Cicadas sing a sharp song in the trees. The heat blisters the pavement. It’s a miserable summer afternoon for most people, which is why Wei Ying loves it. It’s nothing compared to sticky, swampy Yunmeng summers. In dry heat like this, the sun feels good and the trees are brilliant green and Wei Ying loves being alive.
He doesn’t love being in class, but at least everyone is miserable along with him in this heat. Lots of mopping brows, lots of unsatisfied murmurs. Is there any relief to be found in Gusu on such a day? Some have heard there’s a lake a bit further up in the mountains, big enough for swimming. But they’re not allowed to go up there; it’s off limits to everyone but Lan inner disciples. Only Wei Ying knows for a fact that it’s there; that’s because he’s been sneaking off up there every night since summer school started.
Lan Qiren enters and the room falls silent. The frantic wiping of sweat of brows continues, a current of activity in the quiet classroom. Lan Qiren surveys them silently and frowns. He’s sweating, too.
“Due to the excessive heat,” he says, coughing, “the upper grounds of Cloud Recesses will be opened to students for the duration of the day. That includes the lake. The back hills and the waterfall are still off limits.” Nobody picks up this last bit, because the minute Lan Qiren says “lake,” the room starts to buzz with whispers.
Not even Lan Qiren can quell them; there’s a torrent of nervous energy in this room, and it won’t survive an entire lesson. Sure enough, about twenty minutes before the end of the class students start gathering their things as though they’re ready to bolt. Wei Ying knows they’re only waiting for one of them to take the lead, and they’ll all start filing out with or without Lan Qiren’s say-so. Well, that’s a position he’s always happy to fill. He stretches out, grabs his backpack, and leaves the room without a word or a look back.
He heads up the stone stairs carved into the mountain, backpack slung loosely over one arm, whistling to himself. The other students will have some time catching up to him; he knows the way to the lake, and they don’t; besides, they have to go change, and Wei Ying always keeps his swimsuit in his backpack, just in case. So he climbs the stairs solo and pushes through the line of vegetation that lies between the path and the lake.
He’s about to emerge from the trees when a splash draws his attention. Quickly, he hides and peers over at the lake.
Someone’s already there and swimming. Wei Ying sees dark hair, pulled into a neat topknot, and the lines of what looks like a fairly strong body, blurred by the moving water. Some student has beat him to it. Which is a little surprising, because Wei Ying’s the only one with the chutzpah to sneak off in this direction when they’re supposed to be somewhere else. He watches in kind of dumb fascination as the swimmer moves to the near edge of the pond and surfaces.
Oh. Oh, that explains it.
It’s Lan Qiren’s annoyingly perfect nephew, Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan, who is too good to attend classes with students his own age. Lan Zhan who, rather than making friends with such students, serves as a sort of disciplinarian, regularly snapping unruly students back into line with nothing more than a cold glance from his admittedly perfect face. Lan Zhan, who Wei Ying had to learn to avoid early in the summer, because he kept catching him trying to sneak out or tiptoe into forbidden places. That Lan Zhan.
Wei Ying steels himself to be utterly annoyed by whatever happens next.
Lan Zhan lingers for a time, head and shoulders above water. Then he approaches a large rock where his things sit in a neat white bundle. In one fluid movement, he lifts himself up with both hands on the rock and swings into a sitting position, his toes in the water.
It all happens like slow motion. Wei Ying’s brain sputters, then lurches, then goes completely on the fritz.
He’s—he’s—he’s actually perfect.
Wei Ying knew he was perfect, but that was an annoyance like everything. The beauty of his face was a mockery of everything Wei Ying stands for. He could find words to speak when faced with that stern face, but his words have dried up now, because Lan Zhan’s body is – Lan Zhan’s muscles are –
He has no idea Wei Ying is watching him. His face is serene, his body relaxed, and the sun beats on him like a spotlight, turning the edges of his skin to gold. Wei Ying is gobsmacked. How dare he. How dare he sit there with that expression, not knowing that he’s turning Wei Ying’s insides into molten lava just by being there … with thighs like that .. and a bare chest like a sculpted statue … and good god his arms, and his shoulders, and he already has an annoyingly perfect face, only now it’s matched up with that — thatbody, and Wei Ying has never wanted to close his mouth around a drop of water the way he does now, as water trickles down Lan Zhan’s chest.
Oh, and he’s wearing a fucking Speedo.
It’s common knowledge that a Speedo looks stupid on like 95 percent of guys, and yet Lan Zhan looks as though it was created solely to fit him. And nothing is left to the imagination. Holy fuck,that knowledge is going to burn though him until he’s cinders. He struggles to concentrate on something – anything but that.
It’s going to be a very different experience the next time Lan Zhan disciplines him.
Oh. Oh, now his mind is up and running again, but the direction it’s going is dangerous. Lan Zhan angry with him, Lan Zhan throwing him against a wall, Lan Zhan tossing him to the grass. Standing over him. Kneeling over him. Those powerful thighs and well-muscled arms. A hard hand on his wrists, unyielding no matter how much Wei Ying resists. Lan Zhan forcing Wei Ying to his knees. Lan Zhan between Wei Ying’s legs, edging forward, pinning him down as…
“Fuck,” he swears, suddenly and far too loudly. Lan Zhan looks up. Eyes suddenly sharp, he leaps to his feet and scans the tree line. Wei Ying has no choice. He just hopes Lan Zhan doesn’t glance between his legs when he shows himself.
He steps forward from the trees, waving a halfhearted hand. “Hi, Lan Zhan,” he says with a grin. “Fancy meeting you here.”
