with you anyways these last few months, I didn’t even think about it anymore. I thought he’d zipped it, but that worked about as well as I should have expected… Lead singers, they have such big mouths.”
Your face broke out into a wide grin as you processed what he was saying. “God, I better be sober enough now to remember this in the morning,” you murmured, rubbing your eyes to stop the room from spinning and hardly believing what had just went down.
“I’ll convince you it was a dream,” Roger taunted, looking over at you only to receive more stink eye from you.
“I’m going to write it down right now so I don’t forget,” you stated, climbing over him and out of the bed in a determined fashion, Roger trying to grab you to keep you from leaving but failing. You clumsily made your way over to his desk and grabbed a pencil and his journal that he wrote songs in, flipping through the pages to find an empty one while Roger untangled himself from the duvet that you’d gotten him wrapped up in.
“Hey, don’t read that!” he exclaimed, nearly falling off the bed as he tried to scramble over to you, so you ran out of the room, nearly slipping in the hallway as you made your way to the bathroom and locked yourself in. Roger got there two seconds too late, banging on the door as you leaned against the other side, knowing the lock wouldn’t hold long if he had a key. “Are you mad, Y/N? Give me my song book!”
You ignored him, figuring he genuinely didn’t want you to remember what he’d confessed, and kept going through the pages. On your quest to find an empty one, something caught your eye as you flipped through quickly, and you stopped. Going back, you realized that it was your name that had gotten your attention, and you got back to the page to find a song titled after you.
Curiosity got the best of you and you started reading his scribblings as best as you could. You realized it was a love song, and your heart soared as you smiled wider than you figured you ever had. Roger liked you as much as you fancied him, and now you had proof.
You heard Roger start to unlock the door with a key so you unlocked it anyways, swinging it open to find a disheveled Roger. His hair was unkempt, the duvet still caught around his foot, and he was looking at you wildly as he tried to rationalize what to do next. You were just smiling at him, his song book still open to the page you were just reading, and you held it up to show him. 
Visibly deflating, he snatched the song book from you and put a hand on your upper back, pushing you firmly but gently in the direction of his room like you were a small child in trouble for getting out of bed past bedtime.
“I didn’t write that,” he lied lamely, just making you giggle and laugh as you entered his room, crawling back into his bed. “It was… Brian. Yeah, Brian borrowed my journal and wrote that about you! Right weirdo, he is. I don’t write that mushy crud like him and Deacy.”
He leaned on his desk with one hand to reach down and unwrap the duvet from his ankle, and when he looked back up at you, you were still grinning and giggling at him. He sighed, mainly at himself, and came back over to the bed, tossing the duvet over you before reluctantly crawling back into bed with you and laying on his back, staring at the ceiling.
“Whatever you say, Rog,” you finally replied, Roger groaning softly as he refused to recognize he was on the embarrassing side of things now. However, when you curled up against his side and draped your arm loosely over his stomach, he didn’t push you away. 
In fact, as you drifted off peacefully, he even smiled a bit and wrapped an arm around you protectively, drifting off himself as he realized that, no matter how embarrassing, he’d finally gotten what he’d wanted after all this time – you.
153 notes · View notes
arthurs-wife · 5 years
Text
The Stagecoach Doesn’t Stop Here Anymore
Anonymous said to arthurs-wife: Hello! I’ve just done the mission where Mary asks Arthur to run away with her and I was going to ask if you could write a story where Arthur goes behind the readers back to run away with Mary and leaves the reader worried about him for weeks aswell as the gang so she’s rides out to look for him and finds him and Mary kissing leaving her heartbroken as well as Arthur as he begins crying/ pleading for her to come back. Could you make it a happy/ fluffy ending? Thank you ✨💕
A/N: this got lonk. i hope it makes some sense, thank you so much for the prompt and your patience!
You stood to the side of Arthur’s tent, around the wagon, and tapped your foot nervously. If you went in there were you too needy? Did you maybe give him some time? It had only been one kiss, maybe just play it off, act natural.
You took a deep breath and swung yourself around the wagon and opened your mouth to… an empty bed. Deflated, you dropped your arms to your side and looked around. Strange, his bed looked neater and the pictures were gone from his bedside table and wagon. Your head whipped around to see if his horse was still hitched, she wasn’t.
“Charles!”
Within seconds he was at your side, strapped in and ready to go.
“What’s going on?”
“It’s Arthur,” you gestured to his empty cabin, “I think he’s gone.”
Charles surveyed the scene and motioned for you to follow him. You mounted your horses and rode off towards Valentine.
A train blundered past you both, blowing its horn and clacking away as you struggled to keep up with Charles. You both skidded into the train station and hitched your horses and barrelled inside.
“When did the last train leave?” you demanded of the ticket man and Charles put his hand on your shoulder.
“Why just a few minutes ago,” the ticket man said, holding his hands up a little at your tone.
“Did you see a man get on,” you asked, “tall-ish, long brown hair and a hat with a rope around it? Would have been wearing a blue shirt probably.”
“Oh! Oh yes,” the man said excitedly, happy he could provide you with at least a little information, “yes he came through with a woman early this morning.”
“What did she look like?” Charles asked because your throat had suddenly become so tight you couldn’t breathe.
“Brown hair, freckle on her right cheek,” he said.
“Where did they go?” you managed to ask.
“I’m sorry miss,” he said, “I didn’t sell them the tickets, just happened to see them get on board.”
There was nothing more to do, so you walked out of the station, barely registering your surroundings. The sun was up proper now and people in Valentine were starting to stir.
“Who is she?” you asked when Charles had appeared beside you.
“That’d be Mary,” he said, taking your hand and walking to your horses, “I’m surprised he actually did it this time.”
“Did what?”
“Start a new life with her.”
The sun was cold.
*** You spent most of your time in the wilderness, scouting out towns and huddled around your campfire, looking for Arthur. Sometimes Charles stayed with you to help look, but you felt more alone when he was there.
Dutch had been enraged when Charles informed him what Arthur had done and locked himself away in his tent. Hosea tried to talk to him but found more yield talking to a wall. The only person who didn’t seem to be affected was Micah, who strode around the camp, thumbs in his suspenders.
“Looks like pretty boy got himself a train out of here as quick as he could, huh?”
