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shoutogepi · 4 years ago

Text

Midnight Masquerade

Todoroki Shouto & Shinsou Hitoshi

word count : 8.6k

[ ✘ (nsfw 18+) ]

themes : DUBCON, YANDERE. MFM threesome, vampire!todoroki, vampire!shinsou, spanking, praise kink??... double penetration, blood play (hello they’re vampires)

bio : You attend a masquerade ball in hopes of finding a bachelor on Halloween night… only to get much more than you originally bargained for.

author’s note : This fic was inspired by one of my fav movies when I was younger! Van Helsing with Hugh Jackman (2004), in which Dracula hosts an exquisite masquerade ball, full of masked vampires.

side note : Happy Halloween!! I didn’t have time to edit/beta this fic, so it may be a little choppy/rough.. but I’m about to leave for my Halloween party and I wanted to get this out on time so!! please try to enjoy, and I apologize if this is not up to my usual standards. <3

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

🅈ou received an invitation to a Halloween party… and that was about all the information you had to go off of. What awaited you at this gathering, you had absolutely no idea. The envelope had simply arrived on your doorstep at the beginning of the month, no messenger in sight.

This invitation, scrawled in perfect calligraphy and sealed with the kiss of a stamp upon wax, proved to be even more puzzling when you attempted to uncover its origin. And while you had asked around to anyone you could possibly think of— your friends, family, neighbors, hell, even your mailman— you found no one who could give you any answers. It seemed that you, for some reason, had been issued this invitation, when no one in your primary social network else had.

What was even more peculiar, was that a gown and a pair of heels had arrived two weeks later, in all senses more luxurious than you had ever seen, and tailored to your exact size and measurements. Just from lifting it out of the box, you could tell it was expensive. And as if that hadn’t been enough of a gift, a necklace and earrings that dazzled nearly enough to blind you arrived just a few days following the dress. Finally a last package arrived a few days before the party, containing an intricately-painted mask that tied the whole outfit together. Each of the gifts had a card laid across the top of the tissue-enfolded contents, signed off from your inviter and now confirmed “secret admirer, S.H.”

The enigma of it all perplexed you. You liked to tell yourself that a smart girl like you would never go to such an event, considering you had no clue who had sent you the invitation, let alone such extravagant gifts. You told yourself that you had no obligation to go, that it would be ill-advised to show up without any further information than the address, date, and time.

But someone had clearly gone to great lengths to impress you, and you couldn’t just ignore that. Curiosity burned bright inside you when raked your brain for potential inviters, and as you came to more and more dead ends, your intrigue grew with every second the event stayed on your mind.

You spent every day leading up to the party thinking about it, flipping back and forth as to if you were going to attend or not. Even on the night of, you spent a ridiculous amount of time switching between deciding on going or staying home, taking short bursts of either frantically getting yourself ready, or sitting down and scrutinizing the situation.

You ended up arriving at the address scrawled at the bottom of the mysterious invitation an hour late.

Although you had planned to just hail a cab thanks to your indecision, you were surprised to find a sleek, black Rolls Royce waiting for you at the entrance to your building. The driver, donned in a crisp black and white tux, sported an elegant mask across his face, and wordlessly opened the door for you, bowing and gesturing for you to enter. After a moment of hesitance, you decided it would probably be best to just get into the car— whoever had requested your presence had already gone to such lengths as to cloth and bejewel you— it only made sense for you to arrive in a vehicle that screamed as much wealth as did your outfit.

What you had not expected was to find the location of the event to be a rather estately manor at the border of the city. The driveway twisted through an ominous wood to reach the massive home, and rather nastily-spiked wrought-iron fences guarded the border of the property, looming metal casting eerie shadows against the overcast evening sky. You found yourself wondering briefly what exact purpose the metal lattice served— both sides adorned with rough silver spikes. Traditionally gates were meant to keep things from getting in… it was peculiar to you that they were double-sided.

It was certainly curious, but your eyes were quickly torn from the gates as the car ventured closer to the maleficent abode, your heartbeat beginning to pick up as you came nearer to the grand entrance. There was a gorgeous fountain laid between two sets of curved stone staircases, both leading up to the tall, mahogany doors at the dead center of the manor. The car came to a stop just before the fountain, and you spent the small moment your driver took crossing over to your side and opening your door in breathless anticipation.

The cool, dry October air felt heavenly against your exposed shoulders, the tops of your breasts just peeking out of the neck of the beautiful, sleek gown you’d been sent. The autumn chill did wonders to calm the thumping of your nervous heart, and as you climbed the stairs, your fingers trailing along the cold balustrade, you took a deep breath. When you chanced a look back toward the car, you found it had already disappeared, and a pang of uncertainty rang through you once more. Yes, this was definitely uncharastically brash of you— you still had no idea who could possibly be the one to invite you to such a prestigious soiree— and yet, you found your nerves crackling with excitement, barely able to contain your jittery disposition.

Two more men, also hidden beneath tuxedos and blank masks, bowed as they pulled the heavy wooden doors apart, revealing the bustling affair that lay inside. You were shocked to find so many bodies within just the first glance of the interior— it was a magnificent foyer that was ten times larger than the tiny apartment you had become so accustomed to, a sea of masked party-goers that ebbed and flowed with the live, string-quartet on the stage in the far corner of the room. Countless couples waltzed and spun across the middle of the room underneath humongous crystal chandeliers, all glittering and shining with the low lighting of a thousand candles, by far more fire hazards than you’d ever seen. It was quite a culture shock to you— you had never before been invited into the fruits of such luxury, this level of wealth as mysterious to you as the cryptic sender of your invitation, S.H.

And though this was your first time indulging in the pleasures of such extravagance, you looked like you belonged. You were sure that the outfit this mystery persona had given you to wear tonight was worth far more than the rent you constantly worried about making, and so you fit in quite seamlessly with the crowd of silk-enveloped, gem-encrusted faces, perhaps even going so far as to stand out. The soft silk of your pashmina tickled against your arms as it sat snug around your lower back, curled around your elbows and seams brushing against your hips. The thick necklace— more of a collar, really— sat heavy against your chest, each diamond shining brightly, leading to a large teardrop-shaped pendant of brilliant amethyst that hung perfectly in the middle of your chest. The ornate mask you’d been given concealed the top half of your face, bright ruby gems adorning along your eyes and matching your dress’ deep rouge to an impossibly perfect degree. Initially upon receiving such gifts you were suspicious of their authenticity, but standing now before such a display of affluence, you were certain they were real. The jewels and fine linens gave you a false sense of confidence, and after a moment of absorbing your astounding surroundings, you tentatively began to make your way into the party.

For a while you wandered around by your lonesome, but you didn’t really mind the solitude. It was a refreshing change of pace, and you admired each symbol of wealth you came across. The grand room was decorated with no expenses in mind— rich velvet curtains hung across the walls, tied back with gold corded tassels to allow the cold moon’s luminescence to shine down into the hall. Massive oil portraits lined the walls, each frame depicting a different person of undoubtable esteem, each in their own respect poised yet handsome as the last.

Your eyes wandered to the last two photos on the wall, both of them shockingly attractive in their own ways. One had wild, violet locks and a sultry smirk, the others’ hair split down the middle with tousled red and white, mouth set in an indifferent line. What stood out most to you was the emotion conveyed in both their eyes— it was cold and callous, sending shivers down your spine.

As you turned away from the portraits, you were met with a server, who offered you the silver platter he was carrying as he bowed. Tiny steak tartares, garnished with a red wine sauce and a sprig of herbs; the sight made your mouth water and you thanked him as you took one with the classy little fork he handed to you. Just as you turned your attention back to the portraits before you, you jumped at the discovery of a figure standing beside you.

He was tall, your head coming just above his shoulder, even in your four inch heels. He donned a crisp tuxedo of his own, but his bowtie was left undone, strips of fabric hanging loosely around his neck. Though there was a mask covering his face as well, you instantly recognized the purple flumes of hair, your surprise evident as you let out a small gasp. He didn’t seem to notice you, his eyes set on the frames above your line of sight, but he then began to speak, his deliciously deep voice taking you again by surprise. “Rather rare,” he spoke, quiet yet clear, eyes still scrutinizing the art before the pair of you.

“E-Excuse me?” you asked for clarity, wondering when exactly this man had appeared, and why you had not noticed such a captivating presence by your side.

At the sound of your voice, he turned his gaze to you, lazy violet eyes inspecting your figure without much attempt at concealing his blatant inspection. You bristled at his audacity, but soon found yourself relaxing as your own eyes wandered the length of his lithe, cut figure. It wasn’t your fault, you reasoned— you had just been admiring this man in his photo and now he appeared before you, looking even more delectable in person.

“The hors d'oeuvres,” he explained, eyes dropping to the forgotten disc of tender meat perched at the end of your fork. He let his gaze wander across your chest before he met your stare again, that same smirk coming to rest on his supple lips. “And such beauty as yours, of course. It’s unparalleled, Miss…?” he trailed off, angling his head to the side as he awaited your response.

You thanked him and told him your name, watching as his smirk only seemed to grow, something mischievous shimmering in those enticing amethyst orbs of his. He leaned forward and ducked into a slight bow, long fingers taking your free hand hostage as he brushed his lips against your knuckles.

“Shinsou will do, for now. Delighted to be acquainted,” he murmured as he pulled back, letting your hand drop and a brief silence fall on the pair of you.

Your eyes wandered to the portrait, then back to your new acquaintance. “That’s you, right?” You inquired, looking up at him through your mask. His bored eyes pierced yours as you met his gaze, and you felt heat accumulate in your cheeks. “What incredible artwork, I don’t think I’ve met anyone that’s posed for an oil painting— was it hard to sit still while it was being made?”

“Not at all,” he replied, taking a sip of the hammered-metal chalice in his large, gloved hand. “The fruits of life sweeten with patience, anyway.”

You wondered briefly if it was his first time posing for this kind of painting. Never had you met anyone who would want— or could afford, really— to commission such a painstakingly realistic portrait of themselves. How much it cost, you could not fathom, and did not care to discover. “So this is your party, then?” You continued after he made no further attempt at conversation.

He nodded, that smirk curling the corner of his mouth again. “You’re an observant little thing, aren’t you?” He remarked, sipping again from his cup. His words were rather rude, and you frowned before you shrugged them off, dismissing them in an instant. You weren’t really surprised by his smug comment, though your displeasure must have been visible because he immediately steered the conversation in another direction. “Are you enjoying yourself? May I get you a drink, my honored guest?”

It was a little off to you how his demeanor changed just like that, a flip of the switch, really— but you were thirsty, and you were curious to see what kind of expensive refreshments were available, so you found yourself nodding with a small smile of gratitude on your lips. He mirrored your smile before he mumbled something about returning soon, his figure swallowed up in the sea of masked faces.

Finding yourself alone once again, you went back to inspecting the portraits, happily humming to yourself as you enjoyed your hors d'oeuvre. You looked around the party, searching for that same waiter, wanting to grab a few more of those delicious bites while you had the chance.

It was then that you met a distinct set of eyes across the room, a white mask with delicate swirls decorating his handsome face. However much the mask concealed his face, there was no doubting that he was the other man from the portrait behind you— his hair was a stark giveaway— half of it scarlet and hanging loosely atop his brow, the other half a shocking shade of white, pushed back to give him a devilishly intimidating aura. Your throat tightened up as he began to make his way toward you, slowly but surely closing the distance between the two of you.

You couldn’t help but wonder if either of these men were the one who sent you your invitation— if one of them was to thank for showering you with such extravagance, for allowing you to dip your toes in the enticing pool of luxury. But you were not allowed to ponder the thought, for in no time at all the man in question stepped before you.

Without even a single thought, your body automatically shifted into a curtsey, and you blinked in surprise as he bowed his greeting in return. He didn’t give you a second to question it, lithe, gloved fingers taking hold of your hand and bringing it to his mouth. His lips were cold to the touch, and your hand trembled slightly as he let go.

“Todoroki Shouto,” he introduced himself, his smooth, deep voice resonating through your body. Something about him made you feel incredibly hot, yet you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. It was strange how much he seemed to affect you— almost supernatural. At your stunned silence, he smirked ever so slightly, shifting his head to look down at your shorter figure. “Your name, love? It would be rude of me to refer to you as the most alluring woman in the room the whole night, no?”

Flustered you were caught off guard, you quickly told him your name, adding on it was a pleasure to meet him.

“Y/N, hm? A beautiful name. It suits a woman as breathtaking as you.” He continued, and you could see how satisfied he was by your bashful reaction. “I can assure you, the pleasure is all mine.”

You smiled hesitantly at the man before you, unsure how to respond to his blatant flirting. With the momentary lull in your conversation, you looked over your shoulder to eye the painting once again. Todoroki watched your curious gaze like a hawk, unbeknownst to you. When you looked back to him, you smiled as you pointed your thumb over your shoulder. “Is that—”

“Would you like to dance?” He interrupted, folding your smaller hand in his and taking a step backwards into the dancefloor.

Panic coursed through you— you didn’t know how to dance, or at least, you didn’t think your ballroom skills would be nearly as good as his and everyone else’s here. Yet somehow when you opened your mouth to politely decline, instead came out, “I would be honored.”

With wide eyes you were guided into the center of the room, his other gloved hand coming to rest at the curve of your waist. Your hands found their own way into position, one on his shoulder, and the other wrapped tight around his as he began to steer you around the room. You were shocked to find yourself matching each of his steps, your feet moving in perfect harmony with his. But when you looked into his eyes, a trickle of horror ran down your spine.

He was looking directly at you, two-toned eyes boring into yours with unbridled desire, and some other emotion mixing in to create a frightful end result that could only be described as hunger. Yes, there was no mistaking it— that was hunger in his eyes— for what, you did not know, but somehow your body was aware that whatever it was, you were in for quite the night.

“The dress looks simply appetizing on you, love,” he whispered in your ear, chilling the blood in your veins just like that. “Were you surprised to find it fit like a glove? You look so angelic when you sleep… I hated to disturb you, but it was gratifying to know how much you enjoyed my touch...” His lips brushed against your dangling earrings, and a shiver ran through your body as he inhaled across the skin of your neck.

“Y-You—” you stuttered, eyes widening with realization. Had he— had he taken your measurements? He’d snuck into your bedroom? When? Why? You didn’t even know this man— why would he have taken such an interest in you, how did he know where you lived, and why— why was your heart beating out of your chest at the thought of him seeing you in your sluttly little pyjamas? You knew there was something off about this, but never could you imagine this would be the turn of events tonight. You were terrified, and yet ashamedly, a small part of you was pleased to know a handsome and powerful man as himself had gone to such lengths to woo you. There was no denying it… even though your stomach was tied into knots and fear sat like a stone in your belly, a white-hot, irrefutable desire had sparked to life between your legs.

“Not just me...” he murmured, the tip of his nose dragging against your temple before he dipped you down towards the tiled floor right in tune with the crescendo of the music, your back bending in his grip. Now upside-down, your heart skipped a beat as you recognized Shinsou staring the pair of you down from across the room, that same smirk on his lips as he raised his chalice in contempt. “You’ve met Hitoshi, correct?”

You were only spared a moment to piece it all together, that tight feeling in your stomach only twisting further. S.H… it wasn’t the name of one suitor, but two— Shouto and Hitoshi. Two rich and powerful men that both tricked you into coming to their home, and you had fallen for it— practically serving yourself to them on a silver platter. You were no better than a damn steak tartare! You wanted to face-palm, to smack yourself for being so naive, but you found that your body was not your own; you couldn’t control yourself, couldn’t even speak, and all you could do was continue to dance with the horribly attractive man whose trap you had strolled right into.

Had they drugged you? Was it that accursed steak tartare? But then, wouldn’t you have passed out, or your limbs stopped working? How were you not missing a single step with Todoroki right now, spinning when he led you to spin, and willingly stepping into him when he pulled you back into his embrace.

“What… What are you going to do to me?” Your voice was shaking, even though your body moved more confidently than ever as the pair of you strode across the marble floor. “How is this happening?” You added, feeling quite small as the target of not one, but two predatory gazes.

Todoroki took his time to answer you, wordlessly twirling you in his arms as the music then came to a stop, a new melody beginning just as the previous one faded out. “Whatever we want, I suppose,” he answered, his gloved fingers traveling up your back to grasp your chin, forcing you to look into his chilling gaze. “But don’t worry, love… I don’t think you’re going to hate it all that much.”

— - — - — - — - — - — - — - —

It was only an hour later that you were being led to the other side of the mansion— away from the music and festivities, and away from the false sense of protection the crowd provided. Todoroki walked in front of you, and Shinsou’s hand rested casually on your hip as he walked beside you. Your palms were lined in a thin coating of sweat, your growing fear causing your pulse to skyrocket. You knew that you were about to understand why they had fooled you into coming here, and though you had pondered what terrible fate they had chosen for you for the past hour, your mind was completely blank. You could only watch as your feet moved one in front of the other, your body once again under their spell.

Whatever it was that they were doing, they somehow had complete control over you, and they had forced your body to dance with the both of them for the entire time you’d been there so far. It had created some fake relief as whatever it was they had planned was pushed off for the time being, but you couldn’t indulge such relief, and your nerves were more heightened than ever. You reached your breaking point when you entered a dimly-lit bedroom, and the door closed behind you, lock clicking into place.

“Please,” you pleaded, your body moving to stand in the middle of the room, right before the four-poster, canopy-laden bed. “Just tell me what’s happening, I can’t move a single muscle…”

Shinsou frowned, gloved hand coming up to discard his mask. Your breath caught in your throat— God, even if he was your captor, you couldn’t deny he was handsome. He slowly approached you, fingertips tracing along your jaw before removing your mask as well. He sucked in a small breath of air, violet eyes dark with a foreign sentiment. “Relax, baby… We’re just gonna make you feel good. We’ve wanted to make you feel good for so long now…” His eyes dropped to analyze your lips, entranced by their color and plushness.

“But… Why can’t I move?” you reiterated, and your eyes widened as Todoroki’s presence noticeably pressed up against your behind. The feeling of his body against yours sent your heart hammering, and you swallowed as you considered your options here— there was really only one means of escape and that had to start with you tricking them into freeing you from their spell. Licking your dry lips, you meekly added, “What if I… wanted to make you feel good, too?”

“Fucking Christ,” said Shinsou, who took a step backward, his palm coming to run across his face momentarily. He seemed on edge, anticipation distinctly painted across his rugged features.

Meanwhile Todoroki took his time to answer, considering your choice of words thoughtfully. “We have a lot planned for you… but we need to re-energize before we can do anything, love,” he replied simply, his voice low in your ear. He pulled off his gloves, cold fingers catching on your jaw as he turned your face to meet his. You whimpered as he leaned into you, and before you could make a single word, his lips claimed yours, cutting off any chance at a rebuttal.

You didn’t want to admit how good his mouth felt on yours, but you couldn’t ignore the butterflies that burst into your stomach as he kissed you— they were not the result of any foreign spell. Shinsou groaned as he watched Todoroki’s tongue slip into your mouth, actions getting more fervent as the dual-colored man’s fingers slipped around your head, cradling your face against his. His lips attacked yours, slotting against them and tongue wandering between the gaps. You gasped when something sharp pricked your bottom lip, automatically pulling back, your hand coming up to touch your lip.

Bright red stained your fingertip, and you looked between the evidence of your injury and the cause of the wound, eyes widening as you took in how dark Todoroki’s eyes had become, canines elongating into sharp fangs. Bewildered, you stayed frozen to the spot, unable to do anything yet again as his hand swiftly wrapped around your wrist, yanking your hand to his mouth and wrapping his lips around your finger. The feeling of his tongue swirling around the digit made heat flare in your core, even as terror began to pump through your veins. His other hand gripped your hip roughly, pulling your body flush unto his.

The desire to scream out in fear came quickly, but you found no sound came out of you when your mouth opened. Your head still turned to Todoroki, you didn’t anticipate Shinsou coming up in front of you, only noticing the other man when his tongue stroked across the tender skin on your neck. Your body stiffened as the wet muscle slid along your throat, your eyes wide and petrified.

“There you go, just relax...” Todoroki groaned, leaning in to suck on your broken lip, his tongue petting over the fresh wound gently. It stung, but at the same time it felt very intimate— something you had never done before that had that heat building in the pit of your stomach.

A set of fangs pricked your neck, Shinsou’s lips fluttering up toward your jaw. You loathed how soft they felt, a distinct contrast to the sharpened enamels that suddenly descended into your flesh. You cried out, unprepared for the searing pain that shot through your body. Your skin felt like it was throbbing, sizzling from the unwelcome heat and pain mixing together.

“Shhh, love,” Todoroki cooed, laying a gentle kiss on your open mouth. “It won’t hurt for long…” He continued to suckle on your lip, beautiful eyes staring deeply into yours as he cradled your face. The thin ring of iris around his blown pupils shone brightly in the low light of the flickering candles, brilliant aqua and stormy gray contrasting, mesmerizing you and momentarily taking you away from the pain of the fangs lodged in your throat.

Shinsou was moaning against your neck, Adam’s apple bobbing as he took his fill from your bloodstream. His hands were gripping your waist tightly, fingers wandering up your back to curl your body closer to his embrace. You were so out of it, so lost in the taller man’s gaze, that you almost didn’t register the growing hardness pressing into your inner thigh. Shinsou was gently rutting against your leg, pressing his crotch onto you as he held your limp body with surprising care.

The sharp pain of his fangs in your neck had transformed into a dull throb, your body slowly numbing to his bite. It wasn’t long before Shinsou drew back, tongue roving over the flesh puncture marks that laid on your throat. His tongue hurt at first, but the second and third swipe of the strong, wet muscle felt increasingly good, and you hated how your thighs twitched together at the feeling. Apparently the two of them knew you would be experiencing this effect, for they both started to move you backwards, wandering closer to the bed.

You could hear Todoroki get onto the mattress before the pair of them maneuvered your body to join his, lifting you up and setting you down onto the plush comforter before him. His hands slid to your front, down your stomach and perched on your hips, pushing them back so your ass met his crotch. Your eyes went wide as you felt Todoroki’s erection poke into your ass, and Shinsou chuckled darkly as he, too, crawled onto the bed.

Although you opened your mouth to speak, no words came out, and the purple-haired vampire before you winked as the smirk on his lips only grew. There was still a trickle of your blood tainting the skin on his chin, and his fangs poked out as he grinned at you.

“You missed some,” Todoroki stated, voice a bit rougher than it had been downstairs. Your head turned to look at him, but you found his gaze was not focused on you— he was looking straight at Shinsou, eyes darkening and teeth elongating into points.

“Saved it for you, have a taste,” Shinsou replied nonchalantly, scooting closer to you. The space between the two men’s mouths closed and you gasped as you watched their lips collide, a moan tumbling out of the man supporting your back. That horrible heat burst between your legs, your mouth watering as you saw Todoroki’s tongue slips into Shinsou’s mouth, their fangs clicking as they brushed together.

Shinsou chuckled as he pulled back, Todoroki’s tongue wandering down to trace the line of your blood that streaked down his chin. Shinsou looked at you as he grinned, clearly happy that their kiss had such an effect on you. “You taste so good, baby,” he complimented, and you whimpered as heat burst in your cheeks.

It was shameful how much this was turning you on— a monster straight out of a fairytale was here in front of you, feeding off of you, able to end your life he re really wanted to in probably just one swift bite— and yet your pussy was drooling all over your panties for him, an uncomfortable dampness collecting between your thighs. You couldn’t stop your hips from wiggling, but as you moved back from Shinsou, you pressed up against Todoroki, who let out a throaty groan. The swell of your backside pushed against his hard cock just right, and you gasped as his hands suddenly jumped to the hem of your dress, pulling it to rest at the tops of your thighs. Your pussy twitched as the cool air rushed across your sticky panties, and you mewled as one hand drifted up to squeeze your breast, the other slapping gently over your panty-covered clit.

Shinsou’s hands glided down your waist, large palms running over your hips before he grabbed your thighs, yanking you to the edge of the mattress as he fell to his knees. Kneeling between your legs, he chucked again as he inspected the wet patch on darkening the front of your underwear. His thumb met your slit and he traced it up and down a few times, grin splitting his smirk as you unintentionally let out a moan.

It was then that Todoroki’s fangs sliced into the unmarked flesh on the other side of your neck. You cried out, the pain just as stringing and intense as Shinsou’s bite had delivered. But you weren’t left to focus on it long— Shinsou pulled your underwear to the side and dipped a thumb into your soaking folds, rubbing up the length of your slit once again. The direct contact made your toes curl, your slick folds parting with ease as the ample evidence of your arousal allowed his finger to glide through without catch. He hummed as he rubbed his thumb against your clit a few times, violet eyes flicking up to see your eyelashes fluttering across your cheeks, Todoroki’s lips latched to your throat as he took his fill from your sweet bloodstream.

Todoroki’s fingers curled into the top of your dress, and he pulled it down to reveal your tits to the cool air, your nipples instantly perking up and standing at attention. The red and white haired man moaned as he sucked on your throat, his forefinger and thumbs capturing each nipple and twisting the sensitive buds.

“Fuck!” you whined, immediately embarrassed that you hadn’t been able to hold the expletive in. But neither of the men seemed to share your sentiment, the pair of them moaning softly in response to your noise of pleasure as if encouraging you to let out even more.

Shinsou smiled as he pinched the sides of your panties, yanking the material down your thighs and off your ankles before separating your legs and inserting himself between them. He gave you no warning as his tongue suddenly licked a flat stripe up your slit, rolling around your clit perfectly at the end of his journey. Your legs tensed as they closed around his head, a hot puff of air escaping you as Todoroki finally pulled off of your neck with a broken gasp. His breathing was ragged as his tongue lashed over the fresh marks, the repeated action having the same, dizzying sensation that Shinsou had elicited. Then Shinsou’s tongue was wiggling across your clit, alternating between sucking on the sensitive pearl and lavishing it in vicious swipes of his strong, wet tongue.

Meanwhile Todoroki was ripping off his clothes, revealing his broad, sturdy chest in all its glory before he yanked at the zipper on your spine, sliding your dress over your shoulders and tossing it onto the floor. Your bra was next, leaving you in just your sparkly heels and your glimmering gems.

You could feel both pairs of eyes inspecting your naked body, Todorki’s hands returning to tweak at your nipples while Shinsou thrusted his tongue inside your quivering hole. He moaned as his tongue probed at your insides, sending vibrations through your core and causing your legs to tighten around his head. Pleasure was coursing through you, overwhelming the urge to scream and run that had been all you could focus on just minutes ago. But your pussy was dripping for the both of them, and Shinsou was savoring every drop as he animatedly lapped at you— never before had anyone so enthusiastically eaten your cunt like this, and his zeal only made you leak onto his mouth even more.

You had been so focused on the man in between your legs that you only recognized Todoroki had fully unclothed himself when he moved backward, easing your head back so you lay flat on the mattress. Your pussy twitched violently on Shinsou’s tongue when you caught sight of Todoroki’s cock standing long and thick, tall against his carved abdomen, his expression dark as he shuffled forward.

“Open your mouth, baby,” he instructed and you obeyed immediately, as if you couldn’t follow his instruction any faster. Your eagerness made him smirk, and you made sure to keep eye contact as he rubbed the tip of his heavy cock against your sealed lips. But suddenly Shinsou started to attack your clit with new fervor, tongue flicking across the bundle of nerves repeatedly.

You couldn’t stop the moan that flew out of you, and as soon as your mouth was open, Todoroki pushed forward, shoving his cock deep into your mouth. You choked at the sudden intrusion, but he only grabbed your throat with one hand and thrust into your mouth even rougher than before. He didn’t seem to care much about your comfort, your heartbeat skyrocketing as the need for oxygen started burning in your lungs.

Todoroki pulled his cock out just in time for you to gasp in a few breaths before he rammed his cock back inside, powerful thighs pinning your head to the mattress as he leaned forward with hands on either side of your waist and head hung while he uttered a quiet moan. “That’s right, love. Go ahead and suck my cock… I want to hear you choke on me, naughty little thing.”

A wanton moan slipped out of you, his cock filling your throat to the max, and his rough, determined thrusts causing your pussy to flood even more. Shinsou was still licking at your cunt purposefully, tongue sliding around your folds and over your clit as he sucked and flicked it to your liking. You started to become more vocal as pressure began to build in your stomach, your hips writhing wildly underneath his pinning grip as Todoroki used your mouth to his liking. Your eyes rolled back as you felt your high approaching, unaware of Shinsou slowly but steadily undressing himself while he suckled at your puffy folds.

Todoroki’s thrusts became slower but deeper suddenly, and you swirled your tongue around his swollen tip when his hips receded. You were caught off guard when Shinsou’s lips left your cunt and instead his teeth sunk into the soft skin on your thigh, taking another sampling from your veins. This time, the initial pain was much duller, and it quickly faded into something concerningly pleasurable. There must have been some higher-level effect at play here— there was no way that such gleaming fangs stabbing into you and feeding from you should feel that good. Yet it undoubtedly made your toes curl, bliss spreading through your body like wildfire through dry grass. It only increased when a long finger slipped inside of you, a second entering with ease as they began rubbing inside of you gently. You could feel Shinsou moan into your pillowy thigh, the noise only making your cunt itch for his attention again.

You let out a desolate whine when both of the men suddenly pulled away from you, your pussy hotter and wetter than ever, and your cheeks dribbling with your saliva as a result of Todoroki’s face-fucking. It was then that you realized Shinsou was naked, too, your mouth watering at his visage; his cock stood thicker and shorter than Todoroki’s, but both of them were punching well above average, muc to your delight.

Todoroki slipped off the mattress and Shinsou walked around the edge of the bed, the pair switching and settling in reverse positions. Shinsou stroked your cheek sweetly, capturing your attention as he smiled down at you. You craned your neck to press a kiss to the leaking tip of him, your tongue poking out to swipe the salty bead of pre-cum that lay there. Your eyes went wide when you felt the telltale smoothness of Todoroki’s cock splitting your slick-drenched folds, his hands settling on your hips before he grabbed them, rutting his own forward and causing his cock to push halfway into your tight hole. The stretch made the both of you gasp, your wet, little hole hugging his large cock snug as he began to move his hips.

Shinsou had enjoyed the intimate moment but found himself getting impatient, slapping his thick, oozing cockhead over your lips to grab your attention once again. You looked up at him with wide, starry eyes, your mouth opening for him to glide his cock into your mouth. “Good girl,” he murmured, eyes fixating on the way your lips wrapped around his girth, the way his thick veins looked rolling against your tongue. Your cheeks hollowed in attempt to satiate him, but you instantly cried out when Todoroki’s hips slapped flush against yours, shoving his cock inside of your cunt entirely.

The impossible fullness that bloomed in your stomach was delectable, and Todoroki began to thrust into your slippery cunt at a reliable, hard pace. He let out a guttural groan as he watched his cock disappear into your slick folds, the heat of your pussy overwhelming him. He lifted both your legs over his shoulders, making sure to grab one of your ankles and pulling it upright so your leg was fully extended. Then, his fangs broke the smooth skin on your calf and you whimpered at the feeling. It felt so good to have him suck on your skin— to feel your blood flowing out of your body and into his eager mouth. It was sick, but you couldn’t think about it at the moment— couldn’t find any fault with the two monsters that were taking you to cloud nine.

“Fuck, just like that,” Shinsou mumbled, eyes flicking up to watch a rivulet of your blood strike down your outstretched leg. When he looked back down towards you, your eyes were closed and your brow scrunched, an indication of the pleasure that was ebbing through your body thanks to the cadenced swing of Todoroki’s hips. “You’re such a good fucking girl,” Shinsou praised as he threw back his head, his fingers carding through your hair and tugging gently at your roots.

Just as the three of you seemed to find a rhythm, Todoroki pulled out abruptly, making your mouth part in a whine, Shinsou’s thick member springing out of your wet cavern and into the cool, still air. The purple-haired man hissed in annoyance, gritting his teeth as he looked to the other man to scold him, but quickly his irritation melted as he watched Todoroki flip you so your stomach lay flat on the sheets. Then, he hiked your ass into the air, your body moving along with him with such cooperation that the pair of them shared a look, haughty smirks stretching on both their lips. It was their secret that they had stopped using their mind control on you, and it seemed you were the only one that continued, blissfully unaware. Perhaps you didn’t even realize… perhaps you didn’t care.

It didn’t matter, really— Todoroki lined himself up with your dripping cunt, taking no pause this time as his cock speared inside you once again. You moaned as you reeled forward, your fingers gripping into the duvet harshly as your body tightened up from the delicious intrusion. His long, thick cock felt like magic inside of you, each thrust brushing a soft spot nestled deep inside of you and stimulating you further.

Shinsou jerked himself off lazily as he watched your facial expressions, trapping his bottom lip between his sharp teeth as he registered the erotic ecstasy painted across your beautiful features. After a minute of allowing you to focus his accomplice’s hard cock, he pressed the tip of his own to your lips. You immediately opened your mouth, taking the flushed member between your lips with restless reception, tongue rolling around the swollen head. Shinsou sighed, half-lidded lavender irises watching you begin to eagerly bob up and down his length. He thumbed over a drop of blood that had rolled down your throat, catching Todoroki’s eye and offering his finger to the other man, who happily took the digit into his mouth and sucked, tongue soaking up your life essence as his hand wrapped around Shinsou’s wrist to steady himself. They both chuckled as you moaned loudly, Todoroki’s free hand clapping across your ass cheek and causing your cunt to clench down on his cock.

