#i maybe went a little overboard but i think she looks really good in gold | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rookthorne · 2 years ago

Text

The warnings got me-

“Can it be Christmas time in like—” Bucky glanced at his clock and groaned, “—two more hours?”

He is literally me 🤣

When you heard the shower turn on, you slipped into the bathroom.

“Are you joining me?” Bucky peeked around the curtain.

SO HOPEFUL

“No time,” you shook your head. “I’m fixing my hair so I don’t look ratchet in the pictures I know you’re going to take when you think I’m not looking.”

BAHAHAHA you are busted, Bucky! 🤣

After you were pleased with your hair, you quickly changed into the matching Christmas pajamas that you had bought for you and Bucky. They were the most obnoxious ones you could find—bright green with little Santas and elves printed all over.

they are goals 🥹

After realizing how much you had done to make his Christmas special, he wanted to do the same for you. Never getting gifts from Santa just didn’t sit right with him—even during the Depression, his parents always made sure he had at least one gift to open from Santa.

Had he gone a little overboard? Maybe, but you deserved it.

NO SUCH THING AS OVERBOARD 🥹

You gave him an amused smile and went to pick up the large red envelope sitting on one of the boxes. “I’m sorry I missed you all those years. Hope this makes up for it. Merry Christmas, Santa Claus.”

my heart is gonna BURST OH MY GOD 😭😭😭

Tears weren’t the reaction he had imagined last night as he piled the gifts under the tree. Your hips grinding against him definitely wasn’t what he had expected.

As Bucky sat on the floor next to you, you tore into the paper excitedly. You opened the box to find a very interesting purse. You tried to hide the immediate frown that started to form, but you weren't quick enough; you could see Bucky’s disappointment already.

oh no

“It’s okay if you don’t like it—I saved the receipt.”

OH NO

Bucky sighed and looked away, embarrassed. “I wanted to get you something unexpected, and I was clueless, and I asked Nicki to help, and she said you’d like it—” Bucky paused his rambling when you laughed loudly. “What?”

he’s so oblivious it’s almost painful

You giggled and slid onto the floor to sit next to him. “No, I wanna keep it. I love it because it’s from you.”

oh he’s so adorable

I would parade around wearing it while staring at her

“Really,” you leaned in to kiss him lightly, never stopping as you talked. “I’ll keep it forever and pass it down to our daughter; it’ll be a good story—oh shit.” You sat back as if Bucky’s lips had electrocuted you. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that. Oh my god.” Your face was burning red as you tried to get off the floor and escape your embarrassment.

👀👀👀

Bucky pulled you back down to him and held your face in his hands. “It’ll be a great story to tell our kids and grandkids.”

“I wasn’t sure what you had caught up on already, but the guy at the hipster bookstore you like–yes, I had Yelena follow you one day–said these were the most popular books from the past few decades. I tried to get the oldest copies I could find–vintage, like you.” You smiled softly, sitting next to him as he pulled the books from the box.

YELENA GODDAMMIT 🤣🤣🤣

“A key? For what?”

…Haylie

A sleek white motorcycle with intricate black and gold detailing was parked right in front of his building.

HAYLIE!

You laughed at how Bucky’s head whipped back and forth between you and the window. The idea had come to you weeks ago; Bucky didn’t have a fancy superhero outfit, he couldn’t fly around like Sam, and he didn’t have fancy cars like Nat used to. You wanted him to have his own signature, and no one could miss this bike.

“All yours, White Wolf,” you wrapped your arms around him from behind. “Do you like it?”

“It’s fucking perfect, holy shit,” Bucky tore his eyes away from the window to stare at you in amazement. “Sam’s gonna be so jealous–I don’t care that he can fly–this is better. Can we go for a ride?”

OKAY OKAY OKAY

MY HEART 😭😭😭

(Bucky and Sam are gonna race each other I can feel it, it has to happen)

Bucky pulled your in for a kiss, but you thwarted him. “There's still gifts to open, don’t distract me.”

😏😏😏

Bucky thumbed through the little book, picking a random page to read from. “One free massage–clothes optional.” Bucky smiled wryly as realization sunk in. “There are some, um, interesting things in here, doll.”

HA HA 😈

I would like him to redeem them pls

“Everything is perfect, doll. I—it’s been so long since anyone bought me anything. I’m a bit overwhelmed at how thoughtful these gifts are.”

“We’re just a pair of saps today, aren’t we?” You stroked his hair as you looked at each other misty-eyed.

don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry

Inside was a very fancy-looking knife. The handle was black and gold, the pattern the same as Bucky’s vibranium arm. The blade was shaped like a canto knife, but something was slightly off.

I just fell in love.

You shrugged and leaned down to his lips. “I was thinking that I would fuck my boyfriend, really dirty and loud so that bitch next door knows who he belongs to—and to thank him for the best Christmas of my entire life.”

“Fucking hell,” Bucky muttered to himself, head tipped back before snapping it up and giving you the cocky look the role called for. “You’re my best girl, doll.”

oh hello there second heartbeat what’re you doin’

“Feel so good, baby girl, a fuckin’ dream,” Bucky grunted as he started to thrust as slowly as he could.

THIS IS AN ATTACK AND I DEMAND YOU DON’T STOP

“Talk to me–tell me how bad you need it, or I’ll stop.”

DON’T YOU DARE

“Christ,” Bucky muttered, his jaw visibly clenching. “What’s gotten into you?”

fucking HELL I can hear it and picture it and it is hazardous to my HEALTH

“Is that what you want, baby girl?” He leaned down to your ear, pushing your thigh up to get even deeper in you. “Want me to fill up this tight little cunt?”

I AM GONNA SMOTHER YOU IN YOUR SLEEP FOR PAYBACK, HAYLIE, YA BITCH

“Pretty little pussy’s taking it so well–I’m so deep, baby girl, fuck–take it, fucking take it.”

ILLEGAL! HORNY JAIL FOR YOU!

Bucky’s face twisted as his dick became too sensitive. “Fuck, doll st–stop. Too much,” he groaned out. “Can’t stop cumming–it won’t stop, fuck!”

I almost lost my shit here oh my god

“Oh,” Bucky poked his head back into the bathroom. “And we are definitely talking about this daddy thing—don’t think you’re getting away with that.”

okay daddy 😈

she’s gonna say it to rile him up from now on isn’t she

she better

Your Eyes Outshine The Town...Chapter 14

Bucky Barnes x Black Female Reader

18+ ONLY

Summary: You and Bucky have finally made it to Christmas! Fluff and filthy smut lie ahead! (This chapter has been slightly edited based on that Christmas smut request I got!)

Warnings: Dom Bucky, daddy kink, breeding kink, lot's of cum (don't look at me, you guys asked for it okay!)

*Tumblr is not letting me add links to the prev or next chapters. Please see the masterlist pinned to my page for the rest of the story!*

Christmas Day

You woke up early; you had barely slept, too excited about the last-minute gift you had managed to secure for Bucky. He was dozing peacefully, and you felt only a smidge of guilt as you coaxed him awake.

“What time is it? He grumbled, rolling onto his back and putting his arm over his eyes.

“It’s Christmas time!” You bounced on the bed and shook his shoulder.

“Can it be Christmas time in like—” Bucky glanced at his clock and groaned, “—two more hours?”

“No being grumpy on Christmas, you little Grinch, come on!”

You felt his concession as his muscles relaxed, and he allowed you to pull him up to a sitting position.

“Merry Christmas,” he muttered as he kissed you. “Can I at least shower before we start?”

“Your first gift is waiting for you in the bathroom.” You smiled and nodded, slyly scanning his body to check his wounds. Satisfied that he was essentially fully healed, you gave him a quick kiss before letting him up.

“Suspicious,” Bucky hummed and got up. “I’ll be quick.”

When you heard the shower turn on, you slipped into the bathroom.

“Are you joining me?” Bucky peeked around the curtain.

“No time,” you shook your head. “I’m fixing my hair so I don’t look ratchet in the pictures I know you’re going to take when you think I’m not looking.”

“Fine,” Bucky said with a pout before disappearing behind the curtain again.

“Really don’t think this is my color, doll.”

Bucky stepped out of the bathroom with the most adorably annoyed look on his face. You grabbed your side as you fell into a fit of laughter.

Bucky crossed his arms in an attempt to look put off. “And now you’re laughing at me.”

“No, no—” you tried to stop laughing, “—you look very sexy.”

“At least we’re matching, though you don’t look nearly as ridiculous as I do.” Bucky finally smiled, and such a simple action had your heart racing, making you regret not getting in that shower.

Bucky held out his hand, pulling you into a tight hug. “Come on, let’s go see what Santa brought you.”

Bucky hadn’t slept much either, and while he would have preferred to celebrate his first real Christmas in decades at a more decent hour, the ridiculous pajamas had instantly lifted his mood. He didn’t fully understand how ugly pajamas made him love you more, but it did. He squeezed your hand as you rounded the corner, suddenly a little nervous about the large pile of gifts that had magically appeared under the small tree.

“Buck—what—where did these come from?”

He felt his face go slightly pink as you gaped up at him, waiting on an answer.

Had he gone a little overboard? Maybe, but you deserved it.

Bucky shrugged. “Beats me. Looks like there's a note.”

Bucky wrapped his arms around you from behind, squeezing you gently.

“Buck, I—I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t cry,” Bucky whispered when he felt your slight shaking. “Merry Christmas, doll.”

You turned around in his arms and almost knocked him to the floor with the force of your kiss. Bucky stumbled backward as he caught you and let you wrap your legs and arms around him. Your salty tears ran down your cheeks and over your connected lips. Tears weren’t the reaction he had imagined last night as he piled the gifts under the tree. Your hips grinding against him definitely wasn’t what he had expected. He forced himself to pull his face away.

“You don’t even know what’s in the boxes yet,” he said breathlessly.

“Doesn’t matter,” you murmured against his skin as you sucked marks on his neck. “Fucking love you so much. You’re perfect. So perfect.” You moved your hands from around his neck to his face and pulled his lips back to yours.

“Okay, okay—” Bucky made himself stop kissing you and sat you down in the one chair in the living room. “I love you too, but I really want you to open your gifts.”

You were grinning from ear to ear. “Okay, Santa—but first—” you reached for the remote and used your phone to play your Christmas playlist through the tv speakers.

“Now everything’s perfect.” You kissed him one last time before you let him go to bring you a present to open.

“This one is from me.” Bucky handed you the first gift.

You rolled your eyes at his antics, but your excited smile never faltered.

“It’s okay if you don’t like it—I saved the receipt.”

You turned to him with a pitying smile. “No, Bucky—I love it. It’s very—yellow.”

“Oh, Bucky, you poor sweet innocent man,” you squeezed his cheeks as he looked up at you, completely confused. “Nicki does not like me.”

Bucky tilted his head as if this was news to him.

“Bucky—she is totally into you. So don’t take this personally when I tell you that she picked the most god-awful purse in the entire store on purpose.”

“Seriously? I—I had no idea. Fuck, we can take it back.”

You giggled and slid onto the floor to sit next to him. “No, I wanna keep it. I love it because it’s from you.”

“Really?” Bucky smiled again and held your hand.

Bucky pulled you back down to him and held your face in his hands. “It’ll be a great story to tell our kids and grandkids.”

You stared into his eyes, looking for any hint of regret, of panic, any sign that he was about to get the hell away from your crazy ass. You had barely been together a few weeks, and you were talking about kids, for crying out loud. But all you found was complete adoration and devotion—you hadn’t fucked it up like you was always afraid you would.

“Time for you to open one of your gifts.” You kissed his cheek and went to the tree to pick up a large, heavy box. “Sit, I got it,” you huffed, dropping the package at Bucky’s feet.

Bucky opened it curiously, smiling when he found two piles of books inside.

“I love it–I–you could have just asked, though,” Bucky snickered.

“I wanted it to be a surprise! This one's my favorite,” you picked up an early edition of The Great Gatsby.

Bucky pulled you into his lap, kissing your temple as he watched you thumb through the pages. “I’ve actually read this one. Why is it your favorite?”

You shrugged, placing the book back with the rest. “I guess as a poor, lonely teenager, I just liked the glitz and glamor.”

Bucky nudged your chin toward him for a kiss, but you jumped up, searching for his second gift.

“Open this one next.” You placed a much smaller box in his waiting hands.

“A key? For what?”

You nodded toward the kitchen window. Bucky gave you an exasperated look before jumping up to see what was outside.

A sleek white motorcycle with intricate black and gold detailing was parked right in front of his building.

“Holy shit, you–how–it’s mine?”

“All yours, White Wolf,” you wrapped your arms around him from behind. “Do you like it?”

Your heart was whole. His complete and total happiness nearly knocked you to the floor.

“Of course, anything you want, baby.”

Bucky pulled your in for a kiss, but you thwarted him. “There's still gifts to open, don’t distract me.”

Bucky rolled his eyes but followed you back to the Christmas tree. “Okay, but you’re opening one now.”

You surveyed the pile of gifts and chose one wrapped in sparkly red paper. Bucky sat across from you on the floor as you tore it open.

“Clothes? You are brave–or did Yelena help you pick it out?”

Bucky shook his head with a laugh, “trust me, you don’t want her helping me in that department. And this is from Santa, remember?”

You pulled a black, fuzzy lounge set out of the box. “You’re right; you don’t need help. This is perfect.”

“Perfect for cuddling.”

“One more for you,” you placed a small package in his open palm.

“A coupon book; did you make this?”

You nodded, curling up next to him.

You matched his grin, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “Don’t worry, Sarge,” you whispered in his ear, “I'll teach you anything you don’t know.”

“Can I kiss you now?” Bucky swallowed thickly.

“A quick one.” You smiled.

“Everything is perfect, doll. I—it’s been so long since anyone bought me anything. I’m a bit overwhelmed at how thoughtful these gifts are.”

“We’re just a pair of saps today, aren’t we?” You stroked his hair as you looked at each other misty-eyed.

“That’s okay; I think we deserve it.”

“Damn right.”

Bucky felt like he might burst at the seams as he watched you open the various gifts he had gotten you from “Santa.” They were nothing big or expensive, just little things he thought you’d enjoy or that reminded him of you. Your favorite candy (sour skittles), a box of mini vodka bottles, a new case for your phone, and a small photo album, half full of pictures Bucky had taken of the two of you over the past few months. You looked at every gift like it was the most precious thing you had ever seen; you never stopped smiling. And Bucky knew his new purpose in life was to spend every moment putting that look on your face.

You were both sitting on the floor, surrounded by bits of wrapping paper and tissue and empty boxes. Bucky didn’t think he could smile any more than he had that morning, and there was still one package left.

“This is another one from me. I think you’ll like it a lot better than the purse.”

“No help from Nicki on this one?” You shook the box by your ear.

“Nope, all me.”

Inside was a very fancy-looking knife. The handle was black and gold, the pattern the same as Bucky’s vibranium arm. The blade was shaped like a canto knife, but something was slightly off. You picked it up carefully and appraised it.

“It’s beautiful,” you breathed out in awe.

“It’s custom made—obviously. The blade is one of a kind. If you ever have to use it—they’ll know it was you.”

You grinned and twirled the knife in your hand. “It’s perfect; I love it. I hope I don’t have to kill anyone with it—it’s too pretty.”

Bucky chuckled and leaned back on his elbows to watch you play with the knife. He should have known that this was a much better gift than the stupid purse.

“I don’t know what your plans are now–if you’re still going to be going on missions. But if you do, this way, you’ll have something to remind you of me while you’re away.”

You put the knife away and climbed into Bucky’s lap. “That’s very sweet.”

Bucky laid back on the scattered wrapping paper and rubbed your hips. “So, what are you going to do now?”

“I meant job-wise, but that sounds pretty good.” Bucky’s eyes were already screwed shut as you attacked his neck and started taking his pajamas off.

“Tell me what you want, baby.” You tugged his earlobe with your teeth, and his whole body erupted with goosebumps. “You can have anything you want–do whatever you want.”

Bucky tried to contain his groan as you swiveled your hips over his clothed erection. Of course, he knew immediately what he wanted to ask for–he hadn’t stopped thinking about it since the last time in the hallway.

“Bucky,” you smoothed out the worry line between his brows with a kiss. “I’m serious; whatever you want, just tell me.”

Bucky sat up, slowly undoing the buttons of your ridiculous pajama top. “I’ll tell you, but we don't have to if you don’t want to.”

You squirmed in his lap in excitement; he grabbed your hip hard to make you stop.

“Last time–” Bucky kissed your collar bone as he gently pushed the shirt off your shoulders. “We didn’t use a condom.”

You opened your eyes, looked slightly surprised, and Bucky blushed as he started to panic.

“I know it was a spur of the moment thing, but–”

“Yes.”

“What?” Bucky blinked a few times, his hands frozen at your sides.

“Yes, I want you–” you slowly rocked your hips against him. “It’s okay; I’m clean, you can’t get sick–and I’m on birth control.”

Some worry melted from Bucky’s face, quickly replaced by pure excitement. “Fuck, are you sure?” His sentence trailed off as he watched you stand up and slowly pull your pajama shorts down. He quickly pulled his own off to catch up with your state of undress.

You sat back down in his lap, wrapping your hand around his throbbing cock. “Please, Sarge? Wanna be your good girl.”

“Fucking hell,” Bucky muttered to himself, head tipped back before snapping it up and giving you the cocky look the role called for. “You’re my best girl, doll.”

You shivered as Bucky pushed you off his lap and onto your back. The crinkle of tissue paper filled the air as he maneuvered you into the position he wanted–one leg wrapped around his waist, the other around the back of his neck.

“You gonna take it like my best girl, huh?”

You arched your back, nodding urgently as Bucky teased the fat head of his cock across your folds. You hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the last time either. You both had been so rushed and frantic that neither of you fully appreciated the feeling of being so close. You hadn’t been able to fully appreciate Bucky claiming you in a way that no one else had.

“Are you with me, doll?” Bucky brushed your hair back, waiting for you to open your eyes again.

“Yes, please, I need it, Sarge.”

Bucky tried to prepare himself, but that first slide into your welcoming warmth was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. How had he not noticed this last time? How were you ten times warmer, wetter–he groaned when you clenched around him–tighter without the condom?

“Feel so good, baby girl, a fuckin’ dream,” Bucky grunted as he started to thrust as slowly as he could.

But you gripped him tightly, moaning for him to go faster, harder, deeper. You weren't joking about letting everyone within a hundred feet know who he belonged to. He didn’t have the resolve to go slow anymore; his hips moved at a frantic pace, greedily trying to wring even more pleasure out of your pliant body.

You whimpered each time his pelvis rubbed against your clit; he had awoken something in you–you felt out of control, feral. Your hips lifted quickly to meet every stroke he gave you. One hand clung to his shoulder while the otherr searched for purchase in the littered tissue, ribbons, and bows, desperate to ground yourself.

“Fuck, doll, you need this cock that bad, huh?”

You nodded, biting your lip to keep your mouth shut. You didn’t know what would come out anymore if you opened it.

“Talk to me–tell me how bad you need it, or I’ll stop.”

Your eyes widened, tears already pooling because stopping was absolutely not an option. Not when you were this close to an earth-shattering orgasm.

Bucky smirked at you before delivering a short, calculated thrust that had your eyes rolling back into your head.

“Fuck yes, right there, daddy, please, please don’t stop!”

Bucky groaned, forcing himself to keep going even though his body wanted to freeze in shock. “What did you just say?” He huffed, tilting your chin down to look into your glassy eyes.

Your mouth moved, no sound coming out for a second before you uttered the word again.

Daddy.

“Christ,” Bucky muttered, his jaw visibly clenching. “What’s gotten into you?”

You shook your head, eyes shut tight and your hand squeezing tightly around a piece of glittery pink wrapping paper. “Feels so good like this–” you lost the rest of your words as your world shattered around you, spreading glitter over Bucky’s back as you hung on for dear life.

Bucky grit his teeth, trying his best to hold out; he was far from done enjoying this new little kink he had unlocked. But you were squeezing him so tightly, moaning his name so prettily. And then–

“Come for me, daddy, please.”

The sweet little beg would have been enough to end him right there. But Bucky realized what this was, and his heart raced at the thought.

“Is that what you want, baby girl?” He leaned down to your ear, pushing your thigh up to get even deeper in you. “Want me to fill up this tight little cunt?”

The spasming of your walls around him was enough of an answer. And again, Bucky wondered how he hadn’t appreciated this the last time. The thought of coming inside you now stirred something in him, something primal; he didn’t have a choice anymore; this was what he needed. Images of you, pregnant and glowing with his child–he knew it wasn’t possible but fuck if it didn’t make him want to try.

“Gonna put a baby in you, doll–my best girl–fuck.”

You suddenly came again with a gasp. “Bucky–do it, baby, fill me up.”

Bucky ground his hips deeper, faster. You had never heard such filth spew from his lips as he lost himself in you. And you knew you had unleashed a monster; how could he ever go back?

“Pretty little pussy’s taking it so well–I’m so deep, baby girl, fuck–take it, fucking take it.”

Bucky swore he saw heaven when he finally came, so deep inside you, he knew it wouldn’t leak out. Not all of it. And the thought made his cock twitch before he even had a chance to go soft.

Your fingernails were digging into his skin, your breaths labored–he knew you were sensitive but he needed more.

“One more baby, please?” He damn near whimpered as he pulled out nearly all the way and fucked his come back into you slowly.

Your fingers ran through his hair and he groaned at the feeling.

“Want all your cum daddy, please.” Your voice was breathy, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Fuck,” Bucky reached behind him and grabbed a pillow off the chair to put under your hips.

His eyes were dark, his hands possessive, his thrusts punishing. Before he was frantic, this time, he knew exactly what he needed and exactly how to get there.

“I’ve got so much–so much cum for you baby girl,” Bucky moaned against your throat.

You squeezed his toned ass, pulling him closer to you. It felt as if his cock was in your throat and yet you still wanted more.

A loud bang came through the wall followed by Nicki’s voice telling you both to shut up. You started to laugh until Bucky angled his hips to rub against your overworked clit and your laugh turned into a hysteric gasping noise that stuck in your throat as you came.

“Good god, you’re so fucking wet,” Bucky groaned sitting up so he could watch himself fuck his cum back into you.

His dick was so hard it hurt…prickles of pain and pleasure shot up his spine as the feeling of your wet tight walls completely overwhelmed him. He wanted to live in that exact moment for the rest of his days, but he needed to fucking come. The tightness in his balls, and your sweet voice begging him to fill you up was becoming unbearable.

“Holy–oh christ I’m cumming–can’t stop–” Bucky’s words slurred together as he continued to fuck you as hard and sloppy as he could while his cock throbbed inside you.

“That’s it daddy, give me every drop.” You clenched around him rhythmically, trying to milk him for all he was worth.

Bucky’s face twisted as his dick became too sensitive. “Fuck, doll st–stop. Too much,” he groaned out. “Can’t stop cumming–it won’t stop, fuck!”

You stopped moving, staying completely still as he pressed as deep inside you as he could, cum still shooting from his sensitive pink tip. The mere fact that he was filling you with so much cum was prolong his extended orgasm–he was never going to get over this.

“Was that okay?” Bucky asked between breaths, still hovering over you, rocking his hips gently because he couldn’t bear to stop completely.

“Okay? That was fucking exquisite—I’ll be ready for round two after some breakfast. Think you can wait that long?” You teased, clenching around him.

Bucky groaned but laughed as he kissed you. “For you, I suppose.”

“Such a gentleman.”

Bucky pulled you up, carrying you to the bathroom. “I’ll make breakfast while you get cleaned up.”

“Waffles?”

“Anything you want.”

“Blueberry waffles.” You grinned and kissed his cheek before he sat you down and shut the bathroom door.

“Oh,” Bucky poked his head back into the bathroom. “And we are definitely talking about this daddy thing—don’t think you’re getting away with that.”

Bucky swore you blushed, a rare sight, before you pushed him out of the bathroom.

Don’t forget to reblog! 😉

*Tumblr is not letting me add links to the prev or next chapters. Please see the masterlist pinned to my page for the rest of the story!*

Taglist: @delaber @mannien @raindrcpsangel @cjand10

#rookthorne’s reactions #Lana’s loves #favourites favourites favourites #YEOTT

85 notes · View notes

lucytara · 4 years ago

Note

Yeah I get wanting some variation in your writing and whatnot. Hmm.

Gold. "I defy you. I defy your god. The laws of the universe said my love was gone from me. I said watch me save her." Bumbleby.

Have fun!

it’s possible. that i went. a little overboard with this prompt.

"I defy you. I defy your god. The laws of the universe said my love was gone from me. I said watch me save her."

All four candles are lit in the corners of the small room, wicks burning purple and melting black wax. Her offering sits in a dish at the feet of the small statue - an old, worn piece of paper, bent and torn around its edges - and she herself kneels in the center of the floor, her hands clasped.

“I’ve never done this,” she begins, “but my name is Yang Xiao Long, and I humbly request an audience.”

Nothing happens, though she isn’t sure what she would’ve expected even if it had; the flames flicker with her unsteady heartbeat, the blood in her ears crashing as if waves in a storm. For some reason it’s embarrassing, calling on a higher entity who decides to put you through to voicemail.

She tries again, and aims for theatrical exaggeration; maybe the gods like a bit of a show. If she’s making a fool of herself, she might as well do it brilliantly. “O, Great Goddess! I call upon thee - All-Knowing Ruler of the Dead, Empress of the Night, Most Holy Lady of Darkness, Reigning Queen of Entropy--”

“I think that’s probably enough,” a voice comes from in front of her, amusement evident beneath its tone. “What was that one in the middle? ‘Empress of the Night’? I might keep that.”

Her head whips up towards the sound, and a woman in a deep purple cloak is leaning against her own statue, arms crossed and watching her performance with a look that can only be described as shameless delight. Gorgeous black hair framing golden eyes, like the sky wrapping itself around stars; the statue doesn’t do her justice.

“Oh my God,” Yang says, sitting back on her heels. All the preparation and rehearsing she’d done isn’t enough to conquer the shock of a beautiful, unearthly woman appearing in front of her and--

“Yes, I get that a lot.”

--mercilessly mocking her.

“Well, Yang Xiao Long?” the woman continues. “Why have you called upon me?”

“How do you know my name?” Yang says stupidly.

“I’m a god,” the goddess replies, a smile pulling at a corner of her mouth. “I’m the all-knowing ruler of the dead or whatever. Also, you said your name when you summoned me.”

“Fuck,” Yang says, struggling to regain her composure and failing spectacularly. “I - yeah. Right. Okay. Is it rude to swear in front of gods? And what do I call you?”

“I’ll allow it,” the woman says. “And you can call me Blake.”

“Blake,” Yang repeats; her hands open and close like a nervous tick. The name is a heavy weight in her mouth, settling her into steadiness. “I’ve come to request guidance.”

“Guidance?” Blake repeats, and gently lifts the note from the offering dish, turning it carefully around her hands without opening it to read it - she doesn’t need to. Yang registers faint surprise in her expression; yes, she’d assumed the sentimentality would fetch a rather large price. “This is quite the payment.”

“It’s the last note I have from someone who loved me,” Yang says. “I figured it would be sufficient.”

Those bright, inquisitive eyes glance over to her, and now the playing field has been reversed: intrigue and curiosity outweigh Yang’s atrocious initial delivery.

“Stand, please,” Blake commands softly. “I want to get a good look at you.”

Obediently, Yang rises to her feet, and with an odd jolt realizes she’s a few inches taller than the goddess. It’s unexpected, and it seems to unnerve Blake for a moment, too. Or maybe that’s the candlelight, throwing shapes and colors, turning the room cavernous. Maybe Blake is shrinking and she’s growing. Maybe once she was so tall the entire world trembled beneath her feet.