Lan Zhan’s brows knit. “You’re not supposed to be here.”
“Oh, but I am!” Wei Ying keeps moving forward, despite his best intentions. Lan Zhan’s body is like a gravity well, drawing him closer. “They lifted the restriction so we could all come up and swim today. It’s brutal out,” he says, squinting and raising against the sun although he’s actually perfectly comfortable.
“Oh.” Lan Zhan looks at him warily. “So others are coming?”
He says it evenly, but Wei Ying wonders if there isn’t some trepidation there. He’s perturbed enough that Wei Ying’s entered his space; what are twenty-some classmates going to do to him? “They’re changing,” he says. “They’ll be here in a few minutes.” He grins. “Just you and me for the time being.”
Hethinks the look in Lan Zhan’s eyes is anger, but he doesn’t know for sure. “How do you know this place?” he asks, sounding unsure and not at all like his usual gentlemanly self.
“Oh, your uncle explained how to get here when he gave us the notice this morning,” Wei Ying lies. “I just didn’t have to go back and change like the others, so I got here faster.” He taps his backpack. “Swimsuit’s in here.”
Lan Zhan’s eyes widen. “You’re going to change … here?”
“Why not? Ain’t nobody here but us boys,” Wei Ying says, and winks. He’s suddenly terrified of showing Lan Zhan his naked skin, but he can’t afford to show it. He strips off his T-shirt.
Lan Zhan turns as though offended by the sight. Well, sure he would be, since no one else can measure up to him, Wei Ying thinks. “Hey Lan Zhan, is this what you do while the rest of us are suffering in class?” he asks breezily, stripping off his shorts and boxers. Lan Zhan’s back remains resolutely turned. “Just swimming out here like a fish all day long? I bet I could beat you in a race.”
“There’s not … room here to race,” Lan Zhan says. He still won’t look.
“We’ll go down to Biling Lake next time,” Wei Ying challenges. “You can look at me now. The swimsuit’s on. I won’t offend your sensibilities.”
“I’m not offend—” Lan Zhan turns, and then something clips the edge of his word. He stares at Wei Ying like he’s got three heads.
“Oh, well, glad to hear, then.” Wei Ying sits down on the rock where Lan Zhan had been. “So. Mind if I take a dip?”
The coolness returns to Lan Zhan’s voice. “Suit yourself.” But he’s still staring at Wei Ying.
For just one moment, Wei Ying remembers all those earlier fantasies. That’s exactly the look he imagined on Lan Zhan’s face in those moments. The look where he can’t quite keep his anger in check. The look that says Wei Ying’s getting to him. Wei Ying has no idea how he is gettingto Lan Zhan in this moment, just sitting on a rock. Unless…
Nah, couldn’t be.
The next moment, Lan Zhan’s diving into the water. His body is an arc of movement, a single curved line, and Wei Ying loses his breath again. Apparently he needed to be reminded that Lan Zhan’s body is a flawless machine. His brain is pinging madly and he wants with all his heart to just drop into the water and swim for Lan Zhan like a shark. That would probably be a bad idea. He knows he probably has an advantage in an underwater tussle, but somehow, he doesn’t really want to win anymore.
Lan Zhan has emerged, in a shallow portion of the lake, his head and half his chest visible above the water line. He has eyes on Wei Ying. “Well?” he asks, something curiously hesitant in his voice.
“Well, what?” Wei Ying feels like he should be holding his breath. He’s careful to keep his voice casual.
Lan Zhan looks down, then to the side, then to him again. It’s a very un-Lan-like action. After a short silence, he ventures in what is almost – not quite – a tentative voice, “Are you coming in?”
Wei Ying stares down at him. The silence that follows is pregnant with possibility.
“Wei-xiong!”
Nie Huaisang bursts first through the treeline, then, following him, the rest of the students in noisy gaggles. “Wei-xiong, how did you find this place so quickly? We all got turned around looking for it—”
Splashes sound here and there as the students find their way into the lake. Soon, the whole place is echoing with the sound of laughter and chatter. Wei Ying’s gaze finds Lan Zhan, through an increasingly dense thicket of people. Lan Zhan is looking at him with eyes that are almost sad. A moment later, he turns away.
It’s disappointing. Wei Ying had thought – perhaps imagined? – that there was something starting to happen there, something thawing in the relationship between them. He considers giving chase. But Lan Zhan is striding through the trees and disappearing before he can say a thing. So much for that.
Still, Wei Ying has an image he didn’t have before. Lan Zhan, dipped in gold, his body bare and his chin uplifted toward the sun. It’s printed in indelible ink on his mind now, along with a memory of Lan Zhan’s gaze, softer perhaps than Wei Ying has ever seen it. He closes his eyes and savors both the picture and the memory for a moment. Then, grinning, he rejoins his friends.
a/n: I am really excited to share this piece with everyone. I love watching boxing movies, so some of my knowledge may be lacking, so if you know more than me, please don’t make fun of me. But I hope everyone enjoys reading about Zoya kicking ass and being amazing.
Summary: Zoya has been burned by her former coach and doesn’t want anything to do with this match he set up with his new athlete, Elizaveta. But this might be the only way to protect her family. And maybe this might be the only way she can finally be free of him.
a/n: its that time of year again, @grishaversebigbang posting time and here’s what I got for y’all!
this AU grabbed my by the neck and dragged me along with it. Reuben and Eva made some absolutely lovely creations to go along with this fic so be sure to check those out and give ‘em a reblog
and as usual, thanks to @reapersbarge for saving you all from my crimes against the english language
Summary: Mal Oretsev and Zoya Nazyalenksy are the biggest rivals in professional hockey. Too bad their partners compete together in Ice Dance and its impossible to escape one another.
aka 5 times Zoya and Mal were rivals and 1 time they also were rivals but different.
