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lumosinlove · 3 years

Text

Vaincre

Part ii: August

For the hope of it all

The river was crowded, but the pier was their own.

Happy Birthday Harzy, was spelled out in big balloon letters, turning in the summer breeze, backwards and bumping.

Logan stood at the waterfront and looked at Leo’s—as it was mostly Leo’s—handiwork. Lobster rolls and soft-shell crab buffet, corn bread and iced tea. Chilled white and orange wines. Summer dresses fluttered and crossed each other as people talked, making new patterns, and Logan let himself settle into the laughter. He had a bad habit of taking peace and worrying it away. He didn’t want to do that today. He wanted to watch Finn enjoy himself, his team, his family. Logan had spent every one of Finn’s birthdays with their Harvard team, and then there had been that one, horribly absent year when Finn had been in Gryffindor and he hadn’t—not yet. He wanted to watch the way Leo put his long arms around his friends, in the same way his mother did, warm and strong. Logan wanted to watch without feeling that sharp tug of worry. He couldn’t have even said what he was worrying about. It was vague.

He’d done a lot of watching this summer. He loved it to the point of never wanting to do anything else. Finn and Leo were alike to each other in more ways than Logan would ever be. Whatever rapid-fire conversation they were in the middle of would often quickly leave Logan behind, but Logan didn’t care as long as he got them stumbling and laughing over each other to try and explain it to him—a book, a TV show, some sort of video game. He knew they liked telling him about it, and Logan loved watching them love things—including himself. Logan had never thought of himself as acting as a grounding point before. That had always been Finn or Leo. He always felt too wild in his own head, unsure, reserved. Vague. But Leo had said it to him this summer.

“When me and Finn lived together, we stayed up so late just talking,” Leo had said one early morning on the beach when they had left Finn sleeping. Logan wouldn’t be quick to forget the feeling of just being able to hold Leo’s hand for so long, in such an open space.

Leo had kissed the back of his palm too many times for Logan to think he’d be forgetting it, either.

“And you and I did the same thing, you know?” Leo continued. “On roadies.”

“Playing cards,” Logan smiled. “And our sundaes.”

Leo nodded, and his smile grew a little softer. He stared at his toes digging into the sand. “And I knew how connected you two were. Well, I guess not how connected, but I knew you two were better friends than anyone on the team, even Sirius and James. Even if you didn’t always act like it. I feel like good friends can do that, handle distance and snap back into place.”

“And?” Logan remembered asking playfully. “Which long talks were better?”

Leo just laughed. “No, no. Not better. Finn talking is like…wild. Like wind. Talking to you is stillness. I love both. The point is, that was…that was my connection. To both of you.” He had cleared his throat then, and given Logan’s hand a squeeze. “My mama always says if you can talk to someone forever then—“

“They’re yours forever,” Logan finished. “My maman says the same thing.”

Leo’s answering smile had been blinding.

An arm circled his waist, another pressing right over his heart.

“Nice party,” Finn said softly into his ear, and Logan only had a moment in that warmth before it was gone, wary of prying eyes. It made Logan miss France, and their brief stay at his mother’s family home that summer.

No one had known them there, and Leo had adored the markets, cooking elaborate meals while Finn and Logan had sat on the counter, watching him and loving him. They’d eaten out on the stone patio, overlooking the sea.

Finn looked a little like he had there, cheeks sun-hot. Logan wanted to reach for them, as he had then, cool them with his thumb. Finn smiled, making the sun-kissed skin crease a little.

“What?” he asked.

Logan shook his head. “Remember that picture?” he asked. “The one of us. It was on your wall at Harvard, you were standing behind me, hand on my chest.”

Finn’s mouth quirked, and he nodded. Logan hesitated for a moment, realizing that Finn was wearing his NASA t-shirt, the same one he had worn the day he’d left Harvard for good, leaving Logan behind. Logan stared at the logo, then looked away, back up to his brown eyes. Bambi, the boys at Harvard had called him.

He took a sip of his drink and shrugged. “I don’t know where it went. I know you packed it, took it with you, but I can’t find it. Do you know…”

Logan trailed off, as Finn had taken out his wallet. He set his beer on the pier ledge, flipped the worn leather open, and slipped out a folded piece of paper, thick, and well-loved. He held it out to Logan, biting his lip, and then leaned back against the railing, as if waiting.

Logan let the photo fall open in his fingers, and exhaled a shaky, steadying breath. There was a laugh in it somewhere.

“Oh,” he said.

“Didn’t know you were looking for it,” Finn replied, and trailed his fingers, cold from his beer, over Logan’s wrist, then reached up to fiddle briefly with his necklace.

Logan traced his eyes over the same, gaudy string lights in the photo, their same smiles—the one Logan knew he wore more freely these days.

Logan folded the picture closed again, and slipped it back into its place in Finn’s wallet.

“You want it, Lo?” Finn asked.

Logan shook his head. “I like that you have it.”

Finn stretched out a foot, ankle hooking around Logan’s, pulling him a little closer again, to stand nearly between his legs.

“I had it all that first year,” Finn smiled. “On my own.”

Logan narrowed his eyes. “Don’t.”

Finn grinned, singing off-key. “Pretending he’s beside me—”

Logan groaned, shoving his shoulder a little. “Okay, D’accord, I walked into that.”

Finn laughed loudly, and then swung his arm around Logan’s shoulders. “Let’s go find Le, get more food.”

They strode towards the tables.

“Hey!” Evgeni called out. He was standing with Olli and Jackson, his looming form leaning over the pier. “Ten bucks I jump!”

“Kuns, you don’t want to swim in this river,” Finn said.

“He’s going in whether you pay him or not,” Jackson shook his head. “At some point tonight.” He grinned, the scar that ran down one of his cheeks dimpling when he smiled. “Bet you twenty.”

“Nado,” Evgeni gasped, slapping his arm. “We split. Even.”

“No fucking way.”

Logan let Finn lead him away from their bickering, towards where he could immediately spot Leo, standing with Remus and Thomas. Logan felt everything just—soften.

“Do you ever think you could just find him?” Finn asked softly, the hand around Logan’s shoulders gesturing in Leo’s direction. “I mean, even if you couldn’t see him. You know?”

“Ouais,” Logan said, voice just as soft. “I know.”

Leo was mid-laugh when he spotted them, too.

“I gotta say,” he said as he met them halfway, hand on his hip, sunglasses in his hair. “I did a pretty damn good job.”

