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midgardianweasley · 3 years

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Build-a-bear adventures

Build-a-bear adventures.

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: A top trained assassin, her girlfriend, and a build-a-bear workshop, what better way to spend a day off.

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: Agonisingly fluffy.

I was planning on posting angst, but, decided on a fluff instead<33

“But babe. Babe. Babe.” You poked your girlfriend, fully aware that with every prod, you were only contributing to the headache worthy eye rolls she had been giving you for the past hour. You were joking, of course you were, she knew that, but she also knew that it was possible you were about to be single in 0.2 of a second if you didn’t stop poking her.

With a sarcastic smile and a deep breath, she turned her head towards you, momentarily stopping your movements as you returned a sickeningly sweet smile back.

“Yes?”

“I don’t think you understand.”

“I do understand.”

“This is life or death.” You spoke with a poker face, a weak attempt to try and make your point valid.

“I think that may be exaggerating just a little bit honey.” She chuckled lightly at your tone and the way you moved in your spot on the sofa, now having your legs crossed in front of you, hands enthusiastically moving in front of you.

“No. No, see, you don’t understand! We need to do this!”

“Is my unconditional love not enough?”

“No.”

“Ouch.” She dramatically placed her hand on her chest, a smirk plastered onto her face as she watched you rile yourself up with every sentence.

“Okay, sorry, I didn’t mean that, your unconditional love is more than enough, and while I unconditionally love you too, that doesn’t change the fact that this is a necessity.”

“Like the ones from the jungle book?”

You groaned loudly, throwing your head back as the assassin teased you.

“Baby, please!” You moved once again, now clambering onto her lap with your hands interlocked behind her neck, your faces mere inches away from hers. Her hands immediately went to your waist to steady you, pure energy coursed through your veins as you tried to convince Natasha to go ahead with your idea and she wasn’t certain you wouldn’t fall off of you if she didn’t hold you down.

“You seriously want to?”

“Yes.”

“Today?”

“Yes.”

“Instead of cuddling in bed with movies?” Her eyebrows raised in question, not faltering as she watched you pretend to ponder, stroking an imaginary beard on your chin.

“Yes.” You smiled, your inner child shining through.

Knowing she wasn’t going to win, she sighed gently, running a hand through your hair and giving you a quick kiss on your temple before tapping your thighs to signal for you to stand up.

“Alright. Get ready and we’ll go.”

“Really?” You squealed, clapping your hands together as you rocked back and forth on your heels.

“Really. Now hurry and get your shoes on, we don’t want to get stuck in traffic.”

She watched with nothing but adoration as you whizzed off to get ready to leave, swearing that she’s never seen you move so quickly in her life. Despite her playful protest, she walked over to the kitchen counter to pick up her car keys, swinging them around her pointer finger as she walked over to the doorway of the compound living room.

‘I can’t believe I'm doing this.’ She thought.

Although she’ll deny it to anyone that asks, she’s absolutely whipped for you.

“I’m ready!” Your voice called out, encouraging Natasha to shrug her leather jacket on and walk towards her smiling girlfriend, taking her hand as they walked out together with content smiles on their faces.

‘Let’s do this.’

_______________________

It didn’t take long to arrive at your destination, your eyes immediately drew themselves to the store windows filled with stuffed bears in a variety of different outfits, some bears were dressed up to fit a theme, some bears were characters from loved movies, some were just bears in dungarees.

That’s right. You’ve managed to bring a trained assassin to a build-a-bear workshop. Why?

To get matching bears.

You looked towards Natasha, a huge grin on your face, only faltering slightly as you were met with her hands and forehead on the drivers wheel. You tugged on her sleeve, ignoring her disagreement, her head not leaving the wheel, but turned to face you.

“Stop being silly, c’mon, you’re looking forward to it! I know you are!”

“Babe. We’re parked outside of a teddy store.”

“Exactly! It’s fun, you’re excited, I'm excited, let’s go!”

You didn’t hesitate to open your car door, jumping out of the car and shutting the door behind you, the redhead not far behind you as she once again took your hand, reminding you how lucky you are that she loves you. Your response was a simple kiss on her cheek, a small blush following shortly afterwards.

“You’re cute.” You pinched her cheek.

“Yeah yeah, let’s go get our bears.”

_______________________

“So, that’s both of your bears stuffed, do you guys want to put voice boxes in them?” The kind staff member asked the pair of you.

You glanced towards Natasha, silently asking if she’d like one or not. She gave you a brief smile before looking back at the woman helping you with your bears.

“Sure, I don’t see why not.” She winked at you before following the woman over to another station within the store. There were rows and rows of different shapes and coloured voice boxes to choose from.

You had the option of choosing a pre-recorded sound, like animal sounds or a bunch of different ‘i love you.’ in different voices. You didn’t mind what voice you had, honestly, you would’ve been content with an ‘i love you’ from Elsa at this point. However, you saw your girlfriend make a beeline for the ones that you record your own message into.

“You’re gonna do your own one?” You asked, moving over to stand beside her.

“Nope. I’m making one for yours.” She said proudly, holding two of the small items in her hand, holding it out for you to take one. You couldn’t help but feel your heartbeat quicken at her words. This is the sweetest thing you’ve ever done with someone else, and to think she wasn’t even that eager to come in the first place. You knew she’d have fun.

Taking the small blue speaker from her hand, you were instructed to press the button on the back of the plastic, hold it down to speak, and release it when you were finished, but it can only be a short message. The both of you tucked your bears under your arm, bringing the box to your mouth and cupping it so that it would come out loud and clear, and so the other couldn’t hear what you were saying.

Once your messages were done, you handed each other the speaker to place in the paw that had a ‘press me’ sign sewed into it. The woman ensured it was inserted correctly before taking them elsewhere to be sewn up, leaving you both to look at the racks of tiny clothes hung on the wall.

It was almost as difficult as choosing clothes for yourself, there were too many options, and every single one was adorable. How did literal children do this?

“Please tell me you can’t decide on an outfit either.” The Russian spoke from beside you, her gaze focused on the fabrics, styles and patterns in front of you.

“It’s easier trying to take a pop tart off of the demi-god at home than trying to pick a pair of jeans and a t-shirt for a stuffed animal. What the hell?” Your arms gestured to the wall in front of you, exasperated as you tried to decide whether you wanted the blue jeans or black.”

“Hi guys, here are your bears, just letting you know, there’s also some dresses over there if you want to check them out.” The woman smiled, watching as you and Natasha shared a glance of horror.

The two of you were gonna be here for a while.

______________________

Finally, you and Nat had dressed both your bears. You chose a pair of black jeans, a white t-shirt and a black leather jacket for yours, and Natasha had chosen a Y/F/O. It appeared as though each of you had made ‘mini me’s’ of the other, and they seemed pretty damn accurate too.

After successfully creating and dressing your bears, it was time to name them, pay, and then you could both go home and relax. You had no idea building a bear could be so exhausting.

Both you and Natasha had to pick a name. You thought it over, whereas Nat had just rushed right in, choosing to call her bear ‘honey.’, the nickname she always reserved for you. Gripping your bear tightly, you observed the birth certificate being printed out, the name, the owner’s name and the date clearly written in bold, black letters. You could’ve sworn you saw Natasha’s eyes light up when she was handed the sheet of paper.

“What about you, miss?” The woman asked, ready to type in whatever name you gave her. Glancing behind you quickly, you caught the eye of your girlfriend behind you, immediately knowing what to call it.

“Snoopy, please.”

You heard one loud and short laugh erupt from Natasha’s lips, her hand shot to cover her mouth, not intending to be so disruptive when she heard what you had called it.

‘Snoopy’ is the name of a cartoon character, which was probably what people would think you named the bear after. In reality, it wasn’t that at all.

When you first met the team, you were informed of what everyone’s roles were and how they contributed to the group. There were supersoldiers, scientists, a god, all different kinds of people, including the incredibly attractive spy. When you went on your first mission, she had to hack into a computer to retrieve some stolen data, but took her time to also look at some other things they had on there too, just to kill time.

The first words you said to her on that mission that wasn’t to do with what direction you were running in, was ‘Alright, hold off Snoopy, you can do that in your spare time, hurry up.’, and at first she was annoyed with the nickname, claiming she wasn’t snooping, nor does she ever ‘snoop’, but she soon took it in her stride. It was still a running joke between the pair of you 2 years down the line, and you never let her forget it.

“Nice name, babe.” She coughed, unable to fully settle down from her laughing fit.

“Why, thank you! Yours isn’t so bad yourself.” You spoke as you blew her a kiss that she grabbed in thin air and pretended to shove into her jean pocket, earning a small shake of the head before you took your printed certificate and went to purchase the bears.

_______________________

Once you got back to the compound, the both of you were completely shattered, unable to keep your eyes open to watch some TV before bed. Eager to get some sleep, the two of you just ended up changing into your pyjamas, following your shared night routine before collapsing onto your bed.

You lay beside her, still able to smell her perfume after so many hours, the scent making your eyelids feel like rocks. Grabbing your bear, you put it in between you, Natasha doing the same thing, before snuggling up close together under the covers. She reached over to put some fallen hair behind your ear, smiling gently at you as she did so, the gesture lazily returned.

“Thank you for suggesting today, baby. I really enjoyed myself.” She whispered, a murmur of agreement following her words.

“Thank you for taking us Natty, I had fun.” You mumbled with closed eyes, sleep quickly taking over.

“Get some sleep, my love.”

You nodded once before responding. “G’night Nat.”

“Goodnight baby.”

And that was you, out like a light.

Natasha reached over to give you a kiss on the forehead as her final goodnight, not realised that she’d leant on the teddy in the process, only noticing when she heard your voice in a non sleepy state.

“I’m madly in love with you, Romanoff.” She heard you laugh, followed by an excited “I’m done!”, obviously you forgot to let go of the button after you recorded the initial message, but it had made it even more special. She couldn’t help but adore you with every bone in her body.

You weren’t awake now, but when you were, she hoped to see your reaction when you listened to her message in your bear, the words spoken in Russian, but you’d heard them before, so you’d definitely know what it meant.

“Moye serdtse tvoye, lyubov' moya.” (My heart is yours, my love.)

She was right.

She’s absolutely whipped.

Taglist: @natashas-favourite-knives @eilarch @natashaswifey @lostandsearching @wandaromanova @pottahishotasf @d14n4ol @xxromanoffxx

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systlinsideblog · 3 years

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PART 1

There have been many Ubaras in the history of Gor. Indeed, even today there are many, who rule this city or that land, sometimes alone and sometimes alongside mates. Our own beloved Ubara of Turia is well known as a fair and just lady, and a great patron of the sciences.

But forever when the words “The Great Ubara” are uttered, there will be no doubt as to who they refer to. She came from nowhere, and in her hands she brought power, and it was that very night that the beginning of the time of the Great Burning of the Whips commenced…

-Sansha, scholar of the Tower of Tyra, history division, 537 AGU (After the Great Ubara.) Excerpt from her work “The Great Ubara; the coming of Systlin, the Warrior, Lady of Swords, Lady of Burning Whips, and the ending of the slave culture of Gor.”

It hurt, the...whatever it had been. One moment, and she had been preparing herself to ride out to hunt wraithen with her Bloodguard, and then there had been the scent of rising Power, sharp as the air before lightning, and the world had gone dark.

When her senses returned, she had a splendid monster of a headache, and she could see nothing but tall bronzed grass. Her cheek was pressed against the ground, and every joint hurt.

She blinked, blearily, and the grass came into slightly sharper focus. She was lying prone in a field, that much was clear.

Systlin made an effort to push herself upright. Her arms trembled and gave out, and she got a mouthful of dirt and grass for her efforts.

"Pitting hells." She spat dust and tried again, this time managing to rise to her knees.

The grass rippled in the breeze, empty and endless. She spat more dirt and wiped her mouth on a sleeve.

Something was niggling at the back of her mind, sending little alarm bells up. Wrong Wrong Wrong Wrong!!!

"Of bloody course something's wrong." She muttered this to herself. "Bloody fuck am I?"

The grass whispered in the breeze, rippling like a sea. She did not know this plain.

She had walked and ridden through every land in the North, had ridden the southern deserts, had walked the walled gardens of Myr.

She did not know this plain.

Her hands dropped to her belt on instinct. The hilts of Ice and her dagger were comfortingly solid.

Something's wrong something's wrong.

She got to her feet. The motion was easier than it should have been. She paused, and bounced on her toes a few times, testing.

Systlin Stellas had spent the majority of her life training her body into a supremely tempered tool. She knew herself well. And she knew, immediately, that her weight was wrong. Wherever she was, the pull of gravity was less than what she had been accustomed to for the last fifty years.

"Pitting hells."

On the horizon, dust clouds were rising. She shaded her eyes to see, and could pick out dark moving figures, coming her way.

If Systlin had been in any doubt as to the wrongness of this place, the riders approaching her removed it. The riders were men, that was clear enough. But the creatures they were riding, while they resembled horses, very much were not.

If horses had paws and claws like great cats, eyes set forward in their head, and fangs like a wolf, then perhaps they would look like the creatures the men were riding.

I am going to flay whoever did this to me alive.

She held her ground as the riders approached. Their beasts had caught her scent; that was clear enough.

Perhaps fifteen feet from her, the men pulled their beasts up. They began to circle her, curious. Systlin tracked them, listening to the pad of those great paws in the grass.

Finally one of the men spoke, and Systlin blinked. Because the words he was saying...the words themselves meant nothing. Systlin had been well educated as a child; she spoke eastern and western Northron fluently, and even the dialect from the Skyfire Reaches. She spoke Rabi almost as well, the less formal clan dialect as well as the formal, stuffy Myran form. (Sura claimed she still had a Northron accent, even after all these years, but also claimed to be fond of the 'exotic' way it made her sound. Systlin, therefore, had never tried too hard to lose it.)

She spoke Siulekean passably well. All in all, Systlin could make herself understood no matter where on Ellinon she found herself.

And yet, these words were strange. And still, though they meant nothing to her ears, she felt a flicker of Power, and in the back of her mind she heard the words in her own native Northron.

"Wench!" The taller of the two men, riding a mount of a handsome bay, was looking her up and down in a way that raised her hackles. "Look here! A wench who thinks herself of warrior caste!"

They both laughed.

"I don't think it." Thirty years on the throne and fifty of dealing with the curse of her Power had given Systlin self control of tempered steel. She kept her voice mild. "I know it."

She spoke the words in Northron. But the same little tingle of Power rose, and she saw the faces of the men register surprise. She grinned then, showing her teeth.

"I want," she said, with all the command that an upbringing as a Crown Princess, commanding men and women in war, and thirty years on the throne had given her. "To see a witch."

They looked at her for a heartbeat, and then as one both men threw their heads back and laughed as if what she had just said was the most wonderful joke.

"A wench commands!" The man on the gray cackled. "You'll hold your tongue, wench, when spoken to. You are our prize, now." He grinned at her, leering.

"No." Systlin said, voice level. "I will not, and am not. And if you call me 'wench' again, I will cut your tongue out of your head and make you wear it as a necklace."

More laughter. "She's fire! I may keep her, Sathak, and break her to my collar. She looks strong; she could do much work in my wagon."

Steel whispered against wood and leather. Systlin shifted into a stance as easily as she breathed, sword and dagger drawn.

"Wench!" The rider on the gray again. "Put those down; they are men's things. You are our captive now, and you will submit or die."

Systlin didn't move. But she grinned, showing her teeth again.

They circled, closer and closer. Systlin waited.

The hindquarters of the gray bunched. By the time it had sprung, Systlin was moving.

They were nearly as fast as wraithen. Nearly, but not quite; the spring was much the same as the kind a wraithen would use to ambush prey. Systlin dropped low, and Ice swept up. The resistance of flesh, and then she was rolling back to her feet in a low crouch as the horse-creature went down in a screaming pile, its back legs tangling in its own spilled guts.

A roar of rage from the second man, even as the one on the dying gray screamed in pain as his beast landed on his legs. The second rider roared in rage again, and his arm drew back and snapped forward.

Systlin didn't bother to avoid the lance; it struck her in the shoulder, smarting slightly; it would probably bruise, but she didn't care. It glanced off of the wraithen scale armor hidden beneath her leather jerkin, and spun to the ground.

"I told you." Systlin hissed this through her teeth.

The man drew out a bola, and began to twirl it. Systlin narrowed her eyes, and despite her lingering headache reached inward.

A flicker of blue, and the leather of the bola burst into flame. The rider screamed again, but it was too late; fed by Systlin's will, the flames spread from the weapon to his clothing even as the bola crumbled to ash. In but a moment, he was a pillar of flame, screaming piteously as flesh melted and hair burned, until at last rider and beast alike were engulfed.

It did not take long for the witch-fire to eat flesh and bone to ash. Systlin banished the flames then.

Her head throbbed. She should not have called on her Power so much so quickly, but she'd been angry.

There was still moaning coming from under the downed, slain beast. She made her way over.

The rider of the gray's legs were trapped. He was struggling desperately and fruitlessly to free himself, and when he saw her coming he spat a long string of vicious curses at her.

Systlin ignored these as she stood over him and cleaned the blood from Ice. Sheathed it. She did not sheathe her dagger.

"SLEEN! Whore! Witch! Misbegotten sleen spawn!"

"I am one of those." Systlin agreed. She crouched over him, near his head. "And I made a promise to you." She raised her knife, and smiled. "You should not have called me 'wench."

Systlin had, rather than string the man's tongue on a thong, simply set it on his chest. He would likely bleed out or suffocate on his own blood; she didn't really care.

She cleaned her dagger on the flank of the dead beast as he moaned and gurgled, trying to breathe through the blood in his mouth.

She squinted, looking at the distant horizon in the direction the riders had come from.

There was a cloud of dust there, some miles away. She had seen such clouds before, during her time with Sura's riders; it was the sort of dust cloud that came from many animals moving together.

She began to walk towards the dust.

It was a long walk. But then, Systlin ran ten miles every morning before she ate breakfast; she was well used to long marches. The lesser effort required to walk in this lower gravity meant that six miles felt like far less.

She wished, all the same, that she had Siatch with her. A proper horse, not those fanged monsters.

At last, on the horizon she saw the slow shifting of a great heard of creatures; as she drew closer she could make out what appeared to be wagons.

Riders on those strange horse-things were circling back and forth and milling around. Some appeared to be playing. Her sharp ears caught the distant sound of laughter.

As she drew nearer, several of the riders apparently spotted her; the peeled off from the camp and headed towards her at speed. Systlin kept walking, doing a mental count.

Ten thousand. Perhaps more. She squinted at the wagons, spreading across the plains as far as she could see.

She kept walking, unhurried, unworried, even as the riders closed. Ice and her dagger were a comforting weight on her belt.

She smiled to herself suddenly, remembering Sura's consternation when she'd announced her intention to go to the Iron Mountain and the sabbashin.

"It is suicide!" Sura had said, fearful. "No one comes back from there, beloved, with their mind their own. The Master of Knives takes them, and makes them his creatures, body and soul. I could not bear that for you."

"Sura." She had smoothed Sura's hair. "You forget what I am."

Breaker.

She'd brought down the Iron Mountain. She'd Broken the walls of Myr. She had the power, she knew, to level this whole bloody camp if she so chose. She could feel it curling in her blood, cold and eager, a promise of sheer glorious ecstatic destruction.

She kept walking, even as the riders on those strange beasts closed on her, lances ready.

Kamchak and I were conversing over a midday meal of bosk liver and cheese when the furor at the edge of the camp began. The girl Elizabeth, sulking in the corner of the wagon, looked up at once. There was the sound of a kaiila screaming in pain, voices shouting, and there! The ring of steel.

Kamchak and I were on our feet and running in but a moment, but I was puzzled; the Tuchuks were unruly, it was true, and small skirmishes often broke out, but these were usually settled in ritual combat fought on foot, not with kaiila. This left a raid, and who would ever be foolish enough to raid the main tribe of the Tuchuks? Such was certain death.

Yet, even as we ran along with many other men, there was another pained scream from an injured kaiila, and a cry of pain from a man. The smell of charred flesh drifted on the air, and a plume of smoke. There was a great confusion of shouting, and I could not make out any single voice in the furor.

We came around the corner of a wagon. Now I could see down the wide grassy lane that ran down the middle of the camp, to the source of all the furor. I expected to see a war band, or even a whole attacking tribe.

I did not expect what I did see, which was a woman.

She was standing over the corpses of three kaiila and at the least count seven riders. She held a sword in her right hand, and a long dagger in her left. Her legs were spread, planted into a fighting man's stance. I noted that she stood with excellent balance.

Her hair was dark, and her eyes quite blue. The hair was pulled back into a plait down her back, and the eyes were cold. There was a fey light in them, and I noticed to my great unease that the corpses of two of the slain riders at her feet were gently smoking.

She was splashed and spattered with blood, and did not seem to notice this or care.

She wore a leather tunic, and trousers of wool. Her boots were leather, and fit close to the calves; I noted, that the shape of calf and thigh was sturdy, muscular. Her forearms were lean, wiry, corded with more muscle than I had before seen on a woman.

The slaves and Tuchuk riders and dour Tuchuk women were silent. To my abject shock, though the Tuchuk warriors greatly outnumbered her and stood with weapons drawn, they were hanging back.

As I looked past her, I saw at least three more dead kaiila and more corpses of warriors further from camp.

The woman spoke. In the oddest way, though the sounds she made were gibberish to my ears, understanding came nonetheless.

"I said." Her voice was cold, and commanding. "That I want to speak to someone of power. And for the fifth time, I am no captive, or slave, and the first hand to get near my ass is forfeit." She jerked her chin at the corpses near her feet, as if to emphasize her point. "And if you keep insisting on doing things the hard way, I will be quite happy to kill every bloody man in this bloody shithole and burn this camp down around your ears, I swear on the Lady's name. I have had a very bad day, and it would honestly be a pleasure. But if you can help me to get home, we'll forget this whole unpleasant day ever happened."

It occurred to me that she was attractive, if far too muscular for Gorean tastes.

"Who is this wench!" Cried Kamchak, "Who thinks herself a warrior?"

The blue eyes of the woman darted to him, cold and furious. She should have, were she sane, been terrified at the looming mass of Tuchuk warriors, fierce and scarred, that were gathering before her. Each was gripping his lance, but the caution of their brothers had spread and they hung back to a man and looked to Kamchak.

She did not look frightened. She looked angry, but the anger was wrong. I am used to the anger of women; it burns hot and passionate and rules them. This look, though, was one of cold and measured anger, restrained and absolute.

"The last man to call me that," her voice was low, and despite her sex the hairs on my neck and arms stood up in warning, "Drowned in his own blood after I tore his tongue out. What is wrong with you people?"

"Kamchak," said another of the Tuchuks nearby, his voice low in warning. "She is but a woman, but she has killed fifteen of our warriors, and thirteen trained kaiila. She is a sorceress." He pointed to the smoking corpses of riders. "She can summon fire from air, and fights like nothing I have seen. We should fetch Kutaituchik."

Kamchak looked back up at the woman, eyes narrow. She met his gaze, fearless, chin up and eyes narrow.

"What are you called, sorceress?" Kamchak asked.

"Systlin Stellas." Her voice was still cold.

"Very well. We will take her to Kutaituchik. Sheathe your weapons, woman, and follow me."

She eyed the gathered warriors, and then spun her sword. It was a neat little motion, well practiced. I knew it; I used a similar motion to flick blood from the blade of my sword before I sheathed it. This was, indeed, precisely what she now did, but the speed of it was startling.

The long knife and sword slid away into sheaths of rich leather of impeccable quality. The fittings of each were gold. I saw more than a few Tuchuk warriors eyeing them greedily, and thought that the warrior who claimed them would strut them about for a very long time.

“What I said holds.” She said, coolly. “Any hand laid on me, I take off at the wrist.”

Kamchak laughed. “You’ve fire, woman, I’ll grant you. Almost enough to make me think it would be worth the effort of collaring you.”

“If you’re so keen to die,” She said, her voice colder still. “Go on and try.”

He laughed again, but his eyes were narrow. “Fifteen warriors?” He asked.

Systlin raised her eyebrows.

“Hadrak says that you killed fifteen warriors of the Tuchuk.”