So when “The Sweet Mess of You” began, Jaime and Brienne were living in separate buildings. This is how I imagined their respective buildings looked like. Can you guess which is Jaime’s and Brienne’s?
“I thought this time I’ll do it right,” he explained, not hiding his pleasure at her carnation-pink cheeks and trembling smile. Her heart thudded a hundred beats a second, or more. Faster. He took the toy from her, glancing at the ring before looking up at her again. “You shot me down the first time.”
The memory drew a very bright tomato blush from her cheeks. “Jaime, you were inside me when you asked me.”
“You say yes plenty of times when I’m in you like that. Was it because my cock was in your ass?”
“I was Jaime Lannister. Sugarslayer.” He spat out the word. “Four years grand champion. But for what? I almost lost the shop. The man who was more of a father to me than the real one died. I hurt his daughter. I knew from the first moment I didn’t deserve Brienne. I wanted so much to forget who I used to be. I wanted to be the man she deserved—the person her father believed in. But I guess I fooled her too.”
A/N: A bonus chapter today because when I was revising Chapter Nineteen, I realized it was a monsterof a chapter and so broke it into two. Enjoy!
Summary: Thorin Durin likes his life just the way it is—his pub is successful, he’s happily playing the field when it comes to women. He wouldn’t change a damn thing about it. At least, not until he meets Leda Andrews, who stops to help him when his car dies on the side of the road.
Leda is new in town, and late for a job interview when she stops to help a guy with his broken down old car. The last thing she expected was for him to be the same guy who owns the pub where she’s applied to be a bartender, never mind to be one of the hottest men she’s ever seen.
Sparks fly, and while Leda’s got a few ground rules that Thorin is more than willing to abide by, neither one of them expected their fling to turn into anything more serious, or that they would be faced with a situation neither one is prepared for. So, what happens when a no-strings-attached affair teeters on becoming the real thing…
Summary: Thorin reassures Leda she’s got nothing to worry about and on Super Bowl Sunday, Leda’s mother calls.
Pairings: Pairing: Modern!Thorin x OC Female
Characters:Thorin, Leda, Frerin, Zana. Jimmy, various other pub patrons, Leda’s mother
“You’re quiet, memsel,” Thorin said, easing the Mustang’s transmission into neutral at the garage doors. “What’s on your mind?”
She sighed, looking over at him. “I’m still feeling kind of… R2D2ish.”
“Leda…”
“I know, I know. I sound so fucking needy, but you did ask.”
He tugged the keys from the ignition and pushed open his door, climbing out of the car without a word. She sat there for a moment, just staring at the white garage doors with their somewhat peeling paint. Christ, she hated feeling this way. Normally, she didn’t care how she stacked up against other women. Part of the freedom of loving who you were with meant it didn’t matter how you stacked up because there was always another guy in another room.
But she didn’t want any other guys now. The one she wanted was the same one a hell of a lot of other women wanted as well. And while she knew Thorin wasn’t about to cheat on her, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be put off by the way her body was changing now.
Why do I do this to myself?
With a low sigh, she opened her door and climbed out. He’d gone inside, annoyed at her, no doubt, and it was tough to blame him. She was annoyed at herself. Annoyed enough for both of them, actually.
Conan let out a woof and bolted past her. Thorin stood just inside the kitchen door, holding it for her. He didn’t say a word as she brushed by him, but just waited for Conan to do his thing, while she went through the parlor and up the stairs. She was tired. Her back hurt. Her legs hurt. She just wanted to lie down. To crawl into bed and pull the covers over her head.
Inside the bedroom, she kicked off her shoes and whisked her tee shirt over her head and as she did, the floor creaked softly behind her. Although she knew it was Thorin, she still jumped when he came up behind her and slid his arms about her waist to pull her against him. Her eyes closed as he swept a gentle kiss along the curve of her neck, up to her ear.
“You should only know what I see when I look at you,” he whispered, sliding a hand up to cup her left breast gently. “And it doesn’t matter where we are, mesmel. You could be here, like this, or standing behind the bar, chatting with Jimmy. I look at you, and you fucking blow me away. Do you know that?”
“Thorin—”
“Shhh….” He turned her toward him and caught her face with both hands. “Just listen, okay? You’re beautiful, Leda. I’ve thought so since the moment you pulled off your helmet and I realized you were a woman and not just a tiny guy.”
He slid his hands down along her neck, skimmed them across her shoulders, hooking her bra straps with both thumbs to slip over them. The fabric skimmed along her in a light caress that set her head to slowly spinning as he slid a hand around her to pop the clasp on her bra. It fell away, and his smile made the butterflies in her stomach reappear, flapping their wings with enough force to send a shiver rippling through her. His eyes glittered in the faint glow of the nightlight, and a smile played at his lips.
“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, mimûna. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever been with. Now even more so. Do you have anyidea what seeing you like this does to me?”
As he spoke, he traced a fingertip about her left nipple, his eyes never leaving hers even as that nipple beaded beneath his touch and her eyes grew heavy-lidded. As it sent a new rush of flutters through her, each one stronger and tinglier than the last. He smiled, releasing her breast to sweep those fingers along her stomach. She held her breath as he brushed along the curve, then crouched before her.
“I love this bump. And I know you think you’re getting fat, but let me tell you something,” he murmured, pressing a kiss just below her navel, his hands curved on either side. He caught the waist of her leggings to slip them down, to let them puddle about her ankles, and when he looked up to meet her gaze, his eyes were soft and tender. “I am in awe of what you’re doing, Leda. Mahal, there’s a child in you. We did this utterly amazing thing and here’s the proof.”