“You like that?” he teased, grabbing your flesh and shaking it, watching your ass jiggle before striking you again, a few smacks in succession. You could only gag and moan in reply, Shinsou’s cock thrusting into the back of your throat. The purple-eyed vampire gripped your chin with his calloused, cold hand, keeping your head in place as he began to fuck your face. Suddenly Todoroki spat onto your behind, his saliva wetting your puckered hole before he shoved his thumb inside of your ass, the unexpected stretch sending fresh bliss through your body as his cock dragged against it through your walls. Tears were beading on your lashes, the combination of the lack of oxygen, the attack of your g-spot from Todoroki’s cock, and the sharp pain of his hand across your ass all sending you hurtling towards your high.

With a shriek you came on his cock, your cunt wringing snug around the heavy member that just kept pistoning into you, angling your hips so the head pounding into that sensitive, spongy spot again and again. Todoroki groaned, taking his finger out and both his hands now squeezing at your hips as he continued to fuck you, offering a few more slaps to your ass as you trembled in ecstasy. While your head was still filled with the euphoric fog of your climax, Shinsou pulled out of your mouth, nodding to Todoroki, who wordlessly understood. The mismatched vampire hooked his arms around your knees, heaving you up against his chest and spreading your legs far apart enough for Shinsou to slide between them.

You were still catching your breath as Shinsou reached for Todoroki’s cock, slotting his thighs between the other man’s and positioning his length so that his slick-covered head rested right at your asshole. You gasped, your arm bending to dig your nails into Todoroki’s shoulder as you looked behind at him, catching his lustful gaze down at you. Shinsou then began to sloppily kiss your throat, his cock rubbing against your glazed, ravaged opening as his hands ran across the curve of your ass, landing on Todoroki’s waist behind your hips. The both of them entered you at the same time, your vision dotting with white spots as the stretch from both sides took your breath away. They both managed to slip inside, fully seating you onto their laps as you trembled, your stiff nipples brushing against Shinsou’s toned chest.

Todoroki nibbled at your ear as he began to pump his cock inside of you, filling your ass with each thrust and stimulating you as he rubbed himself against Shinsou’s cock through your walls. “So tight, love…,” he murmured in your ear, the prick of his sharp fangs on your cartilage sending shivers down your spine. His tongue wandered out and he traced the tip of it against the column of your throat, brushing over the leaking puncture wounds that laid there. “So sweet… can’t help myself,” his words turned into a savage moan as he sunk his fangs into your skin, the pain washing away abruptly as Shinsou, too, started to push his hips into yours.

Shinsou groaned, one hand coming to caress your chin as he claimed your lips with his own. His tongue entered your mouth and wrestled with yours as his tempo began to pick up, his cock stretching your cunt wide and sending waves of pleasure through your core. When he pulled back, you were both panting, your breasts heaving with the rapid rise and fall of your chest. It was then that Todoroki pulled away from your neck, gasping in a breath of air as his fangs glistened scarlet. Shinsou took one look at him and crushed his mouth to his, your holes clenching around their lengths as you watched your blood be exchanged between their ravenous tongues. The pair of them were moaning, and so were you— unable to keep the noises of pure pleasure inside as you watched them make out.

Your blood was dripping down Todoroki’s chin, and you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching over and grabbing his jaw, ripping his lips away from Shinsou’s and instead placing your mouth on his. He growled in approval against your lips, his tongue battling yours as he sought to dominate you, the distinct flavor of iron filling your mouth as you tasted your own blood. Shinsou took the opportunity to sink his cuspids into the other side of your throat again, and your jaw fell in response, Todoroki’s tongue seizing control of yours immediately as he grasped the upper hand. Both of them were full-on fucking you now, your holes warm and wet, quivering around their thick cocks as the brought you closer and closer to your high yet again.

Only the sound of your heavy breathing and the slapping of your skins filled the air in the room, the music of the party drowned and far away as the three of you were otherwise occupied. Before you knew it, you were clenching on them again, your body seizing as your orgasm ripped through you, all the air in your lungs vacuumed out of you and your toes curling into the air. Your fingers fisted Shinsou’s wild violet locks, your nails digging into Todoroki’s jaw as you tumbled through the throes of your climax, euphoria rushing through your bloodstream and straight into Shinsou’s awaiting mouth.

The sweet taste of your oxytocin, your drug-like ecstasy, sent him straight into his own orgasm, his hips pushing flush against yours as he roared and his cock spurted thick white ribbons deep into your womb, his seed pouring into you and filling you to the brim. His chiseled body trembled as he emptied himself inside of you, his fingers bruising your skin while he gasped and moaned. Your holes clenched as you milked his cock, and suddenly Todoroki, too, groaned loudly behind you. His hands squeezed your flesh as his cock spurted hot cum inside of you, his abdomen flush against your ass as he crushed your body to his front.

The three of you sat there on the bed, your bodies covered in sweat and remnants of your blood, breathless and still as you came back down to earth. Shinsou’s lips trailed along your neck, Todoroki’s fingertips sliding across your skin with gentle care as they pulled out of you. Their seed dribbled down your thighs as they maneuvered your boneless body back onto the pillows, your eyes fluttering closed from the pure exhaustion and the lack of blood in your veins. Each of them laid back on either side of you, their cold hands wandering over your skin and causing goosebumps to rise, their eyes roaming your body in pure adoration.

“You did so well, baby,” Shinsou murmured into your hair, pressing his face close to yours as he sighed and inhaled the sweet scent lingering from the blood on your skin.

“So well-behaved for us,” Todoroki added, wrapping an arm around your middle as he, too, nestled closer to your limp body. “Go to sleep, love… you deserve some rest.”

You hummed at their praise, tired butterflies flapping their wings in the pit of your stomach. Your head was fuzzier than ever, bliss weighing heavy in your bones as your breathing steadied. Filled with post-orgasmic content, the idea of fleeing that seemed so wonderful just an hour ago now sounded distasteful, your body comfortable lying on the silken sheets, pressed between your two lovers. As you faded into a blissful sleep, you could hear the pair talking lowly, making plans to keep you here with them in hushed voices.

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

so sorry if that was rushed at the end!! hope you enjoyed, and Happy Halloween!! be safe out there <3

➥ masterlist

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟎. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭�� 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

#todoroki shouto smut #todoroki shoto smut #shinsou hitoshi smut #shinso hitoshi smut #todoroki shouto fic #todoroki shoto fic #shinsou hitoshi fic #shinso hitoshi fic #shinso x reader #shinsou x reader #todoroki x reader #shouto x reader #bnha smut #mha smut #tw: dubcon #tw: yandere #my fics

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crowfootwrites · 4 years ago

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The Boyfriend | Part II [Taza Romero x Fem!Reader]

Y'all! I did it! I wrote a second part! I actually sort of struggled with the setup of this, but once I started writing the angry, angsty shit I was like, "OH, WE IN BUSINESS." So, please enjoy.

Warnings: language; family drama (arguing); attempted physical violence; pregnancy | Words: 1,734

Part I of The Boyfriend

“What do you mean he wants to come see your motorcycle?” you asked, panic rising in your voice. It had been a few months since the ill-fated family dinner, and aside from a few texts asking about work, you hadn’t heard from your father. So, you assumed his motorcycle chat with Taza had just been polite conversation.

Taza glanced at you across the kitchen table, his full fork of frijoles pausing halfway to his mouth. His eyes softened when he saw the concern in your expression.

“Relájate, mi amor (Relax, my love). He doesn’t have to come here. I can meet him somewhere else,” he said calmly. He watched as your head dropped into one of your palms on the table and the other rested on the top of your very noticeable baby bump. He paused, then put his fork back down on his plate.

“(Y/N), maybe this would be a good opportunity to tell them,” he started, keeping his tone gentle. “I know you don’t want them involved. I understand that, and I will do whatever I can to keep things the way you want them.” He reached across the table to rest his palm against your knuckles. “But the baby will be here in a few months, and hiding it from them is just drawing out the inevitable.”

Emotions rushed over you. You knew that telling them didn’t have to mean anything more than that; Taza would protect his family no matter the cost, and if you didn’t want them involved, they wouldn’t be. But the prospect of having to deal with your mother filled you with a deep-seated dread. You knew she wouldn’t approve. And you didn’t need her approval, but your relationship with her had always been messy and complicated. And some part of you still wanted her to accept and respect you. Angry tears sprang to your eyes, which made you even more frustrated – the pregnancy hormones made you feel like you were losing your mind.

A tear dripped onto the wooden surface of the table and Taza was immediately out of his seat, tugging you out of yours and wrapping you in his arms. He smiled at the feeling of your belly pressed between the two of you.

“Hey, abejita, está bien (little bee, it’s ok). We don’t have to do anything that will make you uncomfortable,” he murmured against your ear, rocking you side to side slowly. He rubbed circles on your back as you regained your composure.

“No, you’re right,” you said with a sniffle. “We need to get this over with.”

Taza’s lips pulled into a wry grin. “That’s a wise choice, I think.”

***

“Ok, I think everything’s pretty much ready,” you told Taza as you flipped the final tortilla on the comal. He came to stand beside you and pressed a soft kiss to your temple.

“How can I help?” he asked as you pulled the tortilla off with your bare fingers and tossed it into the basket, waving your fingers as the heat sank into your skin. He laughed and gripped your hand, blowing gently on your scorched fingertips.

You couldn’t help the affectionate tears that collected in the corners of your eyes. In an effort to keep you as comfortable as possible, Taza suggested hosting dinner with your parents on the ranch. You would be on your own turf and could call the shots. If anything got ugly, Taza promised that he had no qualms with making your parents leave. To your modest relief, you also felt a little more like yourself today, like you’d happily tell someone where to shove it if they upset you.

“Just being here with me helps,” you mumbled, tucking yourself into his arms.

“Nowhere else I’d rather be,” he said quietly. The two of you lingered like that for a moment, enjoying the calm embrace before the storm you knew was about to happen.

And sure enough, a moment later, the doorbell sounded. Your eyes jerked immediately to Taza’s. You struggled to discern if the rolling in your stomach was pregnancy-related or anxiety-induced as perspiration collected on your palms.

He ushered you onto the back patio, helping you to sit in the worn wooden rocking chair before heading back inside to welcome your guests. You listened nervously for the creaking of the front door, which was quickly followed by the drifting voices of your mother and father.

You pulled yourself out of the chair, straightening the soft cotton of your dress over your bump, just as Taza stepped through the door. He came immediately to your side, schooling his features into a calm and neutral mask, tossing an arm around your shoulders. Your father was the next through the door and you bit back a grin at the series of emotions that passed over his face in the span of just a few seconds. Confusion, certainly, and shock, but then pride and excitement and finally, unbridled joy.

Time seemed to slow down as your mother stepped towards your father, her confused gaze traveling from your father’s face to you, eyes widening as they landed on your belly. For the first time in your life, your mother was speechless. She stood on the threshold of the patio door with her mouth open as your father rushed towards you.

“Oh, my baby girl!” he exclaimed, pulling you into a loose hug around your bump, kissing your cheeks delightedly. He turned immediately to Taza, pulling your boyfriend into a strong embrace, clapping him heartily on the back.

“Congratulations, you two! This is wonderful news! Oh, goodness, I’m going to be a grandfather!” he announced in wonderment as he pulled back, turning to his wife, whose eyes were still glued to your stomach.

“Dear?” he asked her, cautiously, but with a hint of something firm in his voice. It was something you had never heard from your father before. You wondered fleetingly what that was about.

His voice seemed to snap her out of her trance. Her eyes met yours and she smiled tightly. “Congratulations,” she forced out and you noted acrimoniously the clenching of her jaw.

Your eyes narrowed. Your heart sank with her false smile and immediately, resentment scrambled into place to protect you. You suddenly felt an overwhelming desire to haul off and smack her, but you quickly chalked that up to hormones. Probably.

Intent on making this a pleasant evening for your completely delighted father, you turned away from your mother with a withering look and plastered on a smile, motioning for everyone to take a seat at the table laden with food you had spent most of the day preparing.

Dinner was an awkward affair. Taza sat beside you, his hand never leaving its reassuring place on your thigh, as the two of you answered your father’s abundance of questions.

Baby Romero is due in November.

We’ve decided to wait to find out the sex.

We don’t really have a preference as long as they’re healthy.

Your mother��s eyes bore holes into you, but she remained silent, except for one question, manifested tersely into the space between the four of you. “Are you going to get married?”

“We haven’t really talked about it,” you replied, surprising even yourself with the strength in your voice. Your mother blinked at you, her expression disappointed, but she said nothing, returning her gaze to her plate.

When everyone had finished eating, your father clapped his hands together and asked Taza if they could take a peek at his Harley.

Taza turned to you, searching your eyes. “¿Estarás bien a solas con ella (Will you be ok alone with her)?”

You nodded at him with a wily smile. “Yo sé dónde están todos los cuchillos en esta casa (I know where all the knives are in this house).”

A loud, deep laugh belted from Taza’s chest as you stood and began collecting plates. You could see him shaking his head out of the corner of his eyes, motioning your father towards the garage.

You were standing in front of the sink, rinsing dishes when you heard the clicking of heels behind you, your mother coming to stop across the counter. You waited with bated breath for the inevitable confrontation, your stomach in knots.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked finally, a bitter edge of hurt creeping into her voice.

You looked down into the sink, realizing you were white-knuckling a spoon. “Why would I?” you demanded. “The last time I saw you, you made it very clear that you don’t approve of Che.”

“I just want what’s best for you!” she insisted, her hands clenching by her sides.

“You don’t know what’s best for me! I’m not you!” You slapped the faucet off and grabbed a kitchen towel to violently dry your hands, coming to face your mother completely. You watched as her eyes flickered quickly to your belly and then back to your face, the sight seemingly fueling her fire.

“I do know that you have no business having children out of wedlock with a man who’s twice your age,” she snapped, stepping closer to you, and your body reacted to the perceived threat, your heart thundering against your ribcage, heat radiating from your face.

“You don’t get to make those decisions for me! Che is the best partner I’ve ever had and he’s going to be an incredible father. Which you would know if you even gave him a chance, but you won’t. You refuse to accept that this is my life, and I’ll live it however the fuck I want!” You could hear your volume rising, but you were beyond controlling it. By the end of your rant, you were screaming, inches from your mother’s furious face, her eyes glinting and her lips set into a scowl. Suddenly, Taza was running into the house and coming to a stop behind you, pulling you gently away from your mother while your father tugged your mother away from you.

“I can’t believe I raised such an ungrateful bitch,” your mother spat, and you swung. Luckily for your mother, Taza had pulled you out of reach, and your fist missed her by several inches.

“Get out of my house!” you hissed, struggling against Taza’s arms, angry tears staining your cheeks.

Your father, looking appropriately mortified, dragged your mother out of the front door and into their car.

Part III of The Boyfriend

#mayans fx #mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans imagine #mayans fanfic #mayans x reader #taza romero #taza romero x reader #taza romero imagine #che taza romero #mayans oneshot

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angstsfordays · 4 years ago

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Beautiful Pain (5)

Chapter Five- Think About Us

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced! Reader

Summary: Post-Blip, you started to feel lost when most of the Avengers team are gone. Coping with your loss, you still find hope in the connection with your remaining friends. However, it is not easy as everyone is trying to figure their lives after the Blip.

Having a long history with Bucky ever since you both saved each other from Hydra, you were still glad you had Bucky after all this time. However, as you try to give Bucky space to find himself after being pardoned for his past, you start to wonder if you should ever cross the line of friendship before it’s too late.

That thought might have to be put on hold though, when you, Sam and Bucky find yourselves having to deal with threats that continue to rise in a post-Blip world.

Chapter synopsis: Feeling lucky to have met Sharon in Madripoor, she could be your lead to find out the origins of the new super serums. Meanwhile, your one-sided love for Bucky might turn out otherwise.

Warnings: Awkward run-ins. Sexual tension, perhaps? A slow slow burn. Violence. A few bad words.

Word count: 4.3k

Notes: Hi everyone! Ever since I started this series, I gained a great number of followers and I am so thankful for everyone who did so! I am really glad you have been enjoying this series so far! 😆

Please let me know what you think of the story, I really appreciate it! 😘

The tag list is still open! Let me know if you want to join with a message or comment in the chapters!

Previous: Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four

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Sharon brought you back to her place and you were amazed at how high end it was. The residential place had armed security and as you entered the building, you realised that there was a gallery within it filled with stolen original artworks.

Sharon explained how she had to chose to make the most of her new life. Even she was a fugitive of the states, she made sure she put her skills to use so that she could enjoy a comfortable life.

You were in awe at her resilience. Sam in an innocent moment, couldn’t believe that all the artworks in Sharon’s gallery were the real deal and Bucky informed that the museums were all holding fakes.

Letting you know that she’s hosting clients in an hour, she ushered all of you to go get changed. Sharon told you to choose anything from her personal wardrobe and offered you to use the bathroom.

Giving your thanks, she left you to your own. You immediately took off your heels and pulled the strings that held your dress together. Taking advantage of her bathroom products, you wiped off your makeup and allowed yourself a refreshing quick shower.

Once the last bit of bubbles was washed off your body, you towelled yourself off and put on a fresh set of underwear. As you were about to reach for the hairdryer, you suddenly heard the jolt of the door and you turned to see Bucky entering the same bathroom.

It was a brief second of exchange before you turned your back on him while he exited and close the door behind him.

“Oh shoot, sorry- I didn’t know-” Bucky stuttered as he struggled to find the right words. You felt your cheeks turning hot but tried to stay cool.

“It’s okay, don’t need to worry.” As you were met with silence, you couldn’t help but wince at the awkward moment and hoped to make it go away.

“Are you urgent?” You added on to see if he would respond. His next words brought you relief as you thought he would have just walked off without notice.

“Oh no, it’s fine. I can wait.” You thought that you didn’t want to make him wait and quickly rushed to wear the oversized white blouse and light flared denim that Sharon passed to you.

You quickly proceeded to open the door to find Bucky standing awkwardly with his hands behind and his head looking down on the floor. You saw he had picked out a black ensemble- a black blazer, black shirt, black pants and black shoes.

He looked so good you wanted to melt into a puddle.

When he heard the doors opened, he immediately raised his head to meet your eyes. You tried to give a reassuring smile to ease the atmosphere and told him that he could use the bathroom first. You could dry your hair later.

“I swear I didn’t see anything, I mean I did for a second but that was it.” Bucky tried to explain himself. He hated how he was suddenly being weird around you.

Maybe he was acting because this was the first time he has even remotely seen a woman like that after years of HYDRA’s brainwashing and being on the run. But then again, he had seen all those bikini pictures of women on dating apps and while it was bizarre to him, it didn’t faze him in the way it just did with you.

In all his years that Bucky had known you, that was probably the first time he has actually seen you in such an intimate image. What was up with tonight and why was he suddenly feeling so much about you?

“It’s fine, Buck! It’s not like you are a pervert or something.” Trying to crack a joke so that Bucky could relax, you saw the side of his mouth quirk up in agreement before he stepped into the bathroom.

-------------------------//---------------------------

You entered the room last seeing everyone was already gathering and talking. Greeted by the sight of Zemo pouring himself a drink and Sam putting on a shirt, your eyes moved to where Sharon joined Bucky on the couch.

You managed to catch the last bit of conversation where Sharon was shading Bucky in regard to the topic of John Walker. Sharon warned of potentially crossing paths with the power broker as you all wanted to find more leads on Nagel.

Sam tried to convince her to help and promised to clear her name. As she poured herself a drink, you could tell from Sharon’s expression that she was not buying it. Her walls were up after the last incident and she wasn’t sure if she could trust you all anymore.

Sam pressed on but Sharon refused to be pitied. He then made it a deal and she relented. Sharon mentioned how her clients were well-connected and she would see if she could get anything useful from the party.

Looking at you stand uncomfortably at the corner, she came up to you and squeezed your shoulder to comfort you.

“I’m sorry I didn’t keep in touch all this while. There’s no excuse.”

“It’s fine, you were dragged into it pretty much like I was.” Sam gave a surprising look at how Sharon was fine with your apology.

Noticing it, Sharon then explained that she had a softer spot for you since you were friends and you had stuck your neck out for her on several occasions during your S.H.I.E.L.D days.

She was willing to overlook it compared to her almost non-existent history with Sam.

“I’m surprised you kept your secret from me, I thought we were friends after all.” You knew she was referring to your powers. Nervously licking your lips, you responded.

“I’m sorry. It was Director Fury’s order.” The guilt seeped in.

“And you actually revealed it for the first time publicly for him?” Without mentioning his name, Bucky knew Sharon was referring to him. He looked over to see you giving a nervous and awkward smile. While curious to know what you would say, Bucky just looked somewhere else pretending to be unbothered.

“There’s a lot more to it, Sharon. I wish I could tell you more.”

“He’s really something, huh?” Sharon said before sipping her drink. You actually knew what to say but held back especially since Sam and Zemo were in the room.

More importantly, Bucky was there. Sensing your hesitance and noticing your fleeting glance over at Bucky, Sharon had a hunch but she was more than aware to not harp on it.

Giving an awkward laugh, you tucked a strand of loose hair behind your ear. You looked into her eyes in a quiet exchange and she returned you a brief smile before telling everyone to lay low and enjoy the party.

-------------------------//---------------------------

The music was bouncing off the speakers wildly and the flashing lights in the club caused to squint your eyes a bit. Sharon was already working while the rest of you figured how you would exactly blend in.

Zemo was already working his way onto the dance floor and you were flabbergasted at the mere sight of him starting to bust out some moves to the music. You could see Sam being approached by some people and beginning to make small talk.

Turning your head to find Bucky, you realised you had lost sight of him in the crowd. You weren’t exactly in a party mood seeing you’re all alone and opted to head to the bar.

Before taking another step, you heard someone calling for you.

“Hey.” Spinning your head to the source of the voice, you were met with the vision of a tall and handsome man with a boyish smile. You were taken aback by his request to dance and you thought you probably looked like an idiot turning your head to look for your help.

When you face the guy once more, he had an earnest look that was waiting for your answer. Giving him another quick glance up and down, you didn’t think of him to be a sleazy dude. He kind of looked alright but you were wondering that if he were to be in Madripoor, could he even be up to any good?

“You’re really beautiful and I just wanted to dance.” He added on in hopes that you would agree.

Seeing how you were taking a long time to respond, the man reached out to grab your hand and pulled you closer to him. He respectfully kept you at a distance and did not immediately press himself against you.

Blinking like a deer in headlights, you took a sharp intake as he spun you to press your back against his front and placed his hands on your waist. Leading you to dance, you could feel him swaying side to side and guiding you to follow the same. You weren’t sure where to even put your hands and started cracking your knuckles in nervousness.

You bit your lip as you thought about how you should get yourself out of this. The man seemed nice enough but you weren’t into him. You are an agent and someone with superpowers, you should be able to get out of this mess.

Waiting for the right timing to tell him that you didn’t want to continue this, a cold hand reached out to grab yours and firmly pull you out of the man’s grip on you. Your eyes met with a familiar chest and in the next moment, a warm hand rested on your back.

Titling your head up, piercing cerulean orbs met yours and you heaved a sigh of relief at the recognition of the owner with the beautiful eyes.

“Sorry I’m late, doll.” His voice was reverberating all the way from his chest. Your eyes shied away to meet his once more before you peered over your shoulder at the embarrassed man.

“Hey man, I didn’t know. She didn’t say anything.” The man raised his hands in surrender but Bucky was not pleased with his explanation.

“If she didn’t say anything, it is not consent.” Bucky shot back with a death stare. You swore Bucky could add staring onto his list of super abilities as it always seemed to make people tremble in fear, save for Sam.

When the man was gone, Bucky apologised before letting you go. Instant disappointment washed over you as you had secretly hoped to be held by him longer. Bucky cleared his throat and tried to look somewhere far as he didn’t know what to say next in this situation.

You were overwhelmed with emotions and thought that it was now or never.

“Do you wanna dance?” You looked up to see Bucky looking back at you with wide eyes. You instantly regretted ever asking the question and quickly turned yourself away before he could even say anything.

Bucky’s hand shot out to grab yours to stop you from moving and the two of you exchanged in a silent moment before he spoke.

“I don’t really know how to dance to this. Music was different back in the day. The dance is also uh- different-” You knew Bucky was referring to the exceedingly intimate dancing of people that were surrounding you.

It was the norm but you would never see yourself doing that. The only time where you would actually let loose and dance that provocatively was in good fun with your girlfriends or gathered a stroke of courage with hard liquor.

“We don’t need to follow them. We can dance by our own rules.” Hands reaching out to hold his, you moved them to the rhythm to allow him to feel the music. You then lift your right and his left hand in the air before you twirled yourself.

Bucky’s lips moved up into a brief smile as you led the dance with confidence. The two of you were in your own bubble, uncaring of your surroundings. Seeing Bucky loosened up a little more, you picked up the confidence to groove your hips to the music. Recognising the song, you sang it enthusiastically and lost yourself in the lyrics.

This was probably the first time you had the chance to visibly relax from the aftermath of the last fight and the grief of your loss. Bucky couldn’t hold back his grin when he saw how you looked so carefree. He knew that even though you looked cheerful most of the time, he could always sense a tinge of sadness behind those eyes.

The next song was familiar to you as it was a favourite of yours. It was a popular Latin pop song and it easily invites one to dance their heart out.

Wrapping your hands behind his neck, you motioned him to follow you in slightly swaying to the music. The song sang of two people who were attracted to each other and you couldn’t help but wished it was fitting for this context.

Believing that your attraction to Bucky was only one-sided, you took this chance to be able to ever have such intimacy with him. As you sang the song, you playfully made up such actions to the lyrics that came off flirtatious. You believed Bucky was playing along with you in the moment but that was where you thought wrong.

Listening to the lyrics of the song, Bucky’s ear turned red at what the song was about. Seeing how you were acting, he thought that you were just feeling out the song but Bucky felt otherwise. When the beat dropped, Bucky made a sudden move to pull closer by the waist.

Lowering his head nearer to yours, your breath hitched at the sudden turn of events. You didn’t think one dance with Bucky would turn out like this. One of your hands slid from the back of his to hold his jaw. Your thumb stroked his light beard and you realised your noses were almost brushing.

What was going on? Could Bucky also feel the same way or was he too caught up in the moment. Both of your hands slid down to smooth the lapels of his jacket before resting on his broad chest. Your eyes averted away due to the intensity of his brooding stare but Bucky took this chance to bring his hand to tilt your head back to face him straight on.

“Bucky-” Whispering his name to get his attention, you didn’t know the effect it had on him as his attention went to your lips tinted with a balm. Were your lips always this alluring? He suddenly really wanted a taste to find out.

Bucky slanted his head to an angle before lowering his lips. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes as you anticipated what was about to happen.

“Hey guys, Sharon got a lead!” Sam’s voice broke you out of your trance and you snapped your eyes open. Without looking at Bucky, you quickly turned to see Sam making his way through the crowd to find the two of you.

“Here!” You piped up before making quick steps to the man, leaving a bewildered and disappointed super-soldier behind. Sam pointed to you where Sharon was and when he turned back to see Bucky, he was confused as to why Bucky was staring at him like he wanted him dead.

-------------------------//---------------------------

Nagel’s hideout was speculated to be amongst the shipping containers. Sharon warned you that the longer you stayed in Madripoor, the lesser chances you had of leaving with the bounty on all of you.

She passed you in-ear comms before giving you the container number. Before she walked away, you stopped her in her tracks.

“Would you be alright? I could come with you instead.” You added that the three men should be good on their own but Sharon insisted that she would be fine on her own. She wished you good luck before leaving you all.

As the four of you entered the container, you weren’t sure if you were in the right place. Zemo managed to find the handle of the door and looked back at all of you.

Sam and Bucky readied themselves with guns while you nervously fidgeted with your hands. As Bucky walked up to you, he gave you a longing stare but you quickly averted your eyes away.

Your mind was still reeling from what happened at the club last night and you couldn’t believe that things went that far. Was it real or was it just a dream? You shook your head to snap you out of your thought as you refocus on the mission at hand.

Sam and Bucky both took the lead while you were pacing side by side with Zemo. You looked to see him with a sudden solemn expression as you continued to make your way forward.

As the music started playing from a speaker somewhere, the sight that greeted you showed that the inside of this container was refurbished to be some sort of lab.

Venturing inwards, you saw a man who you presumed to be Dr Nagel. Zemo turned off the record player and Sam called for the doctor.

The doctor though frightened, was still relatively calm at the sight of all four of you in his supposed hidden lab. Despite the intrusion, Dr Nagel was indifferent and asked for everyone to leave. While he made his way, his feet stopped at the sight of Bucky.

Sam suggested he better speak of what he knew about the super-soldier serums but Nagel seemed defiant. He even asked for a counter-proposal to make him talk.

That’s when you heard Sharon speaking in the comms about approaching company. Time was pressing and you were frustrated at the doctor’s refusal to speak. Bucky took the rougher approach and immediately went to sit Nagel down while pointing a gun directly at his head.

You sighed in exasperation when Sharon spoke in your comms once more to inform you that every bounty hunter in Madripoor had known of your location and was coming to get all of you.

Nagel feared Bucky the most, knowing what he was actually capable of all. He began to share how he worked for HYDRA then the CIA. He managed to get his hands on an American test subject with semi-stable traces of the super-soldier serum.

You closed your eyes wearily as you knew who he was referring to. Nagel then went on to talk about how he managed to recreate the serum after much hard work and referred to himself as a god.

His project was paused when he was snapped. However, when he came back, he sought refuge here in Madripoor. The power broker was very eager to fund his work. He had made exactly twenty vials of the serum but they were all stolen by Karli Morgenthau.

He remarked that Karli had contacted him to seek help for someone, Donya Madani who was diagnosed with tuberculosis. This was definitely a clue to help you all step in the right direction.

“Y/N L/N.” The sudden call of your name had you meet eyes with Nagel. You didn’t expect him to look at you with a leering smile that managed to creep you out. All the men were curious why he had suddenly called for you.

“I read your leaked files. You are the only one of your kind. Perhaps, the only one who managed to surface from the shadows.” Nagel’s words only served to confused everyone before he continued.

“I am a believer of Science, but when there has been little research, you can’t help to turn to stories. You are human yet you are not. How on earth are you able to gain superpowers without any experimentation done on you?” You realised this was why Director Fury had you hidden all this while cause he knew that people like Nagel would love to get his hands on you.

“It would be an honour for me to able to find out what courses through your veins and make you so powerful. Perhaps, if I am able to provide such privileges to those who were willing to pay for it, I will be unstoppable.”

Talking like a mad man, you shook your head in disbelief at what he was implying. The fact he wanted to treat you like a test subject for his personal science project. Bucky clutched the gun in his hands harder while you went forward to grab Nagel’s collars.

Your hands glowed brightly, threatening to burn Nagel. He was a crossed between looking fearful and fascinated at the same time.

“You bastard-”

“Guys, we’re seriously out of time here!” Sharon busted through the doors right at this moment. Your hands on Nagel slackened as you turned towards Sharon. Before you knew it, a gunshot was fired and Sam had Zemo backed up to the wall.

Nagel fell flat on the floor with a bullet lodged right at where his heart would be.

The breaking of windows came before the flames burst through the room. Everyone went to hide from the blast while you stretched your hands to use your powers to subdue it. While the impact was reduced, everyone still fell back on the floor from the shock.

Bucky who managed to recover faster went to help everyone up and you pulled them to their feet. All of you managed to make your way to the exit.

Even in the smoke, you could make out the shadows of the bounty hunters who were preparing a shootout. Bucky tried to lead but Sam already went ahead. You rolled your eyes at the fact that they couldn’t work together for once.

All three of your friends started to fight back with the onslaught of people after your lives. As you faced your palms out on standby, Sam reminded you to not use your powers.

“Do we look like we have the privilege to do that now?” You retorted before sending blasts consecutively to know each hunter down like a domino.

As you knocked out each person, you could hear arguing at the back from Sam and Bucky. You had it and you shot a huge blast that reminiscing of a torch blower before you sharply turn back at the two bickering children.

“For the love of god, if you two don’t stop this, I will burn your tongues off.” You said it like you mean it before the two men zipped shut.

A sudden burst of flames took your attention next and you hold up your hands to build a barrier to protect your friends. All of your attention was directed to Zemo appearing out of nowhere and taking out people easily.

You all decided to escape from your hiding spot and find somewhere safe. Your group were met with a couple more bounty hunters which Bucky easily took care of. All of you retreated to a container before Bucky burst out of the other end.

Zemo came and pulled up with a car with a cheeky smile. Was this man the same one from before?

Sam gave him shit for pulling the stunt on Nagel and claimed that he would send him back to jail. However, Bucky intervened and reasoned that you all still needed Zemo to find Karli. Getting into the car before Sam, you were surprised to hear Sharon wouldn’t be joining you. She held Sam to the promise of a pardon and you stretched your hands to squeeze hers affectionately.

“Take care.” You bided her farewell before she did the same.

-------------------------//---------------------------

“You, okay?” Bucky checked in with Sam as he finally took a breather after making a call. You sat beside Bucky as he cleaned out the dirt and blood from his vibranium arm.

There was a lot to process from what happened in Madripoor. Learning about what Sharon had to go through and how Nagel was a mad scientist who did not have respect for human beings.

“Are you okay?” Bucky turned to you next. He was worried for you when he saw how you were with Nagel. Your rage was clear as day when you heard how the doctor spoke of you like you were some work of scientific wonder to be poked and prodded.

He could only imagine how upsetting it was for you like how it unsettled him to have you being talked about in that manner. You gave his vibranium hand a light squeeze before leaning your head on his shoulder for comfort.