“You already have power,” Blake says, circling her curiously, and now she’s seeing what isn’t visible, looking for handprints on her soul. “You have been claimed. Whom do you answer to?”

“I didn’t receive this power from a god,” Yang says quietly. “I’ve had it as long as I can remember.”

“That’s impossible,” Blake says, and her gaze is piercing into Yang’s heart; she sees its strength, but she sees its scars, too. And its emptiness. There is plenty of that.

“Touch me,” Yang says. “You’ll find no prior claim.”

“I don’t need to.” Blake takes another step closer to her, the way you’d inspect a painting in a museum. Hands at her sides, cautious of glass and rope. “I can see your aura. But it’s impossible.”

“I’m looking for something,” Yang says, and Blake glances up, briefly meeting her eyes. “I don’t know what it is. But I’ve been looking for something for what feels like my entire life.”

Quizzical, now. One by one the candles are burning down. The room is collapsing in on them, or perhaps that’s simply the god in front of her, looking like she’d dive into Yang’s veins and unravel her if it were permitted.

“Why me?” Blake asks finally. “You know what I’m the goddess of, don’t you?”

“You guard death,” Yang says, her voice impossibly gentle; dusk flows river-like from her mouth. There is a world Blake can almost see. “But you can’t guard death without also guarding life, right? I don’t know what I’m looking for, but whatever it is, I imagine you encompass it.”

“Poetic,” Blake responds, and waits further. “I would like the truth, please. Our time is running short.”

There’s no point in playing games with gods. “The truth is stupid,” Yang says bluntly, and the corner of Blake’s mouth tilts again.

“Try me.”

“I’ll make you a deal,” Yang says, and Blake’s eyebrows raise in amusement. Bold, reckless, and absolutely pushing her luck to the furthest corners it can inhabit. “Accept me as yours, and when the time is right, I will tell you the truth.”

“Is the truth that powerful?” Blake says, curious despite herself.

The last candle flutters, throwing shadows from Yang’s eyelashes to her cheek. “I think it is.”

“Welcome back, Empress of the Night,” Ruby says upon her return to the Kingdom, giving her an exaggerated bow. “I hope you enjoyed your summon, My Lady of Perpetual Darkness.”

“What the hell was that about?” Weiss asks. “I haven’t even heard you crack a joke for, like, a millennia, and suddenly you’re the court jester?”

“She was amusing,” Blake says, shrugging. “Usually people are so timid and terrified. I felt like having some fun.”

“You?” Weiss says dubiously.

“Shut up, Weiss,” Ruby says. “You mustn’t speak that way to Our Patron Saint, Duchess of Death.”

“Now you’re not even trying.”

“Don’t you both have work to do?” Blake says, ending the interrogation before it can really begin. She’s not sure she’d have the answers for them, anyway.

Yang journeys east.

Find me again, Blake had said. The closer you get to my temple, the more I can see of you. She’d brushed aside Yang’s bangs, touched a single finger to her forehead. It felt like a teardrop, or a meteor shower. It felt like digging up a grave, or chiseling into stone. It felt like the last explosion. It felt like the first breath.

You are mine, Blake had said, and something about it had felt far too right.

She crosses from Sanus to Anima, spends days traversing forests and mountains, fending off bandits and monsters. Eyes flashing red and fire licking up her skin. Aura glowing golden before breaking. There is something wrong with the trees, she thinks; there is something wrong with the sky. Like I’m looking at them from the wrong side.

Nobody is there to answer her, and not for the first time, she wonders how she came to be so alone.

Blake watches Yang’s power unveil itself from above. Yang is hers, now, and though she can’t make house calls to the world below without a summon, she at least has instant access to her claims. There aren’t many of them, and Yang is different.

It reminds her of the God of Vengeance, almost - how he absorbs power before returning it, strike by vicious strike - but Yang’s is personal, sacrificial. She feels the pain before she can utilize it, and her anger is never cruel, her actions never misplaced. And she doesn’t complain.

Sometimes, Blake wishes she would: she can hear when she’s being talked to, even if she can’t respond. Every prayer, every curse, every devastation, every hope.

She waits for the sound of Yang’s voice, but it never comes.

There’s a small shrine in a village called Shion, which is still weeks out from the docks where she can potentially get a ferry to Menagerie, but the locals are kind, and honor her far too greatly for being touched by their ruling god. They direct her to their place of worship deep in the woods, and leave her without looking back. It’s a sacred thing, a bond between a god and their chosen, and law forbids them from watching her ceremony.

Yang pulls the candle from her pouch, lighting it at the foot of the shrine. She kneels down on the stone, worn with the imprints of a thousand prayers, and says, “Blake.”

“I was wondering when I’d hear from you again.” The voice comes almost immediately, as if its owner had been waiting to be beckoned.

It’s still a bit of a shock, though she’s much better prepared for it this time. “Hi,” Yang says, and stops there before she can fuck it up.

“Hi,” Blake says, and seems to be amused against her will. More guarded, less open. Yang can read the warning signs, but she’ll cut them off at the source.

“I’m sorry,” she says, and she means it, getting to her feet. “If I waited too long to contact you, I mean. I’m...not familiar with this area.”

“Don’t worry,” Blake says, lowering her arms. “It’s only been a few weeks. I won’t smite you until at least a month.”

Yang laughs, and unexpectedly to the both of them, Blake goes deadly still. Her body language says Yang’s done something wrong, but her expression says she’s hearing music.

The candle is burning. The moment can turn itself over gently, if Yang knows how to guide it. She keeps her smile on, but makes it quiet. “You know, I didn’t expect the Goddess of Death to have a sense of humor.”

It seems to work. “I like to surprise people,” Blake says, and moves closer. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“You never talk to me,” she says, pretending to be in control of something she clearly isn’t. “Why not?”

Only the forest speaks for a moment, branches creaking, leaves rustling. And then: “Do you want me to?” Yang asks.

“It’s...something people tend to do,” Blake says slowly. “But not you.”

“I didn’t want to bother you,” Yang says.

“It’s not a bother.” The words come out too quickly, tone too reassuring. Blake’s own want is what laces the conversation, rather than Yang’s uncertainty. That’s a new, dangerous line.

Yang takes a careful step forward, her eyes lowered to the ground as if in apology; they raise slowly, trailing over Blake’s form until meeting her gaze. Looking for lines she’s crossed, and should step back over; searching for lights that say go. Instead, she only finds an intense, hungry confusion - I want it without understanding what it is.

“You know,” she murmurs, “these statues - they never do you justice.”

And she lifts a hand to Blake’s cheek, hesitating over her skin - is that Blake’s catch of breath, or is it the wind? - before gently cupping it in her palm. She could lose an arm for this; touching a god without being explicitly asked is the greatest sin a mortal can commit, but Blake only stands there, unmoving, eyes wide and lips parted, the moon sitting in the hollow of her throat.

“Blake,” she whispers, and it can only be a god’s strength keeping her voice steady, “I’m never not thinking of you.”

The candle goes out.

Nobody is waiting for her when she returns. This is how gods give each other gifts - by saying, no, I see everything but I didn’t see you.

Yang starts talking to her, and changes her routes so that rather than taking the most direct path to Menagerie, she’s able to stop at some of the smaller shrines on the way. There are only two more, and she hasn’t called Blake since Shion. Yang hopes she’ll still come.

“Isn’t it strange,” Yang says, “how much easier it is to think about someone than to talk about them? I think about you differently than I can talk about you. I don’t even know if that makes sense.”

No response; not that she expects one. At this point, she assumes Blake’ll just kill her if she gets too annoying. Maybe a tree will fall on her, or she’ll do something embarrassing like trip over a rock and break her neck. “I can’t remember much about my life. I know there were people I loved, but I can’t see their faces. I must’ve traveled a lot; I don’t like sitting still. I don’t know how old I am, or even when my birthday is.” She’s never admitted this before; never admitted she came to lying on the ground, with only her name left ringing in her skull and a note in her pocket.

“I think you’re beautiful,” she tells the warm night air. “That’s what I was trying to say. Before. Blake, I think you’re beautiful.”

A star shoots across the sky, light trails leaving imprints against the swirling blue-purple-black of the galaxy, but it must be a coincidence.

Another shrine, another candle. This one burrowed into the side of a mountain, a dome of a room with a hand-woven rug for kneeling, several long benches behind. The statue sits against the far wall, centered.

“They’re getting better,” Yang says, getting to her feet. “This one, at least, gets your eyes right.”

“Hm,” Blake says, pressing her lips together. She moves to stand next to Yang rather than in front of her, and they both examine the statue together. “I suppose you’d know, wouldn’t you?”

“Were the compliments too much?” Yang asks, impressed with how light her voice sounds. She nudges Blake’s elbow with her own. Oh, she’ll see how much distance she can cross. She’s already walked miles - she’ll swim oceans, too. “You said you wanted me to talk to you.”

“I didn’t say that,” Blake denies unconvincingly, and then pauses. “And in regards to your first question - I didn’t say that, either.”

Yang could tease her - so even gods like being called pretty, huh - or she could be brave, turn to Blake, take her face in both of her hands and lean in--

“Yang,” Blake says, and does step one of that plan by turning to her. “What do you want from me?”

Maybe the idea’s overwhelmed her to the degree that she can no longer see its risks - its potentially horrible, literally life-ending consequences - and that's what drives her to do it. Maybe it’s that Blake is looking at her like a poem; something beautiful, not to be understood by anyone but the artist who made her.

“What would you do if I kissed you?” Yang says, as if it were merely an interesting, hypothetical concept to explore and not the end of the world. “Is that possible, even if you wanted me to?”

This room is warm and close and silent. The clay is cracking where the floor meets the walls. A tunneled-through skylight is the only thing that keeps Blake from swallowing the place in shadows, instead coating them in an amber, dream-like glow. Like if you mixed the two of them together, you’d still be left with light.

“I think,” Blake murmurs, “we’re both going to have to find that out.”

Step two of her plan. Both of her hands cupping Blake’s cheeks. She’s strangely aware of her lifelines - do they mean anything to you, she wants to ask, does my life mean anything to you now and if it doesn’t, will my death - she leans in, their noses brushing, Blake’s breathing as if she needs to, Yang isn’t and she does; teach me about magic, teach me about memory, tell me how I knew you before I knew myself--

Blake kisses her, tired of her caution and hesitancy, lips parting and fists knotting around the fabric of her shirt. Yang expects them to crash together, like comets. She expects them to crumble and collapse under the impact, buried in the ruins of each other and suffocating. She expects them to decay there, reveling in their own destruction.

What she doesn’t expect is sunlight.

Her skin set aflame, Blake’s tongue in her mouth, hands traveling from her face to her lower back and pressing close - somewhere a rule is being written about the gods and desperation - Blake pulls away, gasps, her fingers begging for Yang’s heart.

“This power,” she says, mesmerized, staring at things only she can see, golden gossamer roots running up Yang’s veins. “Where did you get it?”

“I don’t know,” Yang breathes out, and kisses her one last time before the candle burns out. “But I swear I’ve never felt closer to finding out.”

Nobody attempts to stop her from barging through God’s door. Weiss and Ruby, Sun and Neptune; they all avert their eyes. I see everything, but I do not see you.

“What is she?” Blake asks, standing before them with her head bowed. “Please, God. I need to know.”

“If you weren’t already sure,” God says, “you wouldn’t be here.”

She hates it when they’re right.

Yang hits the docks; situated on the outskirts of a fishing village called Ito, and with constant transport to Menagerie, their shrine to Blake is the largest one yet.

“And this one?” Blake asks, before Yang has even begun to pray.

“How did you do that?” Yang says, staring up at her, startled. “Are we, like, super close now?”

“Shut up,” Blake says, but she’s smiling. She extends a hand, helping Yang to her feet. “Your soul calls me. You barely even have to light the candle, anymore.”

The sound of the ocean knocks on the door; the smell tackles the windows. Above, the seagulls are crying out, angry at all the fish they can’t have. Yang says, “Hi.”

“Hi,” Blake says, and kisses her. Soft and chaste. Something so human and so immortal. “I missed you.”

“I’m your favorite, aren’t I?” Yang teases, her fingers catching Blake’s chin in her hands.

“No,” Blake says, and for the first time, smiles with her teeth. Oh, this is happiness. “I do this with everyone who requests my presence. I’m very popular.”

“I can imagine,” Yang says, brushing a thumb across her bottom lip. “So what else are you the god of?”

“You had a few of them right,” Blake says nonchalantly, settling against Yang’s body. She could be taller, if she wanted to be, but there’s so much beauty to see when looking up. “Night, and all things within it. Darkness, shadows. Death.”

“What else?” Yang says, watching her mouth shape every letter.

“Forgiveness, and justice,” Blake murmurs. Oh, there’s a fine print for this, and she’s violating every word. “Promises,” she continues. “Seduction.”

Hook, line - a heavy wave rattles the walls; oh, the sea, the sea! - Yang shudders against her mouth, salt sinking into her blood. Leaves her bouyant and floating, the earth bubbling up beneath her. Rising and rising and rising.

“Shockingly,” Yang says, letting Blake press kisses into the crook of her neck, “I don’t find that hard to believe.”

“God,” Blake finds herself standing before them once again, hands clasped and head bowed. She speaks formally in the presence of God, as is customary of respect. “Please, God. I am supposed to be guiding her, but I fear all I’ve done is lead her astray. I need to know where she came from, and where she is going.”

“Blake,” God says, and touches the top of her head with their hand, “she is close to your temple. Look at her, and tell me what you see.”

Menagerie is a busy, populated island, and Blake’s temple is the primary reason for that. Pilgrimages are made from around the world to pray at her shrine and leave offerings at her feet. Protect me from loss, help me navigate my grief, let me fulfill my promise.

Yang is none of those things. And when the keepers of the temple ask the reason for her journey, she says, “I am in love with her.”

“You have been touched,” one says, and bows to her upon entry. “You have as long as the goddess is willing to give you.”

The heavy doors close, but the room shimmers, firelight glittering over golden-accented walls. A large moon is carved into the marble floor, crossing over a sun. Before her is the largest, most intricately carved statue of Blake she’s ever seen, and it looks exactly like her.

Yang kneels.

“You know,” Blake says from behind her, “you don’t have to do that anymore.”

“No,” Yang says. “But it - it’s been a long journey. And I’m only here because of you.”

Blake’s footsteps echo, her boots stopping at the north point of the sun. “How do you feel?”

It’s enough to make Yang smile. “I know you heard me,” she says pointedly, but her amusement is apparent. “You hear everything I say.”

“I thought I’d give you the chance to tell me yourself.”

For the last time, Yang rises to her feet. Blake’s eyes glitter, mischievous and playful. She looks as she always has, but clearer, somehow; defined and resolute. She carries the truth in the way she extends a hand, in the way she searches for Yang’s mouth. When they kiss, Yang swears she can see another world.

“I’ll tell you something better,” Yang says. “The truth.”

She leans down, bumps their foreheads together. Blake’s arms loop around her neck automatically. Oh, Yang thinks, if I were the god of anything, I’d want it to be habits.

“So what’s the truth?” Blake asks.

“The truth,” Yang says unshakably, “is that it was you. I woke up with no memory and a note, and somehow, I knew I had to find you. The only thing I’ve been searching for is you.”

It’s you, she says. It’s you. You. You.

“God,” Blake says, and this time God is ready for her.

“Blake Belladonna,” God says, and inclines their head. “Come. Show me what you have.”

In her hands is a small slip of paper, worn and ripped around the edges. “It is a note,” she says, and unfolds it gingerly. “It is a note, God, in my handwriting.”

“And what does it say?” they ask.

“Find me,” Blake recites, “and I promise I’ll bring you home.”

“Well,” God says whimsically, “you are the Goddess of Promises.”

Tears build in the corners of her eyes, shipwrecks gaining water. “Yang,” Blake whispers, and now that she is close, she can see everything. Meteors falling from their showers; the day the sun went out. “Yang. I’m sorry. I’m so, so--”

“Shh,” Yang murmurs, pressing her lips into Blake’s hair. “What are you apologizing for? I found you, and you brought me home.”

“Oh, this is exciting,” God says. “I so rarely get to come to Remnant on business.”

“God,” Yang says, and bows her head. The temple doors remain locked; Blake’s hand is clutched tightly in her own. “It’s good to see you.”

“And you, Yang Xiao Long,” says God. “You fell in the last war, over five-hundred years ago. Do you remember this?”

“Yes,” she says. “I was trying to protect my sister.”

“And what happens when a god falls?”

“We forget them,” Blake says. “Their power is forfeit; they are erased from our memories, and our world.”

“It is not a law of justice, but a law of reality,” God says. “Or it was, previously. Only you did not forget immediately, Blake Belladonna. I did not know it was possible for two souls to be so intrinsically bound that they leave traces in the other, but you did not forget, just long enough to leave her a message. It took five hundred years for Yang to fall to earth, and when she awoke, she did not forget, either.

“Gods are made, and this means that what we are gods of can change,” they continue. “Blake, you were not previously the Goddess of Death. You became it because you believed that Yang had died, and no god had as strong a connection to loss as you. Your power became a beacon, just as it now will be a beacon for Remembrance.

“And you, Yang Xiao Long,” God says. “Goddess of the Sun, of Loyalty, of Sacrifice. You were many things. And now you are the Goddess of Rebirth.”

#Anonymous #bumbleby #rwby fic prompts #rwby fic

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bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher · 4 years ago

Text

Take Me, I’m Yours

(the highest voted options on the poll were ‘Geralt rescues Jaskier from trouble’ and ‘Jaskier riles the Captain up in public’ so I teamed up with the ever-marvelous, stupendously talented @limrx to bring you this Swashbuckling AU oneshot/art piece featuring a horribly jealous Geralt and a frisky, flirty Jaskier)

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“Do you think he likes me back?” Jaskier asked. He leaned over the ship’s railing to look more closely at the dolphin following behind them. Lambert didn’t think he’d fall overboard but it would be kind of funny if he did. The strange young nobleman did have a way of always landing on his feet, though.

“I know he does.”

“Well how come he hasn’t told me anything about it, then?”

“You’ve met the Captain, right? About this tall, long white hair, weird yellow eyes, emotionally incompetant?”

“You have a good point. Should I just confront him about it?”

“Yeah, sure.” Lambert rolled his eyes before shooting Jaskier a pointed look. “If you want to send your ransom note back to Lettenhove the following morning.”

“Fuck. I just want to kiss him, Lambert. Regularly. I want to know if he snores or not. I want to lay on the deck beneath the stars and talk to him like we’re friends and not just pirate and pseudo-pirate-captive. I really want to see what his ass looks like under those godsforsaken trousers, Lambert, it’s killing me not knowing.”

“You’re more insatiable than a siren during the rainy season,” the second mate teased. “But with fewer teeth.”

“Shut up.”

“Are you going ashore when we lay anchor?”

“Am I allowed?”

“I assume you’ll be allowed. You’re practically part of the crew. You’ve been aboard for nearly two weeks and you’ve pulled your fair share of the weight, if not moreso.”

“Why thank you, Lambert. I appreciate you noticing.”

“Of course, Jaskier. You may be an utter fool and a fop to boot, but at least you’re a hard worker.”

“Asshole.”

“Mhm.”

They both watched the dolphins for a minute in silence before Jaskier’s face split into the most heinous and dastardly grin. It filled Lambert with an unmistakable sense of fear and worry. “I have a brilliant idea. I know how to get Geralt to admit his feelings.”

“No, absolutely not. I am not getting roped into this, you horrible little minx. Don’t give me that look! I won’t help you this time!”

“But Lamby-bert,” Jaskier whined. “If he has someone to take all his frustrations out on in bed then I’m sure it’ll be easier to negotiate for higher shares next time we take a vessel.”

Lambert did not miss the fact that Jaskier said ‘we’ when referring to the crew. The second mate knew the little nobleman was here to stay; it had been clear that Jaskier would be sticking around from the moment Geralt first laid eyes (and hands) on him. The Captain hadn’t stopped looking out for the lad since. Lambert wasn’t even going to think about that singular flirty kiss atop the mainmast nearly a week and a half ago. Geralt had been pining after the acrobatic little idiot ever since and making absolutely no move to flirt back. It was driving the crew absolutely crazy. “Alright, you devilish siren. I’m in.”

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

Jaskier cleaned up nice.

And he deserved to clean up nice. He’d worked hard to put this outfit together. Billy had lent him a pair of dark blue breeches in return for Jaskier’s help with mending the mainsail. The shirt he was wearing was half a size too big, which was exactly big enough for the neckline to plunge even lower than he usually wore it. This way it revealed more of his toned (and rather hirsute) chest. He’d borrowed it from Starkey, who was the same height as him but who had much broader shoulders.

The Captain was going to absolutely die when he saw Jaskier.

He whistled a rather naughty shanty as he exited the bunk room and made his way towards the gangplank where Starkey, Lambert, and Eskel were waiting for him. He spun in a quick circle, arms out to show off his clothes. Lambert and Starkey whistled appreciatively and Eskel hid his face in the palm of his hand. “Ready, boys?”

“Absolutely not,” Starkey smiled. The first mate standing next to him tilted his head back to look at the sky, sighing deeply.

“Are you sure about this? What if the Captain tries to kill Lambert?”

“He won’t be killing anyone. Hopefully. If he does run his sword through anyone, it will most likely be me,” Jaskier joked. “Now, this is my first time drinking with real pirates. Anything I should know?”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Eskel suggested. Lambert bit back a laugh and Starkey snorted.

“Impossible.”

“Well then, let’s go.”

The four men made their way down onto the docks and through the sparse crowd of sailors and merchants still mingling in the evening light. Starkey led them to a decent tavern and found a vacant corner table, which gave them an excellent view of the door.

Geralt and Starkey had spent the morning selling their stolen cargo to various merchants, shopkeepers, and artisans. The Captain had divided up the gold between his crew according to their various contracts and Jaskier, more as a jest than anything else, was given two crowns as well. “For not dying,” Geralt had intoned seriously. The men were amused but Jaskier’s face had gone bright red with embarrassment. The young noble had talked them out of trouble with the Skelligan patrols twice last week and Geralt was repaying him with public humiliation? Lambert knew that the Captain’s earlier actions were about to make this evening a lot more entertaining (if slightly uncomfortable) and he was ready to get this show on the road. He flung an arm around Jaskier’s waist and ordered them all a round of ales.

“So everyone knows what the general goal here is, right?” Jaskier clarified.

“Yes,” Eskel nodded. “You’re using Geralt’s jealous nature to make him act on his less than subtle feelings for you.”

“Correct. Wonderful.”

Lambert squeezed the noble’s hip through his borrowed pants and Jaskier huffed indignantly in reply. Starkey chuckled softly at their antics and winked at the barmaid when she brought them their drinks. “Can’t wait, really. It’s been so boring lately and the last two ships we took didn’t even fight back. This is drama. This is entertainment!”

“Shut up, Starkey,” Jaskier pouted. He leaned back into Lambert’s embrace and gulped down half his ale.

“Slow down, kid,” the first mate teased. “Or you will be drunk when he gets here and your plan won’t work.”

“I need to get the pink in my cheeks or I’ll look suspicious,” Jaskier argued. “One ale should do it without getting me tipsy. Maybe two if it’s weak.”

“Method actors,” Lambert rolled his eyes.

Jaskier was sipping slowly at his second ale and the other three pirates were on their fourth or fifth when Geralt finally came barreling through the tavern door. “There you are!” Eskel shouted, waving the Captain over. Nobody missed the barely-hidden glare Geralt aimed at Lambert’s arm where it rested against the nobleman’s lower back.

“Captain,” the second mate nodded.

“Lambert. Eskel. Starkey.” Geralt greeted them all in turn.

“Heyyyy,” Jaskier whined, leaning forward against the edge of the table and pouting. “What about me, sir?”

“You.”

“Rude,” the brunette huffed. Lambert ran a lazy hand up and down his spine and Jaskier watched as Geralt’s eyes narrowed into slits. He sighed sadly and melodramatically into his mug and nodded once in the second mate’s direction. “Thank you, darling. At least someone in this crew likes me.”

Starkey saw Geralt’s eyelid twitch and slid Eskel two crowns under the table to settle their bet. He thought the vein on their Captain’s throat would show up before the eyelid went, but it must have been the first mate’s lucky night this time around. “Hey Eskel, let’s see if any of the lovely ladies here want to dance with us, eh?”

“You coming, Captain?” Eskel asked. “Seems like Jaskier and Lambert are a bit busy.”

“Yes, Geralt,” Jaskier egged him on. The Captain had a white-knuckled grip on the handle of his mug. The noble took a long swig of ale and licked a bit of foam from his lip when he was finished, noting the way Geralt’s eyes locked onto his mouth. “Why not go dance with a pretty lady. Certainly nobody else has your attention.”

The pirate Captain finally snapped. He slammed his mug down and reached around the table to grab Jaskier around the waist. He hauled him out of the second mate’s grip and onto his feet. “Captain, what are yo-”

“Yer coming with me, siren,” Geralt snarled. Lambert relinquished the nobleman with very little fuss, winking at Jaskier as the pirate Captain swung him up and over his broad shoulder. The young man flashed all three of his co-conspirators a thumbs up as he was carried out of the tavern like a sack of potatoes.

“A little rude to Lambert, don’t you think, sir?” he asked, resting his elbow against Geralt’s shoulder blade and settling his chin onto his hand. He crossed his ankles to make it easier for the pirate to balance his weight comfortably. “But they’ll be happy to know that our little plan worked out.”

Geralt stopped in his tracks but did not set his captive down. “Your what?”

“Our plan,” Jaskier explained as if bored. “To get you to finally do something about all this sexual tension between us. I kissed you on the mouth for fuck’s sake.”

“I thought it was an accident.”

“Oh, and saving you from hanging at the hands of some Skelligan officers, was that an accident? Not sending a ransom note last time we stopped for water and not turning you in for the reward in Novigrad, were those accidents too? There is a hefty bounty on your head, White Wolf, and I could be living independently in a castle somewhere right now except that I happen to find you endlessly attractive and fascinating.”

“Hmm.” Geralt resumed walking. Jaskier noticed with a smirk that his pace had picked up quite a bit. As if he was suddenly in a hurry to be somewhere.

“Hum dismissively all you like, sir, but you’re still carrying me back to your cabin to ravish me senseless, are you not?”

“Ravish may be the wrong word for what I’d like to do to you, but you do look rather tempting.”

“Thank you. I put a lot of effort into this ensemble.”

“You’re a calculating little nymph, aren’t you?”

“No, of course not. I only managed to secure a bunk aboard the Kaer Morhen and wrap its infamous captain around my finger in less than a month. I am but a silly nobleman with excellent dexterity and a penchant for climbing.”

“Lambert was right to call you a minx.”

“He does love that nickname.”

“It’s not an endearment.”

“Whatever.” The ground shifted and Jaskier knew they were making their way up the gangplank and back onto the ship. This was the part he’d been waiting for! Geralt kicked in his cabin door and stepped inside, turning to close and lock it behind them. Jaskier wriggled impatiently. “Set me down!”

“Hmm, no. I rather like the view from here.”

“Excuse me?”

Geralt gave him a gentle smack on the ass, almost a pat really, and huffed out a laugh at Jaskier’s offended noise. “You’ve been an awful lot of trouble for a nobleman and a captive.”

“I’m barely a captive, Geralt. Give it up already.”

“You haven’t signed the book.” He set Jaskier back on his feet and looped his arms around the younger man’s waist to pull him close. “You’re still a captive until you swear on the book and sign your name next to the others. Then you’ll be part of my crew.”