His words washed over her, the amazement in his voice almost visible and she pressed her lips together as they trembled. To hear him phrase it that way… it wasn’t anything she ever expected. She caught his face between her palms, let her thumbs just graze along his cheeks. “We didn’t mean to—”
“I don’t care.” He shook his head. “I don’t, Leda. It doesn’t matter if we set out to do this or not. We did it. And to watch this, to see this as it plays out… You just can’t possibly know what it feels like to me to see this amazing thing you’re doing. And do you have any idea how much I love you, Leda? Any idea at all?”
“Because of this?”
“Yes and no. I mean, I was already falling in love with you. I’ve told you that. But if you think I would trade this for a roomful of Jäger shot girls, you’re crazy. You’ve ruined me for all women, Leda. And I don’t care how how much weight you gain with this baby, and I don’t care if you never lose it. You will always be the hot girl who pulled off Route Seven to help me get my Ford POS back on the road. You will alwaysbe the hot girl I leaned into and kissed after getting my ass handed to me at shooting pool, and you will alwaysbe that same hot girl who felt the need to apologize because her bra and panties didn’t match the first time I pulled her clothes off, and you will always be her, Leda. Always. And those shot girls don’t even come close to touching you, amrâlimê.Not even close.”
He slowly stood and she bit down on her bottom lip as he caught her by the wrist and guided her hand to him, to the erection he already sported. “Thisis what you do to me, Leda. I can’t fake that. I can’t make it happen at will. You know that.”
“I’m also standing here topless. In my underwear.”
“And you look really fucking good, baby.” He hooked a thumb in the lace of her thong and tugged, smiling as the garment slipped down over her thigh.
Her heart skipped a beat as he sank to his knees before her, dragging her thong down to her ankles. He caught one foot gently and lifted, easing the lace from around it, then did the same with the other. Then, he leaned back, pressing a kiss into the fluff of dark blond hair between her thighs. He nuzzled that fluff. Then, with just the tip of his tongue, delved into it to slowly caress down and around her clit.
“Thorin…” His name was an airy mist on her lips, her hands sliding down into his hair as he leisurely swirled about her clit, teasing her slowly, deliciously. Each caress rippled through her, sent sparks of sweet pleasure swirling through her. His hands slid up along the backs of her thighs, his fingers gently pressing into her with each teasing flick.
Her hips did a slow roll toward him, each pass melting her core just a bit more. Hot and sweet, the sensations rippling through her made her shiver, made her tremble against him as little by little, the delectable pleasure built. He took his time, in no hurry at all as he stroked her so perfectly, brought her to slowly to the edge of madness, that as each knot tightened, she moaned a little louder, twisted her fingers a little tighter in his hair. The slow melt burned thorough her, turned her knees to jelly and her blood to smoke. His tongue was slick and hot, rough and gentle, to send fire licking right long with him. He moved along her clit, over it, down to her opening and back, each caress hotter than the last, each one moving her closer to the edge. With every moan, every slow arc toward him, he responded in kind, pleasure spinning through her, sparkling and dancing like a live wire to make her quiver around him.
Everything inside her clenched as he moved faster now. Faster. Harder. The knots grew even as they tightened inside her, fire hot and sweet as it blazed through her core. He licked harder still, and slid a finger inside her, crooking it to just touch that one sweet spot where she ached the most.
“Ooh…” Leda couldn’t hold back her moan, her fingers twisting harder in his hair. It all felt far too good to keep quiet, to not let him know just what he did to her. And oh, lord, what he did just felt so fucking amazing.
He shattered her, bursts of starlight erupting before her eyes as she crested the peak, as the wave crashed over here, as she came in a fiery flash of desire and need, pulsing and clenching about him, coming and squirting at the same time, the sensations spicy hot and sinfully sweet at the same time as he continued tormenting her with his skilled tongue and gifted fingers. She rocked to meet him, desperate to draw out every last drop of pleasure he could give her.
She shuddered and moaned, fighting to get away as the sensations overwhelmed her, but he wouldn’t release her. He continued his onslaught until she erupted once more and almost screamed, “Thorin!” as her knees buckled and she collapsed against him, almost sobbing from how good it all felt.
“I love you,” he growled, rising once more. He bent to her, seizing her lips with his in a kiss so furious, so hot and demanding, she wouldn’t have been at all surprised to see smoke billow between them.
She wrapped her arms about his neck, caressing his tongue with hers, drawing his back into her mouth to tease as his hands fell away from her. His belt buckle rattled as he yanked it free, as he yanked open his his jeans and tugged out his cock.
He snaked one arm about her, lifted her easily, pinned her between him and the wall as he guided himself inside her and slid deep, his first thrust hard and powerful. She wrapped her legs about his waist with that first thrust. His lips found hers, devoured hers, damp with her essence and sweet with her taste and she savored it as much as she did the taste of him. She throbbed all around him, on the verge of another orgasm without any warning. It robbed her of her senses, of her ability to speak or see, to do anything other than to feel.
“Thorin…” His name was a husky cry as he surged hard and fast, his entire body shuddering with each thrust. Her thighs tightened against him, her walls gripped his cock, squeezing and pulsing in time with his quickening thrusts.
He arched hard against her, lifted and lowered her against him as he did, growling, “Oh, baby… thisis what you do to me… Oh, holy fuck.. Leda!”