“I will be okay.” You sighed before closing your eyes to rest. Bucky held your hands and laid them on his leg as he saw you trying to relax from all the events that had happened earlier. He decided to let you have your peace.

You could hear your boys started talking properly for once without arguing about Steve’s shield. It seemed like everything had been a mess. Sam went on to say that he should have it destroyed while Bucky countered that the shield was important to many people including himself.

He vowed to make sure he takes it back from Walker cause it sure plain as hell that he was not suited to be your new Captain. Sam managed to find out who Donya Madani was and informed that she had passed away.

Feeling the other end of the seat sinking, you figure Zemo had taken that spot. He remarked that he had a place that you all could go in regard to Donya’s last location and requested a change of course.

Bucky looked down to see you already laying still, probably getting a quick shut-eye. Catching Sam’s glance down at your tangled hands, Bucky looked away to seem apathetic where in reality, his heart was racing wildly as he hears the soft breathing that soon came out of your lips.

-------------------------//---------------------------

Tag list: @tanyaherondale @spookycereal-s @cataves @archaeoheart @conflicted-noxsirius

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #tfatws #thefalconandthewintersoldier #bucky barnes fanfiction #angstsfordays #beautiful pain #marvel fanfiction

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fluffyfranny · 3 years ago

Text

So hey! Might as well start posting!

Starting off with an oldie in my past writing archives when I was at my peak in the Markiplier fandom. Still love his content dearly, but I don’t think I’ll write for his egos anytime soon.

Posting this with a lil motivation from @yaysof11037 who has become such a great mutual earlier on this week! (If ya haven’t checked out their works you totally should btw). In return for the lovely angst they provided for me, angst is what you shall receive in turn >:3

Hope y’all enjoy this piece I conjured WAY back in April :0

TW for descriptive gore, past and present character death and overall angst in general under the cut >:3

~Gone Too Soon~

Paranoia.

That was one of the primary emotions Eric felt all the time. The poor boy had been through a lot. He had lost a majority of his family, including his mother and the rest of his brothers, in a tragic accident, and he considered himself an “omen” of bad luck, of sorts, since things seemed to die around him.

Unfortunately, that was about to come true, once again.

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

It all started one brisk night, when Eric was having trouble sleeping for what seemed like the fifth time this week. He tossed and turned underneath the sheets, clutching his worn-down, yellow handkerchief with an iron grip in one of his fists. This lasted for about an hour.

The primary cause for this state of unrest, however, was not only his ever present state of anxiousness, but the fact that a nightmare unlike any he had ever dreamt was roiling through his mind.

He had dreamt that the rest of the Ipliers currently living in the manor, including his father, had mysteriously disappeared. Eric had been wandering the halls, calling out for them, his cries becoming squeaky as tears threatened to spill over...

Before he found his family and the states that they were in...

But then, he shot bolt upright in his bed. His breaths were rapid and his forehead was layered with a fine sheen of nervous sweat. He pinched his hand to make sure that it was all a dream, and fortunately, it was.

Eric tried to stabilize his breathing then and there, attempting to calm down. “It w-was all j-just a bad d-dream,” he kept repeating to himself. “None of t-that was r-real.”

With a sharp exhale of air, he dragged himself out of bed and left his room. He figured a walk around the vast, ever-expanding halls of the manor would calm his nerves, along with a glass of water.

The weight of his prosthetics made the stairs creak, but the other Ipliers knew better than to interrogate whoever was making such a ruckus. When they heard the familiar metallic clunk against the steps, they knew it was Eric, and they either left him be or awoke to provide him assistance, if needed.

As he made his way down the stairs and into one of the bigger hallways, he sensed that something was off. The air felt thicker, as if some invisible force was adding weight to the environment without anything actually being there.

In addition, he thought he caught a whiff of something along the lines of smoke. He shivered slightly at all of this, but shook his head in denial, brushing these factors off as remaining slivers of his nightmare that still plagued his mind.

Eric was just about to step foot into the living room when one of his prosthetic legs slipped in something wet, nearly sending him careening to the tile floor. Fortunately, he grabbed onto the railing on the side of the wall with a less than elusive yelp to stabilize himself.

He caught his breath and, with fear laced in his vision, glanced down slowly towards the ground. He nearly started having another panic attack when he saw a smear of red coat the tile and flow around the bend. The red coloration was so deep, it nearly appeared black as ink.

With even shakier steps, Eric clambered around the corner to locate the source of the stain…

Only to be met with the pale, lifeless stare of his father, lying in a pool of his own blood.

This time, Eric’s screech could be heard across the entirety of the mansion, had it been any louder. He immediately knelt down and began inspecting Derek’s clothes with quivering hands. His red, white and blue polo shirt was now dyed with an even darker crimson due to the blood seeping out of a massive hole in his chest.

“D-dad?” Eric whimpered, his handkerchief slightly speckled with Derek’s blood after placing it next to him. “W-what h-happened? Pl-please get up!”

He began shaking his parent’s shoulders rather forcefully, causing his head to loll to the side rather limply, then softly thumping back down onto the floor once Eric had ceased his actions.

Before he could let loose a scream of his own, several more heart-stopping yells proceeded to echo throughout the living room and the halls surrounding it, followed by the crashing of bodies. Eric’s head snapped up and glanced in all directions to locate who was screaming. However, despite the noises sounding like they were coming from right around him, there was nobody else with him. Aside from his father.

Then, that’s when he heard them.

“Why, hello there, Eric.”

His head whipped to his left to meet the gaze of a man talked about throughout the household, but none too kindly. Said man stood before him in a red tailcoat and black dress pants, both of which had gashes torn in them, and from these gashes seeped both red and black. Various other cuts also covered his bare hands and face. The red was definitely blood, Eric assumed, but why was this man bleeding black as well?

Either way, it didn’t matter as the man strode in Eric’s direction and placed the blunt end of the cane he clutched on the area where his heart would be before giving the area a gentle tap and stepping back again, smiling wickedly all the while.

“Wh-what have y-you done with m-my friends?” Eric stammered, trying to lace some confidence into his voice. “M-Mark?”

“Oh, poor, sweet Eric,” Mark tutted, shaking his head and scattering loose flecks of blood and pitch-black ichor. “I’ve been waiting a while now to exact my revenge against your...family here.”

“R-r-revenge?” Eric questioned with wide eyes and a more noticeable quiver in his voice. “B-but the others a-are so sweet t-to me. They’d n-never do-”

“Oh, but my friend,” Mark interrupted with a wave of his hand. “You’ve just missed out on all the horrendous things they have done to others. Even to me.”

“T-that’s a l-lie!” Eric tried to shout. “They’d never d-do anything b-bad to others! You’re just t-trying to c-convince me o-otherwise!”

“You don’t get it, do you?” Mark began to raise his voice, inky-black ichor seeping out of the corners of his mouth. “You’re just too naive to see it! The others are evil…”

“No, t-that’s y-you!” Eric finally found the courage to retort back semi-confidently. “Y-you’re the e-evil one!”

At this, Mark’s eyes widened, and he turned his head slowly towards him, a pissed look in his eyes and on his face. He snarled, his lips quirking up to bare his teeth back at the boy.

“You insufferable brat!” Mark said, ever angrier. “Just for all that you’ve said and done, I’ll show you what has been made of your “family” and be on my way.”

Before Mark disappeared in an explosion of smoky black mist, he gave Eric one final glare and remark:

“Don’t be surprised if you end up being next.”

And with that, he was gone.

However, once he vanished, the air around the room began to shimmer before the environment revealed a truly horrendous sight from behind Mark’s illusion.

Blood and gore everywhere.

Eric felt like he was going to be sick at the sight of his friends plastered around the house, laying in their own life essence. He hesitantly gazed around and, one by one, took note of what happened to each of them.

First, he spotted Wilford in the kitchen, draped over the countertop with the broken end of a wine bottle stuck in his head, the jagged ring of glass biting into his scalp and sticking there, all the while drawing blood that flowed off of Wil’s head like tiny rivers.

Then, he saw Bim hanging from a taxidermy deer skull in the living room, the antlers emerging from above his eye sockets to make it look like he had sprouted the appendages.

As Eric shook his head in both fear and denial, he practically bolted out of the conjoining rooms and down the hall he came from. There, he saw both Google and Bing’s dismembered parts scattered across the floor, with a few limbs laying on the stairwell and a head posted atop it. Whoever’s head it was was barely recognizable, for the artificial skin was peeled away to reveal the mechanical insides.

Eric, surprisingly, only started to cry harder now, tears rapidly streaming down his cheeks as he realized that this was not just a dream.

It was a nightmare come true.

He then came across Dr Iplier, whose corpse was laying halfway inside a closet and covered with crudely stitched gashes that still leaked blood, which, to Eric’s horror, was a mixture of the red and black that Mark was coated in.

As he rounded the corner, avoiding going upstairs again, he nearly tripped over Host, whose blindfold was ripped clean off to expose his empty, bloody eye sockets. In addition, he was also missing the skin on one side of his jaw, exposing the teeth and bone beneath to give him a zombified look.

This drew a gag from Eric at the sight of Host’s mangled face, and he quickly fled deeper down the hall.

At this point, he had exhausted himself, so he simply let his back hit the wall and slide down to the floor, where he held his head between his knees. He then began to let loose gut-wrenching sobs that would make anyone else cry, as well.

He pulled his handkerchief out of his pocket and began to fidget with it, nearly tearing it in half with the force he was using on it.

Just as he was about to fling the cloth away, he felt the air around him drop in temperature, which caused him to look up. There stood Dark, his hair disheveled as if he were running his fingers through it all day. His jacket and shirt were both wrinkled, and his tie was missing.

At the sight of Eric curled up in a sobbing mess, Dark got on both knees in front of him and patted one of his own. He looked up to see the pale man smiling at him sadly.

“I’m terribly sorry, Eric,” Dark spoke at a low volume. “We couldn’t save them.”

Eric choked out another sob as he gazed up at Dark with watery eyes. “Th-they’re all dead! Even m-my d-dad is g-gone. My whole f-family is g-gone!”

He put his head between his legs again so Dark wouldn’t see him cry anymore. He felt a heavy hand rest atop his head and ruffle his hair, a seemingly kind gesture amidst these depressing times.

“Look here, Eric,” Dark said as he gently pressed a fingertip underneath Eric’s chin and raising his head to look back at him. “You still have me. We can be our own little family.”

“B-but what if M-Mark comes back f-for you?” Eric whined. “Th-then I’ll b-be all a-alone!”

“Trust me as you have in the past,” Dark drawled out, moving the hand away from his chin and dropping it back to his side. “He won’t be back.”

“P-promise?” Eric questioned, voice shaking harder than it ever had.

Dark merely responded with a nod and one word:

“Promise.”

Before he could get up and take Eric away with him, he let out a grunt and got back on his knees. Eric could only stare in horror as a spot on Dark’s dress shirt became soaked in black. The spot only grew bigger, as if he were hit with a bullet, and the blood was spreading further out.

Dark gently prodded at the fresh hoel in his gut before looking back up at Eric and uttering two words that would be the last he’d ever hear.

“I’m sorry.”

After uttering those final words, Dark collapsed right into Eric’s lap, his head landing in his cupped hands. He let out a shocked gasp and lifted Dark’s head up to look into his eyes and wave his hand in front of them.

“Oh...oh n-no, D-Dark, please d-don’t!” He began to babble uncontrollably, tears falling faster than ever, with a few landing onto Dark’s cheeks to make it seem as if he were crying. They ran down his face, which seemed to be getting paler by the second, even though it seemed impossible for him to pale any further.

“P-please don’t l-leave me,” Eric sobbed, cradling Dark’s head as he felt his blood soak into his own polo shirt, staining it black. “N-not alone in th-this place.”

Dark could only let out a faint wheeze that sounded like a chuckle before he took one final deep breath and let it out. His obsidian eyes seemed to dim as this last breath fled from between his lips.

Eric gasped as he heard this and, not wanting to lose the last friend he had left, clutched onto Dark’s body and held him close, his head lolling over and landing limply onto Eric’s shoulder.

He sat there, clinging to Dark’s body amidst the massacre of his family that had taken place just mere moments ago, and cried for hours on end.

This was truly a nightmare that Eric would never wake up from.

#markiplier fandom #markiplier egos #eric ericson #darkiplier #actor mark #wilford warfstache #bim trimmer #googleplier #bingiplier #dr iplier #markiplier the host

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middleearthpixie · 3 years ago

Text

In Time ~ Chapter Twenty-One

Summary: Amara confronts Jassin about his treachery

Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield/Amara of Rivendell (female OC)

Characters: Thorin, Amara, Bilbo, Kenia, Jassin, Elrond, Lindir

Rating: T

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3,276

Tagging: @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @tschrist1

Kenia came into the Healing room as Amara emerged from her chambers, where she’d changed into a more sedate pair of gray velvet leggings and a dark blue tunic. With a knowing smile, Kenia asked, “So, did you and Thorin kiss and make up?”

Amara made a face at Kenia as she crossed through the Healing Room. “I think you know the answer to that, Kenia.”

Kenia’s grin could have lit up the room. “That is wonderful!” She threw her arms about Amara and hugged her warmly. Then, she stepped back, her smile fading. “Wait… that means you will be leaving us, doesn’t it?”

“I wanted to speak with you before I approached Elrond,” Amara said, her throat tightening somewhat. Although she was of course looking forward to the new life she’d be starting with Thorin, and looked forward to seeing Erebor as well, but she’d spent her entire life in Rivendell and had never once given thought to leaving it until now.

“Speak with me? About what?”

Amara caught her by the hands. “I made a terrible mistake in thinking Jassin was the one who should take my place, should I leave. And I made an equally terribly mistake in not pushing you to be the one instead. But, you’ve learned so much and have become so skilled, I feel absolutely no qualms in recommending you become Rivendell’s Healer when I leave.”

Kenia’s golden brown eyes widened and shimmered as she said, “You really are leaving?”

Amara nodded. “Thorin has asked me to marry him, and I’ve said yes. And seeing how he is the King Under the Mountain, he cannot possibly remain here and he’d never be happy here, either even if he chose to stay here for me.”

“He proposed?” Kenia smiled once more, her eyes still shiny. “That is wonderful! I am so happy for you!”

“Thank you, but I wanted to ask you, would you be willing to step up and into my shoes? Because if you are, I will speak to Elrond about it as soon as possible.”

“Do you think I am ready, Amara? I still feel I have so much to learn.”

“And that is why I know you are ready. I will leave you copies of my books and notes, and if you ever need me for anything, you need only send word and if I can come I will.”

“Oh, you’ll be busy with your new life,” Kenia told her, embracing her once more. “You’re going to be a queen and you know one of your duties will be producing an heir with him, so you’ll be fairly busy with that as well.”

Amara laughed as she gave Kenia a squeeze. She hadn’t even given a thought to children yet. But, Kenia was right. One of Thorin’s duties as king would most likely be producing an heir, which gave her a fluttery feeling deep in her belly. “Yes, I—I suppose I will be. But, if you need me and I can come, I will. I promise.”

Kenia stepped back, tucking a loose red curl behind her ear. “I can never possibly fill your shoes, Amara. I simply cannot. It would take me two lifetimes to learn all that you know.”

“Oh, stop. You will be fine.” Amara caught Kenia’s face in her hands. “You have all of the gifts a good Healer needs and I promise you, you will be fine. Trust in yourself and your skills. Now, come along and have breakfast. Thorin and I are announcing our betrothal and you won’t want to miss Elrond’s reaction.”

They left the Healing Room together and as they drew near the terrace, Amara smiled at the boisterous laughter she immediately recognized as belonging to the dwarves. Slipping her arm through Kenia’s, she said, “Don’t look so nervous. They are loud, but lovely.”

“I know Kili and Fili are, but the others?”

“You will be fine.”

They stepped out onto the terrace and Amara found Thorin at once, sitting with Elrond and Gandalf and Bilbo. He looked up, and she’d swear she felt a jolt as his gaze landed on her. A slow smile lifted his lips, he turned to Elrond to say something, then rose and came around toward her.

Her heart actually fluttered at the sight of him. Her handsome dwarf.

“I was wondering if you’d gotten lost,” he said, and then turned his smile to Kenia. “It’s good to see you again, Miss Kenia.”

Amara bit back a smile as Kenia actually blushed. “And you as well, Mr. Oakenshield.”

“If you don’t mind,” he reached down and threaded his fingers with Amara’s, “I need to steal her for a bit.”

“I don’t mind at all.”

“Good.” Thorin turned to Amara. “Shall we?”

She let him tug her behind the row of dwarves all seated around a large table, to the dais where Elrond and Gandalf sat. She smiled. “Good morning, my lord.”

Elrond smiled back. “A good morning to you as well, Amara.” His dark eyes were keen as his gaze shifted from her to Thorin and back. “Mr. Oakenshield seems to have been most impatiently waiting for you, judging by how he kept drumming on the table and tapping his foot.”

She looked over at Thorin. “Impatient, were you?”

“Just a a bit, yes.”

“Why?”

He grinned. This last day was the most she’d seen him smile since he first arrived in Rivendell and she gave his hand a gentle squeeze. Hopefully, there were to be many more smiles from him in the coming days. More smiles and plenty of laughter. He’d had enough sorrow for several lifetimes.

Elrond looked back to her again. “What is going on?”

Before she could answer, Thorin returned her squeeze and said, “Last evening, I asked Amara for her hand and she accepted my proposal.”

Both Elrond and Gandalf smiled and Elrond rose from his chair to say, “Congratulations to you both.” He came around to catch Amara by the shoulders and leaned in to brush her cheek with a kiss, then said, “We will miss you, Amara. You have been a gift to all of us.”

“Thank you, my lord,” she replied, her voice breaking slightly. Thorin’s fingers tightened about hers as she cleared her throat and added, “And if you would agree, I would like to see Kenia promoted to my position. She is a fine Healer and would be an asset.”

“I will speak to her about it, of course. And I do trust your judgment, Jassin notwithstanding.” He gave her shoulders a squeeze and then added, “And if you would not mind, I think I would like to host a ball to celebrate your betrothal. This evening, after sunset.”

With that, he stepped back and held up his hands for silence, which fell as if someone dropped an invisible blanket over the entire terrace. “This evening, I would like everyone to gather in the ballroom, where we will celebrate the betrothal of Amara Erlene to Thorin Oakenshield.”

Amara smiled at Thorin as the Company exploded into a round of boisterous cheers and shouted well-wishes. They were deafening in their noise and she didn’t miss how both Elrond and Gandalf flinched at the volume.

It was wonderful to see Thorin so happy, to see him smile, and see how that smile reached up into his beautiful blue eyes. Those first few weeks in Rivendell, he was so angry and sullen, that at first, she wasn’t at all certain she’d be able to work with him, and almost assigned Jassin to care for him instead.

But there was something about him, perhaps it was his anger, his sullenness that drew her to him, that made her determined to reach him. Now, seeing him happy, seeing him at peace, made her eyes sting a little as tears came to them. And when he turned those beautiful blue eyes on her, she released his hand, slid her arm about his waist and tucked her head against him.

After breakfast, Elrond came around to Amara’s chair and said, “Thorin, would you excuse us a moment?”

Thorin’s brow furrowed, but he nodded as he got to his feet. “Of course. Amara, I will see you later.”

“Of course you will.” She smiled as his hand came to rest on her shoulder and a gentle squeeze followed.

Elrond waited until he’d left, until Gandalf left as well, before saying, “Jassin has been asking to see you. Lindir told me this morning he’s gotten quite agitated about it. But, if you don’t wish to see him, I don’t want you to feel you must.”

Her smile faded. “Why?”

“He won’t say.” Elrond’s hand came down onto her shoulder. “Take Lindir with you, if you’d be more comfortable.”

“Thank you.” She glanced over her shoulder at Lindir, who stood not far from where the dwarves congregated at their table. Thorin sat with them, next to Balin, and he leaned his head close to the white-haired dwarf. From the looks of it, they were deep in conversation and not paying much attention to what the others were doing.

As for Lindir, he watched the dwarves with the same expression they always seemed to bring to his face, pure resignation. She wondered if he’d felt her looking at him, for he suddenly turned toward her and the corners of his lips curved upward, while one delicate, arched brow did the same.

She winked, which brought on a full smile. Having the dwarves in residence tried him severely, but to his credit he never showed any irritation with them, nor did he speak ill of them, except for the occasional complaint to Elrond. To the reserved elves, the dwarves were high-spirited and when they played, they put their all into it. After spending so much time seeing this, Amara wondered if perhaps they didn’t have the right idea.

Both Balin and Thorin looked up and at her, and they just as quickly looked back down. As she passed by them, she leaned over and pressed a kiss into the top of Thorin’s head, and without stopping, continued over to Lindir. “Will you come with me to the cell block?”

“Of course.” He smiled. “Lord Elrond thought you might like an escort.”

“Has Jassin said anything else other than he wished to see me?”

Lindir shook his head. “I’m afraid not. He has been rather close-lipped on the whole. It was only this morning he’d begun asking for you.”

The Rivendell dungeons were far below the palace, where the air grew dank and chilly and the walls were damp and mossy. It was everything Rivendell above was not, and Amara didn’t like ever having to be down there. On the rare occasion when a prisoner needed her, she would of course venture down to the dungeons, but she stayed no longer than absolutely necessary. They felt very closed in and she hated not being able to see the sky.

Of course, she’d have to get used to that. Erebor was beneath a mountain. She had no idea how often she’d be able to see any bit of sky once they reached there, and the very thought made her palms damp and her heart beat a little faster than normal.

The Rivendell guard were stationed throughout the dungeons, which she found odd, since Jassin was the only one imprisoned at the moment. Glancing over at Lindir, Amara asked, “Has Lord Elrond said what he plans to do with Jassin?”

“He has not. At least, not to me. I think he was waiting to see how you fared first. That you survived will temper his fury somewhat, but I would not be surprised if Lord Elrond decides to execute him for his treachery.”

Amara wasn’t certain how she felt about that. Part of her would rather see him spared, but the part of her that was still so hurt, so furious at his betrayal, thought death might actually be too good for him. With death, his regret would be over in a heartbeat. With banishment, he would spend the rest of his life homeless, never allowed to return to Rivendell at all.

But, with banishment, there was always the possibility of him coming after her again. True, he would have a difficult time penetrating Erebor—or so she hoped—but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t lie in wait in Dale or Esgaroth or any other settlement nearby. And while it wouldn’t matter much now, the time would come when, as Kenia pointed out, she and Thorin might have children. Then, she would worry nonstop about Jassin.

She and Lindir rounded the corner and she stopped as Jassin leaned against the iron bars of his cell door. In the week since his attempt on her life, he’d grown thinner, with deep hollows beneath his cheekbones and dark circles beneath his eyes. His hair, once so smooth and sleek, was limp and greasy.

She felt nothing as she stared at him. “I understand you’ve been asking for me.”

He nodded. “I wanted to talk to you, Amara. I wanted to beg your forgiveness and plead you ask Elrond to show mercy.”

“Show mercy,” she glanced over at Lindir, and then one of the guards, “when you showed me none? Tell me, when Mr. Oakenshield presented with morgul-induced symptoms, was the morgul blade Azog’s or did you have something to do with it?”

“It was the Defiler. I was only overlooking the earlier symptoms.”

“What?” She took a step closer, ignoring Lindir as his hand came to rest on her shoulder. “What earlier symptoms?”

“Oakenshield complained of increased pain. I took a look and told him it was nothing he need worry about and that he should not trouble you with it, that if it worsened, he should let me know instead. The fool dwarf trusted me enough to keep it from you.”

“Did you think I would not realize it?” she countered, fighting to keep herself calm when in truth, hot, steaming fury radiated through her. “Did you think I would not put hands on him and see it for myself?”

“I’d hoped he’d have been dead by then.”

“Why? What did Thorin Oakenshield ever do to you?”

“Nothing. But I know Lord Elrond wanted him out of here, wanted them all out of here. And Oakenshield succumbing to his wounds seemed the easiest way to get there.”

“How dare you?” Now she couldn’t keep the fury from her voice. “You have been trained to spare a life, not to take one and certainly not to play judge, jury, and executioner.”

“I was trained to be your lapdog.”

“No,” she shook her head, “you weren’t. I’d asked Elrond to promote you but I suppose he saw something I did not and that’s why he refused. And that’s too bad, really, for you had a gift, Jassin. And since I am taking my leave of Rivendell in the coming days, you would have been my choice to be my replacement. Which would have been my mistake, for Kenia has proven herself to be the right one for the position, so I suppose you actually did her and me a favor.”

“Wait,” Jassin held up a hand, “you’re leaving?”

“I am. That fool dwarf you so cavalierly left to die has asked me to marry him and I’ve said yes. I hope that keeps you warm while you rot down here. Or, while you rot down here until Elrond makes his decision.”

Jassin’s eyes widened. “But, you can talk to him, Amara. You can convince him to be lenient, to only banish me instead of executing me. You can, he listens to you.”

“Why would I wish to argue for your life to be spared? You were all too willing to take mine, to take Thorin’s life, remember.” She looked at Lindir. “Let’s go. I’ve heard enough.”

“Of course.”

“Wait!” Jassin’s voice rang through the dungeons like the peal of a bell. “Come back here! You must talk to Elrond! You must!”

She ignored him, but winced when he shrieked, “I should have killed that idiot dwarf when I had the chance! And I should have killed you as well! Dwarf whore!”

Metal sang as one of the guards unsheathed his blade. “That is enough out of you, Jassin.”

Her cheeks burned as she and Lindir returned to the surface, and as they stepped out into the pale sunlight splashing along the colonnade, she drew in a deep breath of clean, fresh air, and let it out slowly. “Lindir, may I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Is that what everyone thinks of me? That I am nothing more than a dwarf whore?” The word whore made her wince, especially as she waited for Lindir’s answer.

She needn’t have worried, for he didn’t even need to think it over. He simply shook his head. “Not a one of us thinks that. We’re all rather fond of Mr. Oakenshield. He’s a bit terse. A bit grouchy. But, I know Lord Elrond respects him, and so do the rest of us.”

“Good. I’d hate to think I’d misjudged everyone as much as I did Jassin.”

“Even if we didn’t care for Mr. Oakenshield, he makes you happy and we all love you, Amara. And,” Lindir’s eyes grew uncharacteristically misty, “we will all miss you terribly.”

She turned and embraced him. “I am only going to be in Erebor and I will come back to visit from time to time. I promise you. Kenia knows if she needs me, she need only send word.”

Lindir hugged her back, giving her a gentle squeeze. “Kenia is competent, but she isn’t you.”

“That is not necessarily a bad thing. Change is good.” She stepped back and smiled at him. “Remember that.”

She heard the shout of voices and knew without being told, the dwarves were in the fountain once again. Still, she turned and smiled, moving to the railing, where she leaned against it and just watched the high spirited fun. “Elrond will be so glad when they take their leave.”

“I am not so certain of that,” he replied, leaning on the railing alongside her. “I’ve heard him muse about how cold the fountain might be.”

Amara couldn’t hold back her laugh at the thought of Elrond using his own fountains as water slides. “Do you think he’ll try?”

Looking over at her, Lindir nodded. “I think it entirely possible.”

They stood there, in peaceful silence, watching as one by one, the twelve dwarves of Thorin Oakenshield’s Company took their turn shooting down the marble into the fountain. Hopefully, Elrond would try the fountain and would find it every bit as much fun as the dwarves did. He needed to laugh more often, and perhaps his time spent with the dwarves in residence helped give him the nudge in that direction.

Amara leaned her head against Lindir’s shoulder. They had grown up together and she would miss him terribly. In fact, she would miss everyone (well, mostly everyone, anyway) there, but she would miss him almost as much as she’d miss Kenia. They were her family and it would be strange, not having them all with earshot or only a room or colonnade away. She didn’t know what to expect in Erebor, aside from much noise, judging by what she’d seen in Rivendell, when the dwarves were on their best behavior more or less.

But still, she looked forward to it, to a new home and the life she and Thorin would build together. Change was good, even if it wasn’t easy.

#The Hobbit #Thorin Oakenshield #Hobbit Fic #Hobbit Fanfic #Fan fiction #The Hobbit fan fiction #Thorin x OC #AU #AUJ #Thorin Fic #Everybody Lives AU #Hobbit Medical Drama #Hobbit ER

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bittykimmy13 · 4 years ago

Text

Hung with Care (GT)

A group of trinkets find themselves displayed for sale on a Christmas tree-- and one buyer is determined to have them all.

Co-written by the ever-fabulous @marydublin5 / @little-miss-maggie (who also made the header image!) <33

(Warnings: fearplay, dehumanization)

Alicia shivered. Although faint warmth hung in the air from the apartment’s heater, the red-and-white lingerie that barely cloaked her body did nothing to protect her from exposure.

She stood as far from the table as she dared, looking anywhere except the dizzying distance to the floor. Although she was tempted to take another pitiful step back from the edge, she did not want James to think she was making a run for it. Not that a trinket would make it very far. If he wasn’t so busy tonight, James would have delighted in the game.

Her heart lurched each time he turned his attention back to the table of trinkets. Alicia could do nothing other than watch as her fellow captives were plucked up one-by-one. Her only option was to dread when it would be her turn. She squeezed her eyes shut and braced herself when James’ hand barreled in her direction, but there was a squeal of alarm from beside her as the girl nearest was chosen instead.

“Stop squirming,” James said, chuckling as though the trinket was an unruly puppy. “Save it for the customers. I mean it—you don’t want this to be too tight, do you?”

Alicia peeked up to the sickening sight of James using a red ribbon to fasten the fighting girl to a candy cane. Her arms were pinned down securely, but her legs were left loose enough to wriggle. Once he was satisfied she would not come loose, he turned and hung her on the magnificent Christmas tree in the center of the room. The decorations were as luxurious as the apartment itself, but there was no question what the main attraction was: the trinkets tied up on the branches with bows and trapped in clear glass ornaments. The latest addition continued to squirm as much as her restraining ribbon would allow. For all her struggles, the branch barely twitched.

So possessed by the horrid sight, Alicia didn’t even register that she was the final decoration until James’ hand swept over the table and plucked her up between his fingers. She gave a choked shriek, shutting her eyes and panting. Her stomach churned at the thought of being tied to a candy cane, legs dangling helplessly over a deadly fall.

Without warning, the grip of his fingers vanished, and she fell a short distance onto a cold curve of glass. For a frightful second, she was back at the Rendition club, about to have a drink poured over her while huge faces laughed high above at her struggle not to drown. She braced her hands on the tight walls of her enclosure and looked straight up, finding that the glass curved all the way over.

The top of the glass ornament was secured, and before she could stop herself, she looked down. Empty air hung below her. She could pinpoint the spot where the ornament would shatter on the floorboards between James’ shoes if he let go. Her vision swam. She felt like she would faint at any moment.

A laugh reverberated through the glass, drawing her startled gaze up to James’ looming face.

“What’s the matter?” he cooed, giving the ornament a little swing from his pinched fingertips. “Scared I’ll drop you?”

She was too petrified to do anything except stare pleadingly.

He cocked his head, and she had only a split second to register his displeasure before she was falling.

A scream ripped through her throat, but it was cut short. Her descent came to a jolting halt when James caught the ornament in his other hand. She trembled so hard that she could barely push herself to hands and knees. At least she couldn’t see the floorboards now that his palm pressed against the glass beneath her.

“I’m pretty sure I asked you a question,” he said, bringing her back to his face. There was nowhere to look other than his eyes, which glinted with delighted malignance. “Are you scared I’ll drop you?”

She gave a wordless whimper and nodded emphatically.

James clicked his tongue, sighing as he looked her all over. One finger tapped pensively against the glass. “You’re so damn cute when you’re frightened. Let’s hope our friends think so, too.”

Another choked yelp echoed in the glass orb as James turned on his heel and brought her to the Christmas tree. He circled it twice before selecting a spot for her with care in the evergreen branches. His gaze skated over her objectively; a businessman merely staging his merchandise. Somehow, that was nearly as chilling as his malice.

When he was satisfied, he stood and took a few steps back to take in his handiwork. “Try to smile,” James said to them at large, motioning vaguely with his hands. “It’s Christmas, you guys.”

The apartment intercom dinged its cheery note in the overhead speakers. James grabbed a remote from the arm of the couch, turning on cheery holiday music that drowned out the remaining muffled weeping. Alicia watched with growing dread as he strode to the entryway and welcomed two impeccably dressed men inside.

Alicia didn’t bother trying to smile. She doubted she could manage even if she tried. Luckily, James was too preoccupied as a host to make sure the trinkets were following his command. She caught the two men’s names as James shook their hands. The dark-haired man was Pierce. The blond was Finch. It didn’t matter which was which, she decided as James offered his customers some cocktails. Both men had come with the sole intention of possessing a person.

“Hell of a snowstorm brewing out there,” Finch said with a shiver.

James chuckled. “Glad you were able to make it before it got ugly.”

“A goddamn blizzard wouldn’t make me miss this,” Pierce said, sipping from his cocktail.

Alicia was grateful to not be garnishing a drink. At least, not yet. The night was young, and these men did not seem the type to be patient with their purchases. Alicia willed her heart to stop pounding and accept the fact that there was no favorable outcome. Sold or not, there was no escape.

On a lower branch, Alicia spotted a burst of movement. One of the trinkets was in a panic, trying to jump up and find a way to undo the top of his glass ornament. Alicia clenched her jaw, inadvertently glimpsing the faraway ground. Then something equally horrific caught her attention—the customers had spotted the movement too, and realization dawned in their gazes.