“I have yet to negotiate for my shares,” the brunette stated. He tilted his chin back, baring his neck slightly and offering Geralt his ale-damp lips. “Ten crowns after every capture and I get to sleep in here with you. That sounds fair.”

“You’re a good worker. Seven crowns, you can sleep in here with me, and you can borrow my bandannas whenever you want.”

“Even the red one?”

“Especially the red one.”

Jaskier’s soft pink mouth brushed against the pirate’s as he murmured his answer: “Deal.”

Geralt’s lips crashed against Jaskier’s with the strength of a wave hitting the side of his ship in a maelstrom. The Captain’s mouth was so warm and his lips moved against the younger man’s with almost frightening determination. As if he was trying to prove himself. His arms were strong around the nobleman’s lower back and his white hair brushed deliciously against the skin of Jaskier’s neck.

“You’ve bewitched me, body and soul.”

“Oh, Geralt,” the younger man sighed, opening his mouth to let the other in. I never thought the word ‘plunder’ could apply to kissing but here I stand, corrected by experience yet again. The White Wolf of the Seven Seas pulled away, made breathless by a young and foolish nobleman in search of adventure.

“I’m not a siren, you know. Not even a little. My family’s estate is landlocked.”

Geralt’s fingers rose from his waist and brushed against his cheekbone reverently. Those amber eyes, so cold and focused when he shouted orders or intimidated a merchant captain, were looking down at Jaskier with such devoted tenderness. The ex-noble felt his heart fill anew and double in size. There wasn’t enough room in his body to hold all of this feeling.

“Kiss me again, Captain. Take me to bed.”

“You’re too good at tempting me. You must be evil.”

“I assure you,” Jaskier smirked, ripping Geralt’s shirt over his head in one smooth movement. “I am.”

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live-the-fangirl-life · 3 years ago

Note

fixing their jacket collar or hood for anyone :) congratulations on 700 again and i hope u have the loveliest of lovely days

You Better Beleaf It

Elide Lochan x Lorcan Salvaterre - Autumn Leaves

Elide drags Lorcan out to look at the changing leaves. He’ll deny it if you ask, but he enjoyed himself.

I know it took me a while to answer this but I thought it'd be a perfect little autumn fic 🍁 I hope you enjoy it!

Masterlist | Read on Ao3 | Halloween Collection

Warnings: Language

1898 words

*******

“Remind me again why we’re out here?” Lorcan drawled from beside her.

Elide rolled her eyes but continued to take pictures of the trees.

They’d both had the day off and she insisted they drive over to the nature reserve to look at the changing leaves. They’d parked on the side of a quiet road and had spent the last twenty minutes enjoying the views and the breeze.

She knew that as much as he was complaining, her boyfriend was just as happy to be out here with her. Okay, maybe not as happy, Autumn was her favorite season after all and she would admit that maybe, possibly she something went a little overboard in her obsession with the season.

But how could she not love the way all the coffee shops started smelling like pumpkin and caramel, or how she could wear her (and Lorcan’s) flannel and leather as much as she wanted, or how the leaves on the trees became such beautiful, bright colors.

Not to mention being able to deck their entire apartment out in Halloween décor. She’d lost count of how many bats, pumpkins, and ghosts now littered their walls and rooms.

And a lot of it was black, so Lorcan felt right at home.

“We’re out here,” she told him again, “because the leaves are changing color and it’s a beautiful day.”

He rolled his eyes but kept her hand snug in his. “But why are you taking so many pictures?” he asked as she lifted her phone to get a better angle of a canopy of trees. He waved his free hand around at the leaves. “This happens every year, are your thousands of pictures today going to look different form the thousands you took last year? Or yesterday?”

Elide halted and used her grip on Lorcan’s hand to pull him to a stop. “First of all, its magical so shut up.” She ginned as he loosed a long-suffering sigh. “Second of all,” she pressed herself closer to Lorcan and spun the phone around as she reached out a hand and attempted to take a selfie of the two of them, “it is different because this particular picture isn’t in my batch from last year. Or yesterday.”

She flicked through her phone to see the photo she just took and frowned.

“What?” Lorcan asked, stepping behind her to rest his chin on top of her head. “not up to your postable standards?”

She laughed and leaned farther back into his warm chest. “Look at it,” she showed him the photo. “The top of your head is cut off and the part of your face that I can see is frowning. And the lighting wasn’t great.”

She felt more than heard his chest rumble as he chuckled. “That’s what happens, El, when you try to use your tiny arm to get us both in the photo.”

She huffed and pressed her phone into his hand. “It’s not my fault you’re a giant.”

“No,” he brought his mouth down towards her ear and she shivered as his breath caressed her skin. “But you love it.” She could feel him smirking.

She was grinning but squeezed his arms as she said, “I’d love it even more you used your obscenely long arms to take a picture of the two of us.”

Lorcan nipped at her ear but took the phone from her and opened the camera. He took a sweet photo of the two of them, Elide pressed against his chest with one arm wrapped around her and the other holding the phone, with the brilliant reds and golds of the leaves behind them.

“Come on, Lor, smile for the camera!” She watched him roll his eyes through the camera screen, but his lips lifted to form a small half-smile. He clicked the button a few more times.

Just as Elide was ready to take her phone back, she caught a wicked gleam in his eye. She narrowed her eyes, but he’d already used his grip around her waist to hoist her in the air and up into his arms. She squealed at the sudden movement and felt him laugh at her reaction. She wrapped her arms around his neck as she sheard the click of her phone again.

Lorcan grinned as he set her back on her feet and handed her the phone.

“Babe, these are perfect,” she beamed before gripping the front of his shirt and pulling him into a kiss.

“Good,” he muttered while draping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her into his side. “Now can we just walk without taking a picture every two steps?”

Elide rolled her eyes but wrapped her arm around Lorcan's waist and letting her hand slide into his back pocket. “I’ll put it away for now, but I won’t promise I won’t be taking any more.”

They followed the pavement until it ended, then continued through the grass-covered path. The sun was moving across the sky and beams of sunlight filtered through the colorful leaves. At one point, Lorcan helped her over a particular tall log before they found a stream weaving through the reserve.

“Hang on a minute, I want to wash some of this gunk off my hands.” She told him as she approached the water. She’d tried pushing a branch out of her way only to get a handful of wet mud probably left by some animal scampering up the tree.

Elide quickly rinsed her hands off, hissing at how icy the water felt. As hastily as she could, she plucked her hands out and dried them on her sweater.

Unfortunately, the frigid water only made her realize how chilly the evening had become. She and Lorcan had been walking long enough that the sun was starting to set, and the wind had picked up, leaving her still-damp hands to freeze.

Lorcan was sitting on the edge of a large rock and looked up from his phone as she walked back towards him. “Better?”

“Mhmm.” She agreed, stepping in between his spread legs. “But I think we should head back.”

He smirked and gripped her hips, pulling her closer. “Oh really? Have you finally had enough of the trees?”

“Don’t mock me.” She glared at him, but it lacked any real anger. An involuntary shiver racked through her body and she clenched her teeth as she said, “It’s cold, let's go back. It’s gonna take us a while to walk to the car.”

She made to step out of his grip, but he held her tighter, frowning as she kept shivering. His hands left her hips and started rubbing up and down her arms, trying to help her warm up. “Why didn’t you say anything? We could’ve turned back a while ago.”

She reached up and brushed a finger over the furrowed skin at his brow, loving the feeling of his large hands roaming over her body. “I didn’t notice it before.” She said, rolling her eyes.

He pulled his phone out and glanced at the clock. His frown deepened. “We’ve got at least an hour of walking if we don’t stop for anymore pictures.” He told her and raised a brow in question.

She huffed but nodded. “Fine, no more pictures.”

Lorcan put his phone back in his pocket and chuckled. “You’re the one who’s cold, if you want to stop it’ll just take longer to get back to the car.”

She hummed in agreement. “I’m looking forward to those heated seats.”

He flashed her a small grin before nudging her backward so he could stand from the rock. The second his hands left her body, she started shivering again which only brought Lorcan’s frown back in full force.

“Here.” He unzipped and shrugged off his jacket and before she could protest and swung it around to hang off her shoulders.

“Lor, I don’t want to take your jacket.” She protested, but it came out weak as she already felt the warmth seep back into her.

He raised a brow and his lips quirked up at her half-assed refusal. “I think I can survive the chill,” he held the coat as she maneuvered each of her arms into the far-too-long sleeves. “You, on the other hand, are already shaking so hard I can hear your teeth chattering.”

Lorcan waited until she got the jacket zipped before helping her roll up the sleeves. It was almost comical how much longer his arms were then here, and she told him as much. He just rolled his eyes.

Finally, his hands traced up her arms and over her shoulders to flip down the collar of the jacket that had gotten rumpled.

Lorcan met her stare, his hands still clutching the edges of the collar, and used his grip to pull her closer towards him. Their lips crashed together and Elide moved her hands to wrap around his middle, pulling him flush against her.

One of his hands moved to her hair, weaving his fingers through it to help tilt her head to a better angle. Her hands came to rest of his ass and he smirked into the kiss as she gave a squeeze.

He laughed as he pulled away, resting his forehead against hers. “Really, Lochan?”

Elide grinned and squeezed again. “Get me back home and I’ll let you do more than that to me.” She winked as his smirk widened.

“You think you can wait that long?” he snaked a hand down her back until it rested over her ass. She opened her mouth to reply but he brought his hand down in a light slap that made her choke on her words. He grinned even wider.

She pulled away and smirked as she held out her hand for him. “Come on, Salvaterre. Before I freeze and you end up with an icicle for a girlfriend.”

Lorcan huffed a laugh but grabbed her hand and pulled her back into his side as they started to walk towards their car.

“An icicle would spend less time taking pictures.” He teased.

She gasped. “I’m going to do you a favor and pretend you didn’t say that.”

Once they got back on the paved path Lorcan asked, “So, did the leaves live up to your expectations? Or do I have another scenic tour to dread.”

“Oh hush,” she poked his stomach. “don’t pretend like you didn’t have a good time. You can tell everyone else that you spent the afternoon brooding as your girlfriend selfishly dragged you through a horrendous afternoon,” she rolled her eyes, “but I have proof that you enjoyed yourself.”

“Proof? Is that right?” he raised a brow but grinned down at her.

“See!” She pointed at his grin. “That right there. I have proof of that.”

Lorcan grunted but squeezed her a little tighter. “Oh?”

Elide patted the pocket of her—Lorcan’s—jacket that held her phone. “I have photographic evidence that the mean, grumpy, brutish Lorcan Salvaterre,’ she paused dramatically, “smiles.”

He shook his head and laughed at her excited grin.

“Not only that,” she went on, “but proof that he had fun while looking at autumn leaves.” She gasped mockingly.

“Ha ha.” he deadpanned. “You’re hilarious.”

Her grin turned feline, and her eyes twinkled before she said, “You better beleaf it.”

His groan and her laughter echoed through the trees as they finally got back to their car.

*****

Taglist:

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#elorcan #elide #lorcan #elide lochan #lorcan salvaterre #elide lochan x lorcan salvaterre #elide and lorcan #lorcan and elide #elide x lorcan #lorcan x elide #elorcan fluff #elorcan fic #elorcan au #halloween #fall #autumn #leaves #throne of glass #tog

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ddarker-dreams · 4 years ago

Note

How do all the other stands feel ab sr? I’m sure they all somewhat get along, right?

i’ve been wanting to give a longer, traditional hc style post about this!! since you’ve asked it’s the perfect opportunity to express my thoughts on it. it’s more of a combination of SR with the user and their stand, i hope that’s okay hjrktme

Bruno Bucciarati;

Sticky Fingers is the first Stand from Bucciarati’s group that you got to see! So there’s a special place in your heart for it. By extension, Bruno was the first person to see Scarlet Ribbons. SR was very inquisitive during their initial meeting, since it’s the first time she ever saw a Stand other than herself. She was looking around a lot, and lowkey wondering where are this things bows at??

Though Stand powers wildly vary from one another, Bruno was able to give you a general explanation of what to expect from SR. He didn’t want to go too overboard with advice because he feels a natural fighting style stemming from your own abilities/instinct is best, especially since your Stand is created from your soul. He basically just told you to go with your gut, which at the time felt a bit frustrating... it turned out to be good advice though!

Sticky Fingers and SR have almost opposite abilities in a way? SR can close up gaps whereas Sticky Fingers opens them up. It’s not uncommon that when you and Bruno are chatting, that your respective Stands are just kinda messing around in the distance. Sticky Fingers likes making zippers in walls, and SR tries to see if she can close them with ribbons... it doesn’t work like that, but it’s kinda endearing to see them interact with one another lmao.

Giorno Giovanna;

It’s gonna be super cute okay. Giorno in general might give the impression of knowing what he’s doing when it comes to romance, but he really is just winging it and kinda going ??? the entire time. Meanwhile, Gold Experience is going ham with SR, pulling all the stops to impress her (and you, by extension). His Stand makes flowers of a striking red color, trying to match the shade of SR’s ribbons!! Mostly poppies, tulips, and occasionally roses.

Giorno is kinda curious how SR seems to be out a lot of the time, he’s thinking should I do the same thing with GE...? You’ll be doing exercises, and SR is there bringing a water bottle over to you. Or when you’re cooking, SR is hovering over your shoulder wanting to help out as well. She’s just almost always around, even if only in the background to explore her surroundings. It makes Giorno let GE out more often, subconsciously.

He does ask you about it once, and you just kinda shrug and say SR likes the freedom to do as she pleases. Since she isn’t rambunctious like Pistols, you don’t see the harm in letting her roam around.

Gold Experience wants to try making ribbons, but the best it can do is creating ribbon eels. It’s not quite the same, but it’s a solid effort. Giorno just has to stop GE from putting the ribbon eel on his head in the same way SR has a ribbon on hers. Mista was around to witness this historical event, and no, he does not intend on letting Giorno live it down. Giorno’s grateful he stopped it from actually happening though.

Guido Mista;

Let’s just say your Stands together can be pretty chaotic. The first time you met Mista, and he realized you were a Stand user like himself, he had a very pressing question. When you showed him SR, he looked at it for a moment, as if in deep thought.

“D-does... yours talk too?”

Mista passed Polpo’s test only to be gifted talented, albeit troublesome little gremlins. Before he realized giving Pistols food is a reliable method of calming them down, it was a war zone. One of the mornings where the two of you had to do some standard protection fee collection, he looked like a borderline zombie. Lamenting that the Pistols refused to let him sleep, and asked if you’d please use SR to cover their mouths lmao. They were protesting the entire time, trying to convince you not to do it.

When Number Five starts crying, SR makes a little ribbon to put on his head!! It’s super cute and Mista’s heart is just leaping in his chest. Then, of course, all the other Pistols want one bc equal attention!! When the two of you aren’t paying solid attention to your Stands, you’ll sometimes spot SR testing how many accessories she can fit on the tiny Pistols. It isn’t a lot but they’re insistent on trying.

Pistols are always trying to get SR to do crazy stunts for their entertainment. Eventually, you had to lock your refrigerator with her ribbons to prevent the Pistols from stealing your food. But when you’re busy, the Pistols keep trying to convince SR to undo them so they can snack. She actually felt bad for them once, released the restriction, and the Pistols went to town on your leftovers. : (

Mista felt pity for you though and offered to take you out to get more food!! So it all worked out for his benefit in the end. The Pistols do not take issue in reminding him of this as well, saying that they’re the reason he got to go on a date with you. :’ )

Pannacotta Fugo;

He remained fiercely adamant on keeping Purple Haze from you for the longest time. Fugo hates how his Stand practically comes out of its own autonomy whenever you’re in the vicinity, wanting to get a closer look at you. There have been a lot of close calls when you first got to know when another, leading to Fugo abruptly leaving in conversations.

Your Stands get along well once Fugo feels comfortable enough to let Purple Haze out around you. Since SR is a long ranged Stand, she can do her cute ribbon tricks from a distance outside of the virus’ range!! Though she has a habit of trying to get closer, just out of curiosity. Fugo gets freaked out when this happens though, so she waits until he’s distracted with talking to you (a little genius)!

Purple Haze makes the biggest puppy dog eyes at SR, which humiliates Fugo to no end. He gives his Stand intense talks when you’re not around, telling him to keep it cool, he doesn’t want you thinking he’s an idiot. But as soon as he even mentions SR, Purple Haze gets all thrilled and is like !!! So it’s ultimately counterproductive. Fugo just hopes you don’t put two and two together, over why his soul likes yours so much. It’s his daily prayer...

Fugo has an embarrassing habit of doodling ribbons on stuff he’s working on, when he starts zoning out. When he realizes what it is he’s doing he gets flustered about it, cursing underneath his breath and hoping that you don’t happen to come by and notice. Unfortunately for him, as SR likes to see what everyone is up to, she came over and saw what he was doing. After putting two and two together, she gave him a nod and a thumbs up on his doodles. Didn’t snitch to you though, so the two of them have a mutual understanding. :’)

Narancia Ghirga;

He wants so badly to impress you with Aerosmith. Narancia will whip his Stand out in your presence at any given opportunity, having it do a few flips and tricks more than necessary. Then he stares over to see what you and SR think about it... she once clapped in Aerosmith’s honor. It was all Narancia could think about for the rest of the day.

The two Stands typically just play around with one another. Aerosmith likes to make little ribbon shaped clouds, and SR attempts making a plane shape out of her ribbons. It’s not quite the same, but she’s trying!! Narancia finds it adorable, and tries to make requests of shapes and stuff for her to make. SR does her best to fulfill the requests, concentrating hard on the task!!

Since SR enjoys making hair accessories, she’s tried to make a bandanna similar to Narancia’s for you. Though she ultimately scrapped the idea, giving you a disapproving look and fastening it back into the normal bow it normally is lmao. When you mentioned this behavior to Narancia he was like wait, what?? Lemme see! But if SR doesn’t find something fashionable, she doesn’t have any intention on doing it again. So he’s outta luck...

It doesn’t stop him from asking about it. He just can’t believe that your Stand thought about him when he wasn’t around!! It touched him in a way he never knew possible. It’s also a bit of a relief since you’re often the subject of his thoughts.

Leone Abbacchio;

Similar in a sense to Fugo, where he didn’t want Moody Blues around you that much at first. He takes a much more serious approach to his Stand than others, since it’s deeply rooted in his past trauma. It’d actually be one of the few moments he might snap at you, should you ask to see his Stand one too many times. Not out of malicious intent, he’s just... very disillusioned with Moody Blues at first.

You two had a job which required some investigative work, the client having seemingly disappeared with some goods that belonged to Passione. Figuring out what happened with the merchandise was essentially child’s play for Moody Blues, a replay showing the full extent of the events. Abbacchio wasn’t keen on showing you his Stand, but it couldn’t be helped any longer.

Unlike the others who tended to pester him on the extent of Moody Blues’ abilities, you just complimented him. Saying that it’s similar in utility to your Stand. You willingly comparing yourself to him, and in a positive light nonetheless, kinda had him at a loss for words.

He didn’t really offer a strong rebuttal like he normally would, so you assumed he didn’t think much of your comment. Which, of course, couldn’t be further from the truth. If you could see good in him of all people, then well... there was a lot for him to think about that night.

After this incident, he’s noticeably just a tad kinder to you in general. What you said meant a lot to him. Obviously not enough to make all his self deprecation go away overnight, but it just gave a small glimmer of hope. That maybe he can someday be better.

Trish Una;

Another person that I picture SR being especially adorable with!! After the events of Bruno betraying the boss, you and SR would be feeling hurt on Trish’s behalf. You instantly draw the parallels of living a carefree life, only for Passione/gangsters to come in and essentially ruin everything.

While dealing with the pain of rejection from her father figure, Trish also wonders if you consider her less important. Since your original job was to protect her, due to being the boss’ daughter, wouldn’t it make sense you don’t care about her now that it’s no longer your job to?

SR covers the spot where her hand was severed with a bow, even after Giorno properly heals it. Trish just looks at you confused, and you explain it’s your Stand’s way of wanting to help her feel better. That where her father had inflicted pain, Trish has the support and strength from you and herself to overcome it.

Needless to say, Trish thinks highly over you, the feeling extending over to Spice Girl. During your meetups after everything is over, Spice Girl and Scarlet Ribbons come out and embrace one another!! Well, it’s more like SR goes for the hug, and Spice Girl is just :’) woah affection. Trish finds it a little embarrassing at first, but secretly loves and it and looks forward to it. Though she does wish Spice Girl was a tad more discreet.

During Trish’s travels for her singing career, if there’s anything that even vaguely reminds her/Spice Girl of you, she snaps a photo to text to you. It’s mostly red hair accessories and clothing, which she of course purchases. Spice Girl misses SR a lot, so expect to receive a lot of texts asking how you and your Stand are doing.

When Scarlet Ribbon spots Trish’s name popping up on your phone, she immediately brings it over. The Stand impatiently shoves your phone in your face, as if to say respond now!! It’s Trish, it’s important!! Scarlet Ribbons loves her a lot 🥺 especially since Trish sends her accessories...

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archonanqi · 4 years ago

Text

fragile as dust | 5 - culmination

🔖 [first] [prev] [next]

🔖 a/n - aaah some stuff finally starts going down in this chapter, thanks y'all for staying patient through the last four chapters. please let me know if you’d like to be tagged for updates! enjoy!

—

“Admittedly,” Zhongli sighed, “I may have gone a little overboard with the food.”

You both peered at the carnage leftover from your feast, the table strewn with at least half of the meal left.

“Are you full?” Zhongli inquired. He wasn’t smiling, but there was unmistakeable amusement in his voice. You nodded — a few minutes ago, you’d felt like you could have eaten everything on the table, but the physical limits of your stomach betrayed you. “Very well. Let’s clean up, then I will show you around the house. How does that sound?”

It still took you by surprise, each time he asked you for your opinion. “It sounds good, Mr. Zhongli.”

—

The first time you touched him was as he handed you one of the plates, as you thumbed over the intricate blue-white markings and felt your fingers brush. You didn’t know it then, but it would not be the last.

He was wearing his gloves, and so it was really leather that you’d touched, but it was electrifying all the same. You winced, searching his features for any displeasure. It was not your place to so much as gaze upon a noble of half his status without permission, let alone touch — you’d been taught that lesson, quickly and very early on.

“Please take this to the kitchen,” he requested, as though nothing had happened. You obeyed with slow, deliberate steps, squashing even any thoughts of dropping the fine china. Gingerly — how in Celestia was even the inside of his fridge elegant? — you set it down, closed the door and almost jumped out of your skin. He was standing right behind you, arms crossed as he studied you, features unreadable.

“Tell me a little about yourself, Hansi.”

Small talk? Or a test? Surely, certainly, he wasn’t genuinely curious? You felt naked under his probing gaze, still clad in that plain white dress. Had it really only been a day since you’d met Zhongli? Every second with him seemed to stretch over the length of a millennia. Instinctively, your hands wandered to your chest, feeling for your Vision. Wasn’t there. Wouldn’t help you even if it was.

I grew up in a shithole with a dozen other people. I stole, robbed, dredged myself through life, you imagined yourself saying to him, just to get sold to a nobleman who thinks I’m too stupid to understand his intentions.

By the way, three nights ago, Rex Lapis smoked up something real good and gave me a Geo Vision I don’t know how to use.

“There is nothing to know about me,” you said, instead, “save that I am bound to you in loyal servitude, and that I will do as you please, Mr. Zhongli.“

“Hm.” Zhongli hummed, a low echo. His golden gaze rend you through Then, rather abruptly, he said, “Let’s begin the house tour, shall we?”

Somehow, his curtness stung. Had you said something wrong? What you’d said — that was the textbook response you were meant to give, no? Regardless, you nodded your obedience, swallowing the fear you felt, as always, at his displeasure.

—

You almost expected there to be a dungeon of some sort hidden behind one of the doors, some skulls, maybe a poor chained up Hilichurl or two.

What you didn’t expect was so many rocks.

And paintings. And scrolls, and trinkets, and jewelry, arranged carefully upon display stands in each room. You remembered how cluttered the drawers were that you hid your Vision in. In the daylight, now that your mind wasn’t clouded with as much fear and fatigue, you were realizing just how much stuff Zhongli owned.

(Vaguely, it brought to mind images of dragons — the billowing, fire-breathing, treasure-hoarding creatures you’d read about in one of the many storybooks you’d stolen. You shook that image out of your head. Zhongli was plenty intimidating, even without a set of horns and fangs.)

“—and this is the bathroom,” Zhongli said, pushing open the door. The bathroom, on its own, was bigger than the shack you’d shared with four other families growing up. In the middle of the room, the dark marble floor gave way to a large, circular bathtub — it looked a little like a pool. “You are free to use it, and anything in it, whenever you’d like.”

The idea of a hot bath was heaven, but you were a hundred percent certain that your current state — dirt-caked fingernails and unkempt hair and all — was all that was keeping you safe. If you got nice and clean, who was to say what he would decide to do to you?

No, you would avoid taking a bath as long as you could.

Zhongli closed the door, and hesitated. “Hmm. There is less than I thought to show you,” he admitted. “These other rooms are simply full of items I’ve collected over the years, and I’m sure they would bore you.“

“It would be my pleasure to hear more about them,” you said, quickly. You wanted to keep him talking; as long as he was talking, he was doing nothing else. Besides, you found yourself growing more and more intrigued about Zhongli — only so that you could read him better, you promised yourself.

“Well, then far be it from me to deny you your pleasure,” he said. “What would you like to know more about?”

You glanced around, gaze landing on a small, glass standing display case. Two gemstones sat side by side in it, both a rich, translucent gold — like his eyes, you thought. “What are those?”

“Cor Lapis,” he said, and you heard a hint of something in his voice. Pride? “They were a gift, from someone close to me.”

“Are they worth a lot? They’re so pretty.” You bit your lip. They were probably worth more than the average Liyue merchant would ever earn. Pretty? Really?

“In terms of Mora, yes, they are worth no small amount,” Zhongli replied. “However, their value far surpasses material currency, for these are prime Cor Lapis samples from Mount Hulao.”

“Hulao... in Jueyun Karst?” You’d heard the rumors that floated between drunk fishermen and merchants, of the dangers of the mountain, of those who entered and came back changed. You had never put much stock in them — drunk men would say just about anything.

“Yes. And as I’m sure you know, Jueyun Karst is a dangerous place to venture into, without the proper precautions.”

“Dangerous… even for you?” You glanced at the Vision hanging off his waist. You couldn’t imagine a situation where Zhongli would ever be forced to break that collected facade of his.

“For any human.”

You found yourself enjoying the light conversation — you couldn’t remember the last time you’d spoken to another person like this. “Who gave you these?” You tried to smile, and it came easier than you expected. “They must have been really nice, to give away something so expensive.”

Immediately, you regret opening your mouth. Zhongli’s eyes darkened, and his face fell visibly.

“Yes. She… was certainly very kind,” he said, quietly. He looked as though he wanted to say something else, but didn't. Couldn’t.

Was? You wanted to kick yourself. Of course you’d manage to bring up his dead friend in your first real conversation with him. The next seconds of silence were almost unbearable. Finally, you spoke up with the first thing that popped into your head. “So, you like rocks?”

By the Archon, weren’t you on a roll today.

You were pleasantly baffled to hear him chuckle, a deep, throaty rumble from the depths of his chest. “Yes, one could say that I am fond of them.” He said, amidst soft laughter. “And you?”

“I don’t know much about them,” you admitted, “but the ones you have are beautiful, Mr. Zhongli.” So was his laugh.