He thrust hard, buried himself as deep inside her as he could, and crushed her against him with a low, satisfied moan as his body emptied into hers. He shuddered against her. Rocked her against him. And when he finished, he cradled her as he staggered back and sank into the armchair in the corner, his arms tight about her, her name a breathless whisper on his lips.
She fought to breathe as she collapsed against his chest, smiling as he wrapped his arms about her and just held her until his heartbeat slowed and she went still against him. “Thorin… oh… oh, my god…”
“Yeah.That’swhat you do to me, mesmel. Holy, shit… you turn me inside out, beautiful girl and trust me, you have nothing to worry about.”
She sat back, chuckling as he actually whimpered. “You didn’t even take your jeans off.”
A sleepy smile lifted his lips. “I was too close and all I cared about was being inside you. Mahal, you have absolutely ruined me. I hope you know that. No other woman could ever do what you do to me. Not ever.”
“If you expect me to apologize…”
He let out a soft laugh. “No. I expect you to tell me the same.”
“You have ruined me, Thorin.” She curved her hand against his cheek. “I thought you knew that.”
He offered up a sleep smile. “It’s still nice to hear on occasion.”
“I love you,” she murmured.
“I love you, too, Leda.” He opened his eyes and offered up a tender gaze. “And if those shot girls really bother you, I’ll cancel for tomorrow.”
She sighed softly, tracing a circle into the black cotton stretched taut across his chest. “How much revenue did they bring?”
“Believe it or not, we did about ten percent higher sales than any Saturday in the last six months and fifteen percent over what we did this time last year.”
“Then I’ll suck it up. They’re good for your business.”
“My business. Ourfuture. I’ll be able to support you and a couple of kids if we keep going this way. And I’ll be able to do it easily.”
“A couple of kids?” She smiled, her hand curving about her stomach. It found its way there on its own more and more these days.
“Yeah. Two. Maybe three. We’ve got the room. Pub’s doing well. You can stay home if you want, or we can afford daycare, whichever.”
“Oh, damn… I hadn’t even given any thought to that.”
He smiled, shifting just enough to slip from her. She bit back a wince at the trickle of spend accompanying his withdrawal, and with a soft grunt, he rocked forward and stood, then moved to set her on the bed. “It’s up to you, Leda,” he called over his shoulder as he retrieved a towel from the linen cupboard in the hallway and brought it back to offer to her. “If you want to stay home, I’m cool with it. If you want to go back to work, still cool with it.”
She sighed as she dabbed at her inner thigh. “I haven’t really thought about it.”
He whisked his tee shirt over his head, and the sight of him, in just the undone jeans, was enough to make her sigh. Damn, he looked amazing in Levi’s. It was almost criminal, how handsome he was.
Balling up the tee shirt, he fired it toward the laundry basket by his dresser, then tugged off his jeans as well. “It’s up to you, mesmel,” he said, stretching out alongside her. He turned toward her, his cheek pressed into his folded hands, and let out a low whistle. “Damn… you look good like this.”
She smiled. “Wiping jizz off my legs?”
A low chuckle rolled toward her, followed by his murmured, “Naked.”
He lifted his head and stretched to brush her lips with his. He shifted further still, and she couldn’t help her laugh as he pinned her on her back, and moved to cover her completely. “Mahal, you’re beautiful,” he murmured, dipping to nuzzle her.
Her eyes closed, the damp towel forgotten as he brushed a sensitive spot just below her ear with a kiss. She felt silly for getting so upset earlier. She knew how he felt about her, and now, as his beard scraped so gently against her neck, against cheek, she shivered and whispered, “Do you have any idea how much I love you?”
For the first time in her life, she said the words without fear. For the first time in her life, she said them because she felt them. And they still weren’t enough to convey what she actually felt for him. Not by half.
His lips swept lightly over her ear, his, “Tell me,” a playful whisper.
The gentle touch and even gentler whisper sent a shiver through her, her eyes closing as he left a teasing trail of equally soft kisses down along her neck. Her thoughts muddied with each caress, her ability to concentrate on anything other than the sweet tingles he brought to life almost impossible. She sighed, her head lolling to the right as he moved into the curve of her shoulder, then lifted his head to offer up a smile. “Leda?”
“Oh, you make thinking difficult, you know that?” She curved her hand against his cheek. “And I couldn’t possibly begin to describe it, Thorin. I just… you are the only person I ever want to have sleepovers with.”
His laugh came as a warm caressed, followed by a light kiss, then he lifted his head and gazed down as he said, “Same.”
He bent back to her, brushing his lips along the inner curve of her left breast, down over her stomach, where he paused. She traced her fingers along the waves of his hair as he swept a light kiss across the curve and she couldn’t hold back her smile when he murmured, “I cannot wait to meet you, you know. And…”
With that, he lapsed into khuzdul, whispering words she could only barely hear, and didn’t understand, his lips just brushing her skin with each one. It was a sight to see, and as she stroked his hair, she murmured, “If only those shot girls could see you now, sharing secrets with your unborn baby. Their ovaries would explode on sight.”
“I want Junior to know the sound of my voice,” he said, lifting his head to smile at her.
“He will.” She tucked a long curl behind his left ear. “He absolutely will.”
The bed squeaked softly as he came back up to stretch out beside her. He took the discarded towel to fire into the laundry basked, then settled back, easing an arm about her. “Do you feel better now?”
“About the shot girls?”
“About the shot girls.”
“More or less, yes.”
“Good.” He shifted to nuzzle her, and added, “Maybe tomorrow night I can finally get you up on that pool table?”
“Thorin!”
“What? You have no idea how badly I wanted to fuck you on it that first night.”