“Always a fucking overachiever, James,” Finch said, elatedly clapping James on the shoulder on his way to the tree. “This is really something.”

As Pierce followed suit and made a beeline for the tree, their footsteps juddered straight through the branches. Alicia pressed her palms flat to the glass walls, breath catching at the resulting sway of her ornament.

The three figures filled her vision beyond the lush branches. Pierce crouched down to peer at the frantic male trinket encased in the ornament on the lower branches. Finch stayed on his feet, reaching out an arm. Alicia leaned away, holding her breath.

“You said you had eight,” Pierce said, his chin barely in view. “I only see seven.”

Her back was pressed against the curve of glass—this had put her just far enough in the shadows to avoid detection. Her bare feet slipped, toes curling against the frictionless surface. A moment passed, and then James made a noise of awareness and came over. Alicia cursed, bracing herself as his hand shot in the air and tilted her ornament with two fingers. She slid to the bottom. James’ amused face drew back, and Pierce leaned in. She stared at him, upside-down, and he stared back.

“Is she new?” Pierce asked.

“Hardly,” James scoffed. “I got her secondhand from Rendition downtown. Between you and me… I think she’s just afraid of heights.”

Finch shared a look with James, stifling a laugh that was both boyish and cruel. He knelt next to his fellow buyer, shouldering him slightly so he could get a better look. “That’s too fucking funny,” Finch said. “I don’t know how to break this to you, sugar, but you’re gonna have to get used to it sooner or later.”

She didn’t answer him, trying desperately to compose herself. It was too late. Without meaning to, she had drawn the most attention to herself, and to her horror, it wasn’t going away. Finch was determined to test James’ theory.

“So if I just—” Finch gave the ornament a sharp jab with his finger.

The three looming faces swung, and she caught a brief flash of the ground. She cried out and curled into herself, attempting to hide her face in her arms and block it all out, but there was no escaping their cruel amusement now that she had given them exactly what she wanted.

Chuckles rumbled through the glass. Tears of humiliation and terror promptly spilled onto her cheeks. Another poke at the ornament jostled her out of her fetal position. A sob wracked her shoulders when she was forced to brace her hands on the curve beneath her, putting her tears in full view of her tormentors. In her attempt to look away from their faces, she inadvertently glimpsed the fall once more, and she violently reeled back for safety that wasn’t there, hyperventilating.

Her view darkened with the approaching shadow of Finch’s hand again. Weeping, she braced herself.

“That’s enough,” Pierce said, rolling his eyes. “She looks like she’s gonna puke. But no judgment here if that’s what you’re into…”

Scoffing, Finch still closed the distance with his hand, but he didn’t jab this time. Instead, he ran a tender fingertip over the outside of the glass. Past his hand, Alicia caught a possessive glint in his eyes. Pierce rose out of view to continue circling the tree like a hungry shark.

But Finch stayed. “She’s a cute one,” he told James. “Maybe I’ll take another while I’m at it, but she’s mine for sure.” He raised his eyebrows at her and stroked the outside of the glass again, anticipating the moment he could actually touch her. “Aw, don’t be scared, sugar. We’re gonna have a great time.”

“Good choice,” James said, giving her a smug look of approval that should have been reserved for a prized animal about to be sent off to slaughter. “As for price—”

“I’ll take all of them,” Pierce said, calmly circling back around the tree.

Alicia didn’t think it was possible to catch James off-guard, but he certainly looked rattled. “You mean the rest of them?” he asked.

“No. I mean all of them.” His eyes slid over to Alicia. He gave her a desirous smirk that made her shrink away, a new pit of ice forming in her stomach. “The cute little acrophobe, too.”

“What? No, come on, I had dibs on this one,” Finch protested.

“Dibs? Really?” Pierce shot him a derisive look. He then fixed his gaze on James, his stance one of utter, ruthless confidence. “I’ve got to be somewhere in an hour, so I’d like to move things along. You quoted me at four-hundred per unit. I’ll give you five grand right now for the set.”

Finch was on his feet so fast, Alicia’s ornament was left swaying in his wake.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he growled. “I came all the way here—”

“Not my problem.” Pierce glanced at his wristwatch, then back to their host. “Do we have a deal or what?”

Finch looked to James as though he might step up on his behalf. “Hey, I’ve bought from you three times this year alone. Repeat business. You just met this guy!”

James chuckled, stirring his drink. “Money talks. That policy hasn’t failed me yet. You gonna outbid him?”

Alicia saw Finch’s hand coil at his side and she shivered to imagine what he would do if he had her in his possession. “How do you know he’s not rebellion or some shit?” Finch insisted. “Or maybe a fucking reaper! How many people do you know buy this many at once?”

Alicia had never seen James hesitate like this on closing a deal—certainly not when he was being offered above asking price. James grew thoughtful and the room waited on his silence. He tucked his hands into his slacks pockets, ambling around the Christmas tree. Around his precious, 3-inch tall paychecks.

“He’s right, you know,” James remarked. “That’s a lot of trinkets for one guy. You equipped to deal with all of them at once? Not as easy as it looks, you know.” They can be awfully needy if you plan on keeping them around.”

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Pierce said. “I know what I’m doing.”

James stopped walking, an odd look coming over him. Alicia stared, trying to discern the sudden shift in his stance, that touch of a curious smile on his mouth. “Are you looking for a little taste-test?” he asked quietly. “Is that what this is?”

Alicia heard a few other trinkets choke in fear at the implication. Pierce’s silence was hardly a comfort as he met James’ stare head-on. After a moment, Pierce broke eye contact and typed a little on his phone. Shortly after, a notification lit up on James’ phone screen.

“I hope that answers all further questions,” Pierce said.

James rubbed the back of his neck as he scanned the message. His brown eyes glittered with excitement again, and Alicia was only momentarily pleased that this might be the last time she had to look at him.

“I’ll find a bigger box,” James announced calmly.

“Wait, what the fuck was that?” Finch looked between the two men wildly. “What did you tell him?”

“Hey, wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise for the little ones.” Pierce smirked sinisterly. “I’ve been dreaming up my Christmas present for a while now.”

Giving an enraged growl, Finch suddenly swept his hand out and snatched Alicia’s ornament from the branch. She screamed, but no one seemed to notice.

“At least let me buy this one,” Finch demanded.

James raised an inquiring eyebrow at Pierce, shook his head. “She’s mine,” Pierce said, matter-of-factly, “or I walk.”

With no more than a shrug at Finch, James strode off. “Better luck next time.”

“As if there’ll be a next time!” Finch pressed Alicia’s ornament so hard into Pierce’s surprised hands that she expected it to shatter. She curled into herself as Finch’s voice rumbled menacingly at Pierce. “Fucking choke on her, freak.”

He stormed off and slammed the door on his way out.

“Hmph.” Pierce looked down at Alicia. “Takes one to know one, right?”

A smarter trinket might have at least cracked a smile to get in their new owner’s good graces, but all she could do was stare like a deer in headlights. The thud of footsteps distracted them both. With Pierce’s hands cupped around Alicia’s glass prison, she could barely see over the top of his fingers as James strode back into the room with a colorful Christmas gift box.

“Should be big enough,” James said, setting the box on the table by the tree. Every trinket in view recoiled as he turned his attention to them, ready to start packing.

“Hope you don’t mind if I help,” Pierce said. The rock of his gait made Alicia’s breath catch all over again.

James snorted. “Be my guest.”

Not a moment after he said that, the top of Alicia’s ornament squeaked as it was unscrewed. She looked up in time to see it fly away. She was so braced for fingers to reach in that she wasn’t prepared for her prison to tilt. Catching a glimpse of Pierce’s waiting palm, she whimpered and pressed her back to the glass.

“No,” she breathed. “N-no, no, please…” There was nowhere for her to go, but her instincts weren’t easily quelled. She desperately scooted back and tried to ground her heels to avoid falling.

“Don’t fuss now,” Pierce hummed. He gave the ornament the smallest shake, proving just how inconsequential her resistance was. With a little shriek, she dropped to his palm and hurriedly scrambled to the middle to avoid the edge.

James laughed outright, and Alicia realized he had been watching the whole time. “I wonder what kind of noise she’d made if you grabbed her by the ankle.

“Trust me, I’ll get plenty of playtime with her later.”

Pierce moved so swiftly that she had no time to even think about how high she was off the ground. He tilted his palm into the box, and she slid onto a cushion of tissue paper that barely noticed her weight.

She was grateful to be free of that spherical death trap, but the knot of anxiety in her stomach didn’t let up. Pierce moved with an eagerness that rivaled James’ as they unfastened each trinket and loaded them into the box. She had a sinking feeling with every glance she stole that, as vicious as James could be, they were about to experience a new level of fear.

With all eight of the trinkets spaced carefully in the tissue paper, they resembled a box of living, shivering ornaments. Alicia wondered how Pierce could smile with all those tiny eyes on him, watching his every move with bated breath. He sighed out through his nose, brushing fingertips over the fronts of a few trinkets nearest him.

“Contact me if you have another haul like this,” Pierce said. “I can always make room for me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” James said, practically singing at the idea of his amount of money making a return.

The money was transferred. The buyer shook hands with James, and then the lid was fitted on. Light vanished. The sounds of the outside world became muffled, and Alicia’s own breathing caught louder in her ears.

It was a long journey in darkness. Some of the trinkets whispered their guess on what their new owner had planned for them. Whether he would be worse than James, if that was possible. The most likely discussed, Alicia thought, was that they were meant to be Christmas presents for Pierce’s friends. Stocking stuffers.

Alicia snapped out of her morbid wonderings when she heard a door unlock. She cursed herself for letting her mind drift when she should have been preparing herself.

“You guys holding up okay in there?” Pierce’s voice made her flinch as it resonated through the lid. “Don’t worry. I’ll have you out in a minute.”

Alicia’s heart hitched as gravity became tumultuous. She could sense that Pierce was trying to keep his purchase steady, but a simple movement like sitting down and laying the box on the carpet felt like descending in an airplane shot out of the sky.

At the last second, Alicia had the sense to hide herself from sight. She burrowed into a fold of tissue paper, covering as much of her body as possible. She was still squirming to adjust herself when the lid came off. She glimpsed a sliver of high ceilings and warm lights, soon eclipsed as Pierce leaned in.

She heard him suck in a soft breath, his lips parted with no words.

“What do you want with us?” one trinket, a male, probed him. His boldness could only come from the complete resignation of his fate. “What’s your thing, huh?”

Pierce’s sigh ruffled the decorative paper. “I’m sorry for all the dramatics back there. Had to be done. My name is Lee Rhodes, and I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to get you to safety.”

No one said anything. Alicia didn’t have to see their faces to know that no one in that box believed him.

Pierce—or rather, Lee, if he was telling the truth—sighed again, softer this time. The extended silence made her skin prickle, and she could practically feel his eyes scouring the box. Sure enough, he asked, “Why are there only seven of you?” The note of worry in his voice was strange, as though he might actually be concerned instead of upset that he was short of one plaything.

There was no point in hiding any longer. Nowhere to go. Once again, she had drawn attention to herself in the fight to avoid it. But she stayed put all the same, scrunching down lower.

A shadow darkened over the box. Sharp gasps and whimpers rippled among the prints. Alicia trembled, hearing the crinkle of tissue paper as Lee poked around in search of her. The sound drew closer and closer until there was a sudden nudge at her side. The touch was so light, it might have passed her by without notice if she hadn’t loosed a sharp squeak.

“There you are,” he said, sounding infinitely relieved.

Fingers dug deeper into the paper until they looped around her. She kicked and screamed for all she was worth, certain she was about to be the first victim in whatever cruel game he had come up with.

“No!” she begged. “No, l-let me go! I’m sorry for hiding! Please!”

His hand seemed to humor her struggles for a moment, but her flailing was soon engulfed in a secure grip, and he lifted her out of the box. Below, she caught dizzying glimpses of the other trinkets as they pitied her and feared their turn.

“Hey, take it easy.” Lee released her into a cupped hand. As she scrambled to sit up and center herself, his potent blue eyes sparked with recognition. “The little acrophobe. I should’ve known. It’s okay—you’re not too high off the ground now.”

She didn’t dare look, knowing he’d likely lift her far higher into the air the moment she did. She merely cowered under the shadow of his fingers and struggled for air that wouldn’t cooperate with her lungs.

“Sweetheart, you need to breathe,” he murmured. “You’re safe now. You hear me?” Something warm pressed between her shoulder blades and moved in a close circle. “Deep breaths. Can you do that for me?”

She whimpered and shook her head, but as his gentle touch persisted, the constricting feeling around her chest began to ease of its own volition. Obeying became easier, and she leaned back to look fully at Lee’s face.

Without the barrier of that damned ornament, she could drink him in more accurately. He was handsome, well-kempt, with dark hair pushed off his face. What threw her off was his gaze—kindness glimmered where there had been malice just an hour before. It felt real.

He smiled as she let herself relax into his grasp. “That’s it,” Lee murmured. “You’re doing great. Do you feel better?”

Alicia bobbed her head. She barely noticed his other hand approaching until a knuckle brushed at her cheek. The lack of personal space was usual for trinkets—the tenderness of this touch, less so. She felt tear trails smear on her cheek and begin to dry in the warm air.

“I’m so sorry for the hell he’s put you through,” Lee went on, a quiver in his voice.

“It’s not your fault,” Alicia answered, sounding small and meek even to herself.

Lee’s smile thinned. “It wasn’t yours, either. No one deserves…” He trailed off, words seeming to stick in his throat like he couldn’t bring himself to be explicit. He glanced away to address the others, too. “All that’s over and done with. I’ve got you now. You’re not playthings, decorations, or anything else those fuckers could dream up. You’re people here.”

A beat passed. One of the girls who’d been tied to a candy cane began to weep in relief, covering her face with her hands.

Lee made a noise of sympathy. He reached for her like he couldn’t help it. “Oh, sweetie…”

She all but clambered onto his palm, embracing his ring finger with desperate gratitude.

And then, it was as though an invisible barricade had fallen. Three other trinkets scrambled over and around the tissue paper to reach his hand. Alicia peeked up at Lee’s face. The soft look in his eyes quickly lit up with endearment—the kind that could be dehumanizing from the wrong person. But he was quickly proving to not be the wrong person. Even the trinkets who warily held back did not seem entirely frightened anymore.

Lee carefully lifted his hand from the box, ferrying the group of trinkets with ease. There was plenty of opportunity for them to hop off with how slowly he moved, but they stayed put.

Alicia found herself being lifted a little higher as Lee cupped both hands together and brought them to his chest. The trinkets were gathered into an embrace—snug, but not stifling. At first, Alicia grew tense again, but Lee’s slow breathing and gentle voice dissuaded her from panicking.

“You’re safe,” he said. “You’re all safe.”

Although Alicia couldn’t find her voice, she heard the other trinkets beside her murmuring their gratitude. Lee brushed his thumb over their heads and shoulder blades. They leaned into his chest, fears thawing away in the presence of his warmth.

The events that followed were like a whirlwind. The other trinkets were gingerly removed from the box, which Lee promised they would never have to look at again. He ushered all of them to a large, wrapped present under the tree. At first, Alicia was chilled when he said that was where they would stay. For a fleeting moment, she wondered if she had been tricked into being part of a gift.

But as it turned out, it was not a mere cardboard box. It was a housing unit, built with polished wood and scaled for trinkets. The interior was elaborate, separated into private rooms that contained actual beds. There was even a storage area with clothing waiting inside.

“I had my buddy Will build it for you,” Lee explained. “Depending on where you’re sent, you might meet him sometime. Yeah, he’s a little weird, but ask him to build anything for you, and he’ll ask what color you want it in.”

That was when Alicia realized that Lee was no random good Samaritan. Finch was right to suspect him of being part of the rebellion.

Time seemed to settle back into place when Alicia found herself sitting near the fireplace with a cup of hot cider and a warm set of clothes. Some of the trinkets opted to stay inside their temporary home. After being cooped up in the ornament and the paper-lined gift box, Alicia couldn’t bring herself to be surrounded by solid walls just yet.

She sat apart from the other trinkets who had chosen to emerge like her. They spoke to each other in low voices and sipped their cider. Before long, footsteps thudded through the living room carpet, announcing Lee’s return to the room. The trinkets fell silent.

“Don’t mind me,” he told them. And then, as though he had some sort of gravitational pull to Alicia, he lowered himself to kneel beside her. She gave his steady gaze a few fleeting glances, unsure of what to say. “You don’t like it?” he said finally, nodding at her untouched cider.

“O-oh, it’s lovely, I just… This is a lot to take in.” She gestured around her at the cathedral-sized living room, trinkets wandering freely on the carpet. Like people.

“I can imagine,” Lee muttered, sadness and shadows flickering over his contended mask.

“Who are you?” Alicia asked. “I mean, who are you, really? You went through so much effort to do this. Lying to James… You’re lucky he didn’t catch onto you.”

“Money tends to quell prying questions. I’m just a guy trying to make things right however I can.”

“You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”

Lee gave a nod, barely perceptible. “You'll stay here until my contact gives us a date to transfer you to a permanent location. It shouldn’t be a long wait.” He gave her a fond look. “But I never mind the company.”

Shyly, Alicia smiled back. She glanced at his hand, and it was like he could sense somehow she needed the comfort. She set her cider aside and inched toward him, knowing he wouldn’t deny her, yet dreading that inevitable ascent to dizzying, horrible heights. She shut her eyes and sucked in a breath as Lee’s fingers gently closed around her torso and legs.

“Wait,” he said. His hand flew off her, and she skittered back as the human unfolded his long legs to lay out on his side. “Here. Not so high,” he offered. “Is that any better?”

She gave a startled laugh. “How are you even real?”

Smiling, he rested his cheek down on his wrist and shrugged. “It is the season of miracles, isn’t it?” The glint in his eyes had a genuine yet strangely charming measure of conceit. He beckoned her with his other hand, and she stepped forward to show her consent.

The fingers curled around her again and lifted her fully this time. Her breath caught, but her nerves settled when she was able to look down and still make out the fibers of the carpet. He brought her to his chest, completing the cocoon of warmth around her. The pleasant scent of this woodsy cologne almost began to feel familiar.

All at once, exhaustion caught up. His cozy grip only served to guide her closer to drifting off. However, the rumble of his voice stopped her heavy eyelids from falling shut.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Alicia.”

“Beautiful.” His thumb glided down the back of her head. “Merry Christmas, Alicia.”

She curled snugly against his shirt and closed her eyes. “Merry Christmas, Lee.”

#gt #gt writing #print universe #giant tiny #size difference #fearplay #trinket universe #hung with care #mywriting

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the-fae-folk · 3 years ago

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After eating they were led to a room with stone pools filled with steaming water warmed from some natural spring. The pools were decorated with tiles that formed images of trees and flowers and wandering deer. Noticing Sam’s slightly red face, Ardri smiled and turned away to give him privacy. Humans were very odd with their concepts of modesty. Once the dust had been washed away they found that new clothing had been set out for them and that their other clothing had been taken away, possibly to be washed. Or burned, Ardri thought to himself. He hoped the Autumn Court wouldn’t go that far, the human clothing had been comfortable. But some Faeries simply refused to have anything to do with any humans or their things. Instead Ardri donned the loose fitting grey trousers and the slate blue tunic that was incredibly soft. At his waist he was given a leather belt with a brass buckle that was ornately designed to be in the shape of an inward spiral. They had also left him a cloak of some black material. When he lifted it he gasped softly. It was woven entirely of shadows, a rare gift. It would allow him to walk in darkness and shade where the eyes of most could not catch sight of him if he didn’t wish them to. He would assume it was a gift and not a trade, because he had nothing such as this to offer in exchange, though he would have to find some token to give to their host in thanks. Vaguely he wondered if the fae of the Autumn Court had seen the cloak he’d worn before and decided that he must be given one to replace its loss. When Sam coughed slightly to indicate that he was finished dressing, Ardri turned around. Sam was wearing a tunic as well. Soft reds and golds were mixed in with various shades of brown and the occasional hint of green as patterns followed the hem and sleeves of the tunic. The belt round his waist boasted of a brass oak leaf, and his trousers were a soft earthy brown. He looked, good. Handsome even. Like a prince of the Folk. A smile on his lips and his hands spread out in a “what do you think?” gesture. Ardri turned towards the door to hide the blush that had begun creeping up his cheeks while admiring Sam. “You look well. We should hurry. The Lord of Autumn is waiting and we do not wish to be rude.” Sam fell into step beside him, and it astounded Ardri how easily he seemed to adapt to Faerie. How comfortably he seemed to fit in to Ardri’s life, as if they had always traveled this way. “Why does everyone do that?” Sam asked curiously. “Call them by the titles. Don’t they have names?” Ardri shook his head. “The rulers of the four seasons don’t have names. Nobody can remember why, but my mothers always thought it must be because of how powerful they are. As for everyone else, names are dangerous to give out. Not as dangerous for us, but still important. I give my name freely, but that’s because I was given gifts of magic by a creature in a well to ensure it can’t be used against me. I didn’t give your name to Nod or our host because then they would have power over you, it’s best if you think of a suitable name to go by while you’re among other Folk here. Some, like Nod, are under the protection of powerful people and don’t mind if we know their names. It’s... a very complicated part of our culture.” Their host promised to have places for them to sleep upon their return, and Ardri thought again about what token he might give to this Elf. Nod had come again to lead them on. Past the city to where the forest closed in on the high ornately carved stone walls decorated with their repeated image of seven entwined blossoms, for the Empire that had fallen. Sam stopped short once, his mouth agape at the sight of the enormous turtle which bore the city of the Autumn Court on its back. But he ducked his head in embarrassment and hurried after when Nod made a noise of impatience. Ardri gave him a smile, and thought to himself that they ought to wander and see the sights once the others had joined them, so that the humans could safely see some of Faerie’s loveliest sights. It wasn’t to the turtle which Nod was leading them, but down a path, and not a great road either. A half overgrown and forgotten pathway that had once wound about the woods was where he took them. The Empire had been known for its roadways, connecting all of its great cities and richest towns. But this trail must have been older, long forgotten once easier ways were made. Ducking beneath a branch that hung out over the path, Ardri spotted a low stone building hidden between the trees. Another shrine. It was overgrown and had probably been abandoned by whatever Fae had once made it, or claimed it as their own. But there was someone there. Someone kneeling upon their right knee at the little shrine. As Ardri held the branch aside for Sam, he got a better glimpse of the human, for it was a human. A middle aged man wearing a black cassock and a little white cotton band that showed at the front but was mainly tucked beneath his collar. The shrine itself had been filled with candles, all flickering softly in the growing twilight. And the man appeared to be speaking softly to himself as he fingered a kind of chain with little knots and wooden beads. A brief snatch of what he was murmuring made its way to them as they were approaching. “Hail, holy Queen, mother of mercy, Hail our life, our sweetness, and our hope. To you we cry, poor banished children of Eve; to you we send up our sighs, mourning and weeping in this valley of tears.” Was it a cry for help? Who was he asking? This man wasn’t dressed at all like any of the humans Ardri had met in his brief time to the human world, and he certainly didn’t seem to be suffering in any way that they could see. And where was the queen he was speaking to? Ardri looked to Sam, hoping for some kind of clue as to what to do. Sam was looking surprised. “That’s a priest,” he whispered to Ardri, clearly not wanting to interrupt. The priest’s voice lowered, obviously having noted their presence, and Ardri could no longer hear his words. A priest, that made sense. This must be a prayer of some kind or a ritual for this man’s deity. He had called the Queen an advocate as well as holy, so some figure who petitioned their deity? From the stories he’d always heard, humans had all manner of strange customs concerning their gods, rites and rituals, prayers and sacrifices. Some even tried to worship the Folk, though that never lasted. After a moment the man appeared to have finished praying because he stood up and turned to face them. It was then that Ardri saw the item he held very gently in his other hand. It was the Crown of Autumn. Silver entwined with hawthorn twigs, leaves of aspen and blackthorn, and rubies as deep and red as blood. “They told me you would be coming,” said the man with a calm smile. “I’m glad you arrived safely.”

#fae #faerie #ardri #sam #shrine #crown of autumn #the lord of autumn #priest #rosary #prayer #the deep woods #empire of the seven blossoms

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airis-paris14 · 4 years ago

Text

Starlight 6

Summary: Amani is an orphaned heiress who’s spent most of her life raising her younger sister. T’Challa is a widowed King and Father. Neither of them is expecting much from their night at the Lotus. But the coming months have many milestones in store for these young adults. Will becoming a family be one of them?

1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6 || 7

“So where are you going?” Madiyson pestered her friend. It was 4:30 and Amani knew T’Challa would be here in exactly an hour. She quickly picked up the pace. She still had to take down her twist out and style it. “He said he’s just taking me out to dinner and then a surprise after.” Amani stood up from her vanity and walked into the bathroom. Madiyson had kept her word and spent the night. “With a man like that, the surprise could be diamonds sis,” Madiyson exclaimed as she fell back on Amani’s bed. “I’m pretty sure it’s not diamonds,” the heiress laughed. “How do you know?” Madiyson sat up, watching her friend delicately untwist her strands of hair. “I don’t but I hope not. I’d have to give them back.” Amani shrugged. They sat in silence as Amani finished untwisting and fluffing her hair.

“You really like him don’t you,” Madiyson asked. Amani paused her search for her red silk headwrap. She glanced up at her friend, “I really do.”

“I can tell, you’re willing to give back diamonds,” Madiyson teased. “Shut up,” Amani laughed, throwing one of the headwraps at her. Diamonds had always been Amani’s favorite jewel and all of her friends knew it. It wasn’t that she owned a lot of diamonds, but she was very vocal about her love of jewelry. It wasn’t rare for her to get excited and show her friends a video from a jeweler’s Instagram. The only two diamonds she owned had been gifted by her parents. Her first diamond was a necklace gifted to her when she turned 16. The second was a pair of diamond drop earrings given to her on her eighteenth birthday. Her parents had continued the tradition for Amare as well, but it would be up to Amani to purchase the diamond for her 18th birthday that was coming soon. She made a mental note to start looking for diamond earrings.

“I just don’t want him to think I’m with him for what he can give me. We aren’t in an exclusive relationship, and most of the things he can give me, I could give myself. Gifts are for girlfriends and wives, and I’m not either.” Amani pointed. Finally locating her silk head wrap she began to tie up her curls into a red wrapped pineapple updo. “I understand,” Madiyson agreed walking over into Amani’s closet. “What are you wearing to dinner?” Madiyson called searching through hangers. “It’s in here with me,” Amani replied, laughing as she heard the hangers continuing to move. “Okay, I’ll see it when you get dressed… Girl! I should raid your closet more often!” Madiyson yelled.”

Amani shook her head and started to pull on her clothes. She grabbed her red bodysuit followed by a pair of navy blue and green silk pants edged with red trim. She finished the look with a dark green short coat and red heels. She grabbed her diamond earrings off of the bathroom counter and checked to make sure she was still wearing the necklace her parents had given her. She hadn’t taken it off since the day they passed. With earrings and necklace in place, Amani covered her lips in lipgloss and smiled at her outfit. She looked good, and she knew it. The black woman left her bathroom and walked out into the bedroom. She grabbed her matching clutch and checked her phone. 5:25 on the dot. “Girl can I borrow this dress some-” Madiyson stopped talking as she spotted her friend. “Okay, sis!” Madiyson cheered. “You look good.”

“Thank you,” Amani smiled, “And of course. It would look great on you.” Amani nodded towards the short beaded white dress in her friend’s hand. “Thank you,” Madiyson cheesed. “He should be here soon. You gonna drive home or you gotta work soon?” Amani asked as she and Madiyson headed towards the living room. “I’m going home. Marquis asked if I wanted to get drinks at 8.”

“Ooh, look at you,” Amani teased. “It’s just drinks between friends,” Madiyson blushed. “Sure,” Amani grinned, “It’s just drinks for now. Next week it’ll be a date, and you know I’m right.” Madiyson didn’t respond and Amani knew that she was right. The doorbell drew both of their attention. “He’s punctual,” Madiyson commented. Amani opened the front door and smiled at the sight of T’Challa. “Hi,” she breathed. “Hey,” he breathed back, his eyes drinking in the sight of the woman before him. “Come in,” Amani gestured. “Thank you,” T’Challa smiled. “T’Challa this is Madiyson. Madiyson, this is T’Challa.”

“Nice to meet you,” T’Challa shook Madiyson’s hand. “The pleasure is all mine,” Madiyson insisted, “I’ve heard so much about you-”

“Okay, we should probably get going. I’m sure T’Challa had reservations,” Amani interrupted her friend. Madiyson could never resist a chance to embarrass her friend. “Bye Madiyson,” Amani called as she and T’Challa headed out of the front door. “Have fun! I’ll lock up! Don’t bring home no babies.” Madiyson yelled front the front stoop and Amani mentally groaned.

“She seems nice,” T’Challa commented as he opened the car door for Amani. “She’s really sweet when she’s not trying to embarrass me,” Amani sighed as he closed her door. T’Challa laughed as he settled in the car beside her. “The king drives himself?” Amani raised an eyebrow. “I enjoy driving,” T’Challa laughed, “besides, this is the safest car in the world. I wanted to drive you myself without someone listening in on our conversations tonight.”

“And what’s on the conversation table tonight that so special?”

“You’ll just have to stick around and find out won’t you,” T’Challa teased. He smoothly backed out of her drive and pulled off into the city. “How’d you end up in Atlanta?” the king broke the silence. “I went to college in the AUC, Atlanta University Center, I went to Spelman.”

“What did you major in?” the king inquired. “I was an independent Major. Did a mixture of Documentary Filmmaking, History, writing, and hospitality.” T’Challa nodded, “Did you enjoy your time?”

“I adored it. I’m still friends with a lot of people I went to school with. Madiyson, went to Clark Atlanta. I met her at homecoming one year. It gave me a sense of self and confidence. None of my professors made me feel crazy for wanting to study all of my interests.” Amani reminisced. “Does your sister go to school there?” T’Challa slowed to a stop at a red light. “Nope. They didn’t have her major, so she ended up at MIT. That’s where she wanted to be, so I’m happy for her. She has to make her own decisions.”

“It’s good that you’re supportive.” T’Challa smiled, easing onto the gas as the light turned to green. “What about you? Did you go to college?” Amani asked.

“Yes. I actually went to school in the states.” T’Challa’s eyes twinkled. “Really, you probably went to Yale right?” Amani joked. “Not even close,” T’Challa laughed. “Well, where’d you go to school?”

“I went to Howard University.”

“You’re a lie. There’s absolutely no way.” Amani gasped. “Is it so hard to believe that I would fit in?” T’Challa frowned.

“No! No, I just meant that it seems impossible that you could go to school in the states and no one would know who you were. It seems like the media would have been all over that.” Amani clarified. “Oh. Well, it was not that difficult. Your country did not have much interest in Wakanda until my father passed. I’m the first king to open Wakanda up to the world. I didn’t really tell people who I was, and people didn’t really ask. They just knew I was a foreign exchange student,” the king shrugged. “If that ever gets loose people are gonna lose their ever-loving minds,” Amani laughed. “I’m genuinely surprised it hasn’t already. I’m not exactly hiding it,” the king chuckled.

“What was your major?”

“Physics and Engineering.”

“No politics or international studies?”

“It was a minor,” the king shrugged, “My father taught me everything I needed to know about running our country. I wanted to study something that I was interested in before I spent a life ruling a country,” T’Challa explained. Amani frowned, “You don’t like being a king?”

“It’s not really as simple as enjoying it. It’s a responsibility that I gladly accept. I enjoy working with my people. I enjoy traveling, I could do without all of the politics but it comes with the job description. The responsibility has been passed down through my family since the beginning of our country’s existence. I couldn’t really see myself doing anything else.”

“I can’t fully understand, but as long as you’re happy, I’m happy for you,” Amani smiled. “Thank you,” the king grinned. They fell into comfortable silence once more. T’Challa pulled into a valet station and parked the car. He got out and rushed around to help Amani out of the car. “Thank you,” the waitress smiled. The king handed his keys to the valet and walked with Amani into the restaurant. “I hope you like Thai food,” he placed his hand on her lower back as they approached the maître d'. “I love it,” Amani told him. They checked in and the host led them back to their table. They looked over the menu, ordered, and simply enjoyed each other’s company. “If you could go to any city in the world right at this moment, where would you want to go?” T’Challa suddenly sat up. He leaned forward looking Amani directly in the eyes. Amani sat back, releasing her straw back into her drink, “Any city I want?”

“Any city on any continent,” the king promised, his smile growing by the second. “Milan, Italy,” Amani responded, “for fashion week.”

“Fashion week is soon yes?” T’Challa asked, sitting back in his chair. “It sure is, My sister’s birthday is usually the week after. That’s how I remember when fashion week starts,” Amani laughed. “How old will she be?” “She’ll be 18 this year,” Amani sighed. “That isn’t a good thing?” T’Challa frowned. “It is, but it’s just a reminder she’s gonna leave me for good soon,” Amani frowned, “And 18 is a big birthday in our family.”

“How so?” the king inquired. “Well, 18 is the age of majority in the US. So in acknowledgment of us becoming an adult, my parents gave their last gift. When we turned 16, my parents gave my sister and me a diamond necklace. When I turned 18, they gave me a pair of diamond earrings. Amare had been excited about receiving her earrings since she turned 17. They had bought her necklace before they died, so I was able to give it to her, but I’ve gotta keep the tradition alive on this one.”

“That’s really sweet,” The king offered a small smile, “I’m sure she’ll love whatever you buy for her.

