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descendantofthesparrow · 3 years

Text

Huma x reader (mainly showing Harry x reader) - slowburn oneshot - brand new

wattpad version (smut included)

Ao3 version (smut included)

-This is a smut oneshot(edit; turned into a slow burn oneshot that goes into smut cuz I can edit2.0; this tumblr version doesn’t have smut in it, it is hinted at but otherwise its not written but I will link to the AO3 and Wattpad versions that will have the smut posted) because im trying to practice writing it and (y/n) is written with she/her pronouns and has female body parts because, again, im still practicing on smut and want to get used to writing my own…body type before I branch out to attempt to write any other type anyways LETS GET TO IT-

Your leg bounced as you stared at the wooden swing doors of Ursula's chip shop. Harry had left to do some errands two hours ago, and usually he got those particular errands, collecting payment for the protection of shops and territory, done within two hours.

But it had been a whole two hours, you glanced at the clock again, and two minutes. Something burned in your gut, telling you something was wrong. You wouldn’t dare voice your concern in front of the crew and the chip shop customers, you would be cackled at for even entertaining the idea of worrying about someone, even if it was Harry.

You and Harry weren't close, you were just a simple crew member on Uma’s crew, you had joined after their adventure to the isle of the doomed so you didn’t have the bond that the crew had after going through something life-threatening. You were pretty sure Harry didn’t even know your name!

But that never stopped the butterflies in your head and stomach when you heard him laugh, never stopped the heat creeping up your neck when he smirked, never stopped the fuzzy feeling in your head when his ever so bright ocean blue eyes lined with black liner scanned the crew, never once locking onto you but that didn’t stop your heart from beating faster than a hummingbirds wings…whatever hummingbirds were but Gil had rambled about them one day after he found a bird fact book and that particular fact stuck in your head.

Besides, Harry practically had every vk at his feet, hell you were pretty sure Uma liked him too, and he liked her, with how they looked at each other it was a wonder that the entire isle didn’t ‘gossip’ about them.

And you were nothing compared to Uma, who in all honesty, was fucking gorgeous, so you could never blame Harry if he chose her out of all his “suitors” because who were you compared to Uma? You were just the daughter of simple thieves who had unfortunately been sent to the isle.

You looked at the clock again and frowned, it had only been another two minutes but that didn’t stop the pit in your stomach from growing. If Harry wasn’t back by 8:30, which was a bit less than a half-hour from now, then you would go looking for him…well if Uma didn’t send anyone out to look for him first, but she trusted him so she might not send anyone out at all.

But like you, Uma nervously glanced at the doors and clock every few minutes, like you, she also felt something was wrong but had to keep her usual calm demeanor in front of the crew.

You made eye contact with her after looking away from the clock again, Uma raising her brow in curiosity as you felt your ears burn and you looked to the doors quickly.

You counted down the minutes to 8:30, your fingers tapping rapidly against your tray of food and the heel of your boot hitting the leg of your stool in time.

It had been two and a half hours after Harry left for his errands, and you had finally had enough, you made eye contact with Uma as you stood and she nodded, glancing towards the doors then the sword check then back at you.

You somehow understood each other and you nodded back, heading towards the doors quickly as you snatched your cutlass from the sword check and raced out the chip shop in search of Harry.

You hopped over a rusted metal fence and landed on your toes; your eyes wide with caution. you were now just along the lines of territory a rival gang that had been attempting to take Uma’s territory for the past couple months. After you had gone to all the areas that Harry was supposed to go for his collecting route, Dizzy, bless her little heart, had nervously told you about Dylan, Clayton’s son, and his gang had ambushed Harry just a bit after he had finished up at Dizzy’s and kidnapped him and stole all the money he had just collected.

So you went to go collect the pirate and the money they had stolen, they were probably going to keep him for ransom against Uma, but what ransom would they have if there was no pirate or money?

You may have been the daughter of two ‘simple’ thieves but….then again, they were simple on the isle, not in Auradon.

Your lip twitched as a bout of cruel laughter echoed out from the building, you sprinted forward silently as you noticed one of the gang members on lookout duty starting to come around the corner to your right. You took a leaping step, catching yourself on an open window ledge and pulling yourself up swiftly, jumping up the three feet gaps between the windows as the guard passed below you not even knowing you had been where he was walking just a moment ago.

You thanked whatever god was out there for your (dad/mom) teaching you how to free run when you were younger. You peeked into one of the dark floors of the building, pursing your lips a bit as you remembered that their gang site was in an abandoned parking lot. Not much room for error, or hiding places.

You hopped through the window and landed silently on your feet, stopping as another bout of laughter echoed below you.

They kept to the lower floors then, which was good to know, it also meant both an easier and harder escape once you had Harry. Easier because less distance between Harry and the exit, harder because less distance between the exit and the gang.

You ran over to the stairwell; glad you had decided to wear your shoes with no heel as it made running quietly much easier. You grinned as you stepped into the stairwell, no door. hopefully, the other floors didn’t have them either, or else if they squeaked both you and Harry would be in for some shit.

You glanced at the faded number on the wall.

The seventh floor, wow you had climbed quite a bit, hadn't you? You shook away the thought, swiftly yet carefully climbing down the stairs, scanning each floor as you arrived to check for the gang.

Finally, you arrived on the third floor, the only floor with any light coming from it. You moved to stand flush against the wall next to the doorway of the floor, peering in as best you could without anyone seeing you, glancing every now and then to the stairway for any other gang members.

You huffed quietly as Dylan pushed at Harry's limp head, cackling and muttering to himself as he circled Harry like a bloodthirsty shark. You grit your teeth as you got a good look at Harry in the dimly lit area he was in. he was tied to both a structural beam and a folding chair, blood dripped from the side of his head down to his jaw and off his chin, he was starting to bruise on his face, neck, and possibly his torso and wrists, but those weren’t visible at the moment so you settled for guessing his injuries.

His right ankle was also at a VERY worrying angle…you might have to take some drastic measures to get Harry out of this parking garage.

Dylan was muttering something about how Uma would bow to him when she found her ‘precious’ first mate all bloody and beaten, and how he would finally have command of the wharfs.

“not on my watch” you muttered, quickly coming up with a plan and digging into your thigh bag, pulling out a handful of mini smoke bombs that your (dad/mom) had made forever ago in case one of the three of you needed them. You took out your lighter and lit the fuses, chucking them into the room and smirking as they landed right beside the gang members, luck seemed to be on your side today.

“what the hell-HOLY-“ Dylan let out a high-pitched screech as smoke burst from the nozzle of the smoke bombs and quickly filled the room, for being the size of ping pong balls they sure packed a wallop of smoke.

Pulling up your bandana to prevent any smoke inhalation you dashed into the room, running towards Harry but was stopped as a foot came arching your way. You held up your arms in front of your face and blocked the kick, stepping back quickly as the gang member started swinging at you, grunting with effort as you dodged and misdirected his punches.

“WHO THE HELL IS THAT?!” Dylan yelled, you smirked under your bandana, you weren’t really a known member of Uma’s crew, liking to keep to the shadows and out of sight.

You took the moment of disorientation from Dylan’s yell that caused the gang member to slip up and ducked under his next swing, one arm grappling around his next ant clasping with your other hand, your right foot going behind his ankle and pulling him forward flipping him over and slamming him into the ground with a loud crack.

He was out for the count, now, you looked up and around you, through the smoke you could see maybe 9 members left, including Dylan. Should be easy enough, you glanced at Harry, frowning slightly as he started to cough, but you would have to work quickly so Harry didn’t get all the smoke in the garage in his lungs.

You threw yourself back as another lackey of Dylan’s threw a punch at you, you decided to make quick work of them and grabbed their wrist, pulling it up and back towards them, smirking at the sickening pop that sounded from their shoulder. They screamed and dropped to the ground in agony, yelping as you leaned back from a sweeping air kick and slammed your hands onto the floor, using the momentum and lifting your legs back with you.

Your foot slammed into the next lackey's chin and he fell back, his skull slamming against the floor with a crack. You rolled back into a summersault and stood on your feet, catching the leg that was aimed at your chest and pulling the lackey towards you, kicking them twice in the stomach then throwing them over your shoulder with a twist of your torso and a spin of your feet.

They crashed to the floor just next to Harry, who was just barely coming to consciousness and jumped at the loud noise. He squinted through the smoke and dimly lit area, eyes widening as he spotted the spray panted symbol of Uma’s crew plain on your jacket sleeve.

Dylan watched in shock as you easily took out his gang members, and when the final one fell, he could feel the smug grin you had when you turned to face him.

Dylan let out an intelligible yell and rushed at you, only for his world to go black as you stepped to the side, grabbed his arm, turned your back to his chest, and swung him over you using his momentum.

Dylan and his gang were out for the count. And with Dylan knocked out the smoke finally cleared and all that was left was the dimly lit floor, the unconscious bodies of the gang, and an injured Harry.

You let out a soft sigh and pushed down your bandana, walking towards Harry and flipping out your pocket knife, kneeling next to Harry and cutting the ropes around his wrists and legs, then the ones around his torso keeping him to the beam. “woah-“ you pressed your hands against Harry's chest gently as he tried to rush out of the chair. “-hold up, you’re really hurt” Harry looked down at you, and you winced as you saw his swelling eye and bleeding nose for the first time, his lip was busted too.

“who-“ Harry slurred, trying to ask for your name or your rank in the crew but was unable to get the words out still being very much out of it from being jumped and beaten.

“im (y/n), im a regular ol’ crew member, and I got worried about you and came looking, come on, there are still some members on guard duty and we need to skedaddle before they come up” Harry gave a slow nod and with your help got to his feet, letting out a yelp as he put too much pressure on his broken ankle.

“um, okay” you quickly thought up a plan and had Harry lean on you almost completely, cursing Dylan for making the main part of his hideout on the third floor, now you had to get Harry down three flights of stairs just to get him to the doors. You and Harry froze at the sound of heavy footsteps running up the stairs, you let go of Harry's hand and lowered him to the ground, quickly jumping into a fighting stance and glaring at the stairwell doorway.

You felt Harry's eyes on you as did so, but you did your best to ignore him and the butterflies that swarmed in your stomach. You slumped as Gil’s concerned face popped above the stairs, his eyes widening as he looked at Harry “holy heck, what happened?” Gil asked, walking over to Harry and checking him over.

“Dylan wanted him for ransom for the captain's territory, I took care of it” Gil gave you a look, you were never one to take initiative in the crew, well he didn’t either but you always stayed in the background, always seeming too scared to do anything about…well anything.

So for you to go out of your way to save Harry made Gil want to scratch his head. It clicked for him a moment later when he remembered how you always stared at Harry, with a look he could never put his finger on. Yes, Harry was the first mate and any of the crew members should put their life on the line to rescue him if needed but you didn’t do this as a crew member, you did this out of your personal feelings.

Gil, for once, didn’t think aloud, just hoisted Harry into his arms, ignoring Harry's protests and light smacks against his shoulder, and walked down the stairwell, you taking a moment to collect Harry hook that had been attached to one of the lackeys and running after them.

You stood awkwardly at the door frame of Harry's room as Gil set the injured pirate on his bed, you had never seen his room before, it was…a decent size, but you forced yourself not to memorize it for…reasons.

“I’ll tell Uma” you muttered aloud, walking away from Harry's room as you saw Gil nod, not seeing Harry strain his body in an attempt to keep his eyes on you.

When you arrived back at the chip shop and quietly informed Uma of the situation, she cursed and looked to the clock, she wasn’t off till midnight and it was only 9:15, she had another two hours and forty-five minutes before she was off and then she still had to clean!

“just-have Gil take care of him” she muttered back, pushing you back towards the chip shop doors “there's a medical kit in my quarters, under the board just left to the door, it'll jiggle when you step on it, give that to Gil and he’ll know what to do” you nodded and ran back to the ship, not wanting Harry to suffer for any longer than he was.

You went to Uma’s quarters, whistling a bit at the size of the room, and turned to the left, flipping up the loose board and taking out the large duffle bah with the red plus symbol on the side. “this has to be it” you muttered, standing and walking out of the room, closing the door behind you and making your way to Harry's room. you peeked into the room, frowning at the sight of Harry's very swollen turning very red and dark purple ankle. You knocked on the door frame and stepped into the room, handing the duffle bag to Gil.

The boys seemed to realize exactly where the bag was from and looked at you apprehensively, gosh sometimes you forgot how protective of Uma they were, even if it was a simple item. “she gave me permission to get that, I'll be out of your hair now” you spun on your heel and speed-walked out of the room, ignoring the butterflies in your gut as you felt Harry's eyes on you again.

It took Harry almost two months to heal from his injuries, his ankle still had ways to go so he was forced to be on the bench for crew activities and his usual errands until he could walk without his ankle being at a weird angle or him wincing in pain every time he took a step or shifted his ankle.

Gonzo and Bonnie took over his usual errands as Gil took over as temp-first mate until Harry was all healed up.

During those two months, you had noticed something….new.

Harry and Uma had taken to staring at you…a lot…like a lot a lot.

At first, you thought you were imagining things, the feeling of eyes constantly on you, then you thought that maybe some of Dylan's gang members had found out you were the one to sabotage his plan and were spying on you.

Those thoughts went out the window when one day you turned to look over your shoulder and saw Harry and Uma staring directly at you, Uma leaning on the long table on her elbows as Harry covered his mouth and some of his nose with his chin resting in his palm. You snapped your head back around and curled in on yourself, willing the heat growing up your neck to go away.

The next odd thing to happen was Uma beginning to actually…use you for crew things? Usually you just kinda…sat back and watched as everyone else did stuff, not of your own violation or laziness, it's just that Uma and Harry never seemed to…have anything to do for you?

But now it seemed like Uma was actually trying to include you in pirate activities, even once assigning you to her when the ship needed some maintenance on its ropes. She also started to either keep close to you as you trained in combat with the crew or sometimes even training you herself.

Which led to some…situations, you see, while you were pretty much an expert in hand to hand combat you fucking sucked with swords so once in a while you fumbled with your sword and…Uma while not being a PDA person, well unless it was Harry but even then, would walk toward you and correct your grip, stance, your free hand for balance, and even lead you in some sort of weird dance to help you learn your footwork.

It was like she was…sizing you up, if that was the best word, always keeping her eye on you, asking you random questions, making you help out in the chip shop, and just…having you be around her more than you used to.

Then there was Harry, after two months of just staring at you, he started talking to you, first “thanking” you for saving his ass from Dylan, aka he made you a bracelet and tossed it in front of you with a nod and a mutter of “thanks”. Gil had muttered next to you that Harry liked to make people stuff as a way to thank them, and held up his own bracelet that Harry made for him when they were younger “it's just one of the ways he shows appreciation!”

Then it moved to small conversations about random things, they weren’t long, just…small talk when you ended up in the same place as each other or when you were both on nightshift guard duty. The staring hadn't stopped, but you didn’t mind it as much as you used to, knowing it was Harry and Uma keeping their eyes on you, for whatever reason, but it made you feel….safe? you didn’t know the feeling that came with them watching you but you knew it wasn’t scared or threatened.

One day Harry asked you to practice some knots with him, setting up two crates and making you sit across from him. As you worked on learning how to make a round turn and two half-hitches knot, Harry stared at you, watching you ever so carefully, drifting his gaze from your concentrated face to your swift and calloused fingers as you successfully pulled the knot together, looking up at him with a shy grin, seeking his approval.

He smirked and nodded, patting your knee and beginning to instruct you on how to do other knots, in a softer voice than before. Next, is something that took you a pretty long time to notice but, they started to get physically closer to you when they could. Like when the crew crowded around the table for mealtime at the chip shop. In the beginning, you always sat at the farthest end of the table, always keeping to yourself and trying not to bother anybody.

But as time went on, you were slowly being pushed towards the middle of the table where Uma, Harry, and Gil always sat, or sometimes you would sit in your usual seat and Harry or Uma would be away from their seats and closer to you. You didn’t notice any of this until your shoulder was in line with Harry’s, his jacket brushing against your arms and legs knocking into yours.

They both seemed to also attempt to get you into conversations more, Uma’s hands ending up on your arms or shoulder when she talked to the crew if they weren’t on Harry's shoulder, Harry leaning in close to you when you had your little conversations, Uma staring intently as you trained with the crew.

Most of this you didn’t notice, being the oblivious and overthinker person you were, you brushed off the thought of a possible connection with the two and thought they were just doing what captain and first mate did, have a good relationship with a crew member was essential.

What you didn’t see was the crew smirking as Harry stared at you, snickering when Uma rested her hand on your shoulder, whispering to themselves as their eyes always flashed over to you when you walked through the doors, gossiping when Harry sneaked his own food onto your plate.

Even Gil, who was admittedly a bit airheaded, could see what was going through the minds of his two oldest friends. He just grinned and leaned back, knowing he had started it all when he had told Uma of his “theory” of you possibly having feelings for her first mate/kinda boyfriend.

She at first just wanted to size you up, to see if you were “worthy” of her best friend, she and Harry had an open relationship, if either of the others wanted to get with someone else as long as they talked it through and got consent it wasn’t a problem. Uma just wanted to see if you wouldn’t hurt Harry.

She didn’t expect to catch feelings for you. It was something that boiled beneath the surface of her skin as it developed, she didn’t even notice it happened. The feeling of sparks dancing across her fingertips when her hand touched yours when she fixed your grip on your sword, the burst of warmth beneath her skin when she locked eyes with you, the flutter in her gut when you laughed at one of Gil’s stupid jokes or Harry’s dumb stunts.

It was all the same feelings she got when she was around Harry, but it took only one moment for her to realize she had fallen for you. It was just supposed to be a regular Sunday on the isle, it was her day off so she decided to spend it with you meandering around the marketplace, not particularly looking for anything just browsing.

Their time at the market had been shortened by the arrival of Dylan, taunting Uma and getting in her face. “come on shrimpy!” he snickered, his gang behind him cackling loudly “too scared to go against me-GUk” Uma snapped her head around to look at Dylan as he suddenly gasped for breath and her eyes widened in shock. Dylan was on his back, holding his gut as you stood in front of Uma, tilting your head dangerously as the gang took a step back.

“not a good idea to disrespect the captain, Dylan” you growled, sending a shiver down Uma’s spine, you weren’t much a talker, and when you did it was soft, but now? There was a thick tension to your voice, almost reminiscent of Harry's low growly tone when he got angry.

Dylan slowly sat up and glared at you, eyes widening as he realized who you were “you’re-you’re the bitch that” he paled at the smirk on your face.

“that kicked your asses? All on her own? Yeah, I’m that bitch, now back the fuck up before I snap your teeth with my boot” Uma swallowed around the rising heat in her neck, rolling her shoulders to get rid of the uncomfortable tension that was growing inside her.

Dylan let out a snarl and snapped his fingers, three of his lackeys running towards you, all yelping as you took them down with ease. Uma smirked as the lackeys landed next to Dylan, who then stood quickly and bolted the other way.

Dylan stood and looked behind him, freezing as he noticed almost all his gang had abandoned him, the only one left was his right-hand man, who stared at you with wide fearful eyes. Dylan slowly turned as he heard you crack your knuckles and squeaked as you gave a sharp smirk “this is the part where you run away~” you giggled, holding in a loud laugh as Dylan and his last lackey turned and ran with their tails between their legs.

You rolled your shoulders with a sigh and turned back to Uma, feeling your cheeks burn as she stared at you with wide eyes “uh…captain?” Uma snapped out of her trance and smirked at you.

“and here I thought Harry lied to me about your fighting skills~” her smirk softened as you tugged at your shirt. “come on, let's finish up here”

It was only when you returned to the ship and Uma got a moment to herself, that she realized what those feelings were in the market, they were the same feelings she got when she looks at Harry.

She liked you…a lot. Uma let out a low groan and sunk into her chair in her quarters, now she had to deal with feelings for her chaotic dumbass first mate and the oblivious yet badass crew member.

She went from just checking you out to make sure you were good for Harry to now fucking liking you…what a trope huh?

Harry on the other hand, had realized his feelings from the start, they were very small to start with, he hadn't even known your name before the fateful day when you saved him from Dylan.

It felt like his heart was jumpstarted as he locked eyes with you as you flipped Dylan over your back, sparks running across his skin when you undid the ropes around his wrists.

First, he was impressed, you had gone out of your way to save him and then took down almost an entire gang, some of the members easily overtaking you in size and strength but you took them down as if they were nothing. Then you had been so protective of him as you tried to make your way out of the parking garage with him, even getting ready to fight Gil before you knew it was Gil.

As you walked out of Harry's room after giving Gil the medical pack, he had asked Gil what your position on the crew was. As Gil told him about you, he remembered when you told him your name and he quietly muttered it, smiling slightly as he decided it fit you perfectly

Then he was amused, you were much shyer than he thought you would be, you were always by yourself in a corner, keeping to yourself and never talking to anyone. As he moved closer to you during meal times, he enjoyed the little sarcastic comments you muttered to yourself as you listened to whatever the crew was talking about. He giggled to himself at the look on your face when he dropped the ‘thank you’ bracelet in front of you, mentally dancing in excitement when he saw you wearing it the next day and then never take it off, he didn’t know why he mentally danced in excitement but he brushed away the implications of it.

Then he and Uma started to attempt to get closer to you, well Uma was doing…her own thing while Harry was trying to get closer. First, he started with having you learn and help him tie the ropes around the ship, watching you as you at first fumbled with any type of rope he attempted teaching you, his heart fluttering when you finally got it and looked up at him for approval, a shy grin on your face.

He watched enraptured as you trained with Uma, chucking as he could imagine the steam coming off your face as Uma placed her hands on your hips and hands and corrected your stance. He cackled when you knocked Gil to the floor on a hand-to-hand combat training day, falling to his side as you leaned over Gil's dizzy self with your hands moving about unsure of what to do.

He watched you interacted during the quiet moments of the night when you would both be on night shift watching the ship, your shy nature seeming to melt away under the cloudy black sky as you rambled about whatever you were thinking about. He never really noticed himself leaning ever so close as you talked, only able to focus on you.

He noticed the crew teasing him and Uma pretty early on, though they were easily silenced when either him or Uma glared at the crew.

One day, he realized he was smitten with you. The crack of your voice when you got nervous, when you fidgeted with your rings, the smirk on your face when you flipped one of the crew members over your back, the laugh that spilled from your lips when you finally got the hang of using your sword, when you rubbed your thumb against your lips as you zoned out, it all made him feel warm inside, the same feelings he got around Uma.

He had to tell Uma about his feelings for you, they were in an open relationship but he wanted to make sure she was alright with you before he pursued anything with you.

One night after Uma finished up at the chip shop, she arrived to her quarters to see Harry sitting on her bed, playing with the curve of his hook as he waited for her. “Harry?” Uma groggily asked, she was exhausted but Harry never seeked her out after midnight, so something was up “what's going on, what do you need?” she closed the door to her room with her foot and slipped off her boots and hat, walking over to harry and flopping down on the bed next to him. “um-“ Harry stuttered, the red in his ears creeping down to his cheeks “yeh know (y/n)?” Uma perked up at that, pushing herself up with her hands and staring hard at Harry.

“yeah?” Uma’s heart sped up at the mention of the girl she had fallen for, god she hoped Harry wasn’t going to say he didn’t like her, and then Uma would feel like shit and she’d never be able to kiss the shit out of you till either of you couldn't see straight. “what about her?”

“I-um…I-…I like ‘er…like I like yeh” Harry’s face was almost crimson now, staring down at his lap as he played with the loose threads on his pants. “and-and I was wonderin’ if I-I could…um, invite ‘er into our relationship?” Harry's voice cracked at the end, oh so nervous and scared for what Uma was going to say.

“thank fuck I thought I was the only one” Harry snapped his head around to look at Uma, his mouth dropping open slightly “god fuck isn’t she so fucking pretty?!”

Harry let out a small sigh of relief and fully turned to look at Uma, sitting up on his knees “YES! Fuck she so pretty I just wanna smoother her in fucking i-gaaah ya know?!” he lifted his hands in front of his face and clenched them in an odd motion of frustration from (y/n)s prettiness. Uma laughed and nodded, grabbing onto Harry's hands and gripping them tightly.

“I do know, and I would be a hundred percent down for inviting her into our relationship, but!” Uma held up her hand as Harry gave her a wide grin, he deflated a bit and tilted his head “we need to make sure she's gonna be okay with this” Uma motioned between her and Harry “hell we don’t even know if she has feelings for us” Harry looked hurt at that, just wanting to drag you into bed with him and Uma already so he could smother you with cuddles and whatever couples did with their adorable significant others “I know, but we need to play this safe, I don’t want to scare her off”

Harry gave a slow nod, he wanted to do what he always did, rush into an idea with no real plan and just hope he didn’t die. But he would listen to Uma on this, she was a lot better with relationships then he was…well the logical part of them, he was better at feelings and physical stuff.

So the two talked into the night, deciding in the early morning that they would tell (y/n) about their decision on Sunday when Uma was off work.

Their talk happened on Wednesday, by Saturday afternoon Uma was off the isle, having dived through the barrier just before it closed and swimming to Auradon in search of revenge on Mal and to free the vks still on the isle.

It was only after she left that you realized you had fallen for Uma alongside Harry. The piercing feeling in your chest and gut every time you thought about your captain or even just being on the ship or chip shop slapped you in the face as you realized you fucking missed Uma, more than you should have.

You knew Harry missed Uma too, he had shut himself in his room soon after Uma disappeared at cotillion and refused to come out even when Gil asked. It wasn’t till his sister Harriet stormed onto the ship and dragged him out of his room that he seemed to be a little more like his usual self, he also started to hang around you more often and on the nights where you were on night guard duty he would join you, even when he didn’t have to anymore now that he was captain until Uma’s return.

Your mind was a maze, just trying to maneuver your feelings for both Uma and Harry, the feelings you had for Harry had multiplied for Uma, and now you couldn’t even think about either of them without heat rushing up your neck or butterflies rushing around your stomach.

Great, you had a crush/probably in love on the two people who were already “dating” each other, and both of them were so.damn.pretty. You groaned to yourself, covering your face and sinking to the ground in a crouch. Yeah, you had no fucking chance.

On the bright side, it did seem you were getting closer to Harry? So unrequited love aside at least you were getting a friendship out of it? The two of you started hanging out together more often than not, as you had mentioned before Harry joined you on night guard shifts, the two of you continued rope tying practice, started hand to hand combat training, he took Uma’s spot in teaching you how to use a sword, and sometimes the two of you would just…chill, hanging out in the bird’s nest drinking and eating whatever snack or food Harry had found, you leaning against his legs in the cramped space.

About five months after Uma had left the isle, the crew, aka Bonnie and Drey, decided to have a “bonding” night, forcing everyone into the chip shop after closing time, surrounded by rum and leftover food from the day to play truth or dare/seven minutes in heaven.

The rules were if you didn’t want to tell the truth or accept the dare, you had to spin the bottle and play seven minutes in heaven with whoever it landed on, and if you refused to play that, you'd have to take a shot of Desiree’s strongest liquor.

Bonnie, being the one who made the rules, went first, pointing to Gil and asking him truth or dare.

“Truth!” Gil chirped, already halfway through on his fries. Bonnie hummed for a moment and tapped her bottle of beer, trying to think of something good since Gil did tend to blurt out everything.

“who do you have a crush on?” Bonnie finally asked with a teasing smirk, laughing a bit as he pointed at Harry. “yeah, okay we knew that”

Harry blew a kiss towards Gil and Gil grinned and caught it, smacking it on his cheek and going back to his food as the crew burst into laughter. Gil tossed a fish stick into his mouth and looked around the group, pointing at Gonzo.

“truth or dare Gonzo” Gonzo let out a low hum and shrugged.

“dare” he muttered, thinking that Gil wouldn't be able to think of anything that bad. Oh, boy was he wrong.

Gil gave a nasty grin and stood, walking over to the kitchen and rummaging in the fridge for a few moments “oi what the hell are you doing?” Harry yelled, pouting as Gil didn’t answer.

Gil returned with something in his fist, his other hand keeping the unknown object hidden from sight. He stood in front of Gonzo and opened his hands, showing a snake egg. “eat up!”

“OH HELL NO” Gonzo yelped, smacking the egg out of Gil's hand, Drey and Jonas screeching as it smashed against the floor and black goo spread from the destroyed egg. Half the crew scrambled back from the egg, its rancid smell already beginning to spread around the chip shop

“ah Gonzo come on!” Emanuel complained, diving behind Gabe, the two pushing each other away and towards the egg in desperation to get away from it and doom the other to the smell.

You covered your mouth as you held in your laughter, falling to your side a bit and your head hitting Harry's shoulder as he cackled. “okay okay Gil, clean it up, Gonzo, either spin the bottle or drink” Gil begrudgingly cleaned up as Gonzo pouted at Harry.

Bonnie held up the empty rum bottle and wiggled her brows at Gonzo. He glared at her and snatched a shot glass from Desiree and took the shot, gaging a bit as it went down his throat “holy shit that’s strong” he shivered, the rest of the crew booing as he handed the shot glass back to Desiree.

Since Gonzo had forfeited the dare and seven minutes in heaven, Gil went again, this time picking Drey and the girl chose to do truth. “Ummm okay…uh, ever give a blowjob?” the crew whistled and hollered at the speedy turn towards the sexual end of questions and Drey snickered, shaking her head and holding up her hand to her mouth, only her pointer and middle finger around her lips as she winked and stuck her tongue through. “I’ll take that as a no” Gil laughed, taking a sip of his rum and leaning back on his elbows.

“your turn Drey” Bonnie called, stealing a crab cake from Zhao and laying halfway down on the floor, resting her chin in her palm. Drey tapped her chin, looking around the crew before her eyes landed on Yamato, who quickly leaned behind Gabe but was too late.

“Yamato, truth or dare” he kept behind Gabe for a moment longer before he sighed and leaned back to sit straight and looked at Drey in surrender.

“dare” he muttered, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and chin in his hands. Drey gave a wicked grin and looked around, trying to find something that would best work on Yamato.

“oh! I got it…lick Gabe's foot” the crew yelled out in disgust as Gabe laughed and pulled off his boot, shoving it towards the disgusted Yamato.

“NOPE gimme the bottle, GIMME THE BOTTLE ID RATHER MAKE OUT WITH ANYONE ELSE THAN LICK HIS FOOT GABE GET THAT AWAY FROM ME OR WE WILL THROW HANDS” Yamato shoved Gabe away from him, the cackling pirate falling on his back holding his chest.

Bonnie cackled and pushed the empty bottle of rum into the middle of the circle, Yamato sighed and leaned over to spin it, sitting cross-legged as everyone stared at the bottle in both excitement and anxiety.

Finally, the bottle slowed and landed on Zhao, the crew cheered and the two boys laughed, Zhao biting his bottom lip, squinting his eyes, and raising his brows.

“Alright come on Zhao les make out!” Bonnie stood and ran over to the closet that she had declared “heaven” the two boys joining hands and swinging them as they walked into the closet and Bonnie closed the door after them.

“have fun~ Gonzo set the timer!” Gonzo leaned over the took the timer/stop watch from where Bonnie was sitting and set it for seven minutes “im so glad that thing is basically soundproof I do not need to hear Yamato moaning” the crew snickered at that, Harry rolling his eyes and leaning towards you.

“five bucks Zhao gives Yamato a handy” you felt your cheeks burn at his low-toned voice and laughed a bit, nodding as he grinned at you.

“you’re on” you whispered, biting your lip as Harry patted your thigh and sat up straight again.

“who’s next?” Jonas asked, taking a swig of his rum and glancing about the room.

“I’ll just go again and when Yamato comes out hell go” Drey waved it off and looked around the room, pointing at Gabe “Gabe truth or dare!”

“Dare” Gabe snickered, falling off balance a bit as Drey pointed at Gil.

“sit in Gil's lap till someone picks you again” Gabe sighed and stood, plopping in Gil's lap and crossing his arms.

Gil didn’t seem to mind, reaching his arm over Gabe's waist to grab his food tray. “all right, Gonzo truth or dare!” Gonzo groaned, having only gone a couple of turns before but chose truth this time “have you ever given head before, doesn’t matter girl or boy just head” Gonzo tilted his head then nodded. the crew, minus you and Harry, wolf-whistled “yooo who!?” Gonzo grinned and shook his head.

“hey, I only had to answer if I have given it before not to who” Gabe pouted and leaned back into Gil.

“party pooper” Gonzo perked up and looked around the group, eyes landing on you, smirking as you shrunk into yourself in an attempt to make yourself invisible

“(y/n) truth or dare” you tugged at your shirt, trying to decide what to do, go with truth, and possibly reveal your crush on Harry and Uma? Be dared to do something embarrassing? Play spin the bottle? Or take a shot?

“um, truth” you squeaked out, Gonzo looking up at the ceiling as he tried to figure out what to ask you. Finally, he snapped his fingers as he looked back at you, having found the perfect question.

“Have you ever had sex? Or been with anyone for that matter?” you shook your head, you were a virgin through and through, you haven't even kissed anyone before. “huh, all right your turn”

You looked around the group, finally landing your eyes on Desiree who had been untouched the entire game “Desiree” she looked up at you, mid-sip on her rum “truth or dare?”

“Dare” she answered immediately, smirking as the crew ‘oooh’d at her. “gimme your best shot (nickname)”

“umm” you had never really…dared anyone to do anything before…this was gonna be tough. “lick the bottom of Bonnies boot” the crew stared at you for a moment as Desiree looked between you and Bonnie wide-eyed “what?”

“holy shit I thought you were gonna like, I don’t know, make me eat twenty crackers or something! But I’ll do it” the crew cheered and Gabe leaned over to give you a high five.

Bonnie lifted her boot into the air and cackled as Desiree just went for it, going sole to toe “AHHHH” Bonnie cackled, falling backward and holding her leg in the air. Desiree backed into her spot again and shook her head, hanging her tongue out of her mouth as she made gagging noises.

“tha’ wath stho groth” she gagged, grabbing a paper towel and scraping her tongue of the taste of Bonnie's boot. after a few moments of the crew laughing at her, along with the timer of Zhao and Yatamo’s seven minutes in heaven beeping, the two coming out of the closet with Messy hair, bruised lips and Zhao’s pants unbuttoned.

Harry pouted at you and took the five out of his wallet, placing it in your hand as you gave him a smug grin. “yeh won tha’ one lass” he laughed quietly, freezing as Desiree locked her eyes on him.

“Harry, truth or dare” Harry kept a staring contest with her, trying to predict what she was going to do.

Finally, he sighed “Dare” Desiree let out a cold cackle, Harry freezing again at it.

“let Gil give you a haircut” Harry immediately shook his head, Gil had cut his hair once before and he ended up with the worst patchy hair cut he had ever had, he only trusted two people with his hair, Uma, and Harriet. “alright then spin the bottle!” Harry sighed, he had a lot of work to do in the morning so drinking wasn’t the best idea so he took the bottle from Bonnie and spun it, mentally crossing his fingers that it would land on you.