Only Charles and Jack had offered to help you look for him, as fruitless an effort it may be.
You all rode from the Mountains of West Elizabeth to Annesburg and there was no trace of the man. One night you and Charles and John sat around a campfire on an unseasonably cold night and drank from your respective flasks. John offered you a cigarette and you took one.
“I don’t know what Dutch is gonna do if we can’t find him,” he said, mumbling as he lit his cigarette, “might just implode. Been going that way for a while.”
“Dutch’ll keep on going,” Charles shook his head, “he’s dealt with this before.”
“Doesn’t mean he was the better for it,” John said.
You laid there listening to them talk and looked up at the stars and wondered why you were even looking for Arthur. You all were going through the motions now, doing your due diligence to make sure that if you did find Arthur, he’d know you all really did care about him.
Not that he cared for you.
*** “Get behind here.”
Charles grabbed your sleeve and pulled you behind a pillar. You had finally made it to Saint Denis, three full weeks after Arthur had left you. It was the industrial side of town and the buildings were crammed together like sardines, you hated it here and could tell Charles did too.
“What is it?” you whispered and Charles nodded to a stagecoach.
You turned to look and it stopped in front of a house. The driver stepped off and opened the door, holding his hand out for-
“That’s her, Mary,” Charles hissed and you felt him restless beside you.
When she was down another man stepped out and if it weren’t for that stupid smile you wouldn’t have recognized him.
Hair trimmed short and faded on one side, his beard almost non-existent, clean suit and not a speck of dirt on his shoes. Arthur stepped out of the carriage and Mary grabbed his hand, pulling him down and kissing him.
And that just made you so god damn mad.
“Arthur you son of a bitch!”
You stomped out of your precarious hiding space and barely heard Charles trying to drag you back. The breath had left your lungs to be replaced with cold fire and brimstone and you pulled back your fist and punched him dead in the jaw.
Like it mattered, your fists were fleas compared to his face but you think you got the point across. Tears filled your eyes and you didn’t even care about Mary at this point, all your rage was focused on this man who was doing just fine without the rest of you.
“Y/n, wait, I-”
“I’m done waiting!” you cried, “I waited three weeks for you to show your face, you coward! We all waited! Do you know what you did to us?”
“I know and I’m sorry-”
“I don’t care how sorry you are!”
Charles had come up behind you quietly and taken your hand and it calmed you down a little. Always a light in such trying times. Arthur turned his gaze to Charles and pleaded with him silently.
“At least we know you’re okay, Arthur,” Charles said and you could hear the venom in his voice, see the way Arthur recoiled from it. Mary walked up to Arthur and looked between the three of you.
“Arthur, who is this?” she asked, looking at you. Somehow you couldn’t be mad at her. She was beautiful and strong enough to tear Arthur away from a life that would kill him. “Mary this is y/n,” he sighed, “and Charles.”
“You two seem to have some kind of relationship,” she said, drawing herself up.
“We don’t,” you spat, “enjoy civilization.”
You turned on your heel and left, despite the fact that both of your horses were in the opposite direction. Anything to get away from them, from the stink of this city.
You felt a hand grab yours and you thought it was Charles but you turned.
“I ain’t got nothin’ to say to you,” you said, ripping your hand out of Arthur’s.
“I made a mistake,” he said.
“You sure seemed to be enjoying that mistake by kissin’ on it.”
“Now it ain’t like that-”
“Then tell me what it’s like!” you cried. You felt so small in front of this man.
“I got scared,” he said finally, “that night with you, made me feel things I hadn’t felt in years. I went to town to clear my head and Mary got to me first, made her case and here I am. Not my proudest moment.”
“Dutch is furious,” you said.
“As he should be.”
“I’m furious.”
“I did you wrong,” he said, taking a step closer to you, “and I’m glad y’all found me.”
“You better,” you said through your gritted teeth, “get your ass back to Valentine before I kick it back there for you.”
In spite of the sour situation he grinned at you. And in even more spite, because that’s what you were made of, you stood on your toes and kissed him, taking his face in your hands and pressing as hard as you could, feeling him wrap his arms around you.
“And grow out your beard for Christ’s sake.”
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michaelreaderreblog · 5 years
Text
My truemate pt14
AN: I totally forgot to add in the title and everything. Sorry about that. Anyways the next part should be up in the next hour or so. 
CATCH UP HERE >> ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN
********************************************************
Word Count: 1,808
As the morning went on, Castiel goes onto his working duties as you look through the emails about more orders and when they needed to be ready by. You finally looked to the clock which is almost lunch time and you knew that either of your brothers were going to be home, so you thought it would be a good time to step out to delivery the party favours.
“Castiel, Im going to do the delivery now before I forget it all together. Since there are no other customers for pick up, how about you join me for this delivery?” you ask as you take the bundles of the party favours in one hand while he carries the other bundles.
“I would love to escort you” the both of you walk up the stairs to put on your shoes and jacket.
You close the door behind you to lock the door and make your way to his car and place the bundles in the back seat. He gets into the drivers side, you get in the passenger side and he drives out of the long drive way to the customers house that is located on the other side of town.
“When we get back to the house I can show you how to piece everything together and knit, how does that sound?” you ask as you look to him.
“I think that sounds good considering there are no other customers and the orders online are being requested to be finished at a later time. This would be the perfect opportunity” he says with a smile on his face as he drives by his brothers warehouse store.
Michael sits in his office humming out a melody he has stuck in mind for the past month or so. He sees his acoustic guitar in the corner and smiles while he gets up from his chair to play a little something.
As he sits back down with guitar in hands, tuning the old thing that has been sitting there collecting dust and to his delight it sounds the way he wanted it to be. While he is strumming out the melody is when he sings out the lyrics he never thought would come out with the melody.
“Every night I pray
I'll have you here someday
I'll count the stars tonight
And hope with all my might”
You began to come creeping into his thoughts while he is strumming to the music he has been trying to get out on paper. He smiles at the thought.
“And when I close my eyes
You'll be right by my side
If I could only have one wish
You'd be the girl whose lips I'd kiss
All my only dreams”
Now he cant get the image of you out of his head. While dreaming about your smile would be directed at him. Dreaming about the moment he kisses you for the first time and how you would taste like while kissing you.