“I hope so.”

The conversation faded again as the couple enjoyed their food. The occasional comment on the food was the only conversation. “Amani,” T’Challa started once he finished his food, “I have really enjoyed spending time with you.” Amani blushed. The king pushed his plate back before continuing, “I know that there is a lot to overcome between us. The distance being the biggest problem, my job coming in a close second,” Amani and T’Challa chuckled, “But I would really like to make us work. As a couple. Officially,” T’Challa paused watching for Amani’s reaction. She took a deep breath as her smile grew across her face, “Me too,” the young woman nodded in response. T’Challa reached across the table and took her hand in his, “Amani Okeke, will you be my girlfriend?”

“It would be my honor, your majesty,” Amani laughed at T’Challa’s groan. “It’s just T’Challa to you, entle.” The king pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. “What does that mean?” Amani soaked in the feeling of his hand against hers.

“It means beautiful in Xhosa, my native language.”

“I like it,” Amani giggled, looking up into his eyes. “I’m glad,” he stared back at her.

The waiter came back shortly and took away the new couple’s empty plates. T’Challa paid for dinner and happily escorted his girlfriend out into his waiting car. “I hope you enjoyed the food.” The king opened the door for Amani as she climbed in. “It was wonderful, thank you,” the young woman smiled as the king closed her door. “I am glad you enjoyed the meal.”

T’Challa pulled away from the curb and started the opposite direction from Amani’s house. “Where are you taking me?” Amani smiled, her eyes glued to the king as he ventured to the opposite side of the city. “It is a surprise.” He smirked as he cruised through a green light.

“Oh really?” Amani turned to face the window. “Can I have a hint?”

“No, no hints. Just accept the surprise.”

Amani frowned out the window, as T’Challa laughed. “I can see you pouting in the window.”

“I’m not pouting,” a smile crept back onto Amani’s face. “I can see it in the glass from all the way over here Amani-”T’Challa started. “I just want to know where we are going. I don’t like surprises,” Amani’s voice trailed off into a mumble. “You do not like surprises?” T’Challa glanced over at her. “No,” she fought back another smile. “So you would like for me to turn around and take you home? It is really a shame since we are so close to the surp-”

“No, don’t turn around,” Amani cried out stopping his hand from pulling over. The king laughed. “I won’t,”T’challa still pulled over into a parking spot off the curb. “We are already here.” The king smiled as he stopped the car. He got out and helped Amani out from her side. He squeezed her hand gently and didn’t let go. They walked up the street to a glass-front building. “An art gallery,” Amani smiled as she noticed people inside mulling around holding flutes of champagne. “Yes, I hope this is alright, I assumed that you like art from the work hanging in your house-”

“I do! I love art,” Amani reassured as the couple paused outside of the front door, “I just wasn’t expecting this, but I love it.”

“What were you expecting?”

“I don’t know, dancing or a show, I don’t really know what I was expecting. I’m glad this is the surprise though, I truly am surprised, and happy.”

T’Challa nodded and escorted her in. Their hands swang together softly as they moved into the room. “I do not know much about the exposition, besides the fact that it is a collection of new African American artists. This gallery is my favorite in the city, they always do an amazing job.”

“They must have an amazing curator,” Amani affirmed as she gazed at some of the works in front of her. “One of the best. I buy a lot of pieces from this galley. They always seem to have something that I want.”

“Maybe I’ll find something new for myself or Amare,” Amani smiled at her date. The two meandered around the room, picking up some champagne as they perused. As they were talking and walking Amani’s attention was drawn to a painting that hung behind T’Challa’s head. Noticing her look the king turned over his shoulder to find what had caught her gaze and he smiled. “Do you like it?” He gripped her hand in his and walked her to the painting.

“I do. There’s just something about her gaze, and her hair. It’s like it’s people, then a city, but then I find myself just staring at her curls once more. There’s innocence, there’s pain, and there’s pride. It’s wrapped up in one, and it’s breathtaking.”

“You should buy it?”

“Where am I gonna put a bright red painting in my house T’Challa?”

“I don’t know, paint your bedroom red? Paint the Guest room red?”

“You really want me to buy this painting.” Amani turned to him. “No. Not if you do not want it, but you’ve bought two pictures for Amare for her birthday, and you have yet to buy one for yourself.”

“I’ve already started my collection, and I’ve got to save up for her birthday present. So maybe next time,” Amani shrugged but looked up at the painting. “I understand.” T’challa glanced over at his girlfriend before taking another sip of his champagne. “So I am going to buy it for you,” The king announced.

“T’Challa you don’t have to do that. You do not have to buy me gifts.”

“I know that I do not have to do anything, but I want to do this for you. Do you like this painting,” the king turned to face his girlfriend and took one of her hands in his free one. “I do,” she nodded back. “Then I am going to buy it for you, because your are my girlfriend and I want to treat you. You do so much for others, so let me do something for you.”

Amani nodded and smiled. The couple finished pursuing and purchasing their items. A few hours later they found themselves back on Amani’s front steps. “I had an amazing time tonight.”

Amani pushed the key in her lock as she smiled. The lock clicked opened and she invited T’Challa in. “I did too,” the young homeowner smiled, shrugging off her coat onto the couch before walking back over to T’Challa. He smiled at her, “I hope I an not to forward in asking this, but I am going to be taking Ada on a short vacation and I would like for you to come with us. We aren’t going to Milan unfortunately, but we are going to Paris. I am sure she would enjoy your presence as well.”

“Are you sure, I wouldn’t want to encroach on you all’s time together. I know it is limited since she is away at school and with Nanny’s-”

“Well,” T’Challa cleared his throat, “I have been doing some thinking and that is all going to be changing soon. The vacation is for the end of her school year, and next year, I have decided that she will be continuing her formal education with me in the palace. And her nanny will be retiring as well. I took your advice and realized that I wanted to spend quality time with my daughter and get to know her. Not be a stranger that she comes home to and calls her father. And she is only five, she probably will not even really remember this vacation and she loves having you around and we coul-” Amani cut off his rambling by pressing her lips to his. She melted into the kiss as his senses took over and he kissed her back. She pulled away slowly blinking her eyes, “If I can get off of work, I would love to tag along with you all,” She bit her lip and grinned.

“Great,” he nodded slowly, gazing back at her, “I’ll send you the details in the morning my love.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

T’Challa rested his forehead on hers. “Goodnight Amani,” The king smiled. “Goodnight,” Amani whispered. The father placed one last kiss on her lips before she let him out. Amani locked the door behind herself and grinned all the way up the stairs to take a shower.

Taglist: @almostpurelysmut @blackbypurpose @nyneebee @hutchj @tchoking @sisterwifeudaku @wikiwakanda @royallyprincesslilly @90sinspiredgirl @strictlyashley @afraiddreamingandloving @thedelightfulone @autumn242 @purple-apricots @kumkaniudaku @queertrex @kaciidubs @halfrican-heat @skysynclair19 @dramaqueenamby @gorjiss @leahnicole1219 @kreolemami @mzbritt @yoyolovesbucky @derangedcupcake @builtalongthewayside @ilcb7 @chaneajoyyy @lalapalooza718 @ororowrites @leahnicole1219 @dopegalkk @sarcastic-sunshines @sarahboseman @shesakillerkween @waitingonafriend @faatassbitch @lady-love-and-glitter-roses @cxnismajcr @tchallasbabymama

#tchalla fanfiction #tchalla #tchalla imagine #tchalla x reader #blackpantherimagines #tchalla x black! reader #tchalla x oc #tchalla x black!oc #apbpfics #tchalla x you #starlightfic #black panther fanfiction

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psnowflake · 4 years ago

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Charades and a Drink Chapter 3 (A Post-Frozen 2 Ficlet)

Update update! I love writing fluff/angst, shit is addicting as hell. Planning on working on this simultaneously with my other fic, whichever I feel like writing at the time. Here’s the link to chapter 2, and here’s the link for ffn. Enjoy!

The great hall was packed with guests from different kingdoms from all parts around the world. Which was to be expected for the infamous summer solstice ball held in Arendelle. Conversations flew in all directions, and the festive jubilation was practically infectious.

Waiting for the start of the commencement ceremony behind the curtains, Anna was bouncing nervously on the back of her heels.

Elsa hadn't arrived yet, and it was much past the time that they had agreed to meet. Which was strange, because Elsa was almost always punctual. She was starting to worry that the older girl had decided to ditch her last minute.

Elsa would never do that.

How do you know?

She would never leave me.

But she did before, didn't she?

Yeah...but…

Sadly, she didn't have an argument for that.

Just as her doubts were beginning to get the better of her however, the sound of approaching footsteps resounded behind her.

"Sorry I'm late Anna, I was having trouble tying up my-"

Elsa walked in, and the sight of each other made them both stop in hushed silence.

Anna felt her throat dry and heat immediately rush up into her cheeks.

She couldn't put into words just how gorgeous Elsa looked in that moment. By now she thought she would've been used to the girl's ethereal level of beauty, but once again she was proven wrong. The blonde's dress was similar to her usual ice gown, but also with noticeable differences. It was a brighter shade of blue for one, bordering along the line of celeste. The hem fell short right below her knees, revealing the full display of her sister's slender calves. The top was no less revealing. The pleasing sight of Elsa's smooth shoulders added to the strange warmth she was starting to feel all throughout her body.

And her hair…

It was in the usual braid that Anna favored, but somehow it looked more...wild. It was less tightly woven, loose, emphasizing the slick of her bangs. A few bright snowflakes were also adorned along the braid, which complimented the blue color of her eyes flawlessly.

Needless to say, Anna liked it.

A lot.

Neither one said anything for a moment, but it was Anna who broke the silence first.

"Wow Elsa...You look…"

Amazing.

Stunning.

Drop dead gorgeous.

"You look beautiful..." She finally managed.

Elsa smiled shyly in response. "Thank you, so do you."

Anna let out an awkward laugh. "Nowhere near as beautiful as you probably."

At that Elsa frowned, and in a few steps took Anna's hand in her own, causing the redhead to look up curiously.

"Don't say that. You look beautiful, okay? Don't ever tell yourself otherwise." Elsa's tone was somehow both powerful and gentle, and it made Anna's heart skip a beat entirely.

"Okay..." Was all she could manage as she found herself lost in the blonde's affectionate gaze.

In that moment, Anna wished time would stop just to let her continue to stare and savor every detail of Elsa's reassuring smile. Maybe time did stop, because it felt like many minutes had passed as they stood there hand in hand, staring lovingly into each other's eyes, until they were finally interrupted.

"Your Majesty." The curtains of the hall were pulled back, and Kai appeared behind them.

Anna and Elsa jumped away quickly from each other as if they were caught doing something indecent.

Kai blinked in confusion. "My apologies, did I interrupt something?"

Anna composed herself with a clear of her throat. "N-not at all Kai."

The servant nodded respectfully. "The preparations are ready for the commencement. We'll be starting the introductions shortly."

Anna nodded and looked to Elsa in anticipation. "You ready?"

Elsa smiled softly. "Of course."

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

"Introducing Her Majesty, Queen Anna of Arendelle!"

Elsa watched Anna lift the curtains and make her way to the center of the dais as she was announced. All the guests clapped and a number of cheers rang out from the crowd, heralding the arrival of the kingdom's beautiful monarch.

And God was she beautiful. Fittingly, Anna looked like the essence of summer in light green and white, and her skirts moved around her lightly, almost as though they were made of air. She had pulled her auburn hair away from her face, tying it back into a loose style that framed her face, bringing out the teal of her eyes, and her collar bone was exposed, suggesting the enticing pattern of freckles that made it way down to her―

Elsa swallowed hard, and averted her eyes. It was no good, staring at her like this. She had to think of something else. Ever since she first saw Anna minutes ago, her body was reacting in ways that she couldn't control.

Why am I like this?

"Introducing Her Majesty, Queen Elsa of Arendelle!"

Elsa perked up in surprise, not entirely prepared for her introduction.

She really was distracted.

The guests clapped at her entrance. Elsa could see quite a few of them looking at her before whispering amongst themselves. Her confidence wavered. Was the dress too much? If she had to be honest, it was a bit more revealing than what she was comfortable with.

Her eyes shifted to the woman next to her.

Anna was smiling, glancing again at her outfit appreciatively. Almost immediately, Elsa's worries melted away, reminded that the one person that she wore the dress for did in fact like it. That was all that mattered.

The song of trumpets ended and the people clapped again in respect to their hosts.

The rest of the musicians began to tune their instruments, and Anna stepped forward. The ball was about to begin, and it seemed the clamour of the hall was quieting down ever so slightly.

"Thank you everyone for coming today to celebrate the wonderful occasion of the summer solstice in Arendelle. My sister and I are honored to once again commemorate the start of our kingdom's long held tradition with our friends and allies of the northern region. We hope that all the preparations are to your liking." Anna paused briefly before continuing. "As you all may know, it is customary for the summer solstice ball to begin with a commemorative first dance, and I would like to take this time to select a participant."

Elsa stood pensively. It seemed like her every sense was focused on Anna, on the way her skirt fluttered about her, on the way her hands clutched at them with a slightly greater force than necessary, and the way she was watching her every step. The girl had come such a long way she realized. Her speaking had become a lot more composed, and though she was still rough on the edges, it was clear that she had worked hard to improve her level of royal semblance. Elsa couldn't feel anymore proud.

Anna came down from the dais and the guests all stood in attention, eager to see who she would select for her first partner.

As she came to stand in the middle of the cleared out hall, her eyes swept over the assembly, and many raised their glasses in a toast. She appeared thoughtful, but if Elsa had to guess it was mostly a formality. It was already quite clear to her on who it was that would be selected.

Near the front of the left side of the room, Kristoff stood in attention. He looked well groomed for the occasion, and seemed to be doing his best to hide his uncomfortableness for his attire. He shot Anna a smile.

But surprisingly, Anna's eyes didn't stop at him, and she turned back towards the dais until her eyes came to rest upon Elsa.

"Elsa," her clear voice said.

Even though the entire room seemed to turn to her, for a moment it seemed that time itself slowed to a crawl, that the world dimmed until there was only Anna in it, and Elsa felt like she stood at the edge of the light, eager to join her.

"Will you celebrate the summer solstice with me?" She asked.

It was then that Elsa realized she'd been holding her breath. The words didn't sink in immediately, but when they did, her mind began to race. She was reminded of their conversation yesterday, about her not wanting to dance in public because she was shy, and Anna proposing that one day she would. Nervously, she nodded, her heart pounding in her chest. Countless eyes were upon her, watching her every move.

Anna had chosen her.

On the surface it may have appeared nothing out of the usual. Many knew how close the two sisters were and just how deep their bond went, but to Elsa, with all the events that had happened in the past two weeks between them, the implication was something far more striking.

Anna had chosen her over Kristoff.

The walk down from the dais seemed to last an eternity, but it probably only lasted a few seconds. By the time she joined Anna on the open floor, she noticed that her sister appeared just as nervous, the tension almost invisible, perceptible only in the line of her shoulders, the angle of her chin.

Just start with the basics.

Elsa curtsied, and as the silks of her skirt whispered around her, she heard a barely audible 'thank you' come from Anna.

Had Anna really thought she would refuse?

Her chest felt like it was glowing. Elsa stretched out her hand, and Anna took it, and she gave it the barest of squeezes, a shared gesture of comfort between them.

The small orchestra was done tuning, and the conductor's baton clicked at the pages of his music sheets. One, two, three.

"You lead," Anna said encouragingly.

"Okay," Elsa replied, all the same, under her breath.

The gentle notes of flutes began, and behind them the violins and violas began a slow crescendo, but Elsa was already too busy to think on them. Her arm reached around Anna's waist, the world small and shrunken around them, and she cradled her sister's hand gently.

Anna looked up at her calmly, her teal eyes catching the candlelight, and Elsa felt her throat close up. The moment would come in a second, she knew, where the musical introduction would give way to sweeping strings and upbeat winds, and then she would have to move. She knew that much at least.

As the music wrapped itself around her, Elsa made the first step, and Anna followed instantly, reacting with an instinct born of years and years of training with her instructor. Elsa was well-versed in the matter, but Anna was polished. It was almost effortless, the way she danced, stepping backwards lightly and sprightly, as though she could read Elsa's mind even before her own body.

When Elsa extended her arm, Anna twirled, all control and elegance, and their skirts brushed together before Anna returned safely to the crook of Elsa's arm to continue. They moved together as though they had always danced together, as though this were their hundredth dance and not their first.

They turned and turned, one, two, three, and Elsa's senses were overwhelmed, the sight and smell and feel of Anna in her arms mingling with the music and the warm atmosphere. It was nearly too much for her to bear.

Anna's cheeks were flushed pink, her eyes were bright, her auburn hair shone in the evening candlelight and she was growing warmer, closer.

Was it her heart racing, or Anna's? With their hands and breasts together, she could hardly tell anymore. Did it matter?

Their faces were becoming closer and closer without them realizing. Noses almost touching. Eyes peering into each other's wistfully.

And then the music lifted.

Anna's eyes widened and she pulled away. Elsa did the same, slowing to a stop and quickly remembering that every single person in the room had their attention on them. The music ended on a sweeping, happy note, and the hall roared in applause and cheers. Her heart was pounding, her breath was short, and she felt energized, hot, as though she'd run a hundred miles.

What is wrong with me?

"May I have the next dance, Your Majesty?"

Anna turned to one of the visiting dignitaries and though she hid it well, Elsa noted she seemed startled. "Oh," she said, "of course." She then turned to her and gave her a smile. "I'll see you later?"

Elsa nodded, mind still racing. After that, Anna was taken away to the center of the floor to dance again, and Elsa was once again alone.

"Elsa," Kristoff's voice said, next to her, and she turned to the man, trying not to feel so distracted.

"Kristoff," She smiled, wanly. "I suppose that went well." She was trying not to sound affected, but wasn't sure it worked. Around them, the music was beginning again and many guests were now on the floor taking their places.

"It did," He said as they made their way off the floor. He was smiling, but there was something in his eyes that Elsa couldn't decipher. "You guys were amazing."

"I don't know about me, but I'm sure Anna was." Elsa said, laughing in stunned relief. "I had no idea she was going to pick me."

He smiled again, earnestly this time. "I'm not too surprised. You're her sister after all. Everyone knows how close you two are."

Elsa nodded, reflecting that perhaps that really was the case. She was overthinking it. Anna had merely chosen her because they were close and because they were family. There was nothing more to it. They were just sisters.

Recovering from her contemplation, she was able to make out the said girl's face amongst the mass of dancers. Out of sheer luck their eyes met. Anna smiled brightly, and Elsa returned it with a smile of her own. Though truthfully, it was accompanied with a hint of sadness.

"Just sisters."

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

"There you are. I thought you might be out here." Anna came up from behind her.

Elsa was sitting alone in the gardens, away from all the commotion of the party. It was late. She had gotten her fair share of conversations with many of the guests already, and many more dance requests that she had politely turned down.

"Sorry, I just wanted some fresh air."

"No worries." Anna assured her. "It was starting to get a bit stuffy in there anyway."

Elsa chuckled at that. Anna seated herself next to her on the bench. The stars were out that night, bright and quiet. It was quite the spectacle, and both sisters watched on in silent appreciation.

"You were great out there today. Your opening speech was wonderful." She said to break the silence.

"Well, I learned from the best."

Elsa smiled in agreement. "Papa was quite the public speaker, that's for sure."

"I was referring to you, silly."

"Oh."

Anna laughed at Elsa's surprised expression and then proceeded to lean her head onto the blonde's shoulder. Elsa stiffened, but relaxed moments after. It became quiet again. Comfortable, yes, but in Elsa's mind, there was still a certain question that she hadn't quite found the answer to yet.

"Hey Anna."

"Hm?"

She paused, unsure if she really wanted to ask what was on her mind. Staring at their intertwined hands she decided that she should.

"Why did you pick me for the dance?"

This time it was Anna's turn to become silent. All the sounds of the night suddenly seemed to grow in prominence. The chirping of nearby crickets, the echoes of the ballroom, even the small seasonal winds could be heard, all in anticipation to a seemingly fateful answer.

Elsa waited, patiently, until Anna spoke.

"The first dance is supposed to be with the person that you love most right? That's what Mama always told me. I feel like it'd be obvious on who that would be."

The person she loved most?

"T-then why didn't you just ask me beforehand?"

"Ha!" Anna smirked, "If I asked you before, you would've just came up with all sorts of excuses."

Well...she couldn't really disagree with that.

"I guess. I was just...surprised is all." She admitted.

And then quietly, barely above a whisper. So quiet that Elsa almost didn't make it out. Anna said something that made her go still.

"Me too..."

What?

Had she heard that right?

It almost sounded as if...

"Anna-"

"Well!" The girl shot up from the bench. "I better get back to the party before Kai comes to find me. Did you want to come back with me?" Anna asked.

Elsa blinked, caught off guard from being interrupted so abruptly, but she quickly recovered and forced a thin smile. "I think I'll call it a night."

Anna nodded. "I'll see you tomorrow, then?"

Elsa hesitated for a moment, but replied with a nod. Satisfied, Anna smiled softly before turning and making her way back into the castle.

"Anna."

The redhead stopped in her tracks, turning to her with questioning eyes.

"Thank you...for asking me." She said softly. "I…"

She paused, unsure of herself. But steering her resolve, Elsa smiled sincerely.

"I had a lot of fun."

Anna blinked in surprise, and returned her smile with a brighter one.

"Me too."

#elsanna #elsanna fanfiction #elsanna ficlet #frozen #frozen 2

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love-and-monsters · 5 years ago

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Wyvern Prince 13

Hope you’re all hanging in there with the quarantine. Enjoy some more Wyvern Prince in the meantime!

F human X M wyvern, 3027 words

You rose early in the morning and spent a while preparing yourself before you took Davrakoss’ breakfast to him. He was, naturally, still asleep. “Good morning,” you said as you pulled the curtains aside. “You have a meeting with the Queen and her council today about the coming winter and potential hunting allowances.”

He stirred and woke slowly and rather unhappily. You were just happy he seemed too cold and sleepy to talk. It made it easier when you didn’t have to respond to him. Unfortunately, after bathing and getting dressed, he seemed a lot more willing to engage in conversation.

“I hope you’re feeling well this morning,” he said as he sat down to eat. “You seemed a little flustered when you left yesterday.” His brows were pinched with concern. The fact that it seemed genuine rather than just polite made your stomach do an unsettling twist.

“I am fine. I am sorry if I worried you,” you said. Davrakoss looked at you for a moment with his piercing gaze. You smiled and went back to fixing his bed.

He rose after finishing his breakfast and began to prepare to head down to the meeting. You headed over to help him gather his things, but he waved a hand at you dismissively. “Please, don’t bother. I’ve lived in the castle for long enough, I know my way around.” You hesitated, but he pulled the documents away from you and smiled gently. “Finish up here and take a little break. I’ll be all right on my own.”

You dipped your head in a small bow. “If you’re sure.”

With a wave, he was out the door. Given all your practice, you were able to straighten up and clean the room before Davrakoss was back. As you were just straightening up the last book of shelves, you noticed something unusual. It was the closet that you’d noticed when you were first cleaning his room. You’d glanced at it every time you cleaned his room, but it was always locked and sealed with a small chain. It was too far above your pay grade to snoop, not that you really thought you could get into it.

But today was different because the chain wasn’t secured and the lock was loose. The door was still closed securely, but you could have opened it if you wanted.

You hesitated. Part of you was overcome with an immediate surge of curiosity. You did want to know what he was keeping in there. But there was also the likely chance that he had unintentionally left it unlocked and snooping where you didn’t belong was a very quick way to lose your job. Or worse. It was better to leave it alone, you decided. If he wanted you to do anything in there, he would ask.

He returned a little after lunch, looking slightly ruffled, but in an astoundingly good mood. “Did the meeting go well?” you asked as he stacked his books on the table, humming a strange song.

“Oh, the meeting went all right. Not as well as I hoped, but I suppose it could have gone worse.” He shrugged. “The queen wasn’t pleased that I insisted no humans should be allowed to hunt in wyvern lands, but we need to eat too, and we can’t survive on stored grain.”

“I’m glad it went well, then,” you said. “Is there anything else you need me for?”

He shook his head. “No, I think that’s all for today. You can have the rest of the day off if you wish.”

“Are you sure?” you asked. “If there’s anything else you might need-” He cut you off with a wave of his hand.

“No, I’ll be all right on my own. But thank you.” His smiled was particularly warm as he looked at you. “Go on.”

You bowed and exited the room. With your schedule abruptly open, you took a longer-than-usual lunch before returning to your room.

There was an envelope sitting on your bed when you entered. You paused, looking at it uncertainly. It was a slightly off-white color and there was no wax seal or any identification from a sender on it. That was a mild relief- any sort of letter from the royal court would have the sender’s seal and name on it.

You approached the bed and delicately picked it up. It was heavier than you were expecting and there was a bulge in the bottom that wasn’t caused by a simple letter. You undid the flap and opened the envelope.

A necklace fell onto your open palm. It was heavy, and a large emerald pendant shaped like a tree hung from a golden chain. Instinctively, you dropped it onto your bed. Shit.

You looked back at the envelope, but there was no writing, no note, nothing you could use to identify the sender. You looked back at the necklace. It wasn’t a necklace you had seen before, so you didn’t think it was stolen from any of the nobles you worked closely with, but then where? There was no way any of the other servants could have bought it. The chain itself would have taken at least a few months to purchase, and that price would pale in comparison to the price of the pendant itself.

Where the hell did it come from? The envelope suggested it had been left there for you deliberately. Was it intended for someone else? Even if the deliverer had gotten the room wrong, it still would have been intended for another servant. But if you tried to find the recipient and no one else knew, you would certainly be suspected of stealing it. And if someone searched your room and found the necklace, there would be trouble.

After a few moments of considering your options, you shifted your bed a few feet and pried up one of the floorboards. You wrapped the necklace in a scrap cloth and stowed it and the envelope in the floor. It wouldn’t escape a particularly thorough search, but it would at least keep the necklace from prying eyes in the meantime.

It was difficult to sleep that night. You couldn’t stop thinking about the necklace. Frequently, you got out of bed to check that it was still there and you weren’t sure whether you wanted to find it or not. Part of you was sure that it was some attempt at framing you for thievery, but you weren’t sure why. You’d never upset anyone enough that much, had you?

Leaving your room in the morning sparked a whole new host of worries- it was very unlikely any one would find the necklace where you hid it, but you were still terrified that you’d be dragged out and accused of stealing or hiding precious jewels regardless. Your hands shook when you took Davrakoss’ breakfast tray and you stopped several times on the stairs to compose yourself.

He was awake when you entered and apparently hadn’t slept much better than you, if his slightly disheveled state was any indication. When he caught sight of you, he grinned- then frowned, then looked a little confused. You set the tray down and bowed to him, but he kept staring at you as though trying to pluck a thought out of your head.

“Is there something I can do for you?” you asked. He blinked and looked away, then back at you.

“I suppose there isn’t,” he said. He sat down and started to eat, but you were very aware that he was still looking at you. Whenever you tried to catch his gaze again, he would look away, but the tingling feeling of someone’s eyes on the back of your neck would start up again the instant you looked away.

The closet, you noticed, was unlocked again, although you certainly didn’t dare to snoop when Davrakoss was in the room. He seemed to be in a dismal mood as well. He ate only a small portion of his meal and paced restlessly. “Are you sure you don’t need anything?” you asked.

He looked at you for a moment, then gave a forced smile. “I’m all right. I just, ah…” He grabbed a book from the table. “I need to go to the library and look over a few books.”

“Would you like me to assist?” you asked. Davrakoss took a hasty step back toward the door, waving a hand at you.

“No, no, I’ll be quite fine on my own! You can just, ah, stay here. And clean. When you’re done, you can go. I’ll send someone to fetch you if I need you again.” He turned on his heel and was out the door before you could even respond.

It was odd, to say the least. But at least it was easier for you. Not being around him made things easier, at least a little bit.

You returned to your room once you’d cleaned the room as thoroughly as you could. It was pleasant to have some time on your own. You had a needlepoint piece you’d been dying to work on.

It was a pleasant few free hours, but eventually, another servant knocked on your door. “Davrakoss requests that you go to his room.” You put your needlepoint away and headed up the tower.

He wasn’t in his room. Instead, there was a note sitting on the table.

Sara,

I’m afraid I am a bit occupied at the moment. If you would organize the books and my notes together, that would be a great help for me.

Yours,

Davrakoss.

You looked over the stacks of books and notes on the shelf and let out a low sigh. This was going to take a while.

Davrakoss returned before you were halfway through sorting the books. He walked immediately to the bed and collapsed, sinking back into the plush sheets. Despite this exhaustion, there was a peaceful smile on his face.

“Everything all right, sire?” you asked. He smiled at you with such affection in his eyes that your heart pounded.

“Davrakoss,” he corrected. “And yes, I think it is.” He stood up, leaving his books on the bed. “I can help you with that, if you like.”

“That’s not necessary,” you said as Davrakoss walked up beside you. He was close enough that your shoulders were brushing. Your heart slammed against your ribs.

“Nonsense. I should at least know how you’re organizing things.” His hand brushed against yours as he reached for a book on the shelf you had just placed back.

“I can just show you,” you said, carefully stepping away from him. He frowned, but allowed you to set the books back on the shelf with no further interference. His gaze tingled along the back of your neck.

You moved to pick the books up off the bed, but Davrakoss hurriedly blocked them with his body. “Never mind those,” he said gently, ushering you away. “I can handle those by myself.” You dropped the subject. If a noble didn’t want you to look at something, it was best not to look.

“If you wish. Would you like me to bring you dinner?” you asked. Davrakoss shook his head.

“No, no. I’m all right. You can head back to your room. I’ll be fine for the rest of the night.” He gave you a tight smile. You bowed hurriedly and left the room.

There was something waiting for you when you returned to your room. A bolt of deep green fabric lay across the bed. Intricate golden designs were stitched across its length. Your fingers trembled as you gently touched it. It would have taken ages to stitch all the designs across it. It would have been expensive. More expensive than something a servant should own.

You felt cold. Hurriedly, you stowed the fabric under your bed, careful to lay it somewhere it wouldn’t be dirtied. That would only add to your trouble if anyone found it.

Someone was clearly trying to set you up for something. And if they’d visited two days in a row, they would probably visit again. You would just need to catch them.

It was, as it turned out, not terribly difficult to slip away from your duties for an hour or so. Davrakoss left you alone again with an excuse about a private meeting. You were pretty sure he didn’t mean what private meetings among nobles often meant, but you decided not to question him much, just in case he did. You didn’t want to know.

After you were sure Davrakoss had left and wasn’t going to come back and see you gone, you slipped out of his room and headed back to your quarters. There were few other servants around, and all that were there were occupied with their own duties. You walked slowly and unhurriedly toward your room, trying not to look suspicious.

As you stepped into the hall of the servant’s quarters, you saw the hem of a cloak swish out of sight into your room

You took two steps toward your room and froze. Problem: you didn’t know what to do next. If they were armed, they could just kill you. Even if they weren’t, they were taller than you, maybe stronger. Could you follow them unnoticed? Maybe. But you would need to go before they-

The cloaked figure stepped out of your room, saw you standing in the hallway and stopped dead.

If you weren’t already still, the sight of the figure would have startled you into freezing. You recognized the deep green, slightly shimmering cloak wrapped around their shoulders and the wisps of pale blond hair that poked out from under their hood.

Davrakoss shook back his hood. “Sara? What are you doing here?”

You were torn between apologizing and demanding to know why he was in your room. He at least had enough decency to look ashamed. “I apologize for abandoning my duties, sire. I only wanted to see who has been leaving certain items in my room,” you said. The truth seemed like a safe bet.

Apparently it was the right call, because a smile spread over Davrakoss’ face and he gave a quiet laugh. “I know when I’ve been caught,” he said and stepped aside with a gesture for you to enter your room.

You did so, a little uncertainly, and there was an envelope on your bed. This one was significantly more lumpy than the first. A little apprehensive, you picked it up and opened it.

A large, polished green gem fell out onto the bed, as well as a particularly large chunk of what you assumed was solid gold. You glanced back at Davrakoss, who was standing in the doorway, looking at you with an expression of hopeful anticipation.

“Do you like them?” he asked. You looked down at the precious jewel and metal half covered in the sheets of your bed, then looked back at Davrakoss.

“You gave these to me?” you clarified. He nodded. You looked between the gifts and him again. “Why?”

Davrakoss shifted his weight, tail twitching close to his body. “May I sit?” he asked, gesturing to the bed. You nodded and he crossed the room to perch carefully on the edge of your bed. He gestured for you to sit with him and you did so.

“Wyverns typically have large collections of objects we find particularly appealing. They could be as simple as a particularly pretty stone or a nice plant to a work of art. Each horde means something to each wyvern and if you look through the horde, you will know much about the wyvern who has curated it. It is made out of items we have either particular memories associated with or have taken a liking to. Hordes are typically guarded particularly well. It is considered a great embarrassment to have an item from a horde stolen, and managing to steal an item from a horde gives an impressive bargaining chip for the thief.”

Something clicked in your mind. “Your horde is in the locked closet.”

“Yes.” You felt quite glad you had never actually looked inside. You had the impression that could be considered an insult. Davrakoss shifted his weight and licked his lips. “My horde is, I suppose, fairly classic. I like precious metals, gems, particularly nice pieces of craftmanship. I have a few swords, I think, and one or two paintings.” He grinned to himself, then focused again. “But hordes are important to many aspects of our culture, such as we have, anyway. When one wyvern is trying to woo another, it is common to give them gifts from their horde. It’s supposed to be symbolic- if a wyvern’s horde is a representation of their heart, then to give a portion of it to someone, then…” He trailed off. “I suppose the metaphor is rather obvious.”