“He’s mistaken.” Systlin’s voice was still level.

“Ah!” A look of victory in Kamchak’s eyes.

“I killed seventeen.” A slight pause. “I am assuming those outriders on the bay and the gray were of your tribe?”

Hadrak hissed in fury. “Oman and Hadar!”

“Yes, I thought so.”

“Oman was my brother! Kamchak…”

“I said we would take her to Kutaituchik.” Kamchak said. “And that is what we will do. No doubt Kutaituhcik will see your case, but she may be given to the brothers or kinsman of any of the others she has slain to be punished as well.”

“Will I?” Systlin sounded almost amused, and I realized that she was of course quite mad.

“Of course you will. This way.”

“Yes.” Her voice dripped scorn. “Of course I will.” But she followed, and around her closed the ranks of the Tuchuk warriors at her back. She was now quite trapped; even the greatest of warriors could not hope to fight free of the main camp of the Tuchuks; they boasted three thousand warriors of great strength and skill.

I wondered if she would be collared, or simply killed. She was attractive, if too strongly built, but a master could monitor activity and diet to remedy such things. She was, no doubt, fiery and strong-willed, but such women, it is said, make the greatest and most passionate slaves once broken.

Ah, well. The only way to find out was to follow, and so I did.

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lovemeleo · 3 years

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I would love to see Sirius Remus and Asher going to Nuny's to check up on Jackson and then Asher is all adorable with the cats

Thanks so much for this prompt, anon! I got so excited as soon as I saw it. Get to combine my baby Asher with my favorite Nuny boys. I hope you enjoy it! These characters and their world (except for Asher) belong to the always amazing @lumosinlove.

If you haven’t read the rest of the Asher Pascal series, here’s the link!

***

“Now remember Ash, just because Uncle Nado doesn’t have the cast anymore doesn’t mean you can jump all over him.” Sirius said, glancing back at his son through the rearview mirror.

Asher nodded, clutching at his Lions stuffie as he stared out the window, “‘Cause he’s still hurtin’.”

Smiling, Remus reached back to pat the little boy’s foot, “That’s right, bub.”

Asher had been there for the game when Nado got hurt, and had been worried ever since. They’d already talked to him about how a lot of his family played hockey, and sometimes they got hurt. He had understood that but talking about it is a lot different than seeing it in front of your very eyes. The almost two year old had been itching to visit Jackson, but Sirius and Remus wanted to give him more time to heal up. So Asher video chatted with Nado whenever he could, going on about his day and whatever other things happened to pop into his head. He also gave Kuny drawings and get well cards, as well as one of his favorite stuffed animals to give to Nado until he could visit. Jackson teared up a bit when Kuny brought the gifts home, but he’ll deny it.

Now after two months, today was finally the day. Jackson had gotten his cast off a few days before and the Black-Lupin clan was given the OK to come visit.

Asher was wiggling in his seat as soon as Sirius put the car in park, a new drawing clutched in his hands, “C’monnnn. Time to get out!”

“Alright, let me get my seatbelt off first, jeez.” Remus said with a laugh before he climbed out. As soon as Asher was unbuckled, he made a break for the door but Sirius grabbed him quickly, throwing him over his shoulder. Wild giggles came from Asher as he held onto his daddy, dangling upside down over his back.

Remus let out an exasperated sigh, but it was mostly fond, “Be careful. We don’t need anyone else in casts.” Sirius looked back at him with a smile, blowing the other man a kiss before knocking on the door.

After a brief pause, there was some talking from behind the door before Kuny swung open, “Sorry, I should have asked. Do you have allergies?”

“Like food allergies?” Sirius asked, his eyebrows furrowed at the strange greeting as he moved Asher onto his hip.

Kuny shook his head as he pushed something behind the door away with his foot, “No, no food. Like animals.”

Then a voice came from inside the house, “Cats. He wants to know if you’re allergic to cats!” Nado yelled. Kuny glanced back, giving him a look.

“You got a cat?” Remus asked, peeking behind Kuny curiously. “And no, we’re not allergic to cats. Asher has a habit of trying to steal them though when we help at the shelter.”

Nodding, Kuny moved back to let them in, “We got cats. And I would steal too.” He said with a grin as he stole Asher from Sirius’s arms, leading them to the living room where Nado was waiting. Asher clung to him happily, his arms wrapping around the giant man’s neck.

Nado grinned, holding Milo up like he was Simba in the Lion King, “Kuny took me to a cat café after I got my cast off, and we ended up getting attached.” He said, bringing the kitten back down so he could nuzzle him back into his neck.

“Uncle Nadooooooooo!” Asher squealed as soon as he saw his other uncle. Kuny set him down next to the couch. “I drew you this picture, it’s got me and you and Uncle Zhenya!”

Carefully taking the drawing, Jackson smiled as he ruffled Asher’s hair, “It’s great, dude. Can’t wait to hang it up.”

Asher smiled big, but his eyes quickly scanned over his Uncle as if to check him over, “You ‘kay?” He asked, looking up from the boot.

“I’m doing much better now. The boot’s a lot more comfy than the cast.” Nado said with a soft smile, pulling Asher onto the couch next to him. Milo peered down at the new little person and started to scamper his way down Nado’s chest. “Seems like Milo wants to meet you.”

Remus leaned forward from his spot on the opposite couch, smiling as the small gray ball of fluff sniffed curiously at Asher, “He’s so cute.”

The kitten nuzzled into Asher’s hand, letting out a soft purr as he made himself comfortable on the small boy’s lap.

“Wait… did you say cats? As in plural?” Sirius asked, glancing around the room.

Kuny nodded, before he got up, “I grab Pumpkin. One second.” He said before heading to their room.

Petting his hand gently down the small kitten’s back, Asher looked up at his dads with a big smile, “He’s so soft. And tiny!”

“Yeah, Milo is the smallest of the bunch. He’s our little guy.” Jackson smiled, gently scratching under the kitten’s chin before he handed Asher one of the toys, it had a long stick with a string attached that had a small fish toy on the end. “He likes this one. If you just drag it back and forth, he’ll chase it.”

Asher took the toy, trailing the small fish toy back and forth. Milo scampered after it, stumbling a bit as he tried to keep up with the fish toy.

Kuny came out of their bedroom not long after, carrying what looked to be a mass of orange fluff in his arms, “This is my Pumpkin.” He may have been smiling but the entirety of his face was covered by Pumpkin’s fluff.

Remus couldn’t help but laugh as he watched his friend try to sit next to his boyfriend when he very obviously couldn’t see.

“To the left a bit, babe.” Nado said, a fond smile spreading on his face as he pulled Kuny to sit down next to him before looking at their friends. “He got attached to her so we couldn’t leave her behind.”

Pumpkin let out an indignant meow as Kuny set her down on the floor by his feet, her tail swishing behind her as she made her way to where Sirius and Remus sat.

“You guys know you don’t have to take the cats with you when you visit cat cafes right?” Sirius teased, gently running his fingers through Pumpkin’s soft fur as she brushed against his legs.

Kuny laughed, resting his arm behind Nado as he leaned back into the couch, “They choose us, we just can’t refuse them.” He said, a soft smile spreading on his face.

Shaking his head, Remus reached to pet Pumpkin who had sprawled across Sirius’s lap, “So we leave you guys alone for a couple weeks and come back to you adopting two cats.”

“Three.”

Their heads whipped up to look at Nado who was smirking, “We got three cats.. And well the last one. It was more like he adopted us.”

Asher looked up from where he was nuzzling into Milo’s fur, “Where’s the other kitty?”

As if he heard them talking about him, Loki let out a loud meow from the kitchen, followed by another long one.

Kuny and Nado sighed, sharing a glance as Kuny got up, “Probably stuck on fridge. Again.”

“You spoil him, Zhenya. He’s big enough to get down by himself, but he knows you’ll come get him.” Nado said, shaking his head.

Eyebrows furrowed, they watched Kuny wander into the kitchen. Remus could hear soft whispering, but it was in Russian so he had no clue what the man was saying.

Nado looked over at them, “Loki jumps on the fridge if he feels that he’s not getting enough attention from Zhenya. And he stays up there until he comes and gets him.”

Kuny came back in, followed by a massive cat who was trailing as close to the Russian as possible without stepping on his feet.

“Jesus Fu-..” Sirius said, cutting himself off with a glance at his son.

Asher’s eyes were wide as he looked at the new cat, “Uncle Nado, you got a jaguar?!”

Laughing, Kuny picked Loki up, cradling him in his arms like a massive furry baby, “No jaguar, Ash. Just big kitty.” The massive cat nuzzled into Kuny’s chest as he sat back on the couch, letting out a loud purr now that he finally had his human’s attention.

“He’s a maine coon cat actually, they think he’s around one or two years old.” Jackson said, reaching over to scratch at Loki’s head.

Remus raised an eyebrow, “So he’s still growing?” He asked as the giant cat stretched out, sprawling across Nado and Kuny’s laps but his eyes were on the newcomers. “I’m feeling vaguely threatened.”

Kuny shook his head, “Nah, Loops, no threat. He's a big cuddle bug. You can pet him, Ash. Let him sniff you.” He said, as the little boy handed Milo off to Nado.

Asher moved slowly, holding his hand out for Loki to smell his hand. The big cat watched the tiny human curiously, sniffing at his hand before he got up. The tiny human had a small lap but it would have to do. Loki flopped down into Asher’s lap, almost covering him completely as the cat let out a loud purr. Asher’s face lit up as he looked between his parents and his uncles.

“He likes me!” Asher said happily as Loki curled up, nuzzling up into the little boy’s neck. Remus couldn’t help himself as he pulled out his phone, snapping pictures of Asher and Loki.

Smiling, Nado set Milo back onto his shoulder, “Well, I’m not surprised he likes you, dude. Loki’s a good judge of character.” Asher held the giant cat closer, his massive grin partially hidden in Loki’s fur.

Sirius couldn’t help but let out a sigh as he saw the happiness on Asher’s face, “Dammit… now we’re gonna have to get a cat.”

Letting out a laugh, Remus pressed a kiss to Sirius’s head. He couldn’t even disagree at this point.

Guess they should start looking at shelters.

#nuny #coops #asher pascal #anon prompt #anon ask #lumosinlove #sweater weather #jackson nadeau #evgeni kuznetsov #sirius black #remus lupin #wolfstar #cat dads #wolfstar being dads #fluff #wolfstar fluff #wolfstar kid #lumosinlove sweater weather #soft boys

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kaiparker-avengerssmut · 3 years

Text

Their Doll 3

Training

B.Barnes x Reader, S.Rogers x Stark!Reader

series synopsis: y/n Stark, all records of her non existent, and yet Hydra still find her. When she is kidnapped by a certain super-soldier and no one believes her, she finds herself searching for unexpected familiarity in her not-so-distant past.

Series Warnings: smut, violence, torture, swearing

Chapter summery: y/n starts training at Hydra and dicovers the other side of Bucky

warnings: violence

A/n: The timeline in this has been altered, as there I things I wanted to include but I also wanted this fic to follow the storyline/timeline of Winter Soldier and Civil war.So for purposes of this fanfic, Peter Parker was discovered by Tony at a much younger age - when he was bitten - and has been an intern with him since, almost like a protégée.(For the purposes of this story Peter was bitten much younger too - more like when he was 9 or ten rather than 14/15)

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

A little buzz sounded as my cell drew open, the chamber opposites sat empty. My head turned slightly to see a gruff man walk in, electrified baton in hand. I knew to be careful when they carried one of those.

"Up." Was all he said, hand wrapping around the metal cuffs and yanking me to my feet before he was dragging me through the desolate corridor.

It was strangely quiet - the past month the cells had been full, SHIELD agents and enemies of HYDRA clogging up the little glass rooms with blood stain clothes and bruised faces. I guess they'd been disposed of, and that though sent a chill down my spine. Is that how I was to end?

His hand pushed roughly between my shoulder blades, one foot falling over the other in a stumble as I fell into the room, the guard stepping in behind me and letting the heavy metal door slam shut with a threatening thud. The man I had first met when he smiled grimly at me once my alterations had first been completed was waiting with a smug grin - a sickening expression a rarely saw him without unless it was replaced with one of rage. I had come to know him simply as 'General'.

"Good afternoon, Miss Stark." He grinned, waving his hand menacing to motion me forward. I did as I was told, plodding forward tentatively until I was stood before him. A wince escaped me as he rough grabbed my chin, pulling it between his thumb and finger to tilt my head back so my gaze bored into his. "We are starting your training today." He stated, his free hand reaching around to unclasp the metal contraption laid over my mouth.

He tossed it to the bench that stood next to him before he raked a hand through my greasy hair, pushing the tangled locks out of my face. He seemed to observe me for a moment, letting his eyes wander over my body - which was clad in some simple black tactical suit - before landing back on my eyes again.

"You will be fighting the winter soldier every day for at least two hours. This training will only stop once you have beat him, and once this happens, we'll know you are ready to be released into the world." The General explained, letting go of my chin and giving me a nudge towards the centre of the room. It was only then that I saw the soldier standing there.

But he was not my comfort buddy. This version of him was rough, cruel looking. His teeth were bared, chest heaving and nostrils were flared. His bicep bulged against the leather of his suit and his face was set in a ruthless scowl. I gulped, meekly making my way to stand in front of him.

"Begin." Was all the general had to say before the soldier was on me, metal fist flying for my head in a fast punch. I ducked just in time, scurrying to the other side of him and taking the time to think.

I begun to hum a hypnotising tune, in hopes of stopping the lug of a man preparing to hit me harder this time, but with no luck. Distracted, his fist collided with my stomach this time, sucking the air from my lungs and lurching my backwards until my ass connected with the ground. I groaned loudly, rubbing my sore stomach as I tried humming again. All the while the soldier advanced on me, taking heavy step before his Chucky boat was connecting with my side.

"You may found his mind is much...stronger than a usual human's." The general smirked and my eyes widened as I quickly flipped onto my front, desperately attempting to crawl away. But I had no luck, the feeling of the soldier's gloved hand made me cry out as it gripped my hip and pulled me backwards harshly before his metal hand curled around my throat. He hoisted me up it the air, turning my small body in his hands as if I were as light as paper before slamming my head backwards into the wall, hand still tight around my neck.

My legs kicked aimlessly in the air, hands clawing frantically at his own as he repeated slammed my head backwards against the concrete.

"Enough!" The general barked as I felt my eyes rolling back, consciousness falling from my grasp. The soldier released me, my limp body falling the the floor at his feet as I coughed and spluttered. The soldier tune Ed away, walking to the centre of the room as I gasped for air and leant forward on my hands, retching at the ground from all fours. "Again!"

My eyes widened in realisation and I began to scramble to my feet, but the ominous footsteps reached my first and before I could utter a single word my body was crushed to the floor, the soldier's thick thighs straddling my own - tapping my arms at my sides too - to stop my from flailing.

The impact of his metal fist crashing against the side of my face burst my lips open and the wet trickle of blood down my chin made me shiver. Then it hit again and I cried out, a stinging echoing across the right side of my face. I could feel the flow of blood from my nose and the tangy taste of it on my tongue as it infiltrated my mouth, sliding over my lips.

I started to slip away, ready to let the pain take me when I heard the word boomed again.

"Enough!" The soldier pulled away instantly, pushing up from my thighs and thudding back across to the centre of the room again. A dizziness washed over me, and I soon came to realise that it would be a long time before I beat him. Then the dreaded word was ordered, reaching a groan from me as I climbed onto shaking feet, this time raising my aching arms and dusting my hands in order to attempt to block him: "Again."

... You'd think that was the worst part, huh? Well, guess again. What the general had definitely failed to leave out was the punishment for losing. For each game I lost, I earned myself five strikes.

When our first session was up, I was quickly escorted out - not before they replaced my silencer (that's what I opted to call it) - and dragged to another new room. This one also stood bare, only housing a single wooden pillar that stood around my own height that housed a round metal cuff of either side about half way up. I sealed thickly, eyeing the cuffs with fear and hesitation as I was shoved forwards until I was stood before the wood.

"Kneel." That order was spat at me, and the baton in the guard's hand made me oblige quickly, sinking to my knees before it and grimacing at the uneven gravel under my knees that bit into my skin even through my suit. He silently walked over to me, grabbing my wrists one at a time and locking them into the cuffs - nothing gentle about it. The jingle of his key was like nails on a chalkboard in my ears as he slipped my back into his belt and walked away.

The door was slung open, loud footsteps approaching me before an unsettling breath was at my ear.

"Maybe after this, you'll actually try to win tomorrow." The general gritted out, the cold tip on a knife hooking into the top on my suit and poking the back of my neck making me flinch. I gasped suddenly as he yanked the blade down, slitting the suit down the back and cutting it free of my arms until the fabric bunched at my waist. My sports bra was next to go, leaving me feeling humiliated as I felt the watchful eyes of both the general and the guards on my bared breast and nipples which were leaked from the cold.

I felt humiliated, knelt with my wrists bound and my top half naked in a room full of much less than honourable men in a place I didn't know. I flinched again when I heated the whip crack in the air, the general flicking the leather around in order to test it out.

"Why don't you count for me, princess?" He mocked, the sinister laughter of the guards adding to his at the sexual inference and my bottom lips quivered. The snap of the leather against my back sent a scream through me, snuffed out by the silencer. My body quaked and my eyes pooled with stinging tears as they became bloodshot red. Sweat broke out on my forehead as the once again sickening feeling of blood trickling down my skin filled my senses.

One, I counted in my head and a second later, the second hit harder than the first.

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tillthelandslide · 4 years

Text

A Distracting Kiss

Request from the kind @pixie1484 : “Hey there.I would love if you could write a medical fanfic where Henry is sick and needs to take injections but is really scared and is a big baby when it comes to needles..Thanks a bunch💕”. I really hope you enjoy you, thank you for being so patient with me, sorry it took a while.

Authors Note: Hope you enjoy this fluffy piece, we wanted to include Henry’s lovely bottom haha - L

Tag list : @harrysthiccthighss @thereisa8ella @magdelen69 @henrythickcavill @hc-geralt-23 @kissthatlifeaway @darkbooksarwin @august-w-princess @speakerforthedead0 @pixie1484 @constip8merm8 @tigerbroadwaybaby @agniavateira @summersong69 @aestheticallywinchester @stephartrave @al-wiisa @henrycavillfanpage @intenselikes @anat2507 @ellixthea @aguspalazzo @1ookatthestars00 @wintersoldierslut @michelehansel @cavill-sass @thecavillstache @xelizabethvalentinex

(if you would like to be added to my tag list, feel free to message me, if you are new to my blog then I post Henry Cavill fanfics and make Henry Cavill fake Instagram posts, my requests are open so feel free to request anything and I will try my best to make your vision come to life)

Today was the day Henry would be getting his injections. He had texted you and begged you to come along with him, he was beyond nervous and it made you giggle. You couldn't understand how your best friend, the strongest, biggest, bravest person you knew, a man who performs dangerous stunts and fight sequences, was so afraid of a few injections. You kind of loved that he was nervous, not in a horrible way but it meant you could be there for him in a way no one else could. You and Henry hadn't known each other that long, you met him in the set of the Witcher where you worked and had hit it off immediately. Your friendship was very flirty and to those who didn't know you, well they would've guessed you were a couple. You remember attending the wrap party for the witcher and Henry had been attached to you, constantly holding your hand, or placing his hand on your waist, even pulling you to sit on his lap when he had had a few drinks. You didn't mind the dynamic of your relationship, but there was this unspoken tension between you, one in which drew you together, you were in love with him but never knew he felt the same.

You arrived at Henry's house and let yourself in with a spare key he had given you. You closed the door behind you as Kal ran up to you, you knelt down and pet him on the head, your fingers massaging behind his ears.

"Where's your daddy, big guy?" you said, making Kal pant happily at you.

"Henry?" you called out, placing your keys down on a table near Henry's door. You heard him grunt from the living room so walked there, Kal following closely behind you. You were met with Henry pacing back and forth, his index finger and thumb pulling at his bottom lip. You walked up to him and wrapped your small hand around his, making him stop pulling his lip.

"Hi." you said, moving his hand which was now in yours away from him.

"Hey" he grunted. He got like this when he was nervous, moody and brooding.

"Hen. Calm down it's going to be fine" you said, walking to sit on his sofa, you had some time before you needed to drive him to his appointment. Kal jumped up on the sofa, sprawling himself out across your lap, pouting up at his dad nervously.

"Henry Cavill, please sit down. Cmon your making Kal nervous" you said sternly, making him look down at Kal and pout.

"I'm sorry buddy" he said, stroking his head.

"Come here" you said, moving your legs further apart and gesturing for him to sit on the floor in between your legs. He did as he was told, his back facing you. Your hands rested against his shoulder, gently massaging them to try relieve some of the stress. You could feel Henry's shoulders drop as soon as you started massaging them, you could sense that he had calmed down just a little bit.

"Now listen to me okay? You're going to be fine, I'll be there the whole time, you can hold my hand if you want.

"Hmm. It's going to hurt isn't it?" he said, looking at you over his shoulder, he groaned when you loosened a particularly hard knot in his shoulder.

"It feels like barely a scratch" you said trying to reassure him. You could tell it hadn't worked because his lip was being chewed by his teeth.

"Henry you're going to bruise yourself" you said referring to his incessant chewing.

"Hmm" he said not listening to you, you leant forward over his shoulder, and did the first thing that came to your mind, which in this case was to place a kiss against his cheek, very close to his mouth. He stopped chewing his lip instantly, making you smile triumphantly. You stood up, offering him your hand which he took and you helped pull him up, his hands came to rest on your hips almost instinctively, yours resting on his shoulders.

"You'll be fine" you repeated, making him nod, although it was half-hearted. He pulled you against him, wrapping himself around you in a hug. You loved this vulnerable side of Henry and loved that he rarely showed it to many people, naming you feel special. One of your hands moved to the back of his, playing with the hairs there to try soothe him.

"We gotta go" you said, making the both of you pull away. You grabbed his hand, leading him to the door, you picked up your keys. You left Henry by the door, sorting out Kal as he was too preoccupied to do so. You looked down at Kal and spoke to him.

"We'll be back soon okay? Be good, you've got water and food and the back door is open slightly so you can do your business. We won't be long" you said, stroking his head, he soon huffed and walked away making you chuckle, he really didn't care that you were leaving. You looked back at Henry who was staring at his feet, his bottom lip back in between his teeth. Your small hand resting against his face, pulling him from his thoughts as you looked up at him, sympathy written across your face.

"Ready?" you said, your hand dropping to grasp his. He nodded and you opened the door, closing it and leading Henry to your car. You drove to the appointment, telling Henry to take a seat whilst you spoke to the receptionist. You were called in shortly after and Henry was told to sit down on the examination table.

"He's really nervous huh?" the doctor said to you, making you nod. This was Henry's doctor so he knew him well but he had never seen him this nervous before and he commented on it to you.

"It's just going to feel like a little scratch" the nurse said, making Henry nod, she began to prepare the injections and you stood next to Henry, him immediately grasping your hand.

"Why is the needle so long?" he said, you could feel him beginning to shake.

"It's okay, it's okay. Y’know I wouldn't let you do anything that would seriously hurt you, right?" you said, making him nod as the nurse came back over, she began to find his vein on his arm and he looked at you, you had never seen him look so worried.

"I'm going to administer the injection now okay? You'll feel a short scratch and that's it" the nurse said, Henry didn't reply so she didn't start yet. Henry was just looking at you and he was shaking so much, an idea came to mind so you nodded at the nurse. The needle was placed against his arm and as she was about to inject it, your fingers grasped his chin and you pushed your lips gently against his. He moved his lips against yours, completely forgetting about the injection.

"There's the first one done." the nurse said, placing some cotton wool on his arm and smirking at you. Henry looked between you and the nurse, dumbfounded, he didn't feel a thing, probably too distracted by your lips against his.

The whole time the doctor was preparing another injection, Henry's manager who had organised this had also informed them that he needed an anti-sickness injection as he was going to be doing a lot of travelling.

