#there I am sitting on the floor stretching out after a long race and BOOM not even a moment of respite | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years

Text

By the king’s hand 🐍 IX

Warnings: warnings to be added as we progress but this series may contain non-consent, violence, death, and other triggers (this chapter, noncon, trauma)

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 receive an unexpected visitor as the king behaves unexpectedly.

Note: Yay, another chapter!

Thank you. Love you guys!

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

Gilla left as the windows began to dim and a cool breeze washed over you. You remained as you had been, on your side, arms crossed, filled with rage but dragged down under a blanket of fatigue. But sleep wouldn’t cum and closing your eyes only made your head pound.

So you stared at the canopy that hung from the corner of the bed as Loki’s words echoed in your head. You might be angry with Gilla, you might never forgive her, but could you let her be punished by the merciless king and his cronies? You couldn’t deny that it was nice to have company other than the king but you couldn’t help but think of that day. If you hadn’t followed her, if you had just left her behind… would she be in your place? Would she be worse off?

It didn’t matter. You were the one thrown in the dungeons and whipped. You were the one wrenched out of them and tormented by the king’s depravity. And you were the one laying in the early evening shade wishing none of it had happened.

You heard the door to the receiving chamber and you sat up. You sat at the edge of the bed and stretched out the cramps in your arms and sides. The white silk around your body sent a shiver up your spine and you looked over as a shadow appeared in your peripheral. You ignored it as you stood and closed the window.

“The autumn has come,” Loki said as the window snapped shut. “Even the leaves begin to turn.”

You ignored him and kept your back to him as you peered through the mosaiced glass. His footsteps moved lightly along the floor as you sensed him pacing behind you.

“I am still your king. You cannot ignore me thus.” He demanded.

“Your majesty.” You said firmly and swept away from the window to sit on the bench.

He sighed and took your place by the window. He leaned against the sill as he watched you and you stared at the floor.

“What is the matter?” He asked.

You looked at him sharply and clenched your jaw. If you said all that you thought, he might just toss you to the dungeons again. Was it truly worse than here?

“Nothing, your majesty, merely awaiting your orders.” You said blithely.

His forehead wrinkled and he tapped his heel on the floor. He played with the front of his jacket and pushed his hair behind his shoulders.

“Do you know how long you were… disposed?” He asked.

“Does it matter?” You shrugged.

He watched you, his eyes strayed to the front of the white sleeping gown; it did little to hide your figure. You resisted the chill that crept through you and tilted your head.

“More than a week. Close to two.” He answered his own question. “I had my physician feed you and see that you were sustained. You did not sleep for all of it but when you were awake… well, do you recall any of it?”

You swallowed and shook your head. “So why did you not rid yourself of me then? Barely any use to be had.”

He wiggled his long fingers and pushed himself from the sill. He neared and stood before you. He looked down his long nose and you refused to look back.

“I did think of it, I cannot lie, but I spent too much time upon your training, little mouse.”

“Training?” Your eyes flicked up in disgust.

“Perhaps I might not harness your mind but your body does respond to me,” he bent and grinned as he brought his finger up under your chin, “But I might have left you overwrought. Birger did recommend I allow you some rest.”

He dragged his thumb over your lip and you recoiled. He snickered and stood straight. He backed away and strode around the chamber.

“There is a proper meal on the table. You must eat if you are to recover your strength,” he let out a long breath as he neared the door, “And for this night at least, I shall restrain myself from you.”

You sneered at him. “Am I to thank you for that? When you put me in such a state? Oh, what pious abstinence you have, my king.”

He laughed again and his tongue slid over his lip. “My king…” he mulled, “I do prefer that, little mouse.” He curled a finger towards himself, “Come. Eat. And do try not to look at me so, it riles me.”

You tore your eyes away from him and did not move. You listened to his movement and there was a gentle rustle. He neared again and a rush of air swept around you and a swath of dark fabric settled over you. Loki encased you in the black robe he often wore. He braced your arms through the cloth and pulled you to your feet.

“Be angry with me.” He chided, “It assures me that you are well.”

He turned and tugged on your wrist as he drew you with him. You were too weak to resist and in that instant, the king was being more malleable than you’d known him. So you let him and prayed he was not upon another trick. A night without his touch would be the closest to content you could hope for.

🐍

Loki slept beside you but kept away from you. You were surprised and wary of his distance but he did nothing but snore softly and twitch now and then. When he woke, he called Hal to ready him for his day, and left you as you were. His calm had you unsettled. He had a sinister patience and you knew, it would not hold out.

You rolled out of bed shortly after. The wardrobe was unlocked and you dressed in a green gown and block stockings along with a pair of beaded slippers. You ate the bread, cheese, and grapes waiting for you in the receiving chamber and sat with your thoughts before your empty plate. Your stomach was painfully thankful for the meal.

You watched noon rise through the window. The sun beamed at its apse as the scent of fall whisked in. How long had you been in the royal abode? More than a month? Maybe two? You couldn’t remember. The blur of days one into the next unsettled you. Would the rest of your life pass in the same despondence?

You were disturbed only by the noise of armor outside the door. You shuddered as you thought of Magnus and the last words he’d said to you. Loki had distracted you from the villain on the other side of the wall. What would keep him from intruding in the king’s absence and seeing through his promises?

The muffled timbre of his voice gave you pause as you began to pace. You heard boots on the stone as he was met by another. You recognized the tones but could not place them exactly. You wrung your hands as you faced the door and listened.

“The king is away,” Magnus huffed. “He is not expecting you, your highness.”

“I have seen to it that he isn’t,” the other returned. From his title, you could guess it was the king’s brother but for what reason he would come to the capital, you could not surmise. “Is the girl within?”

“The girl?” Magnus repeated.

“Do not act dumb with me, you brute,” Thor snapped, “You know of whom I speak.”

“She is but she is to receive no company but that permitted by the king.” Magnus declared.

“I am still a prince, I shall permit myself,” Thor rebuffed and the door jolted suddenly as the handle turned. The guard growled as the prince forced his way into the chamber and you retreated behind the sofa. “Ah, there you are.”

“Your highness,” you eked out as you looked around. “The king--”

“The king is at council, I know. I have come to surprise him.” Thor boomed. “And you, sweet maiden.” He approached the other side of the couch. “I see he keeps you well,” he peered down at your gown, “But I think red might suit you better.”

“There is wine in the cabinet,” you offered, uncertain what else to say.

“Perhaps later,” he said, “Why do you shy away? Do I scare you, my lady? I promise I am no villain.”

You shook your head, unable to find your voice. He chortled and rounded the sofa. You stumbled back and caught yourself on the straight back of the couch.

“I have been astride for much of the last days, perhaps you might accompany me on a walk of the gardens? I would do well to stretch my legs.” He stopped before you.

“I cannot-- Lo-- The king--”

“You let me attend to my brother. I handle him better than any.” He held out his hand. “Come, lady. As the seasons change, you would be remiss to remain pent up.”

“I don’t--” You began.

“Whatever displeasure he finds in it shall be my burden, not yours,” he insisted, “But if you should go against a prince, he will find his own recompense.”

It was a threat. A subtle one. The brothers, as dissimilar as they appeared, were more alike than any could know. You did not dare to test his words.

“I would not go against you, your highness,” you took his hand meekly, “Is it very cold outside?”

“A cloak might do you well,” he eyed the length of silk around your hips as he untied his cap with his other hand, “You might borrow mine.”

“Thank you, your highness, but I--”

“Let us be off,” he draped the red cloak over your shoulders and dropped your hand to tie it beneath your throat. “It has been a time since I was in the capital.”

He took your hand again and pulled you to the open door. Your eyes met Magnus’ as you were guided out into the corridor. He turned to face the prince.

“I should go,” Magnus said, “The king has charged me with her safety.”

“You needn’t trouble yourself,” Thor smirked, “I shall be there. She needn’t anymore protection than my own.”

“The king--”

“I will not remind you of my title again. If you are so concerned with your master, dog, why don’t you go find him?” Thor snarled.

He brushed past the guard who scowled at the dismissive gesture and led you down the corridor. You were off-balance as he tugged you along and you struggled to keep up with his long steps. The stairs proved near treacherous as your nerves had you unsteady. The stone passed you by as your thoughts raced.

As you came out in the sunlight, the prince’s hand went to the small of your back and his gait slowed. He drew you closer as he led you around the façade. The tall hedges stood at the other end of the yard and the song of birds mingled with the vines that grew over the walls of the palace.

“I was rather disappointed that my brother cut our introduction so short,” he said at last, “And he was so quick to be away I thought to come visit him instead.”

“Oh,” you watched your skirts move around your legs as you walked.

“I do love my brother, even if he does not think so.” He neared the maze of greenery and inhaled the scent of pollen and dirt. “He can be so… detached. And I was almost insulted to think he would hide anything from me. Especially a creature such as yourself. It is as if he does not trust me.” He shook his head and looked down glumly. “Why, he would not have the throne if I had not abdicated. Not that I’d want it back. He is better made for that than I.”

You said nothing. There was nothing you could say. You were a peasant and a whore. Your grasp of politics was sparse if not comical to those born to it.

“Tell me, lady, where did my brother find you? I never saw you at court before.”

You looked away and examined the bushes. You felt thin as air, ready to dissipate into nothing.

“I am not of the court, your highness.” You confessed.

“Oh? A servant then? Gods knows my father did have a taste for them as well.”

“I am-- was a crafter. I worked in my uncle’s shop.” You replied.

“Ah…” The prince thought, “And he was a patron to your uncle’s business.”

“Well… no. We worked with clay and wood more than silver or gold. He--” You blinked. How could you say it? Should you?

“You needn’t be shy with me, lady. I am only curious about my brother’s pet.” He mused and you frowned. “Oh, I see, you do not like that. Well, what should I call you? What are you to him?”

You stopped short and he turned to face you as his arm slipped from behind you. “You might guess at it but I don’t think it needs to be said.”

He chuckled and puffed his chest. “I see.” He squinted, “He always did like a woman with a will. And to think a peasant might dare to act as her own… My brother is not so complicated as he pretends.”

“Your brother will be upset you broke into his chambers, I think.”

“And as perturbed that you did go with me, my insistence be damned.” He grinned. “I am not your enemy so do not make me one.”

You averted your eyes and carried on as he turned to walk beside you once more. You were quiet, pensive. You recalled the tournament and how you had sneaked out; it was the last you had been out on your own feet. You followed the prince as he knew the labyrinth well and your gaze strayed to the thorny roses as you reached the centre.

“Sit,” he guided you to a stone bench, “I wouldn’t think Loki allows you much time without his chambers. If you were mine, I wouldn’t either.” He winked and pivoted on his heel, “Perhaps when I am here, I might find a lamb of my own.”

You watched his broad shoulders as he fingered the petals of a rose.

“I love my wife but she nears motherhood and thinks more of the child than her own husband. She isn’t of the condition to tend to my affections,” he mourned. “But a man has needs and if a wife cannot serve her husband, he musts seek them elsewhere.”

You shifted on the bench as he continued along the brush. “My brother is wise. When he finds a wife, he can retain you still. You see wives are not so… daring.”

“Surely not,” you muttered. “Are there not whores in your city?”

“Whore-- do not be so crude,” he reproached. “But I’ve not yet found any I should like as a mistress.”

You nodded as you watched his back. He continued around the border of the small square at the centre of the maze. You gripped the edge of the bench. You bent as if to stand and he didn’t seem to notice. Your heart began to patter as you stood. As the thought dared to flit through your mind.

When would you ever see the outside of the palace again? When had you so long away from the king? When had a chance ever shone so brightly before you? Why, you had been arrested upon your intrusion so how difficult should it be to reverse your trespass?

You stepped slowly along the bench. Thor bent and plucked a rich red bloom. He stood and turned to face you.

“Do you dare try it?” He wondered. “Do you think you might get far?”

Your eyes flashed and you froze. He smiled and held up the rose to his nose.

“Go on and lose yourself in these hedges. I will wait an hour before I report back your flight.” He snickered. “More than enough time.”

“What-- Why?” You sputtered.

“Because it is what you want. Because my brother did lie to me. Because I enjoy his temper.” He came closer and flicked away the rose. “Because I have been bored for months.”

“No, no. We should go back.” You deflated. “If I run…”

“He will be most unhappy. And to think what he should do to you.” He tutted. “But if you don’t run,” he pushed his cape back on your shoulders and cupped your tits. “To think what I should do.”

You shoved his hands away and fell back on the bench. You caught yourself and spun so that you came up on the other side of it. He bent and placed his hands flat on the stone. “So, my dear, do you think you might evade me for long enough? If you do, do you think you might elude my brother too?”

You blanched and your skirts caught on the bushes as you backed away.

“Oh, but let’s be fair. I shall count one hundred seconds before I seek you out.” He raised his hands and covered his eyes coyly. “Better be quick, my lady.”

You peered around in disbelief. He couldn’t be serious and yet he began to count aloud and your blood turned cold in your veins. You trembled and turned on your heel. You rushed to the other side of the square and lunged into the winding pathway. If you could retrace your steps, you might escape and tell Loki what his brother did. But the king might not believe you; surely he wouldn’t and you would be the one to atone for Thor’s lust. Though if you could escape them both…

You raced blindly along the hedges as Thor’s count faded, though it floated on the air still. When it stopped, your chest clenched. You were lost. You’d tried to recall all the way you’d come but it had all been scrambled by the adrenaline pulsing through you. You stopped and hissed as your lungs burned. You clawed at the laces along your throat and threw the cape over the hedge. You continued back and turned along another path.

You heard steps on the other side of the hedge. You stopped and listened as you walked slowly along the dirt. You heard a laugh and you got down on the ground. You slid beneath the bush, more so, into it, as the leaves pricked your skin and tickled you. You tugged your skirts after you as your ears burned at the noise of the prince’s pursuit.

“Oh ho, my lady, I know you are close.” He stomped along the next hedgeway, “A clever trick but you forget who I was raised with.”

His boots came into view as you stilled in the bushes. You hoped the green silk helped hid you amid the leaves and dying buds. He stopped and knelt for a moment. “But which way did you go? I shall sniff you out, little lamb.”

You covered your mouth as ripples of fear swallowed you up. You squeezed your eyes shut as he continued his taunting. At last, he stood and turned back the way he’d come. “I hear you…” he called ahead of him as he rushed on, “Gods, I will have you!”

You let out a breath as his voice trailed away. You didn’t dare move in fear that he might come back. Though Thor did not share the same reputation as his brother, you suspected he was just as bad.

🐍

The sun had shifted to the west when you finally emerged from the leaves. The sky continued to darken as you wove through the walkways. You stopped only when you heard the clink of armor and the call to assemble. The guards had been searching for more than an hour by then. You kept close to the bushes and sank back in as you avoided the marching sentries.

You came out near the outer walls of the palace grounds. You caught your breath against the stone and ducked down along the brush. It wasn’t far from here that you’d been caught that fateful night. As you watched Gilla climb to freedom and you were dragged back down to your oblivion.

You could see the moon as the sun began to set. It was a sliver of hope. The search carried on as you kept to the shadows and the statues. Several times, you’d nearly been caught. Each, you were certain you would. Once, you tried to start a scale of the wall but had been scared back down by the voices below.

You crept around to the gates and watched from behind the plinth of a tall statue of an ancient king. You watched from your vantage as the guards stopped each person and each cart to inspect. You might be able to sneak under the axle of one. Might.

The longer you stayed on royal grounds, the more likely you’d be found out. You couldn’t go back now and feign being lost. You couldn’t blame Thor when he’d surely already expounded a tail of your deception. You had to get out.

You stayed low as you watched the soldiers search a cart and as they moved to the other side, you approached the large wheel. You heard a thump and shout. The wheel jerked and you barely avoided being crushed as you crawled beneath the cart and hooked your arms and legs into the axel. Your skirts swept the dirt beneath you as you were rattled along.

Clear of the gates, you slowly let yourself down and laid flat until the cart passed over you completely. Stunned, you opened your eyes and felt your body, making certain you hadn’t been mangled without realising it. You sat up and peered around. The city beckoned to you. Welcome home!

If you could hide in the alleys, you could find a way out. You might even get to the next village before any knew it and from there, you’d be lost to the wind.

You took a step forward and were suddenly jolted back as an arm wrapped around your waist. The heavy mail was cold through the thin fabric of your dress and you were slammed against the wall as a shadow scowled down at you. His heavy breaths seared you in the cool night air.

You squirmed as the gauntlet stretched across your throat and you picked at it helplessly. Your slippers slid in the dirt as you beat at the angry wraith that held you. He leaned in and inhaled so that it tickled your cheek.

“Sneaky little bitch,” Magnus growled.

“Let me go!” You tried to bend his finger back. “Get off!”

He scoffed and tore you from against the wall. He turned you and gripped the back of your neck as he marched you away from the palace and down the road. He kicked your feet as you dug your heels in and thrust your forward. You realised, he wasn’t taking you back.

“Wait, where are you taking me?” You struggled as you latched onto his wrist and he squeezed until you winced. “You monster, get--”

“I’ll kick your fucking teeth in,” he snarled, “Now shut up, whore.”

“You can’t--”

“I can do whatever I want. The king’s charged me to find you. He’s angry enough, imagine how much worse it’ll be when I return empty-handed…” He sneered, “Imagine how the days will feed his temper. To think what he will do when you are eventually discovered.”

“What-- You--”

“If I have to tell you again, I’ll do worse than he ever did,” Magnus twisted your arm back and forced you ahead of him. “Not that I won’t try anyway.”

You whined as it felt as if your arm would snap. He kept on as he steered you towards the dark streets of the city and into a long alleyway.

“It’ll be a pity if his whore should turn up dead,” he snorted, “Pity either way for you.”

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

269 notes · View notes

deiliamedlini · 3 years

Text

Whumptober 2021- The Darkness I Know

Chapter 4

No. 4- Trust fall

“Do you trust me?” | taken hostage | pushed

Fic Summary: After the world as she knew it was destroyed by the corruption of Malice, Zelda allies herself with her saviors from captivity: a disgruntled former governor, an alert paramedic, a cocky pilot, an excessively overt optimist, and a blind strategist. While the corrupted, malice-filled Yiga Clan looks for revenge on them, Zelda has to learn how important it is to find family in others... and how much more dangerous the stakes become if she fails to protect them.

Previous/ Chapter Index/ Next

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Zelda’s room was an absolute prison.

There was no way that someone built this room for comfort, or peace. No one would find a sense of calm and relaxation in here. It was built to inspire fear, and that’s exactly what it did.

The door was locked, of course. No amount of jiggling the handle would do anything to help her. But when she turned, she was met by a sickening, neon orange wall, with white floors; her eyes hurt simply from looking at it all.

There was no window in the small room, but she hadn’t expected it. She figured they were in the middle of the compound, just based on what little information she’d managed to gather. But there was nothing on the walls, nothing but the painful color. It left the room feeling barren and empty; a cold place rather than somewhere warm and inviting.

The bed was small and set on a metal frame, and when she sat on it, she sank into an uncomfortable gap that had been left by an apparent, numerous occupants. And the sheets didn’t appear to have been changed in the time between people either, given their frayed, tattered, and—to Zelda’s utter dismay—odorous state.

No, this room was not meant to be lived in. This was another tactic, another measure for her to overcome. This was to scare her out of joining the Yiga, as if she had any other choice right now. Joining was the only way out.

She sat in the corner of the room on the floor, hoping that was a safer bet than the bed was, and pictured just how many people were gathered in that room. Not one of them tried to defect? Every one of them was here of their own volition?

Zelda shuddered. What if there was a ploy, a twist? What if somehow, they really could convince her to become a Malice-loving zealot? Who would she even be?

Perhaps the room was meant to test her in more ways than one, because the only time the door opened was for someone to drop off food that she was too afraid to eat, and then they’d leave with the tray and Zelda would wander the empty room trying to keep herself entertained.

She’d been in the Yiga’s hideout for a week now: three days in the cells, and four in the room.

Four, right?

She’d lost count, honestly.

On day… two—she believed—she accepted the food with caution. They wouldn’t try to pull the same trick twice, right? Besides, she’d need her strength if she wanted to have a chance of fighting.

That was what this room really did: broke people until they no longer had fight left inside them.

Before the Malice had taken over, Zelda was fresh out of school. She did some sports in high school, and she ran in her spare time, but athleticism wasn’t her forte. After, however, Zelda had become proficient in fending off the more annoying crazed creatures, and the occasional human. She could use a bow, a knife, and herself to throw an enemy off balance. But here? Here she was surrounded and completely alone.

Zelda loved rulers, but there were none in the room.

She took her arm and placed it beside the pillow she refused to use on the bed she wouldn’t sit on. The pillow was about 1 ¼’s of her arm. The blanket was 5 arms in length, and 3 wide. The door was 2. The room was 14.

Goddess, there was little else she could do to keep herself entertained.

She took her place on the floor, stretched out and groaning as her bones snapped and cracked, begging for her to be kinder to them. She flipped onto her back and let out a heavy sigh as her back thanked her.

“Let me out,” Zelda said to no one in particular, and in a very normal voice. She didn’t shout or call for help, but she needed to speak. “Please, just let me leave this stupid room!”

Her stomach growled. Weak. She was weak with hunger. Her legs didn’t want her to stand back up, and she was okay with that.

How many fibers were on the frayed end of the blanket, Zelda wondered?

It was faint, but Zelda’s ears perked up at an unfamiliar noise outside her door, causing her to sit up faster than she ever had before. It was quick, and gone in an instant, but it was there.

She crawled to her door, staying low in case… well, she didn’t know why. Just in case.

With her ear to the door, she closed her eyes to block out her other senses, and listened.

Boom!