“Trust me. I know exactlyhow badly. You really can’t hide it, you know.” She smiled up at him. “And you can’t fake it. It gives you away every time.”
“I notice you haven’t said no.”
“We’ll see.”
“We’ll see. It’s not a no, so I can live with we’ll see.” He shifted back onto his side, cradling her against his chest. “We really should get some sleep.”
****
Sundays were generally quiet at the Dunraven, but Super Bowl Sunday was another matter entirely. By one o’clock, there wasn’t an empty table in the building, even though kickoff wasn’t until after six.
The Jägermeister girls didn’t bother Leda at all, not even when Miss Perfect Brunette shot her look. Threesome. Fuck her. She wasn’t sharing Thorin with anyone. Not that it seemed to matter, as Miss Perfect Brunette seemed to be just as annoyed with Thorin, which was funny to watch because she had to be careful what she said or did around him.
Thorin came out of his office and back behind the bar. “I’ve got two possibles coming in to interview for Lacey’s job, Zane. You want to sit in with me?”
“Me?” Zana glanced over at her. “Why not Leda?”
“She’s only been here a few months, you’ve been here eight years.”
Leda smiled as Zana’s expression grew slightly pained. “It’s okay, Zana. He and I talked about it this morning. I don’t want this responsibility, so it’s all you if you do.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to step on any toes.”
“You’re not.”
“If you’re really sure…”
“Zana, I am. Really.” Leda’s cell rang, so she dug it out her pocket and when she turned it over and saw the name and contact picture, she froze.
“You okay, mesmel?” Thorin asked, his brows pulled low.
She nodded, kicking the call to voicemail. “I’m fine.”
“Who was it?”
“Just… spam…” Leda shoved her phone back into the pocket of her leggings and move down to the far end of the bar, where Jimmy had been displaced from his usual stool. “Whoa… I didn’t recognize you down here.”
Jimmy glowered at the kid who’d commandeered his usual spot. “He’s in it. Card his ass.”
“I will. He looks like he’s about twelve. Can I get you your usual?”
“Naw… I’m moving uptown, Miss Leda. New barstool, new James.”
“Oh, so it’s James now?”
Jimmy nodded. “Yeah. You still wasting your time with Durin? Or do you want to give James a chance?”
“Oh, love, I’m still having his baby and I’m still pretty crazy about him as well, so…”
“Damn. Well, can’t blame a fella for trying. Can I get a Shock Top?”
“Whoa, James, a Shock Top? You feel okay?”
He grinned. “I’m sick of the same thing every day.”
“You got it.” She snatched up a pint glass and held it under the Shock Top spout. “Are you interested in anything to eat? Special Super Bowl menu today.”
“Can I see a menu?”
“You know you can.” Her phone buzzed in her pocket, but she ignored it as she retrieved a menu for Jimmy. “I suggest the sausage and peppers. Dori’s outdone himself today, judging by how good it smells.”
“And everything makes you sick right now, doesn’t it?”
“Just about, yeah.”
“That speaks volumes about those sausage and peppers. Sold.” He smiled as she set the beer in front of him. “Start a tab for me?”
“You got it.”
Her pocket buzzed again and this time, Thorin was behind her when it did. “Aren’t you going to answer it?”
“Nope. There’s no one I want to talk to who isn’t right here.” She smiled at him over her shoulder.
But he didn’t smile back. Leaning against the shelves holding the liquor bottles, he folded his arms over his chest. “Who was it who called before and why don’t you want to tell me?”
“It’s nobody, Thorin, that’s who.”
“Leda.”
“Really. It’s nothing.”
His stare never wavered and although she tried to ignore it as she turned back to the customers, she’d swear she felt his eyes boring straight into her back. Her phone buzzed a third time, and then her voicemail chime went off, and still, she ignored it as she put Jimmy’s order into the POS system.
“Leda,” his voice was low and serious, “a word in my office?”
“Not now, Thorin,” she said without turning around, “we’re getting slammed.”
“Amy can take them.” His hand came to rest at the small of her back as Amy came back behind the bar. “If you don’t mind.”
She shot him a look over her shoulder. “Don’t you dare pull rank on me.”
“I’m absolutely pulling rank.” He looked over at Amy. “We’ll be right back. Yell if it gets reallycrazy.”
Amy nodded. “Everything okay?”
“It’s fine.” Thorin gave Leda a gentle nudge.
She moved, gritting her teeth as she walked around the bar and down to Thorin’s office, where she sank onto the sofa while he closed the door. “What’s going on, Leda?”
“Nothing is going on.”
He leaned against the edge of his desk. “Who are you avoiding and why?”
“Thorin—”
“Who is it? You went white when you looked at your phone screen the first time it rang. Why?”
She sighed, sinking against into the sofa’s stiff back. How on earth did she and Thorin have sex on it, when it was so damn uncomfortable? And why did thatthought pop into her head?
“Leda,” the vinyl crackled as he sank beside her, “what’s going on?”
“Nothing.” She leaned her head back, turning to look at him. “It was my mother.”
“What?”
She nodded. “Yeah. I don’t know what she wants and it’s been at least two years since I last talked to her. So…. I panicked and sent it to voicemail.”
“Did you listen to the voicemail?”
“No.” She shifted to tug her phone from the pocket and let it just sit in her lap. “I don’t want to.”
“You want me to listen for you?”
“I—I don’t know.”
He reached over to take the phone from her thigh and toggled to her voicemail. With a soft sigh, she leaned her head against his shoulder as he hit play.
“Leda, it’s Ma. It’s been a while and I was just thinking about you. I hope everything is good with you. Give me a call back if you feel like it. My number hasn’t changed.”