"So we've also been informed you need an anti-sickness injection, now this injection requires me and the nurse here. It has to be administered through the glutes, it will hurt a tiny bit more than the one in your arm and you will feel a numbness for a few hours after" the doctor said calmly, you could tell Henry was still a bit nervous but you think the kiss that happened was distracting him enough so he didn't get too worked up.

"Due us both needed to help, you can't be by his side unfortunately, you can take a seat here" the said kindly to you making you smile.

"That's fine" you smiled back, going to move away from Henry, who didn't let you and squeezed your hand harder.

"I'm just going to be sitting right here" you said, the chair was placed a tiny bit further away from him but he'd still be able to see you. He nodded and let you go. The doctor instructed him to lie down on the bed and pull his trousers down which he did and he then began inserting the injection. Henry's face pinched up slightly and you could tell he was uncomfortable, he wasn't in pain however which was good.

You tried to make him more comfortable by making a joke "Nice bum" you joked, making him chuckle (and the doctor and nurse too).

"There we go, all done" the doctor said, finishing up the injection.

"Now as I said, your glutes will feel a little bit numb for a while and may feel achy tomorrow but that feeling should go away in a day or 2. Same goes for your arm. If you have any problems like bruising or bleeding, come and see me" he said as Henry got ready, sitting up from the table.

"Thanks doc" Henry said, back to his usual self, shaking his hand.

"Thank you." you said, shaking his hand too.

"Might need your help to calm a few other patients." he said, making you laugh.

You drove Henry home, opening the door for him and smirking at him as you both walked inside.

"What?" he said, laughing to himself at how ridiculous he was behaving.

"Nothing" you shrugged, still laughing to yourself. You walked to the kitchen pulling out two glasses and filling them with water, walking back to his living room and sitting next to him on the sofa, passing him a glass.

He raised his eyebrows at you as he took a sip.

"Never known you to be such a big baby" you teased, nudging his shoulder.

"Hey that's mean" he said, pouting.

"I'm only joking. I like vulnerable Henry" you said smiling at him.

"Don't get used to it" he said, smiling and taking a sip from his water, leaning forward to place his drink down. He groaned as he did so.

"Man, my butt really aches" he said, making you check out his butt.

"Did you just check out my butt?" he said, making you giggle.

"It's a nice butt" you shrugged, not caring that you were being so open.

"Thank you and thanks for everything you did today. Nice trick by the way" he said and you presumed he was talking about the kiss.

"Anytime" you said, jokingly winking at him.

"Might have to take you up on the offer" he said, leaning in slightly.

"More than welcome to" you said, leaning in slightly too. Henry pushed forward a tiny bit more, pressing his lips against you lightly. His bottom lips felt slightly chapped, probably from how much he had been chewing it, but you didn't mind, his lips felt good against yours. It was just a sweet kiss but it was nice. Henry pulled away, pulling you into a hug, your head resting against his chest.

"You should know you're special to me yn. Not many people get to see me the way you saw me today" he said seriously.

"You mean to tell me that you don't act like a big baby to everyone" you said, making him laugh sarcastically.

"I'm serious though." he said, looking down at you.

"I know" you said, smiling sweetly up at him "I appreciate you being like that with me" you said, leaning up to place another sweet kiss against his lips.

All you knew in that moment was, you and Henry hadn't defined what you are, but you knew you were something to him, after all many people get to so the vulnerable Henry, or his nice butt for a matter of fact.

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

By the king’s hand 🐍 V

Warnings: warnings to be added as we progress but this series may contain non-consent, violence, death, and other triggers (this chapter, slight oral, handjob/fingering, degradation)

This is dark!fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You leave the capital but you can’t break away from your keeper.

Note: Hopefully I can work on my masterlist updates today! So keep an eye out on @darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

The king hadn’t been gone long before your departure was set and the palace set to readying the horses and their riders. Loki presented you with a maid’s dress and apron and had you dress the part for the journey to his brother’s manor of Thunder Lodge.

“Keep your head down,” he bid as you changed, “If any should wonder why you are unfamiliar, you will explain that you have recently been re-allocated among the staff. When we do arrive, if any do question your duties, you will say you tend to one of the lords.”

There were a dozen servants in the cart with you, packed in among chests and other luggage. As you rocked with its motion, you could see him and hear his voice still.

“Do not mention me. Once all is settled, you will join me and remain in my chambers until we return to the road.” He fixed his hair in the glass as he spoke. He was agitated as he continued to find ways to keep his hands busy. “And at last, I might show you truly the extent of your sentence.”

You squeezed your thighs together as you pressed yourself to the side of the cart. You could remember so clearly the way his tongue felt and that joyous flame which had overtaken our core. It made you sweat to think on it and his promises of more only added to your unwanted fervour. Your spite was splintered by your sinful want.

The secrecy made it feel worse. It assured you that it was wrong. Certainly, a bed warmer was not unheard of, mistresses far more common, but Loki’s insistence upon deception made you anxious. Perhaps, it added to his amusement. Or perhaps he was ashamed to lay with a commoner. It truly didn’t matter so you pondered little on his whims.

Camp was made just after dark. The moon beamed down on the party and you slept among the staff and the horses. You didn’t expect Loki to call for you nor were you disappointed. Yet you thought of him. You couldn’t shake him.

Even as you thought of sneaking away, he lingered in your mind. He warned you that you would not go unobserved and you hadn’t. You noticed the guard and how he stayed close to the servants’ cart. His grey eyes as they found you amid the bunch. He was one of esteemed warriors assigned to the king’s personal guard and yet he wore the mail of the common palace sentinel. You both wore disguises and both knew each other to be interlopers.

The party rose with the sun. It wasn’t long before you were in the cart again. You dozed for some minutes but woke as you were jostled roughly. You watched the winding path and the trees peter out to tall grasses and fields of yellow, blue, and red petals.

Your vision streaked as your head spun; something about this trip made you anxious, not that you had felt anything but in the last days. There was a foreboding deep in your stomach and it had you fidgeting as sweat beaded under the collar of your dress.

You had never been far from the capital, you never had the reason or the means. You were further then than you had ever been. The great stone pillars of Hammers Bough rose around you and opened up to the city that marked the threshold of Thunder Lodge.

The oldest of the royal houses, Thunder Lodge was an implacable fortress said to be built on the will of the gods. It had once been the capital until a great storm swept in from the sea and flooded out the city. It had since been rebuilt but the royals and their court had since moved to the current capital of Starseed.

The gates of the royal abode were open as the king’s retinue approached and within, silks hung from the walls bearing the crest of the major houses of the realm. The sky was dimming as the sun began its decline and the August afternoon began to cool. The progression had made good time on the road but still with little time to prepare for the next day’s events.

At the rear of the train, you peered past the horses and the nobles and their carriages as a booming voice broke over the din. The blonde prince greeted his dark-haired brother before he could dismount and nearly pulled him from his saddle with his gruff handshake. Loki righted himself and slid down to his feet. The two men were similar in height, though Thor was twice as broad.

As the lords and their wives, daughters, and sons, began to deploy, you lost sight of the sons of Odin. You were forced from your haze by the servant next to you and you hopped down from the cart as the others began to unload the chests. You joined them, straining beneath the great weight as your skirts bunched between your legs with each bend.

You wiped your dusty hands on your apron as you caught your breath and readied to care a heavy chest up through the servants’ doors with another girl in brown wool. You paused as you caught the eye of the covert guard. He fingered the pommel of his sword as he squinted at you. The dented armor of his disguise did little to disassemble his stature.

You grabbed the leather handle of the chest and heaved it from the dirt. You followed the other girl along the line of servants to the doors. Inside, the resident staff directed the visitors and instructed them according to their master. The servants who had no specific liege, were to remain in the kitchens.

You let the other girl, Hanna, take the lead and left the chest in Lady Ulna’s chambers. You returned to the lower floors and exited through the same doors. Slowly, the toil was thinning as the nobles were welcomed through the front doors.

As you neared the cart, you were caught by your arm and thrust behind it. The armored guard shoved you against the wood as his hand returned to his sword.

“Stay,” he snarled. “Can’t have you getting lost.”

You stared up at him. A dark haired man with broad shoulders and a thick beard beneath his helm. He was similar to Thor in build, perhaps bigger.

“He thinks I will run?”

“He knows you to be a trespasser,” the man shrugged, “It is not beyond you to stray.”

“And you think I could outpace you?” You scoffed. “I haven’t tried upon this journey.”

“There has been little opportunity to do thus and I assure you, you wouldn’t make it two steps beyond my grasp, girl,” he glanced around and watched the other servants. “The king has assigned you as my personal duty. It is not what I’d prefer but I have always served well and you would not stain my reputation.”

You said nothing and crossed your arms as you leaned against the cart. He felt around at his belt and dug out a strip of dried meat from a leather pouch. He chewed and grumbled as the din of voices faded beyond the tall door of the palace and the servants went about their labor.

“Alright, best have you away,” he made to grab you again and you drew away.

“I can follow,” you assured him, “You don’t need to drag me.”

His nostrils flared and he shook his head. “I should like to,” he muttered but didn’t try again as he waved you back down to the servants doors.

Within, he asked a scullery where the king would be lodged and nodded at her directions. He continued on, prodding you back into step and strayed away from the path of other servants.

“She said the other way,” you intoned.

“I know my way,” he growled, “Now, quiet, girl.”

He led you up a winding staircase wordlessly, trailing behind you in his armour. When you reached the top, he ducked through the low archway and led you through the maze like corridors until he happened upon the more lively passages. A pair of doors was open as the guard approached the boy Hal who stood by the frame.

“Magnus,” Hal’s voice cracked as he saw the guard and his eyes peeked at you.

“The king does not want any suspicion. Keep her hidden in the bedchamber as the luggage is unloaded. I will be close.” He nudged you forward. “Hurry, before she is noticed.”

Hal nodded and waved you within. The boy was terrified of the much larger guard and you couldn’t blame him. You stepped through the doors as the servant scurried to open the bedchamber doors. Magnus lingered by the entrance as his armor clinked against the stone.

“Please, miss, the king would be unhappy if you are discovered.” Hal warned. “You must remain and keep quiet.”

You wondered at why such caution was being taken but merely nodded. The boy was only doing his duty and he was surrounded by cruel men. You walked the perimeter of the bedchamber and turned back to him.

“We both know the king to be mean-hearted,” you said, “I will do as you say.”

“I must close the doors,” he said as he retreated.

You tilted your head and spun back. You went to the window as the doors shut with a click. You gazed out from behind the silk drapes and that same stone set in your heart. A foreign prison was no less a trap.

🐍

When the servants finished their work, Hal knocked and asked after you. He was a kind boy, not very talkative, and nearly completely silent in the presence of the king. You affirmed that you were as well as you could be and he left to return with a plate for your supper. You sat at the small round table in the bedchamber as he set down the covered dish.

“What duties await you now?” you asked.

He blanched and blinked. He lowered his head as his muddy brown hair fell over his forehead. “I will wait for the king.”

“Will you sit with me?”

He raised his head and gaped at you. “I don’t-- I don’t know that it is permitted.”

“You are not allowed to speak with me?”

“The king has never said it but I do not… speak with many.” He confessed.

“Oh,” you lifted the lid of the plate, “Well, there is very much food here and I have a small stomach. I will need someone to share with and I must admit, I am lonely for company.”

“I don’t know,” he rubbed his hands together nervously.

“I will take the blame for it, if the king is displeased.” You offered, “What good does it do you sitting in the next room alone?”

His brows drew together and he looked around. Cautiously, he pulled out the other chair and sat. You pushed the plate to the middle of the table and took a chunk of cheese. He shyly took a slice of the thick bread and bit into it. You could see he was nervous. You caught his eyes on you several times and a blush upon his cheeks.

“I’m not a whore,” you said sharply. “The king might put me in the position but… I am just a woman.”

“I didn’t--”

“Well, we both know why I am here but I can’t bear you looking at me so.” You reproached. “I used to make pots and the like. I worked in a shop. I suspect I am little different than you.”

“The king says you are a criminal,” Hal nibbled between words.

“Well, in a sense, yes,” you tapped the table with your fingertips, “I ventured onto castle grounds without permission but it is no great crime.” You bent your arm on the wood and cupped your chin. “Does the king say anything else of me?”

“Not to me,” Hal took a carrot from the plate, “He commands me, that is all.”

“As he does me.” You sat up, “We are both bound to his will.”

The boy glanced away guiltily. “I don’t think you a whore. I’m sorry.”

“It is fine,” you assured him, “I am not offended. I would not share my plate if I was.”

He chewed for a time and took another morsel from the plate. Finally, he dared to look at you again.

“I’ve heard him… hurt you.” Hal said quietly, “You shouldn’t goad him so.”

You chuckled and took a deep breath. “It is not hard to do so.”

“But if you were more amenable--”

“You are young. You can’t understand,” you wiped your hands on your apron, “But my resistance is all I have. And there is nothing the king can offer me but pain, so I’d rather meet it with gull than grace.”

Hal frowned. He thought but only looked more confused. He sniffed and shifted in his seat.

“I should go prepare for the king,” he stood, “He is of little patience when his brother is near.”

“Alright,” you sat back, “I will not mention this to him.”

“Thank you,” Hal neared the door and paused as he looked back. He smiled before he ducked into the receiving chamber and your lips curved slightly in kind. Then his words settled in your mind, ‘prepare for the king’. You would have to deal with Loki eventually.

🐍

The door slammed and had you rigid. You spent the hours since your arrival pacing the room and watching through the window. Hal appeared once more to clear your plate but didn’t say much as he returned to the task of unpacking the king’s luggage.

You heard Loki’s voice from the receiving chamber and you went to the bedroom door. You peered through as he swayed on his feet and Hal struggled to unclasp his cap from his shoulders. The king was barely aware of the boy as he drunkenly smiled at the walls.

Finally, Hal freed the length of green silk and hung it. The king staggered forward and caught himself against the settee. His eyes flicked up and caught yours. He smirked and stood straight. He raised a finger.

“Boy, you can go. I trust I can tend to myself tonight,” Loki declared, “And I have help should I require it.”

Hal bowed his head with a quiet ‘your majesty’. He peeked over at you as he went to the door. He reluctantly left you and the door closed gently in his stead. The king ambled forward and reached out for you as he stumbled. You could only catch him as he threatened to topple.

“Look at you, mouse,” he slurred, “Dressed as a maid. How silly!”

He leaned on you heavily and too afraid to drop him, you turned and angled him into the bedroom. His arms fell down your back and he squeezed your ass through the layers of wool and linen. You grimaced and managed to get him onto one of the chairs. He sat sideways and slumped against the back with an arm bent over the top.

He hiccupped and pushed his legs apart. He swung his leg as he looked at you and hummed.

“Do take off that ridiculous attire,” he slithered, “You will serve me but I expect more than a dusting.”

You stared at him and hesitated. You touched the apron across your front and he sat up and snapped his fingers.

“I am your king!” He proclaimed. “I have bid you undress for me, wench!”

He slapped his thigh and you flinched. You reached back and untied the apron. You turned and tossed it over the low bench against the wall. You undid the straps of your smock and shimmied out of the skirt. You left it atop the apron and removed the long white linen underdress. Your shift slipped easily down your figure as you spun back to him and raised your chin.

You slid your feet from your slippers and rolled down the stockings. You stood naked and glared at him as he admired you. Your crossed your arms as his gaze made you shiver and he grabbed onto the chair as he nearly fell over.

“Here,” he waved you forward with two fingers, “Get me out of this...” he pushed himself to his feet with effort, “Shit!”

His voice warbled between quiet and loud as the alcohol made him clumsy. You crossed to him and his hands clapped your shoulders as he held himself up. You looked up at him as he leaned dangerously and reached up to unbutton the high collar of his overcoat. His hands fluttered up your neck and cradled your face.

He bent and his nose touched yours. He smiled and swayed you with him.

“You’re mad at me.” He sang. “I do love it when you sneer so.”

“I’m not mad,” you worked down the front of his jacket, “You need to stand straight so I can get this off.”

“I can hear it in your voice,” he stood and let his arms drop so you could push the brocade down them. “Or perhaps you are impatient. You wish a repeat of our last meeting.” He snickered, “Does your cunt ache for me?”

You tore his coat off entirely and strode away to hang it over a chair. When you returned to him, he bent for you to remove his tunic and his hands grazed you sides.

“I did expect a slap for that one,” he taunted, “I will only have to try harder…” He looked down, “Speaking of hard.”

His trousers tented as you unlaced them. He sat for you to slide his boots off with his socks and stood again as you pushed his leggings down. His erect member was hard to ignore as he was completely naked and unstable. You looked him in the face and narrowed your eyes.

“I am not angry at you because I despise you already,” you said, “It is hatred you feel from me.”

He chuckled and pulled you to him, his arms around your waist as he pressed himself to you.

“You hate what I make you feel because you are too proud to admit that you want me,” he purred, “And too afraid of what you’ve never known.”

“Oh, let go of me, you drunken fool,” you pushed on his arms. “You are like to have us both on the floor.”

He winked and slapped your ass again. He drew away but took your hand as he did. He neared the bed and sloppily snuffed the lamp with a blow. The chamber was dark as he flopped onto the mattress and dragged you down beside him. You snarled as he rolled you against him and stretched your arm across him. His other hand danced over the scars along your back.

“I am drunk,” he admitted and played with your hand, “I had to imbibe to bear my brother’s nonsense.” He guided your hand down and closed it around his cock. “And I do require a release as I find myself riled.”

You gripped him but did not move your hand as his fell away. You breathed darkly over his chest and his other arm hugged you tighter.

“Would you rather your mouth?” He taunted, he slipped his arm beneath yours and turned his body slightly, “Or you do long for reciprocity?”

He pushed his fingers between your legs and found your bud. You squeezed your thighs against him and he rubbed you roughly.

“Go on, don’t just hold it,” he hissed as toyed with you.

Slowly, you moved your hand up and down his length. Your legs twitched as your cunt slickened beneath his touch. He explored your folds as he held you to him and you stroked him almost without thought. Your hand kept time with him as he lured you to the edge and dangled you there. His breath smelled of wine as his grazed your skin and he pressed his nose against your hair.

“Come on,” he whispered, “Almost there.”

He shoved his hand between your legs and felt along your entrance. He pushed a finger inside and you gasped. Your rhythm faltered but he urged you on with a groan. You were too overwhelmed to stop. That unearthly delight began to gather in your loins, deeper as he slid another finger into and rocked his hand against your clit.

You rasped, then moaned, and felt his body begin to quake. The noise of your wet cunt underlined your heady pants and he had you on your back as he turned onto his side and kept you against him. Your legs splayed open around his hand and your eyes lolled back in your head.

You exclaimed as your walls clenched his fingers and you came. He climaxed in quick succession as warmth seeped down your palm and coated his member. He spasmed and pulled away from you as he grew overly sensitive but kept his fingers inside of you. He stilled his hand and sunk to his knuckles as he explored your depths.

“I can only imagine how you’ll feel around my cock,” he said. “But I should like to remember the first.”

He slipped his hand away from your cunt and sighed as he rolled onto his back. He lifted his fingers to his lips and licked them. He purred and sucked them clean before trailing down to his pelvis. He tutted.

“I am a mess,” he said, “You’ve made a mess of me.”

You sat up, trembling and turned to climb off the bed. “I will fetch a cloth then--”

“You will not,” he grabbed your arm as you held your wet hand aloft. “You will clean me up yourself.”

“Wha--”

“Your mouth,” he pushed your hand towards your face. “Taste me.”

You stared at the silhouette of your hand in horror. You hoped he could not see your face. You gulped and brought your hand to your lips. You touched your finger with the tip of your tongue and reluctantly dragged it over your skin. He released you and pushed himself up on his elbows as he watched you in the dim.

One, two, three, four fingers and your thumb. You lowered your hand in shame and he nodded at his loins. You stifled a grumble and bent over him. His cum had cooled and was sticky as you closed your eyes to the revolting task. He groaned as you tried not to hear him and when you finished, he pet your head like an obedient dog.

“Ah,” he sighed and drew you up against him once more, “I feel it. You are mad now.” He yawned and tickled your hip, “Perhaps we might take it up on the morrow.”

“You are vile,” you sneered.

He snickered and pinched your ass. “I never denied such a claim, little mouse.”

#loki #dark!loki #dark loki #loki x reader #fic #dark!fic #dark fic #mcu #marvel #thor #by the king's hand #series #medieval #medieval au #medieval!au #king!loki

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dracosaurusrex · 4 years

Text

The Unraveling

Part 2 to Notebook!

Summary: Where house rivalry begins to crumble and attraction begins to bloom

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Gryffindor!reader

A/N: I just want to say thank you so much to all those who’ve shown support for the notebook! I didn’t really expect much from it, but it makes me so happy to know that it was enjoyable :) It seems that there will be another part to this, so I’ll definitely be brainstorming. Hopefully this one is just as good as the first. Once again, feedback is very much appreciated!

——————————————

Prior to meeting you, Draco only knew you by face--small glimpses of your face, that is. Your name had been thrown around here and there, but it was never enough to conjure any thought or interest within him. You were merely another student at Hogwarts who so happened to be in Gryffindor. Nothing more, nothing less. It was never in his mind that he’d ever become so intrigued by your presence, making the boy recall the first assignment you’d ever work on together.

----------------------------------------------------

The duration of your transfiguration class was coming to a close, and by now everyone was chattering amongst their friends, allowing the information that had been taught to slip away. McGonagall drew their attention once more for a final announcement.

“Before you leave today, I will be partnering you up for a group assignment: An essay on vanishing charms. Please listen for your names! Once I call you, you may go!”

The professor was going through her list swiftly. You faced Ginny in hopes that you’d be paired up with her, however that was dashed when McGonagall associated her name with Seamus’s. A frown was plastered on your face, ‘Damn. Who could my partner be?’

“Draco Malfoy, you’ll be working with Y/N Y/L/N.” You immediately felt your mood fall even more. With disappointment, you slung your bag over your shoulder, stood up, and took a brief glance at your partner before making your way to the door. You didn’t know what to expect out of this experience. You were aware of the boy through the eyes of your friends, but you never actually engaged with him before. Because of this, your first impression of him leaned towards the more negative side.

You weren’t thinking about anything except getting to your next class until you heard a shout, “Y/L/N! Library! Lunch!” Turning to the boy, you signalled an “ok” and gave a forced smile before walking away again. Draco stared at your figure as it grew further and further away down the hallway.

“Blaise, do you know anything about Y/L/N? She has quite the attitude doesn’t she?” He asked, slightly annoyed with your nonchalant behavior.

“Oh her? Pretty sure she’s friends with Potter and his bunch. Also known for being bloody good in transfiguration and DADA within our year. What’s it to you?”

Draco shrugged, “Never heard of her before. We’re paired for this essay.”

“Are you bothered that she's not giving you much attention as her other friends?” Blaise retorted while Draco scowled in response.

“I’ve got to be really desperate to want attention from someone like her.”

He made his way to his own class with Blaise following him shortly. He was confused by how indifferent you were to his presence. If you were really a part of the Gryffindor bunch, then surely you would have the same views as them when it came to him...right? Deciding to assume so, he continued on with his day without giving it too much thought.

You were released from your class a little earlier before lunch started, so you made your way to the library, hoping to get started right away on the research. Once you got there, you were met with an empty hall and the scent of old books--a comforting scent, really.

You weaved your way through countless shelves until you found yourself in the reference section. With your focus concentrated on your essay topic, you selected books you thought would be useful. Unknowingly, you’ve begun to accumulate a stack of books, so much so that you weren’t aware of the presence of a particular platinum-haired boy.

Draco cleared his throat, “You really think we’re going to need all that?” The suddenness of the occasion made you jump and stumble backwards as you held your hand over your chest.

“Merlin, Draco! Give me a warning, won’t you?” You closed your eyes. You were so startled at the moment that you didn’t realize how easy it was for you to say his name. You made a mental note to watch yourself more carefully. To your surprise, however, the boy let out a light chuckle (oddly enough, he liked the way it sounded from you). When you looked up at him, you couldn’t help but notice how warm he looked. It was different from his usual demeanor, but you welcomed it, giving a slight smile.

“Well we can’t get any work done if you plan to keep sitting there, Y/L/N” Scratch that. There he was.