You watched as the bottle spun around, pulling your knees to your chest and wrapping your arms around them. You did want the bottle to land on you but at the same time you hoped it wouldn’t land on anybody so you wouldn’t be going behind Uma’s back or so Harry wouldn’t be kissing someone other than you or Uma.

You felt the heat climb up your face as the tip of the bottle landed directly on you, the crew whistling and cheering as you buried your face in your knees. “wooooooo come on you two! Get to the closet.” Harry glanced at you and while he really wanted to go into the closet with you, he felt bad as you had completely turned into a ball of embarrassment.

“come on guys she obviously-OI” Gonzo and Jonas grabbed Harry's arms, carrying him to the closet and tossing him in, Drey and Desiree grabbing your hands and tugging you in after him.

They closed the door behind you, Bonnie going the extra mile and locking the door “Have fun~ seven minutes!” Bonnie’s muffled voice yelled through the door before it went silent.

You pressed yourself into the wall and sunk to the floor, holding your face in your hands and pulling your knees to your face. “(y/n)?” Harry quietly asked, kneeling in front of you and cupping your face with his hand, pushing your chin up to make you look at him “are yeh okay?”

“I-I just-“ you buried your face again, if you looked at him anymore you would throw your moral compass out the window and just kiss him silly.

“do yeh not like meh?” he asked, feeling a pit form in his chest at the thought of you not liking him in ‘that’ way, he blinked in surprise as you shook your head and looked back up at him.

“no-its, not that, it’s more…I like you…like a lot…more than I should, a lot” you whispered, biting your lip as Harry stared at you, not noticing him glancing at your lips “but you’re with Uma and I don’t want to ruin anything between the two of you even if it's just a dumb game and I don’t want to ruin our friendship with my dumb feelings even though I just blurted out every-“ you were stopped by a soft pair of plush lips, and in the dark of the closet you saw Harry very very close to your face, his eyes closed and hands gently cupping your jaw.

You decided to just let yourself enjoy the next seven minutes and closed your eyes, pressing back ever so gently back into Harry…your brain reminded you that Harry was your first kiss and you smiled, helluva first kiss if you did say so yourself.

Harry pulled back slowly and you fluttered open your eyes, biting your lip as Harry gave you a soft smile “yeh wouldn’t be ruining anything between Uma an’ I, we both like yeh and actually” Harry let out a nervous chuckle “we were goin’ ta ask yeh ta’ join our relationship a couple months ago but…Uma left before we could tell yeh…we were planning ta ask yeh the weekend that ended up filled with all the beasty boy stuff…” Harry hoped that you wouldn’t reject Uma, he loved both of you and he didn’t want to have to lose one to keep the other.

“I…Uma-“ you leaned forward, burying your face in Harry's shoulder “I like Uma too” you whispered into his shoulder, squeaking as Harry picked you up by your thighs and pushed you against the wall, his hips pressing into yours.

Harry smiled at you, pressing another kiss to your lips “good, we can have fun when she gets back okay?”

You whimpered into the kiss, nodding as he pulled back “okay” The two of you spent the next seven minutes exchanging kisses and feeling the room heat up as Harry continued to press his hips into yours.

You were soon interrupted by Bonnie yelling through the door “Times up you two!” Harry groaned and set you back on your feet, letting you hang on to him as you balanced on wobbly legs.

Harry knocked on the door, Bonnie quickly unlocked it at that and swung it open, giving the two of you a smug grin before her shoulders dropped

“oh come on it's like you didn’t do anything!” Harry rose his brow; he had bitten your neck and dry-humped you did it really seem like he did nothing? He turned to look at you, raising his brow as he realized you had quickly fixed yourself up and the only evidence to your heated time in the closet was your heated cheeks. “All right come on, Zhao’s on a dare right now and Gabe drank a shot”

You and Harry glanced at each other then back at the crew, walking out of the closet and taking your previous seats next to each other, Harry's arm now resting behind your back.

Things changed after that, the small conversations at night turned intimate, faces always close together and bodies touching, breath mingling, and Harry's lips pressing against your lips or neck every so often. Practicing knots went from sitting across from each other with Harry instructing you to you and Harry sitting so close your knees touched the inside of his thighs, his hands ever so gently guiding your fingers through the motions and his voice soft.

He started to pull you away at random moments to a hidden corner and curl himself around you, pressing his lips to yours with the others oblivious to your recent activities.

The two of you hadn't gotten to resume your session from the closet, leaving you frustrated and needy. You honestly just wanted Harry to ravish you until the sun came up.

What you didn’t know was that Harry was feeling the same way, frustration building in his body every time he looked at you, eyes burning into your lips and body, just wanting to drag you to his room and show you a whole new world. He thought of you every night, almost stomping to your room and taking you but holding himself back.

It was just getting too much for both of you, so one night, when Harry knew neither of you had anything to do the next day, snuck to your room and knocked gently on your door, not wanting any of the crew to hear knowing you wouldn’t want everyone to know your business.

“Harry?” you whispered, looking around the dark halls of the ship as Harry stared down at your lips, your body barely covered with only a loose shirt and some sweat pants “what's wrong? It's like, 2 am?” Harry leaned in and pressed his lips to yours passionately, curling his hands around your face and humming into it as you pressed back needingly.

He pulled back, just enough for your breath to mingle “darling” he purred, enjoying the way you squirmed at the tone of his voice “do yeh want to continue our little session from the closet?” he grinned as your eyes went wide and you nodded erratically. He pressed a quick kiss to your lips and grabbed your hand, pulling you out of your room and closing the door, the two of you sneaking back to his room.

That night was filled with heated kisses, whispered confessions, and bruised hips.

Everything changed again after that, the soft hidden kissed behind corners turned to heated make-outs, you still had soft kisses but more often than not it was passionate. You slept in Harry's room more often than not, not to have sex but simply because you liked being with him and him you. Your midnight talks being shoulder to shoulder turned to you being engulfed in Harry's arms and sitting between his legs as you talked about whatever you wanted. The practice tiring ropes became teasing, Harry sneaking kisses whenever he could

Harry went deeper into himself, and you learned almost everything from his favorite drink to his deepest fear, and he told you about Uma as well, letting you get to know her through another and you fell for both Uma and Harry more each day.

And you told him what you could, from your favorite color to your most embarrassing moment, it was…bliss, well as blissful a relationship could be on the isle.

About a year after the two of you got together, you watched as Harry and Gil dove through the barrier just as it was closing after the core four and Celia, messing with your bracelet nervously as you watched Gil and Harry fight with Carlos and Jay. Harry forced a blue gem out of Mal's hand and it soared over the water, Mal letting out a small scream before a turquoise tentacle reached up and caught it.

Your breath caught and you let a grin grow on your face “Uma” you whispered out, bouncing on your feet as Uma rose out the water, looking even more beautiful than the last time you saw her. Harry looked directly at you, the same feeling you had at seeing Uma swimming in his eyes.

Uma was back.

After Uma submerged into the water and sent a tunnel of water up and splashing the vks, she reappeared on the other side of the bridge, holding up the glowing gem Mal had been holding.

A few minutes of negotiating later, with Mal being stubborn as always, the vks were off to do whatever they were off to do, you didn’t know, the most you had heard was Mals muffled scream of ‘no’

Uma suddenly glanced back, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she looked at you. You gave her a grin and waved back, you guessed Harry had told her about the two of you and you hoped to hades that you would see them again and be able to kiss Uma finally.

Only a day later, in the early morning, Harry and Uma stepped into his room, Harry gesturing to his bed where you were sleeping curled up in one of his shirts and his blankets.

“aw,” Uma cooed, walking over to you and caressing your cheek, flinching back as your eyes snapped open and you sat up, a bright grin growing on your face as your vision refocused and you saw Uma.

“Uma~!” you squealed, launching yourself at her and tossing the two of you onto the ground, Uma chucking underneath you as her head was pinned to your shoulder. “you’re back!”

Harry smiled as you and Uma hugged on the floor “so Harry tells me you like both of us? And want to be with both of us?” Uma asked, sitting up with you in her lap.

Your face burned slightly but you nodded, smiling as Uma cupped your cheeks “good, but just so you know I will always choose sea ponies over both of you” you and Harry burst into laughter, a smile growing on Uma’s lips as she watched two of her three favorite people laugh.

“Harry already told me that part of the contract” you teased, leaning in and pecking Uma’s cheek, snickering as she froze and stared at you “what? I can’t kiss my girlfriend~?”

Harry chuckled and kneeled next to you and Uma, wrapping his arms around you and whispering in your ears “I think Uma’s bed is a bit better to fit all three of us eh?” you grinned, Uma’s face burning as she saw Harry wiggle his brows.

“I leave a virgin first mate and a shy oblivious crew member and come back to two horndogs…Christ remind me to never leave yall alone again”

“noted” you and Harry sang in unison, Uma laughing at it and shaking her head.

“Alright come on, let's go to my room.” you and Harry grinned, your arm going around Uma’s and grabbing onto her hand as Harry tossed his arm around her shoulder and the three of you walked into Uma’s room.

To which Uma was very VERY glad her room was soundproofed a long time ago.

-end-

side note with the smut, this was 50 pages and 15,676 words, without the smut its 32 pages and 9943 words which is still a lot but woza, like, 16 pages of the fic was dedicated to smut XD

permtaglist

@queer-cosette @sephiralorange (thank you for beta reading the smutty version don worry ill link the full version lol)

@lunanight2012 @daughter-of-the-stars11

@musicarose @rintheemolion

@jatp-rules-my-life @verboetoperee

@thecaptainsgingersnap @random-thoughts-003

@remembered-license @imtryingthisout

and because you asked me too since i used the crew names you created @askauradonprep

#Descendents #descendants #disney descendants #huma #huma x reader #smut implied #harry hook #harry hook descendants #harry hook x reader #harry hook imagine #uma descendants #lost revenge #lost revenge crew shinanigans

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years

Text

Same River Twice (aka Time Travel Nie Bros) - part 4 - see ao3 or tumblr part 1, part 2, part 3

“You know what,” Nie Mingjue said, several shichen into the most awkward conversation he’d ever been forced to overhear in his life, “I think Wei Wuxian needs more friends.”

His father stopped contemplating the window with an expression that suggested he was considering throwing himself out of it and looked at him. “So you’ve mentioned before.”

“Yes, I know,” Nie Mingjue said, because he had in fact brought it up after Nie Huaisang’s no doubt unintentionally apt suggestion. “But on second thought, he needs them urgently. As does Huaisang. You don’t want them growing up barbaric and unsocialized, do you?”

His father mouthed the words ‘barbaric and unsocialized’ to himself, looking delighted. “By which you mean that you’d like to take them to visit the Lan sect, I assume?” he asked, not bothering to hide his amusement. “To learn good habits from them there?”

“To avoid learning bad habits here,” Nie Mingjue said. “Alternatively, you could always kick all of them out so that all of us can stop getting the loud and dramatic rendition of all the different types of bad decisions adults can make, courtesy of our friends in the Jiang sect and our new guest disciples.”

“…take Zonghui with you,” his father said. “Have a nice trip. Enjoy the quiet.”

There was a better than decent chance that he was being sarcastic, but Nie Mingjue wasn’t going to wait around long enough to find out – he saluted and turned to run away at once.

“Don’t get into too much trouble!” his father shouted after him.

That was ridiculous. What sort of trouble could Nie Mingjue get into in Gusu, of all places?

“Nie-gongzi, has anyone ever told you that you have really weird taste in rewards?” Nie Zonghui said, looking long-suffering as always.

Wei Wuxian, who was riding on his shoulders, craned his head down to look at him. “Rewards? What is Nie-da-ge getting rewarded for?”

“He performed especially well on his first ever night hunt,” Nie Zonghui told him, while Nie Mingjue flushed red and Nie Huaisang, who was riding on his shoulders, giggled. “His father wanted to reward him, and determined to do so by granting the first request he made.”

“He didn’t tell me he was planning on doing that,” Nie Mingjue hissed. If he had, he might’ve asked to visit Yunping City to collect Meng Yao – finding a reason to go there was much harder to achieve than arranging a simple visit to the Lan sect, which would’ve happened sooner or later anyway.

His thoughts hadn’t been focused on reward at all. He’d only really, truly desperately wanted to get away from any further discussion of Sect Leader Jiang’s sex life.

(Cangse Sanren was blunt and straightforward in her speech, something Nie Mingjue greatly appreciated right up until she was shouting things about size and shape and performance and also her husband…it was absolutely mortifying, even just as a spectator, except possibly Jiang Fengmian was into things like that because he just kept on arguing. In his past-future life, Nie Mingjue had had to sit across the table from Jiang Fengmian for years, and might yet have to do so again if he was not successful in adverting his father’s death, which was something he wouldn’t be able to if he kept hearing things like this! He didn’t want to know things like this!)

No, Nie Mingjue hadn’t thought about rewards at all – had already put away all thoughts of that particular night-hunt in favor of showing of his improvement with Baxia, who practically purred in his hands when he wielded her, so that he could win his independence sooner rather than later.

Even picking Gusu as their destination had been primarily motivated by seizing on the last place anyone had mentioned to him as a plausible destination that could be sold to his father.

Nie Huaisang had asked him, all big and wide-eyed and adorable, why they were going to somewhere as far away from the Unclean Realm as the Cloud Recesses, and Nie Mingjue had blamed Nie Huaisang’s suggestion of introducing Wei Wuxian to the Lan sect.

Nie Huaisang had also asked why they were going now and Nie Mingjue had explained in a rush of tangled words that sometimes grown-ups liked to talk about private things very loudly and maybe it would be better to leave them to it.

Nie Huaisang had found that dreadfully funny for some reason, giggling until both he and Wei Wuxian were rolling around on the ground laughing their heads off at the idea of going to Gusu –

Nie Mingjue didn’t care. As long as they went, and with them his excuse to go as well!

(Besides, it would be nice to see Lan Xichen.)

“Of course he didn’t tell you about it, Nie-gongzi,” Nie Zonghui said patiently. “It was meant to be a surprise. Wouldn’t have been much of a surprise if you knew about it, would it?”

Nie Mingjue sighed. Nie Zonghui was a half-generation above him – older than him by over a decade, entitling him (if only technically) to be called uncle rather than cousin, but young enough that he sometimes felt more like a peer. Certainly once Nie Mingjue himself had become sect leader, having someone like him to help figure out how to communicate with the elders had been priceless.

That didn’t mean he didn’t want to punch the man in the face on a regular basis.

Stupid sense of humor.

“Wouldn’t da-ge be happier if he could pick what he got?” Nie Huaisang asked. “What if he’d asked for something stupid, like a map?”

Nie Mingjue reached up to one of the legs currently dangling next to his ear and pinched him lightly, making his little brother squeak and then giggle again. He wasn’t sure why Nie Huaisang was still so worried about his offer to buy him a map – he hadn’t even known that the under-five age group could have a sense of financial economy, much less guilt over it, but then again he didn’t know much about kids that age anyway – but no matter what he wasn’t having any of it.

In this life, his brother would be happy for as long as Nie Mingjue could give him.

Of course, making Nie Huaisang happy would be easier if he wasn’t so picky.

“Didi, didi, it’s all right,” he said, trying to be soothing and not really remembering how. “You don’t need to be afraid - Lan Xichen is a friend…I’m sorry, Xichen, I really don’t know what’s gotten into him.”

“It’s no problem,” Lan Xichen said, looking exactly as one would expect a nine-year-old being addressed as a peer by a twelve-year-old that his guardian routinely praised as a role model would be – which was to say, a little pleased, a little uncertain, and mostly confused. The shrieking four-year-old wasn’t helping matters, either. “I don’t think I’ve done anything to offend him...?”

“You’re blind,” Nie Huaisang hissed at him, tears still streaming down his face. “Blind, blind, blind!”

“No, Huaisang,” Nie Mingjue said helplessly. He had no idea where Nie Huaisang got these ideas into his head, was it a feature of early childhood or something? “He’s not – look, the bandage is around his forehead, right? Not his eyes. And since when do you have something against blind people anyway?”

Nie Huaisang buried his face into his side. “Stupid da-ge.”

Nie Mingjue patted him on the back. “Sorry,” he said to Lan Xichen again. “This isn’t exactly the first impression I was hoping for.”

Lan Xichen abruptly grinned, looking for a moment like a regular child rather than the polite and reserved young man Nie Mingjue had known for so many years – it reminded him a little of the boy from the future timeline that he’d only seen brief glimpses of through the pieces of his soul that were attached to the pieces of his body, the loud and irreverent one called Lan Jingyi.

Back then he'd wondered abstractly how exactly such a boy could be related to the Lan clan, stately and elegant even when they acted radically, and now all of a sudden he saw that boy staring out of him from Lan Xichen’s immature face.

“Bet you thought you’d look a lot more dashing, didn’t you?” Lan Xichen asked merrily. “Flying in on your swords, jumping down for a perfect landing, and then – waaaaaaah!”

Nie Mingjue laughed, because it really had happened a bit like that.

“Don’t forget the domino effect,” he said wryly, glancing over at where Wei Wuxian was being plied with treats from a bag pulled from Nie Zonghui’s sleeve – he’d started sympathy crying when Nie Huaisang had inexplicably started wailing, and was having trouble stopping even though he admitted that nothing was actually wrong with him other than having feelings. “They’re probably just over-tired from the trip.”

“Did you really fly all the way from Qinghe?” Lan Xichen asked eagerly. “All by yourself?”

“We made a lot of stops –”

“But you were on your own sword, right? Just you?”

“It’s a saber and I was carrying Huaisang, but yes, in terms of who was in charge of propulsion, it was just me.”

Lan Xichen heaved a sigh full of obvious envy, and Nie Mingjue smiled. “If you want, I can petition your uncle that you act as my guide to the surrounding environs as well as the Cloud Recesses itself? He’d have to let you fly by yourself if that was the case.”

“Oh, would you?” Lan Xichen enthused. “That would be great! I’m not that good yet, but I’m not going to get good if I don’t have a chance to practice, except Uncle is always saying that – oh, wait, I’m not supposed to say –”

“Speaking of others behind their back is prohibited,” Nie Mingjue said solemnly, then cracked up at the dumbfounded expression on Lan Xichen’s face. “No, I’m sorry, I won’t quote your sect rules at you, I promise, it was just a joke…”

“You’d better!”

He rather liked this enthusiastic version of Lan Xichen, Nie Mingjue thought.

Even Nie Huaisang seemed to have gotten over his initial fright to start begrudgingly enjoying all of Lan Xichen’s chattering and bustling around – Nie Mingjue thought he might, given that Lan Xichen currently reminded him immensely of an extremely chatty blue-breasted quail and Nie Huaisang had always liked those. There was so much life in Lan Xichen, good humor and cheer filling him up until he was practically bursting with it; he hadn’t yet had to learn how to hold back his feelings and hide them, hadn’t yet learned that the only acceptable way to interact with others was through a carefully practiced smile.

Perhaps what was why Lan Xichen had been so drawn to Meng Yao, Nie Mingjue reflected – Meng Yao had hidden himself underneath a smile, too. Where he himself had admired Meng Yao for what he had thought was his strength of character, his ability to ignore the jibes and the slights he faced in favor of carrying on and doing what must be done, just as Nie Mingjue longed to be able to do, perhaps Lan Xichen had from the very first moment seen Meng Yao as someone in need of sympathy and affection. Perhaps it had been his own suffering projected onto Meng Yao’s open, facile face that had so tugged on his heartstrings.

It was a little odd, though.

It was a long time ago, but Nie Mingjue recalled meeting Lan Xichen when they were both quite young, and if he put his mind to thinking about it, he was pretty sure they would have met in about two years’ time – his fourteen to Lan Xichen’s eleven, with Nie Huaisang nearly six and Lan Wangji nearly seven. And yet the Lan Xichen he had met had been so very different from this, far more serious and reserved, quiet more often than not, that practiced smile already on his face and only with great reluctance melting into something real…

He wondered why there had been such a great change.

In the meantime, Nie Mingjue relieved Nie Zonghui of his duties on account of their safety – the older man had been to Gusu before for discussion conferences, and looked extremely bored – and took Nie Huaisang’s hand in one hand and Wei Wuxian’s in the other, and the three of them followed Lan Xichen around as he pointed out all the things he liked best.

Wei Wuxian broke away at one point and sped into the brush, shrieking something about a rabbit, and when they gave chase and found him again, he’d somehow bumped into Lan Wangji, who with his white clothing and solemn expression resembled nothing so much a bunny himself.

“Nie-da-ge, this is my friend!” Wei Wuxian hollered, even though they couldn’t have been talking for more than a few minutes before the rest of them caught up. “His name’s Lan Zhan! I’m keeping him forever!”

Nie Huaisang sniggered, and Nie Mingjue poked him – it was rude to laugh at other people’s earnestness.

“That’s nice, Wuxian,” he said, and formally saluted Lan Wangji, knowing how much the other boy liked rules and things being done right. “I’m pleased to meet you, Wangji. I hope we can be friends as well.”

Lan Wangji stared at him mutely for a long moment, and then his entire face slowly turned bright red as if he were boiling.

Nie Mingjue blinked, unsure about the reason for such an extreme reaction, but standing beside him Lan Xichen cackled. “Oh, oh, this is great,” he crowed. “Wait till I tell Mom!”

Lan Wangji attempted to bite him, which naturally made Wei Wuxian leap to his friend’s assistance, and somehow Nie Huaisang ended up wading into the fray with a stick that he waved around like a war-fan, seeking inexplicably to defend Lan Xichen despite having previously displayed no fondness for him at all.

Nie Mingjue waded in as well, of course, trying to separate them and somehow ending up as everyone’s target when they realized that he was strong enough to pick them all up and toss them (lightly) into the piles of soft grass that covered the meadow, even Lan Xichen, and at that point they all threw themselves at him eagerly in order to be throw back.

Nie Mingjue wasn’t really thinking about that, though. He was thinking about what Lan Xichen had said.

He was thinking about – Mom.

Not Nie Mingjue’s own, naturally. She’d been gone since he was younger than Nie Huaisang was now. Perhaps it was because Nie Mingjue had his father and his aunts and his uncles, but he had never really felt the lack of her all that much, except maybe when he needed to learn some etiquette he didn’t know or when his peers spoke fondly of their own mothers. Nor was he thinking of Nie Huaisang’s mother, who had been very nice and whose untimely death had upset him immensely; he honestly hadn’t thought of either of them in years and years by the time he’d died.

But rather, he thought about Lan Xichen’s mother – Lan Wangji’s mother –

Nie Mingjue hadn’t learned the story of her fate until much, much later in life, when he was very nearly an adult. The Lan sect had always kept their secrets very well, and he might never have learned the details if it hadn’t been for Lan Xichen willingly divulging them. He’d told him the whole awful story of how his mother had not loved his father even though he loved her, how she had killed someone dear to him, how he had married her to save her and gone into seclusion to punish himself, how the Lan sect, ever concerned with its face, had covered it all up by forcing her into permanent seclusion…

The story had never really sat right with him. A punishment was one thing, entirely justifiable; murder was murder, and life imprisonment was a valid sentence, a valid commutation of the death sentence that she probably ought to have received. It was not Nie Mingjue’s place to question how the Lan sect selected and imposed punishments…

And yet, something about it had always felt rotten.

Maybe it was only that the Nie sect didn’t believe in solitary imprisonment. Or, well, really solitary anything, with even seclusion being done in a relatively well-traveled area so that those inside could, if they wished, open a one-sided window to hear the noise and know that their family was around them. Even their tombs, their saber halls, were joined together into what was practically a necropolis – even in death, the Nie sect would rather be together than apart.

If he recalled correctly, Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji’s mother would soon be taken away from them for good. She’d died when Lan Xichen was – ten? Ten to Lan Wangji’s six, yes, that sounded right.

A year from now, then. Less, maybe.

“– xiongzhang is da-ge, not er-ge!”

“No, you don’t understand, my da-ge is older – and bigger – so he’s da-ge, and your xiongzhang is er-ge, and that means you’d be san-ge, and Wei-gege is – wait, which one of you is older?”

“Huaisang, it doesn’t work that way, we’re not the same family –”

“What are you even talking about?” Nie Mingjue asked, abruptly coming out of his thoughts. They’d continued playing while he daydreamed, and now Lan Xichen was perched on his back like a monkey, with Nie Huaisang on one of Nie Mingjue’s shoulder while Wei Wuxian hung off the other arm’s bicep and Lan Wangi clung to his neck in front like a sloth on a branch, as Nie Mingjue demonstrated that he could, in fact, keep walking with all of them attached. Every single one of them seemed to think this was the absolute height of entertainment. “Who’s related to what now? Huaisang, can’t you just call Xichen Xichen-ge or something?”

“Oh, fine. Xichen-gege! Xichen-gege!”

“Nie-didi! Nie-didi!”

“Too loud,” Lan Wangji sniffed.

“Didn’t you hear Lan Zhan?!” Wei Wuxian promptly hollered at the top of his lungs. “You’re all being too loud!”

“I’m going to throw each and every one of you into a pond,” Nie Mingjue said. “One by one, if I have to.”

“Do you promise?” Lan Xichen giggled in his ear. “That sounds like fun!”

“Actually,” Nie Mingjue said, “I had a different thought. How about we play hide-and-seek?”

The advantage of future knowledge, Nie Mingjue thought, was that he knew exactly where Madame Lan’s home was and how to get there within the time period he’d suggested for the initial hiding.

The disadvantage was that he was so focused on achieving his goal that he forgot that what implications might be taken from a twelve-year-old boy breaking into a woman’s home, especially at a time when she wasn’t expecting visitors.

“I’m so sorry!” he all but shrieked, covering his eyes even though he had already turned his back. “Please put on clothing!”

“Oh, your face –” Madame Lan was guffawing. “You’re so red – boy, you don’t have to throw yourself out the window in penance or anything. I’m still wearing my inner robe, you can’t even see anything.”

“It’s still inappropriate!”

“Could be worse. I could’ve been –”

“Please don’t finish that sentence,” he begged. “I swear I’m not actually doing this because I have a crush on you, so please, please, please don’t give me any details about what you do in the privacy of your own home, okay? And stop offering me your under-things! I don’t want them!”

“I was only doing laundry,” she said, almost crying with laughter. “I didn’t mean to throw my underwear at your face, it was really just the closest thing to hand…who are you, anyway? Shouldn’t you be introducing yourself to me?”

“I’ll introduce myself when you’re dressed and not a moment earlier.”

“Oh, all right, have it your way. Give me a moment.” There was some rustling. “All right, turn around.”

He peeked and sighed with relief: Madame Lan was, in fact, appropriately dressed in a lovely white silk dress, adorned with the typical Lan sect cloud embroidery and everything. The style was a little freer and less conservative than he might have expected to see the mistress of a Great Sect wearing, but then again he supposed she’d never actually had to do the work associated with it. It was hard to host a society party from seclusion…

“Qinghe Nie’s Nie Mingjue greets He Kexin, Madame Lan,” he said, saluting properly. “I’m a visitor to your sect.”

“I hadn’t realized that we were anticipating visitors from another Great Sect,” she remarked. “Normally there’s a great deal more hustle and bustle involved with preparing to receive a visit.”

“It’s an informal one,” Nie Mingjue explained. “Somewhat, uh, abrupt. We didn’t send word in advance. You see, we recently accepted Cangse Sanren and her husband as guest disciples, and shortly thereafter the Jiang sect paid us an unexpected visit…”

Madame Lan had clearly heard about that disaster, if the way she put her hand over her mouth in a futile attempt to stifle her chortling was any indication.

“I think I see the issue, being as I happen to remember Cangse Sanren very well,” she said, her eyes dancing. “What a troublemaker. She even shaved off Qiren-xiaoshuzi’s beard one time! I’m guessing based on the way you turned into a boiled crayfish that she scared you out of your own home?”

Nie Mingjue opened his mouth to protest, except, well, that wasn’t entirely inaccurate…

“What a charming little egg you are! You’re such a rotten liar that you can’t even do it to save face.”

“Being dishonest isn’t saving face,” Nie Mingjue said, even though his face felt like it was burning and he was probably just as red as she said he was. “The truth is what the truth is, that’s all. You’re not wrong, that’s more or less what happened – I brought Huaisang and Wuxian here so that we could get away from all the yelling.”

“You picked a good place for that,” Madame Lan said, and there was a dull look in her eye all of a sudden. Nothing like the liveliness from a few moments before. “There’s nowhere like the Cloud Recesses for quiet.”

Nie Mingjue bit his lip, not quite sure how to say what he wanted to say. Right up until that moment, she hadn’t seemed at all sick, the way he’d thought she’d be – less than a year before she died, from what he remembered of Lan Xichen’s stories. He’d assumed she’d already be ill with the early stages whatever it was that had eventually taken her from her sons.

But now, he didn’t think she was sick, not really, only…bored.

Dreadfully, horribly bored. The sort of bored that drained your life away bit by bit.

Formal training in swordsmanship and scholarship began at six at the Cloud Recesses, Nie Mingjue abruptly remembered. There were plenty of lessons prior to that, of course, but at age six they would become formalized, the children shifting over from the realm of babies to proper young-adults-to-be. Once Lan Wangji turned six, Madame Lan would have had nothing to look forward to in life.

Nothing, except for her children starting to drift further and further away from her: nothing to do, no purpose, no friends…

Just boredom.

“The Unclean Realm has a communal prison,” he blurted out, and then smacked his hands into his face to hide his shame for being such an inconsiderate ass. Why had he thought he could do this by himself?

He wasn’t even sure what he’d originally come here to accomplish, other than to let Madame Lan know that she ought to see a doctor sooner rather than later in the hopes that they would be able to catch and stymie whatever disease it had been that had killed her, except now of course Nie Mingjue understood that it was no disease at all.

“…what?” she said blankly.

It was too late to retreat, so Nie Mingjue gathered up every bit of courage he’d ever had and barreled onwards.

“I just mean,” he said, tripping over his words, “if you’d like to be – a bit less quiet. Even if your sentence is life imprisonment, surely you don’t have to necessarily serve it here, right?”

Madame Lan stared at him. His shoulders started creeping up to his ears.

“Actually,” she said abruptly, “I was never sentenced.”

He gaped at her. “You – what?”

“Qiren-xiaoshuzi pushed for it, said it was only fair that I knew the exact contours of my punishment, but the sect elders refused,” she explained. “They didn’t want to lose face by having a trial at all, not even privately.”

“But – but if you haven’t been sentenced, you can’t be imprisoned!”

“Is that so?” she asked, looking amused.

“You can’t,” Nie Mingjue insisted, horrified. “The laws of war say that someone can be executed on the spot for committing a crime, but in peacetime they have to be sentenced first even if you catch them red-handed. What if your accuser recants his accusation, whether because he was wrong or because he decided not to press charges? If they recant, you can’t be tried; if you can’t be tried, even if everyone knows you’ve done wrong, you still must be released. No trial, no sentence, no imprisonment!”

“Tell that to the Lan sect,” she said dryly. “Not even my husband could do more than he did to forestall my punishment, and he’s sect leader. Nominally, anyway.”

This did seem to be a problem of the Lan sect. Of all sects, really – he had his own share of old men causing issues and sticking their noses into things – but he’d never had anywhere near the problem with the sect elders as Lan Xichen had had with his Lan sect.

“Why should I?” Nie Mingjue asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t see why we have to tell them anything at all.”

“Why are we doing this?” Nie Huaisang asked, tugging on Nie Mingjue’s sleeve.

“I already explained,” Nie Mingjue said, which he had. He’d also explained that he’d run in there by accident while looking for a place to hide, and he’d tried to look as much like a stupid twelve-year-old as possible when he said it. “About the lack of a trial –”

Nie Huaisang tugged again. “Not that. Why are we rescuing her?”

“Because she might die if we don’t,” Nie Mingjue said. “She’s very bored in there all by herself.”

“So?”

“What do you mean, so? It’d make Xichen and Wangji sad if she died.”

“So?”

“So they shouldn’t be sad if they don’t have to be! I don’t want them to be sad because they lost a parent…don’t you remember being sad about your mom having died, Huaisang?”

“No,” Nie Huaisang said. “I had da-ge.”

Nie Mingjue sighed. He’d keep this conversation in mind for later when Nie Huaisang was old enough to actually understand the concept of death, and then he’d use it to torment him forever.

“Wouldn’t you be sad if da-ge died, then?” he asked, and felt Nie Huaisang’s hands abruptly clutch tight on his arms. “There you go. That’s why we’re doing this.”

Nie Huaisang nodded, but he was still scowling a little in his adorable childhood way, and Nie Mingjue thought for a second that he heard him murmuring something about inviting unnecessary trouble under his voice, but…whatever, it wasn’t important.

What was more important was that Lan Xichen had arrived with what Nie Mingjue had asked him to fetch for him, his cheeks bright pink with excitement. “Nie-da-ge,” he hissed even though there wasn’t anyone in the area, thrusting the package into Nie Mingjue’s arms. “I got it!”

“Good,” Nie Mingjue said, then paused. “Er, you don’t mind, do you?”

“Mind? Mind what?”

“That I’m kind of, uh, well – I mean, I’m kidnapping your mother. You won’t be able to see her as often as you do now if this works…”

“She’ll be free,” Lan Wangji, trailing behind Lan Xichen as always, said solemnly. Then he stuck his thumb in his mouth, which somewhat ruined the effect.

Wei Wuxian, who’d rushed over to stand next to him as soon as he’d seen him, hugged him tightly. “You’ll come over all the time,” he assured him. “My mom will like your mom, and we’ll all go outside and play all the time. We’ll be really happy!”

Lan Wangji sniffed and buried his face into Wei Wuxian’s shoulder.

“It’s like Wangji said,” Lan Xichen said. His eyes were intense. “She’s not happy here, she’s not free here, and we only see her once a month anyway – less, in the future, once we’re both busy with lessons all the time. If she can be free somewhere else…you will let us come visit, right?”

“As often as you’re allowed,” Nie Mingjue promised, as it was about all he could do. “I’ll talk to my father about it…”

His father would probably have a fit.

Still, this was an injustice. Even if his father disagreed, it was something he had to do. He’d justify it with reference to their sect principles, and take any punishment duty his father chose to impose.

“It doesn’t matter, he’ll agree,” he said firmly. “You’ll definitely be able to visit.”

“Can I raise an objection?” Nie Zonghui said mournfully from where he was hovering by the side of the clearing. “Possibly two – no, three objections.”

Nie Mingjue looked at him and tilted his head to the side in silent question.

“One, your father said not to get into trouble, if you’ll trouble yourself to remember back that far,” he said, raising a finger. “Two, how exactly do you plan to break the array keeping Madame Lan imprisoned? And three, even if you do break it, how do you plan to get her out?”