“Is that so?” He asked, the previous conversation seemingly forgotten, as he strode over to a case across the room, “perhaps you will find these to your fancy as well — these pieces of Noctilucuous Jade were mined from the deepest mines of the Mingyun...“

—

By the time Zhongli had finished regaling you about his rock collection, the sky outside had become a smear of pink and orange, the sun drifting barely over the horizon. You hadn’t even noticed the time — Zhongli simply had the kind of voice that demanded wholehearted attention.

“I seem to have gotten carried away again,” Zhongli smiled. Was it just you, or were his smiles coming more frequently? “Thank you for being such a good listener, Hansi.”

You nodded in response, not quite sure what to say to that. The praise had a strange, warm feeling spreading through your chest.

“All that’s left of the house is the library upstairs,” he paused, the tacit question clear on his lips.

You froze. Ever since you started stealing to survive, you’d made a point to sell everything that couldn’t be eaten. Jewelry, hairpins, no matter how pretty, no matter how much your heart ached to put them on, went straight to the pawn store. But you could never sell books. You couldn’t bear to give up the worlds within them, the promises that one day you would be able to live as freely as the heroes of those stories.

So you stole. First from Wanwen bookstore, then when the owner learned to watch for your grubby hands, from bags and pockets and homes. You devoured them like hot meals, kept them under the floorboards of your corner, read them out loud to the kids who lived with you, read them till the dirt from your fingers had smeared the words to unrecognition.

You wanted to see Zhongli’s library, so badly that it hurt.

But to tell him this would be to admit to him that you’d stolen those books, that you taught yourself a skill that someone of your social class didn’t deserve to learn. Something you weren’t worthy of.

“I can’t read anyway,” you lied.

“I see,” Zhongli said. “Then, shall we go and get some dinner? Are you feeling well enough to make a trip to Liyue Harbor? I know the most splendid restaurant.”

—

You thought that things were going relatively well, that you were doing a fine job of squashing the unease and distrust of Zhongli that still gnawed at the corners of your mind. You were giddily excited, even, to be going to a restaurant for the first time.

So, as you two arrived at the outskirts of Liyue, close enough to hear the bustle of nightlife, you certainly weren’t expecting the sudden wave of emotions that knocked you clean off your feet.

It had started small — the unrelenting reminder of how out of place you would look at the restaurant. How out of place you would look in public, next to Zhongli in all his regality. Then: how out of place you truly were — how absurd of you to have started warming up to Zhongli when you knew, with every fiber of your being, what all men like him wanted; when you knew that one day he would grow impatient of waiting for you to offer it.

If you took his dinner, his food, his kindness, what would you begin to owe him?

Suddenly, you couldn’t breathe. The bile that rose through your throat was hot and bitter, and you doubled over and retched noisily into the nearest bush. Vaguely, you could hear Zhongli’s exclamation and his footsteps approaching, but you couldn’t stop until your stomach was empty once again.

You flinched violently at his light touch on your shoulder. “Hansi,” he said, and you were baffled at how genuine his concern sounded, “what happened? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” you whispered, and it was true. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry—“

“Please don’t apologize. Can you stand?” Zhongli asked, voice low and soothing. “Let’s get you home.”

You nodded. “I’m sorry I ruined dinner.”

“Nonsense, your health is infinitely more important.” He said. “Do you think that you can walk?”

Once again, you nodded. You let him lead you home.

—

When you reached the front door of the house, Zhongli’s hand on your shoulder firm and gentle, something had begun — deep in your heart — to fester. The fear, the confusion, the things that had fallen into place but didn’t quite fit together — it had all been boiling too long, too hot.

“Mr. Zhongli.” You said, as you stepped through the door, once again greeted by a warm gust of air.

“Yes, Hansi?” He asked, close behind. His hand on your shoulder was suddenly heavy, and hot. You shrugged it off, whipping around to stare him in the eyes.

“Please, just— do whatever you’re planning to do to me.” You said, knowing that if you lost your momentum now you would never get it back.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I’m not a child. We both know what I'm here for. When I lived on the streets, two pieces Mora would have earned any nobleman a night -- let alone... however much you’ve spent.” You were vaguely aware of how many lines you were crossing with each word, but there was no stopping the words flowing from your lips now. You could feel your heart thrashing against your chest, anger warming your bones.

“We both know that I have nowhere to run, no way to defend myself, so just DO it already. Be cruel, hit me, whatever, do your thing so that I can stop holding my Archon-damned breath and waiting for the inevitable. What exactly are your intentions with me, sir?”

You paused to catch your breath, and the horror set in suddenly. Your temper had always been the bane of your well-being — you just had to let it get the best of you, every time, didn’t you? Why couldn’t you have just bided your time and waited for his patience to run out later rather than sooner?

Zhongli stayed silent, face pulled into a frown as though he was pondering over your words. Time seemed to slow into a viscous fluid, drowning you in its wake. You glanced down the hallway at your room.

If he raised his hand against you, would you be able to make it to your room? Would you be able to grab your Geo Vision before he caught you, and would you even be able to use it against him, against the years of experience he’s had with his? You knew the answer to all of those questions: a resounding no.

Would he let you live if you apologized? You opened your mouth to beg.

“My intentions with you...” he said, brow pulled down over heavy lids. “Hm. It seems that I must apologize.”

You let go of a breath you didn’t know you were holding. For the umpteenth time since your meeting with Zhongli, you wondered: What?

“I have been trying to let you acclimate to your new life at your own pace, whilst moving on from your old.” Zhongli’s pursed lips were the only sign of discomfort in his composed features. “I did not know that such concerns were going through your head, though I should have seen that your seeming lack of fear was but a facade from your incredibly strong character.”

In the corner of your eye, you saw your hands trembling. You tried to get them to stop. They would not.

Zhongli swept on. “The circumstances of our meeting are... unfortunate. In time, you will understand my intentions in orchestrating our meeting, but for now -- you have been put in a very uncomfortable situation. I am remiss for not having acknowledged this much earlier.”

What?

Zhongli cleared his throat. “Hansi, please listen to me. While you are under my roof, I will never lift a finger to cause you any harm, physically or otherwise. And for as long as you are a part of my household, I will do everything in my power to ensure that you are never again touched by hunger, frost, hardship. That you will never be subject to the kind of fear that’s making you tremble,” he reached out slowly and took your hand, “like this.”

He had done all the speaking, but it was you who had lost the breath from your lungs. Each of his words was a low rumble, earthquakes in their own right. You didn’t know if you believed him, but you so badly, badly wanted to, with every inch of your shaking body.

“I do not expect you to believe me, right now,” he said, as though reading your mind. He let go of your hand, and it fell back to your side, still shaking. “However, you will soon come to learn that I never break my word.”

You were beginning to see why Rex Lapis had chosen to grace this man with a Vision. He commanded — no, demanded — your attention, your respect, your trust, your entire being. There was more to him than the rich, lonely nobleman he seemed to be; in that moment, you had never been more sure of it.

“Is there anything else you would like to ask me, Hansi?” Zhongli asked.

You shook your head, mutely. There were a lot of things you wanted to say to that, but the swollen words stuck in your throat. “Thank you, Mr. Zhongli,” you said, and hoped he heard everything behind it.

Tomorrow morning, you supposed, it’d be alright if you had that bath.

#zhongli #zhongli fanfic #Zhongli fanfiction #Zhongli genshin #genshin #genshin fanfic #Zhongli x reader #fragile as dust #anqi writes #my writing #this is solidly toeing the boundaries of self indulgence/projection #but I hope y'all like it anyway ;;

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collecting-stories · 4 years ago

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Thalassophobia - JJ Maybank

Request: Hello I love your writing so much! Could you possibly do one where she doesn’t get along with JJ and he find out that she can’t swim and he taunts her and she begs him not to tell the others, and somehow she ends up in the sea and she’s struggling/ gets hurt and he has to help her and care for her and they have a moment or something pleasee x

A/N: Thalassophobia is a fear of the ocean or deep bodies of water.

Outer Banks Masterlist

☆☆☆☆

You stood at the end of the jetty staring at the Heyward’s boat as John B and JJ loaded the drone on. Kiara was looking over the map one more time and Pope was swearing to his dad that it was all just some regular fun, nothing to worry about. And you were just standing still the whole time, staring at the boat and the minute gap between the boat and the jetty were you could see water.

“I think maybe I’ll sit this one out.” You finally said, speaking up for the first time since John B picked you up in the twinkie that morning.

“What?” Kiara looked over at you in surprise. “No way we’re all going.”

“I just don’t wanna be out there on the water. I can’t swim.” You confessed, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Everyone can swim.” JJ piped up. You rolled your eyes, knowing immediately that this was going to start an issue with him. He was always looking for a way to piss you off.

“No.”

“Well obviously,” he replied, casting a glance your way, “but everyone else can.”

“Some people didn’t learn okay?” You defended yourself. It wasn’t your fault you didn’t swim, it wasn’t like you didn’t want to.

“You live on an island, at the beach, that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard in my life ‘you can’t swim’.” JJ said, doing his best impersonation of you at the end, which really just sounded high-pitched and whiny.

“Well I can’t swim. So I’m not getting on that boat with you guys.”

“That’s fine, we’ll let you know what happens.” Kiara said, drawing your attention toward her as she touched your arm, trying to be as reassuring as possible.

“No way! No! We said we needed everyone and you’re part of that as you so annoyingly insist on pointing out so get on the boat.” JJ’s voice raised a little, getting more pissed by the moment as you refused to get on board.

“No!”

“JJ, she’s not getting on.” Pope said, coming up beside you on the jetty.

“Whatever! Then we get your half.” He concluded.

“No way! That’s not fair.” You snapped. He was stubborn and you knew he would take every opportunity to cut you out of the group. But you couldn’t let him win, “fine, I’m getting on the fucking boat you asshole.”

“Good.” JJ said,

“Great.”

“Can we just go already!” John B sighed, annoyed with both of you. JJ and you were both childhood friends of John B’s, you’d both known him equally as long, and he refused to choose between the two of you. Meaning that JJ spent way more time with you than he would have preferred. Including this, you getting on the boat with them.

☆

The calm weather that John B had claimed was supposed to stick around all day quickly deteriorated into a coming storm. Reluctant to do so but not comfortable with John B and Pope in the back of the boat, you had moved inside with JJ, sitting on a crate in the corner and trying not to look as the wind shifted and the waves picked up. Surprisingly JJ said nothing about your behavior though he did feel the need to volunteer you when John B called for help.

“Hey, come here for a second, we need help with the rope.”

You looked at JJ, waiting for him to do something but he just continued to stand there behind the wheel. Finally, he looked down at you, smug. “Unless you can suddenly sail a boat they aren’t talking to me.”

“I’m going!”

You made your way over to John B and Pope carefully holding the side once you were close enough. Rain was starting to come down and the waves crashed against the side of the boat.

“If you just, grab right there, yeah. Grab that. Pull.” John B instructed, handing you the rope and checking the camera to see where they were. “Shit, JJ, port, port!” He moved away from the edge to talk to JJ, leaving you and Pope to pull the rigging.

“I am!”

JJ turned the wheel just enough to get the drone out from under the boat and you lost your footing, trying to grab on to something but too close to the edge of the boat. You were there holding the rope one second and the next you had been knocked over, trying to grip the rope but burning your hand as you crashed into the water below.

“John B!” Pope screamed. Kiara ran over to your side, looking over the edge.

“Holy shit!” She cried, “where’s the life raft?”

“What happened?” John B asked, JJ coming to the door to see the commotion.

“Guys we don’t have time I’m going in.” Pope announced.

“I’ll go, I’m a better swimmer.” JJ said, already pulling off his hat and sweatshirt so he could go in after you. John B took hold of the wheel, fighting to keep the boat steady as JJ jumped in after you.

☆

“She’s waking up.” JJ called, “Kie give me some water.”

Kiara came over, kneeling beside you as you started to come to, your head on JJ’s lap. He brushing hair away from your forehead as you tried to catch your breath. He took the water bottle that Kiara offered him, wetting the sleeve of the sweatshirt he still hadn’t put back on, pressing it against your forehead and cheeks.

“Hey, are you okay?” Kiara asked, holding onto your hand and giving it a squeeze.

“Yeah. I told you I can’t swim.” You replied, tilting your head back to look at JJ.

“Didn’t think you’d try to prove it.”

“Come on, we need to get off the boat.” Pope called, standing on the jetty. John B had steered the boat the rest of the way back into the harbor and docked it. The storm that was coming not far off now, “can you walk?”

Kiara helped you sit up while JJ moved from behind you, standing up and capping the water bottle. He stuck it in his pocket and squatted down beside you, wrapping an arm around your back. “Here, I got you.”

“I don’t need you helping cause you feel bad that I went overboard.” You mentioned, even as you leaned most of your weight on him and let him stand you up.

“Can you stop being a pain in the ass and just accept my help?” He replied, securing an arm around your waist even now that you were righted, prepared to help you get off the boat.

“Fine. Thank you.”

“What exactly is our next move supposed to be guys?” Pope asked, helping John B carry the drone down the dock toward the twinkie.

“I wouldn’t mind our next move being dinner.” JJ piped up.

“I second that.” John B replied.

“I meant with the gold!” Pope stressed, rolling his eyes at his friends’ antics.

“Well why don’t we get food and then discuss next moves?” JJ asked.

“I hate to put a damper on the evening but do you think you could drop me off at mine? I don’t feel so great and I’d rather just go home.” You said, climbing into the backseat of the twinkie and resting your head against the window. You were wrapped up in an oversized towel and a blanket but you wanted to get out of your wet bathing suit and get some rest.

“Of course.” JJ muttered, rolling his eyes.

“I’m sorry did you fall off a boat?” You did your best glare across the back of the bus at him, annoyed that he would continue to hassle you after you had just fallen into the ocean.

“I went in after you! And if I had fallen off I would’ve been fine cause I can swim!”

“Just drop me off please!” You called as John B got in the driver’s side.

“It might be a concussion; you shouldn’t be alone.” Pope pointed out, frowning when you turned your glare on him.

“I’ll be fine.” You promised.

John B drove the twinkie to your house first, letting you out. When he pulled up you pushed the door open and headed for your house, throwing your hand up in a wave. You were still feeling awful and all you wanted to do was get inside, change into warm clothes, and lay down. Your dad was at work still which meant that you had the house to yourself.

“JJ,” Kiara started to say as you walked up the stairs to your porch.

“No. Kie, no way.” He snapped, knowing immediately that they were going to try and make him stay with you.

“Come on.” She insisted.

“Then you go.”

“I would but I promised my dad I’d help close tonight.” Kiara said.

“Unbelievable.”

“JB and I’ll come back with food.” Pope promised, trying to ease JJ’s annoyance.

“Whatever. I’m still stuck with her.” JJ snapped as he climbed out of the van and made his way to your house. He had already saved you from the ocean, he didn’t understand why he had to go babysit you too.

He wasn’t the only one annoyed either. You stuck your head out of your bedroom and looked down the hallway as the front door opened and JJ walked into your house.

“What’re you doing here?” you asked, coming out of your room, changed but still toweling your hair dry.

“John B and Pope are grabbing food and coming back.”

“And you volunteered to stay behind?” You questioned.

“I wouldn’t say I volunteered.” He replied, walking into the kitchen and rummaging around in the fridge.

☆

“Why can’t you swim?” JJ asked, sitting on the couch with you scrolling through netflix.

“What?”

“You live on the beach, you never learned how to swim?”

“No.”

“How come?”

You shrugged, “when I was like six my mom took me to the highschool for swim lessons and the guy there was teaching us how to hold our breath underwater. I was freaked out about going underwater so he held my head under. I almost drowned.”

“That’s fucked up.” He said, sitting up a little more to look over at you.

“Yeah. My mom totally got him fired. But I never got in the water after that.”

“You should try again.”

“I have. It freaks me out to much.” You replied. There were a few times that you’d tried swimming but it terrified you every time. “I only went today because I didn’t want everyone thinking I was letting them down. But that was really scary.”

“Well, sorry you fell over.” He replied.

“I mean, it’s not like you pushed me. You even jumped in to save me…definitely not who I expected to be pulling me out of the water.” You admitted.

“What you thought I’d let you drown?”

“Not like, on purpose.” You had

“I can’t believe you think I’d let you drown.” JJ protested

“I said you wouldn’t.” You laughed at the offended face that JJ made.

“It’s the way you said it!” He replied.

“I didn’t say it any kind of way!”

“That’s it,” JJ announced, “I’m teaching you how to swim now.”

“No thank you.” You laughed.

“No, too late, I’ve extended my friendship to you and now you’re gonna have to learn to swim.” He replied, leaning back into the couch and crossing his arms over his chest.

“What if I don’t want to?”

“Too bad.”

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myundeadgayson · 3 years ago

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Ahoy, We are Castaways AU, but not really because Gunk and Ishmael find Pirates:

@bluwards So.... I mayhaps wrote an entire thing for your idea?

For anyone wondering, here’s the link to the OG au idea post: https://bluwards.tumblr.com/post/661885099380506624/au-where-tommy-and-wilbur-were-part-of-a-pirate

This might not be exactly what you were hoping for of this, but I had an image in my mind and just went HAM on it. Like, I mean that as in I started this at like... 1am last night and I finished at like 4pm today??? I’m not saying I wrote that entire time, but I am saying that I literally just NEEDED to finish this because it’s SUCH A FUN IDEA. (I’m sorry for writing so much by the way! I got excited.)

Notes: None of this is historically accurate to literally anything, especially history and pirates. Instead, we’re gonna image this is some fun fantasy world where like. Pirates are out chilling in the world stealing shit and royalty exists somewhere enough you can be like “yeah, i’m royal. try to prove i’m not bitch.” (Also, I’ll post this on Ao3 later and edit with the link after I sleep. For now, please enjoy!) Words: 5160 Characters: Wilbur Soot, TommyInnit, Philza Minecraft, and Technoblade

The heat must be getting to him. It must be because there’s no way that’s a ship he’s seeing out on the horizon. It seems to be drawing closer, but it’s not near enough to tell, not that it would matter anyway. It’s not real. It’s not real, he tells himself. It has to be a mirage. As if their luck would ever be that good.

Wilbur rests his head back down into Tommy’s mess of curls. The two of them are curled together underneath the shade of the treeline. His back is pressed against the rough, uneven bark of a palm tree with his bare feet digging into the sand. Tommy’s eyes are closed. His little brother is tucked tight against his side, dozing softly as the slight breeze ruffles his dirty hair.

If Wilbur tried, he could pretend Tommy was just resting. He could pretend this was the two of them relaxing on some beach that they’ve gotten all to themselves. He could imagine that Tommy tuckered himself out, now the two of them were peacefully dozing off in the shade on a lovely Summer day as the gentle sea wind blew.

In that fantasy, they would have chosen to be here on this beach. A beach would make for a good day trip, he thinks. He imagines that it would be a beach off the coast of a small town. He’d take Tommy early in the morning down past the docks and watch Tommy hop along stones down a path leading towards the sand. Wilbur would make him carry a basket of bread and other treats that they might have gotten from a kind baker that didn’t mind that their pockets were a little low. Wilbur would smile and promise to repay them, and it’d be a real promise instead of a sharp-toothed lie.

He’d bring a threadbare sheet because they’d have one to spare for it. He’d spread it along the sand and bask in the sun’s rays. He’d open his eyes occasionally to Tommy’s excited shouts as his brother pulled odd shells and tiny hermit crabs from the ocean, then laugh as Tommy shouted obscenities when they inevitably fell from his hands because Tommy was anything but careful. A few shells would be saved though, and Tommy would make a small pile of them on the corner of the sheet for them to keep.

Tommy would eventually tug Wilbur up to join him. Wilbur would laugh and pretend to be reluctant as his brother guided him down towards the water until the warm waves lapped at their feet. Tommy would grin at him, bright as the sun overhead and his hair sparkling like strands of gold. He’d look so proud of himself as he showed Wilbur more shells and other interesting things he found.

Along the way, one of them would splash the other whether it be accidentally or not, and it’d start a war. Wilbur would laugh until his ribs were sore as he smacked water Tommy’s way and listened to the younger shout insults back at him. It’d all be in good fun and it’d show in Tommy’s toothy grin as the blond would get some harebrained idea of how to “win” their little game and it’d end with them both falling into the water. They’d be soaked to the bone and Wilbur would playfully smack water at Tommy’s face for getting them both wet, but it’d be fine in the end because they would sit out in the sun until their clothes dried. In this fantasy, Wilbur could imagine it wouldn’t matter anyway because once they went home, they’d have more clothes to change into and one pair wouldn’t be missed for a day.

When the sun started to set over the horizon, Wilbur would gather them up to leave. He’d gather up their food and make Tommy carefully fold up the sheet. It’d end up balled up instead and Wilbur would tease Tommy for his shit folding skills. They’d stay an extra few minutes to stare off at the sunset as it glistened over the calm waters. All would feel peaceful until Tommy ruined the moment with some joke that’d make Wilbur smack him upside the head, even though he’d laugh all the same.

They’d walk home with Tommy’s shells tucked safely into their pockets under the soft pink skies. A perfect background to a perfect day.

It would be nice, lovely even, because in that world they’d go home to some nice place Wilbur managed to keep for them in some nice town. It’d be real and theirs, and they’d each have a warm bed to sleep in and food in their stomachs. It might be small, but small was okay because they’d both be happy and they’d have nothing to fear.

If only life were ever so kind.

It was a nice daydream, but if Wilbur were to look down, it’d shatter. It’d shatter if he listened at all to the way Tommy’s breathing sounded off. With every low breath, his brother’s chest would shutter. Wilbur could feel it every time.

Tommy’s nose was red and peeling, as were his cheeks and shoulders. His freckles were hidden beneath the furious scarlet and white flecks. His skin had gotten tanner, but the dark rings under his eyes made him look ghastly. Wilbur was sure that he looked about the same himself, but seeing it on Tommy was different.

The boy was thin enough before they’d gotten stranded, but now his limbs looked just too small. Wilbur could practically see the bones poking through. If it weren’t for the blaring sun overhead tanning their skin, Wilbur was sure that Tommy would look more like a walking skeleton than a teenager.

They’d got thrown overboard days ago. Wilbur lost track of how many. He stopped really caring when he realized there were other things to care about, like keeping them alive.

Luck had never been on their side. Wilbur had known that since they were little and a twelve-year-old found himself in charge of a five-year-old.

The world’s always been against them. It started early with a mother too young to be on her own with a child. She was struggling enough as it was to keep them fed that when that one child turned to two, the odds for any of them getting by turned minimal. Even with Wilbur doing his best to help, swindling and snatching up food and loose change off of oblivious folk in the city, hope was running thin.

It was amazing she’d ever gotten so far. Wilbur hated to see it that way now, but it was the truth. The fact she’d ever made it to Tommy’s fifth birthday was incredible. When the sickness set in though, no amount of Wilbur’s efforts could seem to help her. Eventually, she’d stopped waking up entirely and Wilbur was left on his own to care for his little brother.

Luck ran out, but they made their own with time.

After losing their mother, Wilbur packed them up and they were off. He taught Tommy every trick he knew. They traveled endlessly, hopping from place to place just to keep moving whenever it seemed like any townsfolk around started catching onto their games. Wilbur tried a few odd jobs every time for money in places, and Tommy was tiny enough that he could sneak bread and other foods off vendors to bring back to whatever tiny hole they’d called home at that moment.

As they both got older, the tricks got better. Their stories were perfected and their act was flawless if ever they needed to talk someone into lending them a place out of pity, or a new job.

When Wilbur caught sight of a ship though, he’d thought they were golden. Sure, he only knew vaguely about working them. He’d taken on a few jobs on some docks before, but he’d never been on a ship himself. The thought was meant to be that if he could get on that ship for a job, he could bring Tommy along with him. They’d stay there and hop off at the first chance they could once they’d landed in a new country, then they’d start over for real. They’d start over fresh in a new place entirely and everything might be okay! They could make life whatever they wanted because no one would be able to know otherwise!

And everything did feel okay for a while. Turns out the ship Wilbur found was a crew of pirates, but like always, Wilbur managed to talk his way through. Tommy played along perfectly, and before they knew it, they became crew. Perhaps they were there for nothing more than playing clean-up, but they would take what they could get.

Their luck was turning up. As Wilbur started working his way through making connections with the crew, he was starting to think maybe he’d found a place for them. They wouldn’t stay, of course, but it made sense, didn’t it?

The constant traveling and plundering— that kind of life was meant for them. However, there were also rules to follow and heavy risks in not doing so. Neither of them were good at following rules, but they were good actors all the same that could fake it until their last breath. But for a short time, it felt like a good fit and Wilbur remembered telling Tommy as such.

Tommy was much more reluctant. He was getting by, but he didn’t like it there. Maybe Wilbur was succeeding, but Tommy was younger. His limbs were all thin and gangly, and it made him look weaker than he was. The crew would shove him around and they’d always be too loud in his ears. Tommy was rather loud himself, but when you’re trying to hold your tongue to survive, it wasn’t like he could exactly defend himself.

So maybe they didn’t see eye to eye about it, but that was fine. Wilbur agreed they’d only be there a little longer because the moment they docked somewhere new, they’d be off and onto wherever life would take them next.

Unfortunately, their luck ran out.

It all happened in a blur. Wilbur remembered when the storm hit. It was rougher than normal. He remembered fighting with the rest of the crew to take care of the ship. They were fighting hard to stay afloat as the waves rocked the ship from side to side so hard that Wilbur feared they would tip.

The ship didn’t tip, but Tommy did.

He could still vividly remember Tommy slipping. He’d watched in horror the way his brother scrambled for purchase on something, anything. He’s just barely caught the side of the ship.

Wilbur went after him, not caring in the slightest for whatever task he’d abandoned. He’d tried to help yank Tommy back aboard. Tommy, who held on with white knuckles and fingernails digging into the wood with fear in his eyes. Wilbur tried to reassure him, but he was sure his words got lost in the raging winds. He’d tried to pull Tommy back onto the deck, and for a moment, he was succeeding. He almost managed to pull Tommy back on board.

Right as he thought he’d gotten Tommy back though, the ship hit another furious set of waves. The brothers got thrown hard, and suddenly they were both going down.

It was a miracle they didn’t drown.

Wilbur sighed, closing his eyes once again. He tried to block out the memories of rushing water and Tommy’s screams of his name. He could still taste the seawater on his tongue as it tried to flood his lungs.

They’d gotten tossed endlessly in the waves. The ship was forgotten in the battle to just hold on to each other.

He combed his fingers through Tommy’s hair. The boy didn’t even respond. He must have finally fallen asleep, Wilbur thought to himself. Sleep hadn’t been easy to find since they’d woken up ashore. Though the island seemed abandoned, neither of them could be sure there wasn’t some hidden danger lurking somewhere. Their sunburns didn’t make it easy either with the way their skin would ache. Even in the shade or the dark of the night, they’d struggle to find enough comfort to rest at all.

He was glad Tommy was getting some sleep now. He was getting rather tired himself. As much as he’d like to give in, one of them needed to stay awake just in case.

Wilbur groaned as he forced his eyes to peel open once more. As his vision started to clear, he noticed the mirage was getting closer. The blurry shape of the ship was getting bigger. It was looking like it was getting ready to dock at the edge of the island at any minute. Or at least it would if it were actually real.

Wilbur huffed, resting his cheek on Tommy’s head. He watched idly as the ship grew closer and closer to the edge of the shore. It wasn’t coming straight towards them. It was heading more towards the left edge of the island where the trees were a bit more scattered, but the shoreline was still mostly clear of rocks.

It wasn’t until it was starting to look suspiciously more and more lifelike that Wilbur started to get more intrigued.