“Well maybe if you helped me carry these books instead of standing there, we’d get to a table faster.” You said sarcastically. You handed him two of the texts and stood up with the rest. It didn’t occur to you how close he was until your eyes were met with his due to the small proximity. ‘Silver, how pretty’. The both of you felt a weird heat flush against your cheeks, a slight skip in heartbeat, and a certain difference in the air around you. To abolish the awkwardness you cleared your throat and apologized, starting to look for a table that was available. You settled for one that was near the window. The sunlight that shined through it looked really beautiful from afar.

Without any hesitation, the two of you settled. Draco sat himself in the seat next to yours, while placing the books in the space in front of him. You imitated his actions and went to work right away. Once you opened the covers, you were absorbed into your own world. With a piece of parchment resting beside you, you took your quill and began taking your notes on pieces of information that you felt were important. You were so concentrated that you didn’t notice the gaze that the boy had fixed on you.

Draco had only known you through brief passings in the hallways. He’d known you as a classmate, as a Gryffindor. But today--with the way the sunlight was casted on your hair and facial features--this was the first time he actually noticed you. The sight of your focused expression was enhanced by the way the sun illuminated your cheeks, how it graced your eyelids, even the way it softly landed on your lips. You looked ethereal, beautiful, far beyond than he expected. That moment was only for his eyes. He took a mental picture of it.

He also took notice of the way your hair was falling in front of you. He then mindlessly reached out to you and tucked the strand of hair behind your ear, making your eyes go wide. A blush threatened to spread across your cheeks again.

It took Draco a second before realizing what he had just done. Keeping in mind his reputation, he straightened up, struggling to string words together.

“Don’t get me wrong Y/L/N. That random strand was itching to be pulled back.” He turned his attention to the book in front of him.

“Ah...thanks. I guess.” Your hand gripped your quill a little tighter as you tried to process what the heck just happened as well as why you were getting so impacted by his actions. Both of your hearts were pounding now.

Perhaps it was because of the fact that the way he acted just now didn’t seem like the same person who would mercilessly bully others, let alone your friends. No. Instead, he was warm, and it shocked you. You definitely did not expect this from him. In fact, you wanted to question why he was acting like this, but you knew that deep in your heart you actually liked it yourself. Coming to the conclusion that the question was just a waste of energy, you shoved it in the back of your mind.

A few more minutes of writing had passed, and you took a look at the parchment, proud of the progress you’ve made so far. Out of nowhere, your stomach let out a huge growl, inducing a smirk coming from Draco.

“It seems that someone’s hungry.”

“Well what do you expect? It’s lunch and I haven’t eaten all day. I was kind of looking forward to the menu today, y’know?” You cradled your stomach, trying to shush it from making any more noise. The way your lips formed into a pout made the boy’s heart flip. He thought to himself, ‘What the hell is going on with me?’

Suddenly remembering the cookie he snagged from breakfast that morning, he took out the small form of sustenance and chucked it to you.

“There. Hope you like chocolate chip.” This topped it for you. You were practically stunned by how sweet this boy was at this very moment.

Without thinking you asked him anyway, “Why are you being so nice to me? I’m not really familiar to this side of you.”

He glanced at you and plainly stated, “You’re weird that’s why.”

‘Well gee, thanks.’ You thought. You rolled your eyes and smiled at his kind gestures. It was awkward and clumsy, but it slowly untangled the first impressions you had of the boy. You decided to tease him because of this.

“Draco Malfoy, soft? I’m not used to it, but I think it suits you.” You said smiling at him. It was different from the forced smile you gave earlier. He never would admit it, but at that instance he felt the desire to keep that smile in his life.

“Don’t get too used to it, Gryffindork.”

“You have my word, Slytherin.” You raised your right hand before unwrapping the cookie and breaking it in half. “Here, you must’ve been waiting to eat it.” You said, offering his piece to him. He took it with a small smile, and you two basked in the moment.

There was a first for everything, and without giving the scene any more thought, the both of you had begun noticing one another from that point on.

part 1

A/N: So, what’d you think?? My goal for this chapter was to portray Draco in a way that was slightly closer to his portrayal in the movie. I personally feel like if he wants to show kindness then he would. Maybe not in the way that is typical, but rather in his own Draco kind of way. IDKKKKK aha. Well I hope you enjoyed!

Taglist: @m-winchester-67 @bbeauttyybbx @un-limit-edd @poetontheblock @tttyrus @stretchyice

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged :D

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notyetneedcoffee · 4 years

Text

Date Nights 4

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Smut

New Naughty Series

Steve sat back listening to Tony and Bruce review the latest tech integration they were offering to the New York officials. They made plans for training sessions at the Tower and up at the Avengers Compound. The group got together on a quarterly basis so the atmosphere was friendly and conversations ran long.

By the time Steve made his way to your apartment in Stark Tower, the sun had set. Only it wasn’t lights of the city to immediately draw his attention, it was the fire burning in the kitchen. He’d just seen the glint of the flames on the counter top.

“What-“

“Hey,” You stood up from where you pulled items out of the fridge. “How’d it go?”

“Mmm, fine. What’s all this? Some sort of science experiment?” Steve leaned closer and kissed you. He motioned to the array of cut up bread, fruit, and cheeses around the funny looking pots and burning cans in frames.

You motioned to the little slip of paper. He picked it up to read. “Cook something fun for dinner.”

“Okay.” A slow smile spread over his face. He slid behind you, arms wrapping around your middle. His lips trailed warm kisses along your neck as you tipped your head to give him more access. “So what’s for dinner?”

“Fondue.”

He froze.

You shifted to look at his face. The far away look on face making you frown. Steve’s eyes refocused on you. Slowly his lip curved up in a small smile. “You know after all these years of hearing about it, I’ve never actually had fondue.”

You knew there was something more to the look in Steve’s eyes, but you let it go.

“Okay. Well, this is going to take a little longer. Why don’t you get settled in and clear the coffee table. We’re going to eat there.”

Twenty minutes later you set up a spread on the coffee table. One fondue pot held a gooey melted cheese concoction surrounded by pieces of bread, sliced filet mignon, and roasted potato fingerlings. The other fondue pot held rich chocolate surrounded by strawberries, apples, pretzels, and pieces of pound cake. Steve set two cushions on the floor beside the table, lowered the lights and put on his favorite old music.

“Steve,” You brought the wine into the living room.

He came out of the bedroom. Your breath caught. He wore just his dark blue draw-string pajama bottoms. They hung low on his hips, giving you a beautiful view of his Adonis belt and that delicious trail of hair from his belly button down.

You swallowed a mouthful of wine before setting it on the table. You shimmied off your yoga pants and tossed them aside, leaving you in just a loose v-neck cotton tee. A slow sexy smile spread over Steve’s face as you lowered down to the cushions and held out a hand for him.

Taking one of the skewers, you dipped a piece of the tender steak into the cheese and held it out for Steve. He opened his mouth, eating what you offered. His eyes fell closed and a delightful noise rumbled from his chest.

“That is really good.” He moaned through a mouthful. Steve prepared a bite for you. “Try it.”

You took a bite of the rich cheesy covered beef. You’d followed a recipe, but it did come out really very good. Steve dipped a piece of bread in and smiled. He watched you eat with a grin. When a drip of cheese slipped over your lip, he was quick to lean in an lick the spot clean.

“This is good.” You gave up the skewer, dipping the bread in with your fingers.

Steve took your hand, sucking the cheese from your fingertips. “And fun.”

By the time you got to dessert, the two of you sat close together with legs entwined. Steve’s large hand cupped the side of your ass as you fed him bits of chocolate covered fruit. You tipped your head back, finishing your wine and his mouth attached to your neck.

Steve pulled you fully onto his lap. Your legs wrapped around his waist. The thin cotton of his bottoms doing nothing to disguise your wet heat as you rubbed along his length. His hands ran up the skin of your back, pushing the shirt over head. His kiss was deep, wet, and hungry.

You moaned into his mouth as his fingers dug into your ass as he rutted up against you. Combing your fingers through his hair, he growled as you tugged. Steve rose onto his knees and laid on the floor, sitting back to take in your naked body.

“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart.” Steve smiled. He dipped his fingers in the cooling chocolate. “You know, this stuff is really decadent.”

Sucking in a breath, your back arched as he painted your nipples with the chocolate. He sucked the sweet mess clean, nipping at your sensitive skin. Your fingers dug into his shoulders. “Oh shit, Steve.”

His mouth traveled lower, across your belly and over your hip. Steve lifted your leg, kissing along your inner thigh. Fingers slipped over you, spreading your wetness. You watched his face, marveled at the intensity in his eyes just before his lids closed and his mouth covered you.

A deep satisfied hum rumbled from his chest as his tongue lapped over your sex, as he sucked upon your clit and drew desperate whines from your throat. The fingers of his right hand joined his tongue and you began to quiver. Your legs curled up over Steve’s shoulders. He grasped your thighs, hungrily pushing you over the edge.

Tension coiled low in your belly. Toes curled. Muscles shook. You writhed, but he held you down. So intense. He growled, mouth latched to your clit. You came apart with a cry. “Fuck!”

Steve lapped up all you had to offer. He climbed up your body, kissing and smiling at you with satisfaction. You hook a leg around him and he let you flip him onto his back. Coaxing him to lift his hips, you crawled down, pulling his bottoms off.

It was your turn to take in the gorgeous view of him, laid out naked and aroused. You crawled closer, between his knees, running your hands up his strong legs. You leaned over, trailing open mouth kisses over his hip and abdomen. Steve watched, mouth slightly open. He groaned as your hand wrapped around the base of his cock.

Your eyes locked with his as you ran your tongue along the length of him. “Damn, Sweetheart. So sexy.”

He dropped his head to the carpet with a moaned “fuck” as you took him in your mouth and began to suck on him. You felt his hand touch your head, fingers run through your hair, as your head bobbed and you pushed his cock to the back of your throat.

“Oh, shit, baby.” He finally began to pull at you. “Come ‘ere. Please.”

Smiling, spittle covering your chin, you kissed your way up his magnificent chest until you straddled him. Rolling your very wet core over the length of him, you playfully nipped at his neck. “Is this what you want?”

“Yes.” He sighed.

“Yeah?” You kissed him deeply, rubbing against him but not giving him what he wanted.

“Want to fuck you. Sink down on my cock.” Steve growled against your lips. His grip on you hips tightened.

“Love that only I get to hear what a filthy mouth you have.” You rolled your hips, feeling the stretch as lowered on to him. Rocking slow, taking in more each time you lowered down, you watched Steve’s brow bunch up and pant through open lips.

“Feels so good.” Steve looked down where he was buried deep in you. “Oh, shit. Look at that.”

His fingers dug into your hips, lifting you a little higher as he brought his feet flat on on the floor. Moving you more than you riding him, Steve began to fuck up into you, fast, harder. He watched your tits bounce as you reached back to balance your hands on his knees.

“Steve!” You panted as his cock hit just the perfect spot. “Oh shit!”

His hips slammed up. Hands pulled you to him with bruising strength, knocking the breath from you. Your body shook. A flush blossomed over your chest.

“Yes!” He groaned, feeling you clench around him. “Come for me, baby. Fuck, so good!”

You did. A breathless scream on your face, body quivering, heat exploded. A deep, nearly feral noise escaped Steve’s throat as he followed you over the edge. You fell forward, sprawled boneless over his chest. His arms wrapped around you, as he rock into you, riding out the orgasm.

His fingertip traced your spine as your breath returned to normal. You felt boneless. He was so warm, smelled so good. Lazily you tipped you head up to kiss along his jaw. He hummed with a content sigh.

“I think I may have left bruises on you, Sweetheart.” Steve mumbled. “Didn’t mean to grip you so hard.”

“Not complaining.” You sighed, a smile in your voice. “So worth it.”

Steve started to laugh, making bounce on his chest.

“What?” You pulled back enough to see his smiling face.

“I knew I’d like fondue.”

TAGS

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#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction

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emmelineparker308 · 4 years

Text

Father Dearest Part 4

Fandom: Harry Potter: Golden Trio Era Pairing: Harry Potter x reader Summary: Your third year at Hogwarts is about to start and with it come a lot of new changes. Harry, your best friend and crush, is in trouble from some man named Sirius Black. You try desperately to keep Harry safe but what happens when you find out some heartbreaking, mind shattering information about your father? Warnings: angst, long writing lol! A/N: Enjoy! Please like and reblog if you like it!!

“Did you hear about what happened to (Y/L/N) during DADA?”

“Oh my god, do you think that she is being abused at home?”

“I knew it, I knew that there was something off about her.”

These were the whispers that followed you around for the rest of the week. Harry, Ron and Hermione would throw a dirty look at anyone that even dared to look at you wrong and maybe due to that, and the fact that other more threatening news was flooding Hogwarts, the incident that occurred in the DADA class was forgotten from almost everyone’s mind.

The only thing you had been looking forward to after Moony’s class was Hagrid’s first lesson. Looking forward to it seems to be too happy a phrase to use. You had heard from Fred and George who already had their Care for Magical Creatures class that Hagrid had them caring for some crazy dangerous creatures. In fact, most of the castle was muttering about Hagrid’s lessons and you were apprehensive of what monstrous creature Hagrid would introduce to your lot. To make matters worse the Gryffindors were paired with the Slytherins for Magical Creatures. After the encounter in Lupin’s class Malfoy had been a bit more reserved in talking back in class but you were sure his tongue was going to wag in Hagrid’s class. As you made your way down to Hagrid’s hut you found that the Slytherin Prince was already there, barking all sorts of rubbish that is puny crew was lapping up. Pansy Parkinson, a toad of a girl, was hanging on every word that drew from his lips.

“Wait till my father hears about this, that Dumbledore’s got this oaf teaching class. Honestly this whole school is going to hell,” he stated disgustingly as Hagrid was fixing something up in his garden. Harry who heard the remark turned around fuming, you had to grip his arm and hold him back before he launched himself a Malfoy.

“What is it Potter? Got something to say?” he taunted Harry.

“Last I checked your father was sacked from being a governor of Hogwarts after threatening the other governors. So, having your now unemployed father hear about the news of Hagrid’s post doesn’t really carry that much weight,” you recounted as the gryffindors sniggered and Malfoy turned red. You knew that the Malfoy’s were rich beyond measure and that his father technically didn’t need a job to survive, however it still managed to bruise Malfoy’s ego.

“At least I have a father, what was it that the boggart said? Right, ‘You’re scum, and I never wanted you’,” Malfoy stated smirking at the effect those words had on you. You froze up beside Harry, and Harry seizing the chance of you letting go of his arm grabbed his wand and threw a spell at Malfoy.

Malfoy was about to retaliate when Hagrid came walking towards you booming, “What’s goin on ‘ere? You lot be’er not be causin’ ‘rouble ‘his early in.” Hagrid lead you into a clearing at the edge of the forest and went on to explain what the lesson was for today.

You who had been beaming at him to show your support felt a pricking sensation in the back of your head. It was a sensation you had grown accustomed to over the past summer, a feeling of being watched. You didn’t know what it was but the past summer when you were taking your nighttime walks or when you were running errands for Remus on the weeks of the full moon you would feel this weird sensation. Nothing ever came of it, you would turn around constantly, checking your surroundings yet you would find nothing, no one was watching you. You didn’t want to alarm Remus, who (you were sure) would lock you up in the house all summer had you disclosed this information to him.

The feeling stopped the last few weeks of summer vacation, you were sure that due to all the excitement and busyness of packing up for Hogwarts you mind simply didn’t have time to make you feel uneasy. However, the feeling was back, you instinctively turned around, you were met with nothing but trees and shrubs. There was a slight rustling of a shrub but just then a sudden breeze had started from nowhere and you heard Harry scream. When you turned your attention back to the class you saw Harry riding on a Hippogriff. Had Harry not looked like he was going to vomit, the site would have been majestic. You knew all about the hippogriffs having stumbled across an old Care for Magical Creatures textbook of Moony’s. You were slightly jealous that Harry got to ride one, and even more impressed at Hagrid for not showing a dangerous creature. Sure, the Hippogriffs may look intimidating, and yes they can cause serious harm but that’s only if you were daft enough to disrespect them.

As Harry touched down, you along with the rest of the Gryffindors cheered. Harry was placed back onto the ground by Hagrid and you were about to get his attention to ask for a ride yourself when Malfoy pushed you out of the way. Thankfully, Dean was able to catch you before you met the floor. “Yeah, you’re not scary at all are you, you big chicken,” you heard Malfoy confidently strut to the Hippogriff. Before any of you could stop it, Malfoy was attacked, and Hagrid was fussing over him saying that Malfoy would be fine. It took ‘Mione and you to scream that Malfoy needs to go to the hospital wing for Hagrid to snap out of his panic and carry the oaf who was now moaning in pain. Dean who had been holding you still, let go of you almost as if you were made of hot iron and apologized under his breath and sprinted to catch up with Seamus.

You were about to yell out thank to Dean for catching you when you turned around and realized the reason for Dean’s sudden odd behavior. Harry was still watching Dean with an emotion that you were not able to place filling the green irises that you were so familiar with.

“How much trouble do you reckon Hagrid’s gonna be in?” Ron asked as you all made your way towards the castle.

“I don’t know. Knowing Malfoy’s father, we haven’t heard the last of this,” you somberly stated.

The next few weeks went by in a blur, Malfoy moaned over his arm, which in your opinion had nothing wrong with it. You saw him catch a piece of parchment you had thrown at him with his bandaged hand without so much a thought, or a bit of pain. He just put on a show whenever he thought people weren’t paying enough attention to him. The oaf. Urgh. You would purposely throw things at him and place heavy books atop his “broken arm” whenever you had the chance. Alright you suppose it was very mean to laugh in his misery but in your opinion had he just listened to Hagrid’s instructions nothing would have happened. Hagrid obviously felt awful and kept apologizing, but Malfoy was still a git about it. He was going on and on about how he was going to have Hagrid sacked and Buckbeak killed. Once he said it very loudly in front of Hagrid that it brought the happy giant man to tears. You, being the ever so kind and patient person, you were, “accidentally” pushed Malfoy into Bowtruckle dung while he was still laughing getting dung even into his mouth.

Aside from Malfoy there was a rather awkward situation that occurred between Harry, McLaggen and you. McLaggen was a showy upperclassman, he was the epitome of the stereotypical Gryffindor. Tough, and brash, but not exactly the brightest of the bunch. He stalked up to you during one morning, chest puffed out and toothy grin plastered over his face. To you he resembled more of an ape than a boy but that didn’t stop some girls from eyeing him. “Hey (Y/N),” he charmed as he pushed Harry and you apart and sat down between you.

“Top of the Mornin’ to ya, McLaggen,” you sarcastically stated. Harry and Ron snickered at the disinterest in your voice but McLaggen clearly didn’t get the hint (again nOt tHe bRiGhTeSt bUlB)

“Listen so the Hogsmeade trip is coming up,” he started.

“Is it? I didn’t know you could read a calendar,” you retorted but he chose to ignore your statement.

“I know that this is your first trip to Hogsmeade and for a bird it’s just sad to go alone. I know that you’re probably fretting over it but not to worry, you to accompany me,” he finished his proposition. You were actually dumbfounded for a second at his remark. He hadn’t even asked you out, he told you that you can go with him.

“McLaggen, though I’m sure that would be, er- well fun isn’t the right word, tolerable, it would be tolerable. I will not be going alone. However, if I ever find the need to be in the company of a donkey, I’ll let you know,” you hotly stated and walked away.

“Mate she just called you an arse,” you faintly heard George bellow out over the laughter that filled the Great Hall.

Soon it was time for your first ever Hogsmeade trip. You offered to stay with Harry when you realized that he wouldn’t be able to go with you, but he told you to go have fun. While on the way to Hogsmeade you noticed Ron nervously looking at you, he always looked like he wanted to say something but after sneaking a peak at Hermione he opted to stay quiet. Once you got to the village even Hermione started acting odd, glaring at you every once in a while. Upon getting the clue, you jogged on ahead of them, citing that you wanted to buy Harry something and went into Zonko’s Joke shop. As you made your way out of Honeyduke’s you felt an arm wrap around you, but no one was near. Vanilla and Pine Cones. “Harry, no way, how?”

“Fred and George gave me this wicked map,” he explained getting out of his cloak. “It showed me a great route to take without alerting Filch.”

“Great. I was starting to get bored. Let’s go into Three Broomsticks and get a butterbeer. I’ve never tried one,” you stated while dragging him along with you.

“Where’s Ron and Hermione?” Harry asked as you found an empty booth in the corner. Madame Rosmerta, the bartender had given you a rather weird look when you went to counter to place the order.

“They were acting odd once they got here. I decided to leave them alone,” you stated. Your butterbeers came and you both drank the liquid, letting it fill you with warmth. You dragged Harry around with you through the entire village. From Honeyduke’s Harry brought enough sweets to last till Christmas, you had made a comment on it when he said that more than half of it was for you. From Zonko’s you brought Ron the Screaming Yo-Yo he had mentioned wanting. You even walked over to Madam Pudifoot’s but one look at the pink exterior and you pulled Harry with you in the opposite direction.

“Harry,” Hermione exclaimed, as Ron and she came out of the joke shop. Ron looked rather glum until you handed him your package. He opened it and almost tackled you onto the ground in a hug.

Hermione rolled her eyes at the action and kept talking to Harry, “How did you get here?”

“Never mind how,” Ron laughed, “Harry, we’ve got to go into Zonko’s there’s some wicked stuff in there for pranks.” As Hermione hit Ron, you noticed Madame Rosmerta outside of her pub.

“Hey ‘Mione, look who it is,” you diverted their attention to the bartender who was talking to the Minister of Magic, he was looking rather intimidated by her antics. You looked over at Ron who was very red in the face as Hermione took to teasing him about his crush on dear old Rossie.

“Sirius Black?” you heard her say over the chipper of the crowd. Almost immediately you felt movement from you back and you knew Harry was making a beeline for Three Broomsticks. Without another thought you placed an invisibility charm on yourself and walked in Harry’s footsteps.

“Sirius Black? Come now Minerva why would he be coming to Hogsmeade of all places?” you heard Rosmerta ask as McGonagall started to explain the horrendous crimes that Black did. You huddled in a corner far away from everyone in the room but still close enough to hear the conversation. You felt a warm presence next to you that you guessed to be Harry.

“In the darkest times, when James and Lily Potter had to go into hiding Sirius Black was appointed as their secret keeper. He was the only one in the world that knew about their whereabouts, and when it came time to, he betrayed them,” McGonagall explained as tears welled up in your eyes.

Poor Harry must be going through a tsunami of emotions right now, you worried. Knowing that Sirius Black was after him was one thing but now realizing that he was the sole reason his parents were killed must be doing a number on him. You could tell he was shaking, and you felt around for his arm and held on to it.

“So, you think what? That he wants to finish the job You-Know-Who started and kill the boy?” Rosmerta questioned.

McGonagall’s lips stretched into the thinnest line you had ever seen, “Rosmerta the fact of the matter is that he still remains Harry’s godfather. Not only that, that poor girl (Y/N), she has no clue of course.” Your head was spinning from all the revelation that was happening but at your name your ears perked up.

“Oh, that lovely doll, the one with brown eyes and black hair,” Rosmerta added, “I just saw her in my shop, she’s a splitting image of her mum, it made me tear up a bit. I will say her eyes and that hair, that she got from her father. She reminds me so much of her mother, even smiles the same way. (Y/L/N) was such a wonderful woman.”

“”Metra, my dear,” Fudge interrupted, “The lass has no idea that her mother was Estella (Y/L/N) and that her father is Sirius Black.”

Taglist: @missmulti @may-machin @magicalaquarian @junkersandroadies-son @prongsyy @cute-but-weirdo @lozzybowe @minecraftlover444 @selmeuuh @play-morezeppelin @ilovespideyyy @wecouldbreakthedistance

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fisheoctrashdump · 3 years

Text

Grinding metal met Drew's ears, pulling him out of the light sleep he'd finally fallen into. As his senses came alive, the strain on his shoulders made him groan. He couldn't find the strength to move, even with his mind screaming at him to do so. He looked around the room as best he could, but without his glasses, everything appeared to be one blurry, dark mass.

"Good morning, Silas."