The first was irrelevant. The other two…

“We’re going to walk out the front gate,” Nie Mingjue said, and opened up the package Lan Xichen had gotten him – as he’d suspected, there had been spare robes for Qinghe Nie disciples left behind from the previous discussion conference, and sure enough the Lan sect had kept hold of them as a courtesy to the owners. “The Lan sect has never affirmatively stated that Madame Lan wasn’t allowed to leave; they just said she was too sickly to do so. Therefore, if we leave with a Nie sect disciple who is clearly capable of walking out, there’s nothing they can do to stop us without admitting that it’s her and that she’s a prisoner – which they won’t do, because then they’d lose face.”

“That barely counts as a plan,” Nie Zonghui said, and for some reason Nie Huaisang nodded in agreement. “But sadly I think it might actually work.”

Nie Huaisang looked betrayed.

“It will work,” Lan Xichen said. “Especially if you insist that she’s one of yours. They won’t be able to call you out without calling you a liar, and they wouldn’t want to do that. Not publicly, not about this.”

“Won’t there be a problem that she’s a girl wearing boy’s clothing?” Wei Wuxian asked, patting Lan Wangji’s head.

“No, that’s not a problem in Qinghe,” Nie Huaisang told him. “You’re new, so you’re not used to it, but it really isn’t. I mean, she could be misaligned or something, it’s not our business.”

“And we won’t be lying about her being one of ours,” Nie Mingjue said. “Since I’ve offered her sanctuary in our sect, it’s even technically true.”

Nie Zonghui sighed. “And if they ask Lan-gongzi and Lan-er-gongzi if she’s their mother?”

“Wangji won’t say anything,” Lan Xichen said at once. “And I’ll – I’ll lie if I have to.”

He was truly unbearably cute at this age.

Nie Zonghui appeared to be suffering from a similar problem, reaching over and patting him lightly on the head in helpless amusement. “Okay, okay. Let’s hope they don’t ask,” he said. “But – Nie-gongzi, we still have the second problem. How do you intend to get Madame Lan out of the imprisonment array?”

Nie Mingjue patted his cousin – who he knew from his future experience was one of the finest array breakers in their sect, a charming side-effect courtesy of his dual-wielded saber cultivation style – on the shoulder. “I intend to delegate.”

Nie Zonghui blinked, then glared. “I walked myself into that one, didn’t I?”

“You did,” Nie Mingjue said peaceably. “Can you break it? I can use Baxia, if it’ll help.”

“Hmph. Yes, it would help a great deal, but will she agree to consume an array for you? That’s fairly high-grade work, and talent or no talent, you’re still fairly new to mastering the saber.”

Nie Mingjue put his hand on Baxia’s blade, which felt warm and pleased. Practically purring. At some point he would need to investigate why she was so happy all the time – she’d never been this compliant in his first life, and he’d expected her to be more vicious, not less. “Yes, she’ll be happy to help.”

“Fine. Let’s go.” Nie Zonghui paused briefly. “Also, if your father asks, you held Baxia to my throat and made me do it. It was definitely not me being curious about whether or not I could break such a complicated array.”

“Of course it wasn’t,” Nie Mingjue said understandingly, and drew Baxia. “All right. Let’s go get ourselves banned from the Cloud Recesses.”

#mdzs #nie mingjue #nie huaisang #lan xichen #wei wuxian #lan wangji #nie zonghui #madame lan #my fic #my fics #time travel nie bros

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heyitsyn · 4 years

Text

Keeping Up With Seijoh Ep. 5

a/n: ong this is going to be a bit of a crack episode w a tiny dash of flirty manager

for more seijoh content, check this masterlist out!

anon:

-Watch the boys be all dramatic when yn misses a few days of school and suddenly show up with a broken arm😭✊🏻😔

- Dunno if this is a dream or not but i think you mentioned that yn is clumsy. Just imagine her carrying those cute band aids around for when she gets hurt. But what if she uses them on the boys when they get hurt

tumblr moot:

- She is looking down at the boy who is checking her scrap on her knee, when she smiles all cutely and shit "I fell for you" And cue the boy having a heart attack because she is way to cute

im totally not running out of seijoh gifs or anything

anyways!!

lets start!!

okay as mentioned before and as read above,,

you are quite clumsy

like there is a normal level of clumsy

but you are just on another level

like in manager part 2, your mom ltr was not shocked when you said you fell up the stairs like ‘oh okay. the weathers nice today’

lmao what

and youre also the type to not even know you got hurt like youd just be scratching your arm and youd find a bruise

‘how did that get there?’

so it was common to find you with band-aids on you and bruises all over

like you entered the gym for practice and you were just doing your normal manager tingz when our meme bois saw you and zoomed towards you

‘y/n-chan!!! we missed you!!!!

makki screeched which scared you so you dropped the crate of bottles onto your feet

‘owie’

you mumbled, the pain settling in at an overwhelmingly quick pace so there were tiny tears in your eyes

the duo gasped and quickly kicked the crate to the side like they were angry at it for hurting you

uwu omg thats so cute

or the one time you were wiping the sweat from kyo’s forehead

he had a small soft smile that could only be seen by you as you got rid of the sweat

but that smile turned into a frown when he got a glimpse at the discoloration on certain parts of your arms

‘y/n’

he whispered

you blinked up and he gently grabbed your arm, fingertips ghosting over the bruises

‘how could you do this to your beautiful skin’

he mumbles and you shrugged

‘hmm,,, i didnt even know they were there’

kyo shook his head with an amused chuckle and iwa, who was drinking water at the side, noticed you two

then he noticed more at your other arm and baby boi hurriedly ran over to you

next thing you know, you got best bois fussing over you always hurting yourself and kyo gently headbutts you to tell you off while iwa flicks your nose

‘honestly, we cant trust you by yourself’

you just giggled at them which caused them to stumble and fluster

THESE BOYS ARE SO SOFT LIKE PLEASE

its quite normal for you to look like you just fell down the stairs and be so surprised whenever the boys point it out

like youd have this confused pout and tilt your head ‘hm? hello. how did you get here’

its kinda cute

and ofc you would naturally have your ointments for bruises or a first aid kit at all times bc you never really know when it happens and you need to treat it quickly

the boys always count on you for medical tape when their fingers bleed or whenever watari gets bruises all over his legs bc of too many flying dives

the bench was a common place for you to treat the others and our libero babie was sitting there at one practice

you were kneeled on the floor and gently applying ointment on the growing colors on his skin

‘hmm,,, wata-san, be careful next time, okay? your skin is really soft and pretty. its a shame to ruin it’

he wanted to scoff at the irony and the hypocritical comment but your worried and concerned eyes made him softly smile and nod

‘mhm. i will’

even though it was uneeded on reddened places, you would dig in your bag and fish out a gudetama bandaid on it

it was like a doctor’s signature for you and it makes the boys ltr fall in love with you all over again

ororororor that one time where kindaichi accidentally got a papercut during your study sessions and he was tearing up slightly at the pain

LMAO YALL REALLY OUT HERE TOUGHING OUT PAPERCUTS LIKE ITS NOTHING BUT I ACT LIKE I GOT STABBED 10 TIMES

you grinned at him to show that it was going to be okay and he let you sit on his lap so you could treat it

he still had a pout and you were giving him forehead kisses to calm him down

‘see? its going to be okay. nurse y/n-chan is the best out there and she’ll take care of you!’

he laughed slightly and you victoriously smiled

once it was all wrapped up, you placed a kiss on it

‘ya gotta kiss it to make it better’

not saying im doing a kindaichi route or anything but he may or may not tackled you with kisses with that comment

but sometimes, they would have to be the one to put that bandaid on you

like one day, you were walking down the stairs to go to the changing rooms for practice and humming softly when you caught sight of the tall volleyball player mattsun at the bottom of the stairs

he was just passing by and you noticed him, waving your hand and shouting his name

‘mattsun-san!’

you greeted and he turned and he smiled brightly at you

you excitedly increased your pace going down the stairs, not noticing that you stepped on the edge of the step and caused your foot to slip

unfortunately, mattsun was too far away for him to catch you so you tripped and scraped your knee

he flashnyoomed over to you and kneeled in front of you to examine it

ofc it hurt like hell but you put up a brave front

‘its okay, mattsun-san’

his adorable eyebrows scrunched in concern and he quickly shook his head and gently picked you up to sit 2 steps up

you watched silently as he grabbed ahold of the familiar blue first aid kit from your bag and he opened it to take out alcohol and other treatment things

his fingers worked to open the bottle and pour a little bit of alcohol before he gently reached out to grab your leg

but before that, our babie mattsun is a gentleman and looked up for a permission to help you

‘its okay, mattsun-san’

you giggled and you booped his nose

he was slowly cleaning the wound and you could still tell he was worried with how his brows were still furrowed

‘mattsun-san’

you called out and he looked up

you smiled cutely and looked down, flustered, then met his eyes again

‘i fell for you’

mattsun.exe stopped working

like deadass he blanked for a second then his brain processed what you said and when he did, he dropped the cotton ball and his face blew up red

this babie grimaced, eyes shutting tightly and head leaning on your thigh

you giggled at him and ran your hands through his hair

‘i swear, y/n, i swear’

he kept mumbling and his heartbeat quickened to the point he felt faint and he felt light-headed

you were just too cute

too damn cute for his heart

too damn cute for this world

just too cute

and thats not good

mattsun quickly regained his senses and hurriedly placed the ointment and the bandaid on to finish the job

you reached out with your hands for a hug and mattsun gladly leaned in and you clung to him like a koala which made him hold you tightly against his chest

‘hmm~~~~ thank you, mattsun-san’

you appreciated and gave him a kiss on his cheek in gratitude which made him hide his face in your neck

‘im going to get a heart attack, y/n. take responsibility’

he mumbled, nipping your neck

you chuckled and played with the hair on his neck

‘hm~ okay~ i take responsibility~’

I SWEAR MY MATTSUN SIMP IS NOW PEAKING THROUGH

that was only one of the accidents the seijoh boys went through with you and i swear those boys have superior intelligence in medical care just because you get hurt so much

until that one faithful day

you werent there

you werent at school or at practice

ofc you texted the coaches and the team that you werent going to be at school for a while and they spammed you asking what happened or if you were okay

but you didnt want to worry them so you just said that you were okay and it was just something that happened

ONG OIKAWA ACTUALLY CAME TO YOUR HOUSE BUT YOU TOLD YOUR PARENTS AND NATSU TO TELL HIM TO GO AWAY BC IF HE FINDS OUT WHAT HAPPENED, THE CHILE WILL STORM INTO YOUR ROOM AND LECTURE YOU

HE ONLY WENT AWAY WHEN YOUR DAD CAME OUT WITH A BROOM AND THREATENED TO HIT HIM IF HE CONTINUES TO BOTHER YOU

UKAI VIBES HONESTLY

IS UKAI YOUR FATHER?

CONSPIRACY THEORY?

BUZZFEED UNSOLVED COME SOLVE THIS

then you finally appeared

dear god

kunimi saw you enter the classroom and he almost shot up to saturn when he saw your cast

‘y/n!’

he shouted and kindaichi heard it from his classroom beside yours and he also usain bolted towards your classroom to your desk

the boi texted the team you were here and they all raced to your classroom

EVERYONE WAS HAVING A FIELD DAY WITH THE APPEARANCE OF THE BEAUTIFUL VOLLEYBALL TEAM LIKE THE BOYS + YOU?! GODSEND

oikawa screeched at the sight of your arm and everyone was firing questions at you but you couldnt focus on one so you just sat there sheepishly smiling

‘Y/N! WHAT DID-’

‘I SWEAR ITS LIKE WE HAVE TO-’

‘MY HEART ALMOST DIED!! I THOUGHT YOU DIED-’

thank god your professor entered the shooed them out with a large textbook but your teacher smiled at you

‘l/n, good to have you back’

at lunch, dear god there was a riot

kunimi strong man kunimi hoisted you in his arms and walked over to the hidden team stairwell where everyone was waiting

they all had narrowed eyes and crossed arms, with iwakyo tapping their foot

you did the 🥺👉👈 and their eyes softened at that sight alone

‘you see,,,, i had a,,, concert,,, in the shower,,, and slipped’

they blinked, confusion swirling over everyone’s head

‘excuse me? you said you slipped in the bath?’

‘for a concert?’

‘you sing?’

the team facepalmed at the reason you came in with a broken arm and you pouted at them

‘sorry, captain, everyone. i didnt mean to’

you mumbled but the others couldnt blame you so they pulled you to a group hug

‘i swear, y/n-chan, you will get yourself killed one day’

‘sorry’

you apologized again but oikawa flicked your nose

‘no dont apologize. we’ll just have to be there for you constantly to look out for you’

and he stuck to that word

like oikawa came over to your house early in the morning to pick you up from school and your dad thought it was just him bothering again

so he sighed, placed his newspaper down, took a sip of tea, then stood up to go to the closet for his broom

this mans took a deep breath before opening his door and shouting and waving his broom around maniacally

‘SHUT UP!!! YOURE DISTURBING THE NEIGHBORS!! I WILL BEAT YOUR LOUD CRUSTY DUSTY-’

that woke up everyone in the house and you bolted down the stairs, terrified yet chuckling at the sight

then something happened for everyone in the neighborhood-or Japan- to wake up

yanno the drill ladies and gents

oikawa screamed

a/n: sorry i disappeared for a HOT SEC but im back!! and we finally going back to the groove!!! and uwu thanks for sticking by and waiting for another update and the next one might be my first not-seijoh work in a LONG WHILE so look forward to that!!!

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sunshineandbnha · 4 years

Text

Unexpected - Denki x reader (Valentine’s Day)

Word count: 3,978

Warnings: none, aside from a case of “Did not edit, just finished this this morning”

A/n: HOW DID THIS END UP SO LONG?? I swear, I started it with the idea and intention that it would be 1.4k or 1.9k words. How did I accidentally write two thousand more words? Anyway, I hope this is a good valentine fic for Denki boy. I thought of it due to a prompt on tumblr. If I can later remember who it was who made it, I will edit this and have a link to that post.

Edit: Found it. The prompt was made by @love-me-a-good-prompt

When was it you started to look at him differently?

"Hey!"

You looked over your shoulder to find Kaminari making his way past several students in the cafeteria to get to you. You turned your body to face him. Though, you felt awkward about still holding your lunchtray, as if it was a barrier between you and him.

"Do you got a date for tomorrow?" he asked with a grin.

Your heart gave a weep at the reminder of Valentine's day. As if the hearts and commercials all over the place weren't enough. "What do you think?"

"Just checking." He dashed to get his lunch tray he had set down, and sped walked to your side as you picked a table to sit at.

Kaminari had been your friend for several months. One day you had simply overheard him talking about a manga, the same one you had read, and you jumped into the conversation. After that, the both of you became easy friends, and frequently had lunch at the same table.

"Why would you even ask?” You slid into a seat at the table. “You know there's no one I'm really interested in."

"Except for fictional characters," he added while getting into his own chair across from you.

"Yeah. Unfortunately they aren't available for me to ask out."

He leaned back in his seat. “We’re really missing out on these things. I thought by the time I was in high school training to be a cool hero, I would have tons of girls who like me by now.”

“And I, for some reason, thought I would magically manifest a special someone. But that’s clearly not happening anytime soon.” You stared down while absent mindedly stirring your food.

He suddenly sat straight and looked at you with a twinkle in his eyes. The kind that told you he had an idea. "What if we did all of that classy Valentine's day stuff together?"

"I think you meant cliche."

"Banana, ba- ... oh wait, that's not how the saying goes."

You let out a large laugh and nearly choked on your food.

"Something with tomatoes or potatoes," he continued with a wave of his hand as if throwing away the topic. "Well, what do you think? You wanna do it?"

"You just want the chocolate, don't you?"

"No! I would never!" He waved his arms around. "... Well, that too."

"I knew it!" You lifted your fork/chopstick of food into air in triumph. "Just make sure you get my favorite chocolate once White Day rolls around."

"Sure thing!" He gave a thumbs up. "I'm sure I can get enough money by then!"

"You've been using all of it on manga and snacks again, haven't you?"

"What else would I use it on?"

"Okay. Just don't use the money for my chocolate on manga."

"If I did, It would be a great manga and be worth a lot more than some chocolate. Actually, that should be a thing. Instead of getting girls chocolate, get them manga! And we should get manga too. ... So, are we doing it?" he asked when he paused long enough to think.

"I don't know,” you shrugged while taking another bite.

He slammed his hand on the table. "But you said it like you did! I just agreed to get you chocolate next month!"

"I was saying if I agreed. If I agreed then you would have to get me chocolate.” You internally laughed at his response.

Kaminari slumped in his chair. "Okay, but my point is, how long have we been single? And it doesn't look like it's going to change anytime soon, so I was thinking why not we experience some of it while we're still in high school?"

"Hmmm," you tapped your finger against your lip. "Well, you have a point. And I guess I got nothing better to do tomorrow."

“So it’s a yes?” his eyes lit up.

“I guess so.”

“Yes!” He jumped up and some heads turned towards him. “I got a—!”

You hastily pulled him back down and got a hold of his ear. He yelped in pain before you shushed him. The attention he had gained was beginning to die down after doing that, much to your relief. You released a small puff of air, grateful that you didn’t feel like you were in a spotlight anymore.

“Kaminari,” you whispered into his ear, an edge present in your voice, “Don’t go announcing it to the world, especially if it’s not an actual date. Do not ruin it for me.”

You let go, and he got out of the awkward position of being pulled half way onto the table. Thankfully, he hadn’t landed in his food when you pulled him down. He settled back in his chair and rubbed his ear.

“Okay! You can count on me!”

Maybe it was a bad idea to suddenly agree when that meant you had to make chocolate for him that night. You already had some chocolate you bought from the store for family and friends. One of those giri chocos was originally going to be his, but now you would have to actually make him honmei choco if you were going to have the whole Valentine's Day experience. You considered skipping on that for a brief second, but you had already agreed to do it. Plus, you weren't sure if you would ever get to do this during high school at this rate. And you wanted to at least have done it once.

You'd have to run to the store to get better quality chocolate, a cute wrap for it, and a heart shaped mold. In order to save time, you went directly to the nearest store after school. It would save time, which you didn't have much of it. You didn't know how long it would take to make them, and you wanted some extra time in case you make a mistake and had to do something over again.

It was more crowded than you thought. You also didn't realize how many stares you would get just for being in your U.A. uniform. Thankfully, everything you needed was there and you made your way to the counter to pay. As you were weaving your way through the people, you thought you saw another student. You did a double take. Uniform. Pink skin. Ashido.

You tried to duck and hide, but it was too late.

"Oh, hey!" She waved you down and ran to you. A bag of purchased goods was hanging from her arm. "What are you doing here? Are you getting last minute giri choco too!"

“I, uh.”

“Hey, isn't that stuff to make chocolate? Wait a second… OMG! Who’s the lucky person!”

You nervously held the items close to you. This was why you didn't want her seeing you. "No one, really. I'm just... making it for the experience." You put a smile onto your face and did your best to make the last half of the sentence sound cheery.

It wasn't technically a lie. You just hoped she bought it. Because if she kept prying and learned it was for Kaminari, you would never hear the end of it.

"Okay. Can I have some when you're done?" She joked and bumped your arm with her elbow.

"Only if I didn't eat it all first." You internally high fived yourself for the quick reply.

"Okay. Well, see you at U.A." She waved before dashing out the door.

"Bye!" You watched her go. When she was out of view, you exhaled a breath you didn't know you were holding.

You stood nervously in the park. You wore a Valentine Day themed outfit you had put together, with the help of some ideas from the internet. It was 5:45 pm, the time you agreed on meeting. You had honestly expected him to be slightly late. Though it did nothing to make your feel less jittery.

There were quite a few people who also had the same idea of going to the park. Some friends playing Frisbee. A family walking by. And some couples. You scanned the area for him, multiple times, but still couldn't see him.

Why were you even so worried? This was your friend. It’s not like it was an actual date with someone you liked. If he forgot or something, you could just chew him out later. Then that 'what if' situation made you sick to your stomach and you forced yourself to stop thinking about it.

"Hey!"

You head turned up within a split second and you saw him. He wore a dark blue button up shirt. This plus his smile and hair... somehow made him look nice. A smile spread on your face, yet your nerves didn't completely calm down just yet.

"Hey!" You greeted back.

"You look nice," he commented.

"You too." You nodded. "So, what were you planning on doing first?"

"I thought we'd walk around here first, then go to this one restaurant. And after that we can wander around shops." he shrugged.

"Okay, sounds nice." You began walking side by side with him.

Your brain tried to sabotage the moment by beginning to make you feel awkward. You did your best to push it away. But were you supposed to be walking in silence? Or talking?

"You wanna hold hands?" He offered.

"Hmm," you joking held your finger to your lip in deep thought. "I think no."

"Oh, come on!" He acted upset, but there was a big grin on his face.

You laughed and he joined in. A few more jokes were thrown back and forth as you passed trees and other people. Though within a seemingly short amount of time, the conversation hit dead end. You pulled on your sleeve and look in any direction but him.

"Okay, this is getting boring,” he said. “Can we go to the restaurant now?”

"Lucky for you, I think we're almost at the end of the park, and I'm hungry."

“Yes!” he cheered. “They always make walking through the park look more fun in the movies.”

“Yeah,” you agreed with a laugh.

Kaminari led you to the place he picked out. Well, more like he tried to go there, then got lost and had to give up on relying on his memory. He made the brilliant move of pulling out his phone, setting the location on his map app, and he following it. But you both realized that he had gotten the point where you going mixed up with your location. This resulted in having to backtrack and ignoring your growling stomach as it took even longer to get there.

Finally, you found it. You entered through door with him. Inside were tables placed around a large circle. The conveyor belt had several plates of food with different types of sushi and other dishes. The chiefs in the middle of the circle conveyor worked hard to keep the food coming. Almost every table was filled.

“Aw, man. We should have gotten here earlier,” Kaminari grabbed your hand. “C’mon.”

You both ran until you spotted a free table and slide in. It took a second to catch your breath after the sudden sprint. Sitting in the chair, you looked around more closely. It was a nice place. There were people chattering, some clanking of plates, and mouth watering food slowly passing by you. You reached up to begin to grab one, but then you stopped yourself.

"Wait, am I paying for myself or where you...?"

"You can have whatever you want. My treat," he replied with a ish eating grin. Probably meant that he thought what he just said was very cool.

You laughed to yourself and picked one and he did the same. It was good. You were pleasantly surprised, though you weren't sure why. Maybe it was because he had only learned of the restaurant while looking up ones online to take you to. And it was only yesterday that you agreed. Then again, you had made honmei choco the other night...

You suddenly remembered something and nearly choked on your sushi roll.

"You okay?" Kaminari said, unfortunately dismissing any hope you had that he didn't notice.

"No, I'm good. I just need to make a phone call. One second." You excused yourself and walked outside while pulling out your phone.

It was an uncomfortable change to suddenly be greeted by the chilly February air. Was it really that cold when you were with Kaminari? You dialed your mom's number and resisted the urge to pace.

As soon as you heard the other end being picked up, you began. "Mom, I need you to get something for me. If you look in the kitchen, somewhere on the counter is where I left a bag of chocolate for Valentine's day. Can you bring that to me?" You had been so busy trying to get ready and be on time, that you had accidentally left the honmei choco you made.

"Uhh, okay. But where are you? It’ll be awfully hard to give it to you if I don’t know where you are."

"In a little bit I should be..." you tried to think of a good point to meet up, "near Takoba Municipal Beach Park. Probably close to that one gazebo. I'll text you that so you don't forget after I hang up."

"Okay. I hope you appreciate this. I really don't feel like going all the way out there to give you something you forgot."

"If I could go back and un-forget it, I would. Thank you. Bye."

With that, the call ended. You took a deep breath to calm your heart, which seemed to think forgetting chocolate was a catastrophic event, and went back inside.

When you caught sight of Kaminari again he was dunking a chunk of seaweed and fish into soy sauce, before shoving it into his already full mouth. He stopped and paused upon seeing you. He chewed and swallowed as quickly as he could and finished by the time you sat back down.

"So, what was that about?" he started it off as a joke, but his voice seemed shaky for whatever reason.

"I just forgot something and asked Mom to go get it for me." Technically wasn't a lie.

"Oh, okay." He began eating more. He started counting the plates and you could see his face pale a tad.

"Is everything alright for you?"

"Huh? I mean, yeah, everything's great." He smiled at you.

You shrugged and focused your gaze on the conveyor belt. A particularly delicious looking morsel. It was clearly more expensive, with a nice layer of tuna in it. You reached out your hand, considering getting it when you saw Kaminari flinch at your action.

You turned to him. "Do I need to pay for my own meal?"

"No, no," he tried to retain the coolness he built up, "I can pay."

You sighed. "No, you are not going broke because of expensive fish."

"But, that's not-"

"What? It's not cool? Denki- oops.” You realized you accidentally used his given name.

His face turned the slightest bit pink, though you hardly even noticed in your own embarrassment. “That’s fine. You can call me Denki. We’ve known each other long enough.”

“Thanks,” you nodded and continued, “Denki, you are my friend," why did the word 'friend' leave a different taste this time 'round? "and I don't want you doing something stupid because you think it makes you look cool."

He struggled to make a comeback and ended up blurting out, "Doing something stupid that makes me look cool defines me."

"Look, let's split the bill between us, that way you pay for some of mine, but you don't spend up the money for the chocolate you promised me."

"Wait, you didn't care about me, you just wanted to make sure you still got chocolate." He faked an offended expression.

You exhaled a laugh. "Yeah, sure. Whatever makes you feel better. As long as you agree."

"Fine."

"But don't purposefully buy more just because I'm offering to pay half."

"Can't make any promises~"

"You little-"

Eventually, you became full enough, or rather reached the maximum to what you were willing to pay. Then you left. You blinked when you stepped out. You hadn’t expected it to become this dark. Kaminari began walking off, probably to some store or the mall, but you grabbed his arm to stop him.

"Is it alright if we stop by the beach?"

His eyes lit up, like the stars in the sky. "Great idea! That'd be much more romantic."

You expected to roll your eyes, but what you found was your face growing warm and your mouth being lost for words. Thankfully, he didn't notice and just started running for the beach, pulling you along. Buildings loomed over you in the dark, until they finally cleared and the beach came into view. The sea seemed to become the night sky. It gently washed over the sand in a rhymic pattern. The sound of it filled your ears and your senses listened. A sense of calmness washed over you.

You both walked up to the gate that separated the beach from the road. Kaminari leaned against the metal gate, resting on his arms. The two of you stared at the view in a comfortable silence.

“Wow, this is nice,” he commented.

“Yeah.” There was a weird feeling, somewhat reminiscent to a flutter or squeeze, in your chest. Something that made the moment seem more magical. You could almost feel this feeling rising and beginning to climb up your throat.

More silence, then a movement caught your attention out the corner of your eye. Your mom was waving to you and held a small bag that slightly reflected in the small amount of light there was.

“One second, I need to go get something,” you let him know and ran to your mom. “Thank you so much.”

“Just don’t make this a habit,” she handed it to you. Then she glanced to where Kaminari was and squinted. “Is that your date? Is that why you were making chocolate?”

“No,” your voice came out more unsure for some reason, “well, I… was just making that for myself. This is just giri choco.”

“Okay.” She shrugged. “Don’t stay out much longer.”

“I won’t.” You quickly ran back. “Hey,” you greeted him.

“Hey. What was that about?”

“Noting important,” you shrugged and leaned on the gate. “Oh, and here.” You held the bag out to him, trying to act cool and nonchalant, but you knew you had a big smirk on your face.

He gasped and snatched it out of your hold. He wrestled with the bag, trying to get it open. Once he succeeded, he looked inside. A big smile spread across his face and he pulled it out. He held a large chocolate heart on a stick, almost like a lollipop. You thought that would be fun to make. Of course, now that he held it, you could see all the tiny imperfections. Like where a small air bubble had been, or how some chocolate had gotten on the stick. But Kaminari didn’t seem to care at all. He stared at it in awe. Like he had just been given something he wanted for years.

“Wow! Wait, did your mom just give this to you? Did you forget?” he looked over to you.

“What, no, I would never…” you laughed nervously. “But I did make it. You better like it, or else,” you joked.

“I’m sure I will! Wow. You made this?”

“Yep. Last night.”

“Thank you!” He took a bite out of it and began happily chewing.

You smiled. Your eyes locked onto the gazebo on the beach. It looked really nice. The thought of you being in it made you want to go even more. Currently there was a couple there, but then they walked out and started going down the beach. Your eyes lit up.

You looked to Kaminari, tugged on his sleeve, and pointed to the now empty location.

He grinned. “I think I know what you’re thinking and I think we should do it too.”

With a couple of small laughs you both hurried down to the beach was fast as you could. The sand made you slow your pace into a walk, but you didn’t mind. The sea air on you felt refreshing, chilling your skin. The moon was beautiful and the water reflected slivers of the moonlight that danced.

"It looks really nice." You smiled.

"Yeah... wanna hold hands?" He offered his free hand to you.

To your surprise, this actually sounded nice. And to your greater surprise, you accepted. Your hand slipped in his perfectly. Almost like it found its home. The second you skin touched, it was like electricity ran through you and jump started your heart. You were about to ask if he was using his quirk, but quickly realized that it didn't feel exactly like electricity. But the strange feeling in your heart continued. You couldn't tell if it felt nice or if you wanted it to go away.

Your feet kept sinking in the sand until you reached the pier and had to get used to walking on concrete again. You made your way to the roof on the end of the pier, hand in hand. You stood by the edge. Staring at the water.

Kaminari took the last bite. “That was delicious.”

“Thanks.”

“So…” he looked around. He put the stick back into the bag and placed it in his pocket. “Wanna dance?”

Instead of your usual joking reply, you felt flustered, but shyly accepted. He pulled out his phone and started some music up. You put your hand in his and the other on his shoulder. He held you by the waist. You tried to regulate your breathing and calm down. The two of you began spinning in time with the music. He twirled you around. You even did that one move you would see in movies. When you’d spin out, like a door opening, while still holding his hand. The he’d pull you back to him. It all felt simple, and fun.

Right as the fourth song was ending, you had an overwhelming urge to ask him something. “Umm,” then you stopped yourself when you realized exactly what it was you actually wanted to ask. But why did it feel like it was rising out of your throat, desperately wanting to be said.

“Yeah?” he looked at you. His yellow eyes made you feel like melting, an effect they never had up until that point.

“I… it was nothing.”

“Really?”

“No.” You cursed yourself for automatically saying the truth.

“Then what is it?” He looked at you more intently.

Your mind was doing somersaults trying to figure out what to do or say. “Date, please,” you blurted out.

“Huh?”

“Well, um.” You really wished you had kept your mouth shut. You stared down and said in the most quiet voice possible, “I think maybe I kinda like you and maybe, kinda, want to go on a real date with you. Maybe? If you’d be fine with that, maybe.”

“Wait,” he stepped back as if in surprise. “You. Want to date… me?”

Your face was burning to the point you wanted to stick into the water like an ostrich. “Yes?”

He threw his arms in the air and jumped around. “Yes! I got an actual date! I’m finally dating someone! They said I couldn’t do it!”

“You don’t need to announce it to the whole world.” You laughed.

“Well, you are m—”

“I swear, if you say finish with ‘my world’ I will knock you over the head.”

He let out a big laugh. “Why? You don’t want to be my world?”

His laughter was contagious. “No, it’s cheesy, and this literally just happened a minute ago.”

You both started to walk back, and hardly even noticed when your hands slipped perfectly into one another.

#denki x reader #kaminari x reader #kaminari denki x reader #denki kaminari x reader #Valentine's day #bnha denki #mha denki #bnha kaminari #mha kaminari #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia

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goldenchan-fx2thepeacock · 3 years

Text

Quick AU where Danny stays in town during Girls Night Out

Yeah, random thoughts spring into brain. Danny is trans. I think that's enough background info. Also, Tumblr got a new post editor, so I'm betaing it right now.

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Danny was supposed to go fishing with his dad. But something came up. AKA, Vlad wanted him to go visit him without Danny. So Danny was in Amity Park when he was supposed to be having dad bonding time. What could he say? His dad got that dumb book and everything. It was gonna be epic. Except stupid Vlad had to go and ruin everything. Whatever. Dad said they would go next weekend.

The first big issue was when Tucker disappeared. And he didn't. Might've been a dumb ghost thing. So he and Sam went to find stuff out. Except all the men in town were gone. It was glaring. "I-I'm sure it's nothing Danny!" Sam said nervously. "Yeah. It's gotta have been a stupid mistake. Maybe I'm immune cause I'm half ghost," Except there weren't any male ghosts either. "Yeah, that's gotta be it!" That when they heard Ember. "OH YEAH! NO MORE PESKY GUYS! IT'S A GIRL'S NIGHT OUT!" "Yes. You know, I'm surprised that worked. I was afraid it might've been a ghost only thing," Spectra drawled. "Of course it worked. The superior gender always prevails," Kitty replied. "And that's obviously female," Every vein in his body was pounding. "I think you might've confused sex for gender ladies," Sam said patiently. "We're not having sex!" Ember laughed. "You do realize how invalidating this can feel for trans people?!" Sam shrieked back. "If they're still here, that means it's a she," Spectra grinned. That was the last straw. He ran. As fast as he could. And for a half ghost that was fast. Once he got home, he slammed the door.

Sam saw Danny run off and knew how this was looking for him. "Isn't this rich? The ghost boy is really a girl," Kitty grinned. "I'm surprised I didn't notice sooner," Spectra laughed. Ember stayed oddly quiet for someone who was normally boisterously loud.