“And when I close my eyes
You'll be right by my side
If I could have just one request
Stay with me, girl, I confess
All my only dreams”
Dreaming about how you would look beside him in bed while declaring each others love for one another.
“Any waking hour, it seems
I only have you in my dreams”
Now only realizing that these are only dreams but did he wish it would come true and soon enough he will have you in arms. Well if he ever gets the chance to man up and talk to Anna about this.
'Oh god Anna' he mutters to himself as he is still strumming along to the song but he cant help to finish this song first than he will go back to reality.
“So every night I'll pray
I'll have you here one day
I'll count the stars tonight
And hope with all my might”
While still having his eyes closed as he sings along to the song he has come up with and picturing you at the same time, only to think of you an inspiration for the song on how it came to be.
“That when I close my eyes
You'll be right by my side
If I could have just one request
Stay with me, girl, I confess
All my only dreams”
Anna has shown up and quietly leans against the door frame to look at the man in front of her. Well the man she is in love with but at the pit of her stomach his love is for someone else. She has all the proof she needs and thats what she is hearing after a month or so of having an idea.
The one person who lurks in the mind of her loving boyfriend is the one who is his true mate, she didnt want to admit at first but it was there. It was there when he talked about you and feeling your fear after being attacked, it was there when he had malice in his voice while talking about the person who violated you in so many ways and how he couldnt do a thing about it.
Now was her chance to confront him about everything and even end things right now for he truly belongs to someone else and not her. It was only fair considering she had met someone else while being away on business but didnt know how to tell Michael and now she thought that this was a good time to end things on good terms.
As Michael finishes his song he has basically written about you and he turns slowly to write the lyrics down along with the music before it goes away on him. When he is met by a pair of blue eyes, red waving hair and a tall slender figure by the door.
“Anna” he says as he quickly gets up from his chair to put away the guitar and to forget the song for now.
“No please sit, I want to talk to you about something” she says as she enters his office further and closes the door behind her.
“Ok, what did you want to talk to me about?” he asks as he slowly takes his seat again and she comes to sit in front of him on top of his desk.
“For a while now I know that something is going through your mind and today for the first time I can see it clearly” she says while she gazes into his eyes.
“I” Michael couldnt go on to what he was going to say when Anna shook her head.
“Its fine Michael, I see that someone lurks in the very mind of my boyfriend, the very boyfriend who I am in love with or was in love with. When only he is obviously in love with someone else and that someone else is his true mate” she says as she strokes his hand lovingly.
“How did you know?” is all that he asks and doesnt question the thought that Anna has fallen out of love with him.
“I knew when you talked about her being violated and how you desperately wanted to be the one to comfort her, how you had malice in your voice talking about the violator and how you felt completely uncomfortable upon seeing her at the diner” she says as she take her hand away from his hands.
“Anna I have wanted to talk to you about this for sometime now but didnt know how to bring it up.” he says as he looks to her.
“I see that you have been so conflicted for a while now and I thought that I would bring the topic of true mates. I meant it back in College when I said I would let you go when your true mate came along and I still mean it. So I came here to tell you that we should end things now because I dont want you to be so conflicted any longer. I see how it pains you to be away from her, when you and I have true mates” she says as a smile creeps onto her face when she talked about having one herself.
Michael looks to her in complete shock but he couldnt feel but be happy for her.
“When did you meet your true mate?” he asks as he gets up from his chair to be eye level with her.
“I met him two months ago when I left for those business trips to Seattle” she says as her smile widens and tears start to form about her true happiness.
“I am so happy for you but why wait so long to tell me when you could have said something sooner?” he asks as he pulls her into his arms to embrace her for her happiness.
“Because I didnt want to leave you just yet, only when you really found your true mate. I didnt want to see you hurt. I couldnt stand for that like I said I love you too much for you to be alone if your true mate didnt come along.” she says as she pulls away from him.
“If she hadnt come along, you were willing to sacrifice your true happiness for me?” he asks not really sure what to do after hearing that, either hug her again or kiss her but kissing isnt an option right now.
“Well yeah, I would do all of that for you. Now you have met her and its time that we part ways and be with the people who we truly belong to. Michael I wish all the happiness in the world for you along with y/n, now go and tell her how long you have waited to have her in your arms and that you never want to let her go. I love your song by the way and I am pretty sure she is going to love it when she hears it” she says as she gets up from the desk and walk out the door.
She turns back to give him one last wave good bye and Michael stares at the empty spot where she was once seated only to hear her closing the door as she walks out of his office. He can now really have his equal, truly have his equal with no one telling him at the back of his mind on how wrong it is.
He pulls out the note pad from his drawer and picks up the pen beside his phone to write down the lyrics he has sung out just moments ago. He writes out the lyrics down on the note pad with ease and he just wanted to get on the phone with his brother to tell him what had just happened between him and Anna.
TAGS HERE
Also if you’d like to listen to the song that I’ve written out the lyrics to and I’ll link it as well. Its called All My Only Dreams
Send an ask or message me if you’d like to be added to the tags for future parts to this series.
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sulevinblade · 5 years
Note
(Talesfromthefade) things you said when you were drunk, for the DWC?
OH MY GOD this was a little idea that got away from me in a big big way but I’m still pretty happy with it. For this and for “cafune - the act of running your fingers through the hair of someone you love,” from @contreparry! For @dadrunkwriting!!
Alistair/Leohta Aeducan, T for language, dumb suggestive jokes, and alcohol use, 4k+ words (awaaaay from me, I wish I had time to edit it but uh I spent the entire time writing it instead). 
On the cusp of the party’s visit to Orzammar, Alistair learns what kind of drunk Leohta can be, and shares a little lesson of his own. Light angst, serious fluff.
He finds her standing on the rocky beach, well away from the dim glow provided by the Spoiled Princess’s small windows. It takes a moment for Alistair’s eyes to adjust to the complete dark–the night watch Templar doused all the torches at the dock, as clear an indication as anything that no one else would cross Lake Calenhad tonight–but even if he’d had to follow her blind he could’ve found her by the sound.
Bloop.