Drew tensed at the sound of his voice. He felt his fingertips on his shoulder before his entire body pressed into Drew's from behind. Drew hissed as the pain his shoulders worsened, and halfheartedly struggled against the metal cuffs his hands were bound together with.

His arms were around Drew's waist now. A gentle kiss was planted on Drew's neck. He felt the hot breath of his owner as a small chuckle escaped. Drew held back a whimper by biting his bottom lip, feeling the chapped skin against his tongue.

"Relax. I'm not mad anymore."

Drew exhaled. "I can tell."

"Then why so tense?"

You know exactly why, Drew thought.

He remained silent as Gleb began to release Drew's hands. The first one removed was excruciating. Drew cried out as his arm fell at his side. The pain in his shoulder was worse. As the second hand was removed, Drew felt the strength leave his legs.

He fell to his knees, trembling. A sound of irritation came from behind him. Drew kept his gaze on the ground below him as Gleb stepped lightly in a half circle, pausing once he was in front of Drew.

"Look at me," Gleb demanded.

Drew slowly lifted his head, blinking away the tears forming in his eyes. I'm not crying today, he told himself.

Gleb scoffed at Drew. He pushed a smile across his lips as he crouched down until he and Drew were eye level.

"It's still there."

Drew's gaze hardened, but he didn't speak.

"You'll give up eventually. I'll make you forget about him."

He reached out to caress Drew's cheek with the back of his hand. Slowly, he moved his hand to the back of Drew's head. He curled his fingers into a fist, a bunch of Drew's hair gathered up in the process. Gleb stood, pulling Drew to his feet with him.

Gleb leaned forward slowly, never releasing his hold on Drew's hair. He paused when his lips were next to Drew's ear.

"He's already forgotten about you, too." A pause. "No one is going to help you, Silas. No one."

Gleb planted a gentle kiss on Drew's cheek as he slowly loosened his grip on his hair. He gradually slid his hand down Drew's back.

"Anyway," Gleb began, using his free hand to grip Drew's jaw, "we've wasted enough time already. You have a lot of apologizing to do for yesterday."

Gleb paused, smirking at the flash of an expression he noticed on Drew's face.

"You did want to make it up to me, right?"

Drew swallowed dryly. He opened his mouth, but it took several long moments before a bitter "yes" was spoken.

Gleb's expression hardened.

Drew forcefully lightened his tone. "Yes. Please, I would love to. Thank you."

It was an eternity before he felt ready, but Drew opened his eyes slowly. He felt the warmth of his tears on his cheek as lowered his hands away from the sides of his head. Several worried looks from familiar faces painted the room around him. Although, this only made him feel worse.

He mumbled an apology as he wiped his eyes on the collar of his shirt. Lillie stood the closest to him. She had a hand outstretched towards him, but never touching.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

Drew forced a smile as more tears left his eyes. "Yeah, totally."

Lillie lowered her hand and watched Drew worriedly. "Do you need to talk?"

"Oh, no. No, I'm fine." He turned his gaze to the others in the room. "Really."

Lincoln and Yoh exchanged brief glances. Ash stood behind the two looking almost as rattled as Drew felt.

"Maybe you should take a break," Lincoln suggested. "We can finish up."

"No, it's… it's okay."

"Lincoln made it sound like you have a choice in this, but you really don't," Lillie said. "Go sit down. I mean it."

Drew frowned. I don't want to be alone right now, he thought. He couldn't bring himself to say this, though. He barely nodded before leaving the room with his head down.

Drew found his way to the bathroom. Locking the door behind him was all the signal his body needed to let it out. Drew leaned against the door as he felt himself fall apart. Fresh tears left his eyes until he was coughing and gasping for air.

No one is going to help me, he thought. This is my fault. I'm a burden to them.

Ash left their bed for the sixth time that night. It was getting late, but they were determined to sneak out before she got back. They couldn't fall asleep again like the last time.

They cautiously turned the doorknob and pulled the door open. As they peered down the stairs, they could hear the voices of their parents from the living room. The light from the television partially flooded the staircase. Ash exhaled and returned to their prison of a room. They were starting to feel hopeless.

I should've known tonight would be exactly the same, they thought.

Ash searched their room silently for anything that could be useful. They paused when their gaze landed on the window. An idea entered their mind, but Ash wasn't sure if it was worth the risk. They walked over to the window and examined the distance between the window and the ground below it. They paused, considering their options. Maybe an emergency room visit would be the better idea.

Ash took a few deep breaths as they unlatched the window, and began to pull it open. They stared vacantly outside, but couldn't bring themself to move.

"What are you doing?"

Ash jumped, whipping their head towards the door where… she now stood.

"I… am…" Ash stared wide eyed at Erika.

Erika glared darkly at Ash as she stormed across the room. She pushed Ash aside and slammed the window.

Ash shrank into the corner of their room, looking up at Erika silently.

"I'm not in the mood for this." Erika turned her head to look down as Ash. They watched each other for several moments. Ash was wishing to disappear, but they knew that wouldn't happen.

"Take off your clothes."

Ash slowly put their arms around themself and shook their head.

"Really? You're going to do this again?" Erika dropped to her knees. "Do it. Now."

Ash's eyes filled with tears, but they still refused to move. They whispered a barely audible "please", but this only angered Erika more.

Erika lunged forward and grabbed Ash's wrists. She pulled their arms down by their sides and kissed Ash. Ash began to struggle against Erika, but she gripped their wrists tighter and kissed them more forcefully.

When she lifted her head away, Ash began to sob. This made Erika pause momentarily. She slowly ran a hand through Ash's hair, and her expression softened.

"Don't cry, Willow. It's okay." She released Ash's other wrist and placed her hands on both sides of Ash's face. "I love you. No one else cares about you, but I do. I always have."

Ash whimpered loudly and closed their eyes. They didn't want to look at Erika anymore. Please, I just wanna disappear, they thought.

"Don't worry. Mom and dad left for a party, so we'll be alone for the rest of the night." Erika smiled gently. "I'll take care of you until they get back."

"-selfish for me to think this, but he's making this needlessly difficult. We just wanna help."

"Everyone has their own ways of coping," Yoh pointed out. She turned off the burner and pushed the pot backwards to a different area of the stove. "He knows we're trying to help."

Lillie watched Yoh desperately. She wanted to hear something else, even if she knew Yoh was right.

"May-" Ash cut themself off to clear their throat. "Maybe I could go check on him?"

Lincoln nodded at Ash. "I think he'd appreciate that."

Lillie sighed. "Better you than me."

Yoh and Lincoln looked at her, although Yoh's expression seemed a little harsher.

"Sorry," Lillie immediately said. "Yeah, I think it would be a good idea. Go ahead, Ash."

Ash looked at everyone in the room desperately. They were starting to have second thoughts after Lillie's comment.

Lincoln carefully approached Ash and bent down to wrap his arms around their shoulders. Ash exhaled the air they didn't realize they'd been holding and hugged him back.

"Will you give that to Drew for me?" he asked.

Ash nodded. "Yeah, I will."

Lincoln let go of Ash and smiled softly at them. Ash nervously left the room and began their search for Drew.

They left the living room and walked down the hallway to check his bedroom. Ash paused, however, when they passed the bathroom. They could faintly hear the sound of Drew crying on the other side of the door. Ash felt their chest tighten.

With a shaking hand, Ash lightly tapped against the wood with their knuckles.

The crying continued uninterrupted. Ash's frown deepened and they searched the hallway for some kind of solution to the problem.

"Um, Drew?" Ash's voice was soft.

A brief pause. The sound of sniffles ceased momentarily.

"Yeah? What's up, Ash?" Drew attempted to make his voice sound calm, but Ash already knew. There really wasn't any point.

Ash struggled to find the words to say next. I know how you feel, they thought. No, that's not what I should say.

Their gaze fell on the brightly colored bracelets on their wrists. Ash gently looped their finger under one of them and began to play with the beads.

"I have something for you," Ash mumbled.

There was a longer pause, and Ash wondered if Drew heard them.

"I have-" Ash was interrupted when the door started opening slowly. "Oh."

Light from the bathroom flooded into the hallway. Ash looked up at Drew, feeling the urge to cry hit them again. His eyes were puffy and raw, and the collar of his shirt was visibly damp.

Ash gasped lightly and sat down in front of the doorway. Drew watched for a moment before he sat down as well, looking across from them. They looked at each other in silence. So many possible words echoed in their minds, but neither knew which was the right ones to say.

Ash finally dropped their gaze to their lap and they played with their bracelets quietly. Eventually, they chose one and tugged it off their wrist. Ash held it out to Drew, who slowly reached out to accept it.

"It's blue. Like Lincoln." Ash blushed and hurriedly corrected themself, "his hair, I mean."

Drew released a sound that resembled a laugh, but it didn't match his expression. He lightly traced his fingers across the beads. It was made of dark blue and white pony beads. He slipped the bracelet over his hand and examined it closer as it rested on his wrist. Like Lincoln...

"Thank you."

Ash nodded and folded their hands in their lap.

"I'm sorry I ruined it," Drew whispered. "You wanted us to help you make candy, and I couldn't…"

Drew trailed off when he noticed the tears falling to Ash's lap. His instinct was to retreat before he caused anymore damage, but he fought the urge.

"I know about…" Ash whimpered softly. "I heard you talking... to Lillie earlier."

Drew's heart skipped a beat as their words registered in his mind. He scooted backwards a little, uncomfortable.

"You did?"

Ash nodded. They gradually lifted their head, but still avoided Drew's gaze. Drew wanted to apologize to Ash, but he couldn't bring himself to speak.

"When we were in the kitchen… you saw him, didn't you?" Ash began to breathe faster, each breath more difficult than the last. "I… I saw… I was…" Ash sighed in frustration. "I remembered, too."

Erika? Drew impulsively reached his hand out to place it on Ash's knee, but was stopped when Ash lunged forward and put their arms around Drew. They hugged Drew tight and cried into his shirt.

Drew could only stay still, stunned. So many emotions stirred inside him, and he was unsure how to react next. Hesitantly and very slowly, Drew returned the hug Ash had thrown themself into.

Ash melted into the hug. Their crying soon died down and allowed them to leave the comfort of Drew's embrace. Ash wiped their eyes with their knuckles.

"My… my body feels like it's on fire when I have to remember. The places where…" Ash's voice got smaller. "The places she touched me burns. I wanna forget."

The places she touched me burns. This sentence froze all thoughts in Drew's mind. He shivered.

"Me too," he whispered. "I wanna forget too. But I… I can still feel it, sometimes."

"It's like she's still here…"

"Like I never escaped."

They both sighed. Ash started playing with the loose string on their jeans.

"You made me feel better," Drew finally said. "I mean… I appreciate you talking to me."

"Yeah?" Ash barely smiled. "I'm glad."

"Maybe… maybe I could make it up to you by helping you finish the candy?"

Ash shook their head. "I think it's already done, actually." They paused. "We could all make a different kind of candy together, though. If you're up for it, I mean."

Drew nodded. "If you want to."

Ash stood suddenly and motioned for Drew to follow. He stood a little slower than Ash did, but followed them down the hallway to where Ash stood. He watched them rummage through their bag, and it wasn't long before they found what they were looking for.

Ash revealed a freezer bag filled with many colored beads, and clear string. For the first time that day, Ash was smiling.

"Let's all make kandi together."

#drew #ash #lillie #todd's ocs #hnmp gen2

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mhdiaries · 4 years

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Freaky Fusions Neighthan Rot Diary

6/14

I must be the clumsiest zombicorn in the entire monster world. Granted I’m the only one, at least the only I know of, as far as I can tell. My dad said if he would have had any idea I was going to be so clumsy, he would have named me “Trip”. Lucky for me, I have a built-in first aid kit in the form of my horn. It works great when it comes to healing physical bumps, bruises and scrapes, but no so much for emotional ones. I think that’s why I want to be a psychologist so that I can help monsters feel better from the inside out. Definitely have enough experience seeing how hard it is for a monster when they don’t have someone they trust that’ll listen to what they’re going through. I know it’s a lot more complicated than that, but it’s easy to feel alone when you don’t think you’re being heard.

6/17

I filled out my application for Monster High today and was surprised to find a section that asked me to talk about my family scaritage. I was hesitant at first, but when I talked to Mom and Dad, they told me “just tell the story.” Of course, they each have their own version of the story. Dad said to make sure I used his vision, which made Mom roll her eyes. Dad was an art major in college, and one of his class assignments required him to sketch illustrations of wild unlife. He says he was so stealthy that he was able to sneak up on any creature in the forest and draw for hours without ever being noticed. Mom says she always knew Dad was coming, because she could hear him tripping over, under and through every vine, branch and twig in the woods. She said that the only reason Dad was able to sketch “unnoticed” was because she told the woodland creatures that she sensed Dad’s heart was pure and kind, so they just ignored him. Dad said he always felt “watched” when he was there, so he started having “conversations” with his watcher. They were all one-sided, but Mom said Dad talked about his unlife, his hopes and screams, and he was funny. Mom started looking forward to Dad’s visits and debated about coming out of hiding, so he could see her, but always talked herself out of it. Then one day, when he sat down to draw, he said, “My class is ending, and I won’t be coming back. Thanks for keeping me company all this time, and I drew something for you.” The sketch that Dad held up was of a unicorn. Over time, and without realizing it, Mom’s shyness had been overcome by Dad’s kindness and good humor; so much so, that each time he visited, she hid less and less. Dad never let on that he could see her though because he was afraid she would run away and never come back. So Mom, who can transform into a two-legged creature at will, walked out and sat next to Dad. They have been at each other’s side ever since.

6/21

I got a text today from Sirena, asking if I would meet her at the Coffin Bean to talk about something. I think she purposely kept it vague, because she has many “somethings” floating around in her head, and she’s never sure which one it is she wants to discuss until she’s literally hovering in front of you. Not that it bothers me, it’s just who she is. Also, if she gets distracted, which happens, you’re not left on the hook worrying about a specific problem she might be having. While I was waiting for her, a group of high school ghouls came through the door. They were laughing and being silly, which caused me to look up from the book I was reading just in time to catch the eye of the most beautiful ghoul I have ever seen. She had black and white streaked hair pulled up in a pony tail – I love that look – pale mint green skin, and matching neck bolts. It was her eyes that I got caught in though, one blue, one green, and both totally electric. I think we both realized we were caught in each other’s sightline at the same time, and we quickly looked away. She was with a mummy and werewolf ghoul, but I don’t remember much about either one of them. It was like a music video, where everything slows down and fades into the background except the star. I couldn’t decide whether to introduce myself or run and hide. I though that I would wait until they sat down, but they grabbed their order to go. I had this moment of panic that made me feel like if I didn’t follow her out and get her name and number, I would never see her again. Only I didn’t follow her, I just sat there like a gargoyle on a wall and watched her leave. But as she was leaving, she turned and looked back like she had forgotten something, our eyes met briefly again, it may have been just my imagination or a trick of the light, but it looked like a little spark leapt off her neck bolts. Then she was gone, and I missed my chance. I don’t even know if she lives around here. Maybe, she was visiting or from another country, or if she does live here, I’m sure she must be dating some manster that’s the captain of the football team or something. How could a ghoul like that not be? I don’t know the answer to any of these questions, and now I probably never will but if I ever do see her again, I promise I will, find out. As for Sirena, she did show up, but whatever that “something” was she wanted to discuss I don’t remember a word of it.

7/10

I went to the movies with Avea and Bonita last night. Sirena was supposed to join us, but didn’t show until we got to the Die-ner after the show. I wasn’t that excited about the film, but I was hoping maybe I’d see the ghoul from the Coffin Bean at the theater, but I didn’t. I was thinking about going home after the movie instead of to the Die-ner, but the ghouls wanted to talk about MH. They don’t think we’re going to get in, but for some reason I do. Maybe, I’m just being naïve, or maybe I think we deserve something clawsome to happen to us.

7/12

I called Monster High today to see if I could meet with Headless Headmistress Bloodgood. I had a speech all memorized to try and talk my way past her secretary and onto her calendar. My speech was completely thrown off though, when the headmistress was the monster that actually answered the phone. I kind of panicked and said, “My name is Neighthan Chance and I would like a Rot to talk to you about… ummm…” There was silence on the other end of the line, and I thought I either heard a cough or a laugh, and she said, “Mr. Rot, my calendar is open for this afternoon, so why don’t you come in and see me at three.” I got there at two and paced back and forth in front of the school for about twenty minutes, when I heard someone calling my name, “Mr. Rot, do come in before you wear a moat into the front lawn.” I looked up to see Headless Headmistress Bloodgood standing at the top of the school steps. I went up the steps two at a time, and naturally, I tripped, landed hard and skinned my arm from wrist to elbow. HHB offered to take me to the nurse’s office, but I just used my horn and healed the scrape. If she was the least bit surprised, she didn’t show it. We sat in her office, and I talked while she mostly listened. First off, I told her that I was there of my own accord and that the ghouls didn’t know about it; that I just wanted to ask her to give Sirena, Bonita and Avea’s applications special consideration. I told her about their backgrounds and their friendship and their parents and that even though Sirena, Bonita and Avea had been to a bunch of different schools, it didn’t mean that they were troublemakers. I said they’d never gotten the chance to go to a school where the inner monster was more important than the outer one, and that I believed things could be different here. HHB took her head off and put it on the desk. “I’m curious to know why you think that,” she asked. I thought for a moment and finally said, “Because that’s the foundation of Monster High is built upon, isn’t it? That it doesn’t matter who your parents are, or what kind of monster you happen to be, and you don’t just say it. You unlive it.” HHB put her head back on and leaned back in her chair. She then said, “What about yourself then, Mr. Rot? Do you not wish to be a student at Monster High?” I told her that I did, but that I didn’t want to take a spot that could go to one of my friends. After I finished my plea, the headmistress furrowed her brow and leaned forward, “That’s very noble of you, Mr. Rot, but why do you assume that you’d be accepted, either?” I must have looked totally shocked at the thought of that possibility, then her eyes lit up and she smiled. “Relax, Mr. Rot, I was only teasing. You are a very earnest young manster with what appears to be a genuinely compassionate heart. That aside, you need not concern yourself with sacrificing your spot for one of your friends – at Monster High, space will be made when space is required.” I sat back in my chair and breathed a little sigh of relief. We talked a little while longer, and then, as she walked me out, I saw a picture on the wall of the MH Fear Squad. They were doing a pyramid, and at the top was the ghoul I saw at the Coffin Bean. My heart almost jumped out of my chest, and I asked, “Who is that?” HHB told me her name was Frankie Stein. “You two should meet someday,” she said. “I think you’d find you have much in common.” It was a nice thing for her to say, but how could I have anything in common with perfection?

7/30

I got my letter from Monster High today. By the time mine was delivered, Bonita, Sirena and Avea had all gotten theirs and called to give me the good news. I opened mine and stopped reading after “We are delighted to inform you…” I’m in. We’re all in. We made it… we made it.

#monster high #monster high diary #freaky fusion #neighthan rot

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starlightinhumanform · 4 years

Text

Strong As The Sun

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Ship: Romantic Prinxiety, Platonic Analogicality

Summary: It’s Roman’s last summer before going off to college; he should be spending it hanging out at the beach and having fun. Instead, he is wasting his time away beneath the eye of his cruel manager and behind the counter of the local fair’s Help Center. His day gets a little more interesting when Virgil Sanders collapses into his arms.

Warnings (in order of strength): Moderate language throughout, Description of physical illness throughout, Not panic but Virgil does get pretty upset a couple times. Please tell me if anything needs to be added. Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Human AU

A/N: -The Dragon Witch is Ms. Drakon -Because of his anxiety, Virgil clings to ‘comfort items’ (in this case, his hoodie) And lastly: I am not a medical professional!! This is all based on my own experiences with heat exhaustion and may not be entirely accurate. If you are ever in a situation like this, don’t be like Roman! Get some help! Hope you enjoy! Love you all 🖤✨

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Roman couldn’t put his finger on the reason he loved his job so much. Maybe it was the suffocating heat that made him sweat so much his hair was consistently ruined by the end of every shift. Or maybe it was the entitled older folks who would yell at him for doing what his manager told him to do. It could have been the way his manager yelled at him for... doing exactly what she had told him to do. The best part was definitely the smell- a magical combination of cheap grease, sunscreen, animal waste, and a good amount of human waste.

Yeah, ok, his job sucked. Standing at the help desk of a local fair for 12 hours everyday was not exactly Roman’s ideal summer plan. It was his last summer before college; he should be getting toned from surfing at the beach all day where he would inevitably find his dream man and they would live happily ever after.

“Roman?! Did you hear a word I just said?”

Roman jerked his head up from where it had been resting in his hand (the perfect position for daydreaming himself away from this hell) and tried to look alert, “Yeah, sure! Of course!”

His manager scowled at him from across the counter. She looked like what would have happened if Snow White had made some sort of pact with the evil witch- sickly pale skin, blood red lips, and smooth black hair that never had a strand out of place. She tapped her nails against the desk and raised one perfectly manicured eyebrow, “Well, in that case, could you repeat it to me?”

“No, Ms. Drakon,” Roman hung his head, hoping his pathetic act would earn him some crumb of pity.

His manager just rolled her eyes, turning around and glaring at him over her shoulder, “I was saying you need to do a better job of looking enthusiastic- more ready to help. If you don’t, well just remember: there are plenty of other desperate teenagers who will easily take your place.”

The witch stalked away, stopping occasionally to bare her teeth at patrons in substitute of an actual smile. Roman barely resisted the urge to flip her off but decided it wasn’t worth the risk. He was positive at this point that she had eyes in the back of her head.

He sighed, rubbing his eyes and standing up straighter in an attempt to look more “enthusiastic”- or at least awake. Drakon might have been the epitome of evil, but she was right. It would be as easy as snapping her fingers to have Roman fired and replaced. And that was not something he could afford- literally.

Roman shoved the thoughts aside as a family walked up. He saw so many of the same groups over and over again that they all started to blend together. This one was no different- a loud, angry straight couple surrounded by a horde of unruly children.

The man slammed his fist down on the counter as he approached and Roman plastered on a smile, “Hi sir! How can I help you?”

Yep. Today was going to be fun. It was only noon and he had already a) gotten puked on by a little kid, b) had nearly been fired, and now c) yelled at because apparently the carnival games were arranged incorrectly and it was somehow his fault.

Roman spent the next two hours trying not to space out but it was so hard when he wanted to be anywhere else. He decided he was never going to a fair ever again. Ever. Unless it was with a boyfriend. Who he would win a bunch of prizes for. And take selfies with while they ate matching cotton candy. And they would ride the Ferris wheel together and kiss at the top. Hmmmm, so maybe he would never go to a fair ever again unless certain requirements were met.

If only his Prince Charming could come along now, jump over the desk partition, reach for Roman’s hand, and whisk him away to some place that had air conditioning. He would be tall, muscular, with a strong jawline, and-

“Excuse me?”

Roman glanced down, trying to find the kid who was trying to get his attention.

“Up here?”

He moved his gaze upwards to find a guy about his age wearing a dark hoodie with his hands shoved in his pockets. Not surprisingly, he looked like he was dying from the heat.

“Oh sorry. I thought you were,” Roman waved his hand at his knee, “small.”

The stranger grimaced, “Gonna try not to be insulted by that.”

“Anyways... how can I help you?” Even though the statement was built into Roman’s subconscious script, he really did mean it. The boy kept swaying and Roman wasn’t sure if it was some kind of nervous fidget or because he was actually about to pass out.

“Yeah. Right. Sorry. I’m just kinda- my head-“ He ran his hands through his hair, “Basically I lost my group and my phone is dead and I have no idea where they are and-“

He tried to take a step forward but stumbled, gripping the desk for support. Roman’s protective instincts kicked in immediately. He swung open the little shack’s gate and began leading the boy back to the shade of the awning, one arm swung around his chest to support him.

“I’m fine, really,” He tried to protest but used Roman as crutch as if this was A Christmas Carole and he was Tiny Tim.

Roman snorted as he latched the gate shut behind them, “You’re not ‘fine’- you can barely walk.”

Roman set the boy down on the rough floors, concerned by how hard he was breathing. He grabbed a water bottle from beneath the counter and offered it as he squatted down. This close, Roman was able to get a better evaluation his guest.