Logan huffed out a laugh. “You did. Really good.”

Finn snorted. “Way to take the credit, Nut.”

“He deserves it,” Logan said. “I was just here.”

“Lo’s the gift master,” Leo swung his arm around his shoulders. “And I’m the food master. Sounds about right?”

Logan patted Leo’s chest. “Are you going to jump in?”

Leo raised his eyebrows, squinting out at the water. “Do I want to swim in this water?”

“I’d swim if it was with you two,” Finn said. “I’d risk the murky monsters of the deep.”

“You gotta wait twenty minutes after eating,” Leo said. “And I haven’t tried the soft serve yet. They have swirls, they have mango, I mean, come on. I did so good.”

Finn laughed. “And I’m going to kiss you stupid later.”

“And I’m going to hold you to that,” Leo leaned in a little. “Birthday boy.”

They found Sirius holding a cone out to Remus by the machine, and Remus wrinkling his nose.

“C’est la vanille!” Sirius was laughing. “Quoi? Really? You don’t like vanilla?”

“You do?” Remus shook his head.

“Y’all we’ve caught the couple splashed on the front of every magazine in a, dare I say,” Leo paused, “fight?”

“First it’s pineapple pizza, now it’s vanilla,” Remus reached up, pushing Sirius’ chin length hair out of his eyes. “What did I sign up for?”

“Carrying his hair ties for him, apparently,” Finn reached out and snapped the tie around Remus’ wrist.

Remus rolled his eyes, and Logan thought Sirius might have blushed. When Logan reached up to poke at his cheek, he slapped his hand away and Logan laughed.

Sirius dragged Remus away towards where Julian, Remus’ little brother, was calling them over to the beanbag toss, and, momentarily tucked behind the shade of the soft-serve station, Logan felt Leo pull the both of them closer.

“Pretty good beginning to the end of the summer,” he sighed, licking his own cone.

“It was a damn good summer,” Finn grinned. “Hey, give me.”

Logan watched Leo hold out his cone to Finn, and agreed. It had been more than a good summer. It had been a perfect summer, and something in that made Logan stupidly worried. Sun and salt, and cold wine, and hot bodies pressed together as the moon rose. Logan closed his eyes for a moment, tucked between the two of them, and tried not to ruin this peace by thinking about all the times peace hadn’t been there.

This was Finn’s day. This was their season. Logan tilted his chin up and let the sweet mango of Leo’s ice cream sweeten his thoughts.

Noelle wasn’t at Finn’s party, and Thomas could feel it. He fiddled with the new, thin gold hoops she’d gifted him, barely circling away from his ears, the left one with a pearl strung along.

I’m the lucky one who found you, she’d said.

And he’d had to go and ruin it by trying to be funny, even while tears were pressing up as close to him as she was.

What does that make us, oysters?

She’d laughed, looked happy, but Thomas wished he’d said something else. He wished he had gotten something for her. He wished she wasn’t so far away.

I miss you, he tapped out on his phone, and that felt perfectly honest. Simple. Enough.

The three dots popped up and then went away. Thomas tried not to let it mean anything. She deserved to be busy. She worked just as hard—harder—than he did. Still, something like relief flooded through him when a long string of pink hearts answered him.

I miss YOU, T baby. Good party?? Tell Harzy happy bday for me.

Thomas blew out a breath. Will do. Say hi to the girls for me.

“You look like sad sunshine,” Natalie’s voice came, and he looked up to see her walking towards him, taking a sip from a honey colored beer with a lime wedged into it.

“I’m a little sad, Sunshine, like it or not,” Thomas laughed softly, pocketing his phone. “Where are the boys?”

“Canoodling,” Natalie sighed, hopping up onto one of the stools beside him under the umbrella. She had her long blond hair swept up into two french braids. “We’re both getting in our last drops of Alex, I think.”

Thomas nodded. “Hey, I never really asked, Nat. That just…happened this summer, or what?”

Natalie smiled. “Well, when I met Kasey, he hadn’t made it big yet, still on the Rangers farm team, but Alex had been on the Rangers for…maybe about a year? I can’t quite remember. I think Kase had only gotten called up a few times, so they’d met. But anyway, we start dating, two years later he gets a big boy contract with the Rags, and we get to know Alex. I saw him at team dinners only at first.” She smiled. “I was like, cutie, look at those freckles. But I had Kase, you know? I was pretty confused when I started looking a little closer. I mean, I was so happy.”

She pushed her sunglasses into her hair, leaning an elbow on the table and fiddling with a gold necklace at her throat that had the number 30 strung across the leather cord. Thomas wondered if she was going to add a 28 to that, Alex’s number, or if she’d get another one. He wondered if Noelle would want something like that. Maybe they could wear each other’s. He liked the thought.

“Well,” Natalie said. “I was confused until I noticed Kasey looking, but he wasn’t pulling away from me and I thought, hey…maybe this is something?”

“But that was how many years ago?”

Natalie took another drink. “No, yeah, nothing ever happened. Actually, I think they kissed once or twice. Roadies, you know? But Kasey gets traded, and then Finn arrived and we were like, wow, cruel joke.”

Thomas laughed. “I bet. But it meant Alex comes around again.”

She grinned. “That it did.”

Thomas held his drink up for a cheers. “Guess we owe those Cubs a lot.”

She clinked their bottles together. “Life’s weird. But, yeah, it happened this summer officially. Went to the O’Hara Hampton house, and I think we just loved being together. I forgot a little, how wonderful Alexander is. But,” she was smiling wildly again. “I woke up one morning and the boys had gone on a walk, they got back three hours later holding hands, Alex kissed me, and something changed. Maybe they worked through some history of theirs. We’re his now, he’s ours, whatever you want to call it.” She laughed. “Pretty good for a morning’s work.”

“Pretty good,” Thomas repeated.

“I’m worried it’ll be hard, though,” she sighed, chest rising and falling dejectedly. “He’s all the way in Florida and we’re here, together.”

Thomas glanced back down at his phone. “Yeah.”

“I bet that makes me sound like a snob to you,” she reached out and squeezed his hand.

He waved her off. “No, no, I just…we’re new, me and Noelle. Sometimes I worry that we’re too new for…for this.”

Natalie shook her head. “I think distance is distance. And, if it doesn’t work, it isn’t the physical space between two people. It’s a different sort of far away.”