Danny curled in on himself. Herself. NO! Don't second guess yourself. It change the fact that it hurt. "All the men in town are gone!" He heard Jazz yell. "I realize that Jazz. Thank goodness your father is out of town," Mom sighed. "Wait, but Danny isn't! I really hope..." She was standing in his doorway. "FUCKING GHOSTS!" Jazz didn't swear. She never swore. "What is it Jazz? Oh. Danny, I'm so sorry," Mom pulled him into a hug. "I'll be fine," He grumbled. "Do you know which ghosts?" Jazz decided to change the conversation. "Spectra, Kitty and Ember," "Great. Spectra is going to use this horribly," Jazz grumbled quiet enough that only Danny could hear. "Listen, we have to get the guys back first," "Wait, if you're, that means any trans women in Amity are stuck there," Mom said. "Can we not talk about that? I'm seriously not in the mood," "At least pesky Phantom won't be here to get in the way," Jazz and Danny exchanged a look. Sam came bursting in. "Danny! Okay, I am going to make them even deader than before," Sam cracked her knuckles. "I'm fine Sam. Let's just find a way to fix this," "I have an idea!" Jazz said. "No," Danny, Sam and Mom said in unison. "Oh come on. Don't be like that. Not all my plans are bad," Jazz protested. "Speaking from experience (of being trapped in a thermos way too much for one night), that is completely untrue," "What was that about thermoses Danny?" Mom said. "Jazz put soup in my Fenton Thermos!" "I couldn't tell them apart! We really need to label things," "Like with a massive sticker that say Fenton?" "All our stuff has those!" "Fair enough," Danny conceded. It was the plan if anyone caught them talking about getting trapped in thermoses. It made sense because it actually happened. "Well, since Jazz's plan is out, I opt that we figure out how this whole thing happened," Mom said. "It's a combo between Kitty and Ember. Kitty has this thing that makes men disappear into another dimension. And Ember must've used her guitar to make it cover all of Amity. If we don't get them out in twelve hours, they'll be stuck there forever," "And I will have to resign to a life of raging dysphoria," "You were gonna have that anyways," "Times ten. This won't help anyways, but it won't be all bad," "Let's stop talking about you being trans. Danny, you're staying here," Jazz winked. He knew what that meant. They would get all the men back and Danny would keep the ghosts at bay. "Okay. So, from what they were blabbing, all we have to do is get them to do it again," Sam said. Once they had a plan in place, all they had to do was implement it. They left and Danny quickly transformed. Praying that Spectra wouldn't find a way to use this against him, he sped off. "Hey! Poo faces! I'm not gone, and it semi pisses me off!" He screamed. "Oh now sweety. Why would you want to leave behind the superior gender?" Spectra said. "Because it makes me feel horrible and like I was born wrong," "You were, weren't you," Don't let Spectra sink her claws in Fenturd! "Yeah, maybe I was, but if I work hard enough I can fix it," "How is Danny Phantom still here?" He heard Paulina say. Nope, not listening. "They're all going to know. You can't do anything about that," Spectra laughed evilly. "Now girls, follow the recipe! You too now," "I'm. NOT A GIRL!" The wail was probably ill planned, but Danny wasn't thinking straight. Shit, humans. He cut himself off. "Oh come on now. No matter how many times you tell yourself that, you still have to cover parts of yourself. Don't tell me you don't wake up every morning and wish you were a real boy?" "I am. I am a real boy. I just have to take a few extra steps to get there," "Oh come on now. Stop lying to yourself. Maddie, how can you possibly call these eggs? They're green," Okay, maybe dealing with Spectra first was a bad idea. But she was also taunting his mom. Deal with Ember. She must be better than this.

So he flew to a stage. Ember was rocking out with a bunch of girls. Sam was in the background. This was probably one of the less dangerous problems. "Listen, if you're going to taunt me for the fact that I'm still here, do it already," "Hey, listen kid. I'm not actually going to taunt you. Kitty and Spectra are being complete jerks, but I'm not going to judge you for being trans," "Y-you're not?" "Heck no! I'm doing this because I wanted to have a fun night without guys. You included. I'll just have to take a few extra steps to get rid of you!" Danny dodged the guitar strum easily. "Are you planning on bringing them back at the end of the night?" "That's really up to Kitty," "I guess," Sam could deal with Ember.

Next up was Kitty. Oh great, makeup. (I honestly forget what Kitty was doing, so makeup works) "Now girls. All you gotta do is apply the bronzer like so!" "Kitty! How would Johnny feel if he knew you were doing this?" "Oh come on now Ghost girl, you can't be serious. Johnny is having a guys night in all due time," "HEY! Don't you dare. Transphobia doesn't help anyone," Jazz yelled. "Oh stop complaining. She knows she doesn't belong with the guys. From the looks of it, Spectra's already gotten to you. This'll make this so much easier,"

The plan backfired immensely. Danny and Mom were a mess, Sam didn't manage to get the guitar, and Jazz just got in a debate with Kitty. Danny, having to keep up a facade, came downstairs. "How'd it go?" "Terribly. Though, I did learn the Ghost Boy is trans," Mom said. "Fascinating," "It's, well it's oddly human. Why would a ghost even bother?" "Turns out gender dysphoria comes to the grave," "Danny, this is no time for one of your morbid jokes," Yeah, maybe it was morbid, but it wasn't a joke. "Whatever. I guess we get to use Jazz's plan," "All we gotta do is convince them that a cis guy is still in town. Like wandered in after the disappearing act," "Great plan. Sam can't pretend to be me though," "How did you know I was going to do that?" "Lucky guess,"

So that's how Jazz ended up wearing a baseball cap and a pair of men's jeans into Ember's concert. "Did we really have to use a pair of dad's jeans? These barely fit," "You know, the fact that they fit at all should be surprising. Dad was skinny at one point in his life. Which means that one of us could be on his end of the gene pool," "It's probably you," "Don't make me think about that. Hiding what little chest I have is hard enough. If I got dad's genes, I'd honestly be terrified," "We haven't seen the women on his side of the family. And besides, you got the blue eyes black hair thing," "You are honestly scaring me. Now, I gotta scram before someone sees me talking to you. Mom or the ghosts," "Fair,"

And thus, the plan worked. Kitty, adamant that no men be left in Amity, blew another kiss. Ember amplified it. The men came back. The three got thermosed. Jazz laughed at their faces when they honestly though she was from out of town. Danny once again didn't get taken, even in ghost form.

Tucker and Sam found him curled up in his bed. "Hey man. I know this has gotta be tough for you," Tucker said. "Spectra had no right!" Sam continued. "Thanks guys. But I think I'm gonna take a few days off school," The trio heard Dash's voice outside. "Hey mom. I know what happened was scary. And I know it must've felt really bad, but I still see you as my mom," "Thanks Dash. I can always count on you to make me feel better," A woman's voice rang out. Danny looked over the window sill. "See Danny. It's not horribly weird. Just a few transphobic ghosts," Tucker laughed. "A couple," "What?" Sam and Tucker said in unison. "Ember isn't," "How do you know that?" "I talked to her," "Hey Fenturd! Don't you dare tell anyone about my mom! And don't be mean to her! I'm sure you wouldn't get it," "You'd be surprised Dash!" He grabbed his trans flag and hung it out the window. "I get it more than you seem to think!" Dash's mom smiled at him. "Y-you're trans? I thought you were just a loser!" "Yeah, and I had to talk to the transphobic ghosts. So I won't invalidate your mom!" Dash stared up at him. "Holy shit,"

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

Praying that this uploads, cause I've got shoddy internet rn. And I'm working on my Gravity Falls crossover fic. I just had this pop into my mind. Prolly just gonna be a oneshot. I might make another fic about Jack's side of the family later, that's connected to this one.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #dash baxter #trans!danny #trans!dash's mom #maddie fenton #kitty (ghosts)#ember mclain #phic #penelope spectra #tw:transphobia #tw: gender dysphoria #jazz fenton

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alarriefantasy · 4 years

Text

Hi, all! So it seems that the wonderful AO3 user - objectlesson - aka on tumblr as - horsegirlharry - has sadly deleted their fics. I have only a few saved in my files, but there are some I would really love to possess, if anyone has them? I would really appreciate it if you would message me and let me know! :)

Also, I am posting the whole list of amazing stories they shared for our fandom, and I am marking (with an asterisk*) the ones that I have myself, in case anyone else would like them too! <3

Silver White Winters

by objectlesson

In which Louis catches a cloud and pins it down.

Words: 5106, Chapters: 2/2, Language: English

I Must Confess (I Still Believe)

by objectlesson

Louis shrugs, eyes on the road. “You look cute in the blazer, too,” she says nonchalantly, and what the fucking fuck, what is Harry supposed to think?

“You probably do, too, but I wouldn’t know because I don’t even think you own one? Do you ever actually wear the entire uniform?” she asks, deflecting.

“Not since freshman year!” Louis boasts proudly. “They stopped giving me demerits because it’s, like, a lost cause. I literally haven’t seen my blazer in three years, I just borrow Veronica’s when I walk into Mass.” Her grin is very cheeky and bright, and she’s squinting in the sun, aviators pushed up into the overgrown auburn shag of her hair. The horizon is hazy and pink-orange as dark sneaks up on them, the air smelling of sprinkler water and BBQ smoke from people leaching the last warmth of October before summer’s gone for good. Harry feels alive with possibility, eyes watering as she smiles at Louis, unable to stop. She wrinkles her nose like it’ll somehow hide the way it looks on her face to be in love.

Or, Harry is the new girl at an all girl Catholic Girl’s School, and Louis is the unattainable, dashing senior who changes her forever.

Words: 44304, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Powerless (and I Don’t Care It’s Obvious)

by objectlesson

“Oh no, Lou, don’t make me laugh,” he whimpers. His Ribena-purple mouth twists into a glorious, breakable shape, and Louis’s heart stops. He should not be getting turned on by Harry’s full-bladder discomfort, his little twitches, his hips-stuttering. And yet.

Words: 4090, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

The Pink Ghost of Princess Park

by objectlesson

The thought of the vibrator does not go away. It’s sitting there collecting dust all through January, and every time Harry and Louis have to leave town for a press event or a show or to record or what have you, they come back home, and it’s still there, the Pink Ghost of Princess Park, the fucking glittery haunting that Harry cannot stop thinking of Louis stuffing up his arse.

Words: 7556, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

*Life Saver

by objectlesson

Nerd Boy’s giant, dorky, adorable hand shoots into the air. Louis notices he has chipped red polish on a few of his nails and some tattered friendship-looking bracelets, like the sort you make in camp, and he might hear the distant chime of wedding bells. He thought he didn’t even believe in marriage because it’s, like, oppressive and heteronormative or whatever, but that was before Styles, Harry (Harry Styles!!! What an absurd, wonderful name! What a perfect thing to scrawl in the margins of all his notebooks surrounded in hearts!) appeared in the bio lab at his new school and ruined all his principles forever.

or, Louis is a sweetheart punk with a theater background and a heart of gold, Harry is an inexperienced nerd who plays by the rules. Classmates, lab partners, and eventually friends, what happens when Louis knows he’s in love, but doesn’t know how tell Harry?

Words: 14809, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Even Your Honey Dew

by objectlesson

It probably says something about Harry that he’s so obsessed with another omega’s arse.

Words: 9512, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

What a Heavenly Way To Die

by objectlesson

She’s thought about it a lot, and two big things seem to be holding her back, aside from the uncontrollable paralysis that overtakes her body every time she so much as tries to sneak a hand under the waistband of Harry’s knickers.

Or, Louis is afraid to do stuff to Harry, who has done a lot of stuff to her.

Words: 8052, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

A Firm Believer and a Warm Receiver

by objectlesson

a few months ago, Louis had his first heat. It was no big deal, aside from it being awkward and weird and all the other things it was supposed to be. He figured he would present as an omega, so he wasn’t exactly surprised or anything.

But then, last week, Harry had his first heat, too.

Or, the omega/omega sleepover fic no one asked for but y'all really, really need.

Words: 10895, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

You’ll Know What Makes The World Turn

by objectlesson

Sometimes, when things are messy and they have more than a few weeks apart, they need the reminder. It’s comforting to have stars to map your course by.

or, Harry’s blue bandana is a day collar.

Words: 4624, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Sing You Butterflies

by objectlesson

Louis stares for a moment before some primal sympathetic force in him activates. He has to help this boy. He can hardly walk, and he seems so young (yet ageless, beyond age, like a sea turtle or a parrot or a tree or something else odd and magical), and on top of all that, he has body glitter clinging to his skin, like that roll-on stuff his sisters used to use as preteens, only pink-gold and twice as thick. It’s, like, professional grade. He’s also wearing grass- and dirt-stained pink silk women’s underwear, so maybe he’s from London. Maybe he’s a drag queen who crawled all the way from a nightclub in Soho just to save Louis from his horribly mundane and woefully heterosexual neighbours out here in the middle of nowhere.

or, Harry’s a clumsy unicorn who accidentally stomps on a witch’s garden and is turned into a human as punishment, so he wanders into a nearby village covered in glitter, still figuring out how to walk on two feet, and meets the fairy-tale-fine Louis, who has to teach him how to live as a human and stop him from eating soap.

Words: 22701, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Holy

by objectlesson

She deserves not to be so goddamned put together all the time. Being in the world’s biggest and highest exposure girlband means she’s never seen without a flat stomach, a spray tan, contouring, eyelash extensions, the whole of her body inescapably toned and plucked and waxed so frequently she genuinely forgot what fucking color her own pubes are. Louis wants to eat burgers and smoke weed and be twenty three. She wants to wake up with Harry and spend the whole day in bed fingering each other because they finally don’t have to have goddamn acrylic nails for once. She wants to grow her pubes out. She wants to lounge around in a posh, red-velvet High Hefner robe.

Or, Louis is dressed like a fucking queen, Harry’s begging please.

Words: 6608, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Only One I Dream Of: A Drabble Collection

by objectlesson

A collection of all the m/m One Direction drabbles and timestamps I’ve written on tumblr, so my readers on here aren’t missing out!

Words: 5164, Chapters: 5/13, Language: English

Diamonds in the Moonlight

by objectlesson

The 70s au where Harry is a rich girl stuck in the suburbs who thinks she loves Shaun Cassidy, and Louis is the skater who breaks into her backyard and changes everything forever.

Words: 16136, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

In the Heat of the Night

by objectlesson

“You’re sleeping with me, obviously,” Harry says then, pausing to regard Louis with a funny expression, nose wrinkled and brows drawn tight. “Don’t tell me you thought that I’d let you freeze out here!? Absolutely not! C’mon, the bedroom’s cozy, I dragged a space heater out.”

Louis wants to protest about as badly as she wants to sleep next to Harry Styles, which is a lot. Too much.

Or, Louis is the only butch in London with a truck and Harry needs to move a couch.

Words: 7726, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Once Upon a Dream

by objectlesson

“M’not gonna half-ass our fake relationship,” Louis almost snaps, voice sharp with a defensive edge, like Harry wandered too close to a bruise with needy fingers. “Now kiss me again. We’re gonna make every shitty tourist here wish they had stayed in the Midwest. We’re gonna burn Disneyland down with our gay. ”

Harry shuts his eyes and opens his mouth, because he can’t fucking say no to Louis.

Or, a fake dating AU where everyone is lying and they happen to be at the Happiest Place on Earth.

Words: 16643, Chapters: ½, Language: English

From Now Until Forever

by objectlesson

The girls go to Britney Nite and Louis wears Juicy track pants and Harry is not ok.

Niall takes the pint glass back from Harry and takes a swig, regarding her over the rim knowingly. “You’re nervous,” she observes with a grin. “Because you’re gonna get drunk at a gay bar with Louis, and you haven’t told her yet that you wanna marry her.”

“Oh, my god, stop,” Harry scolds, hiding her face in her hands, everything suddenly hot and shivery. “It’s not that,” she adds, even though it most definitely is.

“Then…you’re excited to see Louis in a schoolgirl skirt and bra? Covered in that body glitter that smells like cotton candy?” Niall presses, waggling her eyebrows, making Harry blush at the mere thought of Louis’s golden skin shimmering and sticky under club lights.

Words: 9223, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Hello, Heaven (you are tunnel-lined with yellow lights

by objectlesson

“Oh, yeah?” Harry asks, playing dumb as he helps Louis out of his coat before hanging it up. “A new phone charger? Mine’s still broken, the electrical tape didn’t work.”

Louis makes a face at him, all arched brows and tongue pressed into cheek. “Oh a phone charger? Is that what you need?” he quips lightly, voice high and lilting in this sing-song way that’s so, so high and gentle that it’s scary. He’s putting on a show for Harry, and Harry’s thrilled with it, already shivery and hot-cheeked because Louis got him something naughty, and they’re talking about it without really talking about it, wrapping it up in layers of mundanity and domesticity, still so excited to play the role of two Adults living in their new Adult flat in London that they bought with their own money from the X Factor. Harry’s living an unimaginably glamourous life so suddenly, and Louis and his gifts are right in the middle of it, the heart of his every dream.

Or, Louis buys Harry things sometimes.

Words: 2988, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Dream About That Casual Touch

by objectlesson

And that was the first thing Louis noticed about her. Not her nipples, or not only her nipples, anyway, but the fact that she was so confident with her body and didn’t seem to care that her tits were sort of soft and floppy and uneven or that she had a little roll of pudge around her hips that poked over the top of her jeans when she wore crop tops. She wore what she wanted to wear whether or not it was in fashion or technically even flattering; her hair was always messy, she only wore makeup half the time, and she seemed to like heeled boots even if she was already fairly tall and they made her tower over the boys. Louis always thought it was so fucking sexy how unconcerned Harry seemed with what people thought of her, how comfortable she was in her own skin. That by itself seemed like a sort-of gay thing, so Louis kept a remote, careful eye on her, hoping to one day see something else that blipped her radar.

Or, Louis and Harry fuck up two dates before they finally get it right.

Words: 7678, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

*Smoke Dreams from Smoke Rings

by objectlesson

“When I get a craving?” Louis says, “You have to help me chase it away. Distract me”

Oh. Harry can think of about one hundred different ways to distract Louis Tomlinson. One hundred better uses for his mouth, for example. “Erm,” he squeaks, well aware of the fact that he’s grinning and dimpling and blushing all at once, his whole face a suddenly mortifying warzone of transparent emotion. “How?”

“By hitting my arm as hard as you can,” Louis announces, holding out the arm in question. It bridges the gap between them, stiff and expectant, and Harry stares, not entirely sure if Louis’s being serious, if this is some prank that he isn’t clever enough to understand, or if the promise of touching Louis under any circumstances is so titillating that he just can’t process it. Louis rolls up the sleeve of his hoodie then, revealing his pale inner arm in maddening increments, pushing Harry somewhere between drooling and vomiting, he isn’t sure which. He just knows that his mouth is flooded, and the barely-there ghost of Louis’s veins through his skin is the prettiest thing that he’s ever seen. “Go on, hit me,” Louis orders. “Don’t be shy,”

or, Louis enlists Harry to help him with his bad habit.

Words: 18116, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Black Stars and Endless Seas

by objectlesson

Or, A Star Trek Original Series AU where Lt. Styles is a young science officer on his first away mission, and Louis is the headstrong ensign assigned to his security detail, and maybe they would be able to function together professionally in a normal setting, but not when their shuttlecraft crash-lands and they end up marooned together on an improbably and unfairly beautiful planet.

Words: 32246, Chapters: 3/3, Language: English

Rose Garden Dreams

by objectlesson

Harry thinks it’s a fever-induced delirium, at first. After all, she’s been sick in bed for a full forty-eight hours following the Best and Most Important beach trip of her entire life because fate is a cruel and jealous bitch who doesn’t want Harry to go on a date with the girl of her dreams.

or, Harry is sick and Louis comes to visit her.

Words: 9464, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Palms Reflecting in Your Eyes

by objectlesson

Harry visits Louis at his campus and finds a crop on the wall.

Words: 6496, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Wrap You Up in Daisy Chains

by objectlesson

Ten minutes later, an awkward, long-legged, curly-haired, so pale she’s reflective, and so obviously gay-looking Harry Styles is sitting shotgun next to Louis in a bikini, denim cut-offs, and heart-framed sunnies.

Or, Harry and Louis and a too-small bathing suit.

Words: 10613, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

To Keep the Night From Ending

by objectlesson

It doesn’t always feel real to kiss in the dark, Harry guesses. He wants it to feel real. He wants it to be the realest thing, burnt indelibly into his skin.

Or, Harry and Louis take a night swim.

Words: 5036, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Good Enough to Eat

by objectlesson

“Fuck,” Harry mumbles, shuffling. “You won’t give me shit for it? It’s sorta weird.”

“No,” Louis breathes. “Promise.”

“Okay. I just…fuck, I can’t believe I’m telling you this,” Harry whimpers, and he must be blushing because Louis can feel waves of heat coming off him, his embarrassment a hot, palpable thing. “So, like…I love rimming videos. Nothing makes me come harder,” he admits, covering his face with his hands so his voice comes out muffled and strangled.

It takes Louis a few seconds to process, to mentally rifle through his Pornhub search history and remember what rimming even is; Harry has him so stupid he can’t keep stuff straight. His ears ring, and then it hits him, and, oh, fuck. His stomach turns and tightens so quickly he’s gasping, an audible and shameful scrape of air in the dark. “You…really?” he chokes out.

Or, Harry is convinced he’s never gonna be able to try his favorite porn fantasy on a real boy, and Louis offers to remedy this.

Words: 6722, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Grenadine Sunshine

by objectlesson

Harry’s only sixteen, it shows right now, and Louis wants…he wants so many things. He wants to taste the faint, sugary ghost of lip gloss, he wants to cup Harry’s face between his palms and swipe the shimmery wet shadows from beneath his eyes. He wants to show him everything he knows, even though he doesn’t know anything about this, about kissing boys or flirting with them or doing their makeup or even showing them it’s okay to want to wear makeup in the first place. Still, Louis just wants, wants and wants and wants. It’s what Harry does to him.

Words: 18067, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Only Angel

by objectlesson

Louis pops his hip out, looking down at Harry from beneath the cut of his fringe sassily. “How do I look?”

Harry…Harry doesn’t have words, not really. He sits there on the floor with a half-hard cock, gazing up at this taller, scarier version of Louis with wide eyes. “Like I want you to spin-kick me in the face,” he admits after a moment, shakily inhaling. “You look…really good.”

Or, Louis finds a pair of heels that fit, and Harry wants to be ruined, as per usual.

Words: 6599, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Someone Who Knows How To Ride

by objectlesson

Harry gives Louis a lap dance. Or, at least, he tries to.

Words: 5114, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Copper Kiss

by objectlesson

Harry’s not allowed to fly back to the UK without marks to remember Louis by.

Words: 4604, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

You Drive Me Crazy ( I Just Can’t Sleep)

by objectlesson

The first time Louis ends up in Harry’s bed is a total accident.

Words: 18520, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Christmas Without You

by objectlesson

It’s Christmas Eve and Harry misses Louis so badly he might be going little crazy.

Words: 5639, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Vinyl and Lace

by objectlesson

Harry tries on a skirt in the X Factor dressing room as a joke. Louis doesn’t think it’s very funny.

Words: 7541, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Touch of My Hand

by objectlesson

Words: 3104, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: One Direction (Band)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Additional Tags: Tour Bus Sex, Bus Sex, PWP, Up All Night Tour, Uan era, Canon Compliant, baby boyfriends in love, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Established Relationship

Born to Make You Happy

by objectlesson

Harry makes a quiet vow to himself that he will be the very best girlfriend Louis has ever had, even if he never actually gets to be Louis’s girlfriend.

Words: 25662, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Taste of a Poison Paradise

by objectlesson

Louis notices Harry’s mouth right away.

Words: 9894, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

A Little Love (is better than none)

by objectlesson

It’s supposed to be no strings attached sex, but Harry’s in love with beauty and tragedy and Louis Tomlinson so there might actually a few strings they’re not talking about.

Or, alternately, the four times they fuck and don’t kiss, and one time they fuck and do (with a few more times thrown in because I’m a mess and know how to write short fics).

Words: 15074, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

*Take Me Under the Blue

by objectlesson

Louis hasn’t even seen his legs yet. He doesn’t know how they work or how long they’ll be. Maybe they won’t suit the rest of Harry at all, and he’ll have to grow into them or something. It doesn’t matter; Louis has loved Harry for a year with scales, so he can’t imagine wonky legs putting a damper on his attraction.

He supposes he’ll just have to find out. In the meantime, he wonders how the fuck he got here, in his squelching wellies about to save the love of his life from the sea and take him to bed and bang him for the very first time.

It’s sort of a long story.

Words: 19011, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

#deleted fics #objectlesson #horsegirlharry #larry fics #larry stylinson #larry fic rec

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babbushka · 4 years

Text

Biting Dust - Ch. 1

Life ain’t too easy for a woman, ‘specially not a woman on the run like you. With a bounty on your head and gunpowder in your nose, you’ve grown adjusted to a life of solitude away from the hustle and bustle of civilization. That is, until you meet one particular man who’s got a face you’d only ever seen in your dreams – or on wanted posters. And when he offers you a proposition that sounds too good to be true, well. You don’t think your life will ever be the same again...

Outlaw!Kylo Ren x Reader

Tumblr Masterlist | Available on AO3

5.5k ; Warnings: Mentions of murder, hanging, arson.

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

You wonder, sometimes. Wonder how it all turned out like this, how this was the life you now led. You wonder if you could go back and do anything over, if you’d do anything different. Sometimes you don’t do so much wondering, there ain’t the time when you’re on the run with sheriffs at your back; but times like this, with nothing but the uncharted desert sprawling out in front of you, all you could do was wonder.

Something wisps up into your eyes and you cringe as you scrub it out -- sand, stinging and coarse. Nothing but sand, as far as the eye could see. You really fucking hate sand, you think, as the rising sun carries on up into the sky, bringing with it a gentle enough breeze that makes your horse, Agnes, toss her mane in delight. She whinnies softly, and you pet the back of her neck as she does, trudging through the sand after a long night of riding, a long night straight through the desert.

“Almost there,” You reassure her, “Shouldn’t be too much farther now.”

You’d robbed a bank the day before, and damn it all that had proven to be a poor enough decision. Ain’t no money in the bank, nothing at all, nothing but a whole group of cowardly men who were quick to whistle for the dogs that went bitin’ at your ankles.

They paid for that offense against you, had paid with their lives.

If only they had had any money for you to take with you, as you sped off into the night, not daring to stop until you had put enough distance between you and the men with steel.

Now, you don’t even have robbing on your mind. No, you think as Agnes chuffs and complains about the tiredness in her hooves, you’d settle for something as simple as a cool and dry bed, a hot bath, maybe enough time to clean your clothes and have a bite to eat before you’re off again.

A bed, bath, and crust of bread which you were looking forward to in the next town over. Robbing that bank hadn’t been entirely useless after-all, you use the morning sunlight to figure out this chicken-scratch cartography off the map you’d quickly grabbed before dashing out of the blazing bank, flames engulfing everyone and everything inside it as you make your escape.

“If we did this right, we should be there before the sun comes up over the canyons.” You tell her.

She only chuffs again, and you know that she too will be looking forward to a soak in a lake somewhere to wash the blood off her hide.

If you weren’t so damn tired, you might appreciate the view. The marbling of the earth around you as the sun begins to shine down on the many layers, millions of years in the making, should be breathtaking. The all-encompassing orange and reds, the slight hints of purple, the occasional dappling of yellow speak to a world ancient, as old as time.

It really puts into perspective, this whole thing, your whole life. See, dammit there you go thinkin’ again, wondering again. You clench your jaw and urge Agnes forward a little further, knowing she really can’t take much more before needing a rest. You know, but still you ask her gently to keep on moving, because the sooner you get into town, the sooner the both of you can rest.

“I think…I think that’s it, just up ahead.” You say softly to the old gal, patting her shoulder encouragingly. “You did it, thank you, thank you Aggie.”

Your horse catches wind of the scent of something, something that excites her, and suddenly she’s bolting in the direction of the town, of the piece of civilization that you can just barely see. There’s civilization of some sort, that’s for sure, you can see the little specs of buildings out in the distance. There’s many of them, which is good, really good. It doesn’t look as big as a trading post, but that’s okay – there’s less of a chance that anyone would know who you are.

You hold on tight as Agnes gallops through the canyons, falcons flying overhead, their shadow blurring past on the sandy ground as the wind whips through your hair. You feel elated, feel like you could fly, just like those falcons, flying and soaring straight to salvation in the form of a sheltered room and a drink of water.

Your canteen isn’t empty, but anything left you have will go to Agnes. She can’t tell you when she’s so thirsty she’s half to death, so you don’t ever let her get close. Your last sip of water was two days ago, and you know you can hold out a little longer, will drink the bathwater if you have to, but Agnes does more hard work and so she gets the water.

None of that matters, because Agnes is sprinting, and you’re reminded of why she’s called the fastest Beast in the West. Huge plumes of sand kickback as her hooves dig into the earth, bringing you closer closer closer to the town, at a speed which will no doubt raise suspicion, will no doubt cause unwanted attention.

“Not so fast there girl!” You calm her down, “I know, I’m excited too, but not so fast! They’ll start shootin’ at us!”

That seems to make enough sense to her, because her breakneck pace reduces down to a trot pretty quickly. Your hair is tangled and in your mouth and eyes, your hat nearly flung straight off your head, but all is well. Nothing had fallen out of the knapsacks on the saddle, and the entrance of the town is only a few more hundred feet away.

“Woahh, stop for a minute.” You command her, tugging on the reigns ever so slightly. She looks over her shoulder at you, and you know you’ve spent too much time alone when you can begin to read the annoyed look in her eye. “Just a minute, I need to change.”

Hopping down from Agnes, you take her by the reigns and guide her behind a large wide stone which juts out into the air some couple dozen feet. You’re just past the edge of the canyons now, but you’re thankful for these little hidey spots, because they’re the perfect cover for swapping out clothing.

Clothing was crucial a lot of the time, for you to go through the world unnoticed. It wasn’t all that common for outlaws to have more than one set of something, and you use that to your advantage, stripping down completely naked right there in the middle of the desert. Stuffing the blood-stained and filthy riding clothes into one of the knapsacks, you exchange that for a beautifully clean and well maintained dress and undergarments. It wasn’t fancy like some high society woman might have, but this particular shade of blue cotton looked nice on your skin tone.

It reminds you of your old life, how you would wear something like this damn near every day, not just on special occasions where a disguise was necessary. The cotton was blue and the cut was perfectly flattering. The high neck concealed some unsavory scars, and the puffed sleeves accentuated your frame. There was some frilly detailing around the chest which you thought was a nice touch, but most of all, it buttoned down the front instead of down the back, which was nothing short of a lifesaver, when you had to dress all by yourself.

Over a clean pair of undergarments and petticoat this dress goes, and back up onto Agnes you climb, your transformation complete. You now look nothing like a filthy sharp-shootin’ bank lootin’ outlaw, instead you look like…well, something far more innocent than that.

If you can just keep your head down and stay out of the way for the rest of the day, not bother anyone and leave first thing a morning from now, you’ll be on to bigger and better adventures. Nevermind that your entire life feels like running away from something instead of towards something, nevermind.

“Show time Aggie.” You tell her, nudging her hindquarters with your boots once more.

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

The layout of the town is as basic as they come, which you appreciate. Two long strips of main buildings on either side of a dirt road, beautiful wooden structures some two stories high. Some of them have got signs hanging from the porch denotin’ that that’s the general store, that there’s the post office. Some others have their names painted on the window, letting you know that there’s the bathhouse and over yonder there’s the armory.

No bank, you notice.

What you do notice, is the large saloon right at the end of the road, a culdesac of sorts, and you are sure that you hear the heavens open up and shine down on you, angels singing, because there’s a small sign that proudly announces vacancies. The building is huge, three stories tall and framed with the most beautiful wooden support beams with decorative carving. There’s music coming from inside, distant strumming of guitars and harmonicas that seem cheerful and jovial, and you’re glad that this town isn’t immediately hostile.

While you’re busy trying not to weep of relief that you’ll have a relatively safe spot to lay your head, a spot to let Agnes rest, the townsfolk are busy noticing you. They must not get many visitors round these parts, because everyone you pass stops in their tracks and stares.

They don’t exactly look unfriendly, just confused, as if they’d never seen a lone woman ride into town before – and maybe they haven’t. Oh well, you think with the hint of a smile as you tip your hat to a little girl with beautifully thick and long braids down her back, you can only hope to be an inspiration.

There’s men bargaining about something who stop and turn to you, women who drop baskets of bread as you pass. The children which laugh and play round polished bronze statues in the courtyard all halt and whisper amongst themselves, wondering who you are, what you could want, why you’ve come.

You just smile at them, show them all you mean no harm, knowing that this is their home, and you’re only passing through. This seems to appease the adults, but the children with their wide-eyed curiosity aren’t so satisfied. You try not to chuckle as parents have to steer their sons and daughters away from the road to keep them from rushing straight up to you and asking a million questions.

“You rest here, eat up.” You whisper to Agnes when you finally approach the end of the road, hopping off her back as elegantly as possible, leading her to a covered set of posts and a trough of water and feed, tying up her rope so she can’t go wanderin’ anywhere – not that she would.

With a deep breath of courage, knowing that your gun was hidden safely inside a makeshift pocket in the dress, should you need it, you push through the double swinging doors of the saloon.

All at once, the music, the chatter, the jovial laughter and clinking of glasses grinds to a screeching halt, as every patron of the bar stops and turns towards you. You can feel the weight of their stares, but you hold your ground, keep your chin up.

“Sorry to disturb,” You clear your throat there in the doorway, “But is this where a lady might be able to rent a room for the night?”

At the question, the saloon deems you to not be a threat at all, and you can practically taste the way the tension in the air dissolves. A lady looking for a room wasn’t nearly that interesting, not compared to a winning hand of cards, or the dregs of a beer, and you’re glad for it.

“Up the stairs.” The elderly bartender smiles at you real friendly-like as he shines some glasses.

“Thank you kindly.” Your curtsey is rusty, and your entire body aches from the exceptionally long journey, but you ignore the protest of your sore joints as your botos carry you over to the staircase and you ascend up away from the bar.

The second floor lobby of the saloon looks like a proper hotel, which surprises you. There’s a woman at a front desk just beyond the stairs, and she sure seems excited to see you. She’s a portly woman with greying hair plaited nicely in braids that rest along her chest, but she’s got a sharp glimmer to her eye, a glimmer you can appreciate.

“Well hello there! You lookin’ for a room?” She calls over to you, beckons you towards the front desk.

You take your hat off and hold it between your two hands, your own hair twisted and pinned into the messiest bun you’d ever done just so it didn’t look such a wreck from the long ride. You walk over to the desk and are more than grateful when she offers you a cup of crisp cool water.

“Yes ma’am, I am, my name is Mary Elizabeth Sampson,” You lie, “I saw the sign out front and was hopin’ that them vacancies might still be around.”

You try your best to not slam back the water the second the glass is in your hand, instead you bring it up to your lips in a measured sip, savoring the way the clean smooth taste of it travels in rivulets down your throat. You would never take this for granted, water.

Never in a hundred years would you not be eternally thankful for this elixir of life. The old woman at the desk smiles at you with a slight amusement, for she must know how badly you want to chug it. Instead of saying anything about it though, she pulls out a thick book and opens it up onto the desk, flips to the first blank slot.

“You’re in luck – we’re a fair price and good for it. Beds cleaned every day, breakfast lunch and dinner brought right up to you if you’d like from the bar downstairs. We’ve even got a hot bath out back, although that’s an extra price.” She says it so casually that you nearly miss it, but there ain’t no denying the way you choke in your excitement at the luxury of this place.

“How much would one night, meals and a bath cost, altogether?” You wipe water off your chin with the back of your hand, lick it off straight from your dirty knuckles, heart thrumming in your chest.