The good news: the heavy darkness beneath his eyes was eyeshadow- not some sort of bruise or dark circles that were so bad they could be seen from three feet away. The bad news: basically everything else. His breathing was labored. His face was deathly pale- nearly gray- and beaded with sweat. His black skinny jeans, heavy boots, and oversized purple hoodie were ideal for perhaps a light rain in mid October; at a fair during the sadistic month of July, the outfit looked nearly deadly.

Roman chewed the bottom of his lip. He really wasn’t trained for this sort of thing. His job was to look cute at the entrance and tell people where they could find the petting zoo. But he couldn’t just turn this guy away, “Look, you can stay here as long as you need but if my boss sees you, I’m dead so just try to stay low or something.”

The boy had been gulping down the water bottle but froze suddenly. His eyes widened and he started scrambling to get up. His feet scrabbled beneath him like a puppy who wasn’t used to their legs yet.

“Hey, hey, stop!” Roman hissed under his breath, trying to avoid making a scene, “What are you doing?”

“I don’t want you to get in trouble. It’s better if I just go,” The boy stopped struggling and stared at Roman with eyes the size of a small planet. They were blue, so deep and dark they almost looked purple. Beneath them, the messy eyeshadow was smudged by what Roman realized were tear streaks.

“Shut up, Emo. I’m not going to let you leave until I know it’s safe,” Roman reached out, brushing his thumb across the boy’s cheekbones to wipe away the dark trails the makeup had made.

The boy looked confused but didn’t try to duck away from Roman’s touch, “What are you doing?”

Roman drew his hand back and stared down at it. He felt just as confused as the boy looked. What was he doing? He huffed out a laugh, “I- I’m not sure. I don’t think either of us are thinking very clearly right now.”

Across from him, the boy bowed his head down so Roman couldn’t see his face and started drinking from the bottle again- less desperately this time. Roman got the feeling the conversation was over.

He stood up and shifted so he was more centered at the desk, “I have to look like I’m actually doing my job, but tell me if you need anything. Try to, uh, cool off or something. I’ve got plenty of water bottles over here.”

“Virgil.”

“I’m sorry?” Roman turned to face the shadow of a human in the corner of his shack. The boy was trying to take up less space, but his lanky legs made it hard to curl up.

“My name is Virgil.”

Roman smiled, “Nice to meet you, Virgil. I’m Roman.”

Virgil nodded as if Roman had given the correct answer and was allowed to go back to his job.

The next hour passed sluggishly. Roman told six separate women asked where the bathrooms were but he could swear they were all the exact same person. He saw the girl who ran the lemonade stand spit into a drink at least twice. At some point, Virgil fell asleep, the back of his head pressed against the gate and his neck bent at an angle that would probably hurt when he woke up. His breathing was still a worrying rasp and Roman couldn’t help but glance over towards Virgil’s corner whenever he got the chance.

Three o’clock rolled in like it didn’t want to come. Roman slammed down his sign that read “I’m On Break Right Now!! I’ll Be Back In A Few Minutes :)” and dared the Karen who was marching toward his stand to take another step forward.

When he was sure the coast was clear, he ducked onto the floor and grabbed another water bottle as he scooted next to Virgil. This close, Roman could feel tremors that were running through Virgil’s body.

“Hey buddy, wake up,” Roman shook Virgil’s shoulders gently, wincing at the heat that radiated through the thick sweatshirt.

Virgil’s eyes blinked open slowly, glassy and unfocused. He searched around the small space before his gaze settled on Roman, “Where am- oh that’s right. I’m still here?”

Roman couldn’t explain it but something about the venomous disappointment in Virgil’s voice hit him in the chest. He shook the feeling away quickly when he remembered what was going on, “You’re burning up. I want you to drink some more water. And I think you’re going to need to take off that sweatshirt.”

Virgil collapsed in on himself, wrapping his arms around his chest and pressing himself against the side of the shack, “I don’t want to take it off.”

Roman could feel his eyebrows scrunching together by their own accord, “Why not?”

Virgil just shrugged and looked away which perfectly conveyed the message of I know exactly why and I’m not going to tell you.

“Ok, ok, whatever. It’s not like that stupid hoodie is seriously damaging your health or anything.”

Virgil flopped his head to the side to glare with two ice-cold flames. Roman got the feeling that if Virgil had more strength, he would’ve gotten slapped.

Roman pinched the bridge of his nose, searching for options. It’s not like he could force Virgil to take the sweatshirt off- that would be weird for anyone. Besides, he still hardly knew this kid. Maybe he refused to take the hoodie off because he had some giant tattoo from a gang. Did gangs get tattoos? Like the dark mark from Harry Potter? Roman was getting sidetracked and Virgil looked like the type of person who rarely left his house. Ok so definitely not the type to join a gang.

But the fact that they hardly knew each other still stood. If he pushed it too far, he would be crossing about twenty boundaries. On the other hand, Virgil was looking worse and worse by the second. In the space of a few blinks, his expression had faded from a glare to half-lidded stupor.

Roman grimaced as he pressed the back of his hand against Virgil’s forehead. His bangs were damp and his skin felt like a hot pan just off the stove. Roman brushed his hand upwards, combing his fingers through Virgil’s hair.

Virgil’s gaze flicked over to meet Roman’s eyes, unfocused and filmy. But within those eyes, swimming in the purple beneath, Roman could see so much emotion, it almost hurt to look at. Those eyes pleaded with him, so full of fear.

Roman sighed. He simply couldn’t say no that stare, “Yeah ok. You can keep the damn thing on. But we need to figure out a way to get your fever down.”

Virgil slumped sideways into Roman, pressing into him instead of the wall. The chills running through his body were so strong that Roman almost wondered if they were contagious somehow. He snuggled further against Roman, his head pressing into Roman’s shoulder.

Roman didn’t know what to do. What he wanted to do was wrap his arms around this strange little shadow and never let go. In reality, though, even this much contact was probably worsening Virgil’s temperature.

“Hey,” Roman shook Virgil’s far shoulder slightly to get his attention, “I had an idea. Would you be ok with just unzipping your hoodie? You wouldn’t have to take it off!”

Virgil responded by wrapping himself around Roman’s arm like some baby marsupial, “Too tired. Just wanna sleep.”

Roman could hardly hear Virgil’s muttering through the material of his own shirt. He sighed, “Yeah. Well too bad. Will you please just keep yourself from dying?”

“Ti-r-ed,” Virgil drew out the vowels like a whiny little kid.

“What- do you want me to do it?” Roman huffed out an exasperated laugh.

Against him, he felt Virgil shrug, “Sure.”

“Oh,” Roman hadn’t been expecting that answer. He had asked as a joke after all. Virgil had made such a big deal about keeping the sweatshirt on that Roman felt that he was crossing a line by even touching it.

Roman untangled Virgil’s arms for his and propped him against the wall. The boy moved as if he were a rag doll in Roman’s hands and it was nearly enough make Roman queasy. He scooted over so he was facing Virgil.

He watched him with those big eyes. Big, soft eyes. They carried so much uncertainty, always tracking Roman’s movement without ever shifting their gaze. But they held the weight of trust as well- feeling safe despite not knowing what Roman was going to do. Roman glowed under the trust, feeling like he had been awarded a treasure few could even find. At the same time, he was positive he didn’t deserve it. He didn’t know if he was doing the right things. How could Virgil seem so certain that Roman would help him if even Roman didn’t know that?

Roman reached forward, hands freezing as they hovered over the zipper that hung just below the dip of Virgil’s collarbone. This was weird. He knew these were “special circumstances” but still... it was weird. Roman cleared his throat, “Uh, sorry, this is just kind of awkward.”

Virgil mustered another glare, less deadly this time but still managing to clearly convey the message of Stop being such a useless gay.

Roman cleared his throat again. He probably sounded like he was developing a case of pneumonia, “Right. Sorry.”

Said useless gay took a deep breath and pulled the zipper down. Underneath, Virgil was wearing a plain black muscle tank to match the rest of his dark outfit. Roman had to give him credit for committing so strongly to the aesthetic. A part of him was still surprised that Virgil’s hoodie wasn’t hiding some kind of green alien body.

“Surprised I’m not some kind of green alien?”

Roman realized he had been staring and immediately tried to find something else to look at. His brain apparently decided that the best solution was to reread the safety rules posted on the back wall. He could feel a blush rising to his face and he was pretty sure it had something to do with the way the tank top dipped lowly across Virgil’s chest and hung across his delicate collarbones.

Roman nearly started laughing at himself out loud. He sounded like a repressed Victorian maiden. What he going to do next? Maybe he would stomp his feet and start chanting Show me your ankle! Show me your ankle!

“Hey, help me with this?” Virgil’s strained voice brought Roman’s attention swinging back to the real world. He was trying to shrug the sweatshirt off his shoulders while still trying to move as little as possible.

Roman reached out again, probably too quickly. He was acting so strange. He wished his hands would stop shaking so much.

“Oh, Roman?” A sugar-sweet, poisoned voice floated into the shack just as Roman managed to get the last sleeve past Virgil’s elbow.

“Shit,” Roman hissed under his breath, “That’s my manager.”

Virgil’s eyes went wide but Roman didn’t have the time to reassure him. He threw the nearest thing over Virgil which happened to be a beach towel from the lost and found. It probably wouldn’t help his temperature at all, but at least Ms. Drakon wouldn’t see him.

Roman pulled out his winning grin as he stood up, “Why, hello, Ms. Drakon!”

She responded with an equally bright mouthful, but Roman wouldn’t dare to call it a smile, “Roman, it seems you have quite a crowd beginning to build up!”

He glanced over and suppressed a groan as he saw the trail of unhappy looking people that glared at him from an ever-growing line. He turned his attention back to Drakon, pointing down to the sign propped on the counter, “Yes, ma’am, I see that. I will make sure that they are all satisfied as soon as my break is over.”

Her eyes wrinkled as her mouth widened, but there was nothing friendly about them, “I think you’ve been on break long enough.”

“Yes, of course!” In Roman’s head, a large anvil had just landed on Drakon’s head.

Drakon disappeared into the crowd and Roman turned to the daunting line in front of him. The snake was headed by a group of 12 year old girls. They were easiest type to deal with. Bless their boyband obsessed hearts- they were probably the only reason the counter hadn’t been broken down by a mob of angry middle aged women with expired passes. He gave them a wink, “I’ll be with you ladies in a minute.”

Judging by the giggles that erupted as he sank down behind the counter, he had bought himself a minute or two.

“Hey there,” Roman was trying to be quiet but he was surprised at how soft his voice came out.

He pulled the towel away to find Virgil fast asleep. His breath was definitely starting to even out. The stupid hoodie pooled around him, still attached at the wrists. A tiny hint of a smile tugged at one side of his lips.

Roman ruffled his hands through Virgil’s hair, “Hang in there, buddy.”

He twirled around as he stood up, adding a little more dramatic flair than needed. He flicked the sign down with one finger. The smile he beamed at the crowd was genuine; this time he had something to smile about- even if he wasn’t quite sure what it was.

Another hour passed by with all of the ease of a root canal. A person told him they wanted a discount because their child had found a dead rat in a trash can. Roman tried to explain that it was a good thing it was in a trash can instead of anywhere else. The lemonade girl flipped someone off. She was Roman’s hero.

Virgil only began stirring by the end of it, blinking his eyes open like a owl in daylight. He looked around the shack like he was seeing it for the first time. His eyes were sharper than Roman had seen them before, glittering like obsidian now that they could focus.

Roman tried his best to concentrate on the customer in front of him, but he kept glancing back and grinning at Virgil. It was nice to see him looking more like a human and less like a very unhealthy zombie.

For what seemed like an eternity and a half, the customer refused to leave. Finally Roman made an under-the-table deal consisting of extra arcade tickets and a free voucher for lemonade just to get rid of them. He hoped the lemonade got spat in.

“Coast clear?” Virgil’s small voice came from what Roman had officially began calling Virgil’s Corner. He sounded different- probably because he wasn’t fighting for his life. His voice was still low, but the gravel in his tone sounded far more intentional and less like Holy shit I can’t breathe.

Roman turned around and leaned against the counter, “Ah! Sleeping Beauty awakes! How are you feeling?”

“Would I sound ungrateful if I said I feel like shit?”

Roman made an exaggerated act of thinking about it, “Just a little bit. But also honest.”

Virgil nodded and then looked down at the ground, letting a beat of silence fall between them. Roman got the feeling that Virgil had something to say, but they both had to wait for it to arrive.

Virgil began pulling the hoodie back up around his hunched shoulders, eyes still burning holes through the floor of the stall.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Roman sunk down to the floor, “Don’t put that thing back on. I just got you breathing right again- don’t make us start over from square one.”

He placed his hand against Virgil’s forehead again, “You still feel kinda overheated to me so-“

Roman stopped speaking as Virgil flinched away from the touch. His eyes darted around as if they couldn’t find a single safe place to land. He pulled his arms and legs in, tense and ready to- to do what, though? He looked like he wanted to hide, and run, and fight all at the same time. Virgil had quickly transformed into a cornered wild animal.

“Virgil, what’s wrong?” Roman spoke as softly and slowly as he could but tension was mounting within him as well. Had he done something wrong? Was Virgil hurt?

“They didn’t ask about me, did they?” Virgil spoke as if he didn’t want is voice to be heard.

“I’m sorry, who didn’t ask about you?”

“My group. The ones I came with. They both wear glasses and have brown hair and one’s shorter than the other and the taller one has freckles and was wearing a black button down and the other was wearing a blue shirt and- and,” Virgil’s voice broke and Roman’s heart along with it, “-and they’re my best friends.”

Suddenly Roman remembered the reason Virgil had shown up at his desk in the first place. It wasn’t the heat exhaustion- he had gotten lost.

Virgil succeeded in wrapped himself up in his sweatshirt. He curled into a tight ball, knees pulled against his chest and eyes just barely peeking above top of them.

“Hey, well, they’re probably looking around the fair for you. A lot of people don’t even know about my dumb little shack here! They’ll turn up eventually.”

Virgil shook his head, “They wouldn’t even look for me. They’ve probably left by now.”

“I really don’t think-“

Roman was cut off by Virgil launching himself onto him, wrapping his arms like a vice around Roman’s chest and digging his face into Roman’s shoulder. Shuddering sobs wracked Virgil’s body, all the panic and pain of today running onto Roman’s shoulder and staining his shirt with dark eyeshadow.

But Roman wasn’t thinking about that. He was hardly thinking at all. Roman was angry. Maybe angrier than he had ever been at that Drakon bitch or any of the customers that screamed at him or the kids who threw things at him or the teenagers who would snicker just loud enough so that he could hear them. That was trivial.

He was so mad. Mad at the pigs who stranded Virgil on his own, who apparently didn’t give a shit about his wellbeing, who made him feel so worthless that his immediate assumption was that they had left him behind.

Roman hoped they showed up. He would rip them to pieces.

He wrapped one arm around Virgil as tightly as he could and cradled the back of his head with his other hand. He didn’t want to let go; he wouldn’t let go. Roman could feel Virgil’s nails digging into his back as he gripped Roman’s shirt in fists.

Roman began rocking gently back and forth, moving his fingers through Virgil’s hair and letting his nails scratch softly against his scalp. Soon, Virgil’s sobs subsided into smaller hiccups. Roman could still feel hot tears soaking through his shirt.

They stayed huddled on the floor for a good minute before Virgil slowly raised his head, “I’m sorry, sometimes I get-“

“Hey, don’t be sorry,” Roman ran his thumb across Virgil’s cheek, brushing away the tears that ran down it. Like this, Virgil’s eyes looked ethereal, two pools of pure enchantment. Roman was sure he could spend the rest of his life memorizing the way the sunlight play against them.

“Excuse me?”

“Shit, shit, shit, damn it,” Roman knew he should have put his do not disturb sign up.

Virgil jerked his head up, “Patton?!”

Roman looked up to see another teenager about his age leaning over the counter. He was wearing glasses and a blue T-shirt with the Humane Society logo.

His face melted into a relieved smile as Virgil stood up, “Thank goodness we found you- we’ve been looking everywhere.”

He wrapped Virgil in a hug as yet another teenager appeared. He was taller, with eyes nearly as dark as Virgil’s, and he looked like he might sit down and begin discussing taxes with you at any moment.

This one nodded, “I created a systematic search pattern to use. Unfortunately, we were not even made aware of this place until a rather rude young lady at the lemonade stand directed us over here.”

The one called Patton let go of Virgil just long enough for the other to give him a quick hug before grabbing him into another embrace, “Oh we were so worried.”

Roman felt a pang in his chest. This was good, right? Virgil was safe now. And obviously his friends weren’t the monsters Roman had assumed them to be. So it was all good. Yep. Definitely. Totally. Then why did he feel so damn sad?

“Yeah, yeah, I’m ok,” Roman looked up to see Virgil wiping off his face as the other two fussed over him, “I wouldn’t be though if it weren’t for Roman.”

The more serious one raised an eyebrow, “Who?”

Roman rose up from the ground, feeling sheepish for a reason he couldn’t explain, “Uh, that would be me.”

“Logan, Patton, this is Roman,” Virgil glanced over and gave him a warm smile, “He helped me out in more ways than one.”

Patton pulled Roman into a squeeze, wrapping his arms around his neck in a way that made Roman bend down, “Thank you so, so much.”

Logan took a moment from talking to Virgil in a tone to stare at Roman, “You got him to take off his hoodie?”

Roman escaped from Patton’s reach, “Uh, well, I think he kind of had heat exhaustion-“

Logan turned his attention back to Virgil, “But you don’t take that thing off unless you’re very comfortable with someone or-“

“Or really like them. Yeah, I know,” Virgil stared at the floor, a bright red rising to his face.

“Oh,” Roman wasn’t sure what else to say. He could feel a blush as deep as Virgil’s tinting his complexion.

Logan looked down at a watch wrapped around his wrist, “Thank you for helping our friend, but we really must be going now.”

“Right. Yes. Of course,” Roman nodded, trying to clear his head. The implications of what Logan had said were quickly replaced by gloom.

Roman hoped the sadness sitting in he’s chest like a lead weight didn’t carry into his voice. He swung open the gate and tried for a smile as Virgil stepped past him.

Roman watched as Virgil stepped down into the dirt, probably the last time he was ever going to see him. Roman almost let him get away. Almost.

“Hey, wait!” Roman leaned out and grabbed Virgil’s hand. He reached for his pocket and waved his phone, “Could I get your number?”

Virgil’s jaw dropped, “You had a phone this entire time?!”

Roman blinked dumbly at Virgil as realization hit him, “Oh my god, I did.”

Virgil looked off into the distance as if he couldn’t process Roman’s lack of brain cells. At long last he began laughing. It started off as a snicker, developing into a full on cackle and finally dissolving into a wheeze. It was one of the ugliest laughs Roman had ever heard and some of the sweetest music he’d ever listened to. Virgil straightened up from where he had collapsed with his hands on his knees, “Oh my god; you’re so stupid.”

Roman felt his heart drop, “So that’s a no?”

“I didn’t say that either,” Virgil took a step forward and snatched the phone from Roman’s still out-stretched hand.

He gave it back after a few seconds of quick typing and seemed to be about to walk away, but froze, staring intensely at something on Roman’s shirt.

“What is it?” Roman craned his neck to find what Virgil was looking at.

“Well you’ve got something,” Virgil leaned forward, poking his hand against Roman’s chest for a moment before brushing it upwards and flicking Roman in the nose, “Right there.”

Before Roman hand a chance to react, Virgil had turned on his heel and was jogging to catch up with his two companions who were chatting at the gate. He watched as the group headed away, focusing on the purple hoodie in the middle until they turned a corner and Roman couldn’t stare anymore.

Heat still beat down from the summer sky, but Roman was sure that the warmth radiating from his chest could rival any sun.

If you want to join my Sanders Sides fic taglist just send me an ask or reply to this post :p

~ @phan-fander ~

#prinxiety #prinxiety fic #prinxiety hurt/comfort #prinxiety fluff #prinxiety high school au #prinxiety human au #prinxiety fanfic #prinxiety fanfiction #virgil x roman #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fic #sanders sides human au #sanders side high school au #ts roman #ts virgil #romantic prinxiety #platonic analogicality #starlight writes

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bearwithegg · 4 years

Text

EVERYTHING ABOUT US || Joel Miller x OC || Part 1

I had this idea for a hot minute and thought I'd share this with y'all 🥺 this is a SUPER SUPER fckn slow burn so y'all have been warned 👀👀👀

Lots of words! Gore and language!

PART 2

THEY weren’t sure what they had expected, the last thing they did expect was for her to run the way she did. A woman covered head to toe with blood, as if a bucket full of it had been dumped over her in some sick practical joke — she had her arms raised ready to give them what they wanted in an instantly recognisable sign of surrender, but at the last second she bolted. They had almost mistaken her for infected, the skin that wasn’t covered with viscus blood was stained red, her hair was no doubt already a darker colour but no one could tell with the amount of blood soaked through it.

As nimble as she may be, avoiding the gunshots, they would track her down eventually. She had scuttled away, like a wounded animal trying to avoid the inevitable cycle of life that would catch up to her.

Gunshots drew unwanted attention through the abandoned town, attracting a variety of infected like a moth to a flame. As intelligent as hunters may be, they didn’t think this one through once they had been swarmed by a horde of runners and the odd clicker.

It appeared that the cycle wouldn’t catch up to the woman as quickly as they anticipated, by them, anyway. No doubt she would make a tasty treat to the numerous infected lurking around the town — that is if other hunters hadn’t got to her first. That likelihood dwindled as she slowed her pace down, now hearing the shouts and rounds of fire through just a mere echo.

Fucking idiots.

The thought crossed through her mind, reminding herself why she had long abandoned firearms many years ago. It drew too much attention by both parties, those parties being Infected and Hunters of course. Both terrifying and formidable enemies in the current state of the world, but nothing was more terrifying than coming up against groups of people .

At least Cordyceps had the decency to regress a person down to their most primal instinctual need to kill, scavenge and survive. People did what they did, because they were bored or they just wanted fun and the world they lived in provided those sick individuals opportunistically.

This wasn’t going to be her final fight, throwing down with a bunch of Hunters while they pulled her apart for supplies, fun or meat. A person alone was terrifying, but nothing compared to a person who had nothing left to lose but one bittersweet and potentially fatal final wish.

“Oh, fuck me.” She hissed, ducking low behind the cover of a dumpster upon catching sight of more Hunters scrounging through the abandoned town. The location had been optimal for her, it wasn’t too far away from her own residence and had more than enough supplies for her to scour through. Of course, situations change.

Vastly outnumbered on both accounts, the pressure increased on her to find a way out by doing the least amount of work. Exhaustion had already set its course through her after a tiring altercation with several runners and a clicker, the last thing she needed was to misstep and be gunned down by a group of Hunters for the sake of it.

Five hunters… Three eastbound by the post office… Two preoccupied with a horde…

She drew a heavy breath, knowing her perpetually insulting luck there were bound to be more around the wooded area in the treetops. It wasn’t her first run in with snipers, and it would be an incredibly stupid oversight to not at least anticipate the possibility of them. Cornered in a dingy alleyway behind a dumpster, she needed to think fast, hard and smart about her next movements or she might as well die right here on the spot.

Backdoor access through the bakery and out onto the main strip would leave me vulnerable if deadshots saw me… rooftop would give me an advantage on grounders…

The window of opportunity was getting slimmer by the second, weighing out all potential options took time and time was of the essence. She was patient. Her family had always been patient. Rushing things made larger room for mistake and mistakes led to an untimely death, something she considered not too long ago but wouldn’t let it happen. Not here .

Reaching over her shoulder, she drew her crossbow, quickly and carefully counting her dwindling number of bolts left. Six . They weren’t all that difficult to make, no — but supplies had been thin for her and as if timing hadn’t been anymore… Taunting… Her trusted carpenters knife had long exceeded its lifespan after numerous skulls it cut through and crossbow bolts whittled.

It was now a matter of a simple waiting game, she had boxed herself into this corner and by god if she wasn’t going to make the best out of a shit time. The distant gunfire had since ceased, now the atmosphere merely filled with ambience and the occasional humane shout.