The shock of his words was so great that you felt as though you’d been temporarily separated from your body. His words echoed in your head like he was speaking from the other end of a tunnel. “You’ve been leaving these gifts for me?” you said, trying to entirely wrap your head around it. “Because you’re trying to woo me?”

He gave a sheepish smile. “Is it working?”

You felt a little bit like you were about to faint. The prince of the wyverns was sitting on your bed, offering you jewelry, expensive fabrics, hunks of gold and gems and telling you he wanted to woo you. It felt a little bit like you were experiencing a very strange dream.

“You don’t have to answer right away,” Davrakoss said. He stood up. “Take the rest of the day off. Think it over. I know this is probably a lot.” He reached down and took your hand in his. Gently, he lifted it to his mouth, brushing his lips against your knuckles. “Good night, Sara. I will see you tomorrow.” His eyes glowed, warm and gentle. A smile graced his lips and he turned and left the room.

You sat on your bed for a while, turning Davrakoss’ gift over and over in your hands.

#exophilia #wyvern prince #wyvern #wyvern boyfriend #monster boyfriend #monster lover #monster x human

140 notes · View notes

writingsbychlo · 5 years ago

Text

holiday parties | dave hodgman

word count; 8239

summary; dave needs saving from some awkward situations at a holiday party, and an old acquaintance might just be able to help out.

notes; this is the new years special for 2019!

warnings; smut.

If there was one thing Dave hated, it was Christmas parties. Dressing up to see the whole family, ridiculous Christmas songs and presents with cheesy decorations. Always being seated at the kids table so the adults could sit around and drink wine, with nobody his age in attendance.

He couldn’t think of anything worse, if he was honest.

That was, until his mother had announced that the block’s annual Christmas party would be gaining a few more guests and a different location. Try forty more guests and a local restaurant. The local block had decided to have a gathering, which came to include the surrounding blocks too. This, in turn, has resulted in someone he didn’t know volunteering their restaurant on Christmas Eve, after it closed for the night, to hold the celebration.

He’d barely been able to hold his tongue through the announcement his mother had made, and he was sure he would bite through it when she’d told him she wanted to host a New Year’s Eve party at their house a week later, too.

And now, he found himself holding a ginger beer, standing near a group of squealing children in an itchy sweater, glaring at the name placements on the table before him. Folded neatly, the white cards sat perfectly central between the cutlery on either side, and he brushed his finger over each one as he wandered along, glancing for his name. He never found it, because he stopped at one name in particular, his eyes narrowing and a deep sigh leaving his body as he gazed at the cursive neatly drawn onto the paper.

‘Aubrey Miller’.

Fan-fucking-tastic. Now, not only was he going to have to spend his Christmas Eve surrounded by strangers he was forced to call neighbours, as if that fact was supposed to make them close, but now he had to spend it with his ex-girlfriend too. He flickered to the next two cards, the names of her parents scrawled onto them, and he ran a hand over his face, shoulders dropping considerably as the night just continued to get worse and worse.

Two children dashed past his feet rapidly in a game of tag, loud giggles and shouts penetrating the air along with the rest, barely giving him a chance to move out of the way and he growled lowly beneath his breath, before continuing his journey and finding his seat. Before he could take his seat and pull out his phone, his mother had looped her arm through his, a wide grin on her face as she spoke too quickly about people she wanted to introduce him to, the last remnants of a red wine in her glass and from her slight wobble when taking steps, and her overly joyful manner, he wondered just which number this was.

He was paraded from group to group, being commented on as a lovely young man, before being all but interrogated by them on college plans, girlfriend and aspirations, all the things he could barely answer to his own family, never mind random families that lived three blocks away. He was about ready to fake sick, ready just stick his own fingers down his throat and call it a night when his mother’s cheering brought him out of his sulking. He was sure he’d met everybody at the party by now, he wasn’t sure how many people could possibly still need to arrive due to the mass numbers currently filling the room, but the loud greetings and slight chill that swept through the room told him otherwise, and he caught sight of his mom dashing from his side to meet guests he didn’t recognise.

As the two parents parted, you stepped in, avoiding his mother embracing yours as you let the red winter coat slide delicately down your arms, hanging it up on the overloaded hooks and smoothing out your skirt. The warm looking scarf that had hung daintily around your neck followed, and you shook loose soft curls that had been trapped beneath it

He should’ve looked away, moved, done anything, but he couldn’t. The knitted white Christmas jumper sat on your shoulders brought a small smile to his lips, the cheesy slogan across the front almost had a laugh falling from his lips, yet your jumper looked soft, not itchy and irritating on the skin like his was. The deep red skirt flaring out from your hips was slightly shorter than would be deemed appropriate for a family party, but then, he supposed this wasn’t exactly a family party. Your legs went on for days, smooth and soft, he could tell even from here as you stood perfectly balanced in a pair of heels.

He exhaled, shaking his head as he dragged his eyes back up your body, his heart leaping into his throat as his eyes widened when they locked on yours, lips painted the same shade as your skirt now curled up in a coy smile and he knew you’d caught him checking you out. A deep blush painted his cheeks, and he was sure you could hear his heart beating aggressively against his ribs as you took your first steps towards him.

Before he had a chance to run, dash away or form an excuse, you’d carried yourself over to him, stopping before the boy, and smiling teasingly as you held your hands behind your back, glancing up at him through your lashes. “Oh, come on now, Hodgman..” his breath was all but forced from your lungs as he looked down at you, words dripping from your lips like honey, his name sounding perfect on your tongue and his lips twitched up into a small smile, but his eyebrows furrowed. He let his gaze roam over your features once, twice, still not a clue who he was looking at, but something was oh so familiar. It was eating away at him, almost painfully. “Don’t break my heart, and tell me you’ve forgotten being my first kiss under the apple tree in fifth grade. That would just.. crush me.”

Your words were teasing, but his eyes widened, jaw dropping slightly as he looked at you. “(Y/N)? (Y/N) (Y/L/N)? No way..” He laughed, licking his lips as you nodded, holding your hands out and doing a little twirl for him.

“The one and only.”

“I haven’t seen you since elementary school, I didn’t know you even still lived here! I thought you moved away!” You merely hummed, glancing around as you focused back on him.

“I did! I went to stay with my aunt for a few years in Europe, and I came back around Sophomore year.” You confided and he grinned, nodding and holding his arms out for you. Accepting the hug, you happily fell into his warmth, a laugh leaving your own lips as his arms wrapped around you, your chin tucked on his shoulder as his face buried in your hair. You stepped back, his hands still sitting on your waist loosely as he looked down at you.

He opened his mouth, ready to speak when his eyes left yours, focusing on someone over your shoulder, and you watched the joy fall from his features. Taking a glance for yourself, you saw a small family enter, the girl whom you assumed was the one who’d caught his attention already looking him, making her way over.

The boy she’d brought followed her, and you felt him go rigid beneath your touch as she made her way over. Concern filled you as you took his chin between your fingers, pulling his gaze back down to yours. “Dave, are you okay?”

Before he had a chance to answer, however, the girl had approached, a heavier set of feet falling behind her and you turned, finding yourself at Dave’s side as you looked at the girl before you. She was pretty, no doubt, a pair of tall heels on her feet as she beamed at the pair of you, the wide smile that seemed a little too jovial beginning to irk you already. To your surprise, her gaze was focused on you, and you quirked an eyebrow at her, smiling politely in return.

“You’re (Y/N), right?” She stuck her hand out before you, and you slipped your hand into hers, shaking it with a nod, clearing your throat. “I’m a junior at East, with you.” She beamed, and you could feel Dave’s eyes on you as he looked down at you.

“Oh, right! I don’t know your name, I’m sorry.” Her façade didn’t falter, but you didn’t miss the minuscule smile that curled on Dave’s lips at the words when you glanced up at him, his own eyes fixed on the floor between the four of you. Looking between the blonde before you and the man by your side, you could feel tension hanging thickly in the air. She must be an ex.

“I’m Aubrey, and that’s okay! You’re in the year above, I didn’t expect you to! And Dave! How is it you know the girl that gave the most moving debate speech on climate change in relation to political ignorance?” She joked, your eyes widening as she spoke, a small laugh falling from your lips.

“You remember that speech?” You teased and she nodded, continuing her overly preppy attitude as she spoke to you.

“Of course, it was fantastic!” You hummed, the back of your hand brushing against Dave’s and you took a leap, lacing his fingers with your own, feeling his palm squeeze against yours, a sigh being exhaled from him in response. His fingers adjusted against yours, holding your hand in his tighter and you could feel the slight nervous shake he was letting off, the tremble in his hand.

“Thank you. And, who’s this?” You motioned to the man standing with his arm slung over Aubrey’s shoulder, doing nothing to hide his disinterest in the conversation and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes, finding him incredibly rude already.

“Ronny!”

“Ronny.”

Oh, definitely an ex.

Both Dave and Aubrey spoke at once, and you cleared your throat, the awkwardness of the situation almost stifling, and the man seemed to zone back in at the mention of his name, catching your eye and merely nodded in acknowledgement. Silence settled over the four of you, and you could feel the heat of embarrassment radiating off of Dave, the girl not yet catching the hint to leave, clearly making an exaggerated effort in which to stay and chat. “I hope we weren’t interrupting anything! You guys were chatting before we came over. You’re the only other ones our age here, and heaven knows I cannot handle middle age small talk. What were you talking about?” She meant the words as a joke, but you merely hummed, looking up to Dave as a cheeky smile pulled at your lips.

You wrapped an arm around his waist, his body jumping at the contact as you did so, resting your head lightly on his shoulder and he looked down at you, but your eyes focused on his ex-girlfriend. He opened his mouth to speak, but you beat him to words. “We were just talking about our first kiss.” He all but choked on his breath, Aubrey’s eyes widening and you looked up to the boy, rounding in front of him as he looked down at you. “You okay, sweetie? Why don’t you go and grab some water, I’ll meet you in a minute.” Before he could function, you leaned up, lips pressing to his cheek and he could feel your smirk pressed to his skin.

The smell of your perfume filling his nostrils, one hand still linked with yours as the other found your waist on instinct, and your smile widened against his cheek when he did, a similar grin pulling on his own features as he got a surge of confidence. “That’ll be great, I'm sure we’ll be eating soon. Do you want a glass too, pumpkin?”

You seemed to contemplate it, nodding, your back still turned to the other couple and he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your hairline before leaving, not without missing the mischievous glint in your eye, his own reciprocating it. As you turned back to the couple before you, a polite look still rested on Aubrey’s features, but you could tell she had been bothered by the way you had acted with Dave, and the thought only brought you satisfaction.

Before you could open your mouth and attempt to fill the heavy and uncomfortable silence, your mother had found your arm again, tugging you towards your seat and telling you that it was time to eat. The adults table had been placed as one long row, at least twenty seats along each side, with name tags displayed delicately over the plates, cutlery and glasses for each guest also displayed, with baskets of bread along the centres of the tables.

Behind him, sat five kids tables, all split up to keep them quieter, with crayons and plastic cups set out, jugs of flavoured squash sitting in the middle of their tables. You had been seated between your mother and father, who were already chatting to the older couple who were taking their seats across from you, and you tuned out of their conversation, watching as everyone bustled around you.

“Elbows off the table, sweetheart.” Your mother nudged your arm, your chin falling from its perch on your hand as she did so and you scowled, rolling your eyes at her. She leaned in closer to you, nodding towards a small commotion at the other end of the table and you glanced over, your eyes catching sight of Dave as he kept his head down, playing with the edge of the table cloth.

Apparently, the date ‘Aubrey’ had brought, wasn’t RSVP’d, and so there was one too few seats at the table for him, Dave’s mom and Aubrey’s mom fussing together to try and sort it out. Frankly, you were on the verge of laughing, clearly the man would have to leave, and it was rather entertaining, if you did admit it to yourself.

That was, until Dave’s mom volunteered him to move, claiming he wouldn’t mind at all. The boy had practically given you whiplash with how fast he had glanced up, eyes wide and jaw slack as he tried to find some kind of argument without seeming like he was being petty. He had barely even stood up to talk to his mother when Ronny had slid into his seat, the last few moving around as Aubrey cuddled into the man’s arm.

With your bottom lip clenched between your teeth, you watched in dismay as a very red-faced Dave trudged over to sit beside his little sister, wincing when she threw her arms around his neck and squealed happily in his ear. Shaking your head, you glanced back to the couple who had moved him, your jaw clenched as you pushed your own seat out.

With a smile, you made your way over to the server behind the wine table, taking two glasses and a bottle of red from his display, before following the steps of the boy before you. Pulling out the empty chair beside him, you sat at the circular table and placed his glass in front of him, his eyes roaming up to meet yours as you sat down, his eyebrows raised.

“What are you doing?”

“What? You think I was going to let you come and sit at the kid’s table all alone, Hodgman?” You teased him, ignoring the burning gaze of your mother on the back of your head as you twisted the screw in the top of the bottle, a small pop sounding as it released.

“Your mom is staring at you. She looks angry.” He was concerned, but a smile was pulling at his lips as he watched you take his glass, pouring him a large serving of wine, before doing the same for yourself.

“My mom has been giving me that look my whole life. She doesn’t like that I don’t play by her rules.” You joked, tucking the bottle of wine between the two of your chairs to keep it away from the children, Dave’s sister leaning over to try and grab for the glass.

“I want to try it!” She beamed, a laugh falling from your lips as he barely grabbed the glass to keep it away from her, holding it out of arms’ reach.

“That is a big girl’s drink!” You joked, and her eyes found yours, narrowing as she scoped you out.

“I am a big girl.” She defended, crossing her arms as she looked at you, and you leaned forward towards her.

“I can see that, look at your necklace; even I don’t have one that fancy.”

Her face practically lit up as she reached up to grasp at the plastic beads sitting around her neck loosely. “They’re pearls! Like the Queen has!” Her little arm shot out with a fist at the end to show you the oversized bracelet she also wore. “Look! They match!”

“You know, I have a set that matches just like that, except they’re pink pearls. You can have them, they’d look better on you, anyway.” Her eyes widened her head turning to look at her brother as she flashed him a toothy and slightly patchy smile, his eyes already on you as her little hand slapped at his shoulder excitedly.

“Did you hear that, Davie?” He nodded, smiling at her as she turned back to you, her hand held out formally. “I’m Stella, and we can be friends.”

You couldn’t stop the laugh you let out, she was adorable, and you took her hand in yours, shaking it gently. “Well, I’m (Y/N), and I would love to be your friend, Stella.” As your hand retracted, the waiters began placing the food down for the kids around the table. You finally turned to look back at Dave, his gaze already on you as you rose your glass to your lips. “What?”

“Nothing, I’ve just never seen Stella take to anyone quite that fast before.” You winked at him, thanking the waiters as they delivered your meals to your new seats instead of your old ones.

“Well, I think I bought her friendship there. It was more like a trade, and besides, her brother was also pretty fond of me too at that age, if I remember correctly.” His cheeks heated up slightly, and he glanced away, the boy before you flustered, but he forced himself to meet your eyes once again. “He’s pretty fond of you at this age, too.”

It was your turn to be surprised, and a little shocked, your jaw dropping slightly, and you smirked, your hand sliding to his across the table as you linked your fingers with his. “Yeah, well, I’m pretty fond of him, too.”

That was the edge for Dave. His mouth was dry, his throat felt scratchy and his heart was beating rapidly in his chest, but despite all the worry, he still felt calm around you, something he had never felt with Aubrey. He gulped down half of the contents of his glass, your fingers slipping from his to pick up your cutlery, and he instantly missed the warmth your hand provided.

He gazed at you, watching as you nibbled on your bottom lip delicately in concentration as you cut at the meat on your plate, his lips tugging up at the side as the cute way you focused. A little hand wrapped around his wrist, shaking his arm and snapping him from his gaze as he turned to look at his sister, her eyebrows raised and a knowing smile on her lips as she looked at him.

“What?!”

“You know!” She mumbled, and he frowned, shaking his head as she held let it go, looking up to you as she held her cutlery out to him, letting him cut her food up for her. Leaning in, she rested her head on his shoulder, snuggling into her older brother. “I like her more than Aubrey, by the way!” Despite how much she had tried to whisper, he didn’t miss the way your lips twisted into a smile as you chewed your food, not looking at either of them.

The meal was incredible, dessert being served soon after, and now you were laying slouched in your seat, giggling happily with Dave as your join hands sat between the two of you, hanging in the barely existent gap between your two chairs over an empty bottle of wine, another one well on the way to being finished.

Stella sat on your knee, balanced happily facing you as she brushed at your hair in tiny sections with the miniature brush she had brought in her fake clutch, braiding and unbraiding section of your hair. Everything was going incredibly, smooth and happy, until the vacated chairs of children who had long since left were filled by none other than the couple who had caused the two of you to be sitting in the children's section in the first place.

Glancing at you both, she looked at you intently, before plastering a fake smile on her features and leaning forwards, a glass balanced in her hand, ice clinking against the edges. “Hey, Stella. I haven’t seen you in a while!”

The young girl shifted on your knee, releasing her grip on your hair and instead settling to lean back against you, the force of her sudden fallback winding you slightly, and you felt Dave’s grip on your hand tighten, his palm getting sweaty as he panicked. “Hi Audrey!” You had to stifle your laugh as she spoke the wrong name, knowing she knew the right one and chose not to say it. She was small, but she was feisty. “Dave, can I go play? I don’t like big kid chat.”

“Of course, Stell, but stay where I can see you, okay?” She beamed, hopping down from your lap and reaching for her bag, taking yours by mistake, before running over to one of the nearby tables.

“Stella took the wrong bag, I’m going to take her the right one, I’ll be right back, okay?” You stood up, your hand finding Dave’s cheeks as his eyes widened at the idea you’d be leaving him alone with them both, but before you could, the young girl had coming dashing back over, taking the item from your hands and returning to her table. “Well, I guess that takes care of that.”

Instead of sitting back in your chair, you twisted yourself, letting your hand slip from his cheek to his shoulder, sitting across his lap and leaning against him comfortably. You placed a kiss to his cheek, raising a subtle eyebrow in challenge as you turned back to face the couple.

You were caught off-guard, however, when the boy nuzzled his nose against your cheek, leaving a nervous kiss there, too. His arm slipped up around your waist when you didn’t pull away or shift, instead letting him pull you even closer in his lap. “So, you haven’t told us how you met, yet?” Aubrey tried, and you placed a hand on Dave’s chest, laughing as you turned to look at him, flipping your hair over your shoulder.

“Oh, it really isn’t that special. We went to elementary school together, and he’s still just as cute as the day I met him, I promise you. How did you meet my Davie, Aubrey?” Your tone was dripping with sweetness, but Dave pressed his face into your shoulder to stop himself from laughing out loud as he picked up on the hostilities in your words that she clearly hadn’t seemed to gather yet.

“It might be a little awkward, Ronnie here knows, but-”

“We met at a party, sweetheart. Nothing overly exciting, total accident, actually. I was outside… about to text you at the time.” He hadn’t told a total lie. He had been outside, once again staring at your recent picture on Instagram as he considered reaching out to say ‘hey’ to you, when he’d bumped into Aubrey.

“Well, after that we sort of-”

“We hung out a bit, but we fell out of touch, I guess.” Dave cut her off once again, and you were chewing your bottom lip to stop yourself from laughing. Of course, he’d told you the real story of how the two of them had dated and broken up, and after a few drinks he’d even spilled about the awkward night they’d shared that lead to their break up, the two of you laughing over what happened.

“Is that all? That is such a shame. There’s just so much about Dave to love. You really missed out!” Your voice only got higher, your hand slipping up to play with the short hairs on the back of Dave’s head. Glancing up, you could see your mother beginning to gather up her coat, and you cleared your throat, turning back to the boy before you. “Looks like it’s time for me to go.”

“You’re leaving, already?” The voice was sickly sweet, clearly she’d been catching on and you turned to look at her, hopping up from Dave’s lap. He stood up too, hands on your waist as he stood closely behind you. The girl rounded the table as you held your hand out towards her, but she pulled you into a loose hug, your chin perched awkwardly on your shoulder as you patted her back gently.

When she released you from the hug, she nodded, and you stepped backwards, back meeting Dave’s chest and his arm slipped cautiously and protectively around your waist, both of you shocked by her reaction.

“We should talk politics sometime. Without the boys, I’ll message you on Facebook, or something?” You merely nodded, before she turned, taking Ronnie with her and dragging him back across the room to their seat. You turned, gaze finding Dave’s as his face cracked into a smile, followed by a loud laugh as you buried your face in his chest, groaning loudly in aggravation.

“Stop laughing, it’s not funny!”

“You made a new friend! Your biggest fan is going to be your bestie!” He teased, hands smoothing up your arms to your shoulders as he pushed you backwards slightly. “I’ll get your coat for you, you might want to round up all your belongings from Stella.” His head tilted in the direction of the young girl, who had lined up all the things from your purse next to hers to compare them.

He left, and you made your way over to the young girl, laughing as she inspected the colour of your lipstick. “Hey, Stell, I’ll teach you how to wear that best when you’re a little bit older!” She gasped happily, putting the lid back on and handing it over to you. Gently, you repacked your clutch as the child did the same. “Go grab your coat, it’ll be home time for you in a minute!”

“Are you going home now?”

“I am, but I’ll see you real soon for your New Year’s party, okay?” She nodded enthusiastically, little arms wrapping around your waist as her face buried in your stomach, and you stroked her hair gently. Dave made his way over, eyes watching the way you interacted with his little sister before she ran off, your coat and scarf tucked over his arm.

Lifting the soft cotton scarf, he threaded it over your head, pulling you closer to him as he weaved it into a loose knot, his breath fanning gently against your face. Rounding your body with the coat, you swallowed thickly as he tugged it up your shoulders, your arms slipping through the sleeves. Pulling it tightly around you, he fastened the belt loosely, his fingers lingering before he finally let go. “Okay, well, I guess I’m going.. I’ll call you or something, okay?” He nodded, continuing to stare at you, and you let yourself hold his gaze for a second before slipping your bag up onto your shoulder, taking a step backwards.

“I’ll walk you to the door.” You merely hummed in response, the back of his hand brushing against yours as you walked to the door, your parents already stepping out. They were deep in conversation, breath creating clouds in the cloud air as they chatted happily while walking away down the road. “I’ll.. be hearing from you, then?”

“For sure! Bye, Dave. Thank you for a great night.”

“I should be thanking you. You saved me, so many times, and you not only made the night bearable, but you made it fun.”

“I like this Dave. The flirty Dave.” It was a joke, but you meant it, the two of you laughing softly at your comment.

“Flirty Dave is just a side effect of drunk Dave.” You leaned up, pressing a kiss to his cheek before stepping away, waving slightly and turning your back to him.

He watched you walk a few steps, hands pushed into his pockets as he sighed out. Just as he made to turn, you glanced over your shoulder, your eyes connecting with his again and he smiled, your movements halting. Taking a look at your parents and seeing them continuing to stagger off into the distance, you turned, moving as fast as you could on your heels back towards Dave, your body crashing into his as you leaned up, lips meeting his softly and a surprised moan fell from his lips as you did.

He tugged his hands from his pockets, gripping your waist tightly as your arms wrapped around his neck. His lips moved against yours, and you let yourself be pulled up against him as your head tilted to the side, lips moving against his with more fervour. One of his hands left your waist, inching up your back slowly to thread into your hair as his tongue traced your lip.

With a tiny moan, you parted your lips for him, his tongue meeting yours in a gentle play as he teased you, your body turning weak in his arms as his fingers played and tugged at strands of your hair. When he finally pulled away, red lipstick was smudged onto his lips, a weak laugh leaving him into the air as he lifted his thumb, wiping around your mouth to clear it for you before rubbing the back of his hand across his own mouth.

Your lips were swollen, your chest rising and falling slightly quicker as you panted a little, wobbling in your slightly intoxicated and dazed state. “I really have to go now.” You stepped back, a dopey look on his features as he watched you go.

“Call me!”

“Definitely!”

You hadn’t called, and Dave was upset about it. That is why he could be found sulking with a drink in his hand in a corner of his house as guests mingled around him, the music loud as people came and went, never giving him any quiet.

It had been eight days, and he was sure you felt the same, but you hadn’t reached out to him in any way, and he was a little moody about it. It didn’t help that Stella had done her whole look tonight based on what she thought you would like, and she wouldn’t stop talking about how much she liked you since she met you that night.

Yeah, Dave really liked you too, but hearing about you wasn’t helping.

Music was blaring around him, his hand practically shaking as the bass boomed through the house, and he shifted his shoulder against the wall, eyes scanning over the people walking up to the door, his eyes rolling inadvertently as he realised who he was looking at. Of course, his mom had invited Aubrey and her family to this party, too.

They were making their way up to the door, and he glanced around for an exit route, but he couldn’t find one and she’d already locked her eyes onto him, the girl making her way over with her usual dumb, six foot accessory.

“Hey, Dave! It was so nice of your mom to invite us!” He merely hummed in reply, raising his glass to his lips. The liquid burned his throat as he swigged it, but he needed to be far more drunk if he was going to deal with this all night, alone.

“Yeah, she just surprised us all with that!” He couldn’t help the flat tone of his voice, and he held up his empty glass, with what could only be described as a grimace on his lips. “I’m going to go and find a refill.”

“Oh! Me and Ronnie haven’t got any drinks, we’ll come with!” The blonde all but cheered, looping her arm through her boyfriend’s and tugging them along as Dave paced through his house.

“Of course you will.”

He’d barely made it to the corridor before the question he knew was coming made its appearance already; “So, where’s that chick from the other night?”

“Ron!” Aubrey nudged her elbow into his stomach as Dave stopped in his tracks, eyes squeezing shut before he turned around to face the two waiting on his answer. “Where is (Y/N)? I was so hoping she’d be here tonight, I was looking forward to talking to her some more!”

“Well, the thing is.. She- um, she’s not-”

“I am so sorry I’m late, baby!” Like a saving grace, you broke through his stuttering, your hand sliding up his arm to sit on the back of his neck as your body suddenly fell flush against his side, warm and comforting, the scent of your perfume filling his nose. “I just could not find the skirt I wanted to wear, so I settled on this one. It’s still cute, right?”

Dave made the huge mistake of glancing down, the hem of the very short skirt was sitting perfectly against the skin of your thigh, your leg bent and curled around his as your cheek rested on his shoulder. Heat flooded his body, and he cleared his throat, feeling like he was choking on his breath. “Ve- Very cute, very nice. I like it.”

“Aubrey! It’s just.. so lovely to see you again. If you guys are on your way to get drinks, could you get me one? You are just an angel, thank you!” The girl nodded happily, the pair leaving and you stepped back from Dave, straightening out your outfit and he glanced down at you.

“I didn’t think you were coming?”

“Of course I was! I told you I wanted to see you again, I said I would be here, and here I am!” You were practically beaming at him, your makeup and hair softer than it had been for the Christmas party, and he couldn’t help but notice how fucking adorable you looked.

“You never called, or anything, so I wasn’t sure if you were.. interested.” He wanted to kick himself for sounding as pathetic as he did, but it hurt him, and it was pretty obvious in his voice. Your fingers laced through his lightly, his gaze locked on the floor between you both as you tugged him closer to you.

“My family came down to surprise us on Christmas day. My aunt had twins two months ago, and I have four other cousins. It’s been crazy, I haven’t had a second free. They left about two hours ago.”

“It’s okay, honestly. You really don’t owe me an explanation.” He felt stupid, and embarrassed, but you were still helping him out, so even if you weren’t as into him as he was into you, you were still lovely, and he would love to still be your friend. Dragging your hand up his chest, your fingers wrapped around his neck, his gaze snapping up to your face. Your breaths were mingling, your eyes closed, lashes fluttering against his cheek softly as your lips barely brushed together.

“You gonna kiss me or not, Hodgman?”

“Mhm..” When he finally closed the gap, he felt like you’d taken his breath away, your lips moving softly against his, just like they had the week prior. His hands gripped at your waist tightly, fingertips pushing into your skin, your hands holding the sides of his face tightly. His nose bumped yours to the side, tongue tracing the seam of your lips.

Parting them for him, his tongue met yours, playing teasingly as his hands slipped lower on your waist, palming at your ass, his fingers brushing the hem of your skirt and tracing the skin of your thighs. “This skirt is fucking hot.”

He was panting, hot breath fanning over your skin and you grinned, flipping your hair back over your shoulder. As your head tilted back, Dave took the opportunity, diving forwards to place a wet kiss on the underside of your jaw, a squeal leaving you as you giggled, hands gripping tightly onto him as his hands slid back up to your waist, holding you tightly to him.

He pressed small kisses along your jaw, tracing your throat with his lips lightly as your breath became shallower and shallower, before you pushed away from him, coughing nervously as your hand found his. “Let’s go to your room, yeah?”

“Oh fuck.. yes. Definitely.” He let you tug him away towards the door, his arm wrapping around your shoulder as you bounded up the stairs, a groan falling from behind you. “Your ass really bounces in that skirt.”

“You have a dirty mouth, Hodgman. I like it.”

His hand landed on your ass in a light slap, a yelp leaving your lips. The walls were still buzzing as the music and noise from downstairs was just as loud up here, and your fingers wrapped around the handle of the door of the room belonging to Dave. Twisting it open, you stumbled inside, the heels on your feet being rapidly kicked off and discarded, the carpet soft under your skin as the boy continued to press hot kisses to your lips, sucking your breath from you with each one as your head spun.

You fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, his foot kicking the door shut behind him, one hand leaving your waist momentarily to slide the lock on his door across, and you finally got the buttons undone, pushing the shirt from his shoulders as it slipped down his arms. Breaking, you gasped for air, lips swollen as you took in the sight before you. Dark moles were speckled across his skin infrequently, dark hairs on his stomach trailing down to below the waistline of his jeans as the toned muscle flexed when he shifted his hold on you.

“This is unfair. I think you’re a little too dressed, still.” His comment drew a laugh from you, your touch pulling away from him as you tugged your shirt up and over your head, breasts swelling in the bra you wore as lace decorated your skin, a moan sounding in your ears as the material joined the growing pile on the floor. “Fuck, you have perfect tits.”

You could feel his hands twitching on your waist, gripping at your flesh tighter as he licked his lips and you reached behind yourself, undoing the clasp and letting it fall away, his breath hitching. Sliding his hand up from your waist, the rough skin dragged slowly across your smooth flesh, cupping a mound between his fingers and squeezing gently. Swiping the pad of his thumb across an already hardened nipple, a moan fell from your lips, your eyes sliding shut and head tilting back.

Your back arched, pushing your chest further into his hand and something in him snapped, a growl sounding in his throat as he spun you around, pulling you backwards and up against him roughly, one hand gripping tightly at your boob as the other pushed under the band of your skirt, toying with the elastic of your panties.

“Stop teasing me, Dave. Show me what you’ve got, huh? Show me how you really fuck.” Your words only gave him the permission he needed, his mouth sucking purple marks into your skin as he swiped through your folds, a single digit pushing into you tentatively. You clenched around him, shallow panting leaving you as your head rolled back onto his shoulder.

“Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you. Just tell me how to please you, princess.” His voice was deeper, slightly raspy as he spoke into your ear, teeth nibbling on the lobe slightly, and a second finger joined the first, curling against your walls before setting a slow pace. You were writhing in his arms, his pace slow and torturous, a whine falling from your lips when he tutted in your ear. “Use your words, baby.”

“I want you to pick up the pace. I don’t want it soft Dave, I want you to fuck me. You can feel how wet you make me, I want you to do something about it. I need you. You can do anything you want, just fuck me!” Your hips were rocking down into his hand, his other hand slipping up to your throat to rest there lightly as his hand picked up the pace, fingers suddenly slamming in and out of you and a scream almost tore from your lips.

“Like this? You want it fast and hard, princess? I can give you that, but you have to be quiet for me.” Wet sounds filled the room as he fucked you with his fingers, scissoring them and stretching you out, pads of his fingers rubbing against your walls and you but down harshly on your lip to hold in the loud sounds you wanted to release. “Gonna’ fuck you so good. God, this little skirt is driving me insane, but that was your plan, wasn’t it? Get me all riled up.”

“W-Wanted you to think I was p-pretty.” Your words were mumbled and slurred as you spoke, a cry leaving your lips as his thumb flicked up to play with your clit, his pace holding strong and the coil in your stomach tightened, muscles clenching and legs shaking, his hushing sounding in your ear. The hand from your throat moved up, two fingers slipping into your mouth and you clamped your lips around them, sucking on them with a hum as he groaned, your noises effectively muffled. Your tongue swirled around his fingers, the digits soaking by the time your jaw finally fell slack, eyes rolling back as your jaw dropped in silent screams, your juices flowing along his fingers as you came.

You were twitching in his grasp, his fingers still pumping but slowing their pace as he dragged your orgasm out for all he could get, before finally pulling his fingers from your underwear and sticking them into his own mouth with a sound of satisfaction. When you faced him, his eyes were hooded, dark with lust as he watched you with a smirk on his face as he cleaned his fingers.

“Anything I want, huh?”

“Hmm, what?” Your head was still cloudy, a dopey smile on your lips as you reached out for his hands to steady yourself.

“You said, I can have you any way I want. You still up for that, princess?” A beam broke out on your features and you nodded rapidly, pulling him backwards towards the still pristine bed.