Zelda shrieked and fell backwards as the sound of something hard and heavy connected with her door, shaking it with her head still against the wood.

There was the unmistakable sound of a scuffle, and the door shook with several thuds, occasionally followed by a grunt or two.

Then, it was silent.

Zelda ran to the door and pressed her ear there once again, but she heard nothing.

“Hey!” she finally called, banging her palm on the door as hard as she could, a surge of adrenalin bursting through her tired, sore, and hungry body. “Hey!” She tried, banging incessantly.

Zelda had hoped it would get someone’s attention. She hoped someone would open the door, and allow her to escape.

She didn’t expect to hear a man’s confused voice on the other side.

“Yes?”

Eyes bugging out, Zelda banged the door again. “Hey! Who’s this!? Let me out!”

She heard the man grunt. “Who is this? Why should I let you out?”

“Aren’t you a Yiga?” she asked jokingly.

“No.”

No?

“No?”

“No.”

Zelda let her hands slide along the wood, trying the door handle one more time, fruitlessly. “My village was massacred, I was betrayed, and they’re trying to kill me! Please let me out!”

“I don’t know you,” he said with a scoff.

Zelda banged her fists on the door. “Please! Let me out! It’s locked from the outside!”

“Stop doing that and maybe I will!”

She saw the doorknob jiggle before it stopped. “Hang on,” he said, just before she heard retreating footsteps.

She wanted to beg him not to go, but she simply held her breath and waited, trying to think of the best way to attack. There were literally no possible weapons in the room, so she imagined the door opening, and her coming out swinging instead. Of course, if they had a weapon, she’d be done for and back in the room.

Footsteps were on the other side again. “You in there?” he asked.

“Where did you think I went?”

She could hear him chuckle. “Help me out,” he said to someone else.

A woman muttered something that she couldn’t hear, but there was a thud, and the door shook.

“Back up!” the man called.

Zelda did, wondering what they were doing.

And she yelped when a giant metal sword pierced the wood.

Then again.

Another sword, and the wood was splintering.

“Goddess,” she mumbled, watching the wood be torn to pieces in random places.

It didn’t make sense until there were a few more thuds, and the center of the door was a hole just big enough for her.

“Hello?”

Zelda waited, unsure if they were just going to stab her when all was said and done. But that was probably too much effort.

“Damn,” a woman said, her voice deep and authoritative, but also melodic and charming. “That was fun.”

“Good thing we cleared this area,” the man said, his voice moving, as if he were looking around.

“Hey,” the woman said, peering at Zelda in the room. She was hunched over, so she was very tall, and her red hair was long and wild and wavy as it hung in front of her face. “Coming? We’re on a tight schedule.”

“Yes,” she breathed, rushing toward the gap.

The woman disappeared. “Can you help her out? I’m going to go find Daruk.”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

Zelda watched the woman run by the door, and a new figure replaced her.

The man was not nearly the same height as the woman, and Zelda wondered if they might actually just be the same, judging from where he stood. His partially gloved hand ran along the gap just before he shoved his whole arm inside, ready to take Zelda’s hand.

“It’ll be a tight squeeze. I’ll help pull you out.”

“How do you know I’m not really a Yiga?” she asked. “How do I know you’re not a Yiga? Am I supposed to take you at your word?”

“That would be silly. Let me prove it to you instead,” he said, wiggling his fingers.

Hesitation was not something Zelda liked experiencing, so she fought past it and gripped the man’s hard, calloused hand. His fingers closed tight around hers. “Let me know when you’re ready for me to pull.”

“I will,” she said, getting her leg up, but then getting stuck. “Oh, this is just going to hurt a bit.”

“What is?”

“I’m stuck. I think… just pull me. I just want to get out of here.”

“We don’t injure people for no reason, he said with an exasperated sigh. Come on, let me help.”

His hand didn’t move, waiting for her permission. “Fine.”

“What are you wearing?”

Zelda’s heart was already racing from the nerves, and the excitement of getting out of here. But this man… was something. “Excuse me?”

“I can’t see well. What are you wearing?”

“Pants and…”

“Good enough,” he said, reaching forward and sliding his hand quickly down her back before grabbing her by the waist of her pants and pulling her with him.

She didn’t land on the ground, but instead, found herself out of that cursed room, and in the arms of a total stranger.

Sudden tiredness washed over her. “Why did you even let me out? Do you trust me, or something?”

“No,” he snorted, letting her go when he felt she was solid. “No, but we’re already on a rescue mission. Let’s just add one more.”

“A rescue?”

“Yeah, a man with blue hair should be prisoner here. We’re here to break him out, but we’ve been scouring this place.”

“Wait, blue hair? I think I know where he is.”

The man’s blonde, messy mop hung in front of his eyes. It must be annoying, Zelda figured, but she wasn’t going to voice that opinion. Some of his hair was tied back, but not enough to be neat or helpful.

“You do?” he asked, his interest piqued.

“I believe so.”

“What’s your name so I can thank the Goddess for you at night?” he laughed, before picking up a long staff he’d leaned against a wall.

“Zelda,” she said, instinctively holding out her hand for a handshake.

“Zelda? Good to meet you. I’m Link.” He held his hand out beside hers. She stared at his hand like it were doing a trick before simply sliding her hand into his.

Smoothing her hand through her hair awkwardly, she looked around, getting her bearings. “Okay, let’s go.”

#legend of zelda #loz #loz au #breath of the wild #botw au #whumptober #whumptober2021 #whumptober 2021 #whump #no. 4 #Do you trust me #Link #Zelda #zelink #urbosa #Yiga Clan #malice #writing

15 notes · View notes

spencers-dria · 3 years

Text

Entranced by Her Touch

Someone To Stay Ch. 16

Spencer x fem reader

Spencer POV:

"What is all this?" She turns to me, a twinkle of excitement in her eyes.

"Well I know how much music means to you, and I've never had the pleasure of hearing you play."

I see the color drain quickly from her face. "Spencer I...I can't! It's been years! It wound sound..."

"Beautiful. I know anything you play would be beautiful. You'd be surprised how long muscle memory sticks around. You know, muscle memory allows us to do things like swimming or riding a bike without stopping to think or analyze each movement. The longer you played the more likely it will have stuck with you."

"Eight years" she whispers, running her fingers across the top of the keys, lightly enough to not make a sound.

"Eight years that's...wow umm...yeah I think it would be a fair assumption that you probably remember more than you realize, especially pieces you played the most, or that meant the most to you."

I realize the position I have put her in. I don't know why I didn't consider the possibility that she may be too shy to play in front of me. I guess I was just so used to seeing her be completely herself around me.

"Y-you know you r-really don't have to. I'm sorry if I made you feel pressured. If you want we can just..." I feel my confidence fade as I pull at my fingers. I keep my eyes glued to the floor, afraid to face the reality of rejection if I dare to look up. That's before I feel a soft touch on my arm. I look up to see her soft smile and the twinkle that has returned to her eyes. That's all it takes to break down any insecurities building up like walls within me.

"Spencer, I would love to." She gives my arm a reassuring squeeze. "Just give me a minute to do some boring. cheesy scales and stuff. It's been so long. I don't think I can jump in without some kind of warm up."

I turn on my heels and begin to walk off the stage, headed to my seat. I glance over my shoulder to see her propping up the lid and sitting to adjust her dress on the bench. She makes sure to get acquainted with the pedals in her heels. I smile at how happy she looks, how comfortable to be at a piano once again. It doesn't take a profiler to see how much it meant to her. I know I've made the right choice for tonight.

I settle in a seat as she finishes warming up. I can tell she's nervous as she lets out a few deep breaths, vigorously shaking her hands to try to rid them of any tremors that threaten to intrude on her performance. She takes in one last deep breath as she glances over towards me. I give her a smile and thumbs up. She laughs in response, seemingly less nervous. I'm glad I could help her in some capacity, if even for a moment.

https://youtu.be/x5ibvz38jOs

youtube

As she places her hands down, she begins to play a soft, lullaby like melody. I see the tension begin to fade away as the song picks up and she gains more confidence. It took me a moment to recognize the song, only because I had been so focused on her. It's a beautiful theme from the Deathly Hallows. How perfectly fitting, seeing as our movie nights brought us so close together.

After a minute or so, her demeanor changes along with the music. It's deeper, darker. Her face becomes more serious as I watch her pour all of herself into the music. I start to feel something, assuming it comes from the bass-like boom of the grand piano as it stretches to fill every crevice of the elaborate theater. My breath hitches in my throat and my eyes start to water. I rub at them, confused by my reaction. I'm sure there's all kinds of dust that's been stirred up.

I continue to watch her, completely mesmerized the way such dainty hands can play with such strength, such emotion. A memory quickly flashes through my mind.

"Music is so much more than just notes, Spencer. It can make you feels things you've never felt, understand your own emotions, or express them."

I had simply taken the comment as something that described her, and how she felt. For the first time I really feel the music resonate with me on an emotional level. I feel wonder and sorrow and enchantment all at once. Is this what she experiences on a regular basis? Is this why she's always listening to music, or talking about it? It's incredible to see the passion she has overflowing so effortlessly into the music.

I had planned this part of the date in an attempt to see her happy, but also to try to understand her in a new way. I never expected to learn or feel this much. She's so much more complex than I could ever fully understand, but I want to try to learn as much about her as I can.

The song quickly changes to another melody I recognize from the movies. I can practically hear the emotion in ever chord. How does she do that?

Before I know it, I'm standing on the stage behind her, unsure of how I got there. She doesn't seem to notice. She is pouring every ounce of herself into the keys.

I take a few steps closer just to be able to observe her hands. As the song slows, I notice her eyes are closed. She's not even looking at the keys anymore as she continues to the end.

She takes a deep breath in and opens her eyes. She looks out to meet my eyes but is met with a seemingly empty room. Anxiety and fear that I have left fill her eyes before I step closer, sliding onto the bench.

"Oh! You scared me for a second" she laughs. "Well, there ya go. I don't know it as well as I used to and there were definitely plenty of mistakes." Her confidence from only a minute ago starts to leak out with every self-criticism.

"Y/N stop." I reach up to turn her face toward me so that she has to look me in the eyes. I want her to see the truth and sincerity in them.

"That was...beautiful." I run my thumb over her cheek, enjoying the softness of her skin, the way she leans into my touch. "You're beautiful." I feel butterflies erupt into a flutter in my stomach at my sudden confession.

Her eyes dart down for only a moment before I see her nerves return. I decide to take a leap of faith as I slide my hand to the back of her neck, locking my fingers in her soft waves. I wait for just a moment, to read her response.

She leans in, resting her forehead against mine, not breaking eye contact. She looks into my eyes like they have the answers to the universe. She leans in just a bit more, nuzzling her nose against mine as her eyes flutter shut. She lets out a breathy giggle and I can't help but smile, laughing with her. There is something unbelievably beautiful about this moment, the racing of our hearts, the shared breath, the softness of her touch. I want to do more than just commit it to memory, like anything else in my life. I want to savor it, the sound of her laugh, the smell of her perfume, the feeling she gives me.

Unable to hold back any longer, I pull her in, kissing her gently, careful not to push her any further than she's comfortable with. She seems to have ideas of her own, placing her hands on the back of my head to pull my much deeper into the kiss. I lose all track of time and my surroundings, completely entranced by her touch.

She finally pulls back, looking at me as though I'm her favorite person in the world. "I hope this isn't a bad time to tell you... I'm crazy about you" she finally says, holding back a smirk.

I burst out in laughter. "Goofball" I jest, pulling her in for another quick kiss. "I almost forgot, I uhh...well I have something I learned for tonight."

"Spencer Reid, you learned a piece just for me?" she stands up to give me space to play.

"You don't have to go, if you don't want to." I try to hide the completely pathetic look I know is on my face. But I didn't want her to leave my side. Being with her is the comfort I need to get through this without my extra nerves.

She can see the neediness in my eyes. Based on the smile on her face as she sits back down, wrapping her arm around my waist, and I don't think she minds.

As my hands start to play the notes I had spent a few weeks learning, I look over to see her eyes light up at the sound of Where Is My Mind. I can't help but smile, proud of my success in bringing her joy.

The song is simple, not nearly as complex as what she had just performed for me, but that wasn't the point. Based on the look on her face, I can tell she remembers and that it means something to her too.

When I finally finish, I look over to see her wiping her eyes. "You remembered" she says quietly through a few sniffles.

"Of course I remembered." I turn my body on the bench to face her properly.

"Y/N, I asked you here tonight because I think it's time I showed you just how much you mean to me. This isn't new. This isn't sudden. I'm nothing if not extremely analytical and thorough."

She lets out a small laugh through tears now trickling down her face. I would be worried if it wasn't for the pure smile of joy she is unable to hold back.

"So believe me when I say I have thought about this for a long time. Pretty much since that very day." I know I don't have to elaborate; she already knows exactly when I am talking about.

"Y/N I love spending time with you and getting to know more about you each day, but I would be kidding myself if I pretended that I only wanted friendship with you any longer. I hope I'm not being too forward, and I apologize for setting this all up and asking you without any warning. I know I probably put you on the spot to join me on this date but..."

My spiral into self-doubt is cut short by the feeling of her lips on mine. I feel myself melting into her once again, worried I may never want to come back for air.

She eventually pulls back opening her mouth to respond to what I feel was quite an embarrassing display of my emotions.

"Spencer, I have been trying to figure out my feelings for you for so long. I had just been working up the courage to say something to you, but it seems you had plans of your own. This is more than I could ever..."

Tears fill her eyes once more, spilling over as she starts to turn her head away.

I scoot in to wrap her in my embrace. "Hey, hey its ok, shhhh." I rub my hand across her back, hoping to sooth her. After a few deep breaths she finds her words once again.

"This is more than I could ever ask for, ever dream of. No one has ever done anything like this for me before. No man has ever...cared this much about something I love. In so many past relationships I felt as though they were merely tolerating my quirks, including all the things I am so overtly passionate about. Tolerating me until they just...left. All I've ever wanted was someone to appreciate how passionate I can be and won't let it scare them away. Someone to stay."

I feel my heartache knowing that she has felt this way for so long. I lift her chin as I lean in to give her one gentle kiss before pulling away to whisper, "I'm not going anywhere."

A/N: I hope everyone is still enjoying the story! Let me know your thoughts in the comments 😁💖

Also sorry for how gushy this is but it won't always be that way so enjoy it while it lasts 🙊

#dr spencer reid #spencer x reader #original story #spencer #spencer reid x y/n #writing #spencerreid #criminal minds #harry potter #piano #music #deathly hallows #Spencer Reid #MGG #Matthew gray gubler #romance #first date #first kiss #new romance

26 notes · View notes

lynnsfics · 4 years

Text

The One Where There’s Only One Bed

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (Prompt List #12 “You take the bed, you need it more than me.” Gender-neutral reader)

Word Count: Approx. 1600

Warnings: Mild Language

Requests Open! See Prompt List for more details!

~~~

The door slammed behind you, rain dripping from your hair, “Well,” you stated, “that was a disaster.” It was true. The mission had taken a turn for the worse, and you had barely escaped with your lives, but unfortunately not with the intel you needed. To be fair, maybe Fury’s plan of having the literal Winter Soldier infiltrate a HYDRA base wasn’t the best.

“Hey,” Bucky said, “at least we made it out of there. It could have been worse.” You had to agree with that, HYDRA wasn’t exactly the most hospitable when it came to taking prisoners.

Only nodding in response, you sat down next to the fireplace. Thanks to Tony Stark, the AVENGERS had secret safe houses all over the place. Unfortunately, this one happened to be one of the less upgraded hideouts. Grabbing the fire stoker, you tried to get the coals to catch flame. Finally a bit of heat and smoke emerged, and you sighed in relief. You wouldn’t be dying of hypothermia tonight.

“There’s some food in the kitchen,” Bucky called out, “it’s nothing fancy, but it’ll do. Want some tomato soup?”

Nodding your head ‘yes’, you abandoned your warm spot by the fire to grab a bowl. “How long do you think we’ll have to wait for backup?”

He shrugged as he tied his hair back. “Ideally? They received our message and will be here in a couple hours. But in reality,” he paused to open the soup can, “probably not until the morning.”

You froze at his words, “Not until the morning?”

“Let’s be honest, it’s close to one in the morning and it’s raining frogs out there.”

“Hold up, raining frogs? That’s not how the saying goes.” “Well that’s how the saying goes in Bucharest,” he said with a slight smile.

You held up your hands in mock surrender, “Alright fine, you win. But if they aren’t here until morning what are we going to do about the, uh,” you felt your face flush a little, “sleeping arrangements.”

“Stark funded this place, I’m sure there’s two beds, it’ll be fine. We can go check it out in a minute, the soup’s almost ready.”

Thunder boomed overhead and you felt yourself shiver. You weren’t scared of storms, exactly, but you weren’t overly fond of them either. Being stranded in what was essentially a slightly fancy log cabin didn’t improve your current opinion of them, although some may find it cozy.

Bucky pushed a bowl of hot soup in front of you and you felt better immediately. The familiar taste of tomato filled your senses, and your stress seemed to melt away.

“Feel better,” Bucky questioned from across the counter.

“I do, but how could you tell I was upset?” “You always twist your hands when something stresses you out.” He smiled, “Don’t look so surprised, I’ve known you for almost three years now, I can tell when you’re stressed out.”

Looking down, you sighed. Of course he would be able to tell, he was always so good at reading your emotions. Well, most of them, anyway. He still didn’t know you had harbored feelings for him for the past year at least. Or at least you hoped he didn’t.

As the last of the soup swirled around your dish, you felt your eyes growing heavy. You knew you’d pass out at the counter if you didn’t head to bed soon. Leaning back, you yawned and stretched your arms over your head.

“Time to get some rest?” Bucky asked, and you nodded. Standing up, you took a look down the darkened hall. A light switch was positioned near you on the wall, and you flipped it on experimentally.

A warm glow emanated from the hall, shining a light onto a singular door at the end. Nervousness filled you as you gently made your way down the corridor. Your footsteps grew increasingly loud, seeming to reverberate off of the wood floor. Entering the room, your breath hitched. A singular king size bed sat along the middle of the wall.

Oh God, there was only one bed.

“So,” Bucky said, entering the room behind you, “remember what I said earlier? I might have been wrong.”

“Yeah, I think so,” you responded, feeling nervous. “You take the bed, you need it more than me.”

“And where will you sleep?”

After a moment of thought, you replied, “On the couch in the living room, obviously.”

“That thing is rock hard. There’s no way you’d get a good rest of that thing.” He was right, of course, but you didn’t need him to know that.

“I’ll be fine. Besides, you shouldn’t have to take the couch, you could barely fit.”

“I’m sure I could,” he answered with a scoff.

“You’re like six feet tall. I’m barely even five foot four. There’s no debate.”

Then, he said the words you’d be dreading, “Why don’t we just share the bed?” You replied quickly, heart racing, “It’d be a bit cramped I’m sure, and I-”

“The bed is king sized, no need to worry about that,” he interjected.

“Well, I,” you didn’t have any other arguments, so instead you resigned, “I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I am,” he replied with a smirk, “aren’t I always?”

“Oh haha, very funny, Barnes,” was your sarcastic retort. A second door caught your eye, and you realized there was a nice bathroom connected to the room. After running for your life and getting caught in a rainstorm, a hot shower sounded wonderful.

As soon as the door was closed behind you, you took a deep breath and sighed, How on Earth would you get through this? It wasn’t as if you hadn’t faced worse, you could name ten things more terrifying off the top of your head. But for some reason, having to spend the night next to Bucky seemed to petrify you.

“It isn’t as if he can read my thoughts,” you reassured yourself as the hot water poured from the faucet. But that wasn’t the most reassuring, because a million and one things could go wrong, and he could figure out how you felt. Not only would your friendship be ruined, but the whole team’s dynamic would be off. “Shit,” you cussed softly, “let’s hope this ends well.”

Exiting the bathroom, you saw Bucky had already pulled back the deep red quilt that had been covering the bed, and was settled in, reading a book that had been on the bedside table. He looked up, “I can turn off the light if you’re planning to head to sleep.”

“Oh, no it’s fine, I don’t mind the light being on,” you replied before crawling in the bed. Being careful to stay near the edge, your heart was hammering as you lay down. “Alright then, try to get some rest, we’ll be up early tomorrow.” You cleared your throat, hoping your voice wouldn’t sound as shaky as you felt, “Okay, sounds good.” Apparently, your strategy hadn’t worked. “Is everything alright?” “Yeah, I’m just peachy. Just tired is all.”

“Okay then,” he didn’t sound convinced, but thankfully he let the matter drop.

Closing your eyes, you surprisingly found yourself drift off quickly, and soon you were out like a light.

The light on the bedside clock shone 5:09 AM when you found yourself suddenly awake. You could have sworn you heard something in the hall, although it may have just been in your dream. But no, there it was again. A subtle scritch-scratch that made you bolt up. A shadow moved and you let out a small shriek.

Next to you, Bucky sat up quickly, “What is it? What’s wrong?” Taking a deep breath you answered, “A mouse, look.” He chuckled, and you felt yourself blush. “Doll, you work as an assassin, and yet a mouse scares you?” “Mice aren’t as predictable as people, alright?”

“Do you want me to take it outside?”

You looked over at him, “Could you?” He nodded, “No problem, I’ll be right back.”

Laying back down, you felt a bit more at ease, but did a quick scan of the room, just to be sure there weren’t any more rodent intruders. Once satisfied that you were safe, you closed your eyes, but didn’t quite drift off. You were still laying like that, eyes closed but still awake, when Bucky re-entered the room.

“The mouse is back outsi-,” he stopped talking, thinking you were back asleep. He smiled softly as he got back into the bed. “Goodnight doll,” he whispered. “I love you. If only I could find a way to tell you that while you were awake.”

Your heart felt like it stopped completely. You had to have misheard, right? Or maybe it was all a dream? Nonetheless, you couldn’t stop yourself from whispering back a gentle “I love you too.”

This time, it was Bucky who bolted up in bed, “Wait, what?”

Shit. Well, you had to face it now. Sitting up in bed, you sighed. “I said, I love you, and I have for a while,” you paused not sure how to continue, “I didn’t know how to tell you, but with all this,” you motioned to the shared bed, “it just, slipped out.”

He glanced down, and then met your eyes, “I’ve felt the same way, and when I thought you were asleep I,” he stopped talking, “Is it alright if I kiss you?” You nodded, closing the distance between you, heart pounding. As your hand found its way into his hair, a knock sounded at the bedroom door.

“Hey guys,” Sam said, entering the room, “I heard you needed backup,” the last word was barely out of his mouth before he began to back out of the room, “You know what? I’ll just come back later.”