Thomas tapped his fingers against his glass. “You just have something to say for everything, huh, Nat?”

She grinned. “Pretty mouth, gotta use it.”

Thomas snorted. “You’re not wrong.”

“Come on,” she said. “I’m going to whip your ass a ring toss.”

“Yeah fucking right.”

“Apparently they closed down a bunch of streets,” Remus was saying, still bleary-eyed and waking up as Sirius made the coffee. “That’s awesome.”

“It’s a parade. Of course,” Sirius said as he pushed the lid of their french press down.

Remus looked up to see him smiling and rolled his eyes, laughing, “Okay, sure, but it’s still crazy. They say it’s going to bigger than the Cup Parade was in June.”

That made Sirius’ eyebrows raise. “Really?”

Remus hummed in agreement, clicking his phone off and popping his back. “Well. I know Pride is in June, but I’m happy we get to do this, too.”

Sirius nodded, sliding onto the stool beside Remus with two waiting mugs. “Captain gets the Cup last. I don’t make the rules.”

Remus just yawned and let his temple fall against Sirius’ shoulder, closing his eyes as Sirius’ warm palm came to brush over his hair and neck.

“September is in two weeks,” Remus mumbled. “How the hell did that happen?”

Sirius poured their coffee and pressed a kiss against Remus’ hair. “You’ll be fine.”

“Hm?”

“I know you’re nervous for training camp. You’ve seen it a million times, though.”

“Yeah,” Remus sighed and sat up pulling his steaming mug close. “Seen it.”

Sirius laughed, going to the refrigerator for the milk. His hair was in dark, glorious tangles, and Remus vaguely wondered how much time they had before they needed to get ready.

“I meant,” Sirius leaned over the island and poured them both milk before capping it again and going for the brown sugar. Remus smiled when he realized that Sirius had picked that up from Remus’ mom, Hope. “I meant that you know it never comes across like…like some insane competition for spots.”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “It is, though. I mean, not for the Sirius Black, but…”

“D’accord,” Sirius nodded. “Okay, okay. But you know what I mean?”

“I’m not worried about the team,” Remus said as Sirius came to sit down again. “I’m worried I’m not going to make the team.”

Sirius shook his head, set his mug down, and all but pulled Remus off of his stool to gather him close. Remus mumbled something about cold coffee, but smiled as he let himself be kissed good morning, kissed calm, kissed loved.

“I’m not worried,” Sirius whispered, and kissed him some more.

Remus had barely shut his car door—having opened it to cheers—before he was getting an armful of his little brother.

“Oof,” Remus grunted, but squeezed him, lifting him off of his feet. “Nice outfit, Jules.”

Julian jumped back, his Lupin Lions Pride jersey actually fitting him for once. “Thanks, dad found it for me.”

“He insisted on wearing it,” Hope Lupin smiled as she walked up. “But you’re going to roast so tell me when you want your t-shirt, baby, it’s in my bag. Hi, Re.”

“Hi, mom,” Remus let her kiss his cheek a few times.

“Salut,” Sirius grinned from beside him. Remus watched them hug, warmed more deeply than by the heat. Hope patted Sirius’ chest where a faded rainbow twelve was printed on his t-shirt. Remus was going to steal that thing as soon as he took it off.

“What a party!” Hope grinned. “Is someone grilling? Thought I smelled it.”

Remus nodded. “Yeah, they got this restaurant downtown to bring BBQ.”

“Is there ice cream?” Julian said, huffing. “I’m hot.”

Sirius plucked at his jersey jokingly. “Mais, ouais, it’s almost ninety!”

Hope laughed, and put a hand on Julian’s back. “I’ll get him cooled off. Your dad’s around here somewhere with Pascal. Meet you on the float in ten. And make sure you’re wearing sunscreen!”

Remus watched his family wind their way through the colorful, crowded streets, felt Sirius’ fingers lace through his own, and smiled.

The sun did beat down hot, but Remus didn’t mind so much, not when they were filed onto the float that was equipped with a red and gold Lions head roaring at the front and rainbow streamers at the back, like an extension of the mane. The Cup sat on a high pedestal between them, strapped in shining.

The crowd was wild. People were hanging out of the tall parking garage that lined one side. The pavement was painted in thick strips of rainbow in some places, and red and gold in others.

Gryffindor loved their Lions. It almost made Remus want to cry, seeing how happy Sirius was. Half of the team was on their float, some of them walking beside. Remus spotted Logan sporting a rainbow brimmed hat walking with Kasey and returned the peace sign Logan sent up.

“Everyone is decked out, man,” James shouted in Remus’ ear from beside him, Harry on his hip. He and Lily had returned in time for Finn’s birthday. He was wearing a Lions Pride shirt, and Harry had a tiny one to match and a sunhat that practically covered his entire body that Lily kept coming over to adjust. James grinned. “Damn. Good Cup Day.”

“It’s not my Cup Day,” Remus laughed. “But I do sort of feel like this is my day.”

James just smiled, pointing at people for Harry to wave at. “Maybe won’t have to make that distinction next year, eh? Look, Har, see the flags? You want one, bud?”

“Re,” Sirius leaned in, and Remus felt his hand on his back. “Want to walk a bit?”

Remus nodded, eyes finding where Leo, Jackson, Evgeni, and Olli were walking together, keeping time with the floats and talking to the crowd. Leo had a rainbow flag painted on one cheek, Natalie’s work.

Remus felt for his own hat, flipping the colorful brim backwards as he hopped down.

“Hey,” Jackson grinned, throwing an arm around Remus’ shoulders. Evgeni had one of Sergei’s daughters in his arms, chatting with the crowd. He wasn’t wearing Jackson’s rainbow-striped shirt, but it looked like one of the kids had stuck two stickers on one of his cheeks that he wasn’t bothering removing. Remus wondered if he was worried, about his family, or his country, like he had told Sirius. It sent a wave of thankfulness through him, the fact that he was here.

“Nado,” Remus hugged Jackson. “Jesus, seriously, what did you do this summer? You look fit, man.”

“You see him,” Evgeni called over, handing a sharpie back to someone wrapped almost entirely in a flag covered with glitter. “Stare in the mirror, in love.”

“I don’t,” Jackson protested.

Evgeni just shrugged, spinning Sergei’s daughter around. “I’m see you.”

“Well, hand some over,” Remus said.

Jackson just gave him a shake. “You’re going to make the team.”

“Maybe,” Remus groaned out a laugh, knocking him away.