“God, yes, please. How do you want me?”

“Face down, ass up. Show me that pretty pussy, huh?” His words had your knees shaking, and you tugged at the skirt around your waist, dropping it to the floor, your panties quickly following.

“I change my mind. Flirty Dave is my second favourite, dirty Dave is my favourite.” A chuckle left his lips as you turned, crawling up onto the bed and leaning on your elbows, your forehead resting against the covers. Your skin was flushed, a sheen of sweat covering you as jeans rustled behind you. A hand landed harshly on your ass, a yelp leaving your lips, but it quickly morphed into a moan as his tip pushed along your folds, your body pushing back against him, pussy dripping with anticipation.

“Keep quiet, princess.” With that the boy slammed himself forwards, and you screamed into the covers, your fingers tightening in the sheets as you tried to form fists. He let you adjust, a drawn out moan leaving your lips, as you clenched around him, walls fluttering. “God, you’re so tight.”

“You’re just fucking huge.” You grumbled, a laugh leaving his lips, hand palming at your ass as he pulled back slowly, easing into you as he slowly picked up the pace. His cock was dragging against every inch of your walls, your juices running down your legs each time he pulled out. With a tight grip on your waist, he picked up the pace, his cock slamming in and out of you, nails digging into you as skin slapped against skin.

“F-Fuck, princess.” His hand smoothed along your back, pushing against your shoulder as he hunched over you, the new angle allowing him to hit spots that made you see stars. You could barely breathe, with the way he was slamming into you, cock pressing into spots you had never been touched before, the way he was stretching you had your eyes rolling back.

Your jaw ached, mouth slack as you moaned and screamed into the covers, your body shaking and walls tightening around him as you drew closer and closer to another climax. His hand slipped into your hair, pulling your head up and letting the sounds bounce off of the walls of his room. “Let me hear you, now, princess.”

“God, Dave! Feels so good. So, so good.” You were pleading with him, your hips slamming back into his as fire curled up in your belly, your cries sounding loudly in the empty room, your name falling from his lips like a prayer, accompanied by grunts and moans. The minute he pulled you up, hand slipping around to play with your clit, you were gone. Sent spiralling over the edge, you spasmed in his arms with a long scream of his name as you came. Frantic chants of your own echoed in your ear as he fucked you through your release, your walls hugging him so tightly he could barely move.

He pulled out, hand moving over himself barely thrice before he spilled onto your back, cum painting your skin and dripping along his fingers as he came with a shout, chest rising and falling quickly as he tried to catch his breath. You lay on your stomach, legs still twitching and head rested on your folded arms as he grabbed the closest item on the floor, your skirt, and wiped your skin and his hand down, before settling in next to you.

He turned to look at you, a faint smile on his face as he brushed some hair back from your sight, slightly sweaty and sticking to your skin. “I’ll tell you one thing, Dave. I promise it was not you that was bad in bed. I have never been fucked that good.” He merely stared at you for a moment before letting out a deep laugh, eyes closing and hand clutching at his stomach.

“Please, don’t tell me you’re thinking about my ex after I just fucked you like that.”

“God, all I’m thinking about is you, Hodgman. I promise.” You leaned forwards, your lips brushing against his, barely touching before you jumped back, bright colours lighting up the room as loud sounds of explosions followed, the fireworks beginning. With a gasp, you rolled from his grasp, ignoring the whine and puckered lips you left as you grabbed his button up from the floor, pulling it over yourself and fastening just enough buttons to cover what mattered, before dashing to the window.

He soon followed, the elastic of his boxers snapping against his skin as his arms wrapped around your waist, a kiss being pressed to your shoulder through the material. “Happy New Year’s, princess.”

Turning to look at him, you pulled his lips down to meet yours in a soft and gentle kiss, both of you smiling into the exchange. “Happy New Year’s, Davie.” His grip around you tightened, chin resting on your shoulder as you both watched the fireworks display his parents were setting off in the garden, colours lighting up the room, dancing across the dark sky as you snuggled into the man behind you. “Here’s to new beginnings with old friends.”

“Oh, I think we’re more than friends, by now. Don’t you?” He punctuated his sentence by nipping at your jaw lightly, pulling you away from passing stares and into the room as his fingers undid the buttons on the shirt, his legs hitting the back of his bed as you both tumbled back in a fit of giggles, his hands smoothing up your skin. “You’re all mine.”

“All yours, Hodgman.” You confirmed, letting him strip you of the garment once again, rolling you onto your back as he hovered over you, eyes scanning along your form, lustfully.

“Happy New Year’s to me.”

#dave hodgman #dave hodgman/reader #dave hodgman x reader #dave x reader smut #dave smut #dave hodgeman #dave/reader #dylan o'brien the first time #dylan obrien the first time #the first time #new years 2019 #new years special 2019 #new years special

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seoulnotes · 5 years ago

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Luce in altis | ix. A Familiar Face

S Y N O P S I S | Passed down from centuries worth of history, the remnants of a hatred between two kings reside in a small village that serves as a border between their two feuding kingdoms. y/n lives in that village and must seek aid from one of the kings. Her trust is tested when she learns of the king that is truly wicked.

C H A R A C T E R S | Kim Taehyung, Park Jimin, reader (y/n) ; (mentions of other members)

G E N R E | fantasy, romance, drama — royalty au ; PG-15

W A R N I N G S (chapter specific) | none

W O R D C O U N T | 4.8k

All parts here

⇠ prev. (viii) | next (x) ⇢

The following afternoon as Isobel had said, a seamstress arrived at the palace. She had brought many samples of fabrics with many colors and patterns.

I spent hours with the seamstress, instructed to stand still for some time while my measurements were taken and then picked different fabrics for tunics, trousers, dresses, and on and on.

My eyes landed onto a certain sheet of fabric that was brought by the seamstress. Flowers were embroidered onto the gray tulle but only along the bottom as if fading away towards the top. Unconsciously, my fingers rose to graze the fabric, taking in the texture of the flowers with their beadings that stood out amongst the tulle.

“My lady, do you like the fabric? It is more elaborate; we don’t usually use it for day dresses,” she explained.

“No, it’s fine, I was just looking.” It would be ridiculous to have any plain day dresses made from that fabric and it looked too expensive to just simply waste for that.

“I’m finished for today. Since we spent enough time gathering your measurements, the styles you prefer, and the fabrics, as the pieces finish, they will be sent to the palace.” She bowed and began to pack her sketches and fabrics.

“Thank you,” I said quietly.

“It was my pleasure.”

I felt like all I had to offer lately and especially at Hemera were thank you’s. I didn’t have anything besides what Jimin had provided me with as his guest.

That night Jimin had asked if I would dine with him alone or choose to dine in my chambers by myself as it was not usual for his entire court to dine together each evening. I agreed to dine with him since I was not fond of being alone during a meal. It would only remind me of my missing family and of the meals I had at Erebus.

I was surprised that he didn’t choose to dine at a grand table for dinner, but a private dining room.

“Do you dine by yourself here?”

He nodded with a half-smile. “It’s more comforting than a grand table by myself since I do not have family or others to dine with.”

The dinner was in fact as simple as the act of a king dining alone privately. It was not the large display Taehyung had at his dinner with guests rather something like sliced honey bread served on a plate along with vegetables and veal.

I was given a goblet of wine along with the meal.

“Do you have any intentions of courting anyone?” I was unsure of the appropriateness of my question, but I had already asked before I could rethink myself.

Jimin didn’t seem bothered thankfully and answered with genuineness. “When you are a ruler of a kingdom, it is hard to seek the true intentions of those who are around you. When you are busy reading their intentions, it becomes hard to make space in your heart for love.”

I nodded, half understanding what he had said. I can feel sympathy, but I was not a ruler and could not empathize with him. I did feel bad for the lonely position he had been dealt with.

“If I intend on finding a queen, I will want my marriage to be out of love, not out of an alliance.” The corners of his lips turned as he gave a self-deprecating chuckle, “Although, that is quite hard.”

We had such genuine conversations when we spoke and I much favored them to the conversations I had with Taehyung. He knew how to carry them well and most importantly, in these conversations, I felt like I was speaking to a friend who knew me well rather than a king who had the power to have me gone within seconds.

Soon, I felt a wave of fatigue cross me. We had long finished dinner but had spent a while talking about anything and everything that stemmed from our conversation. Jimin was speaking of a time when he was a young boy, centuries ago, when the kingdom was still one.

I did not know how our conversation had drifted there, but I was glad to hear of stories of a happy childhood.

Unfortunately, my fatigue was strong and I was not able to hear all the words; they were muddling together and my eyelids threatened to shut from heavyweights.

“Are you alright, y/n?” From my tired eyes, I could see the concern in his eyes.

“I just feel a bit tired, maybe since it is late. Perhaps, our conversation may continue another time?” My voice was dragged on, tongue barely curling enough to form proper words.

“Yes, you should return to your chambers and rest.”

I don’t know how, but it was black the moment I had hit my bed. Was I that tired?

I woke up to the beautiful daylight of Hemera, but a sour feeling on my tongue. My tongue felt like I had spoken words of betrayal; it tasted bitter, yet I had not eaten anything yet.

My mind fluttered back to last night’s conversation. I had spoken on Taehyung briefly, but it was nothing incriminating. I still felt like I had said something I was not supposed to.

Was I too drunk from a single glass of wine and let my mouth run?

I shook my head at the thought. I didn’t own a single detail in which I could betray him in any way. He had his own secrets that he had made sure to keep from me.

When a knock came to my door, I realized it was probably Isobel and my suspicions were confirmed when she peeped her head in.

“Good morning, your highness,” she bowed briefly at the door. “I hope you are well-rested. His Majesty had asked if you are rested enough to see more of the capital.”

It seemed that he had noted my fatigue last night but this morning, I was more than well-rested. I was hungry to explore more of the city.

“Of course.”

Although the seasons were still winter, it was like a completely different scene at Hemera. It was one thing I had failed to really take in until my second day at Hemera. With winter bleeding into the spring that was soon to arrive, the bitter cold was not there to bite, but rather a slightly chilly breeze one might experience during autumn. At the same time, I knew Erebus was much colder than here.

Interestingly, Jimin has dressed in extremely casual clothing, far from the embroidered tunic and jackets he wore. Instead, he adorned a simple white shirt and black trousers, neither with any decoration. The shirt wore loose on him and was tucked into the trousers.

My dress was along the lines of his clothing as well. The long dress was a plain off white with bell sleeve; the only decoration being the belt that tied at my waist. I wasn’t sure where this dress appeared from because it was not from my own clothes.

“How is it so warm? In Erebus, the weather was freezing the day we left.” We walked along a street which Jimin had claimed to be their famous street of crafts and many visitors of the kingdom came seeking a craft from this street whether it be clothing, art, or pottery.

“We’re much farther south. Our winter seasons are not as extreme. It’s great for the most part, but I miss the snow sometimes.”

Just as he finished speaking, we were steered around a corner. I spotted the bookstore and Jimin must have noticed my line of sight changing because his hand grasped mine as he pulled me towards it.

“I used to hate reading, but came to love it once I came to Erebus.”

“There’s a library at the palace since you like to read,” Jimin noted.

With a failed attempt at refusing, we were walking out of the bookstore, me an edition of “Through the Looking-Glass” in hand.

“If you had it in your library, I could just read it from there.” I couldn’t help the pout in my voice.

“I don’t, I swear! That’s why I bought it, I want it in my library,” He raised his hands in surrender.

“Thank you anyway,” my lips returned to a grateful smile.

“Anyway,” he drew out and I steered my focus to him, “what do you think about another ball?”

“Are you asking for my opinion for an event for your kingdom, Your Majesty?”

“Well, I’d like to know since it would be a ball in your honor,” he responded, hands tucking into his pockets.

“Why for my honor?” My brows furrowed in confusion.

“For one, you weren’t enjoying the ball at Erebus so I’d like for you to experience a different one. One here. Also, you’re my guest. My brother hosted a ball in my honor so I want to return the favor while you’re here,” he explained.

“You don’t need to,” I waved my hand. “It would be a lot of work and you’re already doing more than enough just showing me the capitol.”

“How about it would be my honor to host a ball?” He suggested, an eyebrow-raising to jokingly challenge me.

“Well, I don’t have a dress,” I responded.

“I’ll handle that,” a smirk curving on his lips because he knew he got me wrapped in his plans. “I guess it’s settled,” he clapped once in satisfaction, “a week from today, we’ll have a ball!”

I could only shake my head with a smile rising to my lips.

“Do you have anything, in particular, you’d like to see? To be honest, I ran out of ideas,” Jimin asked the next day over breakfast.

The spoon in my hand swirled the tea and then I remembered, “I believe I was owed a tour of the palace library.”

“Said who?” He brought a cup of coffee to his mouth with a teasing smile.

“Says you, Your Majesty.” No amount of holdings I had was able to stop the tease in my tone when I mentioned his title just to get a laugh.

So, I was left in awe as Jimin led me through the double doors revealing behind it the library. The walls were lined with shelves of books nearly two stories high which were only accessible with a ladder than ran along the walls.

“Wow,” my mouth left hanging agape.

After a few moments, Jimin was beside me and in his hand was the copy of “Through the Looking Glass” that he had bought yesterday.

“So, what made you like reading when you went to Erebus?”

I shrugged. “I didn’t realize that reading could take you away from reality.”

“Reality?”

“I guess the marriage wasn’t really what I had planned,” I revealed. In my mind, I was weighing whether or not to reveal more, to reveal why I was really at Erebus and what had taken place at my village.

“And reading took you away from that?”

I nodded. “Jimin, what do you think about the village between your two kingdoms?”

Why did I just ask that?

Taehyung’s voice rang in my head. A task that required me to look for mere humans of a defenseless village…

It would be better to see Jimin’s view beforehand right?

“It’s a shame that they have to be caught between all of this,” he said. “Why do you ask all of a sudden?”

I paused for a moment, attempting to wind up an excuse because clearly, his answer was not enough to compel me to give my true reason. “The festival happened recently; I was just wondering since it was on my mind,” my voice trailed off and I prayed that it was a good enough excuse.

Jimin seemed to have bought it as he nodded his head in response. “Yeah, a few months ago. I wish I was able to help the village with poverty, but the village is neutral land between our kingdoms. I can’t do anything.”

His hands secured behind his back as his gaze grazed passed shelves as if in deep thought with himself as he spoke.

I felt myself believing what he was saying. He had no reason to be telling me this if he hadn’t meant it.

Changing the subject, he asked, “Dinner tonight?” A faint smile on his lips.

“Of course.”

I found myself growing increasingly tired as nightfall came for days to come. Whenever I was at dinner right past nightfall, I would feel the heaviness on my eyelids and my mind beginning to grow lazy and losing attention easily.

Jimin noticed himself.

“Are you okay? You seem to easily tire recently. I’m going to send for a palace healer tomorrow.” Concern laced his voice and was present in his eyes. A frown took hold of his lips as he reached out a hand to grasp my arm gently.

“I’m not sure. I just feel like I have no energy to stay awake past certain times.” It was hard to muster the energy to even speak my words.

Jimin stood from his chair and wrapped an arm around my waist, helping me from my chair. “Here, I’ll walk you back to your bedroom.”

I only mustered the strength to nod. “Thank you,” my words came out in breaths.

Just like the past few nights, I entered the arms of sleep the moment I was in my bed. The last thing in my sight before my eyes shut was the worried frown on Jimin’s face.

As Jimin had stated the night before, a palace healer arrived in the morning following a concerned Jimin. The anxious king seemingly couldn’t stay still as the healer took my pulse. I felt perfectly fine when I woke up, but when night fell, especially after dinner, my energy disappeared into thin air.

I was sitting in bed having a healer examine me as if I was truly unwell with something.

“Her pulse is not weak, Your Majesty. There is no sign of illness.”

“Then why does she have such a lack of energy?” Jimin sounded annoyed at the lack of a diagnosis.

“I’m sorry, I am not able to tell if it is a condition I have not heard of before,” the healer bowed apologetically. Honestly, Jimin looked like he was ready to bring about punishment and I understood why the healer was frightened by his demeanor.

“It’s fine. I may not be resting enough,” I added to try and smooth over the healer’s lack of diagnosis and calm the irritated king.

“You’re dismissed,” Jimin waved a dismissive hand towards the healer.

The healer took another bow before leaving.

“It might be my fault,” I mustered a smile towards the displeased king.

“I’m going to send for herbal teas or something. It isn’t right my guest is feeling unwell in my palace,” he took my hand, letting his thumb gently sweep across the back of it.

“Thank you.” I was grateful he was placing so much care in a subject that was not as important. “Needn’t worry yourself over such an insignificant thing. It could be anything really, like getting used to the change in seasons so suddenly,” I suggested.

It really didn’t concern me as much as it seemed to concern Jimin.

“It’s just not settling that this is while you’re in my care. I couldn’t possibly return you in this state back to your home.”

Right, home. It was a reminder that I was technically still visiting this kingdom.

Taehyung wouldn’t care if I was on my death bed anyway.

“I assure you, the fatigue is gone by morning when I awake.” I offered a gentle smile.

Jimin sighed. “It could be the beginning of something more serious. At least drink the tea I send for later.”

I had no choice but to oblige to his request because God knew that he would just continue down the path of concern.

I had not seen much of Jimin for the next few days except when we met for dinner in which he would appear in the library where I was nose deep in another book or in my room, hands tucked behind his back and a smile on his face as he invited me to dinner.

Isobel didn’t ask in his place anymore.

The fatigue was not as frequent, only occurring sometimes and not every night as before. It settled Jimin’s worries.

Tonight was the night of the ball. Just as I had experienced at Erebus, the palace was in complete chaos. Even though I was the only guest from outside of the kingdom here, it seemed the decoration was just as elaborate.

“Your highness, I have your dress for the ball,” Isobel arrived in my bedroom with a white box in hand. She placed it down onto the coffee table and I rose from the bed to open it.

When I lifted the lid from the box, it revealed the familiar fabric with gray tulle and embroidered pale pink flowers.

My mouth went agape as my fingers glided across the fabric, through different flowers. Awe ran through me for a few seconds, how was this possible? How could Jimin possibly have the dress made?

“How could he have…,” I whispered to myself.

“His Majesty had ordered it from the seamstress that had come earlier this week,” Isobel responded.

I grasped the dress and pulled it from the box. It revealed a ballgown, full in the skirt as the flowers gathered at the bottom and dispersed as it reached the waistline. The dress had straps falling from the shoulder and the top focused on the flowers as well.

“It’s beautiful.” My eyes struggled to remove themselves from tracing through the dress over and over again.

“The ball will be in a few hours, do you want to begin preparing?”

I nodded, feeling eager to try on the beautiful gown.

Just like that, I was thrown into a flurry of activities beginning with bathing and ending with the dress being laced by Isobel and jewels being placed on me. Half of my hair was braided and wrapped around the crown of my head while the rest flowed down my back.

A knock came from the door.

“Come in.” I folded my hands together in front of me and waited. I knew it was Jimin who was behind the door.

The door opened to reveal a royal king, dressed like a true king, and standing like a true king. Jimin strode in, a smile gracing his lips. He wore an ivory suit jacket, the collar, and cuffs laced with gold trimming. Just beneath peeped a white dress shirt. Above his brow was a grand crown I had not seen much of.

I had not realized the gold crown had a jeweled sun in the center, but it only stood to represent the power he embodied.

Even a humble king didn’t miss the chance to dress for the occasion as rings adorned his fingers and a single earring hung from his ear.

“Beautiful,” Jimin spoke as he approached me.

The single word drew me from my thoughts and warmth to make its way to my cheeks as I bowed. “Thank you.”

“Shall we?”

He extended an arm for me as I took hold of it.

I didn’t know if I met Jimin’s standard of regalness, but he didn’t stop when we entered the ballroom allowing all eyes to fall upon us.

The similar feeling of self-consciousness fell onto me. I was definitely not the same flawlessness as them, but walking in with Jimin gave me a feeling of comfort.

People bowed and addressed their king as we walked by.

I wasn’t aware I gave away my thoughts until Jimin tipped his head over and whispered, “you look magnificent, don’t let any looks take that from you.”

Again, my cheeks felt warm and I ducked my head out of habit. I didn’t want to reveal the blush on my face. “Thank you, Jimin,” I replied, grateful.

His words kept some of the insecurity at bay.

“I think you’ll find our balls enjoyable,” he commented as he reached for two flutes of bubbling wine and handed me one.

“I’m already enjoying this much more,” I revealed.

“Then I’ve partially completed my mission tonight.” He took a sip from the flute, a satisfied smile on his lips.

My brows furrowed. “What mission?”

“Well, first, make sure you attend a ball and actually have fun,” he began. “Then, a waltz in much better music.”

He had remembered my note about the music from Erebus’s ball.

I felt a strike of courage as I asked, “then the waltz?”

“Would you do me the honor then?” Jimin picked up on my question as he plucked the flute from my hand and placed both glasses down before extending a hand to me with a curt bow.

“Of course, we’ve got to complete your mission right?” I took his hand as he led me towards the center of the ballroom.

As though the orchestra had known, another song had begun to play. Jimin was right, the music was better.

I realized I was not as terrible as when I had first danced in Erebus. Even though it was only the second or third time, my footing had gotten better.

We took a few steps before I remembered.

“How did you have this dress prepared?” He couldn’t have known about the fabric.

“The seamstress mentioned the fabric from when she came to take your measurements and I thought you’d like it for the dress,” he said, a clear smile due to how well received his choice was.

“I love it.”

With that, Jimin released a hand to spin me from him and pulled me back to him which caused me to release a laugh.

“I’m glad you did,” and this time, we were closer than before, his voice next to my ear. “Who knows how upset I would be if you didn’t,” he joked.

It felt more intimate, more intimate than we had ever been. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy this closeness and feared my heart was starting to fall for Jimin. Yet, I had to remind myself that publicly I was betrothed to Taehyung and had yet to dispel that.

Before I had a chance to distance myself to stand as an upcoming monarch of a different kingdom, Jimin moved first. It was clear there was displeasure on his features, a slight frown was on his lips and his eyes flitted around the room.

“I want to show you something.”

I allowed his hand to slip into mine and tug me from the ball. He led me down a hallway and into a room.

“Where are we?”

“Somewhere that isn’t the ballroom.”

“Why?”

“To be honest, I apologize for the way my people may have been treating you.”

I knew what he was talking about yet my brows furrowed in confusion. “What made you say that?”

“In the ballroom—,” he started. He didn’t have to finish.

“They were watching us dance,” I finished for him. “It’s alright, I understand I’m the outsider here.” I kept my tone casual because I had faced more discrimination at Erebus than simply people giving me strange looks.

“It was still discourteous,” he interjected.

“No, it’s fine. I mean it.” I gave a small smile. “I promise.”

“I’ll try to keep the impoliteness at bay.”

“So I assume that there wasn’t really something for you to show me,” I gestured to the room we were in. It was another empty bedroom in the palace.

“Actually,” he drew out.

I realized our hands were still intertwined as his thumb gently ran across the back of mine. He pulled me towards a pair of glass doors. This was something new that I had not noticed before.

“I intended to apologize, but this room also has a balcony with an amazing view,” he said cheekily.

“I’m jealous Jimin, I was not given a balcony in my room,” I teased him.

Leaning against the rails of the balcony, silence settled. We could only hear the gentle howling of the wind and the rest of the capital with all its lights in the distance.

“How about dancing here without prying eyes and impolite frowns?” Jimin suggested.

“In the silence?” I gave him a strange look although there was no refusal in my tone.

“The better.” He extended a hand which in a split second, I placed my hand into. His other hand fell below my shoulder which allowed my arm to rest upon as my hand landed on his shoulder.

In the silence, we waltzed. The only sound came from our shoes shuffling as we moved.

“You were right,” I said with an amused smile.

“I’m full of good ideas.” His mouth curved.

We paused in the dance and my heart began to race. With the moonlight cascading over the side of his face, I was able to finally see the king before me. It was different from whenever I had seen it before.

I noticed the way his eyes were twinkling in the moonlight and how they shaped with the smile he wore. I liked that smile a lot.

His eyes found purchase on my lips and I couldn’t help but mirror his actions, allowing my eyes to fall to his. The intention was there.

He leaned in then his soft lips were on mine. It was not a long kiss, rather a short one filled with enough emotion. It was clear where the intention of the kiss had come from. I kissed back to my own surprise and allowed myself to lean into his body with my hands finding their way to behind his neck.

He returned by circling his arms on my waist, pulling me flush against him. For the first time, I felt my flutters inside my chest and that warm feeling that made me want to seek more. For the first time in a while, I had felt safe and I felt safe in Jimin’s arms.

We were both surprised when we separated. I assumed my pupils matched his, dilated. I don’t know if the sudden kiss opened a door of trust for me, but I was compelled to tell him. “Jimin, I have something to tell you.”

His eyes encouraged me to continue and I was about to, mouth opening to tell him about my family and village who was taken away until there was a knock on the door that pulled the opportunity right from beneath my feet.

We escaped from each other’s arms and distanced ourselves. “Come in.” Jimin brought his authoritative tone back.

I’m sure my eyes grew wide and my heart plunged into my stomach when a familiar face appeared in a whirlwind of white.

It was a man that resembled the guard in my dreams of my village in the dungeon. The same nasty scar was beside his right eye.

I shook my head slightly. No, it was just someone who looked like him. He was a soldier, of course, he had battle scars.

My dreams were definitely not real.

A more unsettling feeling came when my curiosity surfaced. Was it possible?

I was nauseous immediately at the consideration. I had to be mistaken. My dreams are not real. They cannot be.

Why did this person resemble someone from my dream? I swallowed and began to reason my thoughts. This was a possibility, someone in my dream could look similar to others in reality.

My eyes were on the upper arm of the man’s armor searching for his crest. The fear settled. It was not the same crest from my dream. No bleeding moon. It was rather a sun with crossed swords below it. It certainly had to be the royal guard’s crest.

The guard eyed me strangely before clearing his throat.

“Pardon me, Your Majesty, it is time to discuss the guests from the continent and their stay.”

“Yes, I will meet you in the cabinet room in a moment. You’re dismissed.”

After the guard left, Jimin turned his attention from the door. “I’ll see you later?”

I had been too distracted by the thoughts of the guard to fully regard the nervousness in his tone and nodded.

I barely noticed him leaving the room.

Even though the chances were small, I couldn’t settle the thoughts that urged me to consider the possibility that this was someone from my dreams. And if he had been real, were my dreams real?

I shook my head at the thought.

Foolish, they were foolish. There was nothing besides a simple resemblance to someone from my dreams to point me towards the insane idea that my dreams were entirely real.

a/n

lowkey a little bit of filler and i hate some parts i wrote, but i really wanted more development with jimin’s character and y/n & his relationship which is how this chapter came to be, hope you enjoy reading it though! :)

[also really sorry to say this but i kinda dug myself into a whole of writer’s block for this series and might (potentially but not sure yet depending on the outlook of the next two weeks) put this series on hiatus or have the next chapter be posted in longer than the two weeks marks between chapters :( it’s just been tough to write the next chapter because i’m not really sure how i want to write it and i love this series too much (and it needs the justice) to just force myself to write it and have it written terribly. i really hope it doesn’t happen though]

yours truly, Selene ♡

#bts scenarios #jimin fanfic #bts fanfic #bts fantasy au #bts jimin #bts royalty au #bts one shot #bts taehyung #taehyung fanfic #bts x you #bts x reader #bts fanfiction #bts fantasy #bts series #Luce in altis #writing

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elatedmarvel · 5 years ago

Text

No Use Crying Over Spilled Coffee

Word Count: Word Count: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: You keep bumping into Steve Rogers, literally.

Word Count: 2364

Warnings: None, not even a swear word (weird I know) she’s a fluffy one

A/N: Remember when I said I was going on a 2 week hiatus? Lol what a joke. Sorry life keeps happening, but I’m going to try and be better about posting. I have so many ideas! Thank you so much for reading! ~J

The day you met him was unremarkable.

You got up, got dressed, and headed to work like any other day. But, something possessed you to stop at that coffee shop. You had gotten up early, it was a bright morning, and you were early for work. You figured one cup of coffee from that fancy coffee shop down the way could truly make this Monday morning a good morning.

You hummed the song playing in the coffee shop softly under your breath and stared at the specials. The choices all had your mouth watering and it was hard to make a decision. There seemed to be some commotion outside as you stepped up to order, but you paid no mind, it was a daily occurrence in NY.

The barista handed you your drink, and just smelling it made you smile. Just as you were about to take your first sip, the front window was shattered as someone was thrown through- taking you and your coffee down with him.

“I’m so sorry” he panted out of breath, quickly scrambling off of you. You barely heard him, staring as you saw your precious coffee in a puddle on the floor. The sight alone could make you tear up, never mind the cuts and bruises you could feel start to form on your body.

A hand came into view, and the world seemed to rush back to you. You looked up and there he was. Captain America.

“You spilled my coffee” was all you could respond.

“I’m sorry ma’am, but I didn’t really have a choice on the landing.” he tried to joke, clearly uncomfortable at your wide eyed gaze.

“But my coffee…” was all you could utter again. Looking around you realized you were still sitting on the floor. You took his hand and he hoisted you up, almost pulling you off the ground.

“Are you sure you’re ok? No concussion?” he asks as his face roams your face and he looks at your eyes. The color of your eyes and the depth of your stare made chills run down his neck. Lost in your eyes, he turns red when you clear your throat, bringing him back to the moment.

“No dilation, that's a good sign.” he awkwardly coughs. “I’m sorry about taking you down.”

“It’s ok. Are you hurt?” genuine concern laced your voice. His uniform was torn, and you were pretty sure he was bleeding.

“I’m fine” surprised that you would ask him. No one ever asked him how he was.

You were about double check when he put his hand to his ear and murmured a coming.

“I have to go, but if you feel drowsy or the pain is too much, you should go to hospital.” he states, already pulling away and rushing back to the fight. “I’m sorry” he shouts back at you once more, and he’s gone.

It takes a second for your to shake out of your daze, but when you do you realize the coffee shop as gone almost back to normal. The customers were still lined up and the baristas were giving out orders. The only thing that made you sure you hadn’t dreamed it was the glass crunching under your shoes, the pitiful puddle of coffee on the ground, and the dull throb on your butt.

You had almost forgotten about the incident by Friday morning when you stepped into your office and there it was. The most inconspicuous cup of coffee sitting on your desk, just your order and the perfect temperature.

If anyone asked, the pep in your step that day was certainly the caffeine, and not the handwritten post it note now thumb-tacked to your board.

Thanks for breaking my fall, hope this makes us even :-)

~~~

Months later, your company had been invited to a huge fundraiser gala hosted by Tony Stark. The event was big, thrown at the Plaza with many fortune 500 companies in attendance.

The moment you walked in, you were a little star struck. Unsure how you had made the cut for the guest list, you felt out of place. Though your boss had given you a generous allowance to spend on your attire, you’re sure your $2,000 Zac Posen evening gown couldn’t compare to the custom made designer gowns and suits that were gleaming under the light.

Spotting a close work friend and some people from your office, you made your way to the open bar and ordered your favorite wine.

“I feel so out of place” you say as soon as you join your group. Drink poised in your right hand.

“I know me too. I feel like we’re the charity.” Rachel from marketing jokes, and you instantly feel better being here.

“What did we do to get on this list?” Jake from accounting asks. And the conversation flows from there. Jokes and small talk were had, and the more time you spent laughing with your co-workers, the more at ease you felt.

2 glasses in and you were feeling loose, your reflexes weren’t as sharp as they should have been. When someone knocks you from behind, your drink goes flying out your hand and finds residence on your dress. The collective gasp from your group lets you know the stain is bad before you even have to look down.

“I’m so sorry!” and you feel a sense of deja vu. Pivoting on your heels to see your assaulter, you come face to red face with Captain America.

“My wine.” was all you could mutter. If possible, his eyes widen even more.

“I’m so sorry Y/n! Bucky pushed me I swear!” he rushed out as he throws an accusatory finger at the brunette standing a few feet away with a Cheshire grin on his face.

You shoot Bucky a small wave before glancing up at Steve again, and boy was that a mistake. If possible, he had gotten more handsome than when you last saw him. His hair was grown out slightly, and his face was freshly shaven. The suit he had on looked like it was molded for his body, and you tried so hard not to outwardly drool over him. You’re heart fluttered when you realized he knew and remembered your name.

“We have to stop meeting like this.” you smirk up at him. Eyes taking in how his blush was spreading from his cheeks to his entire face.

“I swear it was an accident! I was telling Bucky that I thought it was you, he told me to say hi and gave me a little nudge” he rambles, heart pounding under your playful gaze. “I’m sorry I ruined your dress, I’ll pay for the dry cleaning bill. Or I’ll just buy you another one.”

At the mention of your dress, you realize that the wine was starting to sink into your dress and stick to your skin.

“It’s ok Captain Rogers, I didn’t pay for it, and I doubt I’ll have an occasion to wear it again.” You glance around and find that your friends had moved elsewhere, leaving you alone with Steve.

“I think I’m gonna go. Get this off before it sticks anymore.” you say, trying to memorize Steve’s face. Sure it’ll be the last time you see him.

“Let me at least help you get home and make sure the stain didn’t set.” flushing when he realizes what that must sound like to you. “I swear I just want to make sure the dress and you are ok, I won’t even go into your building!”

Your heart warms at his blabbering, and you can’t help but smile up at him.

“I would lo-” and you get interrupted as Pepper Potts herself gives you a smile and takes Steve’s elbow.

“Sorry to barge in but it’s time for your speech Cap” was all she said as she started to drag him away. His eyes searching for you and mouthed an I’m sorry before he was swept away and engulfed by the crowd.

Sure enough, the band quieted as Tony Stark appeared on stage and started the thank yous of the evening. Seeing Steve on stage and watching all the women in the room undress him with your eyes was your breaking point. The wine stain had started to cool, and your heart was tearing a little at being so close, yet so far away from him. The night was over, and all you wanted was to curl up with a pint of ice cream and watch reruns of Friends.

One last look to Steve, who was chewing the inside of his cheek and watching Tony finish up his speech, and you slowly made your way through the crowd. You never noticed the pair of sorrowful blue eyes watching your departure.

The next morning on your way out the door to find some coffee, a hulking bouquet of yellow roses was waiting for you on the doorstep. Sniffing the roses as you went to put them on your table, the card bought a permanent smile to your face.

These roses dull in comparison to you, but I hope you accept my apology.

Steven G. Rogers

~~~

It was finally Friday after the longest week. Everything that could go wrong went wrong. You’re alarm didn’t go off on Monday leaving you 30 mins late for a meeting with the board of the company, unpredicted rainfall ruined your makeup and shoes on Tuesday, the copier jammed on Wednesday so you couldn’t scan any of your contracts, and Thursday brought about a case of mild food poisoning.