~~~

General Taglist:

@sydneyisnotawriter

@dark-night-sky-99

Requested by: @sourpatchspinster

I wrote this instead of sleeping, so I’d like to formally apologize for any grammatical errors. Also, requests are still open (Details above)! As always, likes and reblogs are appreciated, and let me know if you want to be added to my taglist! Love you all <3

114 notes · View notes

fanfiction-g0ddess · 3 years

Text

princess knows best

au where twilight’s biggest fear is not failing a test but losing spike bcs.. hello?? why is ur biggest fear failing a TEST

word count: 2.3k

warnings: just angst!!

a/n: please don’t copy to another website

___

The blinding white faded and Twilight trotted into the throne room of Princess Celestia’s castle, before stopping with a small start.

“Huh?” she questioned, her tail swishing. The thrones were unvacant and the entire room was empty. She pulled a hoof to her chest and her gaze darted around quizzically.

“Twilight Sparkle, my faithful student.”

Twilight’s ears perked at the sound of her favorite princess in all of Equestria and she softly pivoted on her hooves. She faced Princess Celestia, ever so graceful as she stood in the hallway of her castle. Her beauty is beyond compare, her elegant multi-colored mane and tail drifting effortlessly in the air as if the wind were always fanning her. She faired beautifully despite being millenniums old and she radiated regality and brilliance. No matter the close bond she and the princess had, no matter how often she saw her mentor, the alicorn still took her breath away at times and she couldn’t help but bow to her princess.

“Princess Celestia,” she greeted, picking herself up from her submissive stance and padding over to her. She stood sideways in front of the princess and stretched out, where Celestia placed her head down on the ridge of her back, Twilight nuzzling the back of her head to the side of her mentor’s.

“You were just the pony I was looking forward to seeing. We must discuss urgent matters at once.”

Twilight blinked. It sounds important . “Oh. Okay. What do you need to discuss, princess?”

“It is regarding Spike,” she said, striding towards the throne room, Twilight in tow. “I am afraid he must leave Equestria. The Dragonlands have much more to offer a growing dragon.”

“For how long?” she asked, trotting next to Celestia. “Because I don’t feel comfortable with him staying there by himself and I have-”

“Forever.”

Twilight froze. It seemed as if time froze with her. The air stilled around her and the skin under her fur broke out into goosebumps. This couldn’t be happening. Princess Celestia would never do such a thing. She liked Spike! I should let her explain herself. Yes! She’s just kidding, just joking around. Or maybe I misheard. I must have heard her wrong. She can’t really be asking me to-

“Twilight.”

Her head snapped to where her mentor sat, on the top step leading to where her and her sister’s thrones lay.

“I know this will be difficult, believe me, but it must be done,” she spoke, her tone not betraying that of regality and elegance. Not a trace of emotion weaved its way through her voice.

“B-but why? Spike’s been raised by ponies, he’ll be eaten alive by the dragons there! And the citizens of Ponyville aren’t bothered by him, he’s a good dragon! If this is a culture thing--he wants to live among ponies, princess,” Twilight explained.

“This is not a matter of which Spike goes voluntarily.”

“S-so you’re banishing him? What reasoning do you have to banish him from all of Equestria?” she cried, lowering her body as she spoke up to her mentor.

“As much as Spike is a joy to be around, he is still a dragon . My subjects in Ponyville may be accustomed to his presence but others are not. He is terrorizing the citizens of Canterlot and the Crystal Empire everytime you two visit,” she countered, sitting up tall.

“Spike doesn’t terrorize anypony-!”

“-He may not mean to, but he does . My student, you represent me. Everytime you bring Spike along to a royal event or announce yourself as my student with Spike at your flank, that is a representation of me and my competence as a ruler. What does it show when my star student, my prized pupil, has a dragon companion?”

“I-I don’t understand. You’re the one who appointed my parents legal custody. You allowed him to stay and become a part of our family. You’re the reason he’s in Ponyville,” she said softly, ears flat against her head.

“And it was one of my biggest mistakes. It seems that even princesses have faults.”

Twilight lowered herself to the floor, tucking her legs under her body and ducking her head. Celestia stood.

“I will be asking my guards to fetch him so you two can say your goodbyes.”

“Please, princess, don’t take him,” she whispered, tears gathering in her eyes.

Princess Celestia made her way down the steps and halted in front of her pupil. The alicorn bent down and lowered herself to the floor, trying to catch Twilight’s eye. She tucked her legs as well, mimicking Twilight’s stance. She extended a neatly-trimmed wing and wrapped it around her student. Twilight raised her head, tears streaking down her face. Celestia placed a gold-plated hoof under Twilight’s chin, lifting her head and leveling it with her own.

“Twilight, look at me.” Twilight did not look.

“Twilight Sparkle, look at your princess,” she demanded, eyes betraying her calm exterior. Violet snapped to hot pink.

“What did you think was going to happen, my dear student? Did you think you and Spike were going to live together in Ponyville forever? Spike will one day grow, grow much bigger than this castle we lay in. You will die and Spike will live. Who will keep him under wraps? I have much more important means than keeping tabs on a predator in my country.”

“Spike wouldn’t attack anypony!” Twilight exclaimed, standing up.

“Oh? And is this the same Spike who after getting a few gifts for his birthday grew into a fifty-foot dragon and rampaged through Ponyville?” Celestia challenged, standing to her full height and unfurling her wings, raising them threateningly at her sides.

“You can’t judge creatures by their worst mistakes! Your sister turned into Nightmare Moon and tried to cast eternal night on Equestria, but you forgave her!” Twilight yelled, cowering before her but practically muzzle-to-muzzle with her mentor.

“That is different!” Celestia shouted in her royal canterlot voice. Twilight gripped at the floor with her hooves, awkwardly trying to stay on the ground from the sheer power emitted from the princess before her. She pawed at the ground with her front hooves, her lips and mane pulling back, her tail snapping and thrashing in the air behind her.

“How?” she cried, all but crumbling to the ground, panting and quivering. “How is it different, my princess? Because he’s a dragon? Please. Please, princess, I’ll do anything! Let me prove to you that he’s not dangerous! Please, let him stay! I’ll let him go off on his own in the Dragonlands when he’s ready, I’ll keep him confined to Ponyville, I’ll end my studies, I-I’ll stop being your student! Just please, don’t make me leave him. You can’t ask me to do that!” she implored, sobs wracking her frame.

She collapsed at her mentor’s hooves, hugging the alicorn’s front leg. She whimpered and sniffled, forehead pressed into the princess’ leg.

“I’m begging of you, please don’t take Spike...”

Celestia seemed to consider this for a moment, before resting a garnished hoof on Twilight’s head and shoving her student off. Twilight looked up at her, wide eyes pooling with tears that had long soaked the fur of her face, matting and discoloring it.

“It has already been decided.”

The frantic unicorn shook her head, her disheveled bangs catching on her drooping ears.

“No. No, you don’t get to decide that. With all due respect, Princess Celestia, you can’t banish him all because of a simple ideation or your prejudice against dragons! He’s my family! Mine! You can’t take him! He’s just a baby dragon! He won’t hurt anypony!” Twilight shouted hoarsely, practically tripping over her hooves to get in front of the princess, blocking the entrance.

“Please don’t do this, your highness. Please. There’s still time to change your mind,” she whispered, ears pressed against her head. She hadn’t called Celestia ‘your highness’ since she was a filly, but she was desperate and panicked and clinging to anything that could change the princess’ mind.

Celestia lowered her nose to nuzzle her student’s cheek and perambulated past the unicorn and through the doors of the throne room. The doors swung closed and the room was empty once more.

She curled up in the right corner closest to the doors, hiding her face in her tail. Broken sobs escaped past her lips and she wasn’t sure if the absence of hoofsteps in the hallway were because the princess teleported or if she simply couldn’t hear them over the sound of her own gasps and hiccups.

“Twilight!” A faded voice echoed through the entire room.

“Twilight!” Came the booming voice a second time, bouncing off the walls.

“TWILIGHT!” All noises were drown out by a familiar voice and her vision blurred white as the room spun around her.

Twilight shook her head, blinking hard a few times as she looked around, taking in the new but familiar surroundings. She watched as Spike raced down the obsidian steps, sharp claws clicking against the crystal staircase.

“I know you told me to stay up there but you were down here for such a long time and you weren’t answering and I got worried so I came down here and you were just staring at that wall! And I was calling your name but I couldn’t seem to get your attention and--what were you looking at?” he rambled, going off on a tangent and gesturing wildly with his claws. He waddled up curiously to the door, inspecting it.

“I mean, it’s just a wall,” he stated, before the whites of his eyes turned green and his irises and pupils turned different shades of red.

Twilight quickly pulled him back from the door, kicking the door closed with her back hoof. His eyes returned to normal while hers filled with involuntary tears.

“Twi . .?” Spike asked cautiously, claw reaching out tediously towards her. “Are you okay?”

Suddenly, the unicorn leapt at the baby dragon, tackling him to the ground. She swaddled him up in her arms, the two rolling on the floor a few times before she lazily ended up on her back, hindquarters sprawled out and tail flicking excitedly.

“SPIKE! Oh, Spike, I’m so happy to see you,” she cooed, lifting him up by the armpits in the air, his back legs and tail just barely grazing the fur on her stomach. He stared down at Twilight’s tear-stricken face, growing increasingly more concerned by the second.

“I’m . . . happy to see you too, but why are you acting so weird?” he asked, maneuvering his body to bend down, gently wiping a tear from her cheek. He was careful not to cut her skin or poke her eye out with his claw. She sniffled, letting her front legs give out. He settled on her chest and she wrapped all four legs around him, nuzzling his cheek with her nose.

“H-hey! Twi! S-stop! I’m not a hatchling anymore and, heh, your fur tickles! Knock it off!” he laughed, trying to shy away from the unicorn, who was continuing her onslaught of nuzzles and nose-kisses.

Once she was satisfied with the number of nudges and cuddles, she pushed herself up, letting Spike slide in between her hind legs. She swiped a hoof over the spines on his head and Spike looked up at her, all wide-eyed and innocent. The face that Fake-Celestia had tried to send away.

She glanced over at the door, biting the inside of her cheek.

“King Sombra’s dark magic. A door that leads to your worst fears,” she explained, pointing to the door with a hoof while wrapping her tail around Spike’s midsection.

“Did that fear have . . something to do with me?” he asked, playing with her tail and trying to smooth out the frazzled pieces.

“Yes,” she said softly.

He looked up at her again, before turning his body sideways and resting his cheek against her stomach; her soft, purple fur feeling warm and oddly cozy on his smooth scales. He propped his back legs on her left hindquarter as Twilight unraveled her tail from around him.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Not particularly,” she answered and it was the truth. She really, really did not want to think about it right now. All she wanted to do was sit with her dragon and pretend like it never happened. It wasn’t real, it was a hallucination. It shouldn’t be shaking her up so badly.

“When I have nightmares and stuff . . . you always say that it’s good to talk about it with somepony. Not good to bottle it up and all that,” he tried, glancing up at her.

“Maybe later, Spike,” she responded, giving him a soft noogie on the forehead.

They sat in silence for a few moments, just basking in each other’s company, until Spike spoke up.

“Soo . . . about King Sombra.”

Twilight’s eyes widened and she jumped up on all fours, knocking Spike over in the process. “OmigodtheCrystalEmpireKingSombratheTEST!”

She galloped over to the door, igniting her horn and blasting a stream of magenta magic into the rhombus-shaped crystal above it. A rainbow cast around the drab room and Spike looked on in awe. Twilight lifted the door’s handle with her magic and threw open the door to reveal an intensly pristine white room.

“C’mon, Spike, hop on! I have a Crystal Empire to save and a test to pass!” she exclaimed, as Spike hoisted himself onto her back and wrapped his arms around her neck, holding on tightly as she dashed up a new flight of stairs.

#twilight sparkle #mlp spike #spike the dragon #mlp fim #mlp pony #my little pony #princess celestia #big sister twi #because i said so #angst #fluff #oneshot #mlp fanfic #mlp fanfiction

13 notes · View notes

miss-tc-nova · 4 years

Text

A SOLDIER’s Memories - Cloud Strife x Fem!Reader Pt 2

Originally inspired by Panic! At the Disco’s Hurricane, I love this chapter! It also could’ve been much longer with the chocobo race, but that was kinda needless. Last note: I LOVE INFANTRY CLOUD! He’s so adorable!

Gold Saucer Magic

I stuff the clothes into a bag and, just as I get it zipped up, there’s a knock on the door. Brushing hair from my face, I pull the door open, surprised to find the infantry chocobo on the other side.

“You’re not Zack,” I state bluntly.

He avoids eye contact while a hand plays at the nape of his neck. “Uh, yeah. About that, Zack says he can’t come. So he’s sending me.”

“What?”

“They gave him a last minute mission so he gave me the tickets and said I should take you.” As proof, the blonde holds up the pair of tickets.

I put a hand on my hip. “Well that’s honestly an upgrade for me, but are you sure you’re okay with that? It’s a three day trip.”

I love when he’s bashful. “Yeah. I only had one mission and one of the other guys agreed to cover it for me.”

A smile blooms. “Great. Then let’s get going.”

Oh that poor chocobo. Since our first mission, the duo dynamic I had with Zack balanced out with the addition of the level headed boy, and not just on missions. He always tried his best to keep our antics somewhat mild, but he usually just ended up being dragged along; though he did take Sephiroth up on his word and shot Zack once. Granted, Zack was about to blow everyone up by accident, so they made up pretty quickly. As for the two of us, I find hanging out with Cloud usually ends up being my favorite part of the day. I find myself seeking him out on bad days; his calm demeanor talking me down from my emotions. He’s a huge, sweet softie and I love it. But he still suffers from motion sickness.

After one very sick boat ride and a questionable cable car, we arrive at the astounding Gold Sauce, only to find out our room has a single queen bed. There’s a bit of heckling the front desk, but the room is the only one available: it’s that or nothing. We’ve got no choice. I grumble all the while Cloud drags me out to find dinner and quell my anger. I have to admit, the show after dinner did get me to laugh.

I stare down at the single bed, my annoyance working up again. Cloud puts a hand on my shoulder. “Hey, it’s alright. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“There’s no way in hell I’m letting you sleep on the floor,” I huff, sitting on the edge of the bed. “That’s gross.”

“Really. It’s fine.”

I take a deep breath and try to remember why we’re here anyway. With a devilish grin, I look to my friend. “You afraid of sharing a bed with me?”

The reaction is instant and entertaining. With a bright red face, he stammers, “N-No! I didn’t want to be rude! I just-”

I throw a pillow. “Shut up, turn off the light, and get in the bed.” Crawling up the bed, I make sure to leave plenty of room for him. The light flickers off and, after a moment, I can feel movement on the other side and the blanket pulls a bit. “Silly chocobo.”