Normally finding Leohta by sound means the clank or grind of armour, the grunts or barks of Leon, or even her rare laughter at something Zevran said (it was always Zevran making her laugh), but tonight the sound is completely unfamiliar. It’s still enough to guide him, though.
Bloop.
Last he’d seen her, she was swapping some of the coin they’d made selling things to the Templar quartermaster for three large bottles of deep pink liquid. It seemed a bit of a racket to Alistair, that they should collect the mages’ items as they cleared the Tower only to sell them to the Templars who would then in turn sell them back to the Mages, but surely if that wasn’t how the economy of the Circle usually worked, Wynne would’ve said something. That was Alistair’s hope, anyway, as he’d watched Leohta count the coins before they left, then again at the tavern’s bar. She’d tossed the bag back to him before collecting the bottles and heading outside, and he in turn had left it with Zevran.
Bloop.
“You have known our illustrious leader the longest among any of us. Has this always been a habit of hers?” Alistair squinted across the table, trying to determine Zevran’s game, but succeeded only in giving up his own. “You think I see this as a weakness I can exploit, but I would think even you would see that if I were going to do so, I would have done it by now and certainly would not draw attention to my plans by involving you.” His eyes only narrowed further–how does Zevran make talking down to him still seem so seductive?–but Alistair did sit back in his chair.
“I haven’t known her all that long, really, but I don’t think so. Why d'you ask?”
“My Antiva makes the finest wines in Thedas, so it is not uncommon to see those there who overindulge, but there are many types. Leohta, she is young and exploring her limits, yes, but she is also trying to drown things she does not want to feel. Her limits are low and the things she seeks to kill are very large. It is a dangerous combination.”
Alistair glanced again toward the door. Of course she hadn’t come back inside, that’d be too much to ask for, but what was he supposed to do?
“If it is too much for you, I will go after her, but she should not be alone.” Both of their chairs scraped back at the same time but Alistair was the first to stand, something that for some reason brought a sad smile to Zevran’s face. Alistair could only look at it for a moment before looking away.  "I know you do not think much of me, Alistair, and while that is entirely your loss, I do know that one thing we have in common is how much we care for her. Go see to her, my friend, before her sorrows are not all she drowns. It is probably for the best; I am not much of a swimmer myself.“
Bloop.
So now here he is, approaching carefully, pretending to be taking in the constellations while Leohta hurls rocks at the water like she’s trying to knock the waves down before they can reach the shore. The night is perfectly clear; Kinloch Hold is merely a dark space in the sky where the stars are missing, but everything else is black sky and white twinkles. He clears his throat in case she somehow hasn’t noticed since he doesn’t fancy getting one of those stones thrown at him, but she only pauses for a moment before bending to search the area around her feet for another suitable candidate. One bottle is already empty, stuffed mouth down among the pebbles and into the sand underneath them, and as Alistair finishes closing the distance Leohta gives up her search and instead tips to land on her backside, legs out in front of her and a second bottle in her hand. He knows they’re not small but her stature makes them seem even larger; it makes the sight of her lifting one to her lips almost comical but the effect is spoiled by how long it stays there. Maker’s breath, Zevran was right when he talked about drowning.
"You planning on coming up for air any time soon?”
There’s a pop as she breaks the vacuum she’s created, then a dry laugh. She still isn’t looking at him. It makes his chest hurt, how badly he wants her to turn her head. “Breathe through your nose and you can use your mouth for whatever you want.”
“You’re spending too much time with Zevran, saying things like that.” Sighing, Alistair drops down crosslegged at her side and extends a hand. “What are you even drinking? I’ve never seen anything that color in a tavern before.”
“One of the Templars told me about it. I guess–” there’s a pause and she bunches up her eyebrows, apparently trying to put the pieces back together, “I guess the mother started making it as a tribute to her daughter and now of course it’s all very sad but the owner still makes it as a specialty. Sweet mead made with roses.” She passes over the open bottle, not bothering to wipe the top, and the expression on her face, like she’s sharing a secret, distracts him so much he can’t be bothered either. She wasn’t kidding when she said it was sweet but the roses are strong too, floral and delicate. He passes the bottle back after just one mouthful.
“I’ve never had a mead like that before. It’s very… different.” Leohta seems to accept that answer, nodding before lifting the bottle to her lips again.
“There’s nothing like this in Orzammar. Not even in the palace. Not even to make it. No honey, no roses, and when there is if you said you wanted to make something like this with it, you’d be laughed out of the kitchen.” She holds the bottle in front of her contemplatively, swishing the contents back and forth gently and tilting her head in time with the motion. Alistair’d almost think it was a contented sort of gesture but then she sighs and drops her head back, hair falling over her shoulders as she lifts the bottle skyward. “Nothing like that, either. No stars, no sky. Some of the caverns are so high the ceilings are invisible, but you still know they’re up there.” Slowly, she lowers the bottle but keeps her gaze fixed upward.
“Do you miss that?” It’s not something he’s given a lot of thought to but it’s hard to imagine. Even within the walls of the Chantry there were windows. The sky was always there, or not-there maybe, when compared to a ceiling of stone. Trying to imagine life without it or everything it held–the sun, the moons, the clouds and stars and birds–was virtually impossible, but here was Leohta not just imagining the opposite but living it.
“Dunno. I still don’t understand all this. What keeps it up there?” Her hand waves up at the stars but only briefly; even sitting down she’s unsteady without both hands to support her. “With the stone, you know that even if you can’t see the ceiling, it’s still held there by the stone. Nothing floats, nothing rises or sets.” Watching her profile, he can see the way it hardens as her train of thought jumps the track. “Nothing changes.”
He shifts a little, the pebbles grinding softly underneath him as he leans to try to catch her eye. “You changed.”
This time when she looks over at him, it gives him a chill. The stone she’s been so contemplative about has found a home in her eyes, the set of her mouth. They seem cold and stiff and almost lifeless, soft evening blue turned to lapis lazuli. Still beautiful but hard. “I left, and not by choice. You wouldn’t know how much I’ve changed, Alistair. You have no idea what I was like before we met.”
“I suppose not, but I do know you’ve changed in the time I’ve known you.” He keeps his voice softer now, speaking carefully to avoid that stony shift becoming somehow permanent. He hasn’t seen her look like that since before Ostagar, and to lose all the little ways she’s softened since then would be the greatest waste. “Do you miss that? Or her, I guess. Do you miss who you were before?”