“No maybes,” Sirius said, sidling up to Remus’ side and replacing Jackson’s arm.

“Sirius! Cap!” someone called, and Remus felt Sirius tense a little, as he always did in crowds, or media.

The person calling had short brown hair and seemed to have tailored a loose jersey of Sirius’ into a form-fitting dress. The sleeves were cut and hemmed by the twelves on the sleeves.

“Salut!” they said, accent stiff, and laughed. “I tried.”

That seemed to ease Sirius a little, and Remus tugged him to a stop.

“Salut,” Sirius smiled. “Wow, that’s my jersey?”

They nodded, eyes sliding over to Remus. “It is. My girlfriend was hoping to have a Lupin one so we can match, but…”

The girl beside her, black hair tucked up in a bandana, smiled and threw her hands up. “When are they stocking those! I have two hundred bucks I’m ready to drop, I mean, let’s go before I second guess myself!”

Remus laughed. “Oh man, I’ve been there.”

“With my jersey, ouais?” Sirius grinned was teasing as he signed an autograph and Remus blushed.

“Here,” Sirius took out his phone. “You can give me your phone number, if you’re okay with it, and I’ll get you one? Yeah?”

“Oh…are you kidding?” the girl put a hand over her mouth. “Oh my God, I…yes, Cap, you can have my phone number, sure fucking thing.”

They moved along the crowd easily. Sirius grabbed the Cup at one point, walking it along for people to touch just as their entire team had in June. Remus stayed well away.

“No jinxes here,” an older man in a Lions Pride shirt laughed, his arm around his son. He held out his hand. “My entire family’s been Lions fans for generations. Glad to have you on the team.”

His son, the very image of his father, smiled and tentatively held out a sharpie. “Would you sign my shirt? I’ve seen your tapes and everything, I…you’re my favorite. I was thinking about getting out of hockey before you.”

Remus blinked. “I…” he took the sharpie, swallowing around the tightness in his throat. “I’m glad you’re staying. Are you a defenseman?”

He lit up. “How’d you know?”

Remus shrugged, smiling. “You hold yourself like one.”

“I hope that’s a good thing!” Remus heard Olli call from a little ways down.

He laughed. “How did you hear that?”

Remus signed the boy’s shirt, thanked him, and jogged a little to catch up with Sirius.

“I’ll take that,” Jackson grinned, and plucked the Cup from Sirius’ grasp.

“It’s my Cup Day!” Sirius laughed, but wrapped his arm around Remus instead. “Hi.”

“That was my first signature,” Remus said softly, to Sirius only, and Sirius squeezed his shoulders.

“The first of many.”

It was a bit of a blur after that. Natalie brought them ice cream and cold lemonade, which turned Sirius’ kisses even sweeter when they made it back home, out of the heat and stumbling, happy and sun-kissed. Sirius’ entrance hall was dark to Remus’ unadjusted eyes, and he focused on his palms, splayed over Sirius’ broad back. He yelped when a voice rang out from the living room.

“We’re on the couch!” Regulus shouted. “Just so you know!”

Sirius broke the kiss, looking flushed and dazed. “What…why?”

“I live here!” Regulus’ voice called back.

Remus suppressed a smile, and leaned his forehead against Sirius’ chest, trying to calm his breathing and any flush of arousal that had been beginning to stir up.

“Fuck,” Sirius swore. “How did he get home before us?”

“Who’s we?” Remus called out.

“Howdy,” Leo’s voice came.

Sirius sighed. “It’s my Cup Day.”

Remus gave his hip a short pat before walking down the hallway and rounding the corner to find Leo and Regulus slouched on the couch, AC on full blast.

“Right,” Remus nodded. “You’re suppose to be helping Reg pack for school.”

Regulus glanced up from his phone. “There’s twenty different gifs of you jumping down from the float and turning his hat backwards on Twitter.”

Remus blinked. “What?” He didn’t even remember doing that.

Leo nodded, crunching a potato chip. “And we’ve only been looking for ten minutes.”

“Huh,” Sirius said, turning towards the kitchen. He stopped, hesitated for a moment, and turned back. “Let me see.”

Remus huffed out a laugh. “I need water.”

“Donne-moi!” Sirius demanded of Regulus, grabbing for his phone.

“You have your own phone!” Remus made out Regulus’ reply in French.

Remus filled his glass, downed in, and was filling it again when Leo came into the kitchen, rolling his eyes and smiling.

“Thought I’d leave the brothers to fight. Can’t believe I used to be scared of both of them.”

Remus laughed, too. “Right?”

Remus watched Leo grab a glass, spinning his own slowly around on the counter. “Are you…”

Leo glanced up. “Hm?”

Remus took a breath. “Tell me if I’m overstepping, but I know today must’ve been a little…” he took his hat off, the colorful bill bright against the dark stone of the counter.

Leo nodded in understanding, sliding onto a stool. “It wasn’t…hard. It was actually good to see all of the support. I could see it in Finn and Logan, too. Logan is nervous.” He nodded to himself. “More nervous than me and Finn. Understandably. I mean, you know how long he and Finn…” Leo shook his head. “I was happy he got to see that. And Finn was happy, I know, too. Maybe we’ll start making plans. I mean, this summer was just fucking heaven. Just being together. Like, I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy.”

“Me too,” Remus sat on the stool beside him. They smiled at each other, then laughed. “I’m happy for you guys.”

“I am, too,” Leo grinned. “All right, I think me and Reg have to actually put his clothes in suitcases now.”

“Good luck.”

“That boy owns, like, five t-shirts,” Leo drained his glass and put it in the sink. “Shouldn’t be too hard.”

Remus grabbed a third glass and followed Leo back into the living room where they found Sirius leaning over the back of the couch, squinting at Regulus’ phone. He did a double take when he spotted Remus.

“Hey, where’s your hat?”

Remus snorted. “I’m not a twitter gif. C’mon, I need a shower.”

Regulus raised a teasing eyebrow. “And you need him for that?”

Remus stuck out his tongue. “Yeah.”

Sirius flicked the back of Regulus’ head. “Go pack.”

Remus tugged his t-shirt off on their way up the stairs. “That was wonderful, but fuck do I wish it wasn’t a thousand degrees.”

“I don’t know,” came Sirius’ reply from behind him as they entered their bedroom, followed by his hands on Remus’ hips and his lips against his neck. “When it’s hot, your hair sticks to your neck just…” he kissed just by Remus’ ear gently. “Here.”