I hear a sigh, smile to myself, and drift to sleep.

~~~~~

I become aware of my body and the pleasant warmth around me. I snuggle against the source behind me and sigh. A weight on my leg snakes around my waist.

That’s when my brain snaps wide awake. I try to get a grip on my rapid thoughts which ultimately lead me to how comfortable I feel. In fact, this is probably the most peaceful I’ve ever felt; it’s safe. Hoping to indulge in the moment a while longer, I relax and just let it go, falling back into a peaceful doze.

The boy stirring brings me back to consciousness. There’s a light gasp and the arm flies away, but I’m too tired to tease him just yet. I didn’t foresee him gingerly replacing his hand on my side though. There’s a flurry of butterflies in my stomach when he pulls me even closer. I’m terrified he can hear my heartbeat but he relaxes. Once I’m sure my heart won’t burst from my chest, I too return to the serenity of snoozing just a bit longer.

Eventually, we have to get up. The moment I start to stretch, Cloud disappears with a jolt. Rubbing at my eye, I sit up and gently shake the blonde. “Wake up, you sleepy chocobo.”

Without turning back, he replies, “I’m up.” I can just see how red his ear is and grin.

With breakfast out of the way, we set out to wander the park, starting with the arcade area. We pass by a windowed wall where people are shooting at targets. What catches my attention though, is the chocobo plushies hanging across the top.

“Oh I need one of those!” I point them out to Cloud and drag him closer. Apparently, the goal of the game is to shoot out the entire star in the paper. After only the first few shots, I quickly realize I won’t be winning that.

Just as I raise the pellet gun again, a hand reaches out, raising the barrel a bit. “You need to line up the sights,” Cloud says, pointing out the two points on the barrel. “And you want to pull the trigger just before you breathe in.” Next, he bumps the back of the firearm higher up my shoulder. “Try that.”

I do significantly better, but I still don’t beat the game. “Damn,” I mutter.

“You picked it up pretty quickly,” comments my friend, handing the game keeper another handful of gil. I never thought Cloud had a smug bone in his body, but that smirk makes me worried that Zack and I have corrupted this pure little chocobo. Also, my heart might explode. “Let me show you how it’s done.”

I stare, slack jawed, as Cloud perfectly carves out the star with ammo to spare. Setting the rifle down, he turns back to me, still wearing that sly smile.

“What the hell was that?!”

“It’s not the first time I’ve held a pellet gun,” he confesses, some of that smugness fading.

It clicks. “That’s right. You’re a country bumpkin.”

“Shooting tin cans is a favorite pass time of my hometown.” The man running the game places a plush on the counter. He holds it out for me. “Oh, here. You wanted one, right?”

Grinning like an idiot, I wrap my arms around it. I can’t help hiding my face in it, knowing that there’s a blush rising. “He’s so cute. And he looks like you.”

His face goes blank. “Gee. Thanks.”

I giggle. “Thanks Cloud.”

We resume our wandering, have lunch, and generally enjoy the park. Then we stumble upon Chocobo Square.

I squeal, picking up the pace. “Oh my god! Cloud! I found your people!”

“I’m never going to shake this chocobo thing, am I,” he sighs.

The birds race past the fence. “This is so cool!”

“You can try it if you want.” Cloud points out the signup counter. My smiling gasp confirms my excitement. “Have fun.”

I grab his arm. “Oh come on! Come with me!”

“I’m good.”

“Please!” The longer he stares, the more uncomfortable he gets and he caves. Before long, we’re saddled up in the stalls. “You gonna be okay there, bird boy?” Cloud rolls his eyes. “Wanna make a bet?”

At first, I expect him to back down, but he shrugs. “Sure.”

“Loser buys dinner.”

“That’s it?”

“Come on. I was trying to be nice,” I goad.

He thinks on it. “How about an unconditional favor.” I tilt my head. “Loser owes the winner a favor whenever they request it. No exceptions.” That smirk comes back. “They just do it.”

“Ooo! I like it.” The red light flashes and I tense. “Don’t let your motion sickness get in the way.”

Cloud leans forward and the light goes orange. “You’re not winning this one.”

The light turns green and the stalls burst open. It was so close, neck and neck the entire way, but ultimately, I lose.

“I’m beginning to think you’re cheating,” I say, following the winner from the stables.

“You’re just mad you owe me a favor.”

“Speaking of which, when is that happening?” We head for the food court.

“Dunno. Think I’ll hold off for a while, save it for when I really need something.” Smug, mischievous; perhaps we really did corrupt our innocent Cloud.

“Now that’s just rude.”

I pay for dinner as promised and we stroll for awhile until Cloud decides on our next attraction: the gondola. The hanging craft seems popular this time of night but we eventually board. I pat the seat beside me which he takes.

“Hey, picture!” I blurt out, holding up my phone. Cloud doesn’t get a chance to figure out what I said by the time I snap the picture, giving an adorable, innocent face. “Nice.”

“You didn’t give me any warning,” he protests, only to be met with laughter.

“Well I like it. I think I’ll have a copy printed.”

“I wish you wouldn’t.” The scenery of the glowing Gold Saucer is beautiful and we watch in silence until he speaks again. “Did you…notice anything weird this morning?”

Of course I think about our morning cuddle, but he thinks I didn’t notice and I don’t know if I’m prepared for that level of flustered Cloud, or flustered me.

“No. Why?”

“Uh, nothing. I must’ve dreamt it.”

Not exactly.

A loud boom goes off and I flinch, prepared for a fight. I’m filled with dismay when Cloud laughs, putting a hand on my shoulder.

“Calm down. It’s just fireworks.”

“O-Oh. Right.” A hand nervously sifts through my hair before hiding my face against it. As the firework show goes, I think about just how amazing today has been; I need to give Zack my thanks for this later.

“You okay?”

I peer up at him, once again captured in the depths of his eyes. But I look away before I can be pulled in. “Yeah. Thanks for coming with me. I think this is the best birthday I’ve ever had.”

“Birthday?! Why didn’t you tell me it was your birthday?”

I shrug. “It just didn’t seem important. I preferred remember this as a great day with a great person rather than the day I was born. Honestly, I’d probably be working if Zack hadn’t stuck his nose in my business. I’d be pissed that he ditched me if he hadn’t sent a better replacement.”

Cloud’s voice, soft and warm, is right by my ear. “I’m glad you had fun then.”

I don’t really think about it, but I lean against Cloud. “I really did. Thank you.”

The firework show continues and eventually slips from my mind. My thoughts venture down the rabbit hole, coming up with bolder and bolder ideas until I drag my gaze back to Cloud. I didn’t expect him to be so close and hesitate. The pink dancing across his nose and I can tell he’s unsure as well. Steeling my nerves, I turn towards him, slipping a hand onto his chest. By the fabric of his shirt, I pull him closer, feeling his heart pound beneath my fist.

“H-Hey.” His voice is barely above a whisper. “What are we doing?” Despite the question, it’s clear he knows.

I’m not much louder. “You stupid chocobo.”

His lips are softer than I imagined with a slight chill from the night air. He doesn’t pull away, but seems hesitant. I give him several brief kisses, practically begging him for something. He takes it, that hand moving from my shoulder to my lower back to pull me in and kissing back. It’s naïve, like this is his first kiss but he’s as eager as a starving man. I always thought maybe I was the wolf in this relationship; maybe I was wrong, not that it matters. He’s got no idea just how much of a mess I am inside, but I’m in love. In love with someone so kind and genuine that I never had a chance.

Breaking away, I stay close, trying to rein in my breath, my heart, everything.

“Are you okay?” he asks, breathing just as heavily.

A breathy laugh escapes me. “Never better.”

“Good.” His lips to my forehead don’t exactly help. “Now did you call me a stupid chocobo?”

“Yeah you dumb bird,” I reply, leaning back to get a better look at his face when I tell him, “And no, you did not dream what happened this morning. You were spooning me.”

His eyes go wide and his entire body tenses.

I pinch his cheeks. “And here I thought you’d be little spoon.”

“I can’t help I move in my sleep!” He swats my hands away.

Giggling, I slip my hands into his hair and pull his face closer. “I liked it, almost as much as I like you.”

Another one of those breath-taking smiles appears. “I like you too…a lot.”

I’m definitely going to have to thank Zack for the best birthday ever.

#cloud x reader #innocent baby cloud #cloud strife x reader #ffvii cloud #cloud strife #fem!reader

46 notes · View notes

cliverosfieldslefttiddy · 4 years

Text

Boys’ Night In

It’s definitely not my best work but if i keep fiddling with this it will never see the light of day so

My second piece of Ghost fanfiction! The prompt for this came from discord. No NSF/W but still using a cut because it got a little longer than I thought it would.

Summary: Rain had a nightmare, and Aether saves the day.

BOOM!

Aether’s eyes shot open as thunder rumbled outside. Bleary, he looked around, realizing he was still in the ghouls’ dorm common area. Oh, I fell asleep watching TV again...what time is it? He looked over at the tall clock by the fireplace. About 1:00 A.M.

He knew he probably shouldn’t spend the night on the couch--waking up not being able to look to the left was not fun--so Aether stood up from the couch and turned off whatever 90s sitcom rerun was playing on the TV. He gave his arms a good stretch to the ceiling before making his way down the hall to his bedroom.

When Aether was this sleepy, all he could usually think about was getting to his bed and burritoing himself in his thick red quilt. Fatigue almost always made him oblivious to pretty much anything else. But something managed to sneak through the sleepy fog and catch Aether’s eye.

Rain’s light was still on.

Concern rose in the back of Aether’s mind. Any other ghoul having their light on this late would be par for the course, but Rain? Rain often liked to go to bed early; in fact, just some hours ago he had said something about having a bit of a headache and that he would be turning in early. So why did light still shine out below the door? Aether paused for a moment, then turned to knock softly. “Rain?”

“Yeah?”

Aether rested his hand on the doorknob. “Can I come in?”

There came an even quieter “I guess.” in reply. Aether slowly opened the door to find Rain sitting smack-dab in the center of his completely-made bed, knees tucked up under his chin. He looked so small, like he could drown in the ocean of his bed.

Aether stepped in and sat on the edge of the bed. “What’s wrong, buddy?”

Rain didn’t move his gaze. He continued to stare straight ahead, only managing to mutter the words, “Had a bad dream.” Aether could see the tenseness in the younger ghoul’s jaw.

Aether reached out and put a hand on Rain’s shoulder. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Rain turned so suddenly towards him, Aether jumped. There was such a look of panic and fear in the water ghoul’s eyes that Aether wanted to weep for him. Rain shook his head almost imperceptibly. No, I don’t.

The two sat in silence for a moment, listening to the weather outside pummel the windows. Suddenly, Aether had an idea.

“Hey, Rain, let’s go.” The older ghoul stood up and held out a hand. Rain hesitated for only a moment before taking Aether’s hand and climbing down from his bed. Aether then dropped his hand and led Rain to his room.

Aether’s bedroom wasn’t the cleanest, but there was a sort of coziness to the clutter. A large bed sat against the far wall, dominated by quilts and overstuffed pillows. Aether’s desk was on the opposite wall, the surface littered with a couple notebooks and a few loose pieces of lined paper. In a seemingly hidden corner lived a simple futon, a small tv on a stand, an extra-compact minifridge, and a basket of various snacks. A single floor lamp bathed anything in a reddish-gold light.

“Have a seat.” Aether offered, gesturing to the futon. “What kind of soda do you like again?” He crouched down and opened the fridge, grabbing two chocolate-peanut-butter granola bars from the basket on the way down.

Behind him, Rain made a face. “None, Aeth, they all just taste angry to me. But if you have orange juice I’ll take that!”

Aether tossed a green-lidded bottle and a granola bar to Rain, and then went about turning on the tv and a connected video game system. “I feel you, bro. Just, whatever you do, don’t tell the Cardinal I nicked some tour snacks.” He gave the water ghoul a mock-stern glare while chuckling.

“Ooh, am I detecting a hint of rebellion in Mr. Rule-Follower?” Rain teased, tearing open the granola bar wrapper and taking a bite. Aether just gave him the middle finger, not looking up from the gaming console. After a few more seconds, the television screen sprung from a dim black glow to the chipper main menu screen of a racing game. Aether grabbed two of the remote controllers and handed one of them to Rain as he sat down.

“Let’s see who’s trash-talking who after I kick your ass at Mario-Kart!” Aether nudged Rain, both of them laughing as they picked their characters, karts, racetracks. So engrossed was Rain that he didn’t notice Aether cast a sideways glance at him, smiling quietly to himself.

Countless granola bars and even more Mario Kart races later, it was 3:46 AM. Rain had all but dozed off on Aether’s shoulder during the final lap of the last race. Now it was definitely time for bed, Aether eased himself up off the couch, supporting Rain’s head in his hand as he stood. He then gently eased Rain’s upper half onto the futon, followed by his feet. Lastly, he grabbed his absolute squishiest pillow and absolute fluffiest quilt and tucked Rain into a sort of cocoon on the couch. Still the water ghoul snored softly.

Satisfied with his work, Aether flipped the switch on the floor lamp. The rain outside had let up, and Aether could see enough by the moonlight falling in to make it to his bed without tripping on anything. He flopped onto the mattress and wrapped a pillow in a hug. He could already feel sleep pulling at his consciousness…

He didn't know how long he’d been asleep (or if he had been at all), but Aether slowly roused from sleep to the slightly jarring chorus of creaking metal couch frames. Rain was tossing and turning on the futon, though not from nightmares, it seemed. In fact, Aether wasn’t even sure he was asleep.

“Rain?”

The creaking stopped. “Huh?”

“You good over there?”

There was one last rustle of blankets punctuated by squeaking couch frame. One more pause before Rain whispered, “I can’t get comfortable, no matter what way I position myself there’s always a piece of metal digging into my back.”

Aether sighed. “Yeah, that couch really is better suited for gaming than sleeping.” He gave his head a shake, further mussing up his already unkempt hair. “You know what, grab your blanket and pillow and come bunk up here with me. Much more comfy.”

Even though it was almost black as ink in the room, Aether could swear he saw Rain’s eyes light up at the thought of escaping the couch. The younger ghoul stood up from the couch (still wrapped in the blanket) and hobbled over to the bed. He proceeded to burrow his way under the other quilts on the bed, his head coming to rest on Aether’s chest.

The sun may have been closer to coming up than they were used to. Their stomachs may have ached from too many snacks. They would likely wake up too exhausted to even function tomorrow.

But the sleep-slurred “Thanks, Aether” that Rain uttered before finally drifting off made it all worth it to him.

#noelle posts #noelle wrote a thing #aether ghoul #rain ghoul #the band ghost #fanfiction #ghost bc #era 4 #fluff #platonic fluff #platonic fluff might be my favorite thing to write #i love aether #such a good boy #they're all good ghouls and ghoulettes #im rambling #im sleepy #goodnight

50 notes · View notes

one-spidey-boii · 4 years

Text

BUMMER SUMMER || peter parker; ch ten

read ch nine here

masterlist

an; i’ve tried to post this chapter three different times and have had to make a new post all three times, im losing my mind. anyways thank you for your support, have a good day and enjoy :)))

*italics at beginning indicate itty bitty flashback*

warnings; mentions of battle wounds (i.e. blood/scars/etc), future smut, mature language, fluff, angst, both peter and oc are 18+!!

word count; 3.1k+

peter's pov

long story short- i couldn't throw the knife. or any knife for that matter. i either let go too soon or too late, my footing was wrong, my hips were angled incorrectly, blah blah blah. i knew edie was trying to make me feel better by blaming all those other factors, but it was just me. i'm not made for the knife throwing trade and that's okay.

what wasn't okay was that when i threw my first knife—the obsidian one—i missed horribly and ended up shattering the tip.

edie and i both run for the fallen object and she got to it first, cradling the shards in her hands. i look at her with innocent eyes and a coy smile, "im sorry?" i try to play if off, despite how horrible i felt in the pit of my stomach.

she wipes away her irritated grimace, "nobody's perfect?" she says, more of a question, still a little irked at the broken blade.

i spent the rest of the early morning throwing only steel, but still- i missed every time.

now late afternoon, edie and i are laying on the couch with our heads in the middle and our feet dangling over each armrest. we've been taking turns showing each other videos we saved on instagram, laughing immaturely at the childish jokes. her wavy hair falls into my eyes every time she adjusts her head on the cushion, which is a lot, but i don't mind. i enjoy the feeling of her next to me.

"here, here. look at this one!" she chirps as she pulled up a photo of a chubby cat trying to jump up onto the bed. he misses every time. "it kind of reminds of someone i know..." she trails off, poking fun at my failed attempts earlier in the day. i reach my hand over and flick her nose and my eyes light up at the way she scrunches it up.

"oh god, don't do that peter!" she squeaks out before she sits up and grabs desperately for a tissue to sneeze into. i roll my head back, stretching my neck all the way and look at her upside down, laughing at her reaction to the nose boop i gave her. she turns around after wiping her nose and tosses the used tissue at me. it's my turn to squeak as i shuffle away from the balled up paper.

"yuck! girl cooties!" i tease at her and kick the tissue off the couch with my foot. edie rolls her eyes at me as she bends down to grab it and throw it away in the nearby waste bin. when she straightens back up, a wild spark twinkles in her eyes. i perk a brow up at her.

"whaaaat do you think you're doing?" i ask, eyeing her change in behavior. without a word she pounces on top of me, pinning me down to the couch. i squirm beneath her strong hold, but she has my hands trapped against my legs with her thighs that rest on either side of my hips. i'm shocked at how quickly she was able to pin me down, her movements so sharp and unpredictable.

"cooties, huh?" she whispers and lowers her face to level with mine. i hum a 'mhm' and swallow thickly at her close proximity. we haven't been in this position since we shared our first kiss, both of us choosing to just tease each other since then to see who would break first.

her eyelids drop low and she looks at me through her thick lashes. they're so dark against her cool skin. i find myself wanting to run my fingers around the edges of them, to feel them flutter at my touch. but no, i'm not the one in charge here.

edie brings her hand up to my lips, tracing over them with two delicate fingers. she tugs on my bottom lip gently, her eyes never leaving mine. we stay there for a moment, our breaths mingling and matching as we fall into pace with each other. i tense up as her fingers slide from my lips to my check, and down to my jaw to gently caress it. she leans in impossibly closer.

"do you wanna kiss?" she whispers, her plump lips barely grazing mine. almost drawn by a magnetic force, my hips lift to get some kind of relief from the contact, or lack thereof. she tightens her steel grip on my limbs and connects our hips roughly, challenging my actions with a face that lets me know she isn't afraid to play along with my games.

i respond lamely, with a stuttering, "o-okay." edie smiles, i shiver.

"close your eyes." she demands.

of course if i do it without question, pushing away the thoughts of just how smitten i am with her.

i can feel her lips graze mine, so so soft it makes me sick. i move to close the gap, but every time i try she pulls away, avoiding the embrace with a cheeky chuckle. i sigh, but kept my eyes closed, wanting to prove that i'll do what she asks for her lips on mine. her lips do come, but they leave small pecks everywhere but on my own. my throat lets out a sound that makes my cheeks flush and her teasing gets worse.

the thumping of my heart in my ears clouds my senses until finally, my lips are met with something sweet. it's sickening and soft and...chocolatey?

edie rises up and out of my lap in a second, her body erupting into fits of laughter as she watches me open my eyes and chew the chocolate kiss with a shocked and bemused smile. she falls onto the couch next me, keeping her distance as i swallow in disbelief.

"hmm, very clever." i mumble. i will admit the chocolate is a nice touch, but i want what i was promised.

both of my hands grip each of her wrists, too fast for her to slip out of reach. i join both of her hands in one of my own as i pull her to me and push her back into the couch cushions. she sinks into them with a small 'o' across her lips and her eyes are wide and curious. i lean down and capture her lips in mine, the kiss is firm, but filled with warm emotions that float between us.

i keep her wrists together and stretch them above her head. edie's back arches into my chest and i can't help but smirk into the kiss. my mind races through all the moments i wished i could have pulled her to me and shut her up with my lips. now that we're here in this miracle of a moment, my brain can't wrap around how it came to be.

i bite her bottom lip and tug ever so slightly, but it's enough to pull a soft moan out of her. edie begins to tug against the restraints of my hand. i simply tighten my grip and move to kiss more of her body, trailing down her neck and collar bones. she shudders.

"peter, please. i wanna touch you." she breathily whispers in my ear, her lips barely grazing the shell.

i pull away at her words and look at her face. it's red and flustered, her eyes are half-lidded and filled with lust. she showcases a small, lazy smile across her swollen lips. i raise my other hand that had been resting on her hip up to her lips. they're soft and wet and soon my pointer and middle finger slip in between them.

she takes them gracefully, her tongue swirling around my fingers as she sucks on them with a grin. i scoff in disbelief at the girl beneath me. just days ago i was afraid to touch her, to see her, and now she's here doing things with me—to me—that i could only ever indulge in my head. and now all i can think is mine. she is mine.

as i slide my finger out from her mouth, i rest my hand on her cheek and pull in close once more, "you're amazing." i whisper against her lips. she just smiles.

with my moment of weakness, she turns the tables on me in the blink of an eye. edie releases her hands from my grip and rolls me off of her and onto the floor. i groan at the sudden impact and hold my hands over my stomach in shock. once again she rests on top of me.

"how is it that we always end up here?" i laugh, gesturing to our current position. she shrugs.

"don't you like me here?" she teases.

BZZZT BZZZT BZZZT BZZZT

both of our hearts jump out of our chests at the sudden interruption, but instead of scrambling away, edie sits herself down completely in my lap and reaches for her phone that's face up on the arm of the couch. she swipes a button and holds it up to her ear.

"mr. stark? hello, sir." she chirps, seeming to have regained her composure without a hitch. i, however, am beginning to squirm underneath her. i mean, come on, she's sitting on my crotch.

i move to sit up, but edie places a firm hand on my chest and slams me back down on the floor with a small thud.

"hmm? oh yeah, peter's around." my eyes bug out of my skull and i shake my head furiously. there's no way i'm talking to mr. stark while she's on top of me. that man knows practically everything, and if he doesn't know something now, he'll find out soon enough. i squirm underneath her and try to shimmy away, but she stays put and won't let me move.

"sure, you can talk to him. i just gotta go find him." she's talking as if nothing bad could happen right now, while as my mind was flying through all the ways mr. stark could kill me and no one would ever know. suddenly, the hand on my chest slips down to the waistline of my sweatpants. i give edie a serious glare, pleading her not to go any farther. i'm already painfully hard from our activities a few minutes ago, and surely this teasing isn't helping my case.

"peter? where are you?" edie holds the phone away from her face and calls out into the otherwise empty room. as she does this, her hand finally comes to rest fully on my crotch and she begins palming me through my pants, "oh, there you are." she says into the phone sweetly, while i stifle a groan.

"here he is, mr. stark." edie brings the phone to my ear and holds it there, halting my silent pleas for her to stop.

"peter? are you there? why can’t you answer your own damn phone? i gave it to you for that specific reas-" tony's voice booms through the phone and my body stiffens. edie is still touching me and i feel like i'm on fire.

"m-mr. stark, hi! yep, it's me peter." i choke into the phone. edie lets go of the phone and i adjust myself to hold it between my ear and my shoulder. i move my hands to grab her hips hard, hoping she'll pick up on my warning.

"yes. yes, i got that. anyway, peter, i'm gonna ask you something and you need to be honest with me. is edie okay? i mean, does she seem like she's getting better?" his concerned voice only distracts me for a second before edie begins lowering herself down my body so that she rests between my legs.

"o-oh god. edie!" i says her name through clenched teeth. she stares back at me with doe eyes and lifts my shirt up to expose my stomach. her hands dance down my sides and she only breaks eye contact to leave a soft kiss right above my pant line.