Her laugh is a single humorless sound that moves her entire body, shaking her shoulders and flexing her stomach. “What does that matter? She’s dead. Worse than dead.” There’s venom in her voice but Alistair doesn’t flinch since for once he’s certain it’s not directed at him. He watches as Leohta stands, a wobbly process that involves repeated planting of hands and feet before she can push herself vertical. There’s a powerful temptation to offer her help but the set of her jaw makes him stay his hand, even if whatever effect she might be going for is already ruined by her own unsteadiness. “Nobody mourned her, nobody misses her, but it doesn’t change the fact that she’s dead. Bhelen killed her as sure as he killed Trian. The prince is dead, the princess is dead. Princess Aeducan is dead.” Her voice is raising, getting louder and more raw the longer she speaks, until finally she’s yelling out at the water. “Princess Leohta Aeducan, second born and best beloved daughter of House Aeducan, is dead!” She punctuates the last word by throwing the empty bottle into the water but it’s a bad throw, short and shallow. The bottle makes only a small splash then floats, reflecting the moonlight as it bobs its way back toward the shore.
Alistair rises, brushing at the back of his breeches, and makes his way up to stand beside her. He’s well within punching range, possibly a dangerous gamble, but if the way she’s carrying herself is any indication, it wouldn’t hurt very much right now. Plus, if she punched him, at least it’d prove she was feeling something. “I’d mourn her but like you said, I never did get to meet her. I’ve met Warden Aeducan, though, and I think she’s pretty great. Accomplished a lot, too.”
She’s bent back down and is sorting through the stones at her feet, tucking some in the bend of her other arm. Standing back up is a careful process but she’s shaking her head the entire time. “They’re not gonna think so.” Her voice is normal again but her profile is still stony.
Bloop.
Was this was he was like heading into Redcliffe? Of course, he hadn’t gotten drunk on sickly sweet mead to deal with it, but he’d had his turn as the prodigal royal-but-not-really. The main difference was he never wanted it, but she spoke so little of her life before the Grey Wardens. Was the crown of Orzammar what she’d really wanted? Not that it really mattered now. “Seems to me they had their chance to appreciate you and they blew it.”
“Oh, no. That’s the thing. Up until the end, they loved Princess Aeducan. That was the whole problem. She was too well-loved. Luckily, I’m not.” Leohta stares out at the ripples from her last throw but the fight’s going out of her. It ought to be a comfort, less risk of being punched, but instead it just hurts more. He curls his hands into fists at his sides to keep from reaching out, swallows the words that’d tell her just how deeply loved she is and not only by him, as much as he might wish it were so.
“We could go back to Denerim without going to Orzammar.” Aaaaaaaalistair, what’re you doooooooing? He ignores the voice in the back of his head, prepared to make an argument for mounting their assault without the help of the dwarves, but Leohta shakes her head. She’s drunk and she’s still got better sense than you.
“Just because I don’t want to go back doesn’t mean we don’t have to. Being a Grey Warden isn’t supposed to be fun, hasn’t been so far, why start now?” She seems to consider the matter closed as she turns her attention back to the rocks she’s holding, sorting through them as though looking for a particular one. They start to slip away and clack into the pebbles below and with a frustrated sigh she picks one, letting the remainder drop. “This is supposed to be, though. How the fuck do you do this?” Another windup, another bloop.
“Wait. What are you trying to do?”
“Make it…” She shakes her head, the word apparently lost, and instead makes a bouncing motion with her hand.
“You’re trying to skip stones… by heaving them at the surface of the water with all your might?” And there’s the punch he was waiting for, exactly as painless as expected. It’s not even hard enough to stop him laughing.
“I saw you and Zevran do it in Redcliffe before we left and it seemed to calm you down so I thought I’d try. You made it look easy, but if you’re just gonna laugh then forg–”
Alistair intercepts her before she can start to walk away. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just that I never would have guessed that’s what you were trying to do. I thought you were mad at the lake or something.” She’s looking up at him, wary, so he holds his hands up in innocence. “If you still want to try, I can show you.”
“No more laughing?”
“No more laughing. Warden’s honor.” When Leohta seems satisfied with his intentions, Alistair finally looks away from her, crouching down. “The first thing you need is the right kind of rock. It needs to be pretty flat and you want a triangle shape if you can find one, but flat will do for now.”
She’s crouching as well. “I thought it would be better with a round rock, like a ball.” She’s quiet, almost chastized, and Alistair has to duck his head and cough into his fist to hide the grin it conjures.
“No, that’ll break through the water and sink. A flat rock will bounce better. Something like these.” He shows her the three he’s found, all rounder still than he’d like but they should do the trick. She holds up a couple of her own and really, they’re no better, but they’re only for learning. “Yes, those will do. Now.” Alistair drops to his knees and crooks his fingers around one of the stones. “You have to hold it like this, because the important part is that you get it to spin. That’s what makes it skip.”
Leohta’s squinting at his hand, then she tries it out herself. Her hands are smaller so she can’t quite circle it the way he does, but Alistair hopes it’ll work out. “Like this?”
“Just like that. Now, the other trick is not to throw it up but to flick it. You want it to stay flat so you have to kind of–” He turns his arm out at the elbow and flicks the rock out onto the water. Four hops, not his best work but not bad.
When he looks back at Leohta, though, she’s entranced. She watches the ripples so long he has to clear his throat to get her attention back, but this time every trace of the stone is gone from her face. She looks eager, determined, but also a little embarrassed. Surprised to have been caught, probably, but it’s a charming expression nonetheless. She turns to face the water again, weighing the rock in her hand, then moves her arm and throws.
It splashes and sinks just like all her other attempts. Leohta curses softly and starts to turn away but Alistair catches her wrist.
“Hey, no way. You’re not giving up after one attempt. C'mon. We’ve got two more rocks, so two more tries, then I guess I can let you give up.” He starts to move before she can start to argue.