Furrowing his brows, he lifted his head. He pulled away from Tommy some to sit up further. Tommy groaned in protest. The motion caused the boy to slide down, his head resting more on Wilbur’s chest than shoulder. Wilbur wanted to hush him and whisper soft apologies for disturbing him at all. Unfortunately, the ship’s drawing nearer by the second and Wilbur could feel something akin to hope bubbling up in his throat.

He frantically nudged at Tommy’s side, “Tommy. Tommy, wake up.”

“Augh…” Tommy rolled his head, burying his face further into Wilbur’s shirt with an annoyed whine. He weakly smacked at Wilbur’s arm, “Fuck off, Wilbur… M’tryin’ to sleep, asshole…”

As much as Wilbur wished he could agree, he needed Tommy’s eyes. “Get up! I think I see something,” Wilbur urged. He shoved Tommy off him until the boy got the hint to sit up on his own.

The blond looked absolutely pitiful. Tommy rubbed at his tired eyes with his fists. Wilbur’s chest ached with remorse for having bothered him, but he told himself that again, it could be for good reason.

“What the fuck’re you on about?” Tommy mumbled irritably.

“Look! Look there,” Wilbur hissed, pointing out at the ship. It seemed to be getting ready to dock. Tiny figures could be seen moving along the deck, grabbing at ropes and such. “Do you see that?”

It took a moment for Tommy to follow where he was pointing. The boy was still getting his bearings on being awake again. Wilbur almost turned Tommy’s head himself to see though. Patience was growing thin as their potential hope of being able to escape was growing stronger, but he needed to be sure. It could be his mind playing cruel tricks on him. The exhaustion could finally be taking its toll, and maybe Tommy would be of no help because he could be seeing nothing as well, but the chances of them imagining the same ship with the same little people had to be high.

“See wha’?” Tommy’s voice was still groggy from sleep. The boy’s eyes slowly followed Wilbur’s finger towards the ship. Wilbur watched as the recognition clicked into place and all at once their hope seemed more plausible. Tommy’s eyes widened, “T-That’s— Wilbur, that’s a ship!” His head whipped around to look up at Wilbur. “That’s a real ship, innit?! Please tell me that’s real!”

The brunette was already grinning and nodding along with that same spark in his eye. “Oh, thank fuck! You see it too then! I thought maybe I was just imagining it.”

For the first time in days, Tommy looked excited. “Holy shit, Wilbur, we might be saved!”

He tried to stagger to his feet. Wilbur had to rush to catch him before he stumbled to the ground, “Tommy, careful!”

He caught the boy before he could fall. Tommy winced, teeth gritting to bite back a cry. Wilbur noticed it instantly. He dropped Tommy’s arms at once, moving to take the other’s wrists where the burns were less present. The younger steadied himself on his feet with Wilbur’s cautious guidance. Once he was stable, he passed Wilbur a sheepish grin, “Heh, oops?”

Wilbur heaved out a sigh. There was no way he could be mad at that, not that he ever planned to. He shook his head, letting go of Tommy completely now that it seemed his brother could stand on his own. He straightened up, looking out towards where the head of the ship was disappearing behind the treeline. Taking a deep breath, Wilbur ruffled a hand through his hair before looking back to Tommy, “I think they’re planning to dock on that side. If we go now, we might be able to get on.”

“Then what are we waiting for?! Let’s go!” Tommy shouted excitedly. With that, he turned to march ahead.

He barely got a step before Wilbur was catching him by the wrist to stop him, “Wait a second! I wasn’t done yet!”

Tommy practically whined as he was stopped for the second time. He turned back on his heel with a loud groan, “What? The ship’s right there, Wilbur! We need to go!”

Wilbur could understand his enthusiasm. He wanted off this island as much as Tommy did, but if they were going to get onto that ship, they needed a plan.

“Listen to me. I’m not sure we’ll be able to sneak on without getting found out and I don’t know about you, but I really don’t feel like getting tossed off another ship,” Wilbur told him honestly.

Tommy’s nose wrinkled at the reminder. Sniffing, the boy turned to face him better, “Then what? You want us to go and just ask them? Like ‘hi, Mister Captain, sir! Could we please jump on this here ship you got? I know you don’t know us and it’d be really to leave us for dead, but I think if you’d really just considered it for a second deep in your heart’— honestly, that’s sounds really stupid, Wilbur. No one’s going to fall for that!”

Wilbur sputtered, trying not to choke on a laugh. “No, no! As if that’d ever work.” He cleared his throat, pulling himself back together quickly. “We don’t know what kind of ship we’re dealing with yet. I say we go stake out the ship first and plan from there. But if we get caught, I think I already have a few ideas in mind. But whatever we do, we just have to stick to it well enough to get to their next stop.”

Tommy rolled his eyes, “Sounds easy enough. Now can we just go already? I’m so tired of all this stupid sand.” ****** ****** ****** ****** ****** ****** ******

“So…” Phil dragged out the word. Techno remained tense behind him, leaning against the side of the ship. Phil didn’t need to look behind him to know the man was glaring at the pair of boys in front of them, searching for some sign to not trust the two. Phil held up a hand as if to silently gesture his first mate to settle down. He could handle this. “How about we start with your names, alright, boys?”

The two young men before him traded a look. Whatever mental conversation the two had ended in the span of seconds before the older of the pair was clearing his throat. The brunette was suddenly holding out a hand, “Captain Ishmael. Honor to meet another Captain”

“Ishmael?…” Phil slowly repeated, taking the man’s hand. He’d give it to the kid. For someone that was clearly on the verge of exhaustion, he had a good grip. “Really?”

“Uh huh!” Ishmael took his hand back with a rather proud grin, “It’s a family name. Passed down from generation to generation! I’m Ishmael the 3rd actually, in case you wanted to know.”

Phil did not. He couldn’t care less about this man’s history, but he did care about the fact that he could have sworn the man didn’t have as much of an accent before. And it seemed to be growing thicker with every word (as if “Ishmael” was getting his bearings on his new voice).

“As you can probably guess, we’re a very long way from home, you know?” Ishmael went on without missing a beat. “We had a ship of our own, but huge storm took it out with the rest of our crew and, well, you can see how things turned out.”

Phil only arched a brow further. He was sure the disbelief was heavy on his expression, “Right…” He turned his attention to the young boy beside the self-proclaimed captain. He’d been mostly quiet since boarding. “And what about you, mate?”

“Gunk,” the boy croaked up after a moment. His voice was incredibly hoarse. He had the same accent as Ishmael, lending slight credit to their tale, not that Phil believed either of them in the slightest.

“Gunk.”

The boy hummed, leaning heavily on the young Captain’s shoulder. “Yep. And that’s Gunk Gorbachev to you,” the kid added, weakly lifting his head enough to shoot Phil a glare, pointing a finger as well in a way the older blond assumed was meant to look threatening. “Heir to the Gorbachev throne, I’ll have you know.”

Phil only stared blankly at the kid. Blinking slowly, he settled on a simple, “Okay… So, we have Captain Ishmael and Gunk…”

“Gorbachev,” the kid corrected.

Phil nodded, “Gorbachev. So tell me why exactly should I let you on my ship?”

Ishmael cleared his throat first, “Well, as I mentioned before, our ship got destroyed in the storm. I know you’ve got no reason to believe us, but I assure you when we get back to the nearest mainland, I can find you all the proof I can to prove Gunk’s father is a highly influential man. He would waste no time to give you as much money as you wish for his son’s safe return.”

Before Phil could answer, Techno was doing so for him. “If he’d only send an amount for the kid, then why should we bother to keep you?”

To Ishmael's credit, he held his own well. Phil knew exactly how intimidating Techno could be, especially when he was trying. The man could make most men cower with a single look. Ishmael, however, held Techno’s look head-on, lips stretched into a firm line, “Well I’ll have you know, I’m one of King Gorbachev’s most trusted Captains. I’m now Gunk’s primary caretaker as well, seeing as the rest of our people were taken down in the waves. The bounty for my safe return will be high. Not as high as Gunk’s, but it’s still more bounty for you, isn’t it?”

“But you still crashed his ship,” Techno bluntly pointed out, much to Ishmael’s disliking. “Someone who can’t take care of their own ship and out of their crew, only manages to keep themselves and some kid alive doesn’t sound very worthy to me. At least, that’s not someone I’d wanna take back.”

Ishmael narrowed his eyes sharply, “I think as someone who lives their life on the water, you would know how unpredictable the sea can be, Sir…”

“Technoblade,” the said man gruffly answered.

“Technoblade,” the name almost sounded cruel on Ishmael’s tongue, “I’m sure you know exactly how unfair the tides are. You can’t always predict the storms when they come, neither can you always get away from them in time. I’ll have you know, Technoblade, I did my damned hardest to save my crew, but the waves separated us and took my ship down with it. You don’t think I haven’t spent days searching the shores for signs of my crew? Because I have.” Ishmael’s voice was getting louder and more emotional with every word. “The best I could do was to do my sworn task, which was keep Gunk here safe…”

Phil could see the sheen of tears behind the young captain's eyes as he choked on those last few words, and if he was lying, Phil had to admit the kid was a pretty damn good actor.

Ishmael’s arm was wrapped protectively around the Gunk’s shoulders, keeping the boy close to his chest as if it really were his sworn duty and he couldn’t handle the thought of failing another task, especially one so crucial.

Gunk was in on it as well. The boy played a pretty convincing part of the sad child that’s lost his people. Phil might feel bad if it turned out to be true because he did look awfully pitiful. He had his head tucked against Ishmael’s chest. His eyes weren’t closed, but they stared ahead, unblinking yet filled with sadness as if he were reliving the painful memories.

“Now I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t talk about my loss,” Ishmael finished, squaring his shoulders once more. The man’s dark eyes were hardened over in a way that almost made Phil believe his story. That was a soldier’s look if he knew one. “It isn’t as if I haven’t been thinking about them enough for the past few days… How would you like it if the seas turned on you and took your crew?”

Techno seemed to have nothing more to say to that. This talk seemed to have turned much more emotional than he planned. He crossed his arms with a grunt, breaking Ishmael's gaze to glower at the deck instead.

Ishmael broke the gaze as well, huffing loudly before turning his attention back on Philza. “Now as I was saying, you can offer me up as well. If the king offers you nothing, you can kill me, that’s fine. But I think you’d be wasting your effort if you did so now and lost even more bounty. You seem like two very smart men, so I don’t think you’d want to pass up on a good deal for nothing, would you?”

“I suppose not…” Phil hummed, leaning back in his seat. “But how do you know we won’t kill you after the payment?”

Ishmael shrugged, “Then that’s the risk we’ll have to take, isn’t it? It’s sure better than dying alone on an island, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Fair enough,” Phil decided. He pushed himself to stand and motioned to a nearby crew member towards the boys, “They can stay. We’re keeping the same route as we were without them.”

“You can’t be serious,” Techno spoke up, standing up to follow after him. A few crewmen were already passing them by to start prepping the ship for departure once more. Techno dodged between them, growling as he hurried to catch up to Phil’s side, “Please, Phil, you can’t really believe any of that, can you? That was the fakest story I’ve ever heard! C’mon! I mean, did you even hear that sob story?! The kid’s claiming to be a prince?!”

Phil only hummed noncommittally, “Now, Techno, I don’t think I ever said I believed them. I said I’d let them stay.”

“Phil, that’s two extra mouths to feed,” Techno sneered back. Phil didn’t need to spare him a glance to know how disgruntled his companion looked. “That’s two extra people wasting space that we don’t need! We could have just left them there! No one would notice! We probably won’t even get any bounty from this! It’ll just be a waste of time!”

“Then I guess we’ll have to wait and see,” Phil answered, patience holding strong as ever. He’d already prepared himself for Techno’s barrage of questions. He had a feeling his first mate wouldn’t be thrilled about keeping a new pair of strays, especially ones that tried to lie their way into staying. “They’re only a couple of kids, mate. They’ll only be here a few weeks at most, then we’ll be rid of them for good. It won’t hurt us to babysit for a while.”

“I didn’t sign up to be a babysitter, Phil! I don’t even like kids!” Technoblade was starting to sound more exasperated by the second. It took everything for Phil not to smile. His normally composed partner was throwing a fit over a couple of stowaways, as if their crew wasn’t built off similar strays. Though Phil supposed the difference was those strays were a little more honest. Phil couldn’t tell if that was the problem, or if Techno was taking difficulty sharing space with more newcomers. Apparently he wasn’t done, so Phil would soon find out.

“I mean, really, Phil. We could take in so many other things. But you choose a couple kids lying that one of them’s some fake king’s heir and the other’s a— a fake captain? Who fakes being a captain! You’ve gotta agree with me here, Phil. ‘Cause I’m sure lying about being a captain is normal,” Techno snarked, “totally normal kid things.”

Phil sighed, and paused in his step. Techno paused with him, just a step behind. Phil turned to face his partner. Techno only stares back at him, expression stoic as ever, but Phil could see the heavy annoyance in his eyes. If Phil hadn’t known him for all the years he had, he would never guess the man was only about as old as the self-proclaimed captain. He’d be a liar if he said it wasn’t starting to show currently, which Phil deemed for better or worse. For as old as he tried to seem, Techno was still quite young.

Phil placed a hand on the younger man’s shoulder, “You worry too much, mate. Yes, it is probably a lie. Honestly, I can’t say I ever believed even a second of any of it, but you saw how they looked. They were sunburnt and thirsty, and likely going to be stranded for the gods only know how long. Do you really think if you were stuck in their situation, you wouldn’t try to say anything you could to make sure you stay alive? Even if it sounded absolutely ridiculous?”

Techno went silent for a moment. Phil watched him mull over his answer. Finally, his partner averted his gaze towards the horizon. “Well I wouldn’t be as obvious about it…”

Phil cracked a laugh, “Oh, I wouldn’t either. It was really obvious, wasn’t it?” He chuckled, and gave Techno’s shoulder a soft squeeze before pulling away to continue walking, “We’ll keep a close eye on them. You can watch them as closely as you want, if that makes you feel any better. If anything seems too suspicious, then we’ll handle it. For now, let them recover. Let them rehydrate and eat, and we’ll just listen to see how their story changes. Maybe if we’re lucky, they’ll be worth their weight after all. It’s just a few weeks.” (Spoiler: it was more than a few weeks and Dadza Phil did the Dadza attachment thing as always.)

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typical-simplelove · 4 years ago

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Part One: Red Envelopes (T. Jost)

Part One to Red Envelopes, Dragon Boats, and Mooncakes; a Tyson Jost fic.

Summary: Kayla and Tyson spend Chinese New Year with Kayla’s family.

Series Masterlist (I ask that you go over to the Masterlist to read a brief message I wrote about this series, thank you!)

Pinterest Link

Author’s note: Here it is!! Part One! I worked so incredibly hard on this and I hope you like it! As the summary says, this first part is during Chinese New Year. Throughout the fic, I have linked links to any references to Chinese culture. I didn’t want to assume a reader knew what I was talking about so I provided pictures for you. I also have a Pinterest Board linked above. Included are a bunch of pins that represent the story and to better understand the culture. (This is just me trying to be helpful, only that, I promise!) There are some words that are written in Chinese. I have put the pronunciation in parenthesis and the meaning are at the end of the sentence in brackets. I hope you enjoy reading this. It is Lunar New Year, if you celebrate, Happy Lunar New Year! If you don’t, I wish you a year filled with good fortune, wealth, and prosperity for you and your family. Please let me know what you thought!

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: Being Chinese, eating meat, a very, very, very small insinuation to sex

Before Lunar New Year

When Tyson came home from practice that day, he was greeted with a note on the door telling him to make sure there was no mud on his shoes from the melted snow outside. He was baffled. In the three years that he and Kayla have been together, never has this request been made via note. Normally, she would yell it to him as he unlocked the door. Making sure that his shoes had no mud on them, Tyson walked in the door cautiously.

When he walked in, Tyson was greeted with tons and tons of shopping bags sitting on the kitchen counter. Despite the shopping bags, Tyson couldn’t see Kayla anywhere. He called out her name. The only sound that was given in return were the sounds of a sponge scrubbing the base of the bathtub.

“You know, babe,” Tyson begins when he’s at the frame of the bathroom door. “I don’t think my mom will care all that much if the bathtub is pristine when they visit. They know the way I am.”

“It’s not just for them,” Kayla responds. “It’s for Chinese New Year.”

Tyson just looks at Kayla confused. He isn’t sure how to respond. Despite being together for three years, Tyson doesn’t know much about her Chinese culture. This thought makes Tyson sad internally. Kayla knows all about his family’s traditions and pregame superstitions but he knows little about much of the Chinese culture and traditions that Kayla grew up with.

“May I ask why you need to clean for Chinese New Year?” Tyson cautiously asks, not wanting to annoy his girlfriend for not knowing something.

“Yeah, you can.” Kayla enthusiastically responds. “Before the New Year each year, families are to participate in cleaning the house together. It is supposed to symbolize clearing the hardships and bad luck of the previous year and opening away for new good fortune for the New Year. Cleaning last year’s fortune and bad luck shows that the family is ready to accept this year’s fortune with open and gracious hands.”

“That’s interesting,” Tyson responds. “How can I help?”

“What?”

“You said that families are to clean the house together, right?” Tyson begins and Kayla nods in response. “So, that means that I should be helping, too, right?”

“Oh, yeah. If you really want to clean, then you can start by cleaning the toilet.”

Tyson and Kayla clean the bathroom and the rest of the apartment in harmony with very little conversation passing between the two. Two hours after Tyson came home, the cleaning of the rest of the apartment was finished. This was when Tyson noticed that Kayla's hair looked as if she went into the salon that day.

“Hey, Kayla?” Kayla turns her head to listen to Tyson. “Did you get a haircut or go to the salon this morning?”

“Yeah, I got a haircut.” Kayla responds.

“May I ask why? It seems kind of out of the blue.”

“It’s because of Chinese New Year.”

With her response, Tyson is feeling sad because he, once again, doesn’t know anything about her traditions. Tyson looks at Kayla with a weird look in his eyes. She can’t seem to decipher what it means but decides to explain the symbolism anyways.

“It’s similar to why we had to clean the house. The cutting or trimming of hair represents that I am wiping away what happened last year. Cutting away the bad luck that occurred last year. When the hair grows back, it represents that the new year brought good fortune to me and my family. It also represents a fresh start.”

“Does this mean I should get a haircut?” Tyson asks, quirking one of his eyebrows and running his hand through his hair.

Kayla laughs. “No, I was going to get a haircut anyways but I thought ‘why not wait until Chinese New Year.’”

“Well, for Chinese New Year or not, your hair looks really beautiful.”

“Thank you, Tys.”

. . .

The next day, Tyson woke up to an empty bed. What he woke up to was not what he was expecting. Lining every corner of the apartment were lanterns. On the coffee table sat four gold ingots. Additionally, all the pillows on the couch were clothed with red pillow cases and the normal throw blankets were sitting in a box and replaced with red blankets. Tyson had no idea what to attribute this to. Christmas was long gone, Valentine’s day maybe? No, hanging from the ceilings would be hearts not lanterns.

“Hey Tys,” Kayla begins. “Sorry, I had to get these up today before we pick up your mom from the airport later today.”

“Why did you have to get it up before she came and what are they all for?”

“Chinese New Year. And it doesn’t matter to do it before she comes but there is a lot we have to do before you go pick her up.”

Kayla’s response shook Tyson to the core. He was upset with himself that Kayla had to explain everything to him. Shouldn’t he just know these things?

“The lanterns are just traditional decorations and the gold ingots sitting on the coffee table represent wealth. The changing of everything to red represents good luck. Sorry, that I’m going overboard this is just what I grew up with.”

“Hey, don’t apologize for anything. I just didn’t know what everything was. Don’t worry about putting up too much.”

“You sure?”

“Absolutely.”

“Well then, in that case, I have these posters that need to go up.”

“Yeah, well, then let me help.”

Kayla passes Tyson a few of the posters and a roll of tape. She directs Tyson on where to put up the poster and demonstrates how.

“How do I know which side is the top and which is the bottom?” Tyson asks.

“The bottom of the character goes at the top and the top of the character goes at the bottom. This one is just the way it looks.” Kayla explains.

“Yes, I understand that. However, I, unlike you, cannot read Chinese and don’t know which is which.”

Kayla giggles and proceeds to point at what she’s showing. “Oh yeah, right. Sorry. Here. Top. Bottom.”

When Tyson and Kayla finish, they both take a step back to take a look at what they did.

“Is this how your parent’s house will look like when we go there in a few days?”

“Maybe, I’m not sure. It always depends. Sometimes they do more and sometimes they do less.” Kayla says before walking away to put oranges on a tray. Tyson goes to reach for one to eat.

“No!!” Kayla abruptly yells. “You can’t have one yet. You have to keep them sitting in your house to symbolize the luck, wealth, and prosperity they bring. Yes, I know it sounds kind of crazy but that’s the way it is.”

“It’s good, babe. If you tell me no, then I won’t eat any. Just make sure to tell my mom. She will definitely want one.”

“Maybe you can do that then, Tys.”

“Are you scared of my mom, babe?”

“No, I just don’t want to come off as a crazy Asian lady that their son is dating. My grandfather on my dad’s side thought that about my mother.”

“Really?” Tyson amusingly asks.

“Yeah. I mean, my dad is not Chinese so it makes sense why they would think that. But, obviously, it worked out for the best as everyone is happy now.”

“I can promise you that she doesn’t think you are a crazy Asian lady.”

“If you say so. Anyways, come on, get ready so that you can go pick up your mom at the airport.”

. . .

“Oh, look, oranges.” Laura, Tyson’s mom, says reaching for an orange on the counter.

“No, you can’t have one. We can’t eat them until Chinese New Year on the 12th. They have to sit on the counter to represent the wealth and luck they bring .” Tyson explains to his mother.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you, Kayla.” Laura apologizes.

“No, no. Don’t worry it’s fine! You didn’t offend me. I have more in the fridge that are good to eat.”

Laura sighs in relief and heads over to the fridge to retrieve an orange.

“Tyson, I didn’t know you remembered any of that what I said. I also don’t remember ever telling you the date.” Kayla tells her boyfriend.

“What’s wrong, Kayla? Don’t think that I take in any information?” Tyson tells her.

“I don’t think that,” Kayla defends herself but is given a raised eyebrow in response from Tyson. “Anyways, on the 12th, we’ll go to my parent’s house for dinner. Tyson doesn’t have a game that day so that works well.”

“Perfect, is there anything in particular that I should wear?” Laura asks.

“Just red is fine, I am going to be wearing a red qipao but other than that the rest of you can wear red or a version of red.”

“Great! I can’t wait! Tyson has been talking my ear off about everything that you have told him this far about the holiday.”

Kayla gives her a puzzled look. “Yeah. I’m glad that he’s excited!”

Later that night, Kayla questions Tyson about what his mom said earlier that day.

“Look, I just feel bad. We have been together for almost three years and yet I know nothing about your Chinese culture.”

“You don’t have to feel bad. I can just tell you things. But, thank you for making an effort to learn more though.”

“Of course. You learned a ton about hockey so it’s my turn to repay the favor. I know it’s not quite the same but still.”

“So, care to tell me what you have learned?”

Tyson laughs. “Really? Are you sure?”

“Yes, I really want to know, Tyson.”

“Ok then. Let me tell you some then. I learned that there is a twelve year cycle for what the zodiac animal was. I learned that mine is a Tiger, which will be celebrated next year. And the year that you celebrate your animal is the years that you turn the ages of the multiples of 12. Like 12, 24, 36, 48, etc.”

Tyson pauses for a moment but Kayla gives him a nod to continue. “The different foods that you eat represent the different fortunes that you wish to eat. Like, noodles mean longevity and fish means surplus. Did you know that one-sixth of the world celebrates Chinese New Year?”

“No, I did not know that.”

“Also, did you know that flowers also have symbolic meanings? Like the plum blossom symbolizes courage and hope. While the water narcissus represents good luck and prosperity. The holiday can also be called the spring festival? Additionally, did you know that you’re not allowed to sweep on Chinese New Year? That means no sweeping, Kayla. I mean it, no sweeping!”

“Yeah. Yeah, sure. I did know some of those facts. Not all of them, like the flowers.”

“See it was a good thing that I googled a ton of facts, right?”

“Yeah, thanks, babe. I love you, Tys.”

“I love you too, Kayla.”

中國新年 (zhong guo xin nian) - Chinese New Year - February 12, 2021

“I’m not sure how intense everything is going to be this year. My parents didn’t really explain. We might do the incense practice. I doubt it, though. It is possible that we might be making dumplings from scratch. But, I also think probably not. They would have told me to warn me because I am really clumsy. I would think it is a little bit more extravagant because Laura will also be joining us.”

“Kayla, slow down your brain. It will be ok.” Tyson tells Kayla trying to calm her down.

“Yeah, you’re right. It shouldn’t be too bad. You won’t be meeting any extended family which is good. That would be chaos right there.”

Everyone in the car laughs at Kayla’s attempt at making a joke.

When the car arrives at Kayla’s parents house, they are all greeted by Kayla’s mom.

“Hi mom, you know Tyson, this is his mom, Laura; Laura, this is my mom, Judy, and my dad, Dave, my sister, Charlotte, her husband, Michael, and her daughter, Elizabeth.”

“Come in, come in. We aren’t doing the incense ceremony this year but we’ll be eating soon. Come in, take a seat.” Judy says.

“Hey, Kayla. What does that sign say?” Tyson asks, pointing to a sign hanging from the ceiling.

“That says 新年快樂 (xin nian kuai le) which means Happy New Year!” Kayla explains.

“Kayla, can you speak the language?” Laura asks.

“Yeah, I can.”

“她說得很好 (ta shuo de hen hao).” Kayla’s grandmother pipes in. [she speaks very well]

“謝謝婆婆 (xie xie po po).” Kayla responds. [thank you, Po Po] “My Po Po said that my speaking is very good and I responded with a thank you. 婆婆這是 (po po zhe shi) Tyson, Laura; everyone, this is Po Po, or my grandmother.” [po po this is]

Kayla’s grandmother waves. “I can speak English, just not good.”

“It’s ok, Mrs. Po Po.” Tyson responds.

Kayla and her grandmother chuckle in response. Before he can ask why, Judy is announcing that dinner is ready.

“So, tonight’s dinner is pork dumplings, steamed fish in soy sauce, braised brisket stew, Yifu noodles, pea shoots, and bok choy.” Judy explains.

Everyone sitting at the table all murmur small acknowledgements of how everything looks and smells really good.

“Hey, Tyson,” Kayla prompts. “Why don’t you tell everyone what each food represents in the terms of good luck and fortune. He’s been Googling things to impress me!”

Tyson’s face grows red and everyone giggles at Tyson’s embarrassment. “If you really want me to and it’s not really to impress you.”

“Please! You can show everyone all the new knowledge that you possess.”

Judy and Dave nod in agreement knowing that Tyson was the only one to put in all this effort for Kayla.

“Um, ok,” Tyson begins, awkwardly. “The dumplings are symbolic of wealth and money; the fish is symbolic of wanting a surplus, I think. I read the surplus is more for the harvest than anything else; however, it can be used synonymous with wanting a surplus of luck in your career. The noodles represent a long life or longevity. And that’s all I can remember.”

“The vegetables represent wishing long life upon elders,” Elizabeth pipes in knowing that Tyson missed that one.

“Very good,” Kayla’s grandmother praises both Tyson and Elizabeth with a smile. Tyson smiles back at her.

The rest of the meal passed in conversations that were filled with catching up, sharing embarrassing stories of Kayla, remembering stories of past New Year’s celebrations, and getting to know the new members of the group, Tyson and Laura.