"yes, peter. edie. what the hell is going on with you?" tony asks, suspicion lacing through his words.

my hands are now in edie's hair, grabbing fistfuls of it as she slips her fingers underneath the waistband. my breath hitches in my throat at her actions. why the hell is she choosing now of all times to do something like this?

"edie is good. she's really good. really really good." i mumble, no longer aware of how my words were meddling together. edie slides my sweatpants down my hips and i naturally lift them up to assist her in taking the article of clothing off. god i'm so hard. it's beginning to get uncomfortable.

"okay...good. can i talk to her now?" mr. stark's tone is unnerving. i know he knows something is up.

i can feel edie's fingers hook under the band of my boxers. at that moment, everything went out the window as i let out the most awful, embarrassingly obvious moan. mr. stark clears his throat on the other end of the phone and i want to throw the device across the room.

edie pulls away from me and has the evilest smile on her lips, confirming that she had done this to get that particular reaction out of me. i look at her in defeat, feeling silly and exposed. she crawls back up my body and kisses the corner of my lips, lingering there just enough to make me want more, and she takes the phone from my ear.

"hey, mr. stark, i'm back." she speaks into the phone with ease and shoots up onto her feet, letting them take her to another room.

i stare at the ceiling, wide-eyed and almost in pain from my situation downstairs. i blindly reach for a pillow on the couch and bring it to my face so i can scream as loud as i can into nothingness.

my suit feels tighter than usual, more constricting as i crouch on a random roof top in the middle of new york city. i snuck out of the compound shortly after edie left to finish her phone call and i got to it straight away.

from what i remember of edie's story from that night, she was attacked by two people- a man and a woman. my mind reels at just how many people live in new york (8.623 million and climbing). my only hope for finding these people is to patrol, all night, for as long as possible.

i haven't slept since yesterday. i was too busy throwing knives and oogling edie to even get a lick of sleep in. not that i mind, but i know i can only stay out so long tonight before i become drunk from lack of rest. i can already feel it coming, the sensation of my brain swishing around my head and settling at the bottom.

i snap myself out of it, determined to go through as much of the city as i can. i thought i had them a few buildings back, but it turned out to be an older couple making out in the alleyway, yikes. i got outta their way real quick.

i shoot a web at the next building and hoist myself over the edge, letting my weight swing me through the air before shooting another one with my other arm. i love swinging. its something only i can do, and i take pride in that. my head clears and my senses get kicked up to eleven, allowing me to do my job the way it should be done.

i fling myself through the streets, stretching my arms high above my head to aim at anything and everything. i think back to when i was first teaching myself to swing, the constant misses and face-plants make me scrunch my face up. gosh, how embarrassing. nevertheless, i smile at how far i've come.

i come to a stop on another random building a few blocks from where i started. the air bites at my skin, making goosebumps appear underneath my suit. i rub my hands up and down my arms and take in my new surroundings. the building i landed on is shorter than those around it, i'm no more than ten stories up.

my ears start to prickle at a nearby noise and i turn my attention to the sound. down in the alleyway, a group of people stand in a circle around something on the ground. i lean forward to try and get a closer look, but i'm too far away to make anything out completely. i hop over the edge of the building and begin to crawl down the side of it until i can see clearly.

i gasp when i see what they're standing around. a small grey kitten mewls from the center of the circle. it's body is unbelievably tiny and frail and it's just staring at them. the people begin to talk to each other, starting to argue and raise their voices. i pick up a few words like 'kick' and 'burn' and 'eat' and my stomach drops.

without a second thought, i'm letting go of the wall and dropping down in the middle of the circle, careful not to step on the small creature between my feet. i look around at the people and notice how disheveled they are. none of their clothes match and they all have ratty hair and bad breath. i puff out my chest.

"i have to ask you lot to leave the area immediately," i pause and take in their bored expressions, "now...scram!" i finish and cringe to myself when they don't move. one man steps forward and offers a grimy smile, he doesn't have very many teeth left.

"who gave you the right?" the man sputters out and points a crooked finger in my face.

"look guys i don't know what you were planning to do here, but it's over now." i say and lean down to gently pick up the kitten. it meows and nuzzles it's head into the crook of my arm. the group of people begin to back away and scurry off whilst leaving some choice words behind for me. i ignore them and use my free arm to shoot a web and land back on top of the building. i lower my chin to get a good look at the tiny kitten.

"hey there, little one. what am i gonna do with you now?" i whisper and chuckle when she stretches her limbs and yawns. she peers back up at me with big eyes that look like two perfectly polished gold coins, "i guess there's really only one option," i coo at her and scratch her softly under her chin, "i hope edie likes cats."

|| taglist; @my-patronus-is-mabel-pines @whycantileaveyou @lovewolfspirit @kitykatnumber @franksholland @goddamnit5sos @thehugslut @fandom-phaser

32 notes · View notes

heathsbitch · 4 years

Text

Treat You Better ➳ PEAKY BLINDERS

i. RUNAWAY

"Why the fuck did you do that? What were ya fucking thinking?" Alfie Solomons screamed at his daughter, Ivy. He continued to shout words of abuse at the girl and she stood there silently, heart pounding against her ribcage. Alfie had sold Ivy off to a stranger for the night because she needed to 'be taught a lesson', in his words.

But she didn't like that and she certainly didn't agree with it.

Ivy had panicked when she arrived at the man's doorstep and ended up running away without a second thought as to what her father would do when he found out." You are a fucking disappointment to this family, a huge fucking mistake." Her father finished off his soliloquy with a sentence that stabbed straight through the girl's heart. Ivy and Alfie had always clashed, ever since her mother left. But she still loved the man, and the feelings were reciprocated; until that last word came tumbling from his mouth. "I hate you!" Ivy finally replied. Alfie's hand came crashing down onto his daughter's cheek. She fell to the floor, her hand clutching the point of collision. Her cheek burned with pain and tears threatened to spill from her icy eyes. Her knees shook as she tried to drag herself back into a standing position. Alfie's chest heaved as he watched his daughter on the floor, a war of emotions plaguing his head, 'Was that necessary?'

As soon as she gained her balance back, Ivy darted off to her room. Fading streaks of light from the streetlamps outside illuminated the small room. Wallpaper had begun to peel in the corners and the desk that sat in the corner was chipped with knife marks. With haste, the girl packed essential things in her bag and slipped two flip knives into either one of her boots. A gun rested in the holster strapped to her thigh for emergencies. Ivy had always been a cautious girl. Being the daughter of the infamous Alfie Solomons was a tough profession. Usually, she handled it well. But, this was the final straw. Ivy sprinted for the door, trying as hard as she could to avoid more confrontation with her father. As she hit the threshold to their home, shouts were heard from down the hallway, "Ivy, stop. Just think about what you're doing, yeah?"

She didn't listen.

The door slammed behind her and the bitter London streets hit the girl like a frozen wall of ice. Goosebumps rose on her skin, a shiver sliding through her body. She was dressed in a simple shirt and long skirt with some flat boots. "Should've brought a jacket." She whimpered to herself. She walked and walked. Ivy's boots slapped the grey pavement underneath. London was a dangerous city in the day, but she had no idea what it was like at night. Music from various clubs boomed through the streets. They stretched high into the night sky, casting eerie shadows upon her form and the foggy London streets. Callous laughter came from behind her. Ivy spun around on her heels to search for the origin of the sound. Two figures emerged from a side alley, both armed with what looked like small knives. "Shit." She whispered although no one could hear her. They advanced on the girl. "What's a pretty little thing like you doing out here at this time?" The taller man asked, a cockney accent sending even more shivers down Ivy's spine. The other one grabbed her arms from behind her ."No!" She yelled in protest. "Get off of me!" The girl wriggled, trying to get out of his grasp. The taller man swung his knife at her. It connected with Ivy's thigh, blood seeped out of the small cut. They started to drag her into a dark alley. Fists and legs were flying everywhere. Screams erupted from the teen's throat.

But it was of no use. She had to use a slightly more violent option.

Strong arms pinned her to the dirty floor of the alley way. It scratched her once-smooth skin, more crimson liquid began to stain her arms. She felt her skirt being lifted up. Her actions became more sporadic, until she could reach her boot. A cold object touched Ivy's fingertips. She tugged at it and thrusted it into one of the men. It was her knife. Blood came spurting out of the man, a pool formed at the girl's feet, partly tainting her leather boots. She hitched her skirt up just high enough so she could reach the small revolver that rested there. Bang! Bang! The bodies slapped the floor.

Silence. Her breaths came out, short and irregular. One thought raced through her head, 'What have I done?'

The girl's body shook and quivered, this time it wasn't the cold air. She heard shouts coming from the opening of the alley way. Ivy's legs gave way underneath her and her eyes started to droop. Arms grabbed the teen again, but they were to stop her from falling. "Fuck me." A strong Birmingham accent came from above. The world was spinning. Colours were merging with each other. "What the fuck happened here?" Another man said from above her, in a similar accent to the other one. The man that cradled the girl stayed still. He didn't speak. "Tommy. Tommy!" The first man shouted. Then he spoke. "We have to get her out of here." A simple instruction. "Did she just shoot them?" The second man spoke. "Help me." The supposed 'Tommy' said. No movement was heard so the man shouted again, "John, help me with her!" Her eyes gradually closed but she could feel her body being lifted up. Darkness consumed Ivy. Her consciousness drifted further and further away from her. She desperately tried to stay awake, but the void took over. The last thing she saw was a pair of piercing blue eyes.

"Remind me to never get on your bad side." His voice echoed throughout the empty hall. "Stop lying to me Ezekiel, I'm not that good." I complained as I gave the small revolver that once rested in my hand back to Ezekiel. The man chuckled, his voice reverberating and his smile stretched from ear to ear. He was a kind man and he never told any lies; I knew that. "I'm being serious, petal. You're incredibly talented, and lethal." With the last words falling from his thick lips, he grabbed my small frame and started to spin me around in his arms. Small squeals came from me as well as laughter from the pair of us. "Stop, I'm getting dizzy!" I warned and so the man complied, gently placing me back on my feet. I stumbled but Ezekiel kept a hold on me to support me. "Thank you, Zeke." I told him in a serious tone, His eyebrow twitched, "Why do you sound so serious? I only put you down." He chuckled. "For everything. You've always been so kind to me and you taught me how to fight. Not to mention your wife teaching me all she knew about looking after people. I'll never forget anything about you." I beamed. Tears brewed in the dark eyes of Ezekiel, his arms wrapping around me once more to pull me into a hug.

She woke up in an unfamiliar bed. It was only a dream, a memory, a lost memento.

The bed was comfortable, but foreign. Light flooded the basic room. Curtains hung above the chipped window sill. A shirt hung from the chair that sat at the old wooden desk. A cap hung on the back of the door. Something shiny was slightly poking out from it. Strange, 'Where am I?' Panic seeped through the small girl. 'Where am I? Am I with the men that tried to rape me? Where am I?' Then she remembered. She had killed those men and three different ones found her. They were from Birmingham, she thought, one of them was called Tommy, the leader presumably. Ivy tried to sit up but pain coursed through her small frame. Her eyes drifted to her arms. Cuts and bruises lay scattered over them. But there was no blood, someone had cleaned them. The door opened and a man with dark hair stepped in. "Good. You're awake." He said. She tried to sit up again, she wanted to defend herself. She didn't know if the man was dangerous or not. "It's alright, you can relax. If I wanted to hurt you, I would've done it by now." He sat on the bed next to Ivy and grunted in the process. She could see his face clearer now. She thought that it was the man that caught her, Tommy. He had the same piercing blue eyes. His jaw was sharp and his lips were thick and pursed but chapped. "Are you alright?" The girl nodded, scared to speak. The man put his large hand on her shoulder to try and comfort her, she flinched. "I'm not going to hurt you. We want to help you," We? Who else was here? "Now, can you tell me what happened in that street? The night we found you."

The pictures came flooding back into her mind. The bodies. The blood. The barbarity. Nausea pooled in her stomach. "It's alright if you can't tell me now. We can speak later." 'Tommy' stood up and walked over to the door. "I have some business to attend to now. Get some rest." And with that, he left. Ivy's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Nothing made sense.

She lied in that bed for roughly ten minutes before she got bored. So, she decided to go exploring. The man said he had business to do so he was out, that meant that she was probably home alone. Groaning in pain, Ivy managed to drag herself from the bed and to the mirror on the other side of the bleak room. "Shit," She breathed out with a laugh; a large purple bruise covered half of her right cheek. A deep gash ran along the corner of her eyebrow and her bottom lip was split. She ran her injured hands over the wounds on her face then smirked. 'At least I fought back.' She thought. The girl wore the same clothes from the day before, at least, she thought it was the day before. Her shirt was ripped at the sleeves, though, and tainted with blood. Her skirt was still fully in-tact. She no longer wore her boots which meant that she didn't have her knives to hand. She quickly lifted up her skirt to check if her holster and gun was still there. The holster was but the gun wasn't. Her eyes briefly scanned the room in search for the weapons, just in case she needed to defend herself from the strangers. They were nowhere to be found along with her bag. He must've taken them. Smart.

Curiosity got the better of the teen. She stumbled out of the room and started to explore the stranger's house. She was stood in a dark corridor with a steep staircase stretched out in front of her. She knew it was rude to go snooping around a stranger's house, but she was a very curious person. On the walls were pictures, some holding quotes from the Bible and some holding family photos. There was this one picture at the bottom of the stairs, though. Three men stood side by side, all in uniform. One of them the girl recognised to be the man that came into the room, Tommy. The other two must've been the others in the alley. She smiled at the picture. The men that were in that photo were probably completely different now. No one really came back from the war, but at least they fought for their country. Ivy moved into the kitchen. Green decor lit up the room. The smell of smoke and whiskey filled her nose.

Her ears pricked at the voices that she heard. She was alone in the room as she had been through the rest of the house. She turned around to look at the wall where the voices were coming from. A huge, velvet curtain hung there. The girl laughed at how obvious it was. Pulling it back, Ivy saw a double door hidden behind it. "Interesting." She mumbled to herself.

Taking in a deep breath, she opened the doors. Her breath hitched in her throat when she saw a very large number of men stood in the secret room. They stopped talking and all stared at the small girl. "Tommy!" A man with a wonky hat yelled "She's awake." She looked around the room. 'Is this a betting shop?' Ivy thought. A green board with multiple names and numbers scribbled on it sat at the opposite end of the room. Rooms with bars for walls were dotted around as well. There seemed to be an orange hew to the room which danced with the shadows of the workers.

A boy, similar to Ivy's age, walked in from around the corner. He had pursed lips, auburn hair and was wearing a similar cap to the one she had seen in the bedroom. His eyes immediately met hers and his lips twitched. Her heart pounded against her chest, but the world went silent. Someone was shaking her shoulders but she couldn't take her eyes off of the boy.

"Oi, are you alright?" The man with the wonky hat was the one shaking the girl. Up close, he was quite handsome. Bright eyes, although not as bright as Tommy's, and thick lips. He was one of the soldiers from the photo, the youngest of the three by the looks of it. "Tommy wants you in his office." She didn't move because she didn't know where Tommy's office was. The man in front of her realised this and shouted to the boy that had previously caught her eye. "Finn, take her to Tommy's office. He wants to speak to 'er."

The boy, Finn, came closer to Ivy and tripped in the process. His face flushed a bright shade of red. She tried to contain her giggles, but still didn't move. "Alright Finn boy, keep your cock in your pants." Finn's face turned an even darker shade of crimson at the comment and lightly took her arm in his hand. "Come on." He said timidly. He led the girl to a very well decorated room. A tall woman with short, dark hair sat at a desk, "She can go straight in." She told Finn. He very quickly let go of her and dashed back to the other room. Ivy hesitated before opening the door.

The room was fairly large. Golden decorations scattered the rim of it. A small table lay in the centre, three chairs sat neatly underneath it. This room was nicer than the entirety of the house. If he could afford a room like this, why couldn't he get a better house? With caution, the teenager walked up the steps that led to his desk. "I see you're up and about. Sit down," She looked at the plush chair in front of her before sitting down. She winced in pain; her injuries crippled her small body. His gaze bore through the girl. Tommy scared her in a way. He had a very dominant air about him. He reminded Ivy of her own father, in a strange way.

"What's your name?" Tommy asked, leaning onto his desk. "Ivy, sir. Ivy Solomons." His eyebrow twitched at her last name. Clearly he recognised it. "Any relation to Alfie Solomons?" His brow furrowed as he intently listened for an answer. "Yes, he's my father." Panic began to seep through the girl, how did he know her father? Who was this man? "Why aren't you with him?" Tommy lent back in his chair but his ears were still pricked, keen to hear what the Solomons girl had to say. "I-I ran away." The girl stuttered as her heart slammed against her chest. Tommy pulled a small, silver tin from his pocket as he processed her words. "Why?" A cigarette was pulled from the case, a lighter then held up to its end. The man's eyes met the girl again as he slipped it into his mouth. Ivy tried to think of something to say, 'He can't know the truth, I can't go back to Alfie.'

"Why did you run away, Ivy?"

"H-he used to beat me and we got into another argument. I-I just couldn't take it anymore." Tears began to slip from her eyes, tiny sobs slipping from her lips. She cast her eyes to the floor, her hands coming to wipe the tears from her eyes. Tommy's brows furrowed again before he spoke, "Ivy, look at me," She complied, their eyes meeting once more. "It's alright, Alfie can't hurt you here."

"You can't protect me, no one can." More sobs racked the girl's body. "We can. You're in Birmingham. We're the Peaky Blinders. And I'm Thomas Shelby. No one can touch you here."

ii. A NEW FRIEND

MASTERLIST

A/N: This is a Finn Shelby x OC x Michael Gray love triangle, NOT a Finn x Michael fanfic. There will be smut in later chapters, it will be clearly marked so if you’re not comfortable with that then you can skip over it. Thank you and I hope you enjoy!

#finn shelby #harry kirton #michael gray #finn cole #alfie solomons #tommy shelby #smut #fluff #peaky blinders #treat you better

34 notes · View notes

totally-incorrect-theatre-quotes · 5 years

Text

The Dance (fanfic)

Hey! As promised here’s that fanfic I said I would write. It’s a doozy, it’s long, it’s angsty. Grab your tissues. :)

TW: homophobia

Lydia wasn’t expecting much during the fall of her sophomore year. She’d adjusted pretty well to her new school and new life here in Connecticut. She even found a friend group she liked to hang out with during lunches and study halls. She wasn’t popular by any stretch of the imagination but she was content where she was. Flyers for the Home Coming dance were being passed around and posted on the walls of her normally dreary High School. All the underclassmen were chattering away about it while the juniors and seniors laughed about how lame those dances are. Lydia didn’t like parties all that much, the idea of being stuck in a cramped room filled with all her classmates while deafening music was playing wasn’t exactly her idea of fun but it suddenly sounded like the most fun thing in the world when Claire Jones asked her to go to the dance.

Lydia had had a massive crush on Claire since freshman year, and while they weren’t exactly friends she thought that the two of them had a lot in common despite their very different personalities. Claire was like sunshine, with her blonde hair always done up nice with a scrunchie on her wrist matching her outfit for the day. She on the cheerleading team and in the chorus at the school, but she wasn’t one of those bitchy popular people. She was really down to Earth and even complimented Lydia’s doodles on her history notes. Claire asked her to the dance between classes in the hallways. Lydia had been so shocked that she didn’t even know how to respond but with an excited nod. She left school that day on cloud nine, and skipped into the house to tell everyone the good news. She told Delia and Barbara first, she loved the guys but they didn’t understand this kind of stuff. Her dad wasn’t good with feelings, Adam would probably embarrass her, and Beetlejuice...well he was too everything.

Without any hesitation, Delia whisked Lydia away to go looking for the perfect dress that would wow Claire at the dance. After an hour or two of trying on dresses, they hadn’t found anything yet that they liked. Delia told her to sit down and that she would be right back. When she returned she had a beautiful navy blue dress with lace sleeves draped in her arms. The bottom till of the dress shimmer with specks of glitter that made it look like she had a galaxy on her skirt. When she tried it on she twirled around in it and felt so beautiful. She didn’t mention it but she was the tears welling up in Delia’s eyes. The two bought the dress, put it in the back of their car, and sat in the parking lot for a little while before heading to their next stop.

“Do you want to know why I picked out that dress?” Delia asked, Lydia, nodded in response and Delia pulled up a blurry photograph on her phone, “I was looking through some of the old books that you and your dad had laying around and I found this old picture of your mom when she was going to her senior prom. I know the dresses don’t look exactly the same, and I wish she was the one taking you shopping for your first school dance, but I thought you might like to wear something you can remember her with.”

Lydia gazed at the photograph of her mother. She was so pretty, a few years older than she was at the time, and she stood at the top of her staircase wearing a floor-length, lace, navy-blue dress. Her hair was done up in brunette braids and a blue flower sticking out behind her ear. Even if it hadn’t been for the fancy dress and hair she still would have looked beautiful. Her smile, even in picture form, warmed up the room. Lydia was crying now, a stray tear falling on Delia’s phone screen. Without saying a word Delia reached over the console and pulled her into a tight hug, both of them letting the tears roll down their cheeks.

“I know you know I wish my mom were here, but I am really glad that you took me today.”

Delia tilted her head and smiled, “Any time kiddo. I’m always here for you.”

“Thank you, and we really did find a pretty dress. Anything was better than that yellow monstrosity you tried to make me wear last year. I still haven’t forgiven you for that one.”

“Dutifully noted.”

The days leading up to the dance Lydia could hardly contain her excitement. BJ was extremely confused about what had gotten into that kid, she’d been married before it wasn’t like this was her first time in a relationship. Adam punched him pretty hard for making that remark and told him to just leave Lydia alone about it. Charles tried his best to figure out what his daughter needed but really Delia and Barbara had it all covered. Charles really just needed to drive her there and pick her up after the dance was over.

The night of Delia offered to do Lydia’s hair but she politely declined. While she didn’t exactly hate her fashion sense, Delia’s hairstyles were another question and she would much prefer Barbara’s minimalist style than the fancy updo that Delia had suggested. She slipped into her dress, letting herself twirl around in it like a Disney princess one more time, before heading downstairs. She rolled her eyes at the scene her family was making, Barbara pretending to faint in Delia’s arms and Adam putting his heart to his chest. When she locked eyes with her father she was he was fighting back tears as he came over, grabbed her hand delicately and lead her down the rest of the stairs.