“It’s not giving up, Alistair, it’s accepting the inedible. Inedibibble. Ined… remind me to compliment the tavernkeeper tomorrow. His stuff is good.” Her voice gradually gets softer, a delayed reaction to where Alistair has taken up a position just behind her. It’s extremely convenient for him: she can’t see how his face is burning up from the presumptuousness of being so close to her, but it’s also the best position to show her how to move her arm. He wraps his hand around hers and lifts her arm into position.
“From here, you have to flick your hand out. Try to imagine the rock spinning out from the inside of your thumb and taking all that energy with it. The harder you can flick it, the more it’ll bounce and the more hops you’ll–all right, that’s it, you and Zevran are officially being separated because that’s not even dirty and now you’ve made it dirty. I hope you’re happy.” The woman in front of him is struggling to contain her laughter, he can tell, and as much as he wants to keep her focus on him, it’s hard to be genuinely upset. She doesn’t laugh nearly enough and especially not around him. The fact that whatever is so funny is lost on him is a far distant concern.
Alistair waits for her to compose herself then takes a moment to compose himself in turn when she settles back into a proper posture that puts her in contact with him from shoulder to hip. She’s nearly as tall as he is when he’s on his knees like this, a fact he’s thought about many times but never quite in this situation. Leohta gives herself a little shake, tossing her hair in his face as she does. He tries to blow it out of the way but there’s just too much. All right then, one thing at a time.
“Now. Just remember, angle your hand back and then flick. That word is ruined for me now, I think. You’ve ruined flicking.” In front of him Leohta snorts and Alistair make a private vow to forbid Zevran from using that word. He wants it to be their joke even if he doesn’t understand it. “Do you think you can manage?”
“To flick? I’ve done all right for the last few years anyway.” She giggles and clears her throat. “All right. Angle my hand back,” and her hand is moving inside of his so he loosens his grip, “then forward and flick!”
Alistair peers over her shoulder and sure enough. Blip, blip. One hop, but it’s one more than she’d managed before. He puts his hands on her shoulders and squeezes. “There you go! Well done, Warden Aeducan.” She lifts one hand to pat his but he can tell she’s still looking at the ripples.
After a moment, he releases her shoulders and, feeling a little bolder by the fact that she hasn’t elbowed him away yet, reaches forward to comb his fingers through her hair. It’s a practical gesture–even as he’s speaking, her hair is getting in his mouth–but hardly exclusively practical. Her hair is thick and her scalp surprisingly warm underneath it. In front of him she’s gone very still; he thinks she might even be holding her breath but then again, so is he. He focuses on his own hands until he’s gathered her hair at the back of her neck, but then the tension in it changes and oh.
Alistair looks up and she’s right there, her head turned to look at him. Maker’s breath but she’s close, her mouth gently open and her eyes searching his face. Her breath smells like honey and roses and his hand is still in her hair, it’d be so easy and it might be perfect but she’s been drinking and that’s not right. Or might it be OK, with her looking at him like that? The motion of her lips is so mesmerizing that it takes him a moment to realize she’s speaking to him.
“Alistair.” And like that, the moment is over, or at least set aside. “Would you do that again?”
“Of course.” She could ask him to fetch the moons from the sky right now and he’d say yes, but… “Wait, do what?” He didn’t do anything other than have a whole lot of thoughts in a very short span of time.
“Touch my hair. That was nice.” She’s leaning more of her weight against him now and it’s nice but also just starting to make him concerned. Still, he already said yes, so Alistair releases her hair from where he’s holding it and threads his fingers through it again, starting at her temple, mindful of and parallel to the little braid she’s so meticulous about. As he does it, her eyes drift closed but her face is relaxed. It’s not quite a smile but he’ll take it. “Again,” she murmurs as his hand comes to rest on the back of her neck.
Alistair laughs softly but he complies with her request, stroking his fingers through her hair again. And again, and once more, until she leans forward completely and drops her head onto his shoulder. Her breath is warm on his neck as he gives her one last stroke, then stops to reach out away from her. She grumbles softly in protest but he hushes her. “I’m just getting your other bottle. It’s bought and paid for, no sense leaving it here.”
“Why, where’re we going?”
“I don’t know yet about myself but you are doing to bed. Sleeping standing up is only good for horses and probably Sten, and sleeping on your knees is good for no one. Now, come on, up you get.” He hooks the hand holding the unopened bottle of rhodomel under Leohta’s knees, his other arm coming up behind her shoulders. She grumbles again as he starts to stand and he pauses before beginning to walk.
“You’re carrying me like a princess.” The humor in her voice warms him but now he feels a little more confident about deflecting it.
“I’m a Warden carrying another Warden like a Warden. No princesses here. Well, except for the tavern but I’m certainly not trying to pick that up. I could throw you over my shoulder if you wanted, but you have to promise not to throw up on my back.”
“No promises.” She slumps against his shoulder as he starts to walk. It’s only a few steps from the beach to the door but he takes his time. Who knows what Orzammar will do to her, or what she might do to Orzammar? The answer is liable to be complicated but this, for as unexpected as it is, feels strangely simple. She might not even remember it in the morning, but it’s not a feeling Alistair’s going to forget any time soon. “Alistair.”
“I don’t have a free hand to pet you, but if you can stay awake until we get inside, maybe I’ll give you scritches once I get you upstairs.” He’s trying to figure out how he’s going to open the door when she shakes her head and answers.
“Thank you for coming out tonight. I’m sorry I’m–”
“None of that now. You have nothing to be sorry for, and if anything I should say thank you for having me.” Alistair manages to hook the latch with his pinkie then wedge his foot into the gap, kicking the door open as he maneuvers her inside. “You may not have found it so, but I think being a Warden can be a little bit fun, if you’re with the right person. Or people,” he continues, scrambling to cover for himself while trying to ease the door’s closing with his foot. Once he’s got both feet back on the ground, he looks down at the woman in his arms. Fast asleep, looking as young as he’s ever seen her and more peaceful than she has possibly the entire time he’s known her. The inn’s main room is empty, the fire doused, and he’s almost loathe to speak again and interrupt the silence, but he does.
“Or person. Just the right person.”