You were truly done with the week, and just wanted to crawl into your bed and hibernate till Monday. But, your best friends had made plans and you figured seeing them and some alcohol could brighten an otherwise horrible, no good week.

The music was loud, but no match for the volume at which your friends and you laughed. You could feel the tension slip away story by story and start to be replaced by a decent buzz. Volunteering to get the next round, you gently balance the three drinks in your hands. Gingerly, you swivel on your heel and right into a brick wall of a man, effectively drenching both you and him. His hands come up to your arms to help you keep your balance.

“I’m sorry!” you both exclaim, and you could recognize that voice anywhere.

“You know, if you wanted to see me, all you had to do was say hi” you laugh as you look up and find the shocked face of one Steve Rogers.

“Ugh, you must hate me by now” and he covers one giant hand over his blushed face.

“At least this time you got a small taste of your own medicine.” and you gesture to his soaked white tee shirt. If he notices how your eyes linger at the transparent shirt clinging to all the hard muscle underneath, he doesn’t say.

“I owe you a new drink. Or 3” he smiles down at you.

“I would take you up on that offer, but my girlfriends are waiting for me.” pointing at the table of women obviously staring at the interaction. He aims a small wave and half smile at them, which they return with great enthusiasm.

“Let me replace your drinks then.” and he turns signals to the bartender before you can say anything.

“Thank you, I’m sure they would love to tell the story of how Captain America bought them drinks.” you tease.

“I’m glad they won’t hate me for ruining your night out.” and you both continue the small talk. So engrossed with each other, you don’t even realize that your drinks are ready until the bartender has to slap the bar to grab your attention.

“I’ll walk you to your table, make sure you don’t spill that on anyone else.” and you feel his hand guiding you back towards your friends. “Don’t worry, seems like these things only really happen around you.” you smirk up, and you swear his whole face starts to turn red.

“I’m sorry again, for the coffee and the wine and your beer.” he says and sincerely looks guilty. You’re heart could just burst at his expression, and you laugh when he sticks his bottom lip out in a pout.

“All is forgiven. Under one circumstance.” and you can hear your heartbeat in your ears. His lovely face morphs into one of confusion and your palms sweat a bit more. It’s now or never.

“You take me to dinner.” and the shocked look on his face has you questioning if you really were taking his kind gestures the wrong way. Maybe he was really just trying to be nice.

His small laugh restarts your breathing, and you can feel a smile start to creep up on your face. “You beat me.” he states. “I was gonna spill one more drink on you and then as you out” he jokes.

“I see, well I still have drinks in my hand if you want to stick to your plan.” you grin up at him.

“Nah, I think I’m good” he smiles and leans down slowly. His eyes flicker from yours to your lips. You meet him halfway and the moment your lips touch, the world melts away. His hand comes up to caress you face and you press yourself into him more.

The sudden cold feeling of your beers spilling onto your pants had you pulling away. A little too wrapped up in the kiss, you had tilted the beers in your hand.

“Shoot! I’m so sorry!” you say and you try not to laugh at the irony.

“It’s ok, partly my fault. I distracted you.” he says looking down at his now damp shoes. “But I guess this means I have to ask you out.” and his cheeky smile has you actually laughing.

“It would be my pleasure. As long as I stay dry during the date.”

“Can’t promise anything darling.” and he pecks your lips once more before going back to the bar to replace your drinks.

Going into that coffee shop months ago was the best decision you had ever made.

#steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #steve fic #steve fanfiction #steve rogers fan fiction #steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers imagine #steve fluff #steve imagine #avenger fanfiction

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somethingjustsouthofbrilliance · 5 years ago

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Tears of an Angel (Crowley/Aziraphale)

Right... so I saw this beautiful, heartrending artwork post and... I couldn’t help myself. I didn’t think I could ever do this, but... I’m sorry. I am truly sorry.

Warning: Major Character Death

Tagging: @tonystark5ever @giulisetta @swanheart69

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

Adam’s wedding day is beautiful – a gorgeous, sun-stroked jewel of late summer, imbued with an intoxicating scent of honeysuckle and freshly cut grass. Not a hint of clouds in the brilliant blue sky that smiles down at the happy mingle of guests: some chatting amicably with those around them, others indulging, somewhat furtively but with obvious pleasure, in the impressive spread of refreshments heaped onto the white-clothed tables, others still swaying blissfully to the soft, enchanting sounds of music.

It’s perfect. And Crowley wouldn’t have expected it to be anything but. Adam, after all, is still, to this day, the Spawn of Satan, whom he so bravely, so brilliantly rejected all those years ago. And that means, reality is very much still his to change the way he pleases.

Crowley can’t find it in himself to complain.

He leans casually back against the side of a gazebo, arms crossed on his chest. Smiles fondly as he watches Anathema drag Aziraphale out into the dancing area, the angel shooting a pleading look Crowley’s way before submitting to the inevitable with a resigned huff, hurriedly shoving the remainder of a strawberry tart into his mouth.

Oh, angel…

“Interesting setup you got here.”

He straightens out instantly, all sense of leisure gone from his posture, tension bleeding from every line of his body.

“What do you want, Hastur?”

“I’ve been watching you two,” the demon drawls out ominously from behind him – an oppressive, dangerous presence just off to the side, just out of his line of sight. And Crowley fights the urge to turn around; suppresses the frisson of unease the demon’s presence sends down his spine.

“What do you want?” he repeats in a growl of forced annoyance, even as his metaphorical heart clenches in mounting fear. Hastur’s been watching them. All these years. Does it mean he figured out their swap? Does it mean he knows?

“I know you tricked us,” Hastur answers his unspoken question, a note of smug satisfaction in his voice telling Crowley the demon noticed his panic despite Crowley’s best efforts. “I don’t know how you did it, but…” There’s an ugly bark of laughter – like a crack of a dry twig underfoot, followed by rustle of clothes and an overwhelmingly strong presence, dark, magical. “I don’t really care.”

And Crowley can’t help turning around now. Can’t help looking down at Hastur’s gloved hand, at the wicked-looking knife held cautiously in its grip. Can’t help the nasty, cold feeling that claws at his chest when he sees the flame-red sigils carved into the darkened blade.

“Oh, good, you recognize it.” Hastur’s smiling at him now – a dark, sadistically gleeful grin. Turns the blade in his hand in a mockery of awed contemplation. “A hellfire-forged blade with holy sigils – a perfect weapon against any being, ethereal or demonic.” Growls out low, his upper lip curling in predatory anticipation, “Heaven and Hell will be happy to see both of you gone. Me personally? After watching the two of you for a bit? I think killing just one of you will make for a far better torture.” He waves his free hand in the air, a look of almost blissful dreaminess spreading across his face.

Crowley grinds his teeth together in helpless rage, glances back out to where his angel is fumbling dreadfully across from Anathema in a poor imitation of dancing, blissfully unaware of the danger lurking only a few feet away. Flinches when he feels Hastur shift closer.

“I’m feeling generous today, Serpent,” he murmurs, the smell of swamp and rot wafting over the side of Crowley’s face. “I’m gonna let you choose.”

Choose. A bitter smile twitches at the corners of Crowley’s lips, his eyes never leaving the achingly dear white-haired form in a cream color jacket. What is there to choose, really? His choice has been made over 6000 years ago, standing on that wall in the Garden of Eden next to a beautiful, mystifying angel who gave away his sword to protect humans and then proceeded to shield a demon from the First Rain.

He doesn’t even have to think about it.

“Me,” he states calmly, ignoring the sharp pang in his heart at the thought that this is it for him, that he will never see his angel again. “Take me.” Turns briefly back to his unwelcome companion to glare murderously into the bottomless dark pools of his eyes. “But thisss isss it, Hastur,” he hisses, low and menacing, putting all of his venom, all of his demonic, serpentine conviction into the words. “After thisss our debt isss paid in full. Nobody touches the angel, understood? Not your lot, not the Heaven. And you will make sure of that.” He leans in closer, eyes bleeding a terrifyingly hypnotic, poisonous yellow. “You will make sure of that, Hasssstur, or I swear on all that is unholy, that I will find a way to come back, and I will make you wish you were the first one through my office door that day instead of Ligur.” He lets his upper lip curl, lets his fangs slide out in warning. “Undersssstood?”

Hastur’s lips twist in an echoing snarl, but Crowley can see the minute perturbation on the other demon’s face, knows his threat (bluff, yes, but Hastur has no way of knowing that) has hit its mark.

“Meet me in the cemetery behind the church,” the Duke of Hell spits out, nodding blindly in the direction of the small village church that hosted the wedding ceremony a mere hour ago. And disappears in a cloud of thick gray smoke.

Crowley remains where he is a moment longer. Lets his gaze linger on Aziraphale for one last time, drinking in the sight of his dancing angel – so blessedly carefree, so endearingly clumsy, so unfailingly good, so… so… beautiful. He sighs, smiling despite the traitorous, anguished tremble of his lips. Closes his eyes, letting that final image of Aziraphale become engrained in his memory. And follows Hastur to his doom.

He doesn’t see Aziraphale turning to glance in his direction an instant before he disappears from view.

***

He reappears but a moment later in the place of Hastur’s choosing. Stumbles a bit on the uneven surface of a freshly laid grave.

And gasps, his breath choked off and stolen, as sharp pain explodes below his ribcage, doubling him over with the force of the blow. A wave of power rushes through him – angelic and demonic, woven together to create a monumental, monstrous hybrid of destruction. Cold and fiery, deadly and unstoppable, sluicing through his veins to tear him apart, piece by piece by piece.

He reaches forward on instinct, grabbing blindly, convulsively for the support of the putrid smelling shape that materializes in front of him. Groans pathetically as Hastur shoves the blade deeper with a hard, vicious thrust. And shudders, his fingers unclasping, nerveless, from the demon’s sleeve, as Hastur yanks the blade out and steps quickly back out of reach.

“We are even now,” Hastur observes dispassionately as Crowley sinks to his knees before him onto the clumpy ground, one hand pressed uselessly against the bleeding gaping hole in his chest, the other seeking purchase in the loose dirt. Cringes with sympathetic fear as Crowley draws in another harsh, labored wheeze of a breath, face twisting at the ever-mounting pain.

“It was quicker for Ligur,” he notes darkly, sheathing the blade and putting it away into the folds of his coat. “Merciful almost, compared to yours.”

His cheek twitches minutely, a fire of grim satisfaction flashing in the black depths. Then, suddenly, he squats down before the injured demon, stares unblinking into the wide, pain-glazed eyes.

“But perhaps you can be thankful for a chance to say goodbye.” He cants his head to the side, nodding at something in the distance.

Blearily, Crowley follows his motion, and the cold that fills his chest no longer has anything to do with his impending death. Because there, weaving his way toward them between the maze of tombstones, is the angel, his angel.

No.

He grasps for Hastur’s coat again, gritting his teeth at the fresh flare of pain that rips through him at the unsanctioned movement.

“Your promisssse… re… remember your…,” his voice cuts out, his throat spasming from a sudden buildup of pressure that drowns the rest of his words in a vicious gurgle of a cough that spills forth in a spectacular spray of blood.

He gasps, breathless, against the intensity of it. Squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, missing the grimace of disgust that flits across Hastur’s face as the demon raises his hand to vanish the bloody splatter that carried from his former colleague to settle on his face and clothes.

“I have not forgotten, Serpent,” he grouches, extricating himself once again from Crowley’s feeble grip. Straightens back out, making a show of dusting off his forever-filthy coat. His cheek twitches again – a tell of discomfort, as he forces out the parting words of (questionable) reassurance. “Have a nice… death.”

A snap of fingers and the Duke of Hell vanishes from sight, and then the angel is there, kneeling on the ground before Crowley, hands pawing frantically at the darkened, bleeding hole in the middle of his chest; grasping Crowley’s shoulders as he sways alarmingly on his gradually weakening knees.

Crowley tries to steady himself, tries to look strong for his angel, but the devastating power ravaging his essence has already done too much damage, and he can’t help but succumb, slumping forward into Aziraphale’s chest with a helpless groan.

“Crowley?”

The angel’s voice trembles, tinged with desperation and fear, and Crowley can feel the same anxious tremble in the arms that wrap themselves around him; can hear the panicked beat of the angel’s heart. This will not do, he thinks, sluggish. He can’t leave his angel like this – so desperate, so panicked. He has to–

“I can’t… I can’t heal it. What…. Crowley, darling, please, what’s–?”

“Shhhhh….” He forces his head up, forces his weakened hand to move. Presses a shaking finger to the beautiful plump lips that he has been so fortunate, so privileged to taste in these past few years. How incredibly, insanely lucky he was!

“Shhh,” he repeats, running careful, gentle fingers across the angel’s cheek, wiping away a streak of golden tears that trails down the soft pale skin. Frowns when fresh tears begin to trickle down the same track. This isn’t right, he thinks. Aziraphale shouldn’t be… he can’t…

“Don’t cry,” he pleads, voice raspy and shaking with pain that is becoming harder and harder to conceal. But he will try. He has to try. For his angel. “S’okay… Zira… sss’okay. I cho…chose this… My choicssssse…”

Tear-filled blue eyes widen in understanding, the angel glancing briefly at a spot where Hastur stood only moments ago, before shifting his grief-stricken, horrified gaze back to Crowley.

“No…,” he whines, tears falling harder now, as his arms tighten around Crowley’s shivering form in mounting despair. “No, Crowley… Crowley, you can’t….”

Crowley blinks at him fondly, a faint smile pulling at his blood-stained lips. “S’okay,” he exhales, fighting to speak against the gradually thickening blanket of darkness that begins to weigh down on him, threatening to pull him under. He can’t let it happen. Not yet. He needs to get the angel to understand, needs to explain. He knows that, once he surrenders to that darkness, he won’t get another chance.

“I had to… They won’t… won’t bother you now. Not any…anymore.”

It’s important that Aziraphale knows this. Because it’s something that’s been bothering the both of them all these years – the fear that Heaven or Hell or both will be coming for them any moment. It dampened the serenity, the pleasure of that short time they spent together, forcing them to constantly look over their shoulders. But no more, no more…

What little strength he has left to keep himself upright runs out and he sags, boneless, in Aziraphale’s feverish embrace, their foreheads touching.

Aziraphale is saying something, the angel’s breath hot and suspiciously wet against his skin, but Crowley can’t hear him, not anymore – the darkness pulling at him, engulfing his senses.

“Kiss me,” he asks instead – a barely there whisper.

He can hardly feel his arms anymore, but he manages somehow to raise one, to hook it feebly around the back of Aziraphale’s neck, smearing blood onto the white curls. Tugs, trying to urge the angel closer.

There’s barely any discernible pressure behind his gesture, but Aziraphale follows it nevertheless. Surges forward with a choked off sob, closing the already negligible gap between their mouths, latching on to Crowley’s lips as a man wandering for days in the sweltering heat of the desert latches on to the refreshing watery escape of an oasis.

The fear of loss, the desperate denial, the frantic need to hold on, and the love – overwhelming, all-encompassing, unfaltering love: Crowley reads it all on the trembling, tear-stained lips that cling to his own. It’s warm, the angel’s kiss. So beautifully warm against the numbing, agonizing cold that fills his entire being.

He closes his eyes, sinks deeper into the kiss, trying to capture as much of that warmth as he can, to bask in his angel’s essence before darkness pulls him away for good.

It isn’t long now, he can feel it. Can feel himself falling, breaking will-lessly away from the soft anchor of Aziraphale’s lips – the warm light of his angel’s presence growing dimmer and dimmer, until only a tiny spark remains in the thick, stifling darkness that swathes his mind.

He latches on to it, weakly, stubbornly. Peels his eyes open, unsurprised to find the angel leaning over him, his face – a pale, haloed blur for his failing sight. But even now, faded almost beyond recognition, he’s still the most beautiful thing Crowley has ever seen.

He tells him so. Releases the truth of it on the final exhale his corporation’s lungs allow him. Along with a faint susurrant confession, “Love you… angel…”

A soft, wet splatter of a warm, golden tear on his ice-cold cheek is the last thing he feels.

FIN

#good omens #good omens fic #crowley/aziraphale #crowley #aziraphale #hastur #character death #tragedy #angst #hurt #i broke them #i didn't mean to #somethingjustsouthofbrilliance writes #sjsob good omens fics

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taruuchii · 5 years ago

Text

Rainy Days

FE3H: Claude x F!Byleth x Dimitri

Byleth hates rainy days. Claude and Dimitri soon come to understand why. (loosely inspired by Fruits Basket! 3.2k)

~~~~

With the sun well below the horizon and the prominent gleaming of the crescent moon in the starry sky, flames began to flicker on the tips of burnt wicks all across Garreg Mach Monastery, dimly lighting the cold halls of the academy. In her own room, Byleth lied on her bed, studying the faint ridges in her cobblestone ceiling as her sleepless eyes refused to succumb to the lull of the dark night. While staring blankly into nothingness, she could catch the distinct earthy scent of the dampened dirt wafting through the narrow cracks of her rotting wooden door, a tell-tale sign that rain would soon follow.

Pitter-patter. The signature staccato tapping of water droplets hitting the roof filled Byleth’s bedroom once filled with a tranquil silence. Even if she closed her eyes now, she knew that sleep would not come. In fact, sleep could never come on rainy days. To many, the steady beat brought with the falling rain was something akin to a mother’s lullaby, providing a sense of comfort and drowsiness. But on these rainy days, the only thing Byleth was reminded of was her father’s death. Painful memories began to fill her head. The wound in her father’s chest creating a river of blood that stained her hands red. The light in her father’s eyes slowly disappearing with his last breath. The feeling of helplessness as she could feel the warmth of his body leaving while the rain washed away his remaining body heat. His last chuckle as he took joy in finally being able to see his child cry for the first time. How ironic that the sadness of his own child would bring happiness to himself. Placing an arm over her eyes, Byleth could feel a dampness on her arm. Was it the rain? No, she was inside the dormitory. These were tears, the first ones she had shed since... since then.

With no hope of falling asleep, Byleth stood from her bed, dragging her feet to the door. She wrapped her fingers around its rusting copper-plated handle, pulling on it and allowing the cold wind chilled by the icy rain to rush into her sparse bedroom. Tugging her coat tightly around herself, she stepped out of the confines of the dorm and into the stinging rain.

~~~~

“I have to say, no one knows strategy quite like you do, Claude.”

“What unexpectedly high praise coming from Your Highness! I thank you graciously.”

“That’s enough. No need to mock me.”

The blond leader of the Blue Lions and the leader of the Golden Deer with sun-kissed skin walked side-by-side from the Knights’ Hall, books in hand. Both having heavy responsibilities weighing on their shoulders with the title of “leader” branded on them, they had decided to study well past resting hours to brush up on their skills as commanders. Claude known as a tactical genius and Dimitri being called the prodigy in combat, they often shared their knowledge of their individual specialties to improve themselves. Provided that the Knights’ Hall had facilities to study both the theoretical and practical, it was the perfect place for the two to host their study sessions.

It was only after the two boys stepped past the doorframe of the hall that they noticed the droplets falling from the overcast clouds above. Claude looked up with a glimmer of excitement in his eyes. Dimitri stretched his hand out past the roofed hallway, his face warping into an expression of slight awe as he felt the water covering his hand. Claude having been raised in Almyra, he was used to being in a warmer climate with just a few showers sprinkled throughout the year. The Blue Lions leader, on the other hand, had only known the harsh and brisk cold of ice and snow in the northern lands of Faerghus. There, the temperature never warmed up enough for the snow to melt into rain. The two were happy to see the rain, to say the least. Claude turned his head to Dimitri, seeing the growing smile on the Crown Prince’s face as Dimitri experienced the phenomenon of rain for the first time. The Almyran student burst out in a boisterous laugh, bent over with hilarity.

“Your Highness, you look even more childish than Lysinthea right now!” Immediately, Dimitri’s smile fell as blood rushed to his cheeks to signal his flustered state.

“I look nothing of the sort!” the blond prince retorted. “It’s just that this is the first time I’ve witnessed rain.” As he uttered his excuse, Dimitri’s voice tapered into a barely audible mutter with feelings of embarrassment overwhelming his consciousness. Sheepishly, the prince placed his hand on the nape of his neck.

“I’m just teasing. Hey, what do you say we walk in the rain? It’s been a while since I’ve felt the rain,” Claude suggested with a mischievous glint in his eye, Dimitri pondered for a moment, the royal upbringing in his blood telling him that getting drenched in rain was unbefitting of a future King. But who was there to watch? He chuckled and nodded his head.

“In that case, I’ll take you up on that offer.”

~~~

In her dazed walk around the monastery, Byleth found herself standing face-to-face with the graves of her parents as the rain crashed deafeningly around her. The flowers she left a few days ago had already begun to wilt, its petals drooping heavily and turning brown around the edges. Strangely, it was here beside the dying flowers and the rough-cut stone of the gravestone that Byleth felt the most warm, even with rain soaking her to the bone. Perhaps, without her knowing it, she was being embraced by the spirits of her mother and father. The exhaustion she had hidden for so many days from putting up a facade of continuing as usual –– as if everything was fine –– had finally emerged as her legs gave out beneath her, knees crashing into the muddy puddle gathered beneath her. If she screamed now to let go of all the agony bottled up inside her, would anyone hear her?

Byleth felt her body shake quietly as soft sobs wracked her body. The warm salty tears that fell from her eyes mixed with the cold droplets of the rain and soon, even she herself could not tell whether or not she was still crying. Crawling through the mud on her hands and knees, Byleth carried herself onto her father’s grave and hung her body over the headstone where the year of his death was permanently etched as a haunting reminder of that fateful rainy day. In the comfort of the faint presence of her parents, Byleth felt her eyelids droop shut, a peaceful rest overtaking her consciousness for the first time in weeks and the incessant white noise of rain fading into nothing.

~~~

As Claude walked alongside Dimitri amidst the crashing rain, Claude found himself lost in thought as he listened carefully to the sound of their heeled shoes clicking against the wet pavement which had not been drowned out by the surrounding ambiance. Dimitri stared outward towards a far-reaching future yet to come. Though they had shared moments of excitement just moments ago with the onslaught of rainfall, it was inevitable that these kinds of days would bring about a sense of deep contemplation and a sort of unreasonable melancholy that had no specific cause. Approaching the intersection of the path from the Knights' Hall and the corridor perpendicular to the Reception Hall, the two were prepared to turn the corner and head towards the dormitories when Claude caught a glimpse of a familiar black coat in the corner of his eye. He put his hand out, preventing Dimitri from taking a step further. Puzzled, the Faerghus prince stared bizarrely at the outstretched arm in front of him.

"Claude, what is it?" Awaiting a response from his Almyran friend but realizing after an extended period of silence that he would not get one, Dimitri looked up at Claude's face, following his eyeline until Dimitri too saw the black coat he often saw at the front of his classroom. The prince's eyes widened in shock as he came to realize what it was he was looking at.

"Is that... the professor?" Dimitri wondered aloud, though he knew already what the answer was.

"Yeah, sure is," Claude responded, his face contorted into an expression of deep concern, his eyebrows drawn together and his lips pressed into a thin line. "I can't believe I forgot."

"Forgot what?" Dimitri pushed with a frantic tinge in his voice, needing to understand why the person he held dear had been reduced to such a pitiful sight, slumped over a gravestone and passed out in the pouring rain.

"Her father. He passed away three months ago on a rainy day just like this." Dimitri felt his stomach drop, sinking indefinitely within himself. Suddenly, the rain no longer brought the same joy as it had before, instead becoming infinitely colder as he stood still staring at the limp figure of his professor in the distance. Abruptly, Dimitri broke out into a run, desperate to get to his professor and carry her to a covered shelter before she followed her father to the afterlife, suffering in these cold temperatures for so long. Claude followed suit as a twisting pain latched itself onto his heart. After three months, we were so quick to forget, quick to think that Teach was alright just because we were so relieved her face in front of us after she had locked herself in her dorm for a week. How did we not understand the amount of grief she hid inside, keeping her awake at ungodly hours of the night, when we had all suffered similar losses? No, rather, losses of a magnitude less than hers. After all, growing up, the only person who cared for Byleth growing up was Jeralt. At one point, being beside Jeralt was all she knew –– he was her world. And now, with him gone, Byleth must feel alone beyond comprehension in this twisted world she has yet to understand. The heavy footsteps of the two boys slowly came to a stop as they approached the curled figure of their precious teacher. They took note of her eyelashes softly brushing against the rosy apples of her cheeks, her forehead relaxed in a look that could only be described as dreamily serene. Yet, in this state of serenity, hints of her buried anguish could be seen in the tears that gathered in the corner of her eyes, sliding down the curvature of her face and down to her chin where, like the raindrops around them, they would fall one by one, dampening the earth beneath them. In a gesture of tender affection, Dimitri kneeled by his professor and gently brought his hand to her cheek, using the pad of his thumb to softly brush away her tears in an attempt to relieve some of her sorrow. As Dimitri’s eyes followed the trail of the tear as it dropped and disappeared into the grass of the graveyard, his attention was brought to the torn lace of her tights now covered in mud and the bleeding scrapes on her knees which had left trails of red to stain the stone grave of Jeralt –– all evidence of the somber scene of Byleth at her lowest, crawling on all fours to haul herself closer to her dead father.

All those times she said she was okay... when she said that she was alright... Dimitri and Claude thought to themselves, feelings of sympathy tearing their hearts apart.

There isn’t a person alive who’d really feel that way.

With dull and shadowed eyes, Claude hovered over the professor filled with self-frustration. I should’ve known. I should have noticed sooner. He brought his hand on to her head, stroking her hair now heavy with water not unlike the way a parent would pat their child’s head in consolation or praise.

“Let’s get her back to bed.” Carefully looping one arm under the bend of her knees and the other under her arms, Claude delicately lifted her off the ground as if holding a sculpture of fragile porcelain, his eyes watching Byleth’s face with a faraway, almost unreadable complexion of several emotions –– genuine love with a mix of a forlorn gaze, perhaps. As he made his way to the stairs leading back to the path to the dormitories, Dimitri stayed faithfully close to his teacher, glancing at the soft features of her face ever so often to make sure that she was still resting in a peaceful slumber.

Within a few minutes, Claude and Dimitri found themselves at the threshold of Byleth’s room, the door left slightly ajar from when Byleth had left the room earlier on. The blond prince entered first, holding the doors open so that Claude could carry the professor inside. After pulling back the wool blankets spread neatly across the bed, Claude gently placed Byleth on the sheet-covered mattress. He shifted towards the end of the bed to remove her shoes, loosening the laces of her boots before realizing the terribly weathered condition of her clothing, loose threads and hardened mud abound.

“Hey, Dimitri. Listen, I think we’re going to have to have to take off her clothes,” Claude said, breaking the somber silence.

“Wha–” Dimitri began, his head darting to look at his friend with incredulous eyes, ready to interject and ramble about how inappropriate it was to suggest such a thing at a time like this until he saw Claude’s hand pointing out her ragged clothes. He sighed before continuing, “I guess there’s no avoiding it. Let me at least give her my shirt so she has something to wear to sleep.” While Dimitri began unbuttoning his linen top hidden under the black coat of the Garreg Mach uniform, Claude worked modestly to remove the articles of Byleth’s clothing. First sliding her shorts and lace tights down the length of her legs, he then moved on to take off the surely restrictive and rigid pieces of armor decorating her arms and chest. Finally, placing his arm under her chest, he lifted her torso off the bed to peel off her black coat and lift her undershirt over her head, leaving Byleth in her undergarments. Though somehow, Claude managed to undress the professor he found undeniably attractive without any base desires or animalistic urges overwhelming him, he was sure that images of this very scene would torture him during the private nights alone in his bedroom. He found his eyes lingering a little too long on the soft hills of her breasts, the elegant curve of her neck, and the dainty slopes of her bare shoulders. After a few seconds of blatant staring, Claude hesitantly tore his gaze away from the professor.

From the corner of the bedroom, Dimitri faced Claude with an outstretched arm holding his shirt out towards the bed while the other arm covered his face which had become obviously red after he caught a glimpse of the soft curves of his teacher’s body. Her pale complexion glowed with the moonlight that filtered softly through the translucent panes of the window, making Byleth appear almost too ethereal to be real.

“Here, take this,” Dimitri managed to say with a shaky breath.

“Thanks,” Claude replied.

The sound of rustling fabric flowed through their ears as Claude rushed to thread Byleth’s arms through the sleeves and button up the shirt so she was decently covered.

“And done,” Claude muttered under his breath. As a final touch, the Almyran student tugged the blankets back to cover the professor, tucking her in to ensure a sleep full of warmth. Standing up from his position kneeling on the floor, Claude opted to take a seat on the edge of the bed, twisting his head over his shoulder to see the continued tranquility radiating from Byleth’s face. Dimitri followed, taking a seat beside Claude at the edge of the mattress.

“Claude...” Dimitri murmured quietly in the dark of the night. As if reading his friend’s mind, Claude replied almost instantaneously.

“Yeah, I know.” Mixed feelings of guilt, worry, sorrow, love, and affection accumulated within them, coming together to form a complex emotion that made their hearts ache for the woman before them. Dimitri, bursting at the seams with these overflowing sentiments, wished to express them aloud to help himself comprehend what he felt, but he could only call out his friend’s name before falling silent, not knowing what to say next. But Claude understood, and his three-word reply was enough for the two of them to know the mutual feelings they shared.

Resting his hand atop Byleth’s forehead, Claude brushed back her bangs and brought his lips down to press them in a feather-light kiss on the crown of her head, a display only exhibited by the most intimate of lovers. Dimitri slid his hand into Byleth’s, weaving his fingers through hers before lifting her thin hand to his head in a position of repentance for letting her suffering continue as long as it had. After the two felt satisfied with their personal goodbyes to their professor, they stood up from the bed, prepared to head back to their individual rooms when Byleth whimpered faintly, sensing the loss of weight and warmth as Claude and Dimitri moved farther away. Reaching out her hands, she grabbed at the fuzzy outlines of her students she could barely make out through her bleary eyes. Feeling her hands wrap around thick garment, she tugged on the fabric in her grasp to keep them from leaving.

“Please... stay... don’t leave me alone...” she whispered, a silent tear forming once again in the corner of her eye as she drifted back to sleep with memories of the isolation she felt with her father’s death. With her mind moving back to a state of unconsciousness, her grip on Claude and Dimitri’s uniforms loosened until her hands hung limply off the bed. All it took was a quick glance at each other and Claude and Dimitri confirmed that there would be no leaving Byleth tonight, no matter how immodest it may seem when they wake up in the morning. Kicking off their own shoes and peeling off the outer layers of their uniforms, the boys were left in their undergarments as they quickly climbed back into the bed, Dimitri on Byleth’s right side and Claude on the left. While Dimitri slid his arm securely around her midriff, Claude snaked his arm right under her breasts, creating a safe haven of warmth reinforced by the blanket that trapped the heat in their bodies. Raising his lips to the shell of her ear, Claude whispered sweet nothings and promises to stay by Byleth’s side, hoping that these messages would ease the worries of her subconscious. At the same time, Dimitri placed a blazing trail of kisses along the length of her neck and down to the curve of her shoulder, leaving behind love marks that would remind Byleth of his presence in her life –– of the fact that she was not alone.

I’m sorry. I love you. This was the message Claude and Dimitri communicated with their whispers and tender kisses as they drifted off to sleep alongside their beloved Byleth, hoping that with the arrival of the new mornings, time and their care could heal the scar of her loss.

~~~

My dudes, I was feeling some type of way at 2am listening to the fe3h ost and nostalgic pokemon soundtracks with rain/thunderstorm ambiance. I literally just made a new blog to write this angsty shit because I was so caught up in that sad music and late-night mood. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this fic! If you ever end up reading this again, I recommend you read it with the second half of Fated Death or Unfulfilled from the fe3h ost playing the background because those tracks match the mood pretty well. Or a sad Nintendo ost with rain ambiance. I promise, it hits different. Lemme know if you guys have any future angst requests you want me to write!

#claudeleth #claude x byleth #fe3h #dimitri x byleth #fe3h claude #fe3h dimitri #fire emblem #golden deer #blue lions #fe16 #fe three houses #claude von reigen #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #byleth #dimileth #fanfic

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