“I know you said you didn’t need anything from me but I thought you might like to have this.” He pulled out a little black box from his pocket and handed it to her. She popped it open and saw a stunning silver necklace with a diamond connected to the loop, she looked up at her father and he explained, “I had this made after...after your mother died. It’s the diamond from her engagement ring. Another way you can carry her around with you...always.”

Lydia launched into the tightest hug she thinks she ever gave her father and kissed her on the cheek, “I love it dad. I love you.”

“Aw come on now Lydia. You know I don’t do well with the whole emotions thing...don’t go making me cry now. Besides we’ve got a dance to get you to!”

She said a quick goodbye to everyone and promised to behave, be safe, and text them if anything happened and she wanted to go home early. She laughed at the last one, she didn’t think she’d need that option. She was ready to have the best night of her life with the girl she had been daydreaming about for almost a year now. She took in a deep breath before pushing the doors of the school gym open. Claire texted her and said she would be in a pink dress and sitting at a table towards the center of the gym. When Lydia got there she was smiling so much it hurt her face, but she didn’t care. She walked over to where Claire was standing with what she assumed was a group of her friends, and tapped her on the shoulder, “Hi Claire, You look beautiful!”

“Oh my god, I can’t believe she actually came.” she heard someone whisper behind their hands. Lydia tried her best to ignore it, feeling the smile on her face falter as Claire looked at her expressionless

“I uh, I brought you a corsage. You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to..my stepmom thought it would be nice to get one for you though.”

More snickers from the now growing crowd closing in on Lydia. She wrung her hands nervously wanting Claire to say something, anything. Lydia had anxiety she reminded herself. The people probably weren’t really laughing at her or circling her, she was just nervous and making more issues for herself. That had to be what was happening because Lydia was going to have a good time that night. She had been so excited, dreaming of this day for months and it was actually happening now. She was at the dance with the girl she compared to sunshine in her dairy, whose eyes were golden like the sun but now when Lydia looked into them they seemed cold, calculated. Lydia clutched the fabric of her dress trying one more time to get some kind of affirmation from Claire that they were okay, “Do you..do you maybe want to go dance? Or we could get drinks. It really doesn’t matter to me.”

“Oh my god Claire does she actually think she’s here with you tonight?” a boy from her grade laughed out loud, “That’s hilarious.”

Lydia felt a knot in her stomach, “Claire? What’s going on. I thought you invited me here. You asked me to go with you...in the hallway after class.”

Suddenly Claire started laughing too, “You honestly thought I’d ask someone like you to go to the dance with me? Sweetie that was a dare. A joke!”

“A joke?” Lydia repeated, holding back a sob

“Yeah, a joke.” Claire picked up a cup from the table and walked menacingly towards Lydia. She backed up but found that she was surrounded when her back hit up against someone taller than her. She felt her heart racing in her chest as she looked desperately around for a way out. She didn’t even care about what was happening she just wanted out of it.

“Oh my god, she’s like a scared little bunny!” someone laughed

“Why are you doing this? I thought we were friends...I..you asked me-”

“Who in their right mind would want to be friends with a d*ke like you?” She threw the drink back and splashed it on Lydia’s face soaking the front of her dress. She stalked towards her and pushed her down on the ground by her shoulders. Lydia had never felt smaller than she did at that exact moment, the girl she thought she liked standing over her like a menacing God with Lydia sat pathetically on the floor trying to hold back tears.

“Alright, alright that’s enough!” a teacher’s voice boomed over the crowd, “We said no dance circles at this dance break it up!”

The crowd scattered, and Claire fled before she could get caught. The teacher stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Lydia crumpled on the floor hiccuping back a cry that was desperately trying to break out.

“Hey,” he bent down to her level, “Are you okay? What happened?”

Lydia just shook her head and bolted out from the gym. Her chest felt tight and like she couldn’t breathe. She just kept running and running until her legs wouldn’t go anymore and she slumped up against the brick exterior walls of the school. The only light coming from the street lamps and the marque advertising the homecoming dance. With tears in her eyes, she clutched desperately to her phone trying to think of what she was going to do next. She wanted to go home, lock the doors and be alone for eternity but she didn’t want to call her father. She didn’t want him to see her like this. She knew if she called Delia her dad would come with and she couldn’t deal with their heartbreak right now. Adam and Barbara would be less emotional about it, they’d still be worried about her obviously but they wouldn’t be attacking her with more emotions. They couldn’t leave the house though, they were stuck there. Out of options, scared and alone she whispered, “Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice.”

He appeared before her mostly just confused but when he saw her with tear streaks running down her face and her dress a soaking wet mess he just sat down next to her and let her cry on his shoulder. He didn’t ask what happened, he didn’t pry her for the details, he just sat there and comforted her until she was ready to talk.

“I don’t know how I could have been so stupid.” Lydia sobbed

“You’re not stupid Lydia, she’s a fucking bitch. I’m a literal demon and I’m not that heartless. I’m not going to tell you that bullshit they always say about bullies “oh they’re insecure and they’re just taking it out on other people” I literally could not care less what that fucker Cathrine-”

“Claire.”

“- has going on, she should deal with her issues herself instead of making your life a living hell.”

“I just can’t believe how powerless she made me feel. BJ, I was so happy before tonight, everything felt like it was falling into place even with mom gone, but now I just I don’t know anymore.” she started crying again, “Every time I feel like I’m finally doing okay someone goes and ruins it.”

He rubbed her shoulder lovingly as a brother would, “I’m really sorry Lyds.”

“I thought she liked me.” she sobbed, “That’s the worst part about it. I thought for once somebody my age actually liked me for who I was. She lied to me for weeks! She humiliated me in front of everyone. I don’t know how I’m going to go to school on Monday and look anyone in the eyes. I feel like I’m broken.”

“Here, come with me I want to show you something.” BJ stood up and picked Lydia up under her arms. She scowled at him because she knew he knew how much she hated him flying her his way, “I know, I know. It’s just for a little bit.”

“Where are we going?”

BJ set her down in the grass of someone’s yard and motioned for her to be quiet.

“Beetlejuice where are we?”

“Listen kiddo, Time heals all wounds.” he bent down and picked up a large rock from the yard and chucked it as hard as he could towards the house. The shattering of glass filled the night sky and Lydia held her hand to her mouth. Beetlejuice turned back around to her with a big grin, “But it won’t fix this bitch’s window. Let’s bounce.”

He picked Lydia up again and flew them both away before the Jones’ could come outside and investigate

“Was that..?”

“Claire’s house, yup.”

“And we just broke her bedroom window?”

“Absolutely shattered it.” He brought her back to the school, the very spot where they had been sitting no less than five minutes ago, and sat her back down on the concrete, “Now you’re gonna call Delia or your dad and have them come to pick you up. But you’re not gonna come right home okay? You can mope around tomorrow morning but tonight don’t be alone. Go see a movie with them, go get icecream. I don’t fucking care, but just don’t let it bring you down anymore tonight okay? Do you promise?”

Lydia nodded, her eyes still puffy and red from all the crying but there was a hint of a smile peaking out, “I promise.”

“See you around Scarecrow.”

Lydia did what Beetlejuice suggested, she anxiously clutched to her phone as it rang waiting for one of them to pick up. She noticed the confusion in their voices immediately, because even though it felt like this had been hours it had really only be about forty-five minutes. All the feelings started bubbling up again and she whimpered a “Come pick me up.” Within ten minutes they were at the doors of the school where Lydia was still sitting alone on the curb. She stood up and haphazardly walked over, opened the car door and slide in. Her father was driving and Delia was in the front seat, both were looking back at her with a mix of pity and concern.

“You’re dress…” Charles commented and she just gave a sad nod

“Did you bring me a change of clothes?”

Delia handed a bag back to her with a hoodie and pair of jeans neatly packed in. She quickly changed in the car trying not to meet their sad gaze. Without wanting to get into the details right now she swallowed the lump in her throat and said, “Let’s go get ice cream.”

They went to a little corner shop near their house. Lydia had taken Skye there a few times when she was babysitting her, even though her parents think the girl scout is already too hyper. Lydia didn’t really like ice cream all that much, but Beetlejuice was right anything was better than being alone. She went up to the counter to order a cone when she saw someone she recognized from school wearing the tacky shop uniform. She had fourth period chemitry with her, but they didn’t sit anywhere near each other so they didn’t talk much. Her name was Wendy, Lydia thought.

“You skipped out on the dance too?” Lydia asked in a joking manner

“Yeah, I figured it would be a slow night at work anyway and I could make some extra cash. Forgot most of my paycheck comes from tips though, and its been pretty dead.” she gestured to the empty store, “You three are the first customers I’ve had in like two hours.”

“God, you must be so bored.”

“Yeah, I was.” she polished a glass ice cream dish with a rag, “So what can I get for ya?”

Lydia ordered for all three of them, the total was only seven dollars but she handed Wendy a twenty and told her to keep the change. She was sure her father wouldn’t mind and even if he did she’d pay him back later on. Wendy brought their treats over the three of them spent the next hour just talking and joking. Nobody bringing up the dance the whole time, when they were finished Lydia brought their dishes up to the counter so Wendy didn’t have to walk all the way over. Wendy smiled thankfully and handed Lydia a folded up napkin. Lydia started at it dumbfoundedly and put it in her pocket wishing a bashful goodnight to the icecream clerk.

Back at home and through many tears and hugs, Lydia explained to the whole family what happened. Beetlejuice absently mindedly filing his nails when Charles got a call asking if Lydia knew anything about the Jones house being vandalized. Charles cursed them out saying Lydia was sitting outside the whole time. Lydia hid a smirk behind her hands and winked at Beetlejuice. For the rest of the night, they all crammed into the attic to watch cheesy movies that Lydia loved. By around 11pm her father and Delia were off to bed and Lydia was laying on Barbara’s lap while they played lovingly with her hair. As if a shock of realization struck her she scrambled to pull the napkin out of her hoodie pocket, flicked on the lap, and unfolded it.

Inside was a ten-digit phone number proceeded by a message written in Wendy’s dainty handwriting “You’re cute” with a little heart drawn after the phrase.

She felt her cheeks redden and Barbara squealed excitedly for her pseudo-daughter. She wasn’t ready to jump headfirst into an attempt at dating just yet, but something about Wendy seemed right. She would text her the next morning, but for now, they would just be friends. If Wendy was really thinking about her she’d be willing to wait a little bit. Suddenly though she didn’t feel the loneliness she had been dreading come Monday morning

The night Lydia fell asleep nestled in Barbara’s arms, her mother’s necklace still around her neck and while her heart was still hurting from what happened that night she didn’t feel alone anymore.

144 notes · View notes

thatsapaddlin · 4 years

Text

Kiss Me

Haruka sat at the end of the couch listening to music while reading a magazine. Tomo sat across her texting and giggling now and then. STARISH was scattered around the room in various activities. They were all going to get together tonight and hang out; they were just waiting for QUARTET NIGHT to arrive and join the fun.

Haruka started to sing to the music while twirling a strand of hair. She hadn’t noticed that the others had stopped and moved slightly closer to her, listening to her sing softly. Tomo moved her gaze from her phone to Haruka and raised her brows. They had only heard her sing on very few occasions, and when she did, her voice was melodic and peaceful.

A loud laugh was heard booming inside the room. The others looked for the source while Haruka continued to nod to the beat of the music. Shinning Saotome bounded down from the rafters and landed silently behind Haruka.

He grinned like a cat who ate a canary as he looked down at her. She had been STARISH and QUARTET NIGHT’s composer for five years now, making them all extremely successful. His head leaned closer to hers as she sat there. Tomo tossed a magazine at Haruka and nodded her head to look behind her.

She removed her earbud and raised a brow. “Was I singing too loud? I’m sorry.” She began to panic.

“NO, Ms Nanami.” Shinning chuckled.

Haruka let out a yelp of surprise and turned with wide eyes at him. “President!’ She clasped her hand to her chest, trying to settle her racing heart.

He leaned closer and grinned wider. “You are going to debut as an idol.”

“M-me?” She stuttered. “I can’t do that. I thought you said that I was only doing sound checks! I only wr-”

She was cut off when Shinning placed a finger to her lips. “As your president, I am ordering you.” He stepped back. “You will debut in a month, Ms Nanami. As you know the no love rule was recently lifted, but I want you to concentrate on your lessons on becoming an idol. I will be sending you your new schedule tomorrow.” With a puff of smoke, he disappeared.

Haruka slumped against the couch and pinched the bridge of her nose. “There is no fucking way I can become an idol, I already told him that.” She grumbled.

Tomo giggled as the STARISH gaped at Haruka. They had been on tour for the past two years and had not been home long enough to notice the changes in their composer.

“H-Haruka?” Cecil edged closer. “D-did you just...swear?”

Her head jerked back and frowned. She blew the air out of her cheeks. “Shit.” She muttered. She slapped a hand over her mouth. “I mean...I’m sorry.”

Tomo had tears streaming down her face gasping for air when QUARTET NIGHT sauntered into the room.

Reiji plopped next to Haruka and wrapped an arm around her. “What’s so funny?” He raised a brow at Tomo who waved her hand in front of her face and started laughing harder.

“Nothing.” Haruka sighed. “It’s nothing.”

“It seems like little lamb has...increased her vocabulary.” Ren grinned as he sat next to Tomo looking at Haruka.

Haruka stuck her tongue out at him and giggled. “I didn’t mean to say that...out loud.” She clarified.

“What did Haruka say?” Ai tilted his head to the side and looked at her.

“Nothing!” She jumped up from the couch and tossed her magazine. “Don’t worry about it, Ai.” She smiled at him. “Let me go check on the food.” She turned a dashed into the large kitchen area that was off from the room.

“I can’t believe she swore.” Syo chuckled. He gazed at Tomo for a moment. “How much did we miss while we were on tour?”

Tomo frowned and leaned back on the couch. “A lot.”

The others gathered around the scattered couches and leaned forward wanting to hear what Tomo had to share.

“Eight months ago.” Tomo paused for a moment, then nodded. “Yes, it was eight months ago, you had been on tour for some time by that point, Haruka was working for Shinning doing ‘sound checks’ with him with other groups from the agency, as well as the school.”

“What happened?” Tokiya growled.

“There were a bunch of...fans of yours that recognized Haru. She came home one day from recording and she had a bruise on her cheek, scratches on her neck, and a slightly black eye.”

Ran let out a low growl and Tomo raised her hand. “She told me it was nothing, and she just fell, but I could tell it was more than that. She was becoming jumpy at the slightest noise, and the bruising was more frequent. One day I decided to follow her, and what I saw.” She closed her eyes and had a faint smile on her face.

“What?” Syo hissed.

Tomo snapped her eyes open. “She snapped. It was the single most terrifying and gratifying moment of my life. She cornered the girls and all that pent-up anger, and rage was unleashed. She almost beat them to a pulp after screaming profanities at them stating that she was not a ‘groupie’ of yours.” She chuckled. “Since then she has been more...vocal.” She shrugged.

“Haruka did that?” Mataso whispered. He was having a challenging time imagining their sweet little Haruka doing anything remotely like that.

Tomo slowly nodded. “She did. When she got home, she seemed happier, although I had bandaged her hands from all those lacerations. If you look at her knuckle, she has a scar on her right hand, middle finger. Shinning, of course, found out and told her not to do it again, but other than that he didn’t say anything else. I think he was proud of her the way he was looking at her and grinning when he spoke.”

Haruka walked back in and they turned and looked at her. She paused mid-step. “What happened?” She frowned.

Ai stood and walked over to her and grasped her right hand and pulled it closer to his face. “I see.” He murmured. “You are correct Tomo, she does have a faint scar there.”

Haruka blinked and looked over at Tomo. “You told them?” She hissed. “I told you not to. They would just worry needlessly about it.”

Tomo raised her hands. “They asked why the changes in you, and I told them the truth.”

Haruka sighed and looked up at Ai. “Can I have my hand back?” She whispered.

Ai gave her a small smile and released her hand. “Did it hurt?”

She gave him a smile of her own. “Only after, when I was...in the moment, I didn’t feel anything.” She chuckled.

Ai nodded once. “Good.”

Everyone gathered around the large table and ate dinner while joking about Haruka, and her newly acquired combat skills. She had informed them that she had taken some self-defence classes while they were on tour because people out there were scary which caused them to chuckle at her.

When the dishes were done, Ren and Tokiya moved the couches with the help of Syo and Ai around the entertainment area so they all could watch a movie. They all decided, except for Camus that they would sleep there. It had been close to two years since they were all together.

Camus stretched out on one of the couches and polished his sceptre while watching the movie. He didn’t sit on the floors, which was for commoners. Haruka gave him a pointed look and then rolled her eyes as she settled her pillow and blanket on the floor.

There was a brief argument who would sit next to her, but Tomo dove into the spot next to hers, and while the others were bickering who go Haruka’s other side, Ai calmly brought his blanket and pillow and settled next to her, leaning close to her.

“Can we start the movie now?” Tomo giggled.

Ren narrowed his eyes at Ai, who calmly looked back at him without blinking. “Fine.” He growled.

Syo turned off the lights and settled on the floor next to Natsuki who shifted closer to him. “Oi, move, you are smothering me.” He grunted.

“But you’re so soft and cute.” He giggled.

“Whatever...move.” Syo shoved him away from him and huffed as he placed his arms behind his head. His eyes flicked to Haruka’s who was leaning against one of the couches, watching the movie quietly. He closed his eyes briefly before concentrating on the movie.

Ai watched Haruka as she watched the movie. Something had stirred in him when he heard that she had been harmed. He didn’t like the way it made him feel. He felt...angry. He had learned a lot of emotions thanks to his time with Haruka, and the others, but she was his greatest teacher.

She had taught him the meaning of friendships, loyalty, and love. He drank in her delicate features and something else stirred within him. He may be an android, but he was a ‘full functioning’ one. His program was in a way to grow, and learn, to be more ‘human,’ and that included love, or to be lovers with someone.

He tilted his head to the side thinking about Haruka with him like that, as a lover. He felt his temperature rise, and his breathing started to change, coming out in short pants. Haruka noticed and turned her head and looked at him. “Ai, are you feeling alright, are you getting too warm?” She asked in a concerned voice.

“I think I need a drink.” He said in a low tone.

“I’ll go get you one.” She smiled at him and shuffled forward and stood. He watched her go and sighed. After a beat, he stood as well and followed her.

Haruka was on her tiptoes in the dim kitchen when Ai entered the kitchen quietly. The only light from the stove. He stepped behind her and reached up and grabbed the glass that she was desperately reaching for. She let out a soft gasp and whirled around. “Y-you startled me, Ai.”

He set the glass on the counter and placed his hands on her hips and pressed himself closer to her. “Haruka, do you know what it feels like when you want to be with someone?”

She furrowed her brows. “Be with someone, like how do you know if you are in love with them?”

He slowly nodded. “I suppose that is correct. I want to know what it is like when you want to be lovers with someone.”

Haruka blushed lightly as she looked at him. “I suppose that is close to love, you wouldn't want to share that with just anyone, Ai.”

He furrowed his brows for a moment looking at her. He lifted her, so she was on the counter and he settled between her legs, pulling her slightly closer. Haruka was not afraid of Ai, and it didn’t bother her that he had moved her. She had been with QUARTET NIGHT for four years, and STARISH for five years, and over that time they all had become extremely close to each other. Their bonds ran extremely deep. They often hugged each other and dropped the honorifics from their names.

She had a soft spot for Ai especially. He always wanted to learn more about human emotions. In the four years, she had known him, he had mastered many of them, even love. It didn’t surprise her that he had come to her with this question, he usually sought her out for anything when dealing with emotions.

“You wouldn't want to have a lover if you didn’t love them?” He asked.

She shook her head. “I suppose not everyone thinks that way, however, I do. When you give yourself that way to someone, to let them see all of you, you need to have affection as well as trust. I think it would start with friendship, then grow to affection and then love. I think then, and only then, when you are committed to each other only, you share that part of yourself with them.”

“Have you had a lover then?”

She coughed lightly. “No. I haven’t. I barely kissed anyone, let alone any of that.” She cupped his cheek lightly. “Is there someone you met that you want to share that with, Ai?” She gave him a gentle smile.

He furrowed his brows and thought for a moment. “I think I have. When I am with her, I begin to feel warm and have a hard time controlling my breathing, even though I do not need to breathe. When I think about her, my stomach flutters strangely. I also have a tough time controlling my anatomy when I think or see her sometimes.”

She gave a small giggle. “It sounds like perhaps you do love this girl.”

“Is that a normal occurrence for your anatomy to harden when you think about them?”

She shook her head. “I have no idea about that, I don’t have the same anatomy as you, but I suppose something similar happens.” She met his gaze and gave him a half-smile.

“What happens to you when you are in love?”

Haruka chewed her bottom lip debating how ‘graphic’ to get with Ai. His eyes followed the movement, and he began to feel flushed again. “Well...I think about them a lot, and when I see them my heart goes faster, and I would have a hard time breathing. My stomach would feel fluttery as well.” She paused for a moment thinking about how to phrase the next part. “I suppose my anatomy tingles thinking about them.” She nodded to herself pleased with her explanation.

“Haruka, you said that you kissed someone before. Would it be alright if I kissed you?”

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, her breath brushing against Ai’s face. He had to swallow trying to keep from diving for her mouth. “I don’t mind kissing you, Ai. Do you want a peck, or...a real kiss?”

“What is the difference?”

Haruka placed her hands on his chest for a moment. “I will do this for you, you know that you are one of my best friends. When I see you...I see someone who is human, although you are still learning emotions. I will show you the difference. The only thing I request is to be sure you are having true feelings for this girl. If you want to be with her, I will support you, however, don’t use her as an experiment, I think that would hurt them, well...I know it would hurt them. That is part of human emotions is being attached to someone, and it would hurt if you shared that with someone and then they left you, at least I know it would me.” She gave him a tender smile.

“I understand.”

“This is a peck.” She whispered as she leaned forward and brushed her lips gently against his and pulled back.

He blinked a few times and his hand drifted to his lips, they tingled slightly. The feeling in his abdomen did a flip when her lips met his.

“Are you okay? Do you want to know what a real kiss is still?” She said softly. Just a one shot, the rest is on AO3, pop in and say hi and stay awhile.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27870177

#utapri #fanfiction #Ai wants to kiss #Haruka has changed #Not beta read we die like men #pottymouth #ao3

2 notes · View notes

quietwriterthoughts · 4 years

Text

Sunday