Today had been a shit show for everyone it seemed, not just for her - who was always prepared for the worst - but also for the Hunters, who didn’t anticipate one woman causing them so much trouble.

Regardless how grim it was panning out, she kept her eyes on all her openings as she crept forward in the alley, edging out just before hitting the street. Her head very cautiously poked around the corner, catching a glance at a target as they stopped in front of the bakery. Hand cupped to the window to get a better look at what contents remained behind closed doors.

She took her opening, raising the crossbow like it was muscle memory and firing off a bolt. The sound of it piercing through his skull still made her grimace, no matter how many times she heard it beforehand, the inherent action of killing someone in self defence or not was enough to add yet another internal weight on her already heavy shoulders.

As swift as the death was, she was even quicker crouching by the newly made corpse and retrieved her bolt. The over hanging rooftop of the bakery provided her enough cover if there were anyone in the trees close by, but what lie ahead was a naked street that screamed ‘risky’. It was a gamble, but not one she was willing to bet her life on.

That was until she heard more gunfire.

Her ears piqued at the sound, instead of the rain of bullets being followed up by the sound of the infected and inevitable blood curdling screams of their victims. These gunshots had been echoed by more, which meant she wasn’t the only person in town they were after.

East… They’re firing east of town… That should clear up the western area.

One glance up at the sky, noting the position of the now rapidly setting sun and a momentary pause in thought was enough for her to get her bearings. The least ideal situation would be if she were stuck here, at night time and twice — now three times the threat.

There had been no indication of heavy set bullets being fired which meant her initial concern of snipers was completely futile, providing ill comfort for the dire situation. Just because one threat was out of the way didn’t mean she would get careless as she attentively crossed through town, keeping to the store fronts and near cover at any turn.

Nearing what was presumably a bar before the outbreak, footsteps were heavy across what sounded like old wooden floorboards. She peered in, seeing yet another target searching through the already empty ruins of the bar, much like the one beforehand, she dealt with him quickly.

His body landed with a decent thud onto an old table which looked as if it would break after years of wood rot and negligence. Unsurprisingly, the sheer weight crippled the furniture and with it, a rather loud noise. No doubt attracting nearby infected if they weren’t already at the gun show across town.

Not willing to die over one crossbow bolt, she continues her journey through town as the sun had now begun disappearing behind the surrounding tree line. If she didn’t get the fuck out of dodge soon, she’d be giving herself a one way ticket to an early death.

Keep calm… deep breaths…

She reminded herself, pushing back the overwhelming sense of anxiety that filled her. Stay calm, stay patient. Those two things alone are what got her this far into the end of the world, she’d be lying if she said that it didn’t at least provide comfort and some semblance of attachment to her family.

Pressing forward was a must, she was losing light and fast. Ideally she’d be out of town by dark but then again… patience was also a must. If she had to stay in the town then so be it, regardless if she wanted to do so or not, which seemed to be the most likely outcome as she crosses an open street with care.

It was hard to imagine what the street was like prior to the outbreak, of course there were some leftover remnants of what was, but it was still hard to think about life prior to the outbreak. She barely had any memories of living in normalcy, not being able to comprehend a life that was any different than patience, travel, adaptation and survive.

With yet another wary glance up at the sky, she made the executive decision to hole herself up in what appeared to have been a laundromat. Coming across these had been commonplace when travelling across the country as much as she had — that and it was the only building in town that had fortification, even if the wear and tear of the boarded windows indicated it’s been up since early in the Outbreak.

It wasn’t much, but it was better than waiting out the night in the middle of the street, there was one entrance and exit and she had no desire to rest until she was home safe.

‘home’

Sure, as much as a vacant house isolated in the forest could be home. No, home for her was not here.

She loaded a bolt into her weapon, placing it right beside her as she retrieved a small amount of food from her bag. Her eyes never flickered away from the entrance, similarly to how her ears never stop listening to the sounds outside of the building.

No more gunshots… lets hope they all killed each other .

A grimly optimistic thought, the less people alive the better for her considering she didn’t want to deal with it. As far as food went, whatever she cooked last tasted like shit yet didn’t deter the aggressively grumbling stomach from taking it and using it as essential sustenance.

Oh how she missed the finer things, what she’d do to kill for at least one can of soup. Minestrone to be more precise. Every grocery store, convenience store, abandoned market turned up nothing while she scoured each place top to bottom for one fucking can of Minestrone soup. Nada. Every. Single. Time.

A grimace pulled at her face, the incredibly chewy meat tasted bland and by the time she had bitten through down to the bone it was more fat than actual protein. She pondered on the way her food tasted like shit when a loud bang kick-started her adrenaline once again.

She crouched low behind the cover of a dilapidated washing machine, crossbow in hand as two sets of footsteps entered, followed by pained grunts that remained on the opposite side of the room.

“Think any more of them sons-of-bitches will come?”

It was a male voice, gruff sounding and exasperated. She could gather two things; he was injured and on the older side of life.

“Not likely… said they was after a woman, might be out lookin’ for her.”

Another male voice, younger sounding — both had accents, then again to her everyone had accents and she wasn’t keeping track. She had bigger problems at hand than to worry about accents and a complete comprehensive guide to what people sounded like from whatever part of this Country they resided in.

“Here’s hopin’ she don’t get caught then.”

With that she rose from her cover, crossbow raised. At least she was confident these two must have been the source of the secondary set of gunfire she heard not too long ago. Her sudden presence startled the two men, the non-injured and visibly younger of the two drew his pistol.

No words were said, but tension was high. She had an up on the two men, knowing that it was dark and more quiet than usual it wouldn’t be beneficial to either party if a loud gunshot alerted infected. Maybe if the other hadn’t been injured, it might’ve been different.

She wasn’t one for talking, not to people she didn’t know anyway— so that ruled out every person she had encountered in this apocalyptic hellscape. Despite this, she felt her intentions were conveyed clear enough through the stand off between her and the man before her.

“‘lright, you’re not gonna hurt us.” He was the first to break away, her intentions had been heard loud and clear even without the presence of words. He held his hands up, placing his pistol on top of a washing machine but never breaking eye contact with her. A remarkably unusual move on his behalf, that was made known by his injured companion.

“Tommy what the fuck are you doin’?” he hissed, clearly unnerved by his choice to drop his arms in the presence of a complete stranger who they’d never seen before.

Even though she was certain that the two men were much like her, seeking refuge for the night, she just couldn’t be too sure. She backed up until she was flush up against a machine and sat on top of it, weapon still raised, her eyes watching the too men like a hawk — more so now that she got a better look at the injured companion.

She was surprised at just how old he was, long grey hair and a beard adorning his face, he must at least be in his sixties… seventies maybe… poor old bastard…

“She ain’t gonna hurt us, Eugene…Reckon she’s just glad we ain’t hunters.” Tommy reassured, kneeling down to tend to the older man's leg wounds. He was indeed correct, she was most definitely grateful that they weren’t hunters but that didn’t mean she trusted them wholeheartedly.

Quinn didn’t trust anybody.

#joel miller #the last of us #imagine #joel x oc #the last of us imagine #original character #joel x reader #fanfiction

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spidercakes · 4 years

Text

Me: Has a bunch of prompts in my inbox.

Me: how about we write some figure skater AU instead of answering them?

No worries, I will get to them! I’ve got plans :) But for now have some figure skater!Peter and mob boss!Tony AU! May or may not write more of this on account of there are some scenes I had planned for this but couldn’t get to on account of they didn't feel like they belonged.

Warning for some references to abuse (not between the main pairing, between Peter/Quentin), and references to infidelity.

Its an accident that Tony was even near that rink to begin with but the person on the ice catches his attention. Hard not to when he moves so gracefully and Tony has never given a single shit about figure skating, always felt a bit too delicate for him all things considered, but he stops to watch anyway. Its clear that the kid is good, exceptional maybe though Tony doesn’t know enough to say. But he suspects it takes a lot of skill to be able to spin around like that and land on his feet when he does jumps. Tony can’t even skate let alone do it backwards at top speeds, jump, spin around a few times in the air, and land on his feet.

He also knows the kid clues in to his watching at some point and Tony swears he gets better, making sure he’s putting on a good show and it has Tony leaning forward in interest. Eventually he finishes moving through his routine, he’s gone through the same dance a few times only changing small bits here and there, before he skates over. “I haven’t seen you here before,” he says, pushing his light brown hair out of his face.

Yeah, Tony’s a goner. “Never really out this way,” he says. “You’re pretty good. Not that I really know anything about figure skating,” he adds. Seems unfair to judge a skill he doesn’t actually know much about.

The kid looks down and shrugs, “I’m only the fourth best in the world,” he says and if not for the way he said it Tony would have assumed it was a brag disguised as self depreciation. Its not, he can see the disappointment and frustration there and Tony wants to reach out and wipe that disappointment away.

“Pretty damn impressive from where I’m standing,” he says and he means it too, which surprises him. Normally he either deals with the best or he doesn’t, fourth doesn’t usually cut it for him but something about the kid endears him to Tony.

“Could be better,” the kid mumbles, still looking at the ice and that just breaks Tony’s heart.

“Come here,” he tells the kid, beckoning him closer and he’s a little surprised when he goes. Naive, Tony tells himself, but that works for him. He leans right up against the half wall separating the rink from the rest of the world and Tony has got to find a way to keep this one. “You know you’re beautiful right? Graceful and elegant and apparently wildly talented. You should be more proud of that,” he says and the kid glows.

“I’m okay,” he says, blush spreading across his cheeks as he smiles a little.

Tony settles a hand on the kid’s forearm. “Kid, you’re better than ‘okay,’ even I can see that and I don’t know shit about figure skating.”

He’s sure he would have gotten a response from the kid but some asshole feels the need to interrupt their moment. “Peter! The fuck are you doing? Get your ass back on the ice and fucking practice,” someone shouts across the rink. Tony looks across and decides he hates the guy on sight on principal, but also because of the way Peter startles and lets out a soft ‘oh!’ before he gives Tony an apologetic look and skates off. Its not until he’s turned around that Tony notices the ring on his left hand.

Peter loves to skate, he’s always loved skating but sometimes doing it competitively gets exhausting. Its not like there’s money in it and after the cost of his outfits and skates usually he’s left more than broke, which inevitably leads to a fight with Quent, which inevitably makes him skate worse, and that leads to another fight with Quent. God, it feels like everything he does leads to a fight with him and Peter knows he should be more grateful for Quent’s support but sometimes he wishes they could just be happy the way they used to be. Things were good in the beginning and he’s not sure when they went to shit.

So maybe that’s why he does what he does when Tony shows up and god he’s so pretty. That’d been what drew Peter to him to begin with, those pretty brown eyes, but the praise, encouragement, and seeming awe at his skating is what draws him back. It feels like he came out of nowhere though he kind of did, Peter guesses, and it should have felt more odd to him for a random stranger to compliment him the first time they met like Tony did. But it didn’t and maybe that’s because Tony’s so charismatic, nearly oozing a level of confidence in his actions that Peter envies. Its also attractive even if Peter kind of feels bad admitting that.

He’s leaning against the edge of the rink and he knows that Tony’s interest is hardly innocent with the way his hand lingers on Peter’s forearm but it gives him a little thrill, the way Tony looks at him. The way he touches him. “You’re looking better than normal today,” Tony tells him and Peter knows he’s been looking into figure skating. He’s learned some terminology and he almost uses it correctly. And he takes the corrections with way more grace than Quent.

Peter feels himself blush some. “I’m doing pretty good. I changed a couple things in my routine so I think it works a little better,” he says. He’s just glad they get to choose their own music now because he’s tired of all the boring crap he’s had to work with until a couple years ago.

Tony nods, fingers trailing up and down his forearm. “Hmm. Can’t say I’m picky about what you do when you look like that,” Tony tells him, eyes soft as he gives Peter a once over. He knows he doesn’t even look good either, he got up at like five in the morning and he’s been on the ice for hours. Like anything athletic skating works up a sweat so he knows he doesn’t look good. But he likes that Tony thinks he does.

He reaches out and settles a hand on Tony’s forearm and its the first time he’s initiated contact and the flush of adrenaline he feels is so worth it when Quent shows up. “Will you stop fucking socializing and do your fucking routine? No wonder it looks like shit,” he snaps and Peter jolts away. Tony grabs him though, holding him there but its not harsh.

“Hey, you know you deserve someone who treats you better than that, right? Someone who sees how special you are?” he says. He can see the anger on Tony’s face straining behind the concern and he knows Tony doesn’t like Quent much.

“He’s fine,” Peter says even though he knows he isn’t. May doesn’t like him either and she’s stopped being shy about saying it.

“Baby,” Tony says and Peter swears he melts at that, “no one who talks to you that way is fine. You’re the fourth best at something in the world, what the hell does he have to offer?” he asks.

“Peter, get the fuck back on the ice. Christ,” Quent snaps, shaking his head at Peter. He sighs, pulling himself away from Tony and going back to his routine. Normally he mostly ignores the way Quent yells about his mistakes, the small screw ups he makes because it gets exhausting to care but today he’s just mad about it.

By the time he’s made his way through his routine a third time he’s had enough and he drops what he’s doing and skates over to Quent, irritated. “Would you shut up?” he snaps. “I’m trying to skate here and you won’t just let me.”

“Then stop making stupid mistakes,” Quent snaps back.

Peter, for the first time in a long time, sees red. “Oh whatever Quent. I’m the fourth best at something in the world, what the hell do you have to offer?” he snaps, throwing Tony’s words at him and he knows its a mistake immediately.

Quent steps forward and shoves him and its not exactly hard to lose balance in skates when you’re not expecting to be pushed. Peter slips as he tries and fails to correct his balance and lands on his ass. “Fourth best my ass, you can’t even catch yourself when you slip,” Quent tells him, looming over him. Peter glares up at him, jaw set as he picks himself up from the ice.

“Whatever,” he mumbles, skating off before the tears start to fall.

Natasha thinks his obsession is ridiculous but Natasha can eat it. The look on Peter’s face when he sees him in the morning is worth his effort, not that he’s really doing much. Not that he wouldn’t do more, if given the chance. Today Peter skates over to him as soon as he sees him and Tony swears that he can see the way he’s starved for attention. Fucking prick of a husband, Tony would never treat Peter like that. He wouldn’t treat anyone like that and its not exactly as if he’s up and up on morals. Doesn’t mix well with his business, but he’s also no abuser. “Hey sweetheart,” he says as Peter approaches him.

Peter smiles so pretty as he presses almost into Tony’s space, eyes bright today, nearly feverish. He settles a hand on Peter’s forearm and it seems to take the edge off of the feverishness a little. “I have a present for you,” he says and lifts the box he’d carried in. Peter takes it almost gingerly, looking down at it with wide eyes.

“You didn’t need to-” he starts but Tony cuts him off.

“Oh I know that. You’ll find I only do things that I want to do, and you deserve it,” Tony tells him. The small bit of praise perks Peter up a little as he bites his lip, still apprehensive. “Why don’t you see what it is before you make judgements, hmm?”

Peter makes a small noise of contemplation but opens the box anyway, eyes going wide when he sees what’s inside. Tony happens to know judges give points for costume, knowledge gathered from Natasha and he had no idea his sister even liked figure skating but apparently she thinks of it as ballet on ice and he has first hand knowledge of how much she likes that even if he’d rather not. Point is Peter isn’t exactly swimming in money and consistently gets docked points for it, a real fuck you to anyone who’s poor who tries to do that particular sport Tony guesses. But there’s no denying that the outfit Tony got him is pretty, up to whatever arbitrary standard judges use according to Natasha and he trusts her opinion.

The look on Peter’s face confirms it. “Oh my god,” he says, pulling the pretty red outfit from its box. Its not Peter’s usual color, he tends to prefer pale pinks but Tony likes red and he figured he’d indulge himself a little, put Peter in something he wants to see. “I can’t- I couldn’t- this is expensive,” he says finally and Tony figures he’d know the cost better than Tony would.

“Doesn’t matter much to me, I’ve got money,” Tony says casually but its clear Peter is hung up on it.

“Tony, this is... it’s...”

“Beautiful, like you,” Tony tells him.

“Its a lot,” Peter says, gazing at the outfit almost sadly.

He lays a hand over Peter’s. “Not to me. Now you can’t get docked points for not wearing whatever it is judges are looking for.”

Peter frowns, “this is... well, its perfect but if you don’t know that how’d you manage to pick it? Unless you have weirdly accurate taste,” Peter says, giving the outfit another look.

Tony laughs, “my little sister knows a surprising amount about figure skating. Had no idea until I mentioned you,” he says. “She found the outfit, I picked the color.”

Peter bites his lip again, looking down at the outfit. “Really?” he asks, excited. Tony nods and Peter lets out a happy squee and there’s the reaction Tony was hoping for. “Oh my god thank you!” he says excitedly as he skates off at top speeds. Tony watches for a good couple hours as Peter skates around in the outfit, admiring the way the dark red looks against his pale skin. He notices that Peter’s shitty husband doesn’t show up but he doesn’t really think much of it on account of Peter is clearly happier without him.

He can’t believe he’s so lucky. Something tells him that maybe Tony is too good to be true with his good looks, apparently wealth, and endless string of praise but Peter likes feeling wanted. He’s missed that feeling having been without it for what seems like forever. May can only do so much to combat all of Quent’s negativity and he doesn’t see her very often anymore.

So he tries to make sure he’s extra good, concentrating harder on doing the moves right and he feels like its getting better. He feels better anyway, more confident in something that’s not homemade and clearly cheap next to his competitors. Tony clearly likes watching him in it too, and he’s taken to sitting on the benches now that Quent’s disappeared. Tony had asked about it yesterday but its normal for him to take off for a couple days or a couple weeks at a time. Peter knows he does it to make him upset, to beg for him to come back but he’s finding his Quentin free life pretty good actually. Its peaceful, pleasant.

When he’s done he skates over to Tony, making his way off the rink feeling exhausted but satisfied. “Come here,” Tony tells him and Peter bites his lip, considering how forward he wants to be. For a moment he thinks maybe he won’t do what he wants to, what he’s wanted to do for the last month and a half but halfway there he decides fuck it.

And the look on Tony’s face when he sits in his lap is so worth it. He looks delighted and Peter feels special as Tony wraps his arms around him. Peter cuddles up close, liking the feeling of Tony’s hand settled on his thigh. “Yeah?” he asks, smiling softly.

Tony looks him over, lips quirking up a little as a bit of soft fondness leaks out. “Want to come home with me?” he asks and frowns a little like he’s surprised by his own words.

“I’d have to get my stuff,” Peter says, wrinkling his nose a little and Tony squeezes his thigh.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll get you whatever you need. You don’t have to worry about anything ever again,” Tony tells him and Peter believes it too.

Natasha is looking at Peter like she looked at that one guy from that band she likes that she ran into that one time. Tony can’t remember who it was on account of her taste in music is garbage so he refuses to listen to it. “You didn’t tell me your pretty little skater was Peter fucking Parker,” she says, throwing her hands up.

Tony shrugs, “didn’t seem relevant to your plot line,” he says, laughing as he dodges the shoe she throws at him. Peter laughs a little too, looking comfortable and happy in the pretty light pink cashmere sweater Tony got him.

“Not relevant to my plot line? Oh my god I’m going to kill you,” she says, running after him and Tony’s got no choice but to dodge her, running off in the last direction he saw Bucky in. Thankfully he’s not far off.

“Deal with your insane wife,” he yells at him as he runs past. Bucky happens to have fast reflexes and he scoops Natasha from the floor despite her protests and squirming.

“If you don’t drop me right now I will go Bobbit on your ass,” she tells him and she looks pretty serious about it too. Tony winces but hey, its not his dick so he’s not terribly concerned.

Bucky looks conflicted though, giving Tony a panicked look before giving Natasha the same look. Then he turns to Peter, who looks amused. “Let her go, this seems like it could be fun to watch,” he says and Bucky shrugs.

“Yeah, sounds good,” he says, clearly looking for an excuse to save his own dick.

“Who do you work for?” he snaps as he runs off, Nat hot on his heels.

“I’m not getting involved in whatever this is,” Bucky yells back. God damn flake. Tony might be pissed if it weren’t reasonable to be more afraid of Natasha than him. Out of the two of them she’s considerably less forgiving.

Peter is looking around Tony’s room, their room he guesses, in awe when Natasha finds him. Something tells him she’s dangerous and its not just the way she moves, clearly aware of her own body in a way that Peter is sure isn’t due to playing a spot. That and she looks about ready to kill anyone at a moment’s notice.

She eyes him, considering him for a moment before she seems to soften some. “The thing you need to know about Tony is that he’s one hundred percent in or one hundred percent out. Probably his worst flaw and there are way more where that came from,” she says. “I hope you’re prepared for that.”

Yeah, Peter already knows about the whole in or out thing, he’s currently living it. No one spends thousands of dollars on a skating outfit because they’re only kind of interested. “I don’t mind that,” he says honestly because he doesn’t. Whatever Tony’s deal is Peter likes the way he feels with him, the way Tony makes him feel like he’s actually worth something.

“You sure? Because his annoying tendency to love people gets old fast,” she says.

“You kind of sound like a sociopath. No offense,” he says.

Natasha shrugs, “I take that as a compliment. Means I can get the job done and I don’t feel bad about like like Tony does,” she says far too casually and Peter suspects he’s about to learn what Tony’s deal actually is.

“And that is?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Natasha,” Tony says from the doorway somewhat harshly. “Get out of my room.” He kind of sounds like a child but its pretty clear he and Natasha have a very... sibling like relationship. Not that he knows what that’s like but Ned has told him horror stories of locking his brother in the basement because he irritated him or some other thing. He hasn’t talked to Ned in forever too so he should probably call him.

“Tell your boy toy you’re a mob boss so he doesn’t get blind sighted by it,” she says, patting his shoulder on the way out. Tony grits his teeth, glaring after her and-

“What?”

Tony sighs, stepping forward and Peter knows he should step back but he doesn’t. “Baby,” Tony says and he takes another step forward when Peter doesn’t move. “Its... complicated,” he says eventually.

Peter still doesn’t move and he knows he should, should get the hell out of dodge but he can’t bring himself to go, not when he likes Tony so much. Not when it feels like he’s just entered into a fairytale and this is real life, there’s bound to be snags that a Disney story would never portray.

“What exactly does that mean?” he asks, unsure what to even ask here.

Tony takes another quick few steps forward and circles his arms around Peter’s waist. He leans into it, smiling when Tony runs his hands up and down his back. “I’ll be honest and say its probably better you didn’t know. Saves you from having to deal with being interrogated by cops,” he says softly. Also, Peter thinks, saves him from giving away any information to someone who might want to see Tony taken out of the picture. Whatever picture that might be. Ned’s going to tell him his thing for bad boys has gotten wildly out of hand and-

“I want a divorce,” he says.

Tony, the poor thing, looks confused. “We aren’t married. Yet,” he says, smiling softly down at Peter.

He grins back, happy. “Not to you, no. From Quent,” he says, laughing a little.

The elated look on Tony’s face has Peter erasing any worry he has about Tony’s extra curricular activities. He can deal with that later, if ever. Right now Tony lifts him into the air and Peter wraps his legs around Tony’s waist and kisses him soft and slow in the way he’s learned Tony likes. Tony makes him happy and he’s sure he can make Tony happy too.

#tony stark x peter parker #starker #alternate universe #fanfiction

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ruthoakenshield · 3 years

Text

Thorin and the Gem Carver (Part 11)

It’s been a few days since the dinner where you fell asleep listening to the music and Thorin singing softly to you. He has come to see you daily, along with Balin and Dwalin.

Galadriel spends her days keeping you company, and encouraging you to keep practicing with your hands. You are frustrated at your lack of strength in your arms and hands and grumble about it. “How can a fall down a ravine make me lose so much strength???” you rumble.

“Sweetheart, when you fell, you broke both your arms! Elrond and his sons were able to heal the bones and the muscle, but it is up to you to regain the strength.” Galadriel reminds you gently.

You sigh. “I miss carving. I’m tired of sitting all the time and having to be carried everywhere!” you grumble.