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i-writing-is-hard-i · 6 years
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Blood Traitor pt7
Summary:  You are Draco’s older sister.  A pureblood Witch, without the prejudice and anti-muggle beliefs of your family. Who just so happened to fall in love with none other than a blood traitor, just to complicate matters more Voldemort has returned.  What will you do?
okay, I suck at writing descriptions,
[Disclaimer] Mentions of sex, violence, and hints of torture, I may have screwed up the timeline somewhere along the way, and no one dies, because, thats sad
[Begining]  - [Previous] - [Next]
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Part 7
Days had passed since George’s love confession, yet you still had a spring in your step.  You had noticed George looked happier than normal too.  The two of you managed to meet up every two days.  Thankfully.  Even if it meant sitting in silence to do homework.  Well, you did homework, he goofed off, but he let you get on with it without much fuss.  Sometimes you would read while he worked on something for his shop.  It was nice, and you couldn’t hope for more.
It was now time for the first Quidditch match of the school year.  Gryffindor v Slytherin, even if your boyfriend was on opposing team, you had to root for your own house right?, though most were nothing but thugs.  Today was the first time you had ever felt embarrassed by the other supports.  They had come up with a cruel chant for Ron, he already had confidence issues, this was not helping.  As the crowd chanted, Lee Jordan tried to drown it out.  You could faintly make out a lion’s roar, scanning the Gryffindor crowd you found the source, someone was wearing a large lion’s head,  it actually looked pretty cool,  you quickly enchanted it, without being noticed so that the roars would drown out the noise of the Slytherin’s but it only made them sing louder, they were pretty much screaming at this point.  It was deafening
You were actually a little disappointed when your team was winning, you had a feeling it was because of the chanting, but the snitch still had to be caught, that would turn it around and just as you were thinking that, Harry dove, followed by your brother.  Harry caught it.  The Gryffindor’s won.  The crowd erupted into cheers and complaints.  You watched the teams land, Gryffindors players swarming Harry.  Your heart sunk when you watched Draco walking towards them.  Just as you guessed, he said something, probably cruel.  Whatever it was angered the twins, from here you couldn’t really tell who was who, but one of them was being held back by two people, while Harry held the other.  Suddenly Harry and the Twin he was holding back dove on to Draco, you instinctively stood up, he was an arse, but he is still your brother.  You didn’t have to do anything though, Professor McGonagall intervened.  The two were ushered away from the rest, while Draco was seen too.  
You had reached the common room, before Draco, but he as soon as he entered everyone bombarded him.
“Draco what did you say to them?” Pansy asked
“Nothing, I only spoke the truth” Draco feigned innocence.
“Then why would they attack you like that, That Potter really is crazy, and those blood traitor Weasleys” someone spoke, you felt yourself become defensive.
“You were talking about their mothers” someone explained, in an indifferent tone
“Well, of course, they got angry you insulted their loved one’s idiot.  You don’t get to play the victim when you do something like that” you pointed out.  Some people agreed with you, others just glared.  
“Well, I only told the truth” Draco lied.
“Really? And what was it you said” you continued.
“I simply pointed out that their house stink” Draco smiled
“You insulted a dead woman Draco, that’s pretty shameful” you were getting annoyed at how calm and okay with that he was, but you didn’t let it show.
“And? why do you care?” Draco asked defensively
“Why do I care that my brother is acting like a right dick? Because it’s embarrassing” you kept your cool,  the people around you stiffened, turning their attention to other things, but of course, they were still listening.
“Since when did you start caring so much about the Weasley’s and Potter?”
“It’s not them, its the fact that you're, well, you are a childish bully and it’s embarrassing, and I am not going to argue with you, especially in front of everyone, so I am going” you stood up leaving Draco and heading to your room.
The next day you were waiting for George, he had detention, thanks to his ‘outburst’ you knew it would be after curfew, but you didn’t mind.  You kind of wanted to apologise on behalf of Draco.  Finally, he came in rubbing his hand, like he was in pain, you looked down to see the scarring. instinctively you ran over to him, grabbing his hand to get a better look.
“What is this?” you asked, looking up at his face.  He looked annoyed.  You looked back down to his hand, though it was healing, you could tell it was, words, layered on top of each other.
“Did Umbridge have something to do with this?” you asked.
“It’s fine don’t worry about it” George went to pull his hand away, but your grip tightened, pulling out your wand
“Hold still” you ordered.  You used Episkey on it, healing the remaining scarring and easing the pain it had caused then you kissed it.
“I know Draco insulted your mum and Lily Potter” you mumbled, “I am sorry, he’s an arse”
“Forget it, it wasn’t your fault” George was blushing bright, from your kiss.  Your eyes drifted back to his hand.
“So, what happened?” you repeated.
“Eh, Umbridge’s new punishment” George explained,
“Excuse me, Umbridge’s new punishment? it’s abuse, she hurt you” you were clearly annoyed.
“Well, who’s gonna stand up to her about it, besides’s Fred and I will get her back for this” George smiled, he kind of liked it when you were being protective
“Well, it better be good, but it’s still wrong, do the other teachers know? we should tell them, she can’t get away with this, the old bat” you ranted, pacing the room.  George’s smile grew, but then he quickly looked sad again
“This isn’t the worst of it” he muttered.
“What?” you turned to him again, he could see the anger in your eyes.
“Fred, Harry and I have been permanently banned from playing Quidditch while we are at Hogwarts, she got our brooms locked up”
“What!” you practically yelled, “But that leaves your team with no beaters of seeker!”
As annoyed George was, he couldn’t help but smile at your reaction “Gah, you two better make her life a living hell here” you ordered.  This made George burst out laughing
“You are adorable, sometimes love” he breathed, “But don’t worry we have it all planned out”.  
You joined in on the laughing.
“Good, but this is Draco’s fault and for that I am sorry” you spoke.
“Your brother said some mean things, but we shouldn’t have gone for him like that, bloody deserved it though”
“I should really say no to that, but if the tables were turned I would have probably done the same” you mumbled feeling a little guilty for agreeing
“By the way, where did you learn that spell?” George changed the subject for you.
“Charms, Weasley, some of us pays attention in class” you smiled, George simply shrugged,
A few days later, you were sitting in potions working on the brew in front of you, when you felt eyes watching.  You had expected to see George looking at you, but it wasn’t him, it was Tommy, a Slytherin.  He used to flirt with you all the time, but Ignis had warned him off you since then he barely talked to you let alone.  He wasn’t a bad guy.  He seemed to have gained confidence again because recently he had started flirting with you since the start of the year.  When you looked up he gave you smile, you quickly smiled back as to not be rude, then turned your attention back to the colourful liquid.