Remus bit back a smile. “With sweat.”

“It’s handsome, I think.”

Remus laughed, turning in Sirius’ arms. He was summer tan and happy. Remus didn’t think he’d ever get tired of seeing that grin, one that was more and more present lately. Sirius laughed and made small talk with fans who asked for pictures—even today, he had seemed to almost enjoy the crowds and the media. Remus touched his number twelve necklace. He brought it to his lips. “You’re handsome.”

They stepped into the shower together and stood in the peace and quiet of the beating down water, turned cool against their heated skin. Remus rested his head against Sirius’ chest, and smiled when he felt Sirius lace their fingers together. It wasn’t exactly a new thing anymore, but it still felt new. It had been that way when James, Lily, and Harry had first arrived home and Sirius had done it on the table between them at the restaurant, just as it had been early in June, when Sirius had done it while they waiting in line to board their plane.

Remus looked up, squeezing his hand, and Sirius bent to take Remus’ mouth against his own again. It was softer, but Remus felt just as giddy from the day’s events. A parade. A Cup Day.

He wanted one of his own.

“Love you, mon loup,” he smiled. “Thank you for today.”

Remus ran his hand over Sirius’ broad shoulders. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You did everything,” Sirius whispered back. “You are part of me allowing myself things.”

Remus felt his expression soften.

“Heather explained it that way,” Sirius said. “I thought it was well put.”

Heather, the team’s sports psychiatrist. Remus had only actually met her a few times, but Sirius valued her highly, had called her a few times during the off season.

“I like it, too,” he said, and let Sirius pull him close again.

They threw the windows open to let the cooling breeze in once they were back downstairs, and Sirius put steaks on the grill for the two of them.

“Where’d Reg and Nut go?” Sirius asked.

“I think out with some of the boys,” Remus said, and followed as Sirius went back out to the patio. He notched his hip against the door frame. “Hey, do you want to go to the rink tomorrow? All this Cup talk has got me wanting to skate, like, now.”

Sirius tilted his head back and laughed. “With you? Always.”

Remus grinned and padded back over to the counter where the salad was waiting for dressing.

“I’m glad we didn’t end up having everyone over,” Remus said as he tossed it. “As much as I love them.”

Sirius hummed, sliding the screen door of the deck closed. He set the plate and tongs down before wrapping his arms around Remus.

“As much as I love them,” he repeated quietly, lips brushing against Remus’ neck. “I want you all to myself right now.”

Remus leaned back against him. “My thoughts exactly, baby.”

Sirius smiled against his skin. “Glad we’re on the same page. Vanilla hater.”

Remus pinched his arm. “Pineapple hater.”

Cole woke up to the smell of bacon and eggs wafting down to his room from the kitchen—and Katie Dumais curled up at the foot of his bed.

He jumped a little, and then sat up slowly. It took him a moment to realize that she wasn’t asleep, but that she was fiddling with a little charm bracelet, her eyes down.

He cleared his throat. “Uh, hi, Katie.”

She looked up, and a grin lit up her face. “Mom says breakfast is ready. I didn’t want to wake you up, even though she told me to.”

He sat up a little more. “How long ago was that?”

Katie wrinkled her nose. “Maybe four hours?”

Cole blinked, and picked up his phone from his nightstand. It was eight-thirty. He glanced back at Katie.

“Can you tell time?” he asked slowly.

“Not really,” she sighed happily, and kept fiddling with her bracelet. “You still have rainbow paint on your face.”

Cole laughed, rubbing a hand over his cheek, where Lily Potter had painted a flag the day before, for the parade. Where the Stanley Cup had been.

It still all felt surreal to say.

“Okay. Um, tell her I’ll be up in a second, okay?”

Katie nodded. “Okay!”

Cole listened to her footsteps scamper all the way up the stairs before he flopped back down on his pillows and chuckled to himself. He gave his teeth a quick brush and followed.

“Bon matin,” Celeste smiled as she flipped a few more pieces of bacon onto a plate. “How did you sleep? I think that heat yesterday tired everyone out.”

Cole slid onto a stool beside Marc and Louis, Katie to his right. “Really good, thanks.”

“The air conditioner isn’t acting up again?” Celeste asked. “Logan was always having trouble with that thing.”

“It didn’t turn on right away, but I fixed it,” Cole smiled when she set a steaming plate of eggs, bacon and fruit in front of him, and then another plate with toast. “My mom’s big with her tool kit, so, I mean, if you ever need anything around the house, I know some stuff. Just so I can…help out. Thank you for letting me stay.”

Celeste beamed. “Oh, sweetheart, we’re not just letting you stay. We’re very happy you’re here. Someone your age shouldn’t be alone, especially with all the pressure that comes with this job. But I will absolutely take you up on that. You wouldn’t know how to build me some planters, would you? Pascal bought the wood ages ago,” she turned back to the sink, waving a spatula. “Always saying he will take care of it, and yet there it sits!”

Cole laughed softly. “Yeah, I can do that. Sounds good.”

“Well, good,” Celeste smiled, pulling her purse over her shoulder. “Now, Pascal is with Sergei for an ice session—which you’re always invited to, he says, by the way—I’m taking Louis to tennis, and Marc to space camp. Layla will be here soon, but do you mind looking after Katie until she gets here? Adele’s up in her room if you have any questions. She’ll know.”

Cole nodded, trying to swallow the eggs quickly. “Of course. No problem.”

Celeste smiled. “She loves you enough already, she’ll be no trouble.”

“She’s always trouble,” Louis mumbled.

Celeste tisked, but kissed his head. “Come on, up. Cole, you have some of the boys’ numbers, too, right?”

“Um,” Cole thought of Sirius Black’s number in his phone from when he called him. “Yes?”

“Good. I know you don’t have a car yet, and you’re always welcomed to ours when it’s available, but if you ever need a ride anywhere, I’m sure any one of them will drive you.”

Cole, for the life of him, didn’t think he would ever be able to bring himself to call Sirius Black up and ask him to drive him to, what, Target? Jesus.

“Right,” Cole tried for a smile and knew it came out nervous. “Thanks.”

Katie did turn out to be a pretty easy kid. Even if she did seem to switch activities at a rapid pace. She drew, and then she watched half of a TV show, and then she was hungry, but she did all of it herself. After less than 30 minutes she had parked both of them on the couch where they were stringing beads for necklaces.