“Remember when Gong Gong got a haircut but it was so short that it looked like he had no hair and one of the great-uncles told him just to shave it off?” Charlotte remarked with a giggle. [Gong Gong is grandfather.]

“Or, remember that one year we had Chinese New Year at Auntie Lisa’s house and she burned all the food so we ate ramen?” Michael says, reminiscing of the Chinese New Year of his and Charlotte’s first year of dating.

“How about that time that Kayla was in charge of bringing the dumplings into the dining room and she dropped them all over the floor? She was crying so badly and refused to leave the bathroom.” Charlotte says knowing how to bother her sister.

“Yeah! And the rest of you laughed at me and let me be there. I probably would still be in there if it weren’t for Gong Gong. He told me the story of when he messed up the dumplings.” Kayla defends herself. Tyson rubs her back in reassurance.

“I don’t remember that story,” Judy says. Charlotte and Po Po nod in agreement.

“Really? He said that when he was thirteen or fourteen, he was in charge of making the dough for the dumplings. He made it too watery and didn’t know how to fix it. He kept on adding flour but it wouldn’t harden or solidify. He opted to just cook the meat in the shape they would have been inside the dumplings. Gong Gong told me that Wai Po was so mad at him that they didn’t talk for three days.” Kayla spells out. [Wai Po is great-grandmother.]

“I don’t ever remember hearing this.” Judy says.

“I think he told me it wasn’t a New Year Celebration. Just a family dinner. Maybe that’s why.”

“What other stories has Gong Gong told you that we don’t know about?” Charlotte asks, feeling left out.

“Do you know about the story about the chicken he lost but found?” Kayla asks.

“No, what’s that story?”

“He was working in the chicken coop one day and when he got there that morning, he noticed that the gate was already open. When he counted the chickens, there were only six, not seven. Gong Gong spent the entire day trying to find the chicken. He was going to tell Wai Gong and Wai Po. He went into his bedroom before he went to confess and he heard a loud noise from the dresser. He opened it and inside was one of the chickens! Gong Gong was so happy that he grabbed the chicken and danced around with it. That was a bad idea because the chicken scratched Gong Gong’s face. Wai Gong and Wai Po still found out because of the scratch.” [Wai Gong is great-grandfather.]

“I remember that story,” Judy says, smiling at when her father told the story to her.

“Obviously, Kayla was the favorite granddaughter of Gong Gong,” Michael says, getting a laugh out of everyone, except for Charlotte. Charlotte has a pout on her face.

“Don’t worry Charlotte, you are Po Po’s favorite.” Kayla’s grandmother tells her granddaughter. “You have already given me great-grandchildren. Kayla has not.”

Kayla’s grandmother’s response gets an exasperated ‘hey!’ from Kayla.

“Don’t worry, I’m still waiting for grandchildren from Kayla and Tyson, too.” Laura chimes in and now it’s Tyson’s turn to give the same exasperated ‘hey!’

“Us too,” Dave responds.

“I am younger than Charlotte. The least you could do is give me some time!” Kayla defends herself. She is met with an ‘if you say so’ and Tyson was getting a glare from Kayla’s father. “At least I was Gong Gong’s favorite. That has to mean something.”

Once the meal was finished, Chinese tea was brought out to the table and the beginning of the exchange of lucky Red Envelopes began.

“The tea is to honor our elders and ancestors. We have to drink it to remember where we came from and to honor and celebrate where we may get to and become.” Judy explains.

“Do I have to drink this tea? It’s yicky.” Elizabeth whines. Kayla’s sister, Charlotte gives her daughter a stern look but Elizabeth continues complaining about the tea.

“Lizzie, you have to drink the tea.” Kayla’s grandmother explains. “It’s tradition.”

“I hate tradition, then!” Lizzie exclaims and then storms out of the room. Charlotte and Michael apologize profusely and then go and find Lizzie.

“I always hated drinking tea, too,” Kayla’s grandmother explains. “But tradition is important to pass down.”

“I actually like this tea,” Laura says, trying to ease the awkwardness. “May I ask what kind of tea it is?”

“It’s Oolong tea,” Judy responds. “It symbolizes the wish for good health.”

“Maybe I should drink this every morning, then!” Tyson jokes and gets a laugh out of everyone.

Kayla is about to agree with Tyson when Charlotte, Michael, and Elizabeth come back into the kitchen.

“I’m sorry for my outburst, Po Po” Elizabeth says sadly. “I’m sorry for disrespecting the honor of our family traditions.”

No one says anything because everyone is waiting for Kayla’s grandmother to respond first. Kayla’s grandmother gets up and everyone is hesitant as to what she might say.

“I was like you and didn’t want to participate in tradition. It is important to remember.” Kayla’s grandmother says to Elizabeth. When Elizabeth nods, Kayla’s grandmother smiles and pulls out a Red Envelope for Charlotte.

“這是你的紅包 (zhe shi ni de hong bao)” Kayla’s grandmother says. [This is your red envelope.]

“恭喜發財, 外婆. (gong xi fa cai, wai po)” Elizabeth replies with a bow and hugs her grandmother. [Wishing you luck and good fortune, Great-Grandmother.]

After Kayla’s grandmother gives her red envelope to Elizabeth, the exchange continues with Judy, Dave, Charlotte, Michael, and Kayla receiving theirs. Each responds the same as Elizabeth. A surprise for both Laura and Tyson is when Kayla’s grandmother walks over to them to give them red envelopes. Both are shocked and don’t know how to respond. Tyson gives Kayla a look and she jumps in to help him and Laura.

“You respond with gong xi fa cai and then bow.” Kayla tells Tyson and Laura. Both of them reply hesitantly not wanting to butcher the language too bad. When Kayla’s grandmother smiles and nods at Kayla, Tyson releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding and smiles at Kayla.

After Kayla’s grandmother gives her red envelopes, Judy passes out her red envelopes to Charlotte, Michael, Kayla, and Elizabeth. The four of them then reply the same way. Once again, Tyson and Laura are surprised when Judy gives them red envelopes. The pair have to look to Kayla again for how to respond. After they finish replying, Charlotte then gives her red envelope to Elizabeth and Kayla gives her red envelope to Elizabeth as well.

Once the exchange of red envelopes had been completed, Kayla’s grandmother lightened up the mood by asking, “Who wants dessert?” For dessert that night was sesame balls and glutinous rice cakes.

. . .

“Congrats, Tys,” Kayla says as she and Tyson are getting ready for bed. “My grandmother likes you. And Laura, too.”

“How do you know that?” Tyson questions skeptically.

“A. You learned about Chinese culture willingly. B. She gave you a red envelope. And, C. she talked to you. If she didn’t like you then she wouldn’t have talked to you at all.”

Tyson doesn’t say anything, still skeptical about that fact. “Don’t worry, Tys. I think she knows you’re a good person and that you are going to be in the family for a while and help me make great-grandchildren for her.”

That remark got a smile out of Tyson. Tyson was about to say something but he stopped when he saw you put your red envelopes under your pillow case.

“Kayla, what are you doing?”

“I am putting my red envelopes under my pillow case.”

“No yeah, sure I see that, but why?”

“It’s for luck purposes. You put them under your pillow and wait fourteen days before you open them.”

“Good to know. Let me do the same.”

Once settled into bed and red envelopes securely under the pillow, Kayla and Tyson cuddle into each other. On both of their faces are soft smiles at how great the day went.

Part two will be posted on February 19, 2021

#hockey imagine #hockey fic #tyson jost imagine #tyson jost x reader #nhl imagine #hockey fanfiction #colorado avalanche imagine #tyson jost #chinese culture fic #chinese new year #red envelopes dragon boats and mooncakes #woc oc!#lunar new year #claudia writes

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a-libra-writes · 4 years ago

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How the Peaky Blinders React To You Being Shy

ok so the original request was “could you do how they would react when their girlfriend is very quiet but talks a lot when she's excited but kind of cuts herself off in fear of talking too much?” but then i uh ,, ,went overboard like i do so here yall go lmao. bad title is bad

In this imagine, you’ll be with: Tommy Shelby, Arthur Shelby, John Shelby, Ada Shelby, Polly Grey, Michael Grey, Alfie Solomons, Isaiah Jesus, Luca Changretta, Aberama Gold

TOMMY SHELBY

Even if you had worked for the Shelbys for more than a year, he hardly talked to you directly. You were so quiet, and while you were very pretty, the shy sort of girls just didn’t catch Tommy’s attention. This changed on a day when he stopped by Charlie and Curly’s, and saw you excitedly talking to them about a horse Tommy had just bought. When he made himself known, you went red in the face, clammed up and shied away while Charlie talked to him.

First of all, it was strikingly cute, and Tommy didn’t often think that about anything. Secondly, he hated the idea that you might be anxious around him. Tommy said you could come see and ride the horse anytime, and still after that, kept trying to talk to you and see your eyes light up again.

Once you two are in a relationship, whenever you start excitedly talking about something, he’s quiet and pays complete attention to you. You’re still as quiet and shy as the day he met you, but not to him - which he privately likes. He enjoys being one of the few people you open up to.

ARTHUR SHELBY

From the day you first started working for the Shelbys, Arthur thought you were gorgeous. He completely lost his train of thought when he walked in and saw you, and John had to snap his attention away. He tried talking to you best as he could, but you were so quiet, and often had trouble looking at him. Arthur was convinced that you didn’t like him, so he tried to give up on his crush, as much as it hurt. (Okay, well, he couldn’t stop thinking about you that easily, so he just admired you from a distance).

One day he saw you outside the shop for the first time, and couldn’t keep himself from seeing what you were doing. You were bundling up a cat you found on the street. If that wasn’t precious enough, you were happy to see him and chattered about the cat, how you’d been feeding it and earning it’s trust, and you wanted to take it back home to treat its wounded leg. He walked you back home and once there, you blushed and clammed up, and apologized for taking up so much of his time. Arthur blurted you could have as much of his time as you wanted.

He visited you every day, using the cat as a lame excuse, and before long you two were dating. He was so relieved you weren’t afraid of him, he couldn’t help but confess as soon as possible. Whenever he gets you talking about something you like, he can’t help but grin and look at you like you hang the moon. He does tend to be protective of you, especially in big crowds, and he gets an adorably jealous expression whenever you chat animatedly with his brothers.

JOHN SHELBY

He was drawn to you right away, so he wasted no time in trying to chat you up and get to know you, even when Polly scolded him many times to let you focus on your work. You shied away so much and made excuses that he worried you were scared of him. John tried to brush that off, but it ended up bothering him more than he wanted it to. It was Ada who told him he was coming on way too strong, you were a shy and sweet sort of girl who didn’t need him messing with her heart (that last part may have ended with a not so subtle threat).

John wasn’t deterred, though. He just had to get to know you better, and when he he caught you outside of work, he noticed you were admiring several cars. This was his chance, and he was grinning like a dork once you began chattering away at different models of automobiles and engines. He absolutely showed you the Shelby car and even drove you home several times after work.

John is still much louder and more outgoing than you. During parties he'll take a minute to ask if you're comfortable and won't hesitate to take you home, he also makes a point to have everyone shut up if you want to say something during a family meeting. He loves it when you explain things to him because of how you word it and your voice - he could listen to you rattle off a weather report.

ADA SHELBY

Ada was drawn to your sweetness right away. She didn’t have many friends herself when you met, and while you were bashful, you were also honest. Ada always encouraged you to speak up for yourself and to not be afraid of other people’s opinions, especially after she stopped seeing her family for a while.

She adores how you light up when you talk about something you love, and she’ll always shush someone if you’re talking like this. It makes her SO angry when someone tries to speak over you. If you ever feel insecure about being shy or introverted, Ada will quickly tell you it’s one of your most endearing traits … though you’re certain she thinks anything you do is “endearing”.

POLLY GRAY

She wasn’t so sure about hiring someone outside the family for some bookkeeping and secretariat work, but Polly was impressed with your punctuality, thoroughness, and most importantly … You kept your mouth shut. Polly was the most hesitant to hire you at first, but once you proved your loyalty, she was quick to get to know you personally. She really felt you ought to speak up more, and not be so shy; especially in their line of business.

Pol has no regard for anyone who tries to talk over you or intimidate you, and anytime the Shelby boys (or anyone else) tries to flirt, they tend to get a glare from her. To say Pol is protective of you is a bit of an understatement; sometimes you worry she sees you more like a little girl than a woman.

Still, she means well, and it’s Polly who invites you to tea at her house and gets you to laugh and chat about all sorts of things. She’s very relaxed around you, and has confided in you many times, confident you’ll keep her secrets, as you keep the secrets of the Shelby company.

MICHAEL GRAY

At first, Michael got a little frustrated with you. He was fond of you, but he didn’t understand why you were seemingly afraid of him - okay, maybe he didn’t have the friendliest expression sometimes, and maybe you overheard him arguing business, but sometimes you’d just spend almost an hour in the same room together, saying nothing. Finally Polly had to give him advice, she thought you were a nice girl and not the type to be impressed by jewels and extravagance.

So, Michael started to do soft small talk and would bring you something nice, like a small vase of flowers for your desk or a cute box of sweets. You didn’t care for the grand parties that he’d partake in, so after work he’d linger behind and ask about your evening plans - probably slip and ask about a boyfriend, too. One of these evenings he got you chattering, and it was such a change, seeing your eyes light up and your cute smile as you talked. You both ended up staying way later than intended, and Michael was even later to the party because he wanted to drive you home.

Even after you’ve been dating for a while, Michael wants to spoil you with beautiful things and have you on his arm at parties and important business meetings. When he notices you start to shy away, he’ll ask if you’re alright and if you want to leave early. He always has a driver on hand to take you home if that’s what you wish, though he obviously prefers to do this himself. He has zero patience for anyone trying to egg you into talking more or asking pointed questions; he’ll shut them down harshly.

ALFIE SOLOMONS

You were one of the secretaries for their “legitimate” store fronts, one that Alfie had to visit often, and holy shit if you weren’t the cutest thing he’d ever seen. He always liked to tease the new secretaries once or twice, but you were the only one who lit up like a fire engine and stammered. He told your boss to make sure you were working the days he came in, and he’d spend several minutes teasing you and getting you to blush before starting business.

He did feel a little bad for always flustering you, and he wasn’t totally sure if you even appreciated the attention, so he figured he’d buy some flowers as an apology and (maybe) let up on teasing you. The thing is, you gave him the sunniest smile when he delivered them, and you started to chatter about the flowers with total confidence. You didn’t even shy away from his gaze or stumble over your words, you were so excited about whatever rare lily he bought - is that what it was? - and when your boss walked in to greet him, you clammed up. Alfie immediately told the man to fuck off and go back into his office.

After you’re together, Alfie still likes to good-naturedly tease you, but he’s great at getting you to chatter away at this or that. He encourages you to be more confident, but he knows it isn’t that easy. If anyone attempts to talk over you or interrupt, they get a terrifying glare from your boyfriend.

ISAIAH JESUS

Isaiah was SO sure you were just being aloof on purpose, that you were making him go through some kind of test. He heard about girls doing things like that, so he’d talk big game around you to impress you … Only to glance over and noticed you had walked away at some point. His father thought the crush was amusing, and it was him who said you were a shy girl who needed a gentler touch. Isaiah worried he’d mess it up somehow, but it ended up coming to him easily. His favorite thing was to stop by when you were leaving your workplace, so he could take you for a quick bite to eat, or he’d show up on your break to give you flowers or some sweets he just “happened” to have.

Once he found out how far your house was from your home, Isaiah liked to walk with you in the evenings. First the conversation was short and a little awkward, but then he started asking questions and got you talking, which he was very proud of. He’d quickly ignore anyone calling out to him in favor of walking and chatting with you. His friends would tease him once he finally showed up at the Garrison, but he’d just talk about how pretty and sweet you were, zero shame in his voice as he went on about his crush. It wasn’t too long before he asked you out.

Isaiah prefers to keep you separate from his gang life. Admittedly, he used to treat you like you were too fragile to handle the truth, but you quickly proved him wrong when you treated his wounds and scolded him for worrying you. Whatever you’re interested in, he likes to find out more about it so he can surprise you.

LUCA CHANGRETTA

Luca often flirts with the new girls who work for his family, and he found you especially charming. Once he realized how shy you were, he became gentler with his words, speaking to you in a more flattering way, loving how red your cheeks would get. He started to become very fond of you, and even a little protective - if his men tried to flirt as well, he’d irritably tell them to keep to themselves. He wished he could talk to you and learn more about you, but he also didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.

His wish was swiftly granted during the huge Christmas celebration his family always threw. They invited everyone from closest family to minor acquaintances, so of course you were there. Not only were you radiant in your dress, you were talking animatedly to some friends, and Luca couldn’t stop staring. He wanted to step in, to have you talk to him and look at him that way, but he didn’t want to interrupt the story you were telling, so he just listened.

The next he saw you, he made a point to casually bring up whatever you were talking about, and he tried to contain his happiness at how you began happily chatting away like you did with your friends. When you blushed and apologized for it, he was quick to ask you questions to keep you talking.

ABERAMA GOLD

Pretty girls often caught his eye, and not only were you that, you seemed to be the only quiet, reasonable person amongst the Shelbys. He liked to observe you, watching in amusement how you’d take careful notes, making little expressions as you wrote: rolling your eyes, biting your lip and so on. He casually asked after you when Arthur was drunk and got plenty of information. Whenever he’d see the Shelbys for business, Aberama made a point to say hello to you and exchange some words.

It was just fun flirting at first, but then he sent you into chatterboxing and when your hands hastily flew to your mouth to shut it, Aberama grabbed your wrists without thinking and asked you to please continue. Now he was too far gone. He’d bring you flowers, a bottle of wine, and you’d blush to your ears whenever Lizzie teased about where it came from. Tommy bluntly told him to stop flirting with his secretary whenever you were working.

It didn’t take long at all for him to ask you on proper dates. He’d want to take you wherever he goes, but he understands if you’d rather keep to yourself, especially at the rowdy boxing matches or big parties at the Garrison. His favorite thing is when you tug on his sleeve and make him lean down so you can whisper something to him.

LIZZIE STARK

Lizzie noticed you were a shy sort right away, and how easily you tended to blend into the hectic workplace of their company. She thought you were pretty, and had little opinion beyond that ... Until she noticed how clever and adept you were with the work, and how easily you handled the more interesting sides of the Shelbys. She made a point to talk to you, because in a way, she felt a bit of comradeship with you.

You started taking lunch together and she was delighted by how you’d go off on these tangents or deep discussions of work. Lizzie would sharply stop you anytime you apologized for talking too much, or anything, really - she wanted you to build confidence and insisted it started with stopping all these apologies. Anytime the men would talk over you, she’d give you a look and nudge you forward to say your piece. Polly and Ada teased her about her favoritism, and Lizzie thought it was very cute when you’d blush at their words.

You’re much more open with her in private, which she likes, and with her encouragement you’ve become more confident at work. If you’re still feeling nervous around strangers, especially all the parties you two are dragged to, you two have a system where you nudge her hand or say an innocuous word, and you both slip out and go home.

#peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinders #thomas shelby x reader #arthur shelby x reader #john shelby x reader #michael gray x reader #luca changretta x reader #alfie solomons x reader #isaiah jesus x reader #ada shelby x reader #polly gray x reader

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turquoise-skyyyy · 4 years ago

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The Solution To Everything(Is Hair Dye)

Note: Human AU! First time posting writing on tumblr lmao, and I wanted to try a bit of a different writing style... so there’s that.

Just a little writing practice paired with Marellinh fluff n kinda angst ig :)

Word count: uhhh i went overboard

Blurb: Linh is lonely, with no one in the world left by her side, hurt, by all that she’s lost, and possibly has an ever-so-slight crush on her elusive blonde neighbor. Marella needs someone to dye her hair within the day, and Linh happens to have exactly what she needs, in more ways than one.

When Linh wakes late in the night, startled from her dozing state on the couch in her dimly lit living room to the sound of persistent knocking, she certainly doesn’t expect to find the blonde neighbor she’s been inconspicuously watching— she’s still trying to convince herself that casually watching the girl enter her house anytime she got the chance wasn’t stalking— for the past three weeks since she moved in next door to be on the other side. And when the panting girl in front of her sucks in a breath, Linh definitely doesn’t expect the words that spill from her lips—

“Can you dye my hair?”

Linh blinks with bewilderment, still trying to process that the girl is here, on her doorstep. Not to mention really, really pretty. Annoyingly so, to the point where Linh’s tired brain has to avert her eyes to focus on forcing her mouth to form words.

“What?”

The girl smiles apologetically, and suddenly Linh’s throat feels dry. The girl’s beauty is much more manageable from a distance, through subtle glances out of the corner of her eye across the hall.

“My roomates— screw them— dared me to dye my hair bright green by tomorrow. I lost a bet.” She looks away. “And you have green hair dye, so...”

Linh stares dumbly, trying to puzzle out how to respond to such a random, odd request. Though she moved into the apartment complex almost a month ago and her maybe sort of possible little crush lives just next door, her mind is still trying to register the fact that they have finally crossed paths. And the girl has come to her, no less.

“How do you know I have hair dye?” The hair dye is something she’s gotten to send to Tam. The silver in his hair is something he kept in long after she cut it off and cut off their parents. He still hangs on, and Linh wants to change that, even if they haven’t spoken in a year. She isn’t going to send it though, she knows. She always chickens out. Her brother’s silence for the past year isn’t easy to face. Still, she buys brightly-colored dyes frequently on the off chance that a lightning strike of confidence will hit her. It hasn’t happened yet, but it’s a comforting routine anyway.

The girl blushes, scratching the back of her neck bashfully and shifting from foot to foot. The movement draws Linh’s eyes to her shoes. They’re ratty sneakers, and upon closer inspection, it looks like there are messy, multi-colored words scribbled all over the sides. The weird shoes match the long, tacky rainbow socks that go up to her knees and the bright, tie-dye, too big sweater draped over her surprisingly small frame, with black leggings to top off the outfit underneath.

“Well, I saw you coming back in from the supermarket yesterday and there was a box of green hair dye poking out of the bags...” she trails off. “Oh my god. I sound like a stalker, don’t I? I swear I’m not.”

Linh can’t help the delirious, sleep-deprived giggle that escapes at the words. It’s ridiculous to her, that the girl she’s been following and observing as subtly as humanly possible because she’s just so pretty and Linh wants to know everything is the one worrying about being a creep.

The girl grins at her laughter, the question still burning in her eyes, which are an even brighter shade of blue than Linh realized up close.

She clicks her phone on, checking the time discreetly. It’s late, nearly midnight. The hair dye takes at least an hour, most likely more, to finish. She has an exam at nine the next day that she still hasn’t studied for and she hasn’t yet messaged Tam for her daily one-sided check-in that he never responds to, or even reads.

She looks back up at the girl with thin braids threaded through thick, golden locks, framing beautiful ice blue eyes set in a still blushing face, waiting for her at her doorstep with an open gaze and just maybe, an open mind.

Her stupid, fluttering heart makes a decision before her rational mind can catch up.

“Come on in.”

-ˋˏ *.·:·.⟐.·:·.* ˎˊ-

The girl, who introduces herself as Marella, asks her if she’s always so quiet.

Linh snorts, resisting the urge to point out that Marella is the one invading the house of a relative stranger in the middle of the night. Of course, there’s also the fact that she let her, and that isn’t even considering how flustered the blonde makes her. Especially in such close proximity, where she can smell the faint lavender wafting off her hair. Linh never would have pegged her for a lavender girl.

And when she leans closer to touch up the roots again, she realizes that Marella smells of something spicy. It’s good, comforting, like the home-cooked meals made with love that Linh only ever got to experience in other people’s houses because hers never truly felt like home, or the smell of wood when it was burned in a desperate attempt to keep the warmth in the winter because woolen hats and group hugs were never quite enough to warm everyone’s toes.

Linh has to remind herself to keep working her fingers through the hair.

-ˋˏ *.·:·.⟐.·:·.* ˎˊ-

Linh is thankful when the summer sun finally leaks away and is replaced by autumn wind. There’s something calming about the crisp air blowing through the hair that escapes from tightly-zipped thin hoodies and the leaves bleeding red and gold. She much prefers it to the heat of the summer, or the harshness of winter, the temperatures of which she can never quite escape from completely.

When she pulls open the doors to a nearby cafe and lets the smell of warmth and caffeine wash over her face, and falls into line to order, she isn’t expecting to be behind a girl with a mane of blonde hair that’s streaked through with bright green that hurt the eyes and small braids that sway when she shifts. And Linh’s weeks of watching from a distance pay off— and the hard-to-ignore green certainly helps— because she recognizes the girl immediately.

It’s Marella, sporting the new, significantly greener look that she gained by Linh’s own hands. Linh blushes at the reminder of the night weeks ago. She’s surprised to find that it was the first time she’s seen the girl since their unintentional night together. She’s been so occupied with settling in, getting organized, figuring out independence, and attempting to reach out to her absentee brother, that she hasn’t even noticed the girl’s absence. It seems her creeper skills have gotten rusty, which should make her happy but instead causes the barest amounts of disappointment to creep up. Even from afar, Marella is lively and brightens, or at least eases, the monotonous days that all seem to bleed into each other in one eternal, never-ending passage of pain.

“Hey!” Marella’s voice jolts Linh from her thoughts. “Nice to see you here!”

“H-Hi!” Linh stutters. She thinks the girl’s impossibly blue, intent gaze will always catch her off guard.

Her gaze shifts to the green in Marella’s hair, the harsh coloring softened by the sunlight streaming in through the windows of the cafe and bouncing off the bright strands.

“Your hair looks nice.”

Marella touches a hand to her neon green-streaked look and smirks. “All thanks to you.”

Linh’s cheeks warm at the praise. By the time they reach the orders taken down, Marella has somehow convinced Linh to sit and drink with her. She takes Linh’s wrist lightly and guides her to a table, an action that makes Linh’s face heat again. She looks down at the thin fingers encircling her arm to make sure she isn’t dreaming, and is elated to find that she isn’t.

And sitting in that booth, sipping their warm coffees and exchanging even warmer smiles, Linh’s romantic fantasies from afar suddenly seem a lot closer than she ever thought possible.

-ˋˏ *.·:·.⟐.·:·.* ˎˊ-

Linh isn’t sure exactly how she’s gone from watching her neighbor from a(very far) distance to being dragged into her unfamiliar apartment to be introduced to her roommates, but she can’t say she’s complaining.

As nerve-wracking as it is to be inside Marella’s house, she has to admit that the chance of pace from routine is something she would have been too scared to do herself. Had Marella not knocked on her door and practically shoved her out of her own with an evil grin on her face and into the girl’s shared one just minutes before, she might have stayed holed up in her own apartment forever, seldom leaving and only ever for basic necessities.

Patterns are nice, reliable, and most of all, consistent, something that Linh has never had before, and up until a year ago, had given up on attaining, but there’s something undeniably exciting about throwing caution to the wind and launching herself into a new situation.

However, there is the slight problem of said new situation happening to be making a good impression on her crush’s roommates, who are all staring down at her stoically in a solid line of four with their arms crossed and their gazes narrowed. It reminds Linh of the stereotypical movie tropes in which the overprotective dad interrogates the unnecessarily perfect Mary Sue’s new boyfriend when she brings him home for the first time, and she has to force herself not to laugh in the faces of the people glaring down at her. They’re all at least half a head taller than her, excluding the brunette girl, who has the most terrifying expression of them all on her face.

Three hours later, Linh is laughing tears of joy and drinking hot cocoa with whipped cream and cinnamon with the scary roommates in their warmly lit, cozy living room, who’s first impression couldn’t have been more wrong.