Were you dreaming? This place sounded like damn near a dream, you can’t help but think. It’s got everything you had asked for, and seemed nice enough to boot. You know your purse is light, you’ve only got five gold dollars to your name since the bank last night proved to be a bust. You’re hoping beyond hope that she doesn’t take your last coin – but you know that you’d give it to her if you had to.

“Altogether you’re lookin’ at about a buck fifty.” She replies, relieving you immensely. She points out the prices of the amenities on a piece of paper she pulls out from behind the desk so you know she’s not just high-ballin’ you, “Fifty cents for the room, buck for food and bath. You won’t find a fairer price around.”

“Do you happen t’have change? I’ve only got solid coins, I’m afraid.” You’re quick to show that that’s acceptable, more than acceptable, as you reach into your other pocket – the one that doesn’t have the gun – for a little drawstring purse.

You pull out two dollars, try not to think about how light your purse becomes from it, and slide it across the desk. The old woman clamps her teeth around the coins to make sure they’re good, and is very pleasantly surprised when she sees that they are.

“I sure do, here’s the key to your room, it’ll just be down the hall and to the left.” She hands you the leftover fifty cents, and an old iron key from a series of hooks up on the wall. You gratefully accept both items, and return the glass to her, now empty of every last drop of water, prompting her to say, “You know, it’s funny. I’ve been runnin’ this hotel for ten years and I ain’t never had two customers in two days. Is there some sorta movement happenin’ ‘cross the West?”

Your eyebrows shoot up at that, at there being another stranger. No wonder they had all stopped and stared so dramatically, you think. The townsfolk might think there must be something going on, to have two visitors so close together. You shrug in earnest though, trying to be as non-descript as possible, not give anything away one way or the other.

“I think there’s always going to be some sorta movement, but anything specific I can’t say for sure.” Your answer is open enough that the woman catches on and chuckles, waves you off and begins to step away from the desk, off back to do who knows what.

“I won’t keep ya, it’s so early you must’ve ridden through the night. I’ll bring breakfast up shortly, you just go on and get comfortable.” She says, and you nod in thanks before --

“Oh! Oh – wait, before you go, my horse, I’ve got a horse. Is there an extra charge to groom and board her for the night? She’s out eatin’ from the trough right now, I don’t want to go skippin’ out on any bills.” You rush back to the desk, and with all your commotion, the old woman can’t help but laugh.

“No Miss Sampson, we’ll take care of her for free. You go on and rest now.” She’s firm and kind, and you’re grateful for it.

In fact, you’re grateful enough that when she’s out of sight beyond the desk, you reach over and open the drawer where she took your payment, and you drop the change she had given you back into the little slot she’d taken it from, a silent thanks for the kindness, and lack of questions.

As you turn away for the final time to head towards your room, you stop cold in your tracks.

For up on the wall is a series of wanted posters, all printed and hung up recently, thick black ink letters boasting grand rewards.

Among them, your heart thuds a little bit quicker in your chest, is your name.

WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE

(Y/N) ‘ANGEL EYES’ (L/N)

MURDERESS – ARSONIST – BANK ROBBERY

REWARD - $25,000

The image of your face is crudely drawn, so much so that you barely recognize yourself. They didn’t get a single one of your features right – but who could blame them. You never left any witnesses, never left anyone alive. Still, it’s enough that your name is up there, your real name.

Slightly above your wanted poster, is a poster you’ve seen damn near everywhere. Part of you is proud, proud that you’re movin’ on up the hierarchy of danger, as it were. You recall the days where Sheriffs were advertising only a couple hundred bucks for your head. Now you were a whole quarter of a hundred grand, which surely had to mean something, some sort of stepping on up in the criminal world.

The poster above yours though, now that man was a legend.

PROCLOMATION OF THE GOVERNOR OF KANSAS

REWARD FOR THE CAPTURE OF EXPRESS AND TRAIN ROBBERS

GANG HEADED BY NOTORIOUS MURDERER

KYLO REN

$100,000

Kylo Ren, now that was a name. And what a name for such an outlaw! He was well known all across the desert, in every canyon and mountain, every cliffside and town and trading post had his face slapped up on the walls.

Well, not his face.

No one had ever seen his face. Unlike you, he frequently left witnesses, people to tell the story of the chaos that took place that day, people to spur on the legends of his greatness. He was a train robber, one of the meanest around. They said he was a Pony Express boy back in the day, and had dodged death at nearly every turn. Seems as though he turned a page and started dealing out blows rather than taking them, him and his notorious gang who call themselves the Knights of Ren, like somethin’ out of a medieval fairy tale.

The photo on the poster, despite not showing anything other than a black bandana and a blind eye, seems to stare straight through to your soul.

You wonder if you’ll ever get up there, get up to $100,000. It doesn’t do to dwell though, and you know that if that old woman were to come back and see you staring she might get suspicious, so you just move along.

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

The room isn’t much more than four walls and a bed, but you don’t care – this is the first time you’ve seen a bed in weeks, possibly in months. Losing track of the days was a bad habit of yours, but everything begins to blend in together when you’re out there, out in the desert. All you have are sun ups when the heat is so stifling as it ripples in waves across the sand, and the sun downs with the venomous critters that’ll kill you dead if they manage to get a hold of you.

Slipping off your shoes, you tuck yourself under the sheets and let your eyes close. It feels good, this. Feels good to not have to worry about imminent danger. You’re here tucked up, Agnes is out enjoying fresh water and food, and though your stomach rumbles, you know that eventually breakfast is on its way.

It mustn’t be any later than ten in the morning, but you’re sure you could sleep the whole day away anyway. It’d do you good, would keep you out of the way. Hopefully the folks around would forget about you entirely, and there’d be no trouble.

The door knocks then, and you suppress a groan as you get back out from the covers, and go to open the door. On the other side is the woman, holding a wooden tray with a bowl of steaming hot porridge, johnnycakes, and a fresh brewed mug of coffee.

“Sorry to disturb, I just wanted to get this to ya while it was still hot.” She says, and you invite her in by opening up the door a little further. “The stable boys are givin’ your horse a good wash right now, she’ll be boarded up in the stable right on the side, should you want to ride her ‘round at some point in the day.”

“Thank you ever so kindly, but I think she and I’ll just catch up on some much needed sleep.” You gratefully accept the tray, put it right on the edge of the bed where it won’t be disturbed. The food smells delicious, better than anything you’d had in weeks, and you can’t wait to dig in.

The old woman regards you for a moment, and while you’re turned away from her, she says ever so softly,

“Is it a man?”

Your hands still just as you go to pick up the coffee, and you sigh.

“Pardon?” You ask, turning to face her slowly, knowing exactly what she means but needing to play dumb enough so that she doesn’t know that you know.

“What you’re runnin’ from. Is it a man?” She asks again.

You sit down on the bed, warming your palms with the mug.

Casting a glance out the window, you see the townspeople milling about in the street, all going along with their daily business. Once upon a time, that was you. It feels like an eon ago, and it might as well be, because you know that you can never return to a life like that, a life like the one you watch from your window. Never again.

She’s still standing there, and you don’t want to be rude, so you swallow your pent-up feelings and simply shrug sheepishly.

“That obvious, ain’t it?” You put on a façade of shyness, even though it’s not really a lie, not really.

“No.” The old woman huffs out a little laugh, putting her hands on her hips and surprising you by saying, “I’ve just been in your position, and I know kindness don’t come often.”

“The visitor who came through yesterday…” You suddenly grow curious, “What were they like? Are they still here?”

She waves you off though, probably thinking you’re insinuating that a man might be following you now. And that may very well be true, very well could be the case. You burned that bank down to the ground but that doesn’t mean someone could’ve sniffed out your trail and was headed straight for you. The woman shakes her head reassuringly, and your curiosity both grows and lessens.

“Nah Miss he’s long gone. Sheriff had him dealt with when he caught him trying to steal one of the horses out of the sheriff’s own stable, if you can believe it!” She chuckled, making your eyebrows shoot up.

“When you say ‘dealt with’..?” You trail off, wondering what kind of people these were.

“Oh well hanged of course. They don’t hang horse thieves where you’re from?” She asks you as if such an idea were unheard of to her.

That’s very interesting, you think. Very interesting indeed, such a sharp punishment for a crime that didn’t even happen. Most towns would have given the poor guy a trial, but he was only here for less than a day before hanged? Maybe these folks weren’t as friendly as you had assumed.

That’ll teach you to assume, you know the old saying.

“They rarely punish the folks who deserve it, where I’m from.” You say quietly, and the old woman gets the hint.

“I won’t ask where that is, but do you mind me askin’ where you’re headed?” She moves towards the door and you figure why the hell not, tell the truth for once.

“Colorado, much like everyone else it would seem.” You say, say out loud this dream you’ve had for so many months, “Hopin’ to get lucky and strike some gold before it turns into another mess like California.”

She’s pleased with that answer for whatever reason, and she gives you a knowing smile.

“I wish you luck with that, Miss Sampson, I really do.” She nods in the direction of the tray, where the porridge and sticky sweet pancakes are still nice and piping hot. “Enjoy your breakfast, take a bath. I’ll leave lunch outside your door and knock in case you’re asleep.”

With that, she’s gone, and you raise your armpit to see just how badly you smell to encourage – oh shit, you think, your whole face scrunching up after taking a whiff. Awful, is the conclusion, you smell awful. So badly that you almost lose your appetite from it, something that makes you laugh because it catches you so off-guard.

That woman had more patience than you could ever imagine, waiting so long to say anything about it, the stench, and that only makes you laugh harder, for you haven’t had a moment to laugh like this in a long long time.

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

With food in your belly, and after a long soak and scrub in the boiling hot tub out back, you sleep. You sleep the whole day away, sleep and let your dreams wander to simpler times, kinder times.

Your mind conjures up images of beautiful farmlands, cattle and gently baaing sheep. Numbers and letters dance behind your eyelids, midnight swims in the lake rush over your skin. It’s a good dream for once, a pleasant dream, not like the nightmares that typically plague you. Nothing like the flames which engulf your vision, or the booming laughter which turns to screams or or or --

“Speak of the goddamned devil --!” you gasp awake, your dreams ruined in an instant.

Bolting straight up, you’re disoriented for a moment, reaching for the gun in your pocket before sighing and recognizing this as the little hotel room. There is no danger here, you try and calm yourself down, try and stop the racing of your heart, but the cold sweat that’s shocked you awake grows clammy on your skin and you have to gulp down air.

The room is buttery golden, from the light of the setting sun which streams through the glass pane window. You quickly get out of bed and rush to the window, rush to see if anyone’s come, if they’re calling to run you out of town the way they did that attempted horse thief.

“I can’t stay.” You realize out loud, sighing into your hand as you rub your forehead, willing the spotted visions to blink away. You’d slept just about seven hours, which is probably more than the whole week’s worth of sleep combined, and you’d gotten your money’s worth of food and bath – plus they’d taken care of Agnes for you.

All of this justification runs through your head as you gather up your meager belongings and step into your boots. You twist your hair out of your face and open the front door, ready to place the key on the knob and slip out the back while everyone is at supper.

At your feet is another tray, a bowl of beans and a generous cut of beef along with a tear of bread and dried fruit.

You sigh, looking longingly down at it. Well, you think, better to not let the food spoil. Scarfing down the hot beans and the meat, you wrap the fruits and bread up in a cloth napkin and store it in your pocket. It’ll be a fine addition to the collection of foods you have packed in Agnes’ saddle, and you’re sure the addition will come in handy, not knowing of another town for many miles ahead.

You picked the perfect timing it would seem, because the saloon is empty, all the patrons at home for a home cooked meal with their families, and no one is around to see you head down towards the stable.

Agnes is happy to see you, as always. Her coat is shiny and white, she looks almost pearlescent so clean as this. Guilt pangs in your chest, you wish she could be so clean all the time. When you make it to Colorado and form your new life there, you decide you’re going to get yourself some land and let her spend the rest of her days grazing in peace.

“Ready to go gal?” You smile sadly, petting through her silky smooth mane.

She only whinnies softly, and without much more ado, you lead her out of the stable, and ride off into the sunset, on your way to the next stop en route to the Rockies.

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

On the outskirts of town, as the sky blazes beautiful oranges and reds, purples around the edges of the horizon and not a single cloud to be seen, you think about the old woman, you never got her name.

You can’t go back now, can’t go back to thank her more for her hospitality, her understanding. Who knows, you think to yourself, maybe you’ll see her again one day. Maybe you won’t, but life had a funny way of working out, didn’t it?

Up ahead, you see a poor soul hanging from a great big tree, his horse standing underneath it. That must be the thief, you reckon, the one the Sheriff was not too kind to. Goosebumps shiver up your spine, and you do your best to avoid looking at him out of respect. You knew that if you were strung up, you wouldn’t want any ogling eyes, so you simply urge Agnes to go a little faster, hoping that you might simply pass him and continue on.

You wonder if that might’ve been your fate, had you stayed. Perhaps that Sheriff would’ve gotten wind of the bank from the town over, might’ve warned him about any newcomers, might’ve warned him about you. You’ll be far out into the canyons by then, should that happen, you know. You know, and you just do your best to keep your head down, trying to let this man have some semblance of dignity.

Until that is, that poor soul doesn’t seem so poor at all, because as you grow closer, the moment he catches sight of you, you can hear the booming baritone of a voice shout across the desert,

“Hey! Over here! Hey!”

And you think in shock, that this man ain’t poor, he’s got to be the luckiest sonofabitch you’d ever seen in your life – because somehow, against all odds, he ain’t dead.

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

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#kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren/reader #kylo ren x you #kylo ren fanfic #reader insert #x reader #adam driver #adam driver character #my writing #historical au #western au #biting dust

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crimsonrae · 4 years

Text

The Wiles of Men and Women

Chapter One

Summary: Georgiana Stafford has just become betrothed to a man older than her father. Her last chance to enjoy society on her terms comes the night that court celebrates the birth of Princess Mary. She was prepared for just about anything, but she hadn't been prepared for him. Charles Brandon.CharlesxOC, Warning: Spanking

Rated: NC-17

A/N: This may be a one-shot, actually, honestly, it'll depend on how it's received by you lovely readers. This is my first time posting on tumblr (and I’m super nervous about it), I also have an account on AO3 and FF. I’m posting this here because I’ve notice a distinct lack of Charles Brandon stories and thought I’d share. Also, I've developed something of a crush on Henry Cavill recently and while watching the Tudors the line from the very first episode where Charles Brandon says "No. No. She begged." became stuck in my head and I wanted to explore this dominant, arrogant side to him with a character that is a bit bratty and arrogant herself. Please read, review, and enjoy.

Disclaimer: I own what is mine. Please don’t steal. Also, there is a good deal of smut and some spanking here. You were warned.

A Night of Revelry

"You are to be married."

The words echoed in Georgiana's ears as she watched the colorful swirls of silks and velvets that made up the dancers of the ballroom. It was the celebration for the birth of Princess Mary. Another Tudor had graced the world, though sadly not a male.

Georgiana could not have given a damn.

Her thoughts were made up of her engagement to the Earl of Worcester, a man only slightly older than her father. While many of her social circle would have born the indignity of being traded from one master to another with the cheerfulness of a summer butterfly, she could only feel the lock tighten on her ever-gilded cage.

She wanted to stamp her feet and scream at the unfairness of it all. Angry tears pricked at the edges of her blue eyes, but she refused to let any sign of weakness show. She was a Stafford; she knew her place in this world. Her father and uncle had beaten her worth into her on more than one occasion. Her father had no use for a daughter.

In truth, he had no use for a child, it was why he had gained special dispensation to marry her mother. The lady being nearly twenty years his senior, Henry Stafford had thought her incapable of bearing any further children than those from her first marriage. However, it took only their wedding night, the first and only time Henry and Cecily laid together, for the coupling to result in Georgiana's unwelcomed birth.

Now seventeen years later, Henry Stafford was unloading his only daughter off onto the first man to make him an acceptable offer. It was why she was to be presented at court on the morrow. It would be her intended's first chance to meet and gaze upon her. It was also the reason she had been forbidden to attend the festivities before her.

Georgiana felt a faint smirk pull at her supple lips, forbidding her from anything was a sure-fire way to ensure she would not do as requested, however. Her father had forbidden her from fighting. She had her half-brother, Edward, teach her to fence. Her mother had forbidden her to gamble. Her half-brother George, ironically now a man of the cloth, taught her every variation of cards and darts known to high and low society.

Her introduction to court was a mere formality. Her intended an old fat boar of a man that she had identified upon her arrival to the celebration was standing beside her father and uncle. Her wedding was to be in a month's time. This night of revelry, the first for another noble lady, would perhaps be the last for Georgiana and she intended to make the best of it. She would dance, she would drink, and if fortune favored her, then she would find a man to take her maidenhead in the most pleasurable way possible.

After all, why did men get to have all the fun?

She tightened the ribbons securing her mask to her face. Her dress, while not as ostentatious as some of the ladies, was still well-made and allowed her to skirt the line of either noble or servant. She didn't want to draw too many eyes, should her father discover her presence... she shuddered to think of what he would do to her.

Feeling confident enough to mingle, Georgiana stepped gracefully around the milling crowds to the side of the dance floor and found a glass of wine. It amused her to stop and listen to snatches of conversations. Most were comments on the Queen's failure to produce a son, though others were more scandalous.

The Earl of Pembroke had taken who as his mistress?

The Lady Annabel was with child? Hasn't her husband been in France for the last few months?

You'll never guess. His lover was a man!

Georgiana sipped at her drink and bit her tongue as she listened. Was this to be her life if she were allowed to stay at court?

As entertaining as the gossip was, there was an undercurrent of maliciousness that made her skin crawl. It wasn't difficult for her to ascertain that friendship here would be as hard to find as water in a desert. It was disheartening, to say the least.

Before long a courtier approached her for a dance. She slid her glass onto a passing tray and took the man's hands with a simpering smile, a pleasing rush warmed her veins, though this quickly dissipated.

His name was Owen Mayfield and she learned that was perhaps the only interesting thing about him. His palms were sweaty from his earlier exertions which Georgiana could forgive, but he seemed to have bathed in some overly floral perfume that had her holding her breath.

It was a relief when the dance finished. She tried not to giggle as she took the opportunity to hide back away in the crowds. She kept up her game of listening to gossip, not willing to enter into conversation, and willing to be more judicious of any further dance partners.

Perhaps it was because of her hesitance to engage in conversation that drew attention. Or perhaps it was the way she calmly wove a path around the room that allowed her to avoid her family as she observed.

Whatever it was, Georgiana slowly became aware of the fact that she was being watched. She had felt it first while dancing with another courtier. Her heart had raced and her head had felt pleasantly fuzzy as she had glided through the quick steps with her partner. She had initially dismissed the watchful feeling as too much wine, unwilling to let a trifle paranoia ruin her current joy.

Still, she had laughed and quickly begged off another dance with the rather charming Mr. Anthony Knivert. The need for fresh air suddenly becoming great as she slipped back into the shadows. It was here, she knew that her early realization of being watched had not been a trick of the mind. The sensation of eyes burned her and she felt a twinge of fear as she fought the urge to seek out her admirer's gaze in case it was her father.

Instead, she kept her head down and made her way to the hall. If it was her father, then she would make a quick escape. If not, perhaps her admirer would follow.

Quietly, she meandered to a tall window at the end of the aisle which overlooked the gardens. Clouds had moved in and a light rain fell over the courtyard. Away from the bodily warmth of the ballroom, she could feel the midwinter cold seeping into the palace. A shiver coursed through her back...but not from the chill.

Slowly, she shifted her gaze over her shoulder and back to the jeering celebration. A man stood just within the entrance to the hall. His deep blue eyes shined dangerously at her from behind a black and gold diamond pattern mask.

Her admirer.

Her stomach clenched at the sight of him. Despite the fact that half of his face was hidden from her, she liked the shape of his mouth and jaw, even the dimple of his chin. He was young and his form was pleasing to the eye and he knew it... A slow smirk pulled at his lips as she took her fill of him.

"Are you well, milady?" He asked almost mockingly. His voice was deep and smooth like the sonorous notes of a cello.

She refrained from answering.

A new game began to form in her mind as she gazed at him. Timid excitement swelled within her... Swallowing tightly, she smiled at him and breathed a faint laugh at her foolishness before taking a step back.

He followed.

She took another step.

He followed again.

Anticipatory recognition sparked in his gaze.

Her smile nearly turned triumphant as she whirled and slipped further away from the party. She didn't run, but it was a near thing as she listened to his heavy steps growing closer to her.

Georgiana thought her heart had beat fast before, but now it thudded in her chest so loudly she was sure he could hear it. Her hand grazed across cold stone as she dashed around a corner. She snuck a quick glance behind her and nearly yelped to see him only a few steps away. A ferocious grin painted his lips as she laughed and flew from his reaching grasp.

She only made it a few more steps before she felt his fingers grasp her arm and whip her around. He quickly backed her into a dark alcove away from any prying eyes. Though, she doubted that any would find them this far from the festivities. Breathless giggles spilled from her throat as she gazed up at him and he hummed amused.

A hand slipped to her waist and somehow impossibly, he moved closer to her. Her laughter slowly diminishing as her curiosity started to take over. She had never been this close to a man before... she liked the strength she felt in his grip, the warmth that emitted from his form. Tentatively, she smoothed a hand up his chest and reveled in the firm feel of his body.

His lips hovered just inches from hers, "Do you submit, lady?"

Submit?

Was she not a woman? Did the world not demand that she submit to men? A faint resentment burned in her heart at the word. She would only submit when forced.

Again, she refrained from answering and instead stole what she wanted. It was quick, a faint brushing of her mouth against his before she pulled back when he pressed for more. A low growl rumbled through his chest that made her smile.

"What's your name?" He asked, brushing his lips over her ear.

The sensation tickled her and sent a strange tingling heat to her core. Licking her lips, she gave her middle name, "Charlotte."

He pulled back with a faint frown, "Are you mocking me, milady?"

She pursed her lips, confusion apparent as she met his suspicious glance. He reached up and removed his mask, allowing her to see his handsome features fully. When she merely arched a brow at him, he realized that she did not recognize him.

He couldn't hold back a faint laugh, "My name is Charles, milady. Charles Brandon."

The name meant nothing to her.

"Charles and Charlotte. How fortuitous." She murmured, sagely amused. She drew a finger down his cheek and to the very lips she wanted to taste again. She gasped startled when his tongue darted out to suck on her delicate digit, all the while he held her gaze.

A flush spread across her cheeks and her stomach clenched again... how improper, but she dared not look away. Charles captured her wrist as he pulled away and placed a light kiss to the sensitive flesh, "Do you submit, Lady Charlotte?"

It took her a moment to remember how to speak, but even she was surprised by what fell from her lips, "...No..."

Charles raised a brow and slipped tantalizing fingers beneath the hem of her bodice, "No?"

Georgiana leaned into his touch as she tried in vain to suppress a moan that rose to her tongue, "No... I do not submit...But I do consent."

The distinction was important to her, maybe foolishly so, but it mattered little because he was upon her in a second. He claimed her mouth with the ferocity of a winter storm. So harsh, his lips bruised hers, but so pleasantly cool as his wicked tongued enticed her. He swallowed her whimpers and delved desperate touches to the small hints of skin her gown revealed. I

It wasn't enough by half. Her game of chase had whetted his appetite and he was so very hungry now. He needed her undressed and prostrated before him.

Abruptly, he pulled back and wrapped his hand firmly around her wrist as he pulled her down the hall. They weren't far from his chambers, but Georgiana wasn't to know that as she stumbled after him, flushed and bewildered.

She opened her mouth to demand an explanation, but he seemed to sense her confusion as he smirked at her over his shoulder, "A bed would be preferable, lady... and you will submit."

The surety in his voice had her baulking on principle, but a smaller part of her thrilled and fluttered at the pronouncement.

So, he had made the distinction.

Unbidden, her maidenhood clinched and shuddered around nothing and she had the sudden desperate desired to know what it would be like to be filled... to submit.

Oh God...What devil had she surrendered to?

The question reverberated in her consciousness as she was pulled into a dark room and Charles soundly locked the door. He didn't give her time to protest or rethink her actions before he attacked her lips again. She groaned as his expert touches drew her further into a curious sparking pleasure. Her own hands divested him of the colorful broach that held his collar closed as she sought the smooth flesh that laid underneath. He was so incredibly warm and felt so hard.

How could one man be this dizzying?

Time seemed to blur and disappear as articles of clothing littered the ground and they both became consumed by taste and touch. Rough fingers teased and tweaked at her nipples, pebbling the sensitive dusty pink skin until it was a darker blush. Georgiana whined and whimpered as her body was assaulted with these new and strange touches. Her nails raked across his bare shoulders as she arched into him, his responding growl, a pleasure in itself.

It was only when his hand slid down to her mound that she suddenly became aware of the wetness seeping from her. Unthinkingly embarrassed, she pressed her thighs together seeking to hide, but Charles would have none of it.

"No. No hiding." His blue eyes blazed down at her as he purposefully grasped her knees and forcefully parted her legs and pressed them to her chest, "Look at how wet you are... Absolutely, delicious."

She went scarlet and mewled lightly in protest as he chuckled sinfully. His gaze disappeared as he dipped down and she jumped when she felt the firm press of wet tongue to her most intimate area. Another rumble of laughter came from him, but Georgiana suddenly didn't care as the vibrations sent a strange tingling sensation to her belly and down through her legs.

She squirmed and wiggled, not sure if she was trying to get closer or further from him. Then she felt it. The press of something foreign at her entrance. She looked down, her chest heaving for air, only to find him staring back at her with wild dark eyes as he pushed a finger into her and then another.

It was uncomfortable, but not. It was invasive, but not. It was painful, but not... and she nearly bit through her lip as she watched him slowly pump those thick fingers in and out of her.

Something was building.

A light sheen of sweat started to bead over her skin and she wriggled as she tried to understand what her body was instinctively searching for, as she tried to find relief from this strange new pressure. She jerked when his thumb brushed over her swollen nub and white sparks of pleasure shuttered her eyes. Her walls clenched desperately around his fingers and she moaned, grasping at the sheets beneath her. She ached so sweetly and then he did it again.

A soft brush back and forth, barely-there – just enough for those sparks to ignite again, but this time he didn't stop. She cried out hoarsely as her legs jerked and her walls spasmed, releasing that exquisite pressure so swiftly that she was lost in seconds.

It took several minutes before she spiraled down from the heavens, he had sent her to. When she opened her eyes, it was to see him sucking on the fingers that had been in her, "Delicious."

A low whine left her at the sinful sight and he grinned darkly at her before he suddenly crouched and smoothed a trail of kisses and feather-light touches up her belly and over her chest, "You came so beautifully."

It was such a stark contrast to what had felt like a violent release that her body seemed to hum in response. She bit back further whimpers but spread her shaky legs to accommodate his broad body as he worked his way back up her.

Charles pressed a light kiss to the corner of her mouth and reached out to undo the ties of the blue lace mask that had managed to stay on this long. To his surprise, she tilted her head away from his touch, "Leave it."

"I want to see you. All of you." Yet, he didn't reach for the mask again.

Georgiana nearly acquiesced to the light demand in his voice, but a mischievous spark batted down that need. She smirked and nuzzled his cheek as she whispered, "Only if you're very, very good will I remove the mask."

Charles huffed a small laugh, "Have I not been good already?"

She shook her head, "Do better."

"You will regret that, lady." He murmured softly and started to tease her core once more. They were playing his game now after all, "Submit to me."

"No, sir." She breathed.

His cock twitched at being addressed so, though he knew that she hadn't meant it to be provocative. More than ever before, he was determined to get her to submit to him. He twisted her onto her stomach and straddled the backs of her knees. Biting kisses peppered her shoulders before he yanked her back by her hair into a kneeling position.

A smile crossed his lips as she caught sight of herself in his dressing mirror and gasped. Her body glistened, nipples hard, face flushed. She was an appetizing sight, but she could only stare as his hands reached around to caress at her intimate areas. He nudged her hair to the side with his nose as he nibbled lightly on her ear and enjoyed the small noises of pleasure she couldn't help, but emit, "Submit."

"N..n-no." She stuttered. Her hands grasped at his hips, pulling him closer in an attempt to find stability.

He bit punishingly at her neck and was rewarded with a lewd groan. His hard cock pressed firmly into the seam of her ass and she whimpered when he began to rock gently against her, "Submit."

A choked denial fell from her lips and he growled.

Her eyes were forced to watch as his hands slid over her stomach to her breasts as he groped and teased at her soft mounds. If it were possible, she flushed darker at the erotic sight of her body being handled so. Shame and embarrassment twirled in her veins despite the heated pleasure he was giving her and she attempted to look away. A particularly hard pinch to her nipple had her crying out as he brought her head back around, "Who said you could stop looking, lady? Eyes forward."

"It's unseemly, Charles." She whimpered pleadingly.

He laughed and pressed a kiss to her cheek, "And you enjoy it. I can tell. As wanton as a whore, you are."

She should be outraged, but only a low moan echoed from her mouth as she felt that lovely heat pool even hotter in her belly again. She shouldn't like being debased like this, but she did. He seemed to know what she was thinking as he smiled against her neck.

He scooted forward and pressed his legs into hers, keeping her thighs locked together tight before shifting ever slightly to slip his cock along her slit tauntingly. They both groaned at the sensation. She was so wet that he was able to grind against her easily. The head of his cock rubbed teasingly against her clit and she writhed back against him breathless. Unwittingly trying to angle him into her tight little entrance. He locked his arms around her as he fucked her shapely thighs and watched as her coil of pleasure began to wind tight again.

"Submit." He breathed and when she shook her head, unable to voice her denial, he shifted again and his cock left her well-attended and swollen clit alone. Georgiana whined in protest as he continued to chase his pleasure, but refused hers, "Submit or I'll continue to bring you to the edge with no relief while I find mine so close to your shuddering little hole."

"Charles." She gasped pleadingly.

It wasn't enough and he slid a hand over the curve of her ass and to the other hole that had thus far been neglected. It was almost as wet as her entrance and he prodded the rim tentatively, smirking as she tried to jerk away, "Even this little hole is winking in need."

He toyed and played with the delicate flesh, making her moan and cry, "Submit, Charlotte."

Instead of answering him, she pressed back against him suddenly trapping his hand between them. He found her gaze in the mirror and his breath was stolen by the desperate fire peering back at him. The muscles of her thighs tensed around his cock and he groaned at the exquisite feel. The little minx was trying to give him a taste of his own medicine.

That just wasn't acceptable.

Before she could try to take further control, he pressed her down into the bed and soundly smacked her bottom, "That was very naughty, Charlotte."

"You...enjoyed it."

A surprisingly delighted smile tugged at his mouth and he spanked her again, "Mouthy, brat. Submit."

She yelped and shook her head.

"Very well." He murmured and continued to turn her little bottom red.

She yelped and whimpered with each strike, but to his amazement didn't try to pull away. Low sobs began to pull from her throat as he continued her punishment before finally, he stopped and placed a hand to either side of her head. He lowered his body down onto hers and nuzzled lightly against her cheek. He wished that she had let him remove the mask. Ever so gently, he ground against her warmed bottom until he felt her arch into him and stilled, "Submit. I can feel how much you want it. Submit, darling."

She was close to giving in, he could practically taste it. Georgiana whined lowly as she pressed desperately against him, "Charles, I... I..."

"You?" He drawled softly.

"Please."

He kept still and allowed her to writhe against him, "Please what, Charlotte?"

She grunted in frustration when she couldn't get him to move, "Please I... I need you..."

"You need me...?" His tongue lathed at the rim of her ear, "Come on, darling, just a few more words."

"I need you to..." She choked as his hand moved under her and swallowed the last of her pride, "God... I need you to -to take me. I –I s-submit. I submit. Please."

A pleased hum sounded above her before she felt Charles press a kiss to the crown of her head, "Good girl."

He sat back on his heels and widened her legs, admiring his handiwork as she presented to him. He placed a light kiss to either cheek before he pulled her hips up. No more teasing. They were both at the end of their patience. With little warning, he positioned himself at her weeping hole and entered her in one swift thrust. She cried out at the intrusion and he lost his breath at her velvet tightness. He wasn't going to last long if she kept gripping him this titillatingly.

Georgiana's breath shuddered and groaned as she wiggled and attempted to adjust to his girth. He was much bigger than his fingers. Painfully so.

He pressed his head between her shoulder blades and groaned with every twitch and shift of her stretched muscles. His fingers left bruising marks in her hips before he withdrew and slammed into her again. She choked on a cry, lost somewhere in the realm between pain and pleasure as he set a punishing pace. It wasn't until he brushed against something that made her see stars that she found the strength to meet his thrusts with her own. It felt so good... so much better than his fingers.

It didn't take long before she felt that beautifully exquisite pressure again, building and swelling around his cock. However, this time she felt a heat tremble from the tip of her toes to burn through her legs to her core. It was almost unbearable.

Sensing she was near her end, Charles slid a hand further over her hip and to her swollen nub. His rough fingers pinched lightly at that sensitive organ and the resultant eruption was magnificent.

Georgiana cried out, her legs locking against his as she stiffened and trembled. It was too much and she pressed her face into the mattress as she spasmed around his cock, sobbing her release.

Charles moaned as she clenched tightly, her walls attempting to milk him of his seed. His hips stuttered in an irregular rhythm before he spilled into her. For a few moments more he continued to undulate against her, reveling in everything she gave him before his strength began to wane. With a heavy breath, he collapsed next to her and slowly drew her into his arms.

Their coupling had been intense...more than he expected. Her sobs had turned to quiet sniffles as she fought to regain control. Charles pressed a comforting hand to her back as he shushed her, "You're alright. You were so good, darling."

Georgiana clung to him. She wanted to ask if it was always like that but didn't want to betray the fact that she had just handed him the only thing that made her valuable in the world. Her virginity was gone and she couldn't find it in herself to regret it. Somehow, she doubted her wedding night would be this good. She took a few steadying breaths, allowing herself to take the comfort that Charles was offering. His soothing touches and whispered praises were doing much to settle her.

Slowly, the late hour began to dawn on her and she realized she needed to get back to her chambers before her father realized she was missing. Gingerly, she sat up, cringing as sticky seed and blood slid down her thighs. The pain to her bottom was secondary.

Charles frowned as he watched her, "Where are you going?"

Georgiana smiled faintly, "I need to leave before I'm missed."

She leaned back down and stole a last kiss before she stood on shaky feet and quickly donned her chemise and petticoat. Charles sat up and snatched her hand before she could get much further in her escape, "Stay. I hardly doubt a few more hours will matter."

"I'm not foolish enough to risk it." She countered, gently shaking him off and gathered the rest of her clothes. She could put everything else on in the hall. If she stayed then she would simply end up in his bed for the rest of the night.