“I’ll make you Lions colors,” she said seriously.

That had been Cole’s best—and only—idea. He glanced at the multi-colored kit. “What colors do you want?”

“Surprise me.”

Cole smiled. “All right. What’s your charm bracelet?” He nodded to the small silver ring around her wrist.

“It’s from Tremzy,” Katie thrust her wrist forward. “He gets me one every one of my birthdays. There’s a hockey stick, because we love hockey, and an ice cream cone, because we love ice cream, and this is a book because we read together, and—”

There was the ding that told Cole that Layla had arrived, coming in from the garage, and Katie was off again.

“Hi,” Cole said, leaning against the kitchen doorframe.

Layla looked up from trying to put her things down and hug Katie at the same time. “Hey, Cole.”

“How’s it going?” Cole asked, feeling decidedly more prepared this time. Layla was in a green tank-top today, but her same shorts and gold rings.

“Busy,” she laughed. “I actually have my first orientation this evening, at the rink.”

Cole nodded. “Nice. I’ve never actually been inside. Well, not yet, I guess.”

Layla straightened at that. “Well…I’m driving over once Celeste gets home, just to see the place first.” She seemed to take a breath. “Do you want to come with?”

They didn’t have full gear, but the chilled rink was a relief against the sweat they worked up anyway. Remus borrowed a helmet—his own hadn’t been sent out yet—and used his old, worn in CCM skates.

“I can still beat you in these,” Remus panted as he skated backwards, tapping the puck back and forth and trying to gauge which way Sirius was going to dodge first.

“Oh, I know,” Sirius said, then lifted his right foot and went left.

Remus knocked the puck out of his stick towards the boards, and it sent them both chasing it.

“You use that trick too much!” Remus laughed, it echoing across the empty rink, as he shoved Sirius against the glass, the puck trapped between his skate blade and the foot of the boards.

“What about this one?” Sirius said, and turned to press their mouths together. Remus smiled into it, and it was enough to allow Sirius to steal the puck back.

“No!” Remus laughed as Sirius carried the puck expertly across the blue line, winding his stick up and taking a deadly slap shot, notching it perfectly in the upper left corner of the empty goal.

He dropped to a knee, sliding into a celebration before wrapping around the goal with a final whoop and crashing back into Remus for another kiss.

“Wanna run plays?” Sirius asked. “I’ll be your center if you’ll be my winger.”

Remus smiled as they reset themselves, pushing the used pucks towards the boards. “That might not happen.”

“Maybe I have more pull than you think.”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “Not that much, baby. What’s going to happen is I’ll start on the fourth line, go from there. Anything else and every journalist in the city would go batshit crazy.”

Sirius just scooped another puck into the goal, then hooked his arms over his stick, the body behind his neck. “Wouldn’t be our first time causing that.”

Remus smiled. “True.” He nudged Sirius towards center ice. “Face-off.”

Sirius took his helmet off to push his hair back. “Let’s do it.”

Remus was just tugging off his shirt, smiling as he listened to Sirius rattle of plans for the season, when he heard two voices laughing from the hallway. Sirius’ smile dropped, and he narrowed his eyes at the door.

“Don’t know,” Sirius said. “Hey, where are we meeting the guys for—”

“Should we check out the locker room?” one of the outside voices said—higher. “Do you think it’s open?”

“Non,” Sirius mumbled under his breath, grabbing for the back of his own shirt.

The door opened hesitantly at first, then wider, revealing Layla and Cole.

Cole flushed, and Layla’s mouth opened, then closed.

“Oh my god,” she said. “Sorry, we didn’t think…”

Remus glanced at Sirius, but when he didn’t say anything, just pretending to fiddle grumpily with his bag, he waved them off.

“Hey, we were just swinging by for a quick skate. It’s not our locker room,” he smiled. “Well, not only ours. You guys have the same idea?”

“Not skating, maybe,” Layla replied, twisting one of her braids around her finger. She looked up at Cole, who still looked like he thought he was in the wrong place, and smiled. “But neither of us have really gotten to look around yet, so, we thought we would.”

Remus smiled, using his dirty t-shirt to wipe sweat from his brow. “Nice. Well, maybe Cap and I can give you a tour or something some time.”

Sirius glanced up. “Marls does that.”

Remus tried to send Sirius a look with his eyes, but Sirius just glanced mournfully towards what Remus thought might be the video review room.

“Well…” Remus said hesitantly.

“We’ll keep looking around,” Layla said quickly. “See you guys around.”

Remus watched them to make sure the door was closed, then turned and punched Sirius in the arm.

“Quoi?” Sirius asked.

“Grumpy.”

“I liked it just us,” Sirius mumbled. “I thought we could plan plays or—or watch tape.”

Remus laughed, pressing his forehead to Sirius’ chest. “You’re such a baby.”

One corner of Sirius’ mouth raised. “So?”

“You wanted the rookie to stop making moon eyes at you,” Remus said. “Here’s your chance.”

“D’accord,” Sirius’ grin spread as he gathered Remus closer by his hips. “But will you keep making moon eyes at me?”

Remus leaned up for a gentle kiss. “I’m going to ask them to lunch. Wait here, Captain, you scare the rookie.”

“I don’t,” Sirius sighed, and Remus pushed out the locker room door.

“Hey,” Remus jogged to catch up as Cole and Layla turned at his voice. “Us and some of the other guys are planning to get lunch. How about it? You, too, Layla.”

Layla blinked. “Seriously?”

Remus laughed. “Team lunch isn’t a team lunch without the PT. Or, one of them, at least.”

Layla grinned. “Right. Well, I’d love to.”

Cole nodded quickly. “I—yeah. Yeah, cool. That rooftop place again?”

“You’re already picking up on team favorites, I see.”

Cole smiled sheepishly. “Kuny makes us go there every time.”

“It’s the sushi,” Remus laughed. “He’s a man obsessed. Well, cool. Meet you there in twenty?”

Layla jingled her keys. “See you there.”

“Sushi,” Evgeni all but moaned as he picked up a piece of yellowtail.

“Jesus, Kuns,” Jackson said. “You can’t eat all of that by yourself.”

Evgeni was chewing with his eyes closed. “You don’t know.”

“All right,” Thomas leaned forward, folding his sunglasses into his shirt in the shade of their umbrella. “What do we think this season, boys? Predictions, let me hear them.”