Drops of water hit the window. It’s raining again and I find myself drifting to sleep. The slow, comforting sound of the water rare now that the weather is getting colder. I doze in and out of sleep until a different sound forces my eyes open. I look out the window and from my cozy spot in the recliner chair, I hear it. In the kitchen, the old lady is bustling back and forth, from the fridge to the stove, getting ready for lunch, unaware that our quiet life is about to be upended.

I can’t see the door from where I sit, but I can hear them coming even before they get to the door. Whatever anyone says, my hearing is still as clear as it was when I was young. My eyesight may be going and my old bones not as strong, but my mind is still sharp. The old can age gracefully and still keep their wits about them, even if they choose to sit in a recliner for most of the day. As it so happens, I don’t bother to get up from my chair as the door opens. I know from experience that the small foyer only gets crowded as the family arrives. It's Sunday; the best day of the week, in my opinion, and the entire family will come over for lunch and my usually quiet home will fill with laughter and the pitter patter of the grandchildren’s little feet.

The door opens and many voices fill the house all at once. I groan ever so slightly and glance around the room. The living room is small for a townhouse, but with my recliner in the corner and the couch on the opposite wall, we’ve made it work. I glance at the shelf beside the tv. Several of my precious trinkets have been kindly set up high by the old lady, in preparation for the ones that have just arrived. The first group is loud, boisterous and full of a boundless energy that I will swear, up and down, I never had in my youth. Their voices echo down the hall and the quiet disappears. They say it’s the darkest before the dawn, well in this house it’s the quietest before the chaos.

If I wasn’t paying attention, I might’ve missed it. The shape that comes hurtling around the corner is a blur of black and white and mostly legs. The dogs have arrived. The first dog skids into the room and a second follows right behind, a little slower, but, she still careens into the room with the same propulsion. Two more creatures follow and I am a little more relieved to see these ones. They, at least, can control the two blurs that still have leashes attached. With matching mops of curly black hair and teasing smiles, the twins, one in pink and one in blue, chase the two dogs in a complete circle. The chase through the dining room, into the kitchen and then back seems endless, until one of the dogs collides into the couch. The twin in blue slides right in beside him, laughing hysterically as only a tiny human could.

“Liam! Scooter!” comes the booming voice of the tall man from the foyer. He, who looks just like the boy on the floor. The two culprits look at each other and make a run for it, running into the kitchen as the tall man comes around the corner. The other dog walks right behind him as if she hadn’t just been apart of the chase seconds before.

The man smiles at me and says hello in a quiet voice. Everyone does that now. No matter how loud the house gets or the conversation in it, they always speak to me that quiet voice. I try to say hello back, but the twin in pink begins to cry from the kitchen and the tall man is gone. I watch as he goes to console the small girl. The twin in blue is on the verge of tears, but stands beside his sister, his arms crossed in defiance and guilt.

A shadow crosses over my face and I look away from the scene. My heart does a little flip and I want to stand now, to get up and jump and run. My best girl stands in front of me, her warm eyes staring into mine, familiar and kind. No longer the young girl from my youth, she too has grown older. She kneels and her hand touches my face, her fingers featherlight and gentle. “I’ll try to keep them quiet today” she tells me, but, both she and I know that what she is proposing is almost impossible.

The crying stops as the door opens again and the second group arrives. My girl gets up to greet them and I sigh. I want to follow her, but my bones creak as I stretch them out and I stay where I am. There are only three in this next group and while they are the calmer of the two groups, they can be just as loud. The woman laughs and the sound bounces of the walls. It’s joined by the laughter of another voice, smaller, and deeper. I am now fully awake. The kind boy is here today. His protests echo down the hall as the mother of the twins peppers him with kisses and hugs. It’s a scene that has occurred so often over the years that I don’t have to get up to see it.

The boy comes around the corner, a bag on his shoulder and a toy car in his hand. The twins race up to him and he hands the blue twin the car. The little girl pouts as she watches her brother run off with the toy, but the kind boy has come prepared. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small trinket. I cannot see what it is, but the girl takes the object and hugs the boy before following her brother. He watches her go and then turns towards me. He shrugs off his backpack and places it on the ground and starts to walk towards me when he is intercepted by the old lady, who hugs him as only a grandmother would, crushing and with love.

The others all spill into the living room as the boy is pulled into the kitchen, no doubt to be given a preview of what is for lunch. My best girl reappears with them and comes to stand next to my chair. My heart does the little flip again and I stare at her until my eyes begun to droop.

I wake up sometime later and the group has moved to the dining room. Lunch is well underway and the dogs are under the table, sitting at the feet of the old man, who must have arrived after I dozed off. He’s notorious for handing out tidbits to the dogs, his fingers always at the ready with a scrap of bread or cheese to sneak under the table. There is a running joke that even though the basket of bread stays at his end of the table, he never actually eats any of it. The kind boy, who sits next to him, likes to take several pieces right at the beginning and will pile it next to his plate, just in case. He learned that from my girl. I crane my head to see her, but she is at the other end of the table, next to the old lady. She sits across from the one who has what my girl calls, the Eye. She can silence loud voices and curb bad behaviour with only a single look. I used to be the subject of that look, but since the twins arrived, the look has changed targets. Thank god.

When I used to join the group at the table, my place was next to my girl, although I occasionally moved around to make sure the dogs were behaving. That was a long time ago. Now, I prefer to stay in my chair and watch, my old nose telling me everything I need to know about what’s being served. Today, its pasta with meatballs, plus a bowl of leaves with a bitter smell that makes my nose crinkle. My best girl used to say that I had the worst sniffer in the world and that I couldn’t sniff out a steak if it was right in front of me. I could, for the record. I just chose to use my nose in a more advanced way, like finding the lost cookie in the far reaches of the couch or the day old potatoes in the garbage bin outside. A dummy could smell a steak right in front of them, but only a real hound could find something no one else could.

There is a lull in conversation and kind boy looks over to me and says something to the table. I lift up my head and watch as he brings his empty plate to the kitchen and then heads back towards me, one of his hands curled tight at his side. He kneels in front of my chair and opens his hand. A kibble sized piece of meatball, flattened ever so slightly, lands next to my paw. The boy smiles and glances back at the table while I eat the small offering. He turns back as I swallow it and I look up at him. He has gotten older since I first met him, taller too. He’s even had a haircut since he was last here. But, he still smells the same as he did when he was no bigger than the twins. It’s a mixture of cookies and dirt and I love it.

His hand reaches out and touches my ears, flipping one of them back over.

“They still feel like velvet,” he whispers to himself, as his fingers trace the path of white around my eyes that has long since replaced the brown.

“Are you tired, Buddy?” he asks me, his hand stopping to rest on my head. I want to tell him no, that I can still chase him around the house too. I look at him and manage to sneak a kiss to his hand instead. He recoils and laughs, his twinkling eyes full of happiness.

“Buddy!” he scolds, fondness overriding any real annoyance. He tries to wipe his hand with his shirtsleeve, but as he does I sneak another kiss to his cheek. He falls back onto the floor in his haste to get away from any more of my kisses. This proves disastrous for the boy as the other dogs abandon the table, which is now being cleared, and lunge for him. They jump all over him, licking his face and pinning him down. The commotion doesn’t faze the big people as they are given mugs of steaming liquid, but it does get the attention of the twins, who bolt from their parents and join in on the fun. I watch in amusement as the boy tries to get free, calling for his dad to save him, tears of laughter streaming down his face as the dogs now begin their assault on the smaller, easier to pin children.

The big people look over and they begin to move to the living room, mugs held carefully in their hands, high above the madness going on below. The boy breaks free and jumps for cover onto the couch. His father takes pity on him and sits in front of him, protecting him from any further attack. The old man pats me on the head as he drags a dining chair next to the recliner. My girl is the last to come. She nudges my shoulder and I look up at her.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she says. “Scooch over.” She gives me another poke and I sigh loudly, which elicits a laugh from the lady with the eye.

“You’re such an old man,” the lady says in that quiet voice, reaching over to pat me on the head. Her hands are gentle and kind, just like the kind boy next to her.

I shift slightly and my girl slides in beside me. I lay my head on her legs and gaze up at her. Her hands are the ones I like the best. They glide over my head and neck in a way that always makes me feel sleepy and safe. I can feel her laughter, her body vibrating as she watches the twins try to escape the dogs, and I hum softly in response.

My house is noisy, crowded with dogs and children, there are little toys that pinch when you step on them and adults who squish together on couches not made for more three people. I feel my eyes begin to droop once more, the gentle motion of my girl’s hand on my back and the blissful chaos that surrounds me lulling me to sleep.

I want to stay awake to run and to play with the dogs and children, to go into the empty kitchen and try and reach the last meatball on the counter, but for right now, I am content.

My family is all around me. My girl is beside me. I close my eyes and dream of more Sundays.

The End.

#writer #short story #writer life #writing inspiration #write #story #family

1 note · View note

valor-selfships · 4 years

Text

little villa in sicily ch 2 - jjba sorlato babyfic

Ao3 Link -- Tag on my Blog (read the rest here!)

Summary: "Gelato..." Sorbet says. His voice hovers just above a whispering tone. "Oh my God. I could've lost both of you."

"And I could've lost you," Gelato says back. He's not a man to cry, never has been, but damn is he on the verge right now. His eyes burn, and he blinks to clear them. "Even -- even if they hadn't killed me, too, I could've lost you. And I swear, I swear to God I had no idea that I was -- that I might be --"

It's still hard for him to say it out loud.

After narrowly escaping their own deaths and finding out something shocking, Gelato and Sorbet do the only rational thing: they up and run off. Too bad Risotto Nero has incredibly strong paternal instincts, and Pesci can't keep a secret.

Notes: because there’s not enough sorlato in the world and i have yet to find a single fic of them with a baby, biological, adopted, or otherwise???? like officially, at least. there’s plenty of “team as family” but i haven’t seen any where they’re officially adopted soooo. have this. and yes, title is a play on “little house on the prairie.”

Wanna know more about this AU? Boom! Click this link.

There will be a mildly detailed birth scene later in the fic, so if that bothers you, feel free to not read.

I'm a trans guy myself! No hate comments.

Chapter Two - And I Would Walk 500 Miles...

A little under two weeks ago, Italy, 2000. La Squadra headquarters.

"You've gotta be shitting us. You're shitting us, Pesci. There's no way it was that easy." Formaggio's shocked voice rings out through the for-once completely silent headquarters. "You're tellin' me that Sorbet just... straight up texted you his location?"

Although his voice is far more shocked than accusatory, Prosciutto shoots the other man a withering glare from across the room should he dare change his tone. Formaggio pretends not to notice him despite the obvious shudder he gives.

Pesci, on the other hand, looks nervous, but what else is new? Even so, they all have to admit that it's a little bit different this time. For months, they've been searching for their missing comrades on and off with no success. And then, suddenly, out of the blue, Pesci gets a text from Sorbet's number with an address in Sicily?

"This feels like a trap," Ghiaccio squints from where he sits on the couch. From next to him, Illuso nods.

"You two do have a point, but if they were trying to bait any of us, why would it be Pesci?" Melone points out. "It's not like he's the leader, or even close to it. It'd make more sense to send it to Prosciutto, or Risotto himself."

"He's still a member of the team," Prosciutto growls. "Regardless of whether or not you personally think he's important or worth being here, him being a part of the team means that they could still use him to get to us."

"Well, uh, I'm pretty sure it was Sorbet, though," Pesci says. He sounds uncertain, and Prosciutto presses his finger to his nose.

"You're pretty sure, or sure? We don't have time for pretty sure, here," Prosciutto says. Though his voice is undoubtedly irritated, it lacks the same type of venom he uses with everyone else. "You need to be absolutely positive before we make any moves."

Pesci gulps, and then nods rapidly. "N-no, no, I'm sure it was him. I got another text right after, it looked like he'd sent it real fast 'cause there was a ton of misspelled words." Ready to show them the proof, he pulls out his little phone and opens up the text he got from Sorbet's number. "He was begging me not to tell anybody about the address, but I couldn't keep it quiet. I-I didn't wanna make anybody mad -"

Finally, Risotto holds up a hand to stop Pesci and announce he needs to speak himself. "That wouldn't have been possible, given the circumstances. Either you would have kept lying to us, or you would have had to reveal what Sorbet sent you. But you chose the best choice." He narrows his eyes a little. "I am not sure what drove them all the way to Sicily. I have... a small theory. But it may not be true. So there is no reason to voice it right now." His tone signals that he's not willing to continue discussing it at the moment, so the rest of the team decides not to pry. "But... as I said, this is the best outcome. Now that we know for sure where they are located... we can finally find them and ensure their safety."

"And, preferably, figure out why they fled in the first place," Prosciutto adds. "If it was something involving gang business, they should've told us. We shouldn't let them off the hook, Risotto."

Risotto presses his lips together and shakes his head. "I never said I would. But what I ultimately decide to do... will depend on whether or not my hunch is correct."

Somewhere in the Sicilian countryside, about a week ago, 2000. In a little villa.

"What're you doing up and on your feet, mio caro? You should be resting."

Gelato looks over his shoulder from where he stands in the kitchen, in front of the open fridge. Drat. He could've sworn Sorbet was still asleep when he'd snuck out of bed, but then again, given how heavy on his feet he is these days, he supposes it wouldn't be all that surprising if he did wake him after all and simply didn't notice.

"Just getting a snack," Gelato sighs. "Honestly, tesoro, you worry far too much. The baby isn't due for another week."

Sorbet steps up next to Gelato, puts his arms around his waist so he can rest his hands on his belly. "I know. But you do need to try to stay off of your feet. There's always the chance she could come a little early."

Gelato snorts. "I'd be lucky if that were the case. Then I might finally be able to get some sleep... decent sleep, at least." As if proving his point, he yawns and stretches, closing the doors to the fridge. He doesn't move his feet, though, just rests his hands on top of his husband's and leans into his touch. It's warm, and secure, for the moment.

Suddenly, he lifts his head a little, like a dog on alert. "Car. Pulling up outside," Gelato says under his breath. Sorbet stiffens, carefully stepping away from him and towards the front door. "Sorbet -"

"Just stay right there," Sorbet tells him. There's no hint of fear or wavering in his voice; instead, he sounds strong and steady, a real change from only a few months back. He's completely determined not to let anything put his family in jeopardy again, no matter what that is. Even though his mind is racing through the worst case scenarios right off the bat, he doesn't let it show on his face as he puts his hand on the doorknob, unlocks the door --

"YYOOOOUUUU ASSHOLES!"

As soon as he unlocks the door, it swings open and nearly smacks him square in the face. Luckily, his upcoming fatherhood hasn't dulled his reflexes, and Sorbet leaps back out of the way of the door...

Only to then get body slammed by a small, very cold, blue-and-white blur. A very familiar small, very cold, blue-and-white blur.

Despite the fact that he's now lying flat on the floor, Sorbet allows himself to relax for the first time in several months, a laugh leaving his lips all on its own. "It's nice to see you again, Ghiaccio."

"Eat shit!" Ghiaccio frowns down at his target, then stands up and brushes himself off. As expected, the rest of the team files in after him, apparently satisfied that there's no danger based on what's going on. Even so, Ghiaccio isn't done, and he keeps right on talking even as Risotto parts from the group and goes around Sorbet. "You two scared the hell out of us, what the fuck, man?! If you wanted to leave or whatever, you could've at least told us! They say to "forgive and forget" or whatever, but I for one -"

"I was right, after all."

Despite not being nearly as loud as Ghiaccio, the deep rumble of Risotto's voice resonates through the room. He's standing in front of the couch, looking down at the person sitting on it. Immediately, all of the team's eyes are on their leader first, then they look towards who he's looking at.

Gelato looks rather unimpressed with the whole situation as he uses the fork he's holding to grab a chunk of the chocolate cake he's got on his plate and shove it in his mouth. At first, what he's referencing isn't obvious to the team, until he speaks again.

"You must be due any day now, am I right?"

You could hear a pin drop with how quiet it gets in the room.

And then, as per usual, the silence is shattered by Ghiaccio screeching out: "He's pregnant?!"

Gelato chooses to ignore him, and the resulting echoes of "what" and "oh my God" in favor of answering Risotto. "Yeah. I'm supposed to have a week left, so they say."

"Mmm... wouldn't bet on that," Risotto says. "Don't take my word for it, it's just a feeling. Either way, I hope you don't mind if we stay here for a while. We haven't gotten a hotel."

Gelato gives a little sigh. "Do you want me to be honest?" Risotto nods, and Gelato looks around at all of the sudden new house guests. "Stay as long as you'd like, as long as you can distract Sorbet from me for a little while."

The argument that ensues only goes to prove that, while you may be able to put distance between yourself and your family, some things never change.

#jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #sorbet #gelato #sorlato #sorgela #sorbet jjba #gelato jjba #la squadra #trans gelato #tmpreg #trans mpreg #mpreg #pregnancy #pregnant #babyfic #my writing #fic: little villa in sicily

3 notes · View notes

sagemoderocklee · 5 years

Note

For the fanfic trope thing: "oh no there's just one bed!" + stay by alessia cara + gaalee ofc (or inosaku if you up for a challenge)

sorry i didn’t get to this sooner, anon! doing writing prompts usually takes a while unless I’m in a good grove and I have definitely not been lately. i went with gaalee cause it’s my main pairing and also cause i think it’d be more challenging cause i do not hc that gaara sleeps post-Shukaku’s extraction. so like here’s to challenges!

i kinda forgot that i was supposed to like use a song as inspo so like i don’t know if i rlly did that part of this whole prompt justice…. but i hope you like it? also, this got a lil longer than i was planning. i suck at short things and finding the right beat to end on was… difficult. this is also entirely unedited so like please forgive me.

[read on ao3 // kofi]

—

“Sorry but that won’t be enough for two rooms–” “That will not be a problem!” Lee was soaked through, but the chill wasn’t so bad–at least, not for him. Gaara, on the other hand, was shivering beside him, his teeth chattering behind pursed lips.

“–and one bed,” the inn’s attendant finished, raising an eyebrow.

“O-oh,” Lee squeaked.

“That’s fine,” Gaara snapped at his side. “We’ll take whatever’s available.”

“But Kaze–” Gaara silenced Lee with a look and a snap of his chakra.

“It’s fine,” Gaara said heavily.

“I’ll just need an ID,” the attendant said, eyeing the two. “Just one night, right?”

“Yes, please.” Lee handed over his papers–fake for the sake of the mission–with a tired smile.

The storm had caught them unawares in the midst of tracking a missing nin. They’d been separated from their team hours earlier and had been in the processing of setting up a camp under the shelter of a rock formation when thunder had rumbled overhead.

The downpour had been too heavy for them to safely remain out of doors, so they’d packed their things and made for the nearest town.

Rainbow Country–home to Amegakure and ceaseless rain–was dotted with random inns all along the most traveled roads and it didn’t take long for them to find a safe place to rest.

Once they’d been checked in, the attendant led them up a flight of stairs and to a room at the end of long, narrow hall. “Bathroom’s just down the hall,” the attendant said, pushing the door open to their room open. He dropped the keys into Lee’s hand. “Have a good night, gentlemen. Check out’s at noon.”

The door closed behind them as thunder boomed across the sky and Lee’s heart sank. Their room was smaller than what a hundred-and-fifty ryo a night should have got them.: the bed was small, but only slightly smaller than the room, and and had been pushed right up against the wall to provide enough floor space for a little bedside table. Apart from that, the room was barren, with hardly any space for Lee to do his stretches in.

“This is quite the predicament,” he said with an awkward laugh, a lump forming in his throat.

“What’s the issue?”

“Well,” Lee began, “when he said there was only one bed, I had assumed it would be… bigger.”

“I don’t sleep,” Gaara said flatly. “You should know that by now.”

“O-oh, of course.” Lee wasn’t disappointed per say. After all, it wouldn’t be fair to share a bed with Gaara when he secretly harbored feelings for him. He definitely hadn’t been privately hoping for the chance to share a private moment in close quarters, moonlight shining in Gaara’s eyes as he confessed–

“Do you want to take a shower first?” Gaara’s voice cut through Lee’s musings like a kunai to the throat.

“N-no! You go right ahead! I think I will just dry off and shower in the morning.”

Gaara shrugged before disappearing from the room, leaving Lee alone with his disappointment and denial.

Lee dropped his bag on the floor, where it squelched and water pooled. At least it had a water-proof lining, he thought as he rummaged through for a towel and something to wear.

He unzipped his flack jacket, patted his face dry, and toweled off his hair before the dreaded task of peeling himself out of his sopping wet suit. Though he loved his suit dearly, it was not meant for extreme weather conditions–especially not such heavy rain which made it stick to him like a magnet.

He grunted, scrunching his face at the unpleasant feel of his suit slowly peeling away from his skin. He was halfway out of his suit when the door opened and Gaara walked in.

Lee squeaked and fell to the floor with his suit stuck around his thighs.

“We should go over our plans for the morning.” Gaara paused, staring at Lee, sprawled out at his feet. “What are you doing?”

“Getting out of my suit?”

The corner of Gaara’s mouth twitched and he stepped over Lee, moving to the bed. “I didn’t realize it was such a production getting out of that thing.”

“It is not usually,” Lee said, picking himself up from the floor and pulling the suit back up to hide his modesty. “But it does stick terribly when it is wet.”

“Ah,” Gaara said, gaze two pinpricks of reflected moonlight.

Lee shifted, face suffused with warmth. He cleared his throat. “Would you mind turning around while I change?”

Gaara’s gaze snapped to Lee’s. Lee hadn’t been aware it had wandered away from his face until that moment and his sense of embarrassment heightened. He covered his bare chest, smiling sheepishly.

“Sorry,” Gaara said gruffly, turning away to stare out the window.

Lee changed as quickly as he could, removing his drenched suit and hardly bothering to dry himself off further before throwing on his shirt and shorts.

“Done!” he declared, wringing his suit out before he could think better of it. Water splashed onto the floor, pooling around his feet. “Oops.”

Gaara’s towel landed on his head, still slightly damp from his shower. “We should go over our plans for tomorrow, and then you should rest. A good night’s sleep in a proper bed would not go remiss.”

“Proper rest is important,” Lee agreed absently, mopping up the small puddle. “You should try resting some too.”

Gaara let out an annoyed huff, a barely audible puff of air escaping through pursed lips.

“I do not mean sleep,” Lee hastened to add. “Just… rest. Your body and mind will thank you for it.”

“I take your point.”