Georgiana made it to the door before Charles spoke again, "Lady Charlotte, I believe you made me a promise if I was good."

She paused and eyed the smug glint in his eye and the arrogant smile painting his lips. The pride she had swallowed earlier reared its head again, "Bold of you to assume you were good, sir."

Instead of bringing him down a peg, his smile grew as he cocked a brow at her, "Charlotte, do I need to warm your lovely arse again?"

She blushed darkly at the reminder of their actions and even worse felt her walls clench in anticipation. At his chuckle, she sharply turned to the door again. Without giving herself time to think her actions through, she undid the lace of her mask and threw it back towards his bed before bolting out the door. He never had a chance to see her face.

It was only as he reached to grab the memento, that he noticed the blood. He stiffened and drew his fingers over the wet spot. He hadn't thought he had been that rough and she hadn't mentioned any undo pain to him. It was only as he replayed their affair that he remembered her tentativeness in touching him initially, the curiosity that had burned in her gaze... all that he had taken as an act of well-played coyness. Gods, it hadn't been an act. She had been truly innocent.

He quickly scampered for his trousers and leapt for the door, concern, and sudden possessiveness rearing within him. He wanted no one else to see her as he had or touch her. Odd considering, he wasn't even fully sure what she looked like, but it was too late... she was already gone.

Next Chapter

#charles brandon #charles brandon fanfiction #charles brandon fic #fanfic #fanfiction #smut #duke of suffolk #anthony knivert #henry cavill #tudors fanfiction #tudors fanfic #the tudors #The Wiles of Men and Women

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meridiansdominoes · 4 years

Text

Showers of Starlight

Incoming blyla incoming blyla incoming blyla

This issssss the sequel to ‘Catch the Rain’ that was posted a few weeks ago! @thatfunkyopossum HAPPY BIRTHDAY UR MY FAVORITE <3

(this is like, 6k words?? Is that okay to post in this weird tumblr format?? It’s gonna be mad long... well idk,,, but here it is anyway on ao3 too in case you don’t want to destroy ur dash with a long post heh

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24758554

Aayla finds her Commander standing out on the little balcony, dressed in civilian clothes and staring out into the city. Night turns Coruscant into an endless sea of luminescence. Air lanes become lines of shooting stars pressing onward in the darkness. Skyscrapers around them glow with the light of thousands of residents inside, creating trails of brilliance that ascend up towards the black sky.

By the time Aayla arrives at the complex that serves as the temporary housing for her officers while they’re on leave, the sun has disappeared from the sky, and she’s mentally exhausted. A full report to the Jedi Council takes effort and energy that she has to fight to produce, but she is required to give her debriefing before she can get some rest herself. She’s relieved that it’s over now, but there are still a few things to take care of. Her men need to be fully settled, otherwise Aayla won’t be able to sleep well tonight. She knows that Bly will take care of things, but she needs to verify their wellbeing for herself for her own peace of mind. Here on Coruscant they’re finally safe, and she has to remind herself of that somehow.

Though visiting Bly to check on the men isn’t necessarily a bad thing. If anything the thought makes some of her exhaustion leave her as she steps into the lift that will take her up to her Commander’s quarters. The journey upwards is smooth and quick. When the doors open on the correct floor, Aayla steps out and immediately finds one of her officers in the hallway, clad only in his blacks.

“General!” Captain Brine says in surprise, blue eyes widening. He snaps off a quick salute automatically. The effect is dampened slightly by the pillow he has tucked under his other arm. “What are you—oh. Looking for the Commander?”

Aayla nods. “Are you well, Captain?”

Brine shrugs.

“Well enough, sir. It’s a bit odd to not be on the ship, but the rooms are nice. Though the pillows leave a lot to be desired. I had to go find myself a new one.”

Aayla huffs out a tiny laugh.

“I’ll take your word for it, Brine. Could you direct me to Bly’s room?”

“The last one on the left, sir,” Brine answers without hesitation. He meets her gaze carefully, something unreadable flashing across his face. “He’ll try to keep working instead of getting some rest like he should. Maybe you can help him where I can’t.”

Aayla blinks at her Captain, but before she can fully make sense of the words Brine is already retreating towards his own room. He closes his door behind him, leaving Aayla alone in the hallway. She sighs and makes her way to the end of the hall until she stands in front of the very last door on the left.

It isn’t locked. The door slides open when she knocks lightly on the durasteel. She steps inside. The rooms that Brine had described as ‘nice’ are small and spartan in design. Nice is not the word Aayla would have used, but they’re a step up from the barracks to her men. There are three tiny spaces all hooked together—a small reception area, a tiny unused kitchen, and an even tinier bedroom. Aayla can see through the entire apartment.

Bly is nowhere in sight, although his armor is neatly stacked on the table in the little kitchen. Aayla hesitates for a moment, confused, until she notices the transperisteel door flung open against the far wall. Cream colored floor-length curtains hide the actual doorway from view. She makes her way through the apartment and pushes the curtains aside.

Coruscant is far too polluted for its inhabitants to see the stars that stretch above them through the smog. For some residents, the brilliant night is the closest they will ever get to seeing space around them. It is beautiful, in its own way. From the balcony of Bly’s window it seems as if he is poised on the edge of a glittering nebula, watching the colors swirl in hypnotic patterns and glitter quietly in the dark.

Bly is framed by the ambient light of the city. Aayla allows herself to just watch him for a nanosecond. She can’t see his face, but the light plays off of his tan skin in such a flattering way that she can’t avert her gaze. There’s a datapad in one of his hands. She raps lightly on the wall to alert him to her presence. He turns a little too fast, free hand jerking down to his side for a weapon that isn’t there right now. Once he’s seen her, he stiffens a little bit into a loose attention. One eyebrow raises slowly.

“General?”

Aayla doesn’t respond immediately, mostly because her brain stalls as she finally takes full stock of what he’s wearing.

He’s dressed in a loose white shirt with a low neckline that reveals his collarbone and the hint of a gold tattoo over his chest that disappears under the fabric. Her eyes pause on the smooth skin of his neck before she forces herself to drop her gaze—but that just makes things worse, because without the usual armor smoothing out the lines of his body she can see every muscle in his arms. His biceps are... impressive. She spends a moment just... drinking it in, because who knows if she’ll ever get to see this ever again. The tight black pants completing his outfit certainly don’t help her concentration.

Bly coughs suddenly. She glances back up to look him in the eyes. Now that she’s already thinking about such details, it’s hard to stop. The splashes of gold against the slant of his cheekbones is distinctly alluring. Aayla struggles to pull her thoughts out of the downward spiral and grimaces inwardly. She’s left him standing there for a heartbeat longer than necessary. She quirks one lek in a hasty greeting.

“At ease, Commander. I just wanted to ask you if the last of the reports have come in yet.” Aayla steps out onto the balcony to join him. She does, in fact, have the self-control necessary to keep her gaze from roving across his exposed skin this time, as tempting as it is.

Bly’s body language loosens. He leans against the railing again and taps at his datapad, scrolling through a list of reports. She can see tiny pinpricks of light reflected from the city skyline in his eyes. Aayla settles herself against the railing next to him as well, content to wait as he runs through his mental checklists.

She reaches out with the Force and grounds herself against his presence. It’s always bright and soothing and mellow to her in a way that she’s never felt before, not even among Jedi. She’s drawn to it. Today his mind is smooth, pulsing gently with peace and relief to finally be on leave. It’s rare that she gets to feel him in that state of mind. Bly is always concerned about something—about the men, about a campaign, about hyperspace routes, about shipping documents… about her.

Perhaps he thinks he is subtle, but Aayla sees far more than he realizes.

She notices when his gaze lingers on her, when he hesitates with his mouth hanging open as if he wants to speak before closing it and marching stiffly away. She notices when he bristles with anger and places himself between her and the foolish males that do not see the lightsaber in favor of inspecting her curves. She notices the fleeting smiles that cross his face when he thinks that she isn’t looking.

She wonders if he’s ever noticed the similar expressions that cross her own face.

There has been an odd tension in the Force lately. It’s a steady buzz, just present enough to nag at her as if ordering her to pay attention to something. It doubles whenever she speaks with her commander. Aayla thinks that she understands why now. Perhaps. Tonight is as good a night as any to either confirm or dispute her theory… if she is brave enough. If she is wise about how she approaches the subject.

It’s a risk, but it’s one that she’s willing to take. Determination floods her veins.

Bly sighs and looks up from the datapad with a nod of approval.

“I’ve got every report, sir. We’re good to go. I’ve even got the ship’s maintenance schedule here.” He grins wryly. “If only it were like this every time. The crew have sent all the records to me quicker than usual so that they can be off duty faster.”

Aayla chuckles.

“It would spare you a large amount of stress, at the very least,” she comments in amusement. Bly rolls his eyes.

“Force forbid,” he mutters. There’s something so easy about standing next to him, about the civilian clothing, about the casual conversation. Aayla feels a strange pang of jealousy. How easy would all of this be if they weren’t soldiers, if she were not a Jedi? She’s never doubted her purpose before, but Bly is the catalyst for many such thoughts.

Bly lifts his free hand to rub at his face. She glimpses a line of gold curling up his arm, disappearing into his sleeve. She reaches out to touch it without even thinking, brushing her fingers along the line and marvelling at how his something that should feel metallic and cold under her hand is warm and soft instead. She traces the tattoo higher, stopping just before she reaches the barrier of his sleeve. Part of her wants to follow it further. The thought abruptly makes her mouth go dry.

“It suits you,” Aayla tells him honestly. He freezes up. For an instant, she feels muscles bunching under his skin. She pulls her hand away quickly, afraid that she’s crossed a line, and reaches out with the Force to check if she’s offended him in any way. Perhaps the tattoo is in memory of a lost brother, or a hard battle that he hadn’t wanted to remember right now—

When she brushes Bly’s mind she finds it full of static. His thoughts are racing almost too fast for her to make sense of them. After a moment he seizes them and wrestles them into submission. He swallows once and nods at her politely.

“Thank you, sir,” he says. Calm, controlled. If she hadn’t glimpsed his thoughts she wouldn’t have known any better. But she does know, and the realization makes amusement and perhaps a hint of mischief course through her. If this is how he reacts to a simple compliment, she can’t imagine how he would be if she were to—

Force. Enough of that.

“Have the men gotten settled?” she asks quietly, retreating away from his mind for the time being. He straightens at the question, shoulders drawing back.

“Yes, sir. They’re alright.” Then he winces. “They’re… excited. We haven’t gotten a good amount of leave in a while. I was thinking of drafting an apology letter to Fox tonight, just in case.”

Aayla laughs.

“They deserve to have their fun,” she comments, leaning against the railing and staring out at the skyline in front of them. “We’ve had a busy few months.”

Bly drags in a deep breath and exhales slowly.

“Yeah,” he agrees quietly. “They were getting tired. This will be good for them.”

“And for us,” Aayla adds. He hesitates, unsure of how to respond. She takes the opportunity to lean over him and pluck the datapad from his hand. A protest rises on his lips, but she shoots him a look, and he bites his tongue. “You deserve rest just as much as the rest of your men do, Commander.”

He nods in reluctant agreement, resting one elbow against the railing and slumping a little. He isn’t completely relaxed, but it’s more than he had been a few moments ago. Improvement.

Silence settles over them. It isn’t uncomfortable—on the contrary, it’s peaceful. A light breeze stirs through the air. Aayla glances up at her Commander, squaring her shoulders a bit. There is an opportunity here, a chance to act. She takes it.

“What would you like to do after the war, Bly?”

He blinks at her, taken aback. To be fair, she’s never asked him something like this before. During the heat and smoke and fire of a campaign she’d never felt as if it were an appropriate question to solicit. She watches him consider it. He glances down, picking at the loose white shirt as if suddenly unsure of himself.

“I’m not sure, sir,” he answers slowly. “I was created to be a soldier. I can’t really imagine myself doing anything else with my life. What… what would you like to do?”

Aayla hums.

“I suppose I will continue to be a Jedi. Though it will undoubtedly be strange. We’ve taken the roles of Generals so easily. Many will struggle to leave it behind.”

His expression flickers as something unreadable passes across his face.

“Will you?”

She falters.

Aayla will struggle. She already knows that, as surely as she knows that the sun will rise in the morning. Perhaps a few years ago that would have concerned her, but today she accepts it and wonders, not for the first time, if she even will want to leave it behind. Not for the power, not for the thrill of command, but for the men. For Bly.

The Council would be appalled to hear that. Quinlan Vos would be thrilled.

“I will not leave my men behind, even if the title of General is removed from me,” she tells Bly firmly. It’s so easy to be honest with him. It’s part of the reason why they work so well together. She sees something in Bly ease a little at her words.

“That’s good, sir,” he says. Without warning he tenses again, taking a shallow breath. “I don’t necessarily know what I want to do after the war, but I do know that it wouldn’t be worth my time if you weren’t there as well.”

Her heart stutters in her chest. He turns his face back to the skyline, as if immediately berating himself for the comment. Aayla resists the urge to reach out with the Force and find the true meaning of those words, to understand everything left unspoken there.

“In that case, I would welcome your company,” she responds quietly. Bly shifts his weight just a little. Some of the strain eases from his shoulders at her acceptance. His words hadn’t been an offer, not exactly, but it had been a bold statement—especially for Bly, who understands his priorities and selflessly resists the feelings that he so clearly wants to act upon. Aayla senses conflict in him, a constant battle between remaining stoic and throwing all caution to the wind.

It would be a lie to say that she did not feel the same thing.

There is a chain of command. There is a Jedi Code. There are rules, both dictated and not, that must be followed. In all her life she has never found herself wishing that it were not so until now.

Bly pulls away from the railing of the balcony, taking a step back. His tattoos gleam like liquid gold across his arms as he moves into a different light.

“I… I’ll get some rest then, General. You should too,” he suggests carefully. Too carefully. She is consistently impressed by his restraint. If it weren’t for his careful self-control she would have fallen a long time ago, but he balances her out perfectly in that as well as everything else. She doesn’t want him to leave yet.

She catches his arm as he tries to turn away with her own hand. Both of them freeze. Aayla looks down at her hand and is suddenly fascinated by the way the blue of her skin contrasts with the warm brown of his.

“Bly. Stay with me?”

She doesn’t have much right to ask that of him. It’s his room, after all. But Aayla doesn’t imagine the little tremor that runs through his body as he pulls his arm away. She lifts her head to meet his gaze and is stunned by the storm of conflict in his eyes.

“General… I don’t think…”

“Stay,” Aayla repeats softly. She ever-so-gently brushes at the edge of his mind again to make sure she isn’t pressuring him. She won’t force him into something he genuinely doesn’t want to do.

Bly’s mind is always so welcoming to her. She doesn’t even think that he’s aware of how readily it opens to her, of how easily it shares its secrets with her. For that reason she chooses to keep her distance for the most part, because she refuses to take advantage of him in that way. If she must reach for his thoughts, she keeps the connection as shallow as possible.

On occasions she’s seen his mind flare brilliantly when she’s nearby until he stuffs the light away under a grey shield of professionalism. She catches glimpses of it when he’s not being careful—when they’ve won a campaign and the men are celebrating in a fever, adrenaline and relief and the thrill of success spinning through the air. When she tells him that her recklessness had indeed been part of the plan and he only responds with an eye-roll and a fond chuckle. When he changes an entire battle strategy because she makes a single offhand comment about how she’s worried about destroying a beautiful forest.

Never once has she felt his mind grow heavy and dark with the sick lust that so many other men succumb to when she approaches. When desire does escape from the deeper recesses of Bly’s mind it is only visible for an instant as a bright flash of heat before he shuts it down without mercy. His respect for her is tangible even without a glance at his thoughts.

Right now, his mind is hesitant. She can sense that he wants to stay, but he is afraid as well. He’s worried for what he might do if he does remain, for what she might think, for what the men might say.

If only he could see into her mind. Aayla thinks a bit wryly that he wouldn’t be as afraid if he could feel her own thoughts on the matter.

“I would like it if you stayed,” she reiterates, just so that he understands that this isn’t an order, isn’t something that he’s required to accept. “Though you are welcome to get some rest if you wish.”

It’s a dangerous game that they’re playing. The attraction, the want, is mutual, otherwise it wouldn’t be as potent as it is. Aayla is tired of ignoring the bantha in the room. War takes and razes and tears down everything in its path. For once she wants to take something for herself.

Bly clenches his jaw and nods once.

“I’ll stay,” he acquiesces quietly. In the distance, faint police sirens become audible. Aayla can’t help a tiny smirk at the way Bly’s expression turns pained.

“There are millions of life-forms living nearby, Bly, I’m sure the men are fine. They probably don’t have anything to do with it,” she teases. He rolls his eyes.

“If I don’t get some sort of complaint in the morning I’ll be extremely surprised,” he grumbles. The grumpy amusement on his face is so utterly endearing that she steps forward without even thinking about it.

“Bly…”

His name comes out of her mouth with more warmth than she’d intended. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

“Aayla.”

She shivers. Her name rolls off of his tongue in the most delightful way. She draws a little closer to him, just enough to be intruding in his personal space. When he finally opens his eyes to look at her again she can see his defenses crashing down, crumbling as she reaches out to trace her fingers along the gold across his cheek.

He swallows hard as if bracing himself and reaches out a hand. His fingers brush against one of her lekku tentatively. She makes a soft noise of encouragement, and his touch grows a little more firm, sliding up to rest just at the junction of her skull. Aayla sighs. She leans forward and rests her forehead against his.

That makes him pause. His eyes go wide, as if he’s only just realizing what he’s doing. He jerks away from her so fast that she briefly loses her balance. The absence of his touch, as fleeting as it had been, makes her chest ache.

“Aayla, I—General. General, Force, this isn’t—I can’t. You have your—the Code, and the regs—”

Aayla exhales.

“And what if I wanted to choose, just for a moment, that they did not exist, Commander?” she asks him. “The time for hesitation is over. I will not sit in silence and wait until the war takes even you from me.”

Bly’s expression contorts. The edges of his Force presence go jagged.

“It isn’t that simple,” he forces out. “We could pretend all we want, but that wouldn’t change the rules.”

“Some would say that the rules are outdated,” Aayla counters. She feels a sharp flash of frustration. It’s tempting to let it stew and grow, but she does her best to let it go.

“That doesn’t matter, sir. We couldn’t ever… if anyone ever noticed, you would be stripped of both your rank and your title as a Jedi Master. I won’t be responsible for that.”

She mulls over his determined words with a sad fondness. He would give up everything he ever wanted just to keep her safe.

“Fortunately, you are not responsible for that,” she replies smoothly. “I am quite capable of making my own decisions. If I were to be expelled from the Jedi Order it would be because I chose that path.”

He stares her down, horrified. Then he narrows his eyes and sets his jaw.

“I would rather have you with me—with us, with the battalion—as a General and nothing more, than not have you at all.”

Aayla’s frustration comes back, stronger this time. She frowns at him.

“As I told you before, I will not leave my men behind, even if the title of General is removed from me. Nor will I leave my men behind if the title of Jedi is stripped from me. This is a risk that I am willing to take.”

Bly grimaces and tips his head back, sighing at the sky.

“Sir, regardless, I’m not—I’m not worth that risk. I’m a clone. This isn’t just inappropriate, it’s unfair to you, and I can’t—”

“That is not what I believe,” Aayla interrupts sharply. She feels just a jolt of anger, of outrage that he’s been conditioned to think like that. The emotion is difficult to banish. “You are worth far more to me than you could ever realize.”

He twitches and looks away fast. The rise and fall of his chest comes quicker now. His mind undulates with uncertainty and fear. The uncertainty is understandable, but the fear—that, she doesn’t understand. She steps close to him again and watches him tense, glancing at her as if worried of what she’ll do.

“What are you afraid of?” she asks in genuine surprise. She is just as new to this as he is, after all, and she wants answers. Bly lets out a stuttering breath.

“I don’t know,” he rasps. The words ring with honesty. An idea flits on the edge of Aayla’s mind. She reaches up to touch his temple. Despite everything, he leans into the touch.

“Let me see,” she requests. For a long moment, he doesn’t say anything, just stares into her eyes. Ever so slowly, he dips his head in a small nod. Aayla closes her eyes.

When she reaches for his mind, his thoughts all but pull her inside. In an instant she’s deeper into his psyche than she’d originally meant to go. All of his emotions roll over her like a wave. She tries to pull away from them, but it’s too late, and she gets thrown into a whirlwind of sensation—

It’s overwhelming. The first thing to hit her is a tide of devotion so fierce that it feels like a firestorm against her own mind. A distinct longing is next, waxing and waning in strength as he struggles to keep it in check. Then there is a devastating clash of loyalty and restraint and desire and helplessness that makes her head spin.

In the center of it all, she sees herself.

It isn’t what she expects at all; isn’t even close to how she imagines herself in her own mind. She stands against an infinite stretch of darkness, lighting the way with her lightsaber outstretched as a brilliant blue beacon. She can sense Bly’s instinctual inclination to follow regardless of where she will lead—even if it means death, even if it means something worse. Through Bly’s eyes she is glorious and powerful and ethereal. Except then there is a sharp contrast, because she fights with all the vigor of a warrior but then she turns to look at him and everything goes soft and suddenly he is overcome by admiration and fondness and a hesitant, tentative love—

Aayla reels back. She struggles to stay above the sea of affection and desire and passion that follows after her doggedly, as if it can’t continue to exist without showing her everything now that she’s stumbled across it. She is jolted to reality. Both of her hands are curled tenderly around Bly’s skull. His eyes are squeezed shut.

She trails her gaze over his face. Aayla is flustered and panting. She had known that he feels something for her, but she’d never realized to what extent. His self-control is even more impressive now that she’s caught a glimpse of what he truly thinks.

“Bly—you—?”

He blinks his eyes open and immediately lowers them in shame.

That won’t do at all. Determination swells in her heart along with a strange sensation of desperation, because she’d known, but she’d never truly understood. He’d kept the full extent of his feelings carefully locked away, and when parts of it had escaped they had only implied a mere fraction of what was really going on inside his head.

She wants—needs—him to understand that it goes both ways.

When she enters his mind again, she lets Bly’s emotions wash around her instead of hitting her full force. She sinks deep, catching glimpses of memories and snippets of sound—

A battlefield shouldn’t be alluring, but with fire swirling around her and sparks drifting past them, she’s more glorious than anything else he could ever imagine.

He wishes that he could express the sensation that he feels whenever she looks at him like that, how his heart seems to swell three sizes and continue expanding until it’s all but bursting out of his chest.

Blue. Blue. Blue. He can’t get the color out of his head, can’t stop his eyes from trailing over her skin and noting all of her visible scars, can’t focus right even though he knows that he needs to concentrate.

She makes a bad call. Not even the best Generals are without fault. Brothers die. For all that he admires her she is still flawed, but somehow that doesn’t detract from how badly he wants her, from how much he cares. She is imperfect and scarred but he loves her all the more for it, for how she fights to become better with every breath she takes.

It’s raining. She looks happy. She looks at peace. Her eyes are bright. She’s beautiful. He wants to reach out and touch her. He aches because he can’t.

Nothing will ever come out of his feelings but he will content himself with the fleeting sensations of joy he finds when she presses her spine to his in the middle of a battle and fights with absolute certainty that he’ll be there to guard her back.

Jedi aren’t immortal and that has never been more obvious now. She is sick and miserable and tired. He convinces her to leave the bridge under his command for the day and go get some rest. When he drops by her room to update her on the Separatist’s movements she is sprawled out on her bunk, mouth hanging open and drooling. It is possible the most unflattering view of her that he’s ever seen. He hardly cares. He sits next to her anyway, a grin springing to his lips as she stirs and blinks up at him, surprised at his presence. There’s nowhere else that he’d rather be.

He hadn’t been created to love. Sometimes he wishes that he had been.

There. Hidden in that thought Aayla finds hints of darkness. She catches a hold of the trail of insecurity she had originally intended to follow and chases after it.

Chain of command aside, Jedi code aside, anything he feels for her is foolish. Bly is not unique, not special despite his rank. Even if there were no restrictions he has millions of brothers who all look the same, so why would she pay any attention to him at all?

He is Kaminoan property. There is no place for love in his purpose. He barely even understands the concept even though he knows the word. He couldn’t possibly offer her what she wants, isn’t worthy to even try. He’s just a clone, nothing more.

It hurts her to feel how deeply those thoughts are woven into his mind. She tugs at them carefully and feels him lurch. Somewhere in the real world she feels hands clutching at her shoulders, but she can’t focus on that right now.

She won’t be able to replace the thoughts, can’t destroy them as much as she would like to. Instead she presses her own thoughts over his, carefully so that he can sense every detail.

Gold is enthralling to her now. Her eyes get stuck on it automatically. She can only think of armor and tattoos and eyes and tan skin—and a steady presence beside her that she wouldn’t trade for the galaxy.

They are alone and desperate and fighting. Aayla pushes herself to move faster, to fight harder, to continue even though her limbs are shaking because she won’t let him die, not today. It would hurt more than anything to replace a battalion but it would tear her into pieces and leave her incapacitated to lose Bly.

It’s raining. She coaxes him to step into the open and tilt his head upwards. His Force presence goes still and calm as he stares up into the clouds above them. Raindrops settle in his hair like tiny glass orbs and scatter across the tattoos on his cheeks. She wants to reach out, she wants, she wants. She senses that he does too, but then he pulls away and she marvels at his control even though her chest contracts in disappointment.

He stands against a hailfire of blaster bolts, unshaken, grounding her along with the rest of his brothers, pistols blazing. She draws strength from his courage and pushes forward. She trusts him with her life. She knows with unshakable certainty that Bly will have her back.

It’s late. The hangar is empty except for them, seated on top of a LAAT with the hangar bay doors thrown wide open to show wide-open space above them. When she turns her head over to look at Bly she sees a wide-eyed awe on his face. He marvels at how different the stars look from here than on Kamino. His joy is tangible. Aayla only has eyes for him. She feels warm and happy and light in a way that she’s never felt before.

He smiles at her fondly and she feels faint suddenly, as if the single breathtaking, handsome, devoted expression is enough to stop her heart.

Love is dangerous because she is a Jedi. But she looks at him and decides that she doesn’t care.

Aayla lets him feel and see and understand every inch of her yearning, every ounce of her awe. His entire mind quakes under her touch. She feels the knot of darkness shiver and unravel a bit. She can’t get rid of it just yet. That will take time. She dares to hope that she’ll get the chance to try soon.

She comes back to herself. Bly’s hands are trembling on her shoulders. When she makes a soft noise of concern he wrenches them off of her and presses his fists against his sides.

“Aayla,” he groans, and he sounds absolutely wrecked. Like he’s seconds from falling apart. His eyes are bright and wide. They’re practically glowing in the dim lighting.

“I want you,” she tells him firmly, forcing every bit of blunt honesty into her voice as she can. She brushes her thumbs across his cheekbones and then lets her hands drop. “This is worth the risk to me, Bly. But it is up to you.”

She puts the choice in his hands and half expects him to turn away, to mull over everything he’s felt, to hesitate again.

He does not.

Instead, he makes a strangled sound, leans in, and presses his lips to hers.

It’s the last thing she’s expecting. She nearly stumbles as a result. His panic spikes into the Force until she grabs his shoulders and kisses him back.

The Force surges in a flare of heat and electricity around them. Bly exhales shakily against her. The brush of their lips is light and tentative. Aayla gathers herself, curling her fingers into the fabric of his shirt and deepening the kiss. Their mouths slant together. One of Bly’s hands finds her lekku again and strokes it gently. Her knees go weak underneath her at the pleasant sensation, at the feel of his mouth against hers.

When they break apart, Bly is gasping like he’s dying and can hardly believe his own audacity. Aayla feels heat crawling up her neck. She can’t stop panting either, and she doesn’t know what to do with her hands.

She’d hoped to get this far, to help him see that he’s worth it, that this is a risk that she’s willing to take, but she hadn’t expected any of that. This is unfamiliar to both of them.

“I—I didn’t—I—” Bly stammers out, and Aayla just blinks at him, because she isn’t doing much better.

Neither of them say anything for a long moment. Aayla can’t tear her gaze away from his face. He’s still so afraid, but she can see his mind weighing all of the options, struggling to make a final decision.

The pinprick of cold on her forearm makes her jerk. It’s followed by another on her lek, and then another on her forehead.

It’s raining.

Bly sucks in a sharp breath.

It rains once in a blue moon on Coruscant. It isn’t unheard of, but it isn’t common either. Aayla remembers a memory from a forest planet months ago, etched into both of their minds with striking clarity and sentiment. Slowly, Bly tilts his head back until he’s looking up into the sky.

She had shown him that. It sends a thrill down her spine to watch him remember, to feel his Force presence go from raging indecision to solidifying into careful determination.

The raindrops are growing bigger. She can hear them clattering against the balcony around her. A droplet splatters against her nose. She reaches out to brush the water away and goes still when Bly reaches for her hand, threading their fingers together as if he’s afraid that she’s going to change her mind.

“It’s worth the risk,” he whispers, like a prayer. She smiles at him. After a heartbeat, he returns it. “I want... I want you too.”

His words make Aayla feel giddy, like she’s soaring, light as a feather and free as the wind. The rain comes down around them. It would only take a few steps to enter the room and dry off but neither of them move.

She wants to kiss him again. The relief and elation she feels as she realizes that she actually can now is heady. His lips are still parted ever so slightly. When she leans in again, he meets her halfway.

It doesn’t matter that they’re going to get drenched. It doesn’t matter that there’s a chain of command or a Jedi code. It doesn’t matter that there’s a war going on and sometimes it’s safer to not get attached.

She focuses on Bly and finds peace in the rhythm of the rain. It’s worth the risk.

#fanfic #blyla #clone wars #Aayla Secura #commander bly #oh i'm so weak for them #wow jaymes congrats i'm addicted and it's your fault XD #writing

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percimmonhellyeah · 4 years

Text

A New Friend - Logince Vore

Roman, the ruler of a noble elf kingdom, is injured, though a certain human is curious enough to take him back to their lab and help him.

Ship: Pred!Logan x Prey!Elf!Roman

Word Count: 3.1k

a/n: This was a request from @indecisive-loser on tumblr! He made this beautiful drawing of one of my other fics here and thought I’d make something back!

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A cool summer’s breeze passed by, making the tree’s leaves rustle in the distance and the tall grass sway. There Logan stood in the grassy field and watched as the sun sunk down behind the earth. He sighed, trying to enjoy the moment before he headed back to his lab. He’d been studying the plant-life and wildlife around this field as he heard there was potentially a new species of frog or snake around the area. Discovering a new species would be one of his greatest achievements, of course if he actually found one. He’d been looking for one of these new snakes or frogs but he’s yet to see one. It was a bit discouraging, as he’d been looking in these fields for nearly a year now, but at least the place had plenty of other wildlife to study.

Logan looked over to his lab that hid among the trees in the distance, smiling at it. Another wind blew by, making the grass sway even more and brush at his sides. He took a deep breath in, taking that as his queue to leave the field and go back to his cozy lab, well as cozy as a lab can get. A yawn escaped his mouth as he walked across the field, letting his hands touch the tall grass. He’d been outside since six in the morning now that he thought about it. He glanced down at his wristwatch, checking the time. It was just about to become eight. He hummed realizing he’d been out the entire day, though it was a bit obvious with the tired look on his face. The air started to grow just a bit colder, waking him up a bit more. Soon, he was just at the edge of the forest, and he saw the small dirt pathway that led to his lab. To be honest, he kind of lived there since he spent so much time in it. It was his pride and passion to go there everyday to study the wildlife. Another yawn escaped his mouth as he looked over to the forest. He wanted to venture into the forest today, but something told him not to, at least until now.

As strange as it was for Logan to think this, he did feel some kind of presence nudging him to go deeper into the forest. He glanced over to the sky. The sun hadn’t fully set, and it would still be at least a bit sunny for another hour. Plus, he had a flashlight and a map of the place in case he was to get lost. A warmth flooded in him as he stepped into the forest, looking around. There wasn’t much to see at this time of night, at least from what he’s gathered looking around here countless times now. That was, until a small group of fireflies danced around a particular spot near a tree. The base of the tree had tall grass hiding it. He blinked at the unusual site. The grass was much taller than all the other grass surrounding it, and what was with the fireflies all gathering here? He glanced around again, seeing no other fireflies glowing anywhere else in the forest. With a slow step, he walked over to the tree and kneeled down. His hands reached over to the tall grass, pushing it aside. As soon as all the grass was out of his way, his eyes widened, and his mouth went ajar. It was an elf.

Logan never believed in the fae or magical creatures, but with what was in front of him, it was clear as day that they existed. The light from the fireflies illuminated the tiny elf. As he looked closer, he saw their pointy ears and beautiful brown hair. They wore a white shirt adorned with gold that was slightly ripped and had a small red sash across their body. Their pants were also ripped and worn down. What happened here? He got on his stomach, looking even closer, the fireflies now glowing brighter, and that’s when he saw it. Their back had a massive wound that was covered by the sash. Thankfully, it looked like most of the bleeding had stopped, but they were certainly in critical condition. If he left them out here, who knew what would come hurt them next.

Logan frowned at the site as he dug through one of his pockets. He soon pulled out a small clean rag, and, with a careful hand, he scooped up the tiny elf and stood up. He held them close to his chest and even through the rag, he could feel how cold they were. The sun was soon disappearing from the sky, the field and forest becoming darker and darker. A wind blew past him, making him shiver at the cold. He held the elf closer, trying to block as much of the wind as possible from their tiny frail body. The white light from the lab illuminated the path, making him smile. At least he knew he couldn’t get lost. Once he reached his lab, he entered and went over to his desk, ready to help the elf.

✰✰✰✰✰

Warmth. It was warm when Roman woke up. His eyes fluttered open, and his head spun as he tried to get up. Where was he again? He was out on his daily walk through the forest then he blacked out. His thoughts scrambled to find out what happened until something caught his attention. Something soft and tight was wrapped around his body. He touched his back, his memories becoming clearer as he woke up. Soon, a softness brushed at his leg. Slowly, he sat up, looking down on the fabric he was sitting on. He blinked. Didn’t he pass out on the grass? Finally, he looked up seeing the bars of the small cage he was in and a human right next to it, tinkering with some liquids. His body shook for a second until he took in a deep breath. He had to admit, it was a scary sight to be so close to a human, but he needed to get back to his kingdom soon before everyone thought he was dead!

“Hey!” Roman yelled as he stood up, “Release me, you terrible beast!”

All of a sudden, the ground shook as the human turned to face him. He gulped as he stared right into their eyes.

“Oh, you’re awake,” they started, “Is your wound healing?”

He blinked, startled that they’d even ask such a thing. Humans were monsters! He took another look around. The room was filled with beakers and all types of glass tools. In the distance, there were some mice and other creatures locked in a cage. All of a sudden, his heart sunk as he looked back at the human that seemed to tower above him. He saw their white coat they had on over their black shirt and blue tie. They were a scientist.