They all looked to Sirius first, who leaned back in his chair, one arm over the back of Remus’. He took a sip of his iced tea.

“Rangers,” he said finally.

“Uh-huh,” James nodded.

“Same,” Layla said, taking a spoonful of her miso soup.

“Caps, maybe,” Sirius continued.

“Definitely,” Remus said.

“I’m feeling Avs?” Thomas offered. “And I don’t want to say Snakes, but…yuck.”

“More like Vegas,” Remus said.

The table paused, and Remus just shook his head.

“It’s true,” he said, glancing at Cole and Layla, trying to decide if they’d noticed the shift in the air. He had to be able to talk about this. About him. "They’re deep this year.”

“Yeah,” Cole said softly. “Greyback’s killer.”

Remus felt the entire table tense and felt immediately guilty. Cole didn’t know what he had said, and Remus all but watched him wonder if he’d said something wrong.

“And us,” Thomas grinned, slapping Cole on the back. “We’ve got Lupin now. We’ve got Reyes.”

Remus rolled his eyes, but laughed. He tried to express his thanks silently, and Thomas winked at him.

This felt different. He had known it would. Team dinners would be his dinners now, not a friendly tag-along invite. Driving to practice with Sirius, they would go through almost the same routine, not split off for his office and the locker room. These were his teammates. He’d win and lose with them, and they with him, in a way they hadn’t before. Sitting there, in the sunshine that was going to turn colder, Remus looked forward to a year of this.

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favoniuscodex · 3 years

Text

intergalactic au w/ zhongli, childe, and xiao

prompt: futuristic/intergalactic!au w/ zhongli, childe, and xiao for my 1.5k follower event pairings: zhongli x gn!reader, childe x gn!reader, xiao x gn!reader, word count: 2.8k words (i really like this au, ok?) a/n: haha oh jeez ok my knowledge of intergalactic stuff is an amalgamation of different stuff so this is gonna involve a few different types of space stuff! some of these are longer than others, apologies for the discrepancies in length! i had to stop some of these from becoming full fics hhhh

ZHONGLI

“so,” you state, unceremoniously slamming your hands down on the metal lunch table in front of you. “rex lapis. discuss.”

the two colleagues sitting in front of you differ in reactions to your noisy gesture. the shorter and angrier of the two, xiao, jumps slightly at the sudden intrusion, despite the bustling noise of the starship’s cafeteria surrounding the three of you. at his side, zhongli sits, regal as ever, sipping on a cup of tea that fails to shake within his grip. the brunette sets the drink down on the table before him and looks at you patiently.

“what do you wish for us to discuss?” zhongli asks while xiao scowls at you in annoyance.

“there’s nothing to discuss,” xiao grumbles, cutting up cubes of the low-grade tofu in front of him with the side of his fork absentmindedly. “he died. the end.”

“did he?” you challenge and xiao lets out a heavy sigh of a man worn out by your mere existence. “alright, zhongli, hear me out on this. what if it’s just a coverup by the liyuean fleet? none of us really even knew what he looked like, who he was, et cetera et cetera, y’know? so like... he could very well be alive.”

“indulging in conspiracy theories,” xiao mutters. “how mature of you.” he grouchily stabs some of the decimated remains of the tofu cubes in front of them and takes a bite, wincing slightly at the low quality texture. however, zhongli’s honey eyes shine with mirth at your proposition.

“i believe that such notions are never beyond the realm of possibility,” zhongli confesses, causing xiao to sputter and choke on his cafeteria meal.

“you have to be kidding me. that’s the dumbest thing i’ve ever heard. they could’ve just said he retired or something. why would the fleet cover up his existence with a falsified death?” xiao challenges, his gaze flickering between your smug expression and zhongli’s entirely placated one.

“some people say rex lapis turned into a dragon and flew away. oooo~! watch out, xiao, he’s going to come for you, oooo~!” you mimic the sounds of a ghost as you flap your hands in a wing-like motion, leaning in closer to xiao, who leans away in repulsion and fear. xiao shrieks slightly as you breach his personal space and he hides behind zhongli’s figure, whose intense gaze causes you to stop your teasing and sit up straight, despite a soft smile gracing his elegant features.

“(y/n),” zhongli questions in a soft tone reserved only for you. “did you finish your review of the engine room’s oxygen and sediment filter?”

you look sheepishly down at the tray of food in front of you. “no, but... nobody’s allowed in the engine room right now. some dumb intern got his keycard stolen so the whole room is on lockdown while they reprogram everyone else’s.”

“well, if you have no other tasks to complete today, would you like to assist me with my research?” zhongli asks and, with no hesitation, you nod in response.

“of course! do you still need help with analyzing how to best redirect flow of air in the suits of the astronauts traveling to planet 48-ab-9?” you say, looking to make sure you and zhongli are on the same page. he smiles at you, which gives you the answer you need before the words even fall from his lips.

“yes, but there may also be possible diversions to other planets and air pressure within the spacesuits on one planet may cause ruptures in the other and-” zhongli begins, but is interrupted by xiao standing up abruptly, the tofu on his tray barely touched.

“i am full!” xiao declares, which causes you to narrow your eyes at him in disbelief. zhongli, however, buys xiao’s blatant lie. “which means, like every upstanding worker of the liyuean fleet, it’s time to return back to the contractual chains of coding hell!”

you can only watch as the green-haired man scurries off without waiting for your responses, far too eager to return to the cybersecurity job he always seems to complain about.

“so, where were we?” zhongli asks, capturing your undivided attention once more. you let out a soft huff of amusement at the situation and flash a smile in return.

---

zhongli is a consistently overlooked member of the liyuean fleet, residing as one of the few interplanetary geologists on board. to put it simply, zhongli works alongside you, an environmental engineer, to help ensure the safety of liyuean fleet explorers as they venture into unknown territory. you develop the products and do routine maintenance on various air quality-related machinery within the massive mothership of the liyuean fleet, while zhongli studies previously-recorded information about other planets in order to provide hypotheses about what potential new planets’ geological systems may be like and what needs to be done for astronauts to acclimate to them.

the talkative geologist is polite to all, but talkative to few, one of whom is you. while the two of you work side by side, the man has a tendency to ramble about the compositions of different planetary soils and what they means to human life should they encounter it. if you’re being honest with yourself, the topic nearly puts you to sleep, but you find it adorable that he can talk so passionately for so long on such a mundane topic.

you let zhongli ramble for three reasons. one: you don’t have the heart to tell him to stop. two: you have a massive crush on him that only seems to worsen the more you see his amber eyes nearly glow with passion whenever you ask questions about his work. finally, three: you’re waiting for zhongli to slip up and reveal why someone of his talent finally got assigned to the mothership immediately after the supposed death of rex lapis.

as he launches into another rambling session, you can’t help but zone zhongli out as a startling idea pops into your head about the calming man who loves three things in life (history, tea, and rocks, in that order).

could he be...? you push the thought out of your head and decide to accept the liyuean fleet command’s announcement at face value. commander rex lapis is dead and there’s absolutely, certainly, definitely no way that zhongli is the man who once brought the tsaritsa’s warships to a crumbling halt.

right?