The scary-looking brunette girl isn’t actually one of Marella’s roommates, instead living with the other brunette, her brother, at home with their parents. Her name is Biana, she has an attachment to the color purple that everyone else seems to make fun of her for, and an affinity for randomly throwing out the others’ clothes and replacing them with ones she deems good enough to be seen out with.

Her brother, who’s name is Fitzroy— everyone teases him about this— is better known as Fitz. He is smart, put-together, and as Marella refers to him, their group’s resident “tired dad”. He’s dating Dex, the nerdy but sarcastic actual roommate of Marella.

Then there is Sophie, who was in the kitchen when Linh first came in, and Keefe, the former being Dex’s cousin and Marella’s second roommate who is constantly done with everyone’s shenanigans; Marella claims that Fitz, the actually responsible one, can never be bothered to do anything about their spontaneous endeavors most of the time. The latter, on the other hand, is the most mischievous of the bunch who Linh also knows the least about. His smiles and grins are the most abundant, but also the most weighted. Linh suspects there is a lot more to him than she’ll ever be able to fully grasp.

Linh’s surprised with how well she fits in with these people. They seem so much lighter and freer than her, a girl still tainted and chained down by the past and the experiences that came with it. They welcome her with open arms, and hours later, when dusk falls and it’s time for her to leave, the wrap her up in a hug and make her swear she’ll come back .She sinks into the hug, thinking that after knowing their light, she can’t possibly stay away.

Linh will forever owe all this new warmth in her life to Marella, who is perhaps the warmest of them all.

-ˋˏ *.·:·.⟐.·:·.* ˎˊ-

Fluffy blankets are good. Warm, cozy, comfortable, the kind of little thing in life that makes most people feel fuzzy feelings of nostalgia as they think back to the times they wrapped themselves up in warm blankets on the days they were feeling overwhelmed by the world, when they sat in messily-built blanket forts with their best friends and told scary stories during the devil’s hour with only a flashlight illuminating their evil grins, or the fights with their siblings to get the bigger portion of the blanket when they were forced to share a bed.

Unless that person is Linh, in which case all chances of that were stripped away by a pressured childhood where no room felt safe when her parents were near, friends were disapproved of, and anything that could knock the Song family from the top was discarded before either of the children could protest.

But whether it’s a childhood like Linh’s, or one where everything went perfectly, the fact can generally be agreed on: fluffy blankets are a good, good thing.

But Linh doesn’t think she was ever aware just how perfect fluffy blankets can be until they came piled in the arms of a blonde girl with tiny braids and green threaded through her waves at the door.

“Movie night?” Marella asks, wiggling a laptop in her other hand. “I noticed that you don’t have a TV yet.”

Linh lets her in, eager to spend more time with just her and especially eager to share another night with just the two of them. The idea of being in a dimly lit room wrapped in blankets with their bodies pressed together and only the light of a screen illuminating their faces doesn’t hurt either.

They curl up together on the couch without a second thought, as if they’ve been doing so all their lives. Linh adores the way Marella’s head fits in the crook of her neck like the last missing piece of a puzzle, and holds her breath as the blonde reaches across her and presses play on Netflix once they’ve settled.

When the girl falls asleep on Linh’s shoulder an hour later, she cuddles closer to the warmth of the fluffy blanket and her— crush, or love, maybe, she doesn’t know— pressing to her side.

-ˋˏ *.·:·.⟐.·:·.* ˎˊ-

As nice of a distraction as Marella and her strange roommates can be in the months that pass, Linh has to come crashing back down to reality at some point. And crash she does, when the banging on her door at nine o’clock at night opens to the face she knows as well as her own.

Her brother, approaching her for the first time in years, bringing nothing but news of their father’s death.

Linh knows she should be feeling something. That she should be falling to her knees and sobbing dramatically, like a protagonist in a drama novel, or maybe grabbing his hands and begging him to tell her that it isn’t true. Instead, when Tam bears the news, all she can do is match his emotionless expression. After all, what is there to feel?

And why is she in such desperate need of comfort when, truth be told, she feels no suffering?

She can’t explain her mind’s twisted way of thinking, but she does know that it’s what leads her next door, and what pushes her to throw her arms around Marella’s neck when she comes to the door decked in pajamas and those long, irritating rainbow-striped socks that she loves so much.

Linh likes to believe that it’s her petty grudge against the annoying socks that makes her cry on Marella’s shoulder that night, but hiding from the truth isn’t as easy as she likes to believe.

And when Marella wraps her in a fuzzy blanket that rains tufts of fine fluff on their heads and pulls her in close, Linh has a hard time believing fluffy blankets aren’t the answer to all the world’s problems.

Confidence has finally come to her, and she’s able to give Tam a box of hair dye before he leaves. She doesn’t know if he’ll use it, or when she’ll see him again, but the smallest spark of light in his eyes when he takes the dye and turns it over in his hand is enough hope for her.

-ˋˏ *.·:·.⟐.·:·.* ˎˊ-

When Marella appears at her door in the middle of the night this time, weeks since Linh’s father died and they last saw each other, Linh is surprised that she isn’t surprised. After all, surely there’s something seriously wrong if the only thing she says when someone comes knocking at her door at exactly three minutes past midnight is, “Did you bring the hair dye?”

She pulls the blonde inside softly, takes the fuzzy blanket still draped on her couch from their movie night, and wraps it around the girl’s shivering frame. Marella starts to sob on her shoulder. Her fingers wrap around Linh’s neck and latch onto her, bringing them both down to the carpet when her knees give. Linh immediately wraps an arm around her and holds her close.

Linh doesn’t know what’s wrong, but she does know that Marella is leaning on her for support, and she does know that she will always be here, for as long as the blonde might need.

When she finally stops crying and lets Linh reach gentle fingers to wipe her cheeks, and pulls out electric blue hair dye that brings a smile to both of their faces, Linh has a hard time believing that hair dye isn’t the cure for everyone’s sorrows.

-ˋˏ *.·:·.⟐.·:·.* ˎˊ-

Linh finds it funny that one can promise themselves one thing-- that they are going to try as hard as they can not to connect with others as a means of protecting themselves, for example-- but still end up breaking the promise if the right temptation crosses their path.

And her temptation? A certain blue-eyed blonde with now bright blue highlights who’s devious smirks and snarky words can snap Linh’s resolve in a second. She knows she should hate her for it, but surrounded by mischievous roommates with twinkling eyes and light smiles filled to the brim with warmth, she can’t help but snuggle closer to her weakness.

Her weakness, who is currently failing to dominate the board in a (not-so)friendly game of Christmas Monopoly. Marella informed her that it’s a holiday classic when she dragged her inside the house just an hour before, but judging by the rabid way the players are screaming at each other, Linh can’t say she agrees.

“What do you mean, the empire kind is the wrong kind?” Keefe screeches. “Duh, it’s easier!”

“For you, maybe! But it’s not the original!” Dex retorts.

Keefe jabs a finger at the board. “Then why are you still playing and why are you in second place?” He throws his hands up. “If you’re so mad about it, then stop playing and let the rest of us noncomplainers win.”

“Noncomplainers isn’t a word, Keefe,” Fitz says, idly shuffling the assortment of multi-colored money laid out in front of him. As banker, he’s the calmest and least angry of the bunch, though there’s something oddly menacing about the way he rearranges his money with careful, poised fingers.

Keefe, Dex, and Fitz are circled around the board, all nursing mugs of hot cocoa(which Linh has realized is a sort of trademark for them) in between bouts of shrieking, while Sophie left a little while ago to buy original Monopoly just in case Keefe and Dex destroy the board. Linh laughed when the exasperated blonde said it, but now she can see why it’s a legitimate concern.

Linh curls her cold feet in from her position on the long couch, and Marella automatically shifts the fluffy blanket they’re sharing to fully cover her toes again. Linh smiles up at her gratefully, and Marella offers a small smirk back. Then she goes right back to screaming. Linh debates calling Sophie and asking her to bring back ear plugs too.

“Whatever,” Biana scoffs. “You’re all sore losers.”

She is currently winning, as she has been for the entire game, and she glares down at the boys huddling around the game board from her perch in one of the armchairs.

And on it goes. At the end of the night, when Monopoly money is scattered on the floor and a smoking dinner that’s just a bit too salty is shared and hastily wrapped presents tied with glittery bows are exchanged(Marella is too impatient to wait for Christmas morning), Linh finds herself full of more love and joy than she thinks she ever has been in her entire life. There’s something oddly comforting about being with people who care for and accept her, even if it’s by default or association. Having someone who cares is a rare light in her life that most people take for granted.

Especially when there’s the smallest chance that the person who truly holds her heart returns her feelings.

-ˋˏ *.·:·.⟐.·:·.* ˎˊ-

It’s the night before Christmas and Linh can’t sleep.

It’s the tossing and turning type of ‘can’t sleep’, the kind where Linh lies awake long after dark waiting for her mind and conscience to stop running around in circles around her head, the kind where her insecurities grow claws and fangs and sink them in skin-deep, where there is no light slipping through the cracks to keep them at bay.

And Linh hates that kind of ‘can’t sleep’.

It makes her antsy, on edge, and the urge to pace itches at her feet. The unfamiliar surface of the floor of Marella’s bedroom only makes matters worse, and as softly as she tries to twist under the thin covers, it doesn’t take long for the rustling on the floor to alert the blonde girl dozing off above her.

Marella slides to the floor sleepily before Linh can whisper a protest and lands next to her on the mattress with a grunt. Linh rolls over to face her, and is startled by how close their faces are. She can count the light freckles on Marella’s nose and cheeks when she’s this close. Moonlight is streaming into the room through the cracks in the shutters of the window, painting streaks of glowing white on the blonde’s face. She always looks beautiful, but Linh finds there’s something especially intimate about her in this moment. The air is suddenly buzzing with palpable tension, making her palms go slick with sweat and her mind hyper-aware of every movement. She can’t take her eyes off Marella.

Then, girl of Linh’s dreams breaks the stillness, leaning forward and pressing soft, sleepy lips to her own.

She’s asleep by the time she draws away, but Linh is shaking with adrenaline. It’s the moment she’s waited for so long she can hardly think of a time where she didn’t want the blonde.

And yet.

Linh’s the kind of girl with baggage, with the kind of ‘skeletons in the closet’ that people run away screaming from, not because it’s scary, but because it’s messy. Complicated. It bogs everyone who knows down, making every action in her presence laborious and painful with the knowledge of her past. Even her brother, who once promised to be by her side forever, wouldn’t stay.

She knows it’s irrational, but suddenly she can’t imagine how to face Marella.

She slips out of the apartment in the early hours of the morning so Marella’s blue gaze can’t stop her from running away. But despite her misgivings, the insecurities that still haven’t retracted their claws, and the voice in the back of her head whispering that she has to have imagined it, Linh can’t stop touching a finger to her lips, long after she’s left the buzzing moonlit atmosphere that allows slips of self control under the cover of night.

-ˋˏ *.·:·.⟐.·:·.* ˎˊ-

It’s been weeks. Three weeks and five days, to be exact, and Linh still can’t figure out how to face her.

With every day that passes, she can feel the strong bonds they formed weakening. That’s one thing about relationships. They need an equal amount of effort. If Linh doesn’t put in enough, the object of her affection slips between her fingers before she can blink. That’s how she lost her brother, her friends, and any last semblance she might have had of “family”.

That is, until Marella.

She was persistent, even in the beginning, fighting to spend more and more time with a mildly resistant Linh, until she found it impossible to stay away. Her light is unlike any Linh has ever known, wild and fluid like an eternal flame that can’t be doused. That flame kept Linh alive for all these months, and yet here she is, ignoring it. Maybe even putting it through pain.

It takes a month, but it finally comes to her.

She realizes now that love isn’t something that affects only her, and that she isn’t the only one to win or lose in it. She isn’t the only person in love.

Love is two people, three people, ten people, a hundred people. Love is everyone who forces themselves into her life with the intent of staying no matter how dark it gets. Love is the flickers of light in the night and the bold streaks of sun in the morning. Love is the twinkling stars splattered across a purple painted sky.

Love is illumination. Love is clarity. Love is a path paved special, with different twists and turns for everyone.

Love is...

Marella.

Love is Marella.

-ˋˏ *.·:·.⟐.·:·.* ˎˊ-

Weeks of radio silence after months of talking nonstop is hard to bounce back from, and they both know this well.

But Linh comes back anyway. She comes knocking on Marella’s door exactly a month after they last talked, this time she being the one to approach at random in the middle of the night. When the door opens and she smiles apologetically, pressing a butterfly kiss to Marella’s forehead and pushing a big blanket and a bright, eye-melting color of hair dye into her arms in a silent apology, all Marella does is smile and pull her back in for a real, proper kiss.

Yeah, neon green and fluffy blankets are the solution to everything.

#i did a thing #well this was fun #kotlc #kotlc au #marella redek #linh song #marellinh #the amount of times i wrote 'marellinh' instead of marella is ridiculous #i refuse to go through and edit this again #skyyyy'swriting

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omegatheunknown · 3 years ago

Text

AEW Double or Nothing 2021

In which the spirit of WCW is alive in confusing and delightful ways and we are left to parse whether overbooking and extracurriculars are offset by having actually very good wrestling happening at the same time.

- Lessons learned from Revolution on the production side? Maybe just cool it on pyro, though the rappelling adventure in the Stadium Stampede showed some of that now-characteristic 'trust us it'll look better on TV' flair. Hot crowd tends to paper over most woes, and the crowd was pretty hot. My one gripe is that the casino theme is hanging around like yesterday's takeout containers. Nothing wrong with clinging to a theme, I just think it's time for season 2. My suggestion? Under the Sea.

*Pre-Card Serena Deeb (C) v Riho for the NWA Women's Championship (***1/2) - Serena Deeb's star has finally risen. She's a remarkably consistent technician and she can get a match out of anyone at this point. She's working at the level of Mercedes Martinez or Madison Eagles at this point, it's amazing that she was overlooked or considered fit only to be a coach for so long. With the NWA belt she has this new swagger, she's basically everything Tessa Blanchard might bring to the table with none of the downsides (Serena has a lot of friends and seems like a lovely person, even!) - Riho's back and here to stay. Her time in Stardom didn't do much for my evaluation of her, which is that there are many better wrestlers that would be better representatives of the joshi style and she's merely pretty good. - The match was very good. Serena showcased a champion's aggression against a sympathetic Riho, they really work well against each other, Deeb's technical prowess against Riho's flexibility led to a very dynamic finish.

*Main Card Hangman Adam Page v Brian Cage (***1/2) - Here the shenanigans start. Brian Cage is on Team Taz, Team Taz has nothing else much to do tonight, so why wouldn't Team Taz flex their muscles, bait us with HOOK, etc? (Because it would be nice to have some variety in the card in terms of a match where one competitor stands across from another competitor?) - Hangman is (checking notes) yeah, still over as fuck, as befits the Anxious Millennial Cowboy. Cage terrifies me, he's a child's drawing of a body builder. He do be very agile for a man of his immense musculature tho. They match up well, Page is biggish for a flyer, Cage loves to play catch. Nothing much to write home about, other than Hangman's beautiful moonsault to the floor and what was overall a very good curtain jerker. - Okay fine, I am curious about Cage's reluctance to lean on the goons, Starks can't come back soon enough.

The Young Bucks v Jon Moxley & Eddie Kingston (***) - I will not be referring to Mox & Eddie as (The) Wild Things because it gives me 'he calls it the wacky line' flashbacks for some reason. - The Bucks have to cheat and abuse Rick Knox's attention span constantly to be on even footing with Mox & Eddie, which is a clever sort of thing that gets washed out by the appearance of LG and Karl Anderson, which again, is cool in a vacuum but was the story of the evening. - Pace was weird - repetitive in eliminating Eddie, then Mox fights back, failed hope spot, Bucks team up, Eddie saves x2/3 in a row. - Mox, unlike Cody (in so many ways,) will probably actually be taking some time off with Renee, which is the kind of thing I would prefer not to know in terms of booking, but they really uh, put him down on the canvas here, and it felt pretty finale-esque.

Casino Battle Royale (n/r, but on the balance pro) - Any changes to the theme of the PPV would likely include changing up the nonsense suit format of these largely joyless slogs. - Obviously anticipating a NJPW talent, or... I dunno, actually -- Lio Rush was a surprise. Got in a quick demonstration of his otherworldly quickness, and you know what, there's probably a fun place for him in AEW. He'll need some friends, of course, feel like Team Taz might fit his temperament. I wonder if he was aware of the Mark Henry news... - Christian does not need to win this kind of match to get a title shot, obviously, but that said it was super lovely to use him to give Jungle Boy the shine. Jungle Boy would be a license to print money if he was even as big as Hangman. - Could register some continued griping about how Penta is not getting his due in AEW but he also literally was dressed as the Joker so I'm low on sympathy on this one particular night.

Anthony Ogogo v Cody Rhodes (*) - I did not like this. It's hard for me to read jingoism as a face move to begin with, and Cody's was egregiously tone deaf and kinda silly yet delivered without a trace of irony because Cody doesn't do irony on purpose, ridiculous neck tattoo aside. - Great argument to be made that Ogogo just isn't experienced enough to be winning matches against Cody. But like, what are we doing here? Cody needs to take some time off, maybe. I thought that's what was happening when he had his mini feud with Penta that really just ended in quick decisive Cody win. I though maybe Cody was being turned when QT and The Factory snapped-- sure, they're a group of impotent player 2s, but Cody is an out of touch elitist with a callous and manipulative streak. Alas, also no. America #1. - Cody is approximately 8 times as tough as Billy Gunn based on his weathering of the one punch man. Match ran a bit long given how little there was to go on. Cody gigged? Quelle surprise. - Cody had the best match on the card like, 3 out of the first 4 AEW events or something, and that was all booking and storytelling. I do hope Cody follows Moxley's lead into a little sabbatical.

Miro (C) v Lance Archer for the TNT Championship (**1/2) - Card's hossiest hoss match, a quick burst reminiscent of a car wreck. Absolutely hit on what it should've hit on but a little slow moving considering it went all of 10 minutes. - I will not complain about Jake the Snake, who I love. And also the gimmick spot, with Miro very astutely yeeting what was definitely a snake in a bag (surely.) back down the tunnel.

Dr Britt Baker, DMD v Hikaru Shida (C) for the AEW Women's Championship (***) - Picked up a lot of steam toward the end but seemed a little toothless (heh) until the last five. - Shida 'deserved' some more time as champion in front of crowds but also it's time to let heel Britt reach her peak, I can't even imagine how obnoxious she can be as the champ, it's going to be great.

Sting & Darby Allin v Ethan Page & Scorpio Sky (***1/2) - Such is the power of STING that I feel like I might be underrating this match... I mean it was an okay match about very simply getting some revenge and the sixty year old man did a very subdued Code Red and a slightly less subdued dive. He's also Sting. They missed an opportunity in calling it the 'Scorpio' Death Drop, but the main takeaway here is you see something like this where it's The Icon and you start to understand why WWE trots out their legends to come out of incredibly still kick ass without bending their knees. - The difference, I guess, is that Sting is absolutely being used to build up Darby Allin, whereas it's not like the fed brought back Goldberg and his attendant aura to pump up... anyone but Goldberg?

Kenny Omega (C) v PAC v Orange Cassidy for the AEW World Championship (****) - Off the top I have to say I'm very sad that the rest of the Galaxy's Greatest Friends were seen only very briefly, nice of them to bring OC's backpack. - Also have to point out that PAC's promo featured one of my favourite jokes, that Kenny must be short for Kenneth as a sort of legal/birth name belonging to a professional wrestler. (See also: Samoa Joseph) - And Mr Cassidy certainly did try in this match, ragdoll sells and all. Kenneth and PAC are absurd talents who bring aerial, power and technical maneuvers in equal measure and OC is not doing any of those on the same level, but he picked his spots, showed his genre savvy and hung in there to the point that he wasn't just the fall guy. - The extracurriculars continue in a match that was already a little overboard for silliness due to asymmetry... I think if you're the Invisible Hand it would've made sense to save up all your tricks for this match, but who am I to question the golden goose? - Sure, Kenny and Don ran the classic heel manager interference spot and taking out the ref in desperation spot but having to take out the ref because PAC wouldn't break the hold is fun, as is the stupid/inspired sense in running the 'smash opponent with the belt' spot four times so as none of your heavy gold prizes feel left out. (I love that AAA Mega Championship, they weren't on TV so we get to see it?) - "Fuck You, Don," indeed.

The Inner Circle v The Pinnacle in 'Stadium Stampede II' (***1/2) - This one had to grow on me for two reasons, first that it's usually pretty unforgivable to co-opt the main event spot from the championship match, and second to law of diminishing returns on dumb gimmick matches. - But grow it did. There's a full on meat locker? Commentary will refer to a cardboard cut-out of Shahid Khan as Tony Khan's father (that's canon now,) and Jericho will lovingly pat it? Konnan happened to be the DJ at whatever night club there is a Jaguar Stadium? Spears surrounds himself dramatically with chairs and his hoisted by his own petard? - Ultimately it comes down to letting Sammy shine. His involvement with the Inner Circle has sometimes come at the cost of being able to showcase that prior to AEW he was an ascendant talent in PWG, on his way to Ricochet level feats of acrobatic excess. Still feel like Sammy could've/should've been the one tossed off the cage a few weeks ago, but even better is being the guy getting the pin in the ring.

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peach-the-owl · 4 years ago

Note

The child reader x mighty nein is really wholesome! This is a first time we got a child reader for Mighty Nein! I'm not sure if you okay with request, but think you can do a birthday surprise with mighty Nein? As in a whole group together to throw a surprise party for child reader?

Omg my first request! Thank you so so much for liking my Child of the Nein stuff, I feel this world needs some more wholesomeness in it. Please do feel free to suggest things I may not get to write everything right away but I’ll do my best. I hope this is what you’re looking for 😁

(Also kleiner means little one, if I translated properly and (f/f) is favourite flavour)

Birthday Surprise

Mighty Nein & Child!Reader

Being on the road with a bunch of adventurers usually meant things went by pretty fast and sometimes important days were forgotten… or so you thought. You where in Xhorhas for a few days on one of those rare break times from adventures, and you where happily playing a game of tag with Jester and Nott. You dash towards the kitchen to get away but before you could Caleb steps through the door blocking your path.

"Kleiner, what are you doing?"

"I’m playing tag, and Jester's it so I gotta go before she catches me." You say, trying to wedge around him, he still doesn’t move. You look up and pout at him, hoping you can sway him to let you through.

"You can continue your game, but not in the kitchen, you might break something." You knew he was right you just didn’t like how firmly he spoke. With a sigh you turn to find another area to keep away from she who is it only to see Nott run up to you and tap your shoulder before darting off yelling that you’re now it. You yell your payback as you chase after her.

Today was fun, but you’d noticed that everyone was a bit off, you couldn’t place why but they just seemed off. They wouldn’t let you into the kitchen or the rooftop garden either, it was weird and when you’d ask they just give you some half-baked excuse before someone else would come and distract you with a different activity. But you were getting impatient feeling like you were stuck inside all day, or night it's always hard to tell here, either way after your rigorous day(?) of activities Jester suggested you go shopping with her. It was nice going out and to your surprise Fjord decided to tag along too, he said it was to keep an eye out so Jester didn’t buy everything in sight, seemed believable enough to you. Your little trip went well Jester asking for your opinion on different objects whether it was little trinkets, bobbles, clothes and even a few magical items. When you’d give your opinion on if you liked it or not she’d place it back where she found it and would drag you along to the next item, you figured this was because of Fjords rule, speaking of Fjord you seemed to have lost track of him.

"Hey Jester, where'd Fjord go?"

"Fjord's a big boy, he can take care of himself." Jester states, waving off your concerns.

"But how will he know when we have to go back?" You looked to the sky and was once again reminded there was no way for you to tell time in this city of endless night. Looking back to Jester, it appeared as though she was looking off into space, when her focus came back she gives a little giggle. You tilt your head in confusion.

"Don’t worry, I’ll just use Sending to get a message to Fjord." She gives you a devious smile, you can only imagine what crazy things she’ll add with her short word limit. She casts the spell and you walk a little away from her, covering your ears to avoid anything dirty she might say. When she’s done she scoops you up into her arms, both shocking you and enlisting a fit of giggles before placing you back onto the ground and the two of you walk back to the Xhorhaus.

When you step inside everything is quiet, no chatter from the Nein, no clattering of pots and pans in the kitchen. You look around confused and are about to ask Jester where everyone was but find that she too has disappeared, and wonder how she did so as fast and sneakily as she did. You wander around a little but still find no one so you decide to try the rooftop garden, when heading up you swear you hear someone scuffle away from the door, and with one swift motion you push it open…

"SURPRISE!!!!" You’re immediately greeted to a beautifully decorated garden and the sweet smell of cake and other goodies, everyone looking at you expectantly, you even noticed Essek was amongst the group. You take a second to stare trying to piece together what was going on, then you notice the homemade banner saying 'Happy Birthday (y/n)' and everything fell into place.

"You did this for me?" If it were possible your jaw would’ve dropped to the floor. Having forgotten to get up out of the doorway Yasha strolls over and picks you up, giving you a rare and sweet smile.

"Well duh, you only bothered us about it for the past week." Beau pipes up only to be elbowed by Molly who quickly interjects.

"What Beau means to say is, yes of course we did. I handled the lovely decor." He gives a proud smile.

"We handled the decorations." Beau corrects, earning a shrug from the flamboyant tiefling.

"I made you a cake, if I remember you said (f/f) was your favourite kind." Caduceus steps in holding a delicious looking (f/f) cake. "Sorry we had to keep you away, we didn’t want to ruin the surprise." You couldn’t find words for this so you settle for just shaking your head and give him a smile as a way of saying it was ok. Caduceus goes to set down the cake and your attention is directed to a small pile of both well and poorly wrapped presents. A feeling of excitement washes over you as you point to them and practically jump on the balls of your feet in a silent question.

"I think the child would like to open thier gifts first." Essek states rather blankly, he may not be the best with these types of things but at least he’s trying. Caleb hands you the first gift and the moment you open it you recongnize the object as one you specifically liked from your shopping spree, you look towards Jester and Fjord.

"I was a pretty good actress wasn’t I." Jester smiles with her hands triumphantly on her hips.

"We had all decided to pitch in some gold for a few gifts, but of course Jester went a little overboard in the options so we slimmed it down a little." Fjord explains. Your smile just gets bigger and you give everyone a hug, after opening the rest of your gifts of course.

Finally it was cake time, Caleb using his magic to light the candles and Nott getting swatted away for being a little too eager to get her hands on a slice. Jester starts to sing happy birthday with Molly and Nott joining in, purposely singing off key but you loved it all the same. This was hands down the best birthday you’ve ever experienced and you got to share it with your crazy but loveable found family. With the festivities coming to a close and a cake that still needed its candles blown out there was only one thing left for them to say.

"Make a wish (y/n)."

Did I over do this a little? Maybe. Did I stay up into the wee hours of the morning to finish it? Yes. Do I regret it? Nope.

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lemonpeter · 4 years ago

Text

Day 18 - Pegging (Pepper/Peter)

This one was so fun and I totally went overboard lol (2.3K words). Dedicated to @tightaroundthewebshooter for giving me this kink/couple combination, I hope you enjoy 💜

Warnings: pegging, Tony/Peter/Pepper established relationship, femdom, Peter’s age isn’t mentioned

————

“I know you’re missing Tony,” Pepper murmured, stroking a gentle hand over Peter’s hair. The soft whine that left the younger man told her that she was right.