“I said release me you beast!” Roman yelled again, trying to sound tough.

“Alright then, though you don’t need to yell.”

Roman backed away from the bars of the cage as the human opened the door. He dashed as soon as it was open until the human’s hand just stayed there, their palm open. He backed away again, wary. He didn’t want to get hurt once more, especially in the hands of a beast.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” the human said, “I’d just like a closer look.”

He looked back at the hand then at the floor, contemplating. Humans were nothing but monsters! Though, if they really intended to hurt him, they could’ve done it when they first found him. He was already unconscious at the time, so it would’ve been the perfect opportunity to kill him! Yet here he was with his back wrapped up and wound cleaned. He looked back up to the hand, making a decision. A deep breath entered his tiny lungs as he stepped closer to the opening of the cage. He shook a bit though soon calmed himself down as they stepped on to the human’s warm enormous hand. As careful as he could, he walked over their fingers and soon sat in the palm of their hands.

Roman grabbed onto one of their giant fingers as they moved their hands closer to their face. Their eyes scanned over his tiny form, making him back up, and eyed them back with suspicion.

“What’s your name? My name is Logan”

Roman blinked, certainly not expecting a human to ask for his name.

“I’m Prince Roman, and I demand to leave! My people need me, or my kingdom will crumble into chaos!”

“You’re royalty? How fascinating…” they said, “How about a deal? I’ll let you go by morning if I can research you.”

Roman put a hand on his chin as his mind swirled with all types of ideas. Should he trust Logan? Should he try to escape? All of a sudden, he started to shiver just a bit from the cold. Even with the warm palms underneath him, it wasn’t enough to warm him up in this big lab he was in. He squeaked when the hands soon cupped him in a bit more. A glance at Logan made his decision clear. As cold as their face was, there was just a hint of genuine concern. He looked back up again, taking in a deep breath.

“Alright, I’ll let you research me if it means I’m protecting my people from you.”

“I don’t intend to hurt you if that’s what you are saying… I was only going to ask questions about your species. Also, what exactly are you?”

From there, Roman ranted on about how marvelous elves were. They were practically humans, though much smaller. He yapped on about his kingdom and of course himself for hours on end, only stopping when Logan asked a specific question. As he continued to talk and talk, his tiny stomach grumbled. He blinked, realizing he hadn’t eaten anything that day. He looked up and he swore there was a faint smile painting Logan’s face.

“Are you hungry? I have some food,” Logan asked.

“Only a bit. I don’t think I’ve ever had human food before.”

Something in Logan suddenly made them smile more and almost look giddier. Their powerful hands brought Roman closer to their chest as they walked over to a cabinet. Soon, they opened it, revealing jars upon jars of some kind of red substance. A small loaf of bread, at least that’s what he thought it was called, laid on the bottom shelf. Logan grabbed the loaf of bread and a jar out of the cabinet, now sitting at a table nearby. He looked at the jar’s contents, never having seen something like it before.

“It’s called jam.”

Roman blinked as Logan spoke. Soon, their hand laid flat on the table, him now taking the hint and climbing off. He hugged himself. It was still a bit cold in the lab, but he’d certainly been in much colder weather. He must’ve been in Logan’s hands too long and got used to their warmth. A clank rang in his ears when Logan opened the jar of jam and spread it on to a small piece of bread, which he assumed was for him. His feet shuffled backward as they handed the piece of bread to him. A deep breath entered his lungs, his legs a bit shaky, though he quickly calmed himself down. With some hesitance, he took the bread and the jam on top and took a small bite. His eyes widened, captured by the flavor.

“This taste marvelous!”

“I know! I’m not one for sweets, but this always puts a smile on my face,” Logan said as they took their own piece of bread and spread some jam on it. Soon, they took a bite, Roman watching as they ate. He looked back down at his own bread and scarfed it down. He didn’t realize just how hungry he was.

“Would you like more?”

Soon, Roman nodded, a big smile forming on his face. He warmed up to the human quite a bit even though they only met that night. Something told him they would keep their word and not hurt his kingdom. Logan took another piece of bread and spread some jam on to it. They put it on a tea plate and slid it over to him. Quickly, he ripped off a piece of bread and munched on it, loving the flavor, and feeling in his mouth. He caught a glimpse of Logan smiling as he continued to eat their jam covered bread.

As Roman kept eating, he felt a warmth on his back followed by a light now casting a shadow down on the table. He turned around to see light filling the window nearby and he soon yawned. Were they both really up the whole night? Another yawn escaped his mouth, covering it with a hand. The bread he ate didn’t help much as it only made him even more tired. All of a sudden, he heard Logan yawn, too. He’d guess they’d been up for quite a while, probably longer than him. He looked back out the window as he touched the cloth that wrapped around his wound. He needed to go back to his kingdom, but his eyes were starting to grow heavy, wanting at least a nap.

“Are you tired?”

Roman just nodded and yawned as if on cue. Logan smiled more offering their hand. He scrambled on to it enjoying the small warmth from them. Soon, he looked up as they moved to a more comfortable plush chair and as they sat, a bit of hesitance and curiosity sprinkled on their face.

“Would you like to sleep in my storage stomach? I doubt the table would do much good.”

“Human’s have storage stomachs?”

“Some do… This should be my final experiment with you, but you don’t have to if you don’t want to, though I assure you it’s completely safe. I’ll let you go right after if you do want to do the experiment.”

Roman looked down with a hand on his chin. He could just be let go now, but he’d risk getting attacked again with how tired he was. But Logan’s offer did sound quite relaxing… He’d never been in a storage stomach before, and it would certainly be a lovely story to tell back home. A deep breath filled his lungs as he looked back up to them.

“Alright, I’ll do it. How shall we uh… start?”

“I’ll open up my mouth so you can crawl in. If anything goes wrong just tell me. I’ll do the rest. Are you ready?”

Logan’s hands moved up closer to their lips. Roman stared in awe at the sight, shaking from the fear and excitement that ran through him.

“Yes…”

Finally, Logan’s mouth opened, and his jaw dropped at how marvelous their mouth looked. Their teeth were nearly a perfect white and their tongue looked as soft as the grass in the fields. As he came closer, a warm breath rolled over him that smelled of mint and jam. Not a scar or scratch lined the inside of their cheeks. The tongue soon rolled over their teeth, waiting for him to crawl in. He took in one more deep breath as he looked around, and soon crawled on to the soft tongue.

A strong warmth hit him as he was pulled inside, feeling even more of their breath wrap him. Carefully, he turned around so he could face the outside of their mouth. The light coming from the lab shone into their mouth, illuminating the entrance of their throat he’d soon be going down. Another breath washed over him, the warmth so inviting. He took one more good look around their mouth before they slowly closed it, darkness now surrounding him.

Soon, the tongue pinned Roman to the roof of Logan’s mouth. A small hum came out from him as their tongue squished his tiny body. The miniscule bumps on the tongue trailed his face. He held on to it, hugging it and cuddling into it. The tongue soon went down as he heard a hum from Logan. His face warmed up, almost matching with the heat that was in their mouth. Thank goodness they couldn’t see him, or he might’ve fainted! He cuddled more and more into the soft slimy flesh and let himself relax. Soon, a squeak escaped his mouth as he felt them start to tilt their head back. For a moment, his heart stopped, an instinctual fear kicking in. He took in a deep breath as he slid down to the entrance of their throat. The tip of their tongue curled over his head, giving him one last lick as he was finally gulped down into their throat.

The throat muscles was quick to massage at Roman’s tiny form, making him hum even more. It was a tad bit tight, but he didn’t mind it much, especially since he hadn’t relaxed this much in quite a while. Running a kingdom was hard work after all. Soon, he was squished even more into the muscles, certain it was Logan pressing their neck. Though soon, the pressure disappeared. A loud heartbeat and deep breathing rang in his ears as he continued to go down, deeper into their core. Finally, his legs squirmed into a much larger place, followed by the rest of him plopping down into their stomach.

Roman’s heart raced, trying to take everything in. To his surprise, there was a small blue glow coming from the mucus that lined their storage stomach, allowing him to see. With a gentle step, he stood up walking around in absolute awe. He pressed a hand into the stomach walls, entranced at his hands sinking into the folds. As soon as he pulled away, his hands started to glow from the mucus that stuck to him.

“Are you alright?” Logan’s booming voice echoed throughout the stomach.

“Yes! I’m alright!”

He continued to look around, exploring. Other than the mucus, there was no stomach acid in sight. He guessed he was right to trust the human. He took in a deep breath as he laid down, letting the warmth lull him to sleep. A yawn escaped his mouth as he snuggled into the folds.

“Hey, Logan?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you for saving me. I’m not sure what I would’ve done without you…”

There was a small silence between both of them until Logan spoke.

“It’s… no problem. Sleep well, Roman…”

And with that, Roman’s eyes closed, relaxing into the walls of his new friend, falling asleep.

#sanders sides vore #tss vore #infinitesimal!sides #extreme cuddling #soft vore #safe vore #pred!logan #prey!roman #sanders sides g/t #g/t sanders sides

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yurtletheturtlehenderson · 4 years

Text

S.T. REWRITE - S2:E9; Chapter Nine, The Gate - [Pt. 6 - FINAL PART]

A Will Byers x Reader Series

The survivors turn up the heat on the monstrous force that's holding Will hostage, and Y/n's powers are put to the ultimate test in the process. Eleven makes plans to finish what she started.

A/n: your snowball outfit is completely up to you since everyone is different. IF you need ideas, I have a pinterest board you can look at if you want. My username is the same as my Tumblr, which is in my description. Also, I was wrong again, THIS is the longest chapter. Happy reading!

We’re finally here!!

Ps: you think this chapter is cute jUST WAIT FOR COSMIC 3 🤭😉☺

||3rd Person POV||

"Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock,"

The light and blithe tune of Bobby Helms' classic, 'Jingle Bell Rock' fills the Hawkins Middle School gym as everyone prepares for the annual Snow Ball. A mix of faculty and volunteers are spread across the gym hanging decorations, including Mr. Clarke who finishes hanging the large banner reading; Hawkins Middle Snow Ball '84.

"Jingle bells chime in jingle bell time,"

The Byers house is once more filled with soft music and laughter, smiles are worn by all. In the time of Will's recovery, everyone had been ecstatic to find his memories promptly returned to him. The dark fog over his brain had been cast away, returning to him all his forgotten memories.

Many new drawings hung on the fridge mixed in with older ones, one, in particular, sat front and center for all to see. None more proud to see it than Joyce who had wrapped her son in a tearful hug upon seeing it. It was a bright and smiling picture of Bob in the classic Superman pose, a bright red cape flying behind him and written boldly beneath were three words; Bob Newby Superhero.

"Yeah, you got it. See?" Joyce says, a big smile evident in her voice.

"Mom!" Will pleas, thoroughly embarrassed.

There's another beat of silence as Joyce dances around the living room with her son, a smirking Jonathan off to the side filming.

"Jingle bell, jingle bell Jingle bell rock,"

The two bounce across the floor as he gets used to the rhythm, short bursts of frustrated muttering under his breath do not go unnoticed by his mother.

"Will, honey," she smirks knowingly when he worriedly meets her eyes. "You're doing fine."

He tries to shake the nerves away, and the rising blush attempting to make an appearance. He tries to take his mind off his anxieties and redirects his attention to his older brother. Jonathan seemed intent on getting every angle, and it only put Will on edge further despite the small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. After all, it wouldn't be Jonathan if he wasn't trying to document everything.

Still, Will quirks a brow, trying to sound as polite as possible.

"Do you always have to be filming everything?" He asks.

"No, no," Jonathan chuckles, peeking out from behind the camera's scope to smirk at his brother. "Just the good stuff."

Will's eyes flicker from their bouncing feet and his hand on his mother's arm, the other in her hers, unsure. All week he had been racked with nerves as the Snow Ball got closer, not to mention how uptight he had felt all of that day.

Will wanted his dance with Y/n to be perfect.

He had decided early on he would ask her to dance, no matter how nervous he got. After she had saved him, things had been... different between them. They were both a bit of a blushy mess, but never said or did anything about it given Will's recovery. Something had already changed between them when he was rescued from the Upside Down. Since she kissed him on the cheek. But again, both of them had been too scared to do anything, or Dustin, Mike, or Lucas would interrupt before something could happen.

But now? The Snow Ball? Everyone had decided to go as a group, so they would meet up there anyway. But Will decided he couldn't hide it much longer, and he had hopeful suspicion she felt a similar way. So he planned on changing everything tonight.

But none of that put any of his nerves at ease.

What if she said no? Or worse, what is she said yes? And then he would be dancing like this with her and no one else would be, and she'd laugh.

"Are you sure people still dance like this?" Will asks finally.

"Yeah," Joyce shrugs, still bouncing them around the room. "It's what's happenin'."

He looks to her expectantly, only to see her smirking at him. Confused, but allowing himself to feel a bit hopeful, he looks to Jonathan past the camera. Unknowingly, his mother keeps her smirk screwed on her face as her eyes follow Will's.

"Is it what's happenin'?"

Jonathan shrugs, going along with the charade. "Yeah, yeah, it's what's happenin'."

Will lets out his arm, allowing his mother to duck and twirl. She unravels in step, spreading out her arms in a big show and a proud smile before returning to her son's arms.

"That was good," she cheers. "That was good, very good."

Will relaxes, nodding to himself and returning his attention to where he steps.

"Hey," she says softly, bringing his head up to look at her. She grins sweetly, her eyebrows shooting up. "You two are gonna have fun, I know it,"

Jonathan can't stop the chuckle before it breaks loose, and hides behind the JVC as Will turns pink.

"Mom!"

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The shutter of Karen Wheeler's polaroid camera hooks sharply into Mike's ears as does the blinding white light of the camera's flash that blinds him. The freshly printed polaroid falls to the ground and she quickly grabs it.

"Oh, wait!" She orders to a stiff and uncomfortable Mike who stands at the end of the stairs in a tie and sweater vest.

"Alright, that's enough," he huffs, hand still on the banister.

"One more, okay?" She pleas. "Just one more."

"Why?"

She grins proudly behind her camera and coos. "You look so handsome."

"Mom!"

"Mike." She retaliates, cheerfully.

The shutter clicks, grabbing another picture of Mike. This time, a pouty and exhausted expression on his face instead of a flat and embarrassed one.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"Hey... wanna dance?"

Lucas shakes his head, hands on his hips as he tries to clear his head. He stands before his mirror, working through his nerves as he practices asking Max to dance. He felt a little silly doing it, but he deemed it necessary it if meant he was more prepared to dance with the girl who made his heart skip a beat.

"We should, you know, get out there, like, do our thing... Stop," he tells himself suddenly.

Even he felt himself growing uncomfortable at that request. But he tried again.

He looks at himself in the mirror, raising a finger and gesturing to his reflection. His mouth opens to say something clever, anything, but nothing comes out.

Okay, he needed to shake this. He was better than this! He smacks his face lightly, rubbing his puffed-out cheeks around trying to wake himself up a little more if possible.

"I love this song," he beams into the mirror with a charming smile. "You?"

Okay, that wasn't bad. That could work! He could feel the confidence swelling up in his chest like a balloon.

And then it popped.

"Yeah, I love it." Came an exaggerated, sickly sweet voice from his doorway. "But not as much as I love you, Lukey."

His face drops when he sees Erica in the mirror behind him, a mischievous grin stretching wide across her face. He whirls around to face her and stomps towards her as she bats her eyelashes, feigning innocence.

"Get out of my room!"

The door slams shut, leaving a giggling and rather pleased Erica out in the hallway.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"Ow, ow. That hurts." Max protests.

Max sits in front of the mirror, her mother behind her as she pins back her long bangs in one thin braid. She smiles at her daughter through the mirror.

"It's gonna be worth it. Promise."

Max catches movement out of the corner of her eye, and she turns her head to see Billy who had come to a stop outside her door when she caught his eye. He looks at her blankly, testing the waters but she has none of it.

"Jingle bell time is a swell time,"

The radio continues it's Christmas melody, like Susan Hargrove, blissfully unaware of the hostile glare Max holds her stepbrother in. The threat of that night still burns behind her eyes, sending him walking.

She returns her attention to the mirror, where her mother finishes fluffing her long red curls and beams down at her.

"See? Pretty."

The word sends Max into a sigh, and she throws her head back with a groan.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"Son of a bitch! Son of a bitch!"

Dustin marches out of his room in a cornflower blue button-up, black suspenders, bowtie, and a frown. He passes his mother who sits in her usual armchair, she is cuddling the family's newest edition; a young kitten she had dubbed Tews. Y/n took quite a disliking to the name, wishing her mother had been less obvious she was trying to replace Mews. Especially since she knew what had really happened to their "missing" cat.

The kitten purrs in delight as Claudia Henderson strokes Tews behind his small ear. She looks over at her son who angrily enters the kitchen, his head of damp curls bouncing near his shoulders.

"Where did you see it last?"

"Right here," he argues, gesturing to the counter. "Where I put it."

"What's in there that's so important anyway?" She asks gently. "You look fabulous, baby."

Dustin's hardened exterior melts, his worry dissolving completely into relief when he spots the brown paper bag hiding away behind a box of 'MeowMix'. He picks it up, testing its weight and he smirks back at his mother.

"Got it,"

Dustin dashes across the living room and back into his bedroom, just missing the sharp and quick ring of the doorbell.

"That's your ride." She perks, eyes darting to the door. "Dusty!"

Dustin unravels the bag on his bed, pulling out the cold tin can of Farrah Fawcett Hairspray, and uncaps it. He glides towards the mirror, taking a deep breath, and starts the first coat.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Soft moonlight spills over the faces of Jim Hopper, El Hopper, and Y/n Henderson as the truck they sit in navigates through the trees and into town. In the time since their defeat of the Mind Flayer, and especially since the latest news of El's adoption, Y/n had been over a handful of times. The only other person having been allowed to the cabin being Mike, each visit carefully planned and spaced out so as to not draw any suspicion.

When the news had been broken to El, she hadn't stopped smiling for weeks. Not only was she finally allowed a normal life, but she was also finally surrounded by people who would love her and nurture her, always. No more uncertainty of where she would end up, or if she were ever allowed to leave. She knew now her freedom was certain.

When she had first broken the news to Y/n, her smile was still screwed to her face as she repeated the word with great excitement.

"Adopted!"

Y/n had erupted into giddy laughter, more than thrilled for her friend. "El, that's fantastic!"

And when Hopper brought home the dress he had picked out - with the welcomed help of Joyce - and told her about the Snow Ball? She was elated. It wasn't long before plans were made with Y/n. And even though Y/n was there to offer her help with getting ready, Hopper couldn't quite pull himself away from offering his own assistance with whatever the girls needed. Whether it be hair, make-up, or simple advice.

He was just happy to have a daughter to worry about again, and she didn't seem to mind.

They now traveled in comfortable silence, the Christmas music on the radio blended with the steady white noise of the engine, and the tires traveling on the road blanketed the silence. El and Y/n sat together in the back seat that had recently been installed, Hopper turning his attention into the radio to give them as much privacy as possible.

El kept her eyes glued on the passing scenery outside her window as she took several deep breaths, her right hand absent-mindedly twirling the braided blue hair tie Hopper had gifted to her around her wrist.

Y/n, recognizing the behavior all too well, smiled timidly at her friend.

"You excited?"

El turned to her friend, trying to ignore the flutter in her stomach at the question. Her smile quickly matched Y/n's.

"Yes,"

She takes another deep breath, forcing her shoulders to relax and slowly they sink back down. El is quick to catch the quirked brow sent her way.

"It's okay to be nervous," Y/n says, drawing El's attention back to her.

El looks at her best friend, studying her. She feels herself relax a bit when she senses Y/n's words are completely genuine. Y/n offers El a soft smile that eases away any remaining tension. As the truck passes a clearing in the trees another ray of moonlight glides across Y/n's face, making El smile to herself.

'Pretty,' she thinks.

"It's completely normal to be nervous for a dance," she continues. "I'm nervous about it, too,"

El nods, thinking about this.

"I think it'll be different once you get there," her next words bring a small blush to El's cheeks. "Once you see Mike, I think it'll all get a bit easier,"

There's another beat of silence as El contemplates her words. Finally, she turns to Y/n, this time being the one to pull her attention away from the window to look at her. Her eyebrows raise in question, a small grin tugging at her lips.

"Same with you?"

Y/n's head tilts subconsciously to the side in question.

"What do you mean?"

"With Will? It'll be better when you see him?"

El grinned when Y/n broke away her gaze in a nervous laugh, her ears, and neck beginning to burn.

The two fell into shushed fits of laughter that would sneak back up on them for the rest of the ride. And as the two sat together, continuously feeding into one another's laughter, a warm thought crossed El's mind.

El wasn't quite used to this mood she was in. The mood Y/n had been bringing out in her lately since things had quieted down. It was a giddy and mischievous, light-hearted banter that always cropped up when she felt most relaxed. But she quite enjoyed it, and the feeling it brought to her chest.

El supposed this was what it felt like to have a sister, that this was what it meant. And she enjoyed it immensely.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Steve's car comes to a gradual halt in front of Hawkins middle, a less than eager Dustin in the passenger seat. He had to say he was quite impressed with the kid's technique, he did okay on the hair in his opinion.

"All right, buddy, here we are."

Dustin's eyes are fixed on the propped open entrance to the school where they were taking tickets and his stomach flutters. He takes a long and shaky deep breath.

"So, remember, once you get in there..."

Dustin looks to his friend and nods, affirmatively. "Pretend like I don't care."

"You don't care,"

"I don't care,"

"There you go," Steve chirps. "You're learning, my friend. You're learning."

Dustin nods as if psyching himself up and he eagerly reaches for the review mirror to check his reflection. Wounded at Dustin's self-doubt, Steve frowns, pulling the boy's hand away from the mirror with a gentle voice.

"Hey,"

"What?"

"Come on. You look great, okay? You look," He says, readjusting the mirror and turning to Dustin, giving him an okay sign. "You look great,"

"Okay? Now you're gonna go in there..."

"Yeah,"

"Look like a million bucks," he continues, matter of factly.

"Yeah!"

"And you're gonna slay 'em dead."

Dustin nods, feeling his excitement - and confidence - build at Steve's reassuring words.

"Like a lion." He adds.

He draws back his lips and rolls his tongue in his signature purr. Steve bites back a wince and says as gently as possible. "Yeah, don't do that, okay?"

"Okay," he nods.

Steve sticks out his left palm in gesture, and Dustin takes it happily giving it a firm shake.

"Good luck."

Dustin nods in thanks and exits the car with a blooming sense of pride. Unknowingly, Steve lingers behind assuring he gets in safely, a proud smile tugging at his lips.

When Dustin enters, he takes one swift deep breath expelling the creeping anxieties. He makes his way to the ticket table that Mr. Clarke manages. The teacher in question looks up from his clipboard and smirks.

"Looking very snazzy tonight, sir."

Dustin nods proudly. "Thank you, m'lord."

Dustin drops his ticket into the bowl as Mr. Clarke jots down his name. Steve watches happily from the car, and without his permission, his eyes drift past the young Henderson boy and through the gym doors windows. He can make out Nancy at the punch bowl near the entrance. Her hair is up in curls and on her face is her usual warm smile as she passes out punch to kids.

He feels a tug at his heart at the sight, wishing more than anything things had gone differently between them. But the words exchanged between that one night, ring in his ears. And yet he does not regret them.

Steve knew as he looked at her now, things had worked out for the best. She seemed truly happy, and in the end, that's all he ever wanted for her. A bittersweet look crosses his features as he silently says goodbye to his first love, and quietly he takes off into the night.

Dustin enters the gym, a new rush of excitement overpowering him as he sees the gym transformed. Curtains of silver, and flowing streamers hung in the center stretching out over the center of the gym in a beautiful canopy. The entrance he walked through was lined with three large balloon archways and several soft twinkle lights dangled from the ceiling and walls like stars. And at the very edge of the canopy, was the large glittery letters that hung before it; 'Snow Ball'.

It was surprisingly breathtaking for a small, middle school dance but it was still appreciated. Another deep breath leaves his chest before he stalks forward to tackle the task at hand; finding the rest of the party amongst the crowd. As he passes the punch table, he sends a smirk and a quick salute to the young woman behind it.

"Hey, Nance,"

"Hey," she smiles back.

As the ladle sinks once more into the punch bowl, collecting the contents for the next cup, a young boy approaches the table.

"What's in this?" He asks curiously.

A wistful smirk flickers across her face as she hands him the filled cup. "Pure fuel."

He stalks off with a curious look into his cup, and Nancy takes a moment to rest her arms against the table. Her eyes travel across the gym at the younger kids having fun, and it reminds her of simpler times. She stops when she sees a group of kids at the photo arch, smiling wide as they pose for a photo. The camera flashes and they wander off as Jonathan prepares the next shot. He feels a pair of eyes on him, and he glances over his shoulder to find Nancy.

The two smile warmly at one another, a small but noticeable spark deep in their chests.

Dustin approaches his friends with a grin and enters with a showy twirl, excited to show off his new do. His heart sinks when he's met with several chuckles. Mike even jumped up from his seat, wide-eyed.

"Holy shit, what happened to you?"

His friends circle around him, each of them failing to fight back a smirk.

"What do you mean, what happened?"

"What?" Mike asks bewildered.

"Dude--" Lucas begins, only to be cut off by Max.

"-Your hair!"

Lucas steps forward with a mischievous smirk, his hand reaching up to prod at his friend's styled hair. "Is there a bird nesting in there?"

Dustin pulls away, throwing Lucas's hand away from his head. His eyes dart back and forth between his four giggling friends and whines.

"No, what do you mean, 'what's wrong'?" He glares at Lucas. "There's no bird nesting in here, asshole. Okay?"

Dustin subconsciously pats his work, assuring not a single hair had gone astray. "I worked hard."

Everyone's attention is pulled to the dance floor at the newest song change. Quickly recognizable as Cyndi Lauper's Time After Time blasts through the gym's speakers, they all watch as kids all across the gym pair up for the first slow dance of the night.

Lucas takes a deep breath and turns excitedly to Max.

"Max..." she turns to see him grinning nervously at her. "Um, it's nice, right?"

He looks around at the room, gesturing to the song. A wide and bemused smile breaks out on her face as he continues to stumble. All the while, a deflated Dustin watches the exchange.

"Um, you wanna like, you know...?" Lucas gestures between himself and Max, a hopeful look on his face. "Like, just... you and me?"

"Are you trying to ask me to dance, stalker?"

His face falls as he begins to panic. "Um, no...? Of course not."

The expression breaks when he notices the great look of amusement on her face, and he perks a bit.

"Unless you want to?"

Max sighs despite her grin, interlocking her hand with his own and she shakes her head.

"So~ smooth," she chides lightly, pulling him onto the dance floor. "Come on,"

The three remaining boys stand awkwardly watching off to the side, a bit unsure of what to do. This feeling only worsens for Will when he hears the dreaded nickname he had been itching to escape since the moment he was tagged.

"Hey, Zombie Boy,"

His eyes are pulled to a girl he recognized from class approaching him. She offers a small smile.

"Wanna dance?"

A pit forms in his stomach at the unexpected obstacle. He was nervous enough building himself up to ask Y/n. Just thinking about seeing her soon sent his heart aflutter in the best way possible, but this was not something he could have possibly anticipated. Or asked for.

He gulps, unexpectedly swallowing a large ball of saliva as he begins to panic. His words come out in a panicked stutter.

"I- Well, I, uh... I'm-"

His eyes dart quickly between Dustin and Mike, silently asking for help but he only finds expectant - and a slightly threatening on Dustin's part - expressions. Dustin elbows him lightly and Will clears his throat, collecting his breath.

"Thanks," he mutters with a polite smile, slowly gathering courage. "But, I'm waiting for someone. Sorry..."

She smiles, nodding. "No worries,"

Her eyes catch a familiar face across the room. She sends one more polite smile at Will and the others before departing towards her friend. The three friends stand rooted to the floor as an awkward silence hangs in the air. Mike looks down at Will, his eyebrows shooting up weakly in a surprised manner.

Upon seeing this, Will scoffs nervously, both of their eyes returning to the entrance as they wait. Unbeknownst to them, Dustin's eyes sweep across the gym at all the new couples, starting with Max and Lucas. He can't deny the pang he felt in his chest, but he also wasn't surprised at the turn of events. It was something he had seen coming for a while.

Instead, he scans the gym and he smiles to himself when he sees his classmate Stacy across the room. She was laughing amongst a group of her friends.

Dustin tugs at his blazer readjusting it and lets out a puff of air grabbing Will and Mike's attention. He turns to them.

"Wish me luck, gentlemen." He nods in the girl's direction with a confident simper. "I'm going in."

Dustin sends his friends a wink and a click of his tongue before marching onto the battlefield. Will and Mike watch taken aback, turning to one another as they share a bemused look.

The closer Dustin grows the more intense his heart beats, but he embraces it, Steve's words still ringing clearly in his ears. When he apparatuses the group and she doesn't seem to notice, he brushes it off at first. She was deep in conversation.

"Stacy?"

Her conversation continues without skipping a beat.

"He just broke up with Jennifer."

Her eyes bug out slightly as she continues, shaking her head a bit in disgust.

"Plus he's, like, not my type." She laughs.

Dustin clears his throat as politely as he can, not wanting to overstep his boundaries.

"Stacy?"

Finally, she breaks away from her conversation, clearly filled with great agitation. Her eyes widen when she spots his hair, not bothering to hide her distaste.

"Yeah?" She spits.

Dustin brushes it off in the moment, clears his throat, and bows his head as he gently extends his right hand out to her. He sends her a warm and charming smile.

"Shall we?"

Her eyes bug out once more, a chuckle leaving her lips.

"Um, no, thanks," she scoffs, voice dripping with sarcasm.

The girls around her burst into fits of laughter, and she joins them. Together, the pack of girls stride off, still overwhelmed with laughter as they begin talking about Dustin. None of them bothered to wait until he was out of earshot.

He watches sullenly as they disappear through the crowd, and he tries his best to stamp down the aching in his chest. He allows himself to perk a bit when he spots two other girls chatting quietly off to the side looking rather bored.

Dustin begins making his way towards them, but it isn't long before he halts in his path. Upon seeing him, they quickly whispered back and forth between one another before promptly scurrying.

He blinks several times, trying to keep the tears that threaten to spill at bay. He looks around the gym, heart sinking completely when he finds everyone in pairs. Everyone except himself.

He was completely alone.

Gifted with a small lull in which there was no punch to serve, Nancy's gaze sweeps the dancefloor. Her jovial composure fades almost instantly when she spots a lost and wounded Dustin planted on the sidelines. His shoulders sag and his lip begins to quiver as he searches the crowd sadly. Not a moment later does he slink off, disappearing behind the curtain of streamers.

The sight is enough to send a crack through her heart.

Dustin sits on the bleachers, his hands tucked into his lap as he invests all his energy into suppressing his sobs. His bottom lip quivered with intensity and a rather large tear he had been holding back finally broke free, gliding down his cheek.

It takes far too long in his taste for him to register the figure approaching is heading for him. Nancy pulls back the streamer curtain and offers him a gentle smile.

"Hey,"

He straightened immediately, swiping furiously at his cheeks as he tries to get rid of the evidence.

"Hey," he sniffles.

"Wanna dance?" She asks, offering her right hand.

He looks up at her in shock, his wide eyes still glassy. "What?"

"Come on," she grabs his hand, pulling him up to his feet and through the veil of streamers. "Let's go,"

He looks around bewildered as he finds himself pulled to the dancefloor. But already he can feel himself perking, and he smiles weakly at Nancy, not exactly knowing what to do now.

As if reading his mind, she smiles, grabbing his hands and gently placing them in her waist. "Here,"

He freezes, still not quite believing what is unfolding. She places her palms on his shoulders and he smiles wistfully. A wide smile plasters Nancy's face when she notes his distance, and she tries to reassure him.

"Closer,"

He stumbles forward a few inches, his eyes on her still wide and moonstruck.

"A little closer," she assures, smirking fully now. "Okay,"

Dustin's chest swells at her kind smile, and already he can feel his confidence returning. Both of them have yet to notice the spiteful glares being sent their way from Stacy and her friends.

"Now feel the music," he head sways gently with the beat. "The rhythm. Start to move to it."

Dustin's feet finally receive his brain's commands, and they begin to shuffle slowly as the dance begins. Nancy nods, eagerly.

"Yeah," she chirps, brightening his grin. "There."

"Good?" He asks hopefully.

She nods.

"That's good. Yeah."

"Okay,"

"You know," she begins. "Out of all my brother's friends, you're my favorite."

His grin stretches from ear to ear, his chest swelling once more in pride.

"You've always been my favorite."

"Really?"

"Yeah," she nods, her own heart-swelling seeing him happy again.

The distant sound of murmuring brings Nancy's attention across the room, where she spots a pack of perturbed girls. One brunette in particular, who stood at the center with a flustered glare fixed on Nancy. Upon being caught, she blinks rapidly trying to brush it off and looks away.

Dustin's eyes follow Nancy's, and that's when she returns her attention back to Dustin.

"Girls this age are," she rolls her eyes quickly. "dumb. But give them a few years, and they'll wise up. And, uh,"

Nancy softens when she notes Dustin is still beaming at her, hanging on her every word.

"you're gonna drive 'em nuts."

"You think so?" He asks hopefully.

She nods, a series expression befell her briefly. "Oh, I know so."

The two fall into a comfortable silence as they enjoy one another's company, and the music that fills their ears and sways their bodies.

Just across the room, still sat glumly at their table as they wait - and hope - are Will and Mike. They look around the room at all the dancing couples, and all they wish for is the sight of the two party members who have yet to show. Other than the occasional word, they sit in silence.

Will is the first to break it with a sigh, and he sits forward in his chair before rising. Mike looks up at him, his attention snapping towards Will as his mind jumps to the worst possible conclusion.

"Everything okay?"

Will nods, forcing a smile through his nerves.

"Yeah, I'm okay. I think I'm gonna freshen up a bit though. Use the bathroom while I can."

Mike nods, less than convinced though he shoves down the thought. He merely watches with a worried frown as Will stalks off towards the back of the gym. He relaxes a bit when he sees how many times Will's eyes fly to the entrance on his way back, and he supposed the jitters were all it really was after all.

Mike sighs, slumping back into his chair and he counts the minutes as they march on.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Joyce watches as her wind carries anther fallen leaf across the pavement, and checks her watch for the thousandth time. Logically she knows the dance is far from over, but she can't bring herself to leave. A familiar gruff, but soft voice pulls her attention up.

"Hey,"

Hopper approached her with a weak smile, hands stuffed into his pockets.

"Thought I might find you here," he says.