Thorin looked over at her. “That’s not so bad.”
“No. But she’s not one hundred percent dick, either.” She traced her forefinger along the length of his thigh, over the slight bulge of his quadriceps muscle, along the solid rise of it along his outer thigh. That muscle was solid, no give beneath her fingertip, and when she traced down into his inner thigh, a smile came to her lips at his soft groan.
“Careful,” he told her, his hand coming to rest atop hers to still it, “you give me a boner and I’ll expect you to do something about it.”
“You’re almost forty years old, Mr. Durin,” she told him with a grin, “surely you have more control over your body than that.”
“Ordinarily, I would, but with you? Not so easy.” He winked. “Do you want to call her?”
“I don’t know. Do you think I should?”
He shifted, draping his arm about her shoulders, and tugged her again him. “I can’t answer that, mesmel. I don’t know her. And what I doknow of her makes me want to choke her, so I’m probably not the best person to ask. What does your gut tell you?”
She closed her eyes as his fingertips brushed along her upper arm. “I think I should at least tell her she’s going to be a grandmother.”
“Do you want to call her now?”
She turned the phone over to stare at her home screen, which was a picture she’d taken Christmas morning of him and Conan stretched out on the sofa, watching A Christmas Story, and was one of her favorites. “I don’t know.”
“I’ll go back up front and cover for you. Take all the time you need.” He pressed a kiss into the top of her head, then pushed up from the sofa.
“Thorin?”
He paused in the doorway. “Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
“Of course.”
She smiled. “Thorin?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
He winked and softly closed the door. The silence settled around her, thick and heavy. She stared down at the screen, tracing over Conan’s left ear as she debated whether or not to call her mother back.
Then, she drew in a deep breath and picked up the phone to toggle to her mother’s contact information, and hit call.
“Leda.”
“Hi, Ma. I saw you called.” Leda tried to concentrate less on the roar of her pulse in her ears and more on what she actually wanted to tell her mother. It had been so long since they last spoke, and it ended in an argument, so she wanted to tread carefully. Trouble was, treading carefully was never her strong suit.
“It’s been while. What’s going on with you?”
Leda glanced over at Thorin’s desk, at the black leather racket draped over the back of his chair. She pushed up from the sofa and moved to sink into his chair. “I’m good. I’m in North Jersey now, in this cute little town. And I—uh—I met someone.”
“So what else is new?”
Leda leaned back in the chair, smiling as the scents of sandalwood and eucalyptus teased her nose. “No, this is different, Ma. I’m living with him. And—”
“Does he have a name?”
“Well, yeah. Of course. His name’s Thorin. And he owns a pub and—”
“Another boss, Leda?”
She gritted her teeth at the smirk in her mother’s voice. “I just told you it was different, didn’t I?”
“The only difference I hear so far is that when he’s done with you, you’ll be out of a job and a place to live. Two birds, one stone.”
Her mother’s words brought a tightness to Leda’s chest, one she tried to ignore as she cleared her throat and tried again. “You’re wrong, you know. This is the real deal.”
“The real deal. I’ve heard this before, Leda. And—”
“We’re having a baby, Ma,” Leda broke in softly. “In July.”
Silence. The roar in her temples grew louder and for a moment, Leda thought maybe her call had gotten dropped. “Are you still there?”
“I’ll be damned,” her mother said softly. “You finally got knocked up. I thought it would have happened a lot sooner than this.”
“That’s what you have to say? That’s it?”
“What else shouldI say? You finally managed to trap a guy. Good for you. But, are you sure it’s his? Is he sure it’s his?”
Her throat tightened and tears stung her eyes. “I thought you might be happy, actually. And I didn’t trapanyone. He’s asked me to marry him, and—”
The door opened and from the corner of her eye, she saw Thorin standing in the doorway. She swallowed hard as her mother then said, “I’ll believe that when I see the actual invitation.”
She looked over at Thorin and shook her head. “Well, I won’t keep you, then. I just thought you should know.”
A low sigh and then her mother said, “I appreciate it, Leda. Take care of yourself.”
With that, her mother clicked off and Leda didn’t know why she expected anything different. She tossed the phone onto Thorin’s desk and with a low sigh, buried her face in her hands.
The floor squeaked as he came over. “You okay?”
“I’m fine. I don’t know why I thought this conversation would go any other way.” She pushed up from his chair. “It’s probably crazy out there, so—”
He caught her, wrapping her in his arms to pull her against his chest. “I’m sorry, mimûna.”
“Why do I try?” she murmured, letting her head come to rest against his chest. His heart beat softly beneath her ear, beneath the black long-sleeved tee shirt he wore, and it was the most comforting sound in the world at that moment. “Why did I think she might actually give a fuck this time?”
“I don’t know. But, you tried. I know you, Leda, if you hadn’t, you’d be wondering what if forever. Now you know.”
“Yeah.” She rested her chin against his chest and looked up at him. “I know.”
His eyes were soft, his arms tightening about her. “Even if it sucks, it’s better to know than to wonder.”
“I know, but… damn, it really does suck.”
“Yeah. It does.” He bent to brush her lips with his, then held her a few minutes more before breaking the comfortable silence with, “I hate to play boss man with you, mesmel, but it really is getting crazy out there.”
“I know.” She pulled out of his arms and with a soft sigh, let him steer her back out behind the bar. They were three deep and Leda was grateful for the crowds to help take her mind off the things she couldn’t change no matter how hard she tried. She hated the fact that after all these years, and after all the things her mother had said and done, her mother still had the power to hurt her so badly. Leda hated it, hated the fact that she could still be so hurt by this woman. It made no sense, how she could insulate herself from just about anyone else on earth, but somehow, her mother alway found the chink in her armor, always found the crack in the foundation, and was able to worm her way through it and straight into Leda’s soul to make her doubt everything all over again.