She chuckled softly, cuddled close to his side. “I know. I miss him too. And I’d say we could call him, but he’s sleeping right now because of the time difference and you and I both know he needs his sleep.”

“I know,” Peter mumbled, face pressed to his pillow. “But he’s been gone so long....”

“You miss getting fucked, don’t you?” She whispered in his ear, sliding one hand over his back.

He shivered at the sudden question, turning onto his side to look at her. Biting his lip, he nodded shyly. “I love being on top, don’t get me wrong. I love sex with you,” he told her, trying to make sure he wouldn’t upset her.

But she just chuckled as she listened, nodding. “I know. You’re a bad liar, I would have already known if you didn’t like it. But keep going.”

Peter looked mildly offended at the statement that he was a bad liar, but he knew it was true. There wasn’t really a point in actually being offended. “I love sex with you. But I do miss being on the bottom with Tony,” he admitted, glancing away.

“I know.” She smiled, slowly sitting up. “And Tony know’s that he’s been away too long. So...” she slowly moved off of the bed, grabbed a rectangular box from underneath the bed.

Then she sat back down, holding the box in her lap.

Peter looked at her curiously, sitting up. “What’s that?” He couldn’t hide his curiosity. And if Pepper and Tony had a plan together, it had to be interesting.

Pepper smiled, lips curved up delicately.

And Peter instantly knew he was in for something good. That look always came when she knew he would love something.

Although it also made him a bit nervous, as the last time that look was directed at him Tony had taken him to a restaurant with a full set of lingerie underneath his suit. A little risk, a lot of fun.

And Pepper had said something and he missed it while he was thinking. Nice.

“What?”

She chuckled. “You looked a little spaced out, what were you thinking about?”

“The last time you looked at me like that.” He laughed softly.

Pepper nodded, laughing softly. “Ah. Makes sense. But this won’t be quite like that. Nothing public.”

Peter relaxed a bit, smiling at her. “Okay. Well, that’s good to know. I like the public stuff, but it does tend to make me a little nervous.”

“I know, sweetheart. So, do you want to know or not?”

“Of course I do!” He laughed, squirming a bit where he was sitting on the bed.

The lid of the box was removed and he was completely confused for a moment as he looked inside.

An incredibly realistic dildo laid in a bundle of red tissue paper.

He looked at her, eyebrow raised. They had plenty of toys. He didn’t understand why they needed another one.

“Do you recognize it?” Pepper asked, smirking slightly.

Peter didn’t understand the teasing tone laced through her words. It just seemed like a normal toy. He picked it up, sliding two fingers from the base to the head. He noted the slight left curve to it and then he got it. “Oh. It’s Tony.” He laughed softly.

“He’s gonna be offended you didn’t figure it out instantly,” Pepper commented. But it was all just teasing, she herself had teased Tony that Peter wouldn’t see it at first.

Peter blushed, frowning. “Don’t tell him,” he said quickly. “Please. I don’t want him to be upset.”

“Peter, honey, it’s okay. He’s not going to be mad that you didn’t know his dick shape immediately. I promise it’s okay.” She chuckled.

“Okay...if you say so....” he was still holding the toy, looking over it. “But....don’t we already have one that’s like him? The red and gold one?”

Tony couldn’t resist adding his colors when they had talked about it.

“We do,” Pepper confirmed.

“So what’s so special about this one?”

Pepper unwrapped the tissue paper in the box, revealing a red harness.

Peter’s lips parted as he finally understood, pupils visibly getting wide. “Oh.”

“Since he isn’t here to do it himself, he’s trusting me to give you what you need.” Pepper shook her head, laughing. “Because apparently he doesn’t really trust you to be satisfied with anyone else’s cock. He’s a bit self centered that way,” she joked.

“Well, it’s perfect. And...” Peter squirmed a little, quickly pulling off the shirt that he had been planning on sleeping in. “Can we do that? Like, now?”

He paused. Maybe she hadn’t meant for them to do anything in the moment. And she just wanted to show him.

But then she started removing her own top and he was sure that she wanted this to happen.

“Get yourself undressed and grab the lube, okay? I’m gonna figure out how to get this thing on.”

Maybe it wasn’t supposed to be complicated, but all the straps seemed a bit difficult to figure out. But Pepper knew she could do it. Even if she needed a bit of help from her boy.

———

It didn’t take long for them both to undress and get ready.

Peter started prepping himself, fingers circling his loosening hole as he watched Pepper attaching the dildo to the harness.

His mouth was nearly watering as he watched, waiting. He was just teasing himself at that point, already loose and wet and ready for the toy. But the pressure of the pads of his fingers against his sensitive hole gave him a better feeling as he waited. Worked him up more. Not that he really needed the help.

Just watching his partner getting the strap-on on and comfortble already had him hard and leaking. It wasn’t hard for him to get really worked up.

But she looked incredible.

Stripped down to her pale cream lingerie, she looked soft and sexy. But the straps of the harness in a deep red contrasted beautifully against everything. Then there was the dildo.

And Peter was sure that his brain short circuited.

It nearly looked real, of course Tony wouldn’t have gotten a cheap toy. But it was so realistic that he drooled, fantasizing about Pepper’s cock stretching him open. Which it would soon enough.

“Woah,” he breathed. “Pepper...please...”

“Acting all cock-stupid already and it’s not even inside you,” she teased. She stepped closer to the bed, chuckling at how the dildo swayed with her movement. “Oh- god. How do you handle this all the time? It’s so weird.” She laughed, shaking her head as she kneeled onto the bed.

“Because when it’s part of you, you just don’t think about it?” Peter offered, grinning as he watched her. He could agree that it looked a little silly, the way it moved and all. But he was more turned on than anything, so he was mostly focused on that.

Pepper slowly moved between his legs, leaning in to kiss him softly. She slid a gentle hand over his stomach and grinned against his lips as she felt his muscles flex and tense under the touch. “Sensitive,” she murmured fondly.

He whimpered, kissing her again. “Please. Don’t want to wait. I’m ready. Please fuck me.”

“Whiny too.”

“I am, thank you. Now? Please, I am begging you to fill me with that. Please, Pep.” He pouted, bottom lip poking out slightly as he looked at her.

“I won’t tease you and make you wait any longer, don’t worry.”

It only took her a moment to grab the lube he had been using before. She slicked up her ‘cock’, coating it generously to assure that he wouldn’t get hurt.

She sat back on her heels, grabbing his legs and doing her best to move him to wrap them around her. “There.” She grinned. Then she started moving, adjusting her position to press the tip of the toy against his eager hole.

He bit his lip when he felt it, eyes slipping shut. “Please,” he breathed. His heart was beating quickly in anticipation, just waiting for the initial stretch that he knew was coming.

Pepper smiled, one hand on the bed with the other gently stroking his cheek. She slowly thrust her hips forward, groaning as she noticed how little resistance there was. He really had prepared himself for her.

Peter moaned softly at the slide, clenching around the toy at the first thrust she gave. “Oh...yeah, that’s good. So good,” he murmured, trying not to start babbling instantly.

The woman smiled, kissing him quickly as she pushed in more.

The motion pulled a low groan from Peter, who let her push in until the balls of the toy were pressed flush with his ass.

He panted, squeezing down as he felt every inch filling him. It was incredible, seeming to reach every perfect spot inside.

“Are you okay if I start moving?” Pepper questioned, carefully watching his expressions. Though he seemed completely okay with everything, she still needed to be sure to check.

He nodded quickly, sliding his hand over his stomach and giggling when he felt the bulge that the faux cock left. Just like Tony. “Yes. Please move, please fuck me.”

Of course she had to when he asked so nicely.

Her thrusts started out gentle, wanting to ease him into the movement. He responded accordingly, his own hips pressing back to meet the base as she thrusted. Every few seconds he would clench down and Pepper desperately wished that she could feel it.

Watching his hole flutter and eagerly swallow the toy was delicious, but she wanted to be able to feel when it happened.

She would just have to get her fingers in him afterwards in order to experience something close to it.

But for now she moved, gradually speeding up as he easily took everything that she gave him.

Peter made a punched out sound and his stomach contracted in a way that looked painful after a moment, though, and she paused.

“Are you okay? What happened?”

“Th-the spot. You got it,” he breathed, cock twitching where it was pressed between them.

Ah. His prostate. Of course the special bundle would cause him to have a different reaction.

She chuckled. “Sorry, baby. Didn’t mean to take you by surprise like that.”

“No, no, it’s okay!” He assured her quickly, voice pitched higher than normal. “Please do it again. It’s good. So good.”

“Alright. If you say so.” She smirked, adjusting her hips to keep at that angle, beginning to mercilessly thrust against his prostate.

He moaned loudly, cock dribbling precum against his stomach as she moved. He did his best to press back like he had been doing, but his body felt heavy with the pleasure and hard to move.

“Don’t worry about moving, sweetheart,” Pepper told him gently. “It’s alright. Let me do all the work. You deserve this.”

Peter nodded weakly, head lolling back against his pillow as he just took everything that she gave him.

It didn’t take long in that position for him to begin getting close to his end, balls tightening and drawing close to his body as he felt the heat building.

“P-pep-“ he gasped out, legs tightening around her. His cock drooled, spurting out more pre as it twitched violently against his abs.

“Cmon, Peter. I know you’re getting close. You can cum at any time, you don’t need to hold back,” she told him, panting as she kept going.

Admittedly, it wouldn’t take her long to get to her end herself. The toy rubbed deliciously against her clit as she thrusted, and watching his reactions and hearing him was certainly helping her along.

He whined loudly, hips thrusting up weakly with her actions. “‘M gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, Pepper,” he babbled, clenching hard around the toy as it brushed his prostate with every thrust.

“Cum for me, honey, it’s okay. Cum, Peter.”

He cried out, vision whiting out around the edges as he came finally. His cock bobbed in the air for a moment before spurting cum up his chest and stomach, leaving thick white streaks over his skin.

She groaned as she watched, stilling with her thrusts because she didn’t want to make him sensitive. But she snuck two fingers underneath the strap and quickly rubbed at her clit, desperate for her own release.

“Cum, Pep,” Peter breathed weakly, chest heaving as he watched her. “Please, need to see-“

She moaned, biting down on her lip as she finished. Her fingers kept scrubbing at the nub, hips bucking weakly as she rode it out.

The added stimulation made Peter moan again and squirm from oversensitivity. But he didn’t make her stop, wanting her to have her orgasm too. The last thing he wanted to do was ruin it for her.

She slowly came down from her high, still twitching occasionally. “Shit,” she mumbled, a smile tugging at her lips. “That...yeah. Okay.” She laughed softly. “Yeah. That was amazing. I’m keeping this thing.”

Peter laughed, the sound cut off by a weak groan as she pulled out slowly. “Yeah...that was amazing. Just what I needed. Thank you so so so much,” he murmured, turning on his side and curling up.

He ignored the fact that he was still sticky and covered in his own cum. He could deal with it later. First, a nap.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” she said softly. “I’m gonna go clean up, I’m all sticky and wet.” She grinned. “But-“

A soft snore came from him and she rolled her eyes, shaking her head fondly. He was already asleep. Of course he was.

“I love you, Peter. I’ll be back in just a moment.”

#bri speaks #peter parker #tony stark #pepper potts x peter parker #pepper potts #Peter x pepper #mentioned Peter x pepper x tony #established relationship #nff #my writing #woowhee this is a big one lol #bri does kinktober #kinktober with bri #kinktober 2020

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yummyinmytwistedtummy · 4 years ago

Note

floyd leech (in merman form) eating a mermaid. lots of teasing, tummy play, licking lips

This was my first same size vore fic and um.... I went overboard. It’s so long but I think it’s really good. I made up the mermaid and her tiger shark attacker but I left hints of a gender neutral MC in there as well cause I can’t not add “Shrimpy-chan~” giving Floyd tummy rubs. Also please tell me what you think cause I’m new to this. Thank you! (also I can’t name anything so please excuse the ridiculous title).

Contains: same size vore, non fatal vore, safe vore, non consensual vore (but it’s chill cause he’s just trying to protect her), burp kink, belly kink

Slimy Save

The ocean was peaceful and calm. No fish swam by and not a single other living creature was around. It was boring. Floyd took a moment to pout at the sea's uneventfulness before deciding to turn around and head back home. His long snake-like tail twirled to help him change directions. He almost took off at speeds that no normal merman could achieve when he spotted something extra shiny on the ocean floor. Was it a trinket from the human world? Maybe Azul could help him sell it to the foolish merman who thought it was treasure. The dumb fishies would gasp in surprise and practically hold an auction for it depending on how rare it was considered under the waves. Floyd snickered at the thought of toying with the small fishtails before diving down to retrieve whatever the object in question was.

He came to a disappointed halt however when he realised it wasn’t an object from the surface at all. It was simply one of the fishtails scales. He hadn’t known that fishtails lived around these parts but it wasn’t unusual to find a shed scale or two where one had been. Floyd frowned that it wasn’t something precious and felt slightly annoyed that fishtails just left their scales wherever they went. He never shed and if he did it would be troublesome but he would pick up after himself. Though he supposed that could be hard if the fishtails weren’t aware they were shedding. His tail was long and smooth and never shed. It was durable, functional and fast and it didn’t leave a scale trail. Unfortunately his tail wasn’t very shiny or as attractive as the fishtails usually were. He thought about how dull his tail was very often since a merman's tail was what usually found them a mate. With the tail of a slimy eel it would be very hard to find a mate since other eel merman were rare and eel women generally went after other species with more flashy looks out of instinct. The eel merman/mermaid population was thinning because of this which was unfortunate since any eel man would love to have an eel woman and reproduce many times.

A loud cry broke Floyd from his thoughts. He shook his head and made to swim away back to his home reef. The cry came again and he realised it was a female. As a part of merman culture nearly everyone was raised to treat women with respect and kindness. They are very important because of the part they can play in regrowing the limited population of fishmen. Too many humans didn’t understand what they were in the time of the sea witch and many fishtails were killed. It could have been very easy to turn around and pretend like he hadn’t heard anything but fortunately for the damsel in distress Floyd was feeling generous today.

The source of the sound wasn’t far Floyd found. A mermaid had been the one to call out in fear. She had a short body and tail, but her hair was long and a pale orange color. Her skin was heavily tanned and gold scale spots decorated her face and shoulders, (the underwater equivalent of freckles). Her tail was a shimmering coral which flashed as it reflected the sunlight. She was truly beautiful as most mermaids are but Floyd had to admit that she would look prettier if she was smiling instead of having a panicked look on her face. And panicked she was, rightfully so considering her situation. Thick ropes of giant kelp wrapped around her tail and twisted around her arms. It tangled with her hair and left her thrashing in order to get it undone. A male mershark circled casually around her from slightly above. His gaze was dark with hunger and his toothy smile was chilling to all who could be considered prey.

In school, Floyd recalled, children were taught that all merfolk should generally respect one another since there was no need to be violent in peaceful times. They were also taught, however, that there were no laws preventing different species from attacking and killing one another, or even eating them. When Floyd had explained this to his shrimpy-chan they had stared at him in disgust and called it cannibalism. It would never make sense to a land dweller but under the water where many call home a mershark eating a fishtail is the equivalent of a shark eating a fish. Now it wasn’t like fishtails were the only source of nutrients a mershark could get since most merfolk ate what their respective sea animal origins ate but it also wasn’t frowned upon to eat each other. If the shark wanted to eat the mermaid he had a right. Floyd had no business stepping in since technically no one was in the wrong. Yes it was shameful for certain merfolk to go after someone weakend in defence or restrained as is now, but that was simply the shark way.

The eel merman made to turn around when he decided this was the excitement he had been looking for this afternoon. Floyd shot forward through the water and grabbed the mermaid before the mershark could get any closer to her. The kelp tightened around the fishtail before snapping in half as if the eel man had pulled her from spaghetti. The intense speed that Floyd swam surprised the girl almost as much as her sudden rescue. Confused the mershark hesitated before taking off in the same direction intent on getting back his meal.

Sights whizzed past in a blur as Floyd carried the mermaid to some place where they would be safe. A small grotto came into view and the teenager banked a hard turn and zipped in through the hole in the wall. He held a hand up against the mermaid's mouth to keep her quiet as he checked outside. No shark was faster than a slippery eel but he would eventually catch up and find them. That would be an issue.

Floyd let the mermaid go and held a finger to his lips before snickering, “you fishtails need to watch where you’re going. It’s a good thing I was there since that tiger shark was gonna eat you for lunch.” As if on cue when he said lunch his stomach let out a low growl signaling that it was time for food. *BWoOOorgLE* Floyd looked down at his belly and shushed it. “Hush tummy this isn’t the time to snack, besides there’s no-” He paused and shifted his gaze to the mermaid in front of him. She watched him with fearful eyes as he drifted closer to her. She flinched when he reached an arm out and pulled on the kelp still stuck to her body. “Let me help you,” he said in a toneless voice that sent chills down the mergirl’s spine.

She let him unravel the kelp, but stayed wary of his movements as he circled her again and again to undo the sea vines. Tense the mermaid let him pull the last of it from her and sighed when she was finally free from it’s lifelike grasp. Floyd smiled eerily behind her and his eyes widened with excitement. The little fishtail had relaxed too soon. Quick as an eel (haha I crack myself up), he wrapped a large webbed hand around her mouth and another around her torso in order to hold her in place. She began to squirm again but the eel man's grip was much stronger than the kelp. How could she possibly escape him when she couldn’t even break out of the sea forest. He snickered at the absurdity of it. Merfolk have gills so it was impossible to squeeze the breath out of them meaning that Floyd would have to swallow this fishy while it was still kicking. He grinned at the thought of feeling her squirm the whole way down and then continue to move once she was in his gut.

She attempted to elbow him but was stopped when he squeezed her tighter. “Hush little mermaid, don’t say a word. I’m gonna eat you and that’s for sure.~” Floyd sang to the tune of a lullaby he heard on land once. He couldn’t understand why the fishtail had to struggle so much though. It wasn’t like he wasn’t gonna let her out. That much fat would make it hard to swim. She just needed to sit in his tummy for a while until the shark guy was gone. He contemplated telling her that but decided that it would be more fun if she struggled on the way down.

“On the way down make sure to squirm. Slick as a seal and smooth as a worm.~” Floyd finished his small tune and ran his tongue along his lips. Fishies always taste good but this one just smelled so sweet he knew it was something he had to savor. “You look so tasty, little fishy. Do you think you’ll be sweet or sour? Hmm… oh I know I’ll just tell you.” The mermaid froze up as she felt a long tongue slide along her cheek. It took it’s time to coat the skin in sticky saliva as best it could underwater. Then it flicked back into his mouth and the eel hummed thoughtfully.

“You don’t taste bad. You’re kinda too sweet though, like someone accidentally poured too much niceness into you. I personally like a sweet fish that has a sour hint and flavorful aftertaste, but I suppose I can’t expect that from you. Only my Shrimpy-chan back home can taste like that.” He took a moment to think about the kind of face his Shrimpy-chan would make if he told them how they tasted. It was unfortunate that they wouldn’t be here to rub his tummy when he was done eating, they would have made the cutest noises and blushed to their toes. Floyd shook his thoughts from his mind and sniffed. The tiger shark was getting close, if he was going to eat the mermaid now was the time. He giggled one more time before twisting the mermaid around and opened his jaw as wide as he could.

Two rows of sharp teeth and a distinct smell of festering fish was the first thing that the mermaid noticed. The distance between the eels two jaws however quickly became her main focus as they stretched farther apart than she had ever seen any creature do. An unusually long, thick tongue flicked excitedly and his gut gurgled in joy as if it knew what was coming. If you could drool underwater Floyd would be doing it. As soon as there was enough space for the mermaid to fit he hoisted her up and into his mouth.

She tried to scream but no sounds came as she was pushed into the slimy cavern that reeked of yesterday's meal. Slowly she was moved further and further into his mouth. Floyd stamped down a squeal as her head reached the back of his mouth. Just one more push and a swallow and she would be on her way down to his stomach. He pushed hard and swallowed thickly and felt her head pop into his throat.

*GRRUUULRK*

The eel mermans neck bulged grotesquely as the mermaid slid, head first, into his gut. Floyd swallowed again and her head moved into his chest. Her upper body was almost completely inside of him. On the outside, however, her tail whipped around frantically, trying to find any means of escape. As it got closer to him the mermaid's tail flipped back towards his face and the tail fin sliced his cheek. He paused for a moment before growling and using one hand to grip the mermaid tail tightly while he used the other to grab the wall for support. *GUURK* *GLUUCK*.

In two easy swallows he pulled most of her inside of him. After the second one he felt his stomach swell as her head was the first part of her to reach the final destination. Now that she wasn’t squirming as much Floyd took this opportunity to lap at her scales with his tongue. She tasted well enough as he had said before but the feeling of smooth fish scales on his tongue reminded him of his unsatisfied hunger and inspired him to finish up his meal. Grunting he pushed the last of her tail into his mouth and snapped his jaws shut. He brought one hand up to push at his neck to help her go down. If he wanted to he could have easily sent her down using the muscles in his throat that rippled every time he swallowed. But that would have hurt her and he wanted to let her back out in one piece so he opted against it and took the hard way.

*GUUURLLP*

One last swallow and the rest of her slipped into his stomach. She thrashed and screamed as best she could without accidentally getting digested fish slime in her mouth. The whole thing stank like no one could ever imagine and if she took a breath that was too deep she would start coughing. It was the type of smell that you couldn’t escape, the kind where you could taste it, it was so strong. She whimpered and pushed at the slimy walls to try and upset the eel man's stomach. The lining of her current location was smooth and slick. It pulsed in beat with the drum that she heard above her. She assumed it was his heart. A thick sludge sat in the bottom of the dark pit and the mermaid was thankful that she could not see because she feared what it would be that he had eaten before her.

When the mermaid finally landed in his stomach, tail and all, Floyd let out a loud moan and shuddered with pleasure. It had been so long since he had been this full. It felt amazing. His tongue hung from the side of his mouth as he panted trying to catch his breath. With so much extra weight the eel man sank to the ground and leaned back against the stone wall. He looked down with lidded eyes and saw that his stomach had swelled out a good 3 feet in diameter. He knew it could stretch more though so he wasn’t particularly worried about the fist shaped dents that appeared repeatedly on his large gut. In fact all the wiggling and struggling that the mermaid did felt like a deep massage for his inner organs. He sighed again and waited for the merwoman to calm down. A particularly strong punch in his gut dislodged a pocket of air that must have been lingering from his time on land.

-----

The mershark was not in a good mood. He had found the perfect meal and then suddenly some random eel merman had snatched her and took off. He was in every right to eat her and he was going to eat her, no hero playing amature was gonna stop that. If only his shark senses were sharper. The tiger shark sniffed again and growled still the same old scent. They were close but he couldn’t pinpoint exactly where they were hiding.

“BWWWWWWWWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRLP!!!!”

A ridiculously loud sound alerted the mershark to a small hole in a wall where he realized was the area that the mermaid and eel man were hiding. As he got closer he could hear the eel man talking to the fishtail. “Oh excuse me. That was a good one, must have been the soda and mentos experiment Shrimpy-chan and I did before I left. Didn’t realize there was still air in there. Shrimpy-chan needs air when they're inside me but a mermaid doesn’t.”

The tiger shark paused. What in the seven seas could ‘inside of me�� mean? He shook it off and continued forwards to the entrance way. He swam through in time for Floyd's next loud eructation.

“HHHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRRRRRRP!”

The eel man frowned and looked back down at his stomach. “Well that wasn’t big at all.” The mershark took in the eel and his eyes widened in shock. What once must have been a slim and fit torso now bulged out enormously. The giant gut wasn’t perfectly round either, it was lumpy in some areas and the shape faintly resembled… The mersharks blood froze in his veins and he listened closely. Sure enough behind the wall of flesh he could make out the mermaid's frantic screams. The tiger shark looked back up to the eel man's face and met his eyes. They were wide and the pupils were small giving his face an eerie look. Deciding that he didn’t want to find out what that look meant the mershark booked it, leaving Floyd alone with his fishtail snack.

“HIC-UUUARRP! Ahh- hah ngh! Stupid bubbles in my tummy won’t come out” The teen groaned, wrapping his arms around his distended middle section. “Hey fishy, could you move around a bit more to help me get that before you come out of there?” The mermaid paused her panic as best she could. “Y-you, you’re gonna let me out?” she spoke timidly. Floyd giggled, “course I can’t HIC- leave you in there. I wouldn’t be able to swim home. Then I could eat lots of other wriggly fish and make my tummy full again for Shrimpy-chan to enjoy.” The mermaid shivered with disgust, how could anyone enjoy this? Either way if he was gonna let her out then she might as well help him. The sooner this was over the sooner she could take a mud bath and rid herself of this sludge smell.

With all her might the mermaid flung herself around and pushed her tail against the fleshy walls as best she could. A loud gurgle came from all around her and she felt the eel man lean forwards when the pressure finally got tense enough to be released. Floyd placed a hand on his full stomach and pushed back as hard as he could, pressing the air out of him.

“BWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR-EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP!!!!!!!”

A burp of gigantic size and magnitude erupted from his lips. The force of it made the whole place shake and rock pieces fell from the walls. It lasted about 8 seconds and was tripled in volume and length due to the echo from the cave walls. The mermaid was jostled and shaken from her position inside his gut. When it finally came to a close and the sound stopped bouncing off the walls Floyd let his head fall back and he panted, trying to get his breath back. The disturbed fishtail didn’t move for several moments while the eel man gathered his bearings. When he did manage to catch his breath he laughed loudly as if the whole thing had been the most hilarious thing. His laughter cut off into an after burp which ended with a hiccup and a sigh.

“Wow fishy that was a great one. Shrimpy-chan will be sad they missed it. I feel so much better now~” He said cheerfully. “Speaking of Shrimpy-chan…” The eel man cut off and a thoughtful expression crossed his face. He wondered if Shrimpy-chan would like to be inside of him, giving him inner tummy rubs, and helping him force out belches. The only time he had eaten them was by accident when they got into the shrinking powder, thinking it was a spice. He hummed at the thought of them sitting full size curled in his stomach, comfortably filling him while also being given the opportunity to live out their fantasies. Floyd pinned that thought somewhere else in his mind and decided he would have to go back to it at a later date. He looked down at his still engorged gut and frowned.

Pushing his hands underneath, the eel man hoisted his gut up and attempted to sit up with it. He simply sank again however and dropped the mass of bloated organ back down into his lap. The mermaid made a noise of complaint and then it hit him. “Hey fishtail~ I’m so tired after protecting you from the sharky. If you do a good job rubbing my belly I’ll let you right out after I wake up, k?” The mermaid hesitated for a moment before resigning herself to her fate. She stroked the walls of his stomach as best as she could with the position she was in but it seemed to do the trick cause she heard the eel man yawn and his shifting stopped.

Floyd would have to figure out how to get the mermaid out of there at some point, but right now he could use a nap and the tummy rub from the woman inside him was nice too. Next time though, he decided, it would only be Shrimpy-chan allowed in his stomach, where he could squeeze them in only a way he could. “Shrimpy-chan…” he mumbled quietly before his eyes slipped closed and he fell asleep. He dreamed that his stomach was nice and round, filled with wriggly fish, and he was squeezing Shrimpy real close as they soothed his gut with tummy rubs and listened to it churn and gurgle lulling them into a soft sleep. “Goodnight, Koebi-chan…”

#twisted wonderland kink #floyd leech kink #bloated belly #belly kink #burp #burp kink #oral vore #same size vore #safe vore #non fatal vore #vore fic #shrimpy-chan gives belly rubs to floyd cause I say so

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