After class, he caught up to you, as you left the room
“So, huh, Y/N, I know we are pretty busy with all this school work, but I was thinking we could head to Hogsmeade this weekend,” Tommy asked, smoothly, with just the right amount of confidence that most girls would love, not you of course.  He slowly leaned into inter the pretense that it was so he could hear your reply over the crowd, but it was a little too close for your comfort.
“Actually, I uh, have plans” you replied, you actually hadn’t.
“Oh, well we could hang out after class, it’s not like we have much time left at school to spend together,” Tommy asked
Your eyes darted up to see George watching you could really read his expression, it made you smile.
“Well, maybe pretty busy with school work, but I will let you know, when I am free” you smiled sweetly at him, you had no intention in hanging out with him but you didn’t want to be rude.
You weren’t aware that George was now in earshot of your conversation.
“Great, I look forward to it” Tommy looked pretty happy the outcome, you felt a bit guilty, but it wasn’t like you could tell him ‘Sorry I’m dating someone’  after that rather awkward moment you headed down the corridor towards the library, it was a free period, before Dinner.  There was so much work to do.  Just as you reached the door, a certain redhead slid a note into your hand, you quickly read it, ‘Meet me’ it was all it said.  You were supposed to meet BFF/N but decided you could come up with a good excuse later, besides the two of you had agreed to meet later on anyway so you assumed it would be quick.
Pretending you forgot something in potions you made your way down the corridor, slipping down another without being seen until you reached the far empty room.  George was pacing around inside.  Once you had closed the door, he had you pinned up against the door.  Kissing you harshly.  It took your breath away and caused you to drop your bag.  
“George?” you breathed, but he moved his lips to your neck, sliding kisses down while his hands gliding down to your arse.
After some more intense moves from George, he pulled away.  Looking sheepishly at you.
“Sorry, Tommy has been flirting with you too much for liking”  he mumbled.  Looking at your slightly annoyed expression.  The reason of which was because he pulled away.  To show this, you pressed your lips to his, just as urgent as he had.  Pushing him back onto the table.  He didn’t put up a fight as he stumbled back, you took the opportunity to remove your jumper and his before pressing your lips against his.  Part of you was doing this because you simply wanted him, but the other part of you wanted him to know you only cared for him.  George didn’t complain at all, lifting you up letting you wrap your legs around his waist.
Things only heated up from there.
The two of you laid in breathless silence beside each other.  Your clothes were scattered around the room.  It wasn’t exactly the first time the two had done it, but it was never quite as intense.  Once you two caught your breath, you both quickly got dressed, rushing down to dinner, looking a bit of a mess, but you covered yourself by saying you had fallen asleep when BFF/N asked.
Later before you were to meet up with George again you headed up to your dorm room to get changed.
“So, What is going on?, I know you are seeing someone, and I am guessing it’s someone you shouldn’t be seeing” BFF/N suddenly asked.  You froze mid-change.
“What makes you say that,” you asked, returning, tossing your shirt on the bed.
“Well those marks are a dead giveaway” she continued.  You quickly looked in the mirror, finding love bites scattered around your body.  You stared wide-eyed at yourself, you hadn’t even noticed them earlier when you were getting changed.
“Uh, well, I” you stuttered what were you going to tell her? You knew she wouldn’t tell anyone, or even judge but was it still the right thing to do?
“Oh, great Godric, is it a teacher, but who would it be?” she started pondering to herself.
“It’s not a teacher” you stated, blankly.
“Oh, then who, if you can’t tell me then that’s okay” she smiled, at you with a slightly sad expression.  
“It’s not that I don’t want to tell you, it’s just” you did really want to tell her.  She looked so sad, and a little hurt.
“It’s George” you, blurted out.  Feeling a little bit better already.
“George who?” just as she asked that realisation hit her. “George Weasley?”
You nodded as she stared.
“Ah, I see, that’s why would can’t tell anyone” she looked sad again.
“Yeah, well, after this year we won’t have to worry about keeping it hidden” you smiled.
“So, how long as it been going on?, is this who you're with when you disappear?, who asked who out” BFF/N bombarded you with questions, it felt normal.  You smiled at her, maybe sharing somethings wouldn’t be bad.
“Well, we’ve been dating since the ball, George made the first move and yes he is who I am with when I go off, I am not telling you where I do” she shared, as you continued to get ready.  BFF/N wanted to know more and more details but you were going to be late.
“Don’t worry Y/N, I won’t tell anyone and I can help cover you, when you go know” you were grateful for it, you said goodbye and left to go meet George.
You were sitting there for a while before he arrived.  
“Sorry I am late, Fred wouldn’t get off my case, he’s eventually going to notice” George replied, he gave you a kiss on the cheek then plopped down beside you.
“You can tell him if you think that’s okay,” you said.
“I think I will if you are really okay with that,” he asked
“Well, thanks to you, BFF/N knows” you pulled down your shirt revealing one of the love bites he had left.  George's face went the same colour as his hair.
“Uh, Sorry” he was smiling a bit pleased with himself but then he caught on.
“She won’t tell anyone” you reassured.
George relaxed, laying his head down on your lap,
“I thought we were going to homework” you smiled.
“I have an idea, you read and I listen” he suggested.  In Transfiguration, you had to read a few chapters of the textbook, for a quiz tomorrow so you agreed. Reading the book out loud.
George loved the sound of your voice, he could listen to you talk all day, and somehow he managed to take in every word you said and remembered it all.  You quizzed him every so often to see if he was actually listening, and he got it right, then again it might have been because you gave him a kiss every time he got a questioned right.  All in all, it was a rather productive night.  George was the first to get up, helping you up.  He quickly gave you a kiss and a hug.
“I love you” he smiled
“I love you too” you kissed him quickly then left.
The next day at breakfast, none of the Weasleys showed up, it was the same at lunch and dinner.  Maybe they went home early?.  Later that evening you were supposed to meet George again before the Christmas holidays, but he was a no-show.  You were getting worried, but who were you to ask?  BFF/N tried to reassure you but nothing she said worked.  
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