Galadriel frowns. “You need to be patient, Jade. Healing and regaining strength takes time. One day you will be able to walk and carve once again, but you will have to start carving soft woods and then gradually work back into carving gems, like you did when you first started.” She tells you. You just pout and try to cross your arms and growl that you can’t even do that.

She sighs.

“How about we go for a walk and perhaps you can see some more of the kingdom?” she offers. You nod.

She summons one of the guards and asks them to find someone willing and able to carry you around for a few hours. That you wish to see some of the kingdom as you are tired of staring at the walls of your room.

He nods and hurries to find someone from the company.

Soon Bofur and Kili arrive and happily agree to show you around. “Thorin, Dwalin, Balin, and Fili are stuck in meetings with the Council all morning otherwise they’d have come.” Kili explains. Galadriel nods.

Bofur comes over to you and asks what you’d like to see in the mountain. You shrug. “I don’t know. Whatever you’d like to show me, I guess.” You reply. He grins and nods.

Carefully Bofur picks you up and shifts you in his arms for a moment. “You don’t weigh much, Lass. They feedin’ you up here?” he teases, knowing full well they do. You chuckle and nod. Galadriel laughs her melodic laugh and Bofur blushes. Kili offers Galadriel his arm, and they head out of your room with Bofur and you following. You look at the walls of the hallway and notice carvings on them. “Bofur, what are these carvings on the walls?” you ask. He walks over to them so you can see them.

When you reach out to touch the wall, both Bofur, Kili and Galadriel all feel the mountain pulse with energy at your gentle caress. Galadriel smiles knowingly, and Bombur and Kili look at her wide-eyed. Bofur explains that the carvings are instructions to different locations in the mountain from that point.

“Oh! So, they are like the equivalent of humans’ street signs.” You exclaim. He thinks for a minute, then nods. “Yeah, I never thought of it like that, but I guess so!” he says.

The four of you continue to walk along the corridors and hallways of the mountain. Occasionally, a dwarf will stop to say ‘hello’ and chat with you all, They are curious why Bofur is carrying you, and are curious about your unusual hair colors. Despite their curiosity, they are polite and give you genuine smiles and encouragement.

“Would you like to see the gardens that Bilbo the Hobbit planted before he left?” he asks you. “I believe Galadriel has already seen them, but you haven’t.” he asks you.

You shrug, “Okay.” You say. They take you to the gardens. When the doors of the crystal encased room are opened, you gasp as a wave of floral scents and warm, moist air blast your face. The air is heavily scented with various floral notes, and it is heavy with moisture. “Oh! This is lovely!” you exclaim happily.

Bofur slowly walks around the perimeter letting you enjoy the different plants and flowers, smelling them and picking a few until you had a nice little bundle. Kili gives you a blue cord to tie the bunch together and he pulls out a cloth from his pocket and dunks it into the fountain to get it wet. “Here, wrap the ends of the flowers in this until you can get them into a vase of water, so they won’t wilt.” He tells you. You wrap it around the ends and tie it securely. “Thank You, Kili.” You say.

He winks and grins. “What else would you like to see? There’s no market today, but there’s the forges, the gem rooms, the training rooms where we do mock battles, the music rooms, there’s the library…” he lists off some of the favourite places the dwarves like to be at.

“Ooohh, can we go see the library?” you ask. ‘Adadnamad (Father’s Sister) has been talking about it non-stop since she saw it!” you giggle. “As the Lass wishes.” Bofur says and starts to head for the doors to the greenhouse.

Galadriel had also gathered a bundle of flowers that Kili had given her a cord and wet cloth to wrap around the ends as well. She followed you and Bofur with Kili bringing up the rear and closing the doors.

The four of you headed a few floors lower and you gawked at the sights along the way. Occasionally, you’d ask Bofur to stop so you could admire some carving or another. Each time you touched them, the mountain would pulse gently with energy. Happily giving you a minute boost in your strength, wanting you to get better. You did not know this was happening, but Galadriel did. She would grin, each time she felt it happen.

Bofur’s arms were starting to get sore, so he and Kili switched. Kili gently carried you now into the Library and you gasped at the sight of so many books. “OH!!!! There’s so many of them!!! This library is almost as big as Lord Elrond’s!” you exclaim, making the dwarves chuckle and Galadriel smirk.

Ori comes over and greets you all and gives you all a tour, explaining what each section is and how it is organized. “Oh, wow! Ori, you should teach the librarians in the White City how to organize a library! Theirs could be so lovely, but is in disarray. No rhyme nor reason to how it is laid out. Just books and parchments stacked all over the rooms!” you exclaim. He blushes. “Well, it’s taken a very long time to get to this point. You should’ve seen it when we first got back into the mountain! What a mess!!!” he tells you.

He explains how all the dwarves were instructed to bring any books, parchments, and maps to the library if they are found elsewhere in the mountain so they could be catalogued and organized. “We still have a few things in the “lost and found” section where families haven’t claimed their families’ lost books, parchments, and maps.” He tells you.

Curious, you ask if there are any from your family. He goes over and looks. “Actually, there is!” he exclaims. “Here. This was your Mother’s book. I think it was one she drew different patterns into for carving and other ideas and plans she had for different projects she worked on as far as I could tell. And here are some maps that your parents used when they traveled Middle Earth.” He tells you, handing you the book and maps. . Your eyes get glassy and you caress the book. Keep the maps here, Ori. Consider them a donation to the library so that others can use them if needed. My traveling days seem to be done.” You say quietly.

Kili frowns. “I never knew my Mother. I don’t even know what she looked like.” You say so quietly, only Kili and Galadriel hear you. Kili couldn’t fathom not knowing his Mother, but he understands what you’re saying, since he has no memories of his Father. “I understand the feeling, Jade. I never knew my Adad. He died before I was born.” He tells you. “I only know him from the stories of him others have told me.” He adds.

“My Adad never spoke of my Amad. All he’d say was that she was his One and he lost her the day I was born in Rohan.” You say. “I know nothing else about her.”

“I knew your Mother well, Jade.” Galadriel tells you. “She carved many things for us along with your Father. She was as much a Master Gem carver as you are.” She says. “When I return to Lothlorian, I will have one of my Elves carve you a small statue of her and one of your Father so you can see what she looked like when she’d come to see us. And I will ask my elves to write down any stories of her and your Father they can remember so that you may know of her through them.” she promises. “Do you still remember how to read our language, Jade?” Galadriel asks. You nod and thank her.

You yawn and apologize. “Thank you, Master Ori, for giving us the tour of your lovely library. I look forward to exploring it when I am more able to do so.” You tell him. He grins and nods. “You’re always welcome here, Lady Jade.” He says with a small bow.

Kili grins and then starts to head out of the library with you and Galadriel and Bofur in tow. “Where to next, Lass?” Bofur asks. You shrug. Just then a large Raven flies into the hallway where everyone was standing. Kili moves over to a bench and sets you down for a moment. “Bofur can you hold her up so I can see what Rorac wants?” he asks.

Bofur comes over and sits beside you. “Here, Lass, lean against me so you don’t topple over.” He says with a chuckle. You do so and watch as Kili approaches the huge, black bird. He holds out his arm and it flies up and lands on his arm. It squawks at Kili and Kili listens, then says something back to the bird. It nods and Kili gives it a treat. Then walks over to you still holding the bird.

Jade, this is Uncle’s raven, Rorac. Rorac, this is Uncle’s One, her name is Jade.” He introduces the two of you to each other. Rorac bows gracefully and when he rises you nod at him. Nice to meet you Rorac. I have never seen a Raven up close before. I did not realize how big Ravens are compared to other birds. And your feathers are so shiny! They remind me of Obsidian that I used to carve for the men in the wilderness.” You tell the bird. It squawks and you look at Kili with a confused look. He says something to the bird, and it nods.

Rorac says he is happy to meet you too and thanks you for the compliments. He says he has never seen a dwarf with such long and beautiful hair. He wondered why half of it was blue though.” He tells you.

“Oh, well, it wasn’t always like that, Rorac. It used to be white like up here at the top of my head. But a nasty, bitter human witch yanked my braid and threw it into a vat of blue dye and casted a curse on me. Ever since then, the dye will not wash out. But Thorin says that he spoke with Mahal and Yavannah, and that they promised to undo the curse and that when I have my first child, the blue will begin to fade and my hair will once again be white.” You explain quietly.

Rorac ruffles his feathers in agitation when he hears your account. He squawks and you can tell he is upset about something. You look to Kili, who is listening to the bird’s squawks.

“He says he is disturbed to hear someone would do such a nasty thing to you. He is sorry your hair was dyed, but says it looks lovely on you. He also said he is glad to know that the gods have removed the curse on you that the nasty woman cast. He tells you he looks forward to serving you when you become Thorin’s Queen, should he ask you to marry him.”

You look surprised. “Oh! Um, thank you!” you say anxiously. Rorac bows again and squawks something to Kili and then flies off.

He says lunch will be served in a half hour and that Uncle will meet us in the Royal dining hall.” Kili informs you all. “Kili, how is it you can understand Rorac?” you ask. He chuckles. “Those of the line of Durin are able to understand them. Once we marry, our spouse also gains the ability. When Uncle asks you to marry him, you will be able to understand the ravens too once the wedding is over.” He tells you. “It is one of the wedding gifts Yavanna grants those who marry a Durin.” He adds.

You nod and Bofur picks you up again. “Let’s get you back to yer room so you can get ready fer lunch, Lass.” He says and you sigh and nod.

Galadriel frowns, seeing something is bothering you. She asks you in your mind if you are alright. You sigh and reply back to her in your thoughts, “I’m just tired and nervous.” You sigh and lean your head against Bofur’s shoulder. “Thank you for carrying me all over, Bofur.” You say quietly.

“Any time, Lass.” He replies and gives you a gentle squeeze as he walks. “You okay?” he asks. “Just tired and nervous.” You say quietly. He frowns. “Whatcha nervous about?” he inquires quietly. “It’s nothing important, Bofur. Just some things I didn’t think about till now.” you say, evading answering the question.” He hums, “Well, try not to let it bug you too much. We all love and adore ya, Lass. We’re here to help you and make you comfortable, however you need.” He tells you. “All you gotta do is let us know what it is you want or need, and we’ll do our best to get it for you.” He adds.

“Now, here’s yer suite.” He says as the guards open the doors for you all. “Where do ya want me to put ya?” Bofur asks you. “In my room, please.” You respond.

He takes you to your room, followed by Galadriel and a couple maids. Bofur gently sets you on an armchair by the fireplace and the vanity. “There ya go Lass. I’ll let you lovely ladies get Jade ready for lunch.” He says, then heads out with Kili after Kili gives you a gentle hug and you thank him for carrying you and for the tour.

You sit there quietly thinking about what the Raven said. “Me being queen of the dwarves?!?” you thought to yourself. “How can I be queen when I can’t even take care of myself?!?” you wonder. “I know nothing about ruling anyone! I can’t do this!” you think.

The urge to flee the situation flares up, but you sigh, remembering you promised Elrond no more running. You feel trapped, both by your promise and your injuries, and despite everyone being so kind and helpful, you can’t help but feeling like a caged beast now.

Galadriel watches you as you sit in the chair thinking. “Jade?” she asks, but you don’t hear her. She sighs, “Jade?” she tries through your mind, and suddenly hears your self-doubts and realizes why you are so quiet and upset.

You raise your gaze to her when you hear her in your mind. You look at her with tired, sad eyes. “I can’t do this, Galadriel. I feel like a caged beast, despite how nice everyone is being.” You tell her through your thoughts. “How can I be a queen of these dwarves when I can’t even take care of myself?!?” you think to her.

She sighs, “You can do this, Sweetheart. Just take things one day at a time. In time, you will be able to care for yourself and others. This paralysis and decreased strength won’t last forever.” She encourages.

You sigh. “I know, but I still feel caged. Trapped and unable to escape.” You tell her in your thoughts. “Jade, you promised to stop running.” She says in your mind sternly. “I know.” You reply with a sigh. “What do I do? What’s wrong with me that I’m so ungrateful? Everyone is being so nice and helpful, yet still I am not happy. I miss Poppa. I wish he were here.” You say to her in your thoughts.

“Honey, you’re grieving the loss of your independence, even though it is temporary. It’s a natural part of the grieving process. This too shall pass.” She encourages. “Do not be afraid to talk about your feelings with us.” she reminds you.

“Come now, we need to get dressed for lunch. Is this what you wish to wear?” she asks “Or do you wish to put something else on?” she inquires as she takes the bouquet of flowers from your lap and hands them to the maid, asking her to put them in water for you. She takes your Mother’s book and sets it on the small round table next to you. Taking your hands, she squats down and looks into your eyes. She sees the hurt and confusion and worry and emptiness you are feeling.

She reaches up and cups your cheek with her hand. “Things will get better, Jade. Do not give up hope. You have many here who love you and would do anything for you. Do not push them away. Embrace them and let them become your family.” She tells you quietly out loud.

You sigh. “Okay.” You reply. “I’m just afraid.” You say softly. “Why are you so afraid sweet Jade?” Galadriel asks in your thoughts. “You are safe and provided for.” She says. “I don’t know why. I just am. Perhaps it’s just fear of the unknown.

Although I’ve been freed of my Uncle, I still am under someone else’s control, someone I don’t know very well yet. Someone who holds such power over these dwarves and though he wants to court me, I don’t know that I want that kind of power. I don’t like being the center of attention, you know how it makes me feel.” You tell Galadriel in your thoughts.

Galadriel thinks for a moment, “Jade would it make you feel better if you chose a Father figure to hold that position of looking out for you, instead of Thorin right now?” she inquires. You shrug. “I don’t know.” You say. “Who would you like to have fill your Father’s shoes?” she asks.

You think for a few minutes, “Well I guess if I had to choose someone right now, I’d say Balin. Since Aunt is with Dwalin, it would not change our family relations between her and I. And I like how Balin hugs me and talks to me like Poppa used to do.” You say. “He seems to be a wise dwarf.” You add.

Galadriel smiles. “Yes, he is a kind and wise Dwarf, sweet Jade. He will make a very good Father figure for you.” She tells you as she cups your cheek. “Now, would you like to talk to Balin about it after lunch?” she asks. You nod. “I will let him know.” She tells you. “Now, we need to hurry and get you ready.” She says. “Are you wishing to change clothes?” she asks.

You look down at the blue velvet day dress you were in. You shrug. “I don’t know. What do you suggest?” you ask her. Galadriel grins and goes to your closet. She pulls out a beautiful gown and holds it out with a raised eyebrow.

It is a beautiful, pale gold chiffon gown, with a high yoke, stiff collar and a low scoop neck in front. The gown had short cap sleeves and there was no beading or embellishments on the entire gown, save for a fine gold and pearl diamond shaped clasp for the narrow pale gold matching belt around the waist. The dress was fitted from the bust through the thighs until it reached the knees, where it cascaded to the ground. The pale golden threads made it sparkle and gleam.

Your eyes open wide and you wonder where the dress came from. You nod and Galadriel grins. She and the maids help you out of your day dress and leave your corset on then help you into the golden gown. You stare at yourself in it and Galadrial helps you stand long enough for the maids to work the fabric down past your ass and then she sits you back into the chair.

“You look wonderful in the gown, Jade.” She tells you with a mischievous smile. “How about we pick some jewelry with color to go with the gown?” she suggests. You nod and she hands you a jewelry box. You open it and gasp, looking up at her with a confused expression. “Thorin brought these for you to use when they were preparing the room for you. He gave a similar one to your Aunt.” She informs you.

Your eyes glaze over and you sit there astonished at the beautiful jewelry in all different colors imaginable.

Galadriel helps you pick out some simple gold jewelry that contain green fire opal stones and some emeralds as well. There were two rings, a pair of stud earrings, a necklace, a bracelet , a tiara, and several dozen hair pins all obviously part of a set.

Then she allows the dwarven maids to do your hair into a beautiful Dwarven diamond braided hairstyle that ran the entire length of your hair, encasing it in the beautiful sections of the diamonds. Scattered throughout the diamond braids at the widest points of each diamond shape, the small green fire opal hair pins were inserted, and gold hair beads that had green fire opals in them were used at the narrow points between each diamond.

Atop your head in the front, they placed a small tiara of green fire opals set in gold settings on gold wire. Which the ends nestled into the first section of the strands used to do the first diamond of hair in the back.

Your long braid was folded back up on itself and was attached up under your hair at the base of the scalp so it didn’t drag on the floor and trip someone as you sat in the wheel chair. And this way the gems could be seen from both sides if you flipped it over either of your shoulders.

You looked at yourself in the mirror. Your moonlight white hair and the blue ends of your hair, both really set off the green and blue marbled fire opals. You did look stunning with the gold dress and the gems, but you felt it wasn’t truly you looking back. It felt like a stranger was peering back at you in the mirror. You were not used to such lavishness and living a life of luxury and it made you feel uncomfortable.

Galadriel sensed your uneasiness. “What is it that troubles you, Jade?” she inquires in your mind. You sigh. “I look in the mirror and it feels like a stranger is staring back at me.” You tell her using your thoughts. “This isn’t me. I’ve never lived this lifestyle of luxury before and it makes me uncomfortable to be drowning in such lavishness.” You tell her silently.

“I’m used to leather, and wool and cotton, carving the gems for others to turn into jewelry or hair beads. The only gems I ever owned were my jade naming beads, and my silver and green fire opal Master Gem Carver beads you and Elrond each gave me. I feel bad that the beautiful courting beads Thorin gave me are down by my feet where people won’t see them, but I don’t dare cut just those two sections of my hair just to shorten them so the beads can be seen. They are so beautiful, though.” You explain silently to Galadriel.”

“Hmmmm.” She says. “Ladies, do you have any suggestions for shortening the courting braids, that does not involve cutting them, so that Thorin’s courting beads can be seen instead of hanging at Jade’s feet?” she asks the Dwarven maids who did your hair.

They think for a few moments and play around with a few ideas. Finally, one of the maids takes the braids, brings them up to just below the tiara. She uses plain silver hair pins to create a similar diamond pattern going from your temple where Thorin started the braid, to the side, where the hair was used to do the braid at the back of your head, then the courting braid was brought back and pinned, creating the bottom half of the diamonds. She repeated it inside the diamonds going around them once, then the remaining tail was just the right length. It was tucked under the diamond pattern’s lower two sections and pinned heavily to keep it secure.

She repeated the process on the other side, and you grinned. Liking how Thorin’s intricate braid created an interesting pattern when the maid used it to make the diamond shapes.

You take your mother’s book and flip to a blank page. You ask a maid for a pencil and she goes to fetch you one. You carefully draw out the pattern you see in the mirror as the other maid holds the mirror steady for you. Once you finish drawing it, there is a knock at the door and a maid goes to open it.

Standing at the door with your wheeled chair is Balin. He sees you sitting in the chair by the vanity and smiles brightly. “Ahh, there you are, Lass. Did you have a good morning?” he inquires as he pushes the wheeled chair over to you.

You shrug. “It was alright. Kili and Bofur gave me a small tour of some of the places in Erebor since I needed to get out of here for a while and see something else.” You explain.

“What did you see?” he asks. “We saw the gardens that a hobbit planted before he left here, and we saw the library. I got to meet Thorin’s raven Rorac? I think it’s name was.” You say unsure.

Balin chuckles and nods. “Aye, Jade. It’s Rorac.” He confirms. “You look lovely, are you ready for some lunch? Thorin worked up an appetite with the Council meetings. They weren’t too happy about his edict and were raising a ruckus.” He sighs.

You frown. “I’m sorry to have caused him all this trouble, Balin.” You say, ducking your head.

He leans down and gently grasps your chin, tilting it up to have you look at him. “It’s been a long time coming, Lass. Thorin was tiring of being pushed to marry. The council members, for the most part are all older and are used to the old ways. I think Thorin had a good point. It wasn’t until after arranged marriages were instituted, that the dwarrowdam population started to plummet and more males started being born. I agree with Thorin that Mahal and Yavanna were upset that their creation was being forced to marry dwarves who were not their Ones.

Time will tell if our dwarrowdam population will start to increase now that the edict has been made. Like it or not, it is law now and they can not change it. Only the King can do that. Thorin nor Fili will ever agree to that so there is no worries.” He informs you.

You sigh and nod. “Jade, are you sure you’re feeling alright. You seem so quiet today. Are you hurting?” Balin asks as he looks down at you. “I’m just tired and restless.” You say quietly.

“Hmmm. What else is bothering you?” he inquires, squatting down to look you in the face. His hand caresses your jawline and your soft beard. You sigh. “I just miss Poppa. I miss talking to him. He always knew what to say to alleviate my worries when I’d start to get scared or worried.” You say.

Balin frowns slightly. “What are you worried about, Lass?” he asks. You sigh. Rorac said he looked forward to serving me after Thorin asks me to marry him.” you say quietly. “I-I-I- I don’t know if I could handle being Queen. I can’t take care of myself and certainly not anyone else! I know nothing of royal life, all this…” you indicate the luxuries around you, “… it all is nothing like I’ve ever had before and even this…” you indicate your attire and hair, “I look in the mirror and I don’t see me. I see a stranger looking back at me.” You say and your eyes get glassy. “I feel like I don’t belong here. I feel caged both by my promise to stop running to Elrond and now my injuries.” You start to cry.

Balin sighs and pulls you in for a hug. “I know, Lass, it’s a lot of changes for you to adjust to. I’m sorry you’re feeling trapped. I suppose after wandering all your life from place to place, it is hard to settle down in just one spot.” He tells you.

You nod. “How about I see if we can arrange a trip to Dale tomorrow. Would you like to get out of the mountain for a day and go to see Tilda and Sigrid?” he asks. You look up and give him a hopeful expression. “Oh! That would be lovely!” you say. “We’ll have to take it slow so your back doesn’t get jarred too much. I’ll talk with Thorin about it tonight.” He tells you.

“Balin,” you say quietly. “Thorin said I was supposed to choose someone to step into Poppa’s shoes and I was wondering if you’d like to do that for me?” you ask sheepishly, playing with the fabric of your gown, wrapping it around your finger nervously.

Balin’s eyes get glassy and he swallows hard. “It would be an honor, Sweet Jade, to adopt you, Lass. I never thought I’d ever be blessed with a child. I would be happy to have you as my Nâthuê kurdu (daughter of my heart). It would delight me to no end to step into the role as a Father, provider, and protector of you, since my Brother is stepping into the role of protector and provider for your Aunt.” He tells you tilting your chin up towards his face once more.

You gaze up at his kind face and see he is truly delighted as his eyes are glassy and look incredibly happy. He grins happily, leans forward and kisses your forehead, tickling your face with his full beard, then gently rests his against yours. He sighs happily smelling the scent of jasmine and lavender on your hair and skin. You close your eyes and bask in his scent of pipe tobacco, parchment and evergreens.

“Dolzekh menu, ‘Ibinê!” (Thank you, my gem!) he tells you. “Dolzekh menu, Adad.” (Thank you, Father.) You reply, making him chuckle. “That’s gonna take a bit of getting used to being called that, ‘Ibinê.” He chuckles again.

Galadriel stands off to the side of the vanity watching your exchange with Balin. She smiles happily seeing the two of you bonding and trying to work through your fears. She knows you are going to need his wisdom and assurances to get through this trying time. Your tendency to want to run when you get scared will keep him on his toes and Thorin as well. She hopes you can learn to talk with the two Dwarves and work things out, before choosing to flee from your fears in the future.

“Come, are you ready and we can tell Thorin of your decision?” he inquires. You nod and hold your hands up. Balin grins and leans down, picking you up with ease and carries you over to the wheeled chair. “Your beard is so soft, Balin.” You giggle. “It tickles.” You say, giggling again. He chuckles again and sets you down carefully. “Yours is soft too, just not nearly as full as mine.” He says with twinkling, happy eyes and gives your jaw a fond caress. “Ready?” he asks. You grin and nod.

“Come Lady Galadriel, let’s go have some lunch and celebrate this happy occasion!” he says just beaming with happiness that he now gets to be blessed with a daughter.

Galadriel chuckles and follows them out into the sitting room, then out into the hallway. They head for the dining hall and Bombur’s wonderful food.

More Chapters to come.

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