Joyce lets out a defeated breath meant to be a laugh, her body leaning against her green Ford Pinto.

"Will wanted me to give him some space, so..." she shrugs, and a small chuckle breaks loose from her chest. "I'm giving him a few feet."

Hopper pulls a pack of cigarettes that had been hiding in his pocket, gives it a small tap and he smirks at the woman.

"What d'ya say?" He opens up the lid, pulling out one of the remaining cigarettes. "I'm pretty sure that Mr. Cooper retired in the seventies, so..."

He stepped forward to join her against the hood of the car, speaking through a smirk as he lit the cigarette that dangled from his lips. "we might be okay."

He takes one long puff of the cigarette, letting the smoke sting his lungs and he passes the stick onto her. She gladly accepts, taking the next puff only to be sent into a coughing fit. They both laugh lightly, and she passes the cigarette back to Hopper with a wince. It really was like old times.

He always picked the worse brands.

His next question does not exactly surprise her, but it definitely catches her emotions off guard. Immediately she feels a large lump growing in her throat.

"How are you holding up?"

She shakes her head, eyes falling back to the concrete as she nibbles at her nail.

"Ya know," She mumbles.

"Yeah, I mean," he nods, tsking another drag of the cigarette. "that feeling never goes away. But it is true what they say, you know..."

Joyce looks up at the man that towers over her, he holds the bud in his hands with a frown before handing it back to her.

"Every day does get a little easier."

Joyce takes the cigarette in her shaky hand, taking one long puff hoping it will replace the sadness that sits on her heart. But when the smoke leaves her lips the weight remains, and she finds it growing even heavier as the memory engulfs her once more. Her head grows heavy and dangles off her shoulders and into Hopper's side.

He can feel his heart lurch at her sadness, wanting nothing more than to take it all away. But he knows more than anything that healing took time. Instead, the two remained locked in one another's embrace. They feel the breeze carry the snippy winter air over their bodies unaffected in each other's warmth.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"Y/n Henderson! I thought that was you,"

"Hey, Mr. Clarke,"

El timidly follows Y/n to the table with the familiar man who she almost immediately recognized. El watched silently from Y/n's side as she placed the bright red ticket in a glass bowl on the table. El froze suddenly when Mr. Clarke suddenly addressed her.

"Well, hello there, Miss," his eyes tightened into a friendly squint, and he gestured towards her. "Have we met? You look awfully familiar."

El's eyebrows twitched upwards, her mouth parting as she looked to Y/n not quite sure what to do. Y/n quickly jumped in with a rigid smile.

"She gets that a lot, but no," she explained quickly. "This is an old friend of mine, El,"

Y/n meets eyes briefly with her friend and they share a quick smile before returning nonchalantly to Mr. Clarke, hooking their arms together.

"She's my guest for the night,"

The man nodded in understanding, clicking his tongue as Y/n handed him El's ticket along with the special form.

"Ah, well," smiling up at the pair, unknowingly giving El a strikingly similar welcome as he had the year before. "Welcome to Hawkins Middle, El. We're happy to have you."

The two look at one another before departing, the largest of grins breaking out on their face. They burst into another fit of giggles as they head for the door, leaving Mr. Clarke to shake his head and smile as he welcomes the last of the guests.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"Every breath you take,"

Mike sits alone, twiddling his thumbs. A small sigh builds up in his chest as he realizes yet another song change has been made, and still no El. He wasn't mad, just worried. All he wanted was to see her. To dance with her. To hold her.

"Every move you make,"

The usual creak of the gym's wooden door rings in his ears once more, and lazily he turns to see who else had risen his spirits. But his heart stops when he sees two figures entering the gym. One of them, his long time friend who glances excitedly behind her as she beckons the other shy figure behind her.

When he realized it was really El, he jumped to his feet, unable to blink. Too afraid she would vanish in thin air. She was gorgeous. Her hair was slicked back in adorable dark curls, and the dress she wore complimented her perfectly. But none of that mattered to Mike, just her being there was enough to take his breath away.

"Every bond you break Every step you take"

The girls crept forward under the archway of balloons, their eyes sweeping across the crowd. El breathing stopped momentarily just as Mike had. Y/n noticed this and smiled. The two were locked in a wide-eyed stare across the gym, and she laughed silently to herself.

"I'll be watching you,"

Mike watched as Y/n gave her a playful nudge, urging her forward. She watched warmly as the two glid across the sidelines, coming to a gradual stop when they came face to face.

Mike shook his head, unable to rid himself of the beaming smile even if he wanted to.

"You look beautiful," he blurts.

Her gaze drops to the floor in a wild blush, a bright smile on her face to rival his. He casts one glance at the dancing pairs around them and looks back at her.

"Do you wanna dance?"

She looks around the room nervously for a moment. Her eyes wander back to Mike's, and she looks up at him shyly.

"I... don't know how." She admits.

He shrugs, much to her relief.

"I don't either. Do you want to figure it out?"

El quickly nods, feeling her heart burst when he takes her hand in his. They wander onto the dance floor together, both a nervous - but happy - blushing mess.

Y/n smiles to herself once more from the edge of the gym when she sees them disappear into the crowd. Her eyes continue to venture around the room, her heart sinking when she finds no sign of Will.

"How my poor heart aches,"

Together, El and Mike blend in with the crowd of kids when they found a spot to dance. Gently, he takes her hands and places them over his shoulders.

"Like this,"

She smiles, her hands creeping up further to rest comfortably around his neck and he nods.

"Yeah, like that,"

They chuckle lightly as they softly begin to sway, loving nothing more than being in each other's company.

"Every vow you break,"

Nancy and Dustin begin twirling further, a joyous laugh bouncing between them.

When Y/n spots them, among Lucas and Max, the smile grows smaller. Both were pleasant sights, as each pair seemed to be having endless amounts of fun. But like her brother minutes ago, she began to feel lost.

"Every smile you fake, Every claim you stake,"

Finally, she spots Jonathan off by himself, taking advantage of the lack of kids waiting to get their pictures taken to clean his camera lens. Quietly she slips over to his side.

"Jonathan?"

His head picks up, and he smiles when he sees her.

"Hey, Y/n,"

His happy composure quickly falls when he sees her worried expression.

"What's wrong?"

In the back of the gym, the door to the locker room opens and Will enters boredly. He wipes off beads of water he had missed when drying his hands. He trudges back to his spot where he left Mike, his eyes glued to the floor. His head picks up when he sees Mike is no longer there, and he scans the crowd. His eyes widen when he sees him dancing with someone, El he realized it was. His heart began beating sporadically when he realizes what this meant.

"Since you've gone I've been lost without a trace,"

Quickly, Will shuffles forward, even rising himself up onto his tiptoes as to see over the sea of heads to find her.

"I dream at night I can only see your face. I look around and it's you I can't replace,"

"Hey Will the Wise,"

There it was, the voice he had simultaneously been waiting for, and afraid of all night, rang in his ears. Her voice was gentle and equally as nervous.

He blushes at the name, until he sees her. At that moment he swears he forgot how to breathe. When she caught his gaze - and the blush that raged like wildfire on his cheeks - a small laugh escaped. Her hands were shaking but in the best way possible. Like Will, she was just happy to have found him. To be here with him finally.

"You, uh, you're,"

Her eyebrows rose as did the heat in her cheeks at his sudden stutter. And though he seemed to be at an unending loop, he couldn't wipe the grin off of his face. It spread from ear to ear as he looked at her. Finally, he cleared his throat when he decided this was not how he wanted to remember this moment. The thought alone seemed to do the trick and he shook out his nerves as best as he could and exhaled.

"You look..." he shakes his head, unable to find the proper word, but none seemed to do her justice. "amazing."

He winced a little on the inside, finding the word ill-suited for how he usually saw her. He tries once more to shake it off, and just as Lucas had, the millions of scenarios run through his on how to ask her. But before his mouth could even part to speak, she extended her hand.

A playful smile paints her lips at the cheesy words that form on her tongue, but she leans into it, happy to see the delighted and bright warm smile that breaks out on Will's face as he chuckles.

"Care to dance?"

Will feels as if his chest just might burst with the rapid speed of his heart, but he couldn't be happier. His mind jumps back to the bit of advice Jonathan had given him when helping him get ready. At the time he had thought it had been too much, but now as he looked at Y/n, the two of them wearing big goofy grins, he quickly finds himself extending his right arm for her to take.

Gladly, her arm snakes under his arm, trying her best to suppress the violent storm of butterflies raging in her stomach, not realizing Will is doing the same. The pair find themselves in the center of the gym, and shyly their hands come to wrap around one another. Gradually, they begin to sway with the music. They share the occasional giggle as their gaze falls to the floor so as to not step on one another's toes in their nervous state.

In near percent sync, the gym full of students sway with the beat of The Police's Every Breath You Take. Everyone in question can feel themselves getting lost in the beautiful, fleeting moment.

The giddy, and frivolous pair of Lucas and Max twirl with the music. Max's eyes fall briefly to Lucas's lips as he smiles down at her. She can't help but blush back up at the boy who had managed to worm his way past her walls and made her feel welcome. Finally, she pulls him forward, bringing him into a soft and sweet kiss.

"I feel so cold and I long for your embrace,"

She pulls back, smirking up at his awestruck face. He blinks slowly, trying to process what had just happened and he can no longer contain the excited grin breaking out on his face. Softly Max giggles at his reaction, and brings her head to rest on his shoulder.

"I keep crying baby, baby, please,"

El and Mike remain with eyes locked on one another, their hearts beating at dangerous speeds as they sway with one another. The first and only time their eye contact is broken is when simultaneously, their heads inch closer together until their lips meet in a fiery explosion that melts their hearts.

Even when they pull apart, they can longer stand the small distance between them. In a happy, content lull, their foreheads meet, eyes fluttering closed as they lose themselves in the music.

"How my poor heart aches, with every step you take,"

At the very heart of the Snow Ball, Y/n's gaze mingles properly with Will's for the first time since they started dancing, and immediately her skin flushes. Heat resides the most in her cheeks and the tips of her ears and even the back of her neck. Will was her best friend in the whole world, the one she could always confide in and felt most comfortable around. But now she could hardly look at him without melting into a puddle. The way he treated her, just the way he looked at her now set her heart aflutter.

"Every move you make and every vow you break,"

They had been turning numbly in circles, and all she could do to take her mind off of her nerves was to put all her attention into commanding her feet. And yet, anytime she dares steal a glance at him, and feared he'd grow annoyed, he would just be smiling at her. It was a smile of genuine admiration, and it was as if he was silently telling her, 'it's okay. I'm nervous, too,'.

"Every smile you fake, every claim you stake, I'll be watching you,"

Her anxieties began to tell her to look away again, but now as she found herself looking into his kind hazel eyes, she couldn't bear to pull herself away. Y/n is quickly reminded of the dark times just one month ago. How awful it had been to look into these eyes and see nothing but hatred and darkness. But strangely, it assured only further now. These were the kind eyes that had always admired her from afar. These were the kind eyes she had missed so much.

"Every smile you fake, every claim you stake,"

The way he had always felt about her was undeniable, and as she felt the warmth brewing in her chest, spreading to her stomach and even dizzying her head, she knew she felt it too. She wondered why it had taken so long to get there, but more than anything she knew she wanted to hold onto it. What he had felt all these years.

Simultaneously, their smiles melted away, the blood pumping fast through their veins. Will and Y/n both felt it, the unbreakable magnetic pull that drew them towards one another. The closer they grew the quicker their racing hearts blended closer into one sporadic heartbeat. Finally, their lips met in a tender kiss as the music swelled around them. Will tried desperately not let his knees buckle, his stomach doing flips. It felt as if a firecracker had went off inside of Y/n's stomach, the warmth in her chest exploded and spread all the way to her fingertips, unknowingly her hands and arms warming his shoulders.

The kiss had lasted seconds but felt like a lifetime in the best way possible. It was a kiss that still lingered on their lips when they broke apart, a feeling they never wanted to let go of. The pair broke out into matching grins that neither one of them could contain. Finally, they were together.

"I'll be watching you,"

Finally, they were happy. And they would be, in the many months to follow.

"I'll be watching you,"

The four young pairs - even Dustin and Nancy who happily bounced their heads along to the rhythm of the beat - danced long into the night. The music from the speakers blasting through the gym, and echoing out into the cold December night.

"Every breath you take and every move you make Every bond you break, every step you take"

Each and every one of them blissfully unaware of the greatest threat Hawkins had ever known, towering above their heads in the Upside Down.

Watching.

I'll be watching you.

Waiting.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

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queenof-literature · 4 years

Note

Could you please do a story on Ao3 about Warriors going through reliving the same day over and over again? Kinda like a Happy Death Day thing.

Hi all! I know that my poll had my Hero of Wild series next, but it has been so long since I updated a request and I feel so bad about that I just didn’t want to write any requests in the middle of moving so it didn’t feel I was putting less effort in. But now I’m sick so I have a little time.

IMPORTANT: I’ve decided to put a new section on my Tumblr masterlist specifically for requests that will not be in my personal LU storyline. I love all of my requests y’all are so creative! I just enjoy putting my fics into my own personal timeline on my Masterlist when possible, and some requests aren’t going to naturally fit in. And that’s perfectly fine! I’m just going to put it in a different section :)

This one is shorter than usual so I’m sorry about that, but I hope you enjoy!

Thank you for the request anon! Here’s the link https://archiveofourown.org/works/26368114

Another day another brawl with infected monsters allied with eight other versions of himself.

No Link even knew what timeline they were in, no one had claimed this one as their own. But something just felt… off. Sure it was a strange Hyrule, but no other Hyrule felt quite like this. It felt as if they were in some sort of limbo. As if time itself was molasses.

Warriors absolutely hated this feeling. As a captain he was used to being on a constant move, going where he was needed from morning to late at night. It could be exhausting, but it was simply the life Warriors lived as a captain. He had to admit, relaxing with the other Links was actually enjoyable. There was just a calm aura that helped even Warriors relax. But this wasn’t calm, this Hyrule set the hairs on the back of his neck on edge. When he brought it up, the other Links had confirmed that they usually felt that way in a strange Hyrule. Warriors couldn’t explain that this was different, it wasn’t like other Hyrules, there was something utterly wrong.

The woods resembled the Lost Woods of Wild’s and Time’s Hyrules. Although it was far less foggy, there was a mysterious mist that permeated the area. The leader in Warriors wanted to do something, anything, other than simply walk through looking for the answers to why they were here. But no matter where they turned, the woods never seemed to end. Warriors certainly didn’t appreciate that Legend and Hyrule were completely unfazed. Just what in seven hells have those two been through that this shit was normal?

Back to the matter at hand. Hylia was this fog in Warriors’ brain too? The monsters here were unnerving as well. Not exactly horrifying just… distorted. Everytime he glanced back at one their faces seemed to have shifted slightly. Everything in this Hyrule was simply off. And Warriors wanted to leave more than anything.

“Wind!” Warriors heard Four scream. Scream. Four never screamed. Much to his absolute horror, Warriors now understood why. Some monster, Warriors couldn’t even call it its name it was so warped, had cornered Wind completely. His little brother, shield and sword tossed too far for him to reach, warped and disgusting creatures looming over him. No no no. Not Wind, Wind didn’t deserve to die like this. None of his brothers did. Hylia can’t do this. She can’t do this! Not Wind, not the little pirate. He was such a little shit, a tornado of foul language, innocent questions and bright outlooks. He was Warriors’ little pirate and he couldn’t die. Not here, not now. Warriors needed to protect all of them. He wouldn’t fail. He couldn’t!

“Wind!” Warriors yelled, the last thing he saw was Wind’s wide and terrified eyes, claws just above his heart.

Another day another brawl with infected monsters allied with eight other versions of himself.

Warriors didn’t know what was off about this Hyrule but he didn’t like it. It sent a chill up his spin, an uncomfortable reminder that something was off. He didn’t know why, and he also didn’t know why he was so concerned for Wind. Sure he always was, the kid was a talented fighter and a hell of a force to be reckoned with, but he was still a kid that Warriors appointed himself to look after. He needed to protect all of his brothers-in-arms. He needed to make sure they all made it back to their Hyrules, their homes, even if some didn’t have a home, they still needed to make it back to their Hyrules.

But there was something about this place that made Warriors stay as close to Wind as possible without raising too many questions. Wind knew something was going on, and would most likely ask for an explanation later. Too bad Warriors didn’t have one.

“Monsters!” Warriors heard a sharp call from Twilight. How had he not heard or seen anything!? Hylia this place was messing with his head. Warriors unsheathed his sword just as hulking creatures rushed in from the trees. Warriors kept a cautious eye on Wind as he rolled under the first to reach him, springing up and cutting his sword through the monster's back. These monsters were different, warped and shifting almost constantly.

Warriors kept himself near Wind as much as possible. Something was wrong and it involved Wind. Warriors didn’t have time to question his instincts, he had learned that the hard way. The kid was doing fine on his own, but Warriors kept his eye on him while slashing through the pack that had decided to attack.

“Hyrule!” Legend yelled, dashing towards the boy who had been disarmed. Just like that, it all came crashing down. This was familiar, this had happened. Warriors couldn’t breathe, what was going on? He failed, but he hadn’t failed yet. Why did he feel like he failed? His vision went black, the last sight he saw this time was Hyrule’s flickering magic. Wait… this time?

Another day another brawl with… oh shit. Warriors hated that odd feeling of remembrance that seemed to hit Hylians at odd times. No, it wasn’t just a feeling. This had happened? Warriors glanced around at his fellow Links walking down the road. Hyrule chatting with Legend, the older hiding a small smile at the other coming out of his shell more and more. Wild with Four, the two having a quiet conversation Warriors couldn’t hear. Sky and Time discussing strategy for their current situation. Twilight telling Wind about Epona, the young boy didn’t have horses in his Hyrule and Twilight was always happy to discuss animals.

Everything seemed fine with them, besides the creepy Hyrule they were in. But Warriors knew something was wrong. What was wrong?

“Monsters!” It was Sky who noticed this time. This time? The group all prepared their weapons, the trees shook as monsters came from the gaps. Warriors could only describe their faces as distorted. Where had he seen that before? There weren’t monsters like that in his Hyrule. Warriors charged forward, slashing across what he assumed to be the lead monster’s chest. Glancing over it seemed there were eight more monsters, one for each hero. A coincidence? Or something more sinister. A yelp rang through the battle and Warriors whipped around from above the monster’s corpse. There was Legend, a warped monster standing tall above him, sword raised.

“Legend!” Warriors yelled.

“What?” Legend snarked. Warriors stumbled back, surrounded by the misty forest, and eight worried Links.

“I-what? The monsters?” Warriors stuttered out.

“What? Monsters? Where?” Wind asked looking around, and a flash of big blue eyes looking above him in fear. Oh, Hylia! Wind had been cornered! And Hyrule!

“Wind! Hyrule! Are you guys okay?” Warriors asked frantically.

“What? I’m fine?” Wind reassured, Hyrule nodding along with him, Wind didn’t look defensive, he looked concerned. They all did, they were all concerned. Warriors was surrounded by worry and it was absolutely suffocating him. He shouldn’t worry them, he was a captain it was his job to take care of them!

“Warriors? What’s wrong?” Wild asked softly. Warriors sort of looked like him after a memory.

“I don’t know!” Warriors shouted, not at Wild but at himself.

“Let’s take a break.” Time placated.

“No! They’ll get to us!” Warriors’ wide eyes turned to Time, and the Old Man could see how tormented Warriors was in that moment. Time had his back turned for a minute, what had happened?

“Who War?” Legend asked, concerned.

“Monsters! They keep coming.” Warriors tried to explain but nothing solid was coming out. How could he? Would the other Links even believe him? Just as the group tried to continue questioning Warriors, a stick snapped. “They’re here!” Warriors called, unsheathing his sword, the others raced to follow his lead. But apparently, this battle was only the beginning. This time, it was Time, somehow his Biggoron sword had been launched across the clearing.

Next it was Twilight, throwing himself in front of Time. That would have been the second round of Time dy- of Time being defeated if Twilight hadn’t stepped in. It killed Warriors to see the shock and horror on Time’s face.

Next it was Four, his bright eyes shifting through colors as the monster’s steel came down upon him. Whatever was dragging Warriors around through time like a ragdoll never let him stick around enough to let him actually see them die, or to even try and defend them. It just yanked him away, each time with more memories to use to try and protect his brothers the next time. Warriors stopped questioning it, he just wanted it to be over.

The next time it was Hyrule again, he had healed Legend and had been too tired to completely defend himself.

After that was Wild, the boy had been surrounded by four monsters in one blink of an eye.

Next was Sky, not even his expert swordsmanship could save him when he was surrounded by those things.

Four again.

Twilight again.

Sky again.

Then it was Warriors’ turn. A million thoughts raced through his head in the moment he felt a dark presence behind him. Would this finally be over now that it wasn’t the others who were about to perish? Did Hyia not care enough for him? Warriors didn’t want to die, not here, not after all this. But it was better him than the others. They needed to make it back. The monster screamed and Warriors tensed, but felt nothing. Turning around just in time to see the monster vanish in a puff of smoke, whipping around Warriors eyes met Time’s. And for the first time since this whole thing began, Warriors saw complete understanding in Time’s eyes.

“I know. It’s over now.” Time reassured, placing a hand on Warriors’ shoulder. Time wasn’t just talking about the battle, Time somehow knew something of what Warriors had been through. The man just seemed to get more mysterious everyday, but right now Warriors didn’t even question it. He was just relieved. He desperately hoped it was truly over. Warriors ignored the others calling his name and asking if he was alright, he just looked at Time.

“Why? Why did it happen?” Warriors held back tears, the looks of desperation and fear on his brother’s faces wouldn’t stop flashing in his mind.

“I don’t know.” It was the first time Warriors had ever heard time sound so lost.

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syilcawrites · 4 years

Text

archived memories | 6

Series: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild Type: Multi-Chapter Main pairing: Zelink (Zelda and Link) Rated: T Tags/Genre: pre-calamity, fluff (middle chapters mostly), hurt (toward the last chapters lmao), pining Summary: bits and pieces of zelink scenes strewn in between the canon memories in botw! Snippet from Ch 6: “’Oh fish pie, one day you will soon find your home inside my stomach,’ Zelda sighed out wistfully at her drawing, hugging it close to her face.” A/N: Between Memory 7-9 You can also read it on ao3! Click here to see all chapters on tumblr

Chapter 6: people watching

Zelda swung her legs as she sat snuggly inside a tree that faced Castletown, hiding from her citizens. She watched them roam about their day, unaware of her presence, as she observed them curiously. This had been a habit of hers since she was young, and it was a nice break in between praying and studying Sheikah technology.

She quickly shoved the last of her candied apples into her mouth and scrambled for her quill as a group of little kids appeared around the corner, running and scrambling and laughing.

It seems that the citizens of Castletown are quite close to one another, as many of the children that I have seen roaming about are doing so unsupervised. This is pleasantly surprising considering how many outsiders come in and out frequently, but I’m glad to see such safety present in our beloved, bustling town.

Zelda brought a leg up to her chest as she tried to keep the ruffle of her dress down in the process. She would’ve changed into her field attire if it wasn’t for the fact that she wasn’t supposed to leave the castle without some sort of escort in the first place.

She leaned against the trunk of the tree, watching them play tag for a little. She could already hear her father’s reprimanding tone regarding her boorish posture, but that was the beauty in hiding—she could do whatever she wanted to do, and she desperately needed this. She shook her head at the thought of her father, letting thoughts of him fall out in the process. The last thing she wanted to do was to mull over her relationship with him when she finally had some time to herself. With a sigh, she tapped the feather of her quill on her knee as she absentmindedly flipped through the pages of her notebook, mostly paying attention to the noisy, boisterous children.

The longer she watched them, the more uncomfortable she became—it was a sensation she was all too familiar with. Zelda scolded herself as she nipped away a bud of jealousy that had begun to form within her. She wanted to run around in the grass, laughing carefree and wholly. She thought she had dashed away such desires, but watching others do so seemed to resurface those bygone dreams.

As they rounded another corner, disappearing from view, her attention drifted to a bakery a bit further down the road. Zelda brought her ink bottle up and dabbed the tip of the quill into it before going back to her notebook.

The bakery near the east gate always has delicious bread and pastries available—I’ve always wanted to try some, but I would have to disguise myself. I’m not sure if I will have time…

She looked up thoughtfully, watching the leaves sway in the wind, as she tried to scourge up some plans to sneak into Castletown on her own. The last time Zelda tried venturing in, she had taken escorts, and the experience resembled the taste of watered down fruit juice. The escorts took every single thing she tried to eat out of her hands and tasted it themselves first before letting her have a bite out of it. Eating a meal that was already bitten out of wasn’t quite the same and made the experience quite… unenjoyable to say the least.

Zelda sniffed the air—fresh bread. Her stomach growled as she rapidly wrote down her thoughts.

The owner must wake up before the sun even rises to prepare his dough for it to look as scrumptious as it usually does! I cannot wait to see what types of pastries he’s made this week. Two months ago, the last time I was able to take a breath outside of the castle on my own, he had a set of specific assortments. Maybe now, he’ll spruce up the variety that he offers. Will he have more pastries this time around? Does he work alone? It must take hours preparing as much delicacies as he does.

Zelda tapped her notebook carefully as her thoughts drifted to Link. He would eat almost anything, and he probably had already tried every single meal that Castletown had to offer at this point.

She perked up when she saw the bakery owner walk out with a steel plate full of various pastries and breads—from fish pie to plain wheat bread—and all of it looked as delicious as one would expect. She chewed at her bottom lip as she quickly sketched the tray of goods in his hands. Luckily for her, he was setting it down outside on a table to organize it.

Zelda’s eyebrows knitted together in concentration, her hands trying to get down the perfect line and stroke. If she had the Sheikah Slate with her, she could’ve taken a picture, but Impa had asked for it before Zelda decided to go on her rendezvous.

Regardless, her drawings outside of Sheikah technology never ended up the way she wanted them to. She found sketching ancient ruins and tech much more linear and… ironically, more simplified compared to sketching the daily wonders of life itself, which always seemed to prove difficult for her.

“Oh fish pie, one day you will soon find your home inside my stomach,” Zelda sighed out wistfully at her drawing, hugging it close to her face.

She lowered her notebook to see if anything else particularly stuck out, but instead found herself face to face with bright blue eyes. She squealed in surprise and scrambled in her spot, almost falling off the tree. Link released one of his hands that grasped the tree branch hanging above her to catch her by her shoulder before she could fall off.

“Link, you almost scared the Goddess out of me!” Zelda hissed as she composed herself, going back to her snug spot nestled in the tree. She looked him up and down, raising an eyebrow. “When did you even—how did you even get up there?” she asked, her heart still racing in her chest. He looked a little funny just hanging around in front of her, but she was also concerned that the branch would snap off if he hung there any longer.

“I climbed,” he stated simply. He began swinging to a branch on her left, and she lightly hit his shoulder when he swung by.

“Don’t make too much noise or they’ll hear us!” She hissed again. He landed quietly on it, crouching. The branch was thicker and closer to the trunk, easily supporting his weight.

He cupped his hands over his mouth. “What are you doing up here?” He half whispered back, but it was still much louder than she would’ve liked.

She brought a stiff finger to her lips, darting her eyes over to the citizens, but they continued to obliviously go about their day.

“I’m simply…” Zelda waved her hand toward the people. “Observing my people. Sometimes I like to people watch.” She whispered, shrugging. She had been doing this since she was a young girl. Although she certainly stopped coming here as frequently as before, sometimes it was nice to just… watch others go about their day. To be an invisible spectator. It was something that she hadn’t experienced much in her own day to day life, where everyone was constantly watching her every move.

And she was still feeling a bit glum about being unable to accompany Link back to Hateno, so she sought refuge away from everyone else in order to feel sorry for herself in solitude. After her father had found out she was planning to visit Hateno with him, he had explained his disappointment in her for even considering such a thing.

“There are enough rumors about you already, do you plan to add more by accompanying your knight attendant, alone, to his hometown?” He had told her, shaking his head.

Zelda was confused, because they had traveled alone together before, but any word to defend herself simply went in one ear and out the other whenever it came to communicating with her father. She wasn’t sure what was worse though—hearing him explain how unacceptable and foolish it was of her to consider such an activity or the fact that Link remained quiet for the remainder of the week afterwards.

He didn’t tell her when he left for Hateno, and she saw him ride away across the grassy plains early yesterday morning from her study tower. She was glad that he was able to visit his family without any setbacks, if anything.

“When did you get back?” Zelda asked him, still scribbling away at her notebook. She was almost done with the last batch of pastries, and the baker was beginning to bring them all back into the building to put them on display.

“Just now.”

She heard him shuffling around—he did have a satchel around him when she saw him. It was probably food, knowing him.

I’ve also feel inclined to mention that the baker seems to have two children, both quite young, but I have never seen the baker embrace another adult. Perhaps his significant other is ill, or—

Zelda stopped writing, letting the sentence drop off where it was. She used to create scores of stories for random citizens she saw, but for some reason, she found it to be rude the more she thought about it.

Link tapped her shoulder, and she withdrew herself from her notebook.

“I brought these for you,” he stated, shoving a couple of jars filled with a milky liquid color at her. His voice had a sound of excitement that she was surprised to hear.

“Oh—“ Zelda struggled to juggle holding her notebook, ink, quill, and the bottles all at once, but Link was too busy pulling the bag over his shoulder to notice.

“I’m not sure what colors you wanted so I just picked up a bunch of bright flowers and rocks…some monster parts too.” He flipped the flap open, and she saw various colorful materials neatly stacked and labeled. There were fleet-lotus seeds, nightshade flowers, rock salts; there were even some moblin guts in a jar.

“What’s all this for?” Zelda asked, blinking.

“You said you needed to dye some clothes right?” Link asked, tilting his head. He looked down at her lap and noticed all of the stuff piled on top. “Sorry, your hands are already full.” He frowned and reached over for the jars, stuffing them back into the satchel.

“Oh Link,” Zelda laughed lightly, her heart felt full against her chest. “You didn’t have to go out of your way to get all of this.”

“You sew a lot, and Hateno’s dyes are really good.” Link pulled something out of the pocket inside of the satchel—a piece of paper. “The owner of the dye shop told me a list of materials that make really strong colors, in case you’re interested. Just let me know if you want anything and I can get it.”

Zelda’s tongue caught in her throat and she didn’t know what to say. For some reason, it felt overwhelming and her cheeks hurt from smiling.

“That’s awfully sweet of you,” Zelda said, accepting the piece of paper. “Did you draw this?” She held up the list, waving it a little.

Link hummed, nodding his head.

Her smile widened as she rifled through the list—the drawings were simple and crudely colored, but they were carefully considered.

“Thank you Link.” She hugged the paper to her chest. “I’ll keep this close to my heart.” Zelda hummed happily as she shifted through the objects that Link still held out to her, his arms stiff. She looked up quizzically when she didn’t hear a response from him, and froze. He was staring at her, his cheeks tinted a warm red—and now she was blushing because he was. She looked back down at her journal.

“Anyway, h-how did you even know I was up here?” Zelda said, her hands fumbling as she tried to be quick, but careful not to crumple the papers, as she shoved the list into her notebook. “I know that no one can see me from town.” She was too far from the castle for anyone to see her with the naked eye.

He let out a quick exhale, as if he was relieved she had changed the topic. “I asked Impa,” he jabbed his thumb behind him, back toward the castle. “Apparently she’s been watching you with the Sheikah Slate since you left.”

Zelda raised her head, peering past Link’s shoulder. “And to think I could avoid the gaze of the castle,” she mumbled. If she was alone, she would’ve stuck out her tongue and hoped Impa would’ve caught it. She was constantly watching out for her. Sometimes Zelda wondered if she ever slept. She was hoping at least one of her hiding spots would remain safe, but apparently that was too much to ask for. Feeling exposed, Zelda let out a small, frustrated sigh.

“Shall we head back then?” she asked stiffly, already moving herself from her position. She hoped that the various flora and shrubs would block her from anyone’s sight. Link looked at her curiously, but began to climb down as well.

“Is something bothering you?” Link asked as Zelda patted down her skirt, making sure it was free of dirt.

“I’ve been up there before the sun rose up, so I’m just feeling a little winded down.” Zelda tried to keep her voice light, but she knew it came out strained instead. She flipped through her notebook quickly, ensuring that everything was still in its place.

“Nothing else is wrong?” Link pressed again.

“What isn’t wrong?” Zelda huffed out, shutting it with both of her hands a bit more forcefully than she intended. She stood there for a moment before letting out another small sigh. “I apologize. I’m not angry… just frustrated." She stared up blankly at the castle. "I simply want to unlock my sealing powers,” she admitted tiredly.

She turned to face him when she felt his hand press against the top of her head. He drew his hand back with a small cherry blossom flower in between his fingers. He twirled it a little by the stem, looking at it thoughtfully.

“Just know that you’re not alone,” he said quietly. Zelda smiled at him, but it did not linger for long. Even though she knew he meant it, it couldn’t erase the sense of loneliness that was ever-present in her life. She followed his movements as he looked up to the sky, raising his hand, about to release the little flower into the wind.

“Wait—“ Zelda held out her hand, staring longingly at the flower pinched between his fingers. “May I?”

He placed it in her palm, and Zelda watched the petals flutter lightly against the gentle breeze. She softened at the sight of it and glanced at Link.

“It’s just for research.” She declared swiftly, when she saw him eyeing her with an unreadable expression.

“Using a cherry blossom?” Link asked. The corners of his mouth twitched, as if he was trying to keep a laugh at bay.

“Yes!” Zelda insisted, drawing her hand back to her chest. “Just for research,” she quietly said. She glanced down to make sure the little flower was still safely in her palm before she turned around so he couldn’t see what she was doing. She tucked the flower into an empty page, pressing her notebook shut firmly and tightly to ensure that it wouldn’t slip out.

She told herself that she always pressed flowers and all sorts of vegetation for documentation. This wasn’t any different.

“On a more important note,” she started, mostly to remind herself, “I want to get the Sheikah Slate back from Impa. I still have a multitude of tests to run through with it, and there’s a shrine that I want to visit with Robbie and Purah before we head to the Spring of Courage.” It was going to be one of the last shrines she would be able to visit in months, and she wanted to get the most out of it before then.

Zelda raised an eyebrow when she noticed his eyes flit to the left, which was a habit of his when he was thinking.

“Thinking about something?” she inquired curiously.

He parted his lips slightly, but just as quick they sealed back together and he shook his head. Zelda narrowed her eyes.

“Come on, tell me?” she asked, poking his chest. “You can’t just not tell me after looking so thoughtful!”

He smiled at her—but it was a smile filled with mischief.

#zelink #botw #breath of the wild #botw fanfiction #zelda #link #archived memories #hope u all like this chapter!!#my fanfics

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