“Do you want to leave at sunrise?” Lee asked, turning out the light and climbing onto the bed. “That would be best. We’ll need to find an aviary so we can contact the others. In this rain, my sand will be useless.”

“I am sure Darui-san is taking good care of everyone else!”

“I have no doubt, but it’s my responsibility to ensure the safety and success of this mission. That last attack caught me off guard.”

“You should not beat yourself up. We were all surprised! There is a reason our target is in the Bingo Book, after all!”

Gaara shifted at the foot of the bed, glancing up at him. “Will you kick me if I sit here while you sleep?” he asked, fingers grazing the edge of the bed.

Lee felt his face warm instantly. “N-no! Of course not!” After a moment of consideration, he added, “But it would probably be more comfortable up here, so you can lean against the wall.”

Gaara eyed him skeptically. “And you won’t attack me in your sleep?”

“Why would I do that?” Lee asked, caught between exasperation and horror.

“Your teammate informed me that you have… unusual sleeping habits, and I have observed you on this mission–you do sleep different from the others.”

Lee was grateful for the darkness of the room because his face was hotter than a furnace and most likely beat red. He buried his face in the pillow, mumbling, “I did not realize you had been watching me.”

“There isn’t much to do besides observe my surroundings late at night,” Gaara pointed out. The bed dipped and creaked as Gaara’s weight settled beside Lee. “I’m sorry if that was a breech of your boundaries. Temari says I’m prone to doing things that most would find off-putting.”

Lee shook his head, face still hidden within the fluff of his pillow. “It is all right.”

“Do you need the blanket?” Gaara asked, rising from the bed briefly.

“No, I will be too hot with anything else on.” When he wasn’t on missions, Lee was used to sleeping in the nude with just a thin sheet between him and the air. It was the only way he could stay cool at night, otherwise he’d toss and turn and wake up drenched in sweat.

“It’s freezing out,” Gaara said, disbelief hidden in the flat note of his voice.

Lee laughed. “I am always too hot,” he explained. He lifted his head, holding his arm out towards Gaara. “Feel me.”

A rush of adrenaline followed his request, which only made his body warm further, but he quashed it down as quickly as he could. Gaara eyed the arm before him, the green of his eyes skating across the scars that criss-crossed along Lee’s skin.

Gaara’s fingers were cool against Lee’s burning skin. They left a feather light trail of cool air in their wake. Gaara’s hand wrapped around Lee’s wrist for a brief second before he released Lee, looking away. “You feel like the desert.”

There was a reverence in the way the word ‘desert’ rolled off his tongue, as though the very word were sacred. The tone hit a nerve in Lee, something hot and deep burning at his core. He swallowed past a lump in his throat.

“I suppose my scars are a bit rough,” he croaked, staring up at Gaara, his gaze unintentionally beseeching.

“I meant your skin is hot,” Gaara clarified. “They are rough though.”

“They used to call me ‘hot-blooded’ when I was a kid.” Lee laughed, a note of bitterness creeping into it. “I suppose this is not what they meant.”

“Doubtful.”

An awkward silence fell between them. The space between them in the bed warmed, like a beacon for Lee to move closer. He kept his gaze rooted to the wall before him, laying so still he might have been maid of stone.

Beside him, Gaara stared ahead, in much the same fashion, unmoving except for the careful rise and fall of his chest.

“I’m usually cold.” The abruptness of Gaara’s voice in the silence made Lee jump, his heart racing like he’d just taken off his weights.

“O-oh?”

Gaara held out his own arm. “See?”

Lee could barley hear anything over the cacophony his hear was making, over the sound of blood rushing in his ears. He reached out and touched the bare, unmarred skin of Gaara’s arm, running his whole hand across the soft skin of his inner arm. The cold seeped into his hand before the feel of soft skin registered with his damaged nerve endings, and Lee drank it in as though he were the desert Gaara had said he was.

If Lee was a desert, Gaara was the cool water that could save a man from death.

Lee’s mouth went dry at the thought. He pulled his hand away, trying to leech some of the cool from Gaara as he went.

“Are you always this cold?” The whisper of Lee’s voice, in contrast to the abruptness of Gaara’s, felt too intimate. It felt as though he were revealing himself in the darkness of their little hotel room. He looked up at Gaara, a new question in his gaze.

Gaara nodded. “It’s worse here. With all this rain.”

Lee had never wanted to kiss anyone as badly as he wanted to kiss Gaara in that moment. He wanted to press himself close, sap the cold from Gaara’s body and give him his own warmth instead. He wanted to kiss him until he complained of fever.

He shoved his face into his pillow, afraid that somehow Gaara would be able to read his thoughts.

“I’ll let you sleep.” Gaara shifted and the bed dipped until Gaara arm–cool and soft–pressed against Lee’s.

“I hope you get some rest too,” Lee murmured, petulant in his frustration with himself.

Lee didn’t fall asleep as quickly as he usually did. He kept his body still, so still he felt stiff, and the heat of embarrassment made it all the harder to calm his racing thoughts. He wanted to roll over and talk to Gaara more; he wanted to reach out and take his hand; he wanted to throw caution to the wind and wrap himself around Gaara until he drifted off.

A cool breeze settled over Lee, making him shiver. Chakra–warm with familiarity, and gentle yet strong–settled over him like a blanket, cooling his burning skin. He jerked, looking up to find Gaara watching him, his eyes intent and wide as the full moon hanging outside their window.

“Forgive me,” he murmured, gaze unblinking. “I should have asked.”

Lee shook his head, a giddy grin stretching across his face. “Thank you.”

Lee fell asleep moments later, smiling foolishly.

When he woke in the morning, as the grey light of early morning broke through the clouds above, it was to find himself tangled around Gaara, who seemed perfectly content, if not outright pleased by the opportunity to steal Lee’s warmth.

“You could have told me you were cold,” Lee teased, voice muddled with sleep.

“I thought I did.”

Lee laughed, stretching his arms high above his head. Gaara watched him, a languid smile lighting up his face.

“Did you rest well?”

“I did. And you?”

Lee’s grin was as warm as the sun. “I did. I should sleep with you more often–I mean–that is not what I meant! I simply meant that you are a good sleeping partner–uh, no, I meant–”

Gaara laughed, warm and low, as sweet as honeycomb. “Lee, you’re babbling.”

Lee flushed, his face an inferno. “I-I-I–”

Gaara’s hand against his cheek stopped him mid-babble. The coolness of his skin soothed the heat in Lee’s face. “Breathe, Lee. I know what you meant.”

Lee’s heart sank. “You–you do?” he squeaked.

“I do.” Gaara’s smile, small and amused, left Lee all the more confused. His hand dropped from Lee’s face and he rose from the bed, stretching out the kinks in his back. “We should hurry. We don’t want to get caught in another storm, after all.”

Despite the lack of inflection, Lee could hear the implications in Gaara’s words all too clearly. He jumped from the bed, grinning like the fool in love that he was.

“Oh! Absolutely! It would be–most unfortunate if we were forced to find shelter again!”

Gaara’s responding laugh was all the confirmation Lee needed to know that maybe, just maybe he had a chance after all.

#gaalee #leegaa #naruto #shippuden #rock lee #gaara #otp: the ultimate otp #otp: love is a foreign language i barely understand but when you speak it the words make so much sense #catch me peppering in random plot that i'll probably use for some other much longer piece because i can't control myself #Anonymous

32 notes · View notes

yoon-kooks · 6 years

Text

Blossom🌸

Pairing: Stripper!Jimin x Reader

Genre: Stripper!AU, College!AU, Fluff

Summary: You infiltrate your local strip club to gather research and inspiration for your next painting and end up bringing home a stripper who also happens to be your cute neighbor.

Warnings: stripping, mentions of sex

Word Count: 3.3k

⤐ Story 1 in the Blossom!Universe; Read Blossom-pt.2 on my masterlist!

A/N: i know what yall are thinking!!! this is a stripper!au without smut??? but theres a good chance ill be writing more drabbles in this universe so look out for those!🌸

“Cute.” Your studio arts professor hands you back your print sample of a swimming platypus.

“…Is it not good?” You examine the print again to see where you went wrong. If anything, you thought this painting had turned out a lot better than the one of a goblin shark.

“Y/N, it’s amazing. It really is,” she tries to reassure you with a chuckle, but you know there’s something wrong with it. “It’s just… you’ve practically drawn the entire animal kingdom this semester.”

“…and?”

“Don’t you think you should try painting something else…? Like, I don’t know… a human?”

“But I’m more comfortable with animals.”

“That’s what I mean! You should try stepping out of your comfort zone? Plus, your portfolio will look better with more of a variety!”

“And how do you suppose I all of a sudden get inspiration for painting a human subject? I need something before the exhibition tomorrow.”

“I don’t know, try going to a strip club or something?” Your professor thinks she’s funny. “Just be creative!”

You lay on the floor of your dorm, desperately searching for inspiration. With animals and nature, it’s so easy for you to just sit down and paint whatever comes to mind. But with humans? You don’t even know where to start, and it certainly doesn’t help your concentration when a puppy is barking on the other side of the wall like it’s begging for you to draw it.

And in addition to the barking, you’re also being harassed by the constant replaying of your professor’s advice. Sure, you’d like to paint something that your professor and peers will approve of, but that becomes awfully difficult when what they want is not what you want. You just wish you could paint another animal and be done. But now even that’s impossible when all you can think about is trying to make everyone else satisfied.

“Shit.” You drag yourself off the floor, thrown on a fuzzy sweater, and walk out of your dorm with a sketchbook and pencil.

To your surprise, sneaking into a strip club undetected is a lot easier than one would think. And once you’re in, you squeeze your way through the crowd, inspecting the flashy lights, the booming stereos, and the big stage until you spot a table for one in a secluded corner. Perfect. No one will bother you there.

When the main show starts, the first thing you do is flip open your sketchbook with your pencil ready to draw. The second thing you do, however, is yawn. You aren’t sure what people enjoy about strangers prancing around naked on stage, but it could just be an acquired taste. Although the strippers are attractive and they have beautiful bodies, you’re just not interested nor inspired. Maybe it’s your artist block acting up, but it seems you’ve wasted your time.

Before you can get up to leave the club, you’re alarmed by a sudden eruption of screams. Giving it one last chance, you glance up and see the spotlight on an incredibly handsome boy in all white, running his fingers through his dark hair. Still fully clothed, he dances, moves, spins on stage, and somehow it’s so different from the previous acts. So much that you forget where you are until he flips his jacket off his shoulders and tosses it aside as he continues to dance.

The way he graces the stage is elegant and almost angelic. You flip your sketchbook back open and wait for the demon to show itself. He makes his way down the catwalk to engage more with the crowd, and money’s already being thrown before his body’s even exposed. Once he loses his tank, however, the cheering gets twice as loud and the stage is showered with crumpled bills. But you don’t have time to worry about that.

For the first time that night, your pencil starts gliding across the page in your sketchbook. You roughly sketch out his body, his motions, his movements, his smirks. You’re too busy drawing to notice when he catches a glimpse of you as he kicks his pants off to reveal a very healthy ass, or when he teases several customers with his rolls and thrusts.

With several pages filled with new sketches, you hear the collective aww from the crowd, assuming that means the handsome boy is done for the night. The only one in the crowd who isn’t sad is you, because you finally collected all the research material you need to be inspired. And before you leave, you decide to flesh out the details of what you witnessed, in case the vivid images and inspiration escape you before returning home.

“Would you like a drink or a dance, Baby?” A stripper with pastel mint hair eyes you up and down, leaning against the table with his head cocked to the side. You’re shocked he even bothered approaching you when you didn’t tip at all. Unless that’s what he’s after.

“Uhh, no thanks, I was actually just on my way out,” you throw your sketchbook and pencil into your bag and get up to leave.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that, Sweetheart. Did you not enjoy your stay? Maybe I could change that.” The stripper continues to pester you, and you wonder if the smallest tip will help you escape.

“This one’s with me, Sugar.” An unknown voice appears behind you as the stripper named Sugar shrugs and walks over to another customer waving their money around.

With a sigh of relief, you turn around, only to have your heart racing again in an instant. It’s the handsome boy you had sketched. Only instead of wearing an all-white costume, he’s now engulfed in an oversized black hoodie. You assume he’s off duty, so you aren’t sure why he’s approaching you like the other stripper had.

“Are you the freeloader everyone’s talking about?” he asks you.

“I suppose I am…” You look around and realize you’re probably the only broke college kid at the club, hence the only one who can’t afford to throw money around for lap dances.

“Can you at least show me your sketches?”

“What.”

“I saw you drawing something in your sketchbook during my performance earlier,” he does a cute little drawing gesture with his hand. “If you aren’t going to tip anything, the least you can do is show me what you drew.”

You suppose he’s right. Besides, you really do appreciate it when people take interest in your art, so you hand him your sacred sketchbook and watch as his expression changes from curious to awe.

“Are you an art student?” he asks while flipping through the quick sketches of his body.

“Yeah, I was just gathering research for a painting I need to do for tomorrow’s exhibition.”

“Oh? And I’m your muse?” He hands you back your sketchbook and catches a glimpse of your name written in the corner of the cover. “Y/N?”

You nod, getting your pencil ready to jot something down.” And may I ask what my muse’s name is?”

“It’s Jimin, part-time stripper, full-time dance student.”

“Wait, you’re a student, too?” You know you shouldn’t be surprised because the boy does look around your age, but still. You didn’t realize strippers had time for school obligations on top of work. “Which school?”

“Seoul Institute of the Arts.” No. That can’t be. There’s no way this handsome stripper goes to the same school as you. “Why do you look so shocked…?”

“I go there, too…” You shrink your body as if that’ll help you hide. You’re suddenly feeling super shy. “But you don’t happen to live in the dorms, do you…?”

“I do… Do you…?”

You nod.

“So what you’re trying to say is, we’re neighbors?” Jimin says as he stands outside his dorm, room 324, and you stand outside of yours, 325.

“I guess-” You’re cut off by a cute bark. “That’s your puppy making all the noise then?”

“Uh, yeah… I got her a week ago after saving up enough from work,” he opens the door and a tiny white fluff ball stretches its body in the door way before trotting over to greet you. You squat down to say hi to the little puppy who gives you her paw. “But anyway, the whole stripper thing needs to stay between you and me, yeah?”

Of course you have no intentions of letting people know you infiltrated a strip club anyway, so that means you also can’t be telling them your neighbor is a secret stripper. But Jimin doesn’t know that, and you’re going to use that to your advantage. “Okay, yeah, I won’t tell anyone… as long as you agree to be my model for the rest of the night.” You open your door and gesture for him to come in.

Jimin scoops up the feisty puppy and tucks it comfortably under his arm. “I thought I already was your model?”

“All you have to do is pose for me for a few hours,” you say, leading the stripper into your dorm-turned studio.

“Naked?”

“Shirtless is fine.” Anything more than that would be far too much for your eyes. You pretend not to peek as he promptly removes his hoodie and t-shirt to reveal a picture-perfect torso and something you didn’t catch as the club. You tilt your head to get a better look at the word inked to his ribs. Blossom. “Is that the name a stripper girl you’re in love with?”

“For your information, Blossom is the name of that little one over there,” he points over to where his puppy is trying to dig a hole into your pillow before brushing his fingers over his tattoo. “But, it’s also just a reminder to myself.”

You nod, “Ooh, fascinating…” Once all of your art supplies are set up on your cluttered desk, you glance up at the clock on the wall. Midnight already. “I’ll keep that in mind for my painting.”

The boy has a lot of good poses, some suggestive, others charming. One second he’ll be licking his lips with his hands at his belt, and the next he’s laying on your bed while running his fingers through his hair. Oh, and he also has this really cute smile when he’s watching you be so immersed in your art.

Once you decide on a pose to paint (the one on his back with the fingers running through his hair!), you hop off your chair and walk over to the half-naked boy on your bed. He blinks up at you with either innocent eyes or inviting eyes—you aren’t really good at telling the difference. You don’t know what he was expecting, but his face looks awfully surprised when you extend your phone for him to take.

“Can you take a pic of yourself in That™ position?” You do the fingers-running-through-hair thing.

“You don’t want to take the picture yourself?”

You shake your head.

“You don’t want to get on top of me and see with your own eyes?”

You shake your head again. He chuckles as he sits up, doing the fingers-running-through-hair thing a couple of times. Must be a habit. You didn’t notice the fifty other times he did the hair thing, but this time you’re made aware of his cherry blossom cologne, its alluring scent trying to pull you closer. But you know to keep a distance.

“You’re no fun to flirt with, you know that?” It almost looks like he pouts before finally taking your phone and tossing himself back against your mattress.

“I’m a lot flirtier when I don’t have a project due in less than ten hours.”

“Really?”

“No.” Your answer makes him frown, but he takes the selfies you asked for anyway.

You watch your bed sheets wrinkle with every sensual movement of the boy’s body as he finds the best angle for your research photos. Not only does he adjust the positioning of his head and arm, but also his squirmy lower half with his waist where his underwear is peeking out and his legs unable to keep still. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was frustrated, needy, and a tad bit horny.

As you wait for him to finish, you start mapping out your painting with a rough outline. You lightly sketch Jimin down to his waist and surround him with-

“Done~” the boy yawns, handing you back your phone. Eager, you swipe through the 37 photos taken by Park Jimin, all of which have an overwhelming amount of sex appeal. You don’t know how you’re going to narrow it down, though you suppose the one he set as your lockscreen is the best in his humble opinion. And it has a perfect view of his tattoo.

You feel Jimin’s eyes on you as you painting. The sensation of being observed is oddly comforting rather than pressuring, and maybe it’s because you know it’s not with judging eyes. From your bed, he follows your paintbrush’s every stroke against the canvas as you fill it in with a splash of color, bringing your subject into bloom.

“What made you choose me specifically to be your model?” the boy asks as you’re defining his abs.

You pause your painting for a moment to think about his question. “I don’t usually use people as subjects for my art, but my professor suggested that I step out of my comfort zone.”

“So you went to a strip club and surrounded yourself with naked people?”

“Exactly,” you nod and continue, “I took a chance, went to a strip club for the first and last time in my life, and met a boy. And out of all the humans in the world, he was the first to lend me inspiration.”

“I can’t believe you found inspiration in someone who sells their body for money,” Jimin chuckles but his words bother you.

“I know I’m literally painting your abs right now, but believe me when I say I took more inspiration from you than just from your body.”

“Well I’m glad,” he says, rubbing his toned belly. You’re still not convinced.

“Do you not like being a stripper?”

“I don’t hate it, and the performer in me really does enjoy being on stage. Plus, it pays for my puppy,” Jimin sighs because he knows you’re not going to let it go until you get a proper answer. “But there’s always this feeling of being trapped in a bud of expectation and insecurity. As long as I’m a stripper, my body will always outshine my dancing. And yet, I can’t bring myself to quit, in fear of not being a good enough dancer for anything else.”

You can only nod because you don’t know how to offer support. The boy sounds a lot less confident now than how you remember him dancing on stage. But you get it. Taking that first step out of your comfort zone is as scary as that painting you did of the goblin shark. But that’s the only way you’ll ever blossom.

After several hours of endless painting and the occasional puppy whining in her sleep, you rise like a zombie from your desk to show your muse the final product of your blood, sweat, and tears. But of course he’s already fast asleep on your bed with his puppy at ass o’clock.

Not wanting to disturb the two cuties, you carefully pull the covers over them, make a nice bed for yourself on the carpet with three spare blankets, and turn out the lights.

When you wake up, however, you smell cherry blossoms and feel something warm pressed up against your back. Thankfully, what you find when you roll over on the bed is not a sleeping Jimin, but instead a puppy licking her butt. As soon as she realizes her privacy’s been violated, she wags her tail and does some morning stretches.

You flip the covers and bed sheets over in search of a half-naked boy, but he’s not there. Instead, you see him all bundled up in his black hoodie and the three blankets you’d been using on the floor. Somehow the two of you mysteriously swapped places. You can only assume he woke up in the middle of the night and tucked you into bed. Because coincidences like that don’t just happen.

Relieved from everything, you take time to play with the puppy on your bed for a bit before you have to get ready and leave for the exhibition. The little one explores the dark depths beneath your bed sheet, her cold wet nose sniffing everything including your exposed legs, until her fluffy head finally pops back out with a tiny bark.

You’re startled by half-asleep mumbles and rustling blankets. Jimin sits up as his hood falls down to reveal a wicked bedhead. He tousles his hair around and you can’t decide whether it looks messy or really fucking hot—like he just had a quickie. “Did you finish your painting?” He blinks at you.

“Oh right.” You stop yourself from any sort of fantasizing and hop off the bed to grab the colorful canvas from your desk. Once it’s in the hands of the boy at the center of the painting, you plop down next to him on the blankets and wait for his response.

Before saying a word, Jimin’s eyes examine every inch of the canvas. From the pastel palette, to the boy’s fingers-running-through-hair pose, to the pink bed of flowers beneath him and petals around him, to the bold tattoo on his ribs.

“Are you calling me a flower boy?” He’s unable to hold back a smile creeping up.

“You’re the one with the tattoo,” you say, softly poking the boy’s ribs through his hoodie. “So you tell me.”

He shakes his head, “I still have a long way to go before I, you know, blossom…” You find it adorable how he cringes and shrinks his body at his own word. “But until then, I’ve found another flower to inspire me.” He’s totally talking about you.

“You mean your puppy?” you tease him, picking up the curious white pupper and tapping her wet nose against the boy’s cheek. He plants a soft kiss on her little head before taking her into his lap where she quickly curls up in a ball.

“Yeah her,” Jimin continues to stroke his baby’s fur as her eyelids grow heavier. It isn’t long before the precious bean is fast asleep, and your heart melts a little.

“I was pleasantly surprised to wake up back in my bed with her all cozied up next to me,” you reach over to pet the puppy even though it’s right at the boy’s crotch. “You didn’t have to do that, you know… But I appreciate it, Jimin.”

“No problem, Little One,” he gives you a cute duck face. “I’d want to make sure I have your permission before we sleep together anyway.”

You suppose that’s his way of asking for sex, but you really can’t take a hint. So you ignore him. “Do you want to come to the exhibition with me?”

A little disappointed that you ignored his invitation, Jimin sulks and grabs his duffle bag as he walks towards the bathroom, “Fine, but let me change into clean clothes first.”

“You’re fine with stripping down at a crowded club, but not in front of me?” you ask, not because you want to see it again, but because it’s ironic.

After pausing mid-step, he spins around and stands right before you, his beautiful dark eyes meeting yours. And rather than running his fingers through his own hair for the fiftieth time, he runs them through yours for the first. “Maybe I’m not a stripper when I’m with you.”

“Then what are you? A vampire?” you look up at him with a teasing grin.

“You’re impossible, you know that?” The boy shakes his head and does a cute little eye roll to pretend like he’s annoyed as he walks off to the bathroom. And when he comes back in a very casual boyfriend look, the two of you head over to the exhibition on campus with the painting tucked under your arm.

#bts scenarios #bts fanfic #jimin x reader #bts fluff #bts college au #bts imagines #jimin fanfic #jimin #bts #bangtan #blossom

902 notes · View notes