Well,almosteverything. She gazed over at Thorin, laughing at something with Jimmy, and smiled. There were some things she didn’t doubt in the least.
Thorin Durin and how he felt about her topped that list.
TATTOO AU PUNK SLUT ARTIST LUCIUSSS! city boyyyy I love youuuuu aaaaaa
ID under cut bc I describe every single tattoo oh no
[ID: 1. full body of modern lucius as a punk tattoo artist standing with thumbs in his pockets, grinning off to the side. He is wearing a blank tank top that says “if you seek Amy” under a long sleeve mesh top, studded leather collar with a gold charm imitating his canon kerchief, a studded belt, and long black smash mouth shorts with silver hoops down the sides. He has a leather cuff, black rubber bracelets, and several rings on his right hand and a modern prosthetic finger with glove on his left. He has medium sized gauges, two studs in his left cartilage, two hoops in his right, a stud in his left nostril, and two cheek piercings. His tattoos include: a Celtic knot ring and teardrop on his right ring finger, safe for work Sasuke on his right forearm, an Allen Ginsberg quote “The weight of the world is love. /Under the burden of solitude, /under the burden of dissatisfaction /the weight, the weight we carry /is love” on his inner right arm, a heart containing a hairy man’s ass in a jockstrap on his right shoulder, Roman numerals 13.3.14 (date of same sex marriage legalization in the UK) on his right collarbone, part of an arrow sticking up from his left pec surrounded by a few blood drops disappears under his shirt, the name Pete surrounded by hearts on his left shoulder, 3 black rings around his left bicep, and a pride flag down his inner left forearm, the colors dissolving together like light on water as it goes down his wrist. Text next to him points to his back and says “has an ‘abandon hope all ye who enter here’ tramp stamp.” His nails, including the top of his prosthetic, are painted black. 2a. Close up of Lucius with one hand dramatically poised on his cheek, holding up his left hand with the prosthetic to stare at it in a fakey “woe-is-me” way. He tearfully says, “I was an artist…until a client bit my finger off.” 2b. Zoom out, Lucius is making a cutesy cat grin and wiggles both hands in the air, saying, “jk I’m ambidextrous.” Fang, dressed in a floral short-sleeved collared shirt, pink polka dot headband, and green apron with the logo for Queen Anne’s flowershop, smiles at him indulgently and replies “that’s what’s up bro, love who you love!” A tattoo on his bicep says “I heart Tulips”. /end ID]
My fav thing about the classic flowershop / tattoo parlor au is assigning the objectively wrong roles for no reason other than my own enjoyment. ID under cut!
[ID: 1. Full body of a modern flowershop / tattoo parlor au with Stede and Ed. They are standing together in the wall space between their shops, meeting for the first time. Stede’s shop on the left says “tattoo” in large red letters on the window as well as a sign with their hours. Inside there is a small piercing display. Ed’s shop on the right has “flowers” in blue lettering on the window as well as the beginnings of a phone number with area code 246. Inside there is a tiered display of various types of flowers including sunflowers, roses, lilies, and carnations. Stede has three studs in his ear and snake bite hoops in his lip and is wearing a dark gray blouse with frilly sleeves, a purple waistcoat with silver detailings, a silver pocket square, a cravat pinned with a large purple jewel, and black trousers. He has several rings on each hand and black nails and is holding a cardboard box labeled “gauges.” He turns with pleasant surprise to look at Ed, smiles, and says “Oh!! Hello!” Ed, on a smoke break, just stares at him with pink-cheeked surprise in response. He has his long hair up in a bun and is wearing blue jeans and a pink tee shirt over a pale green apron with “Queen Anne’s” stitched on the breast. In his left hand is a lit cigarette, and the right is in his apron pocket fumbling with a red cloth. All his usual tattoos (save for the eagle on his chest and the marae on his wrist) are now floral designs, including a long leafy vine winding down his right arm, several pink carnations and falling petals, palm leaves on his left bicep, and a patch of sunflowers on his left shoulder and neck.
2. A new day, Stede now in a blue waistcoat with embroidered fleur-de-lis and light blue blouse and cravat and Ed with his hair half up in a bun, wearing a red tee shirt, apron, and brown gardening gloves. Stede is leaning toward him looking excited, declaring, “Lilac?? I would love to design that for you!” Ed, leaning back and looking flustered as he blushes and avoids eye contact, flexes his hands at his side and laughs nervously. “Uh, haha, really? Idk if my artist would like that.” To the side, we see a small drawing of a sullen Izzy with large gauges and a vee neck shirt, holding a buzzing tattoo pen. Text next to him in parentheses reads “current artist.”
3a. The same day; Ed sitting on a tattoo chair with his left arm extended while Stede, wearing nitrile gloves, doodles a lilac branch onto the blank spot on his forearm with a tattoo pen. Ed, staring at Stede shyly but warmly from the corner of his eye, offers a small smile and says, “You’re always so covered up, I’ve never even seen any of your tattoos.” Stede, smiling absently as he works on Ed’s tattoo, responds, “Oh! I don’t have any.”
3b. Ed whips his head toward Stede in shock, forgetting his shy attempt at flirting in favor of gaping openly at him. Stede, none the wiser, continues to draw and hum to himself.
3c. Close up of Ed’s face from the previous panel zoomed in, hearts popping up in his eyes and cheeks going a dark red. Text next to him reads “you are so fucking fascinating”