CHILDE

the dashing rogue with a heart of gold is certainly one of the most respectable men in the galaxy. he saves damsels in distress and redistributes wealth to the poor. he’s perfect in every manner -- don’t you see his charming smile? how could you not trust him? he’ll lure you in with sweet words and false affections, brushing your hair behind your ear as he makes you giggle and flustered due to his flirtations. the illusion pops when he waltzes away from you with a wink and you realize you’re missing your wallet a few minutes later.

childe, a man of many aliases ranging from the theatrical tartaglia to the mythological ajax, is one of the galaxy’s most wanted thieves. he’ll insist he’s not a kleptomaniac, but feeds off the golden veins of wealth he steals from others as if he is a vampire, a primal instinct he can’t seem to control. no target is too big or small for the man, especially if a rival is involved.

in this case, it’s you. he finds you at a bar, in which grating electronic music blasts overhead and rainbow lights paint his skin in different colors as they flash to the beat. childe is forced to yell over the music, yet none of his signature charm is lost as he does his best to cozy up to you, buying you a drink and warding off any unwanted suitors, especially the alien with eight hands who wont stop insisting that he just wants to hold one of yours.

you almost let yourself get swept away in his radiant baby blues and his wispy, ruddy brown hair, but you’re smarter than that. you can see the intelligence in his eyes and you wonder if he can see it in yours. despite his kindness and his genuine enthusiasm to hear what you have to say, he holds an arrogance in his posture that shows that childe is underestimating you. you know what he’s after: the keycard to the liyuean fleet engine room, one you had swiped off some unsuspecting intern earlier in the day to deposit in your own safekeeping, in hopes to one day sell it to likely nefarious evildoers who would pay a pretty penny for an access key like that.

but buyers have never been one to keep secrets and you’re far too aware that loose lips sink ships -- or in this case, the main starship of the liyuean fleet -- and childe is far too aware of the card that lies within your possession. you smile as you feel his hand gently tug your wallet out of your coat pocket, an action that would have gone unnoticed if you weren’t a master thief as well. you let him walk away as he winks at you and promises to see you again, a blatant lie on his behalf.

you’re gone from your seat before he realizes the keycard isn’t in your wallet -- nothing is. it’s empty, aside from a faded business card offering the services of your thievery, with a smiley face drawn on the back and two words: duped ya! emblazoned next to the face that taunts childe. a rush of adrenaline ripples through him and he’s not sure whether it’s due to rage or excitement. as he reaches into his pocket, he decides it’s the former as childe realizes the keys to his ship are missing.

childe can’t help but smile when he sees his ship missing in the public dock nearby. after all, he had a new goal: tracking you, his treasured spaceship, and that damned keycard down, even if he would have to scour the entire galaxy just to see your eyes once more.

XIAO

“hey,” a familiar voice barks, which xiao ignores as he nuzzles his face further into his elbow, having fallen asleep at his desk. “hey!” the voice is more insistent and he feels fingers dig into his shoulder, shaking his slumped over form and moving xiao’s wheeled office chair slightly. “get up. you’re sleeping on the job and night shift is coming soon.”

as the voice continues to not leave him alone, xiao finally realizes who is speaking to him. its you. upon this realization, xiao concedes and sits up, wincing as he adjusts to the harsh fluorescent lights that illuminate the room.

“there is no night shift. we’re in space. that’s not a-” xiao complains, but upon seeing you and realizing what you’re holding up in a bag in your hand, ceases his whining and instead chooses to look up at you with wide eyes. “holy shit, is that surface almond tofu?! how did you get that?!”

“sheesh.” you begin, waving the bag slightly back and forth. “i didn’t think you would get this riled up over it.”

“i would sell my soul for a bag of that after suffering through the eternal misery that is the food on this godforsaken ship.” xiao deadpans and you can’t help but think he’s almost serious. he extends his hands to you and you can’t help but note the way the sleeves of his uniform are pushed up to his elbows, especially since his forearms showcase a plethora of scars that you rarely get to see. they signal that the man is an outsider to your legion of computer nerds (and that his well-defined forearms are really hot, but that’s beside the point).

you quickly snap out of your daze as his hands crinkle the bag you’re holding and you lightly swat his hands away from the bag, glaring at him. a scowl crosses his features at your actions and he slumps against the back of his chair, swiveling to fully face you.

“the tofu is yours, but i need something in exchange,” you bargain and you watch as xiao’s eyes narrow at the horrid implication held within your tone. “a lot of my cybersecurity guys are out trying to rework the engine room’s login mechanism... it’s a long story. anyways, i was wondering if you’d find it within the kindness of your heart to pick up one of their shifts.”

“you’re not paying me for this shift, are you?” xiao asks and you can feel your face scrunch up in irritation.

“listen, i went to hell and back to try to get you this tofu so you would say yes and you’re worried about payment? they cover lodging and food when you work he-” you begin to rant, but a rare smile from xiao makes the words die on your lips as you feel heat rise to your face.

“i never said i wouldn’t. you’re always so quick to judge.” his tone is condescending as he smirks smugly at you, reaching to take the bag of tofu from your now slackened grip as you stare at him, visibly flustered by his haughty tone in tandem with a grin you scarcely see.

“oh... uh, alright,” you try to recover, readjusting your posture to stand up straighter, willing yourself to stay composed. his golden eyes stare directly into yours as he plucks a cube of tofu out of the bag with his index finger and thumb. without breaking eye contact, he pops the tofu cube into his mouth and, after swallowing, licks his lips. “let’s um... let’s get started!”

---

xiao is a former yaksha, an elite fighter who served as part of commander rex lapis’s most trusted squadron of soldiers. after an injury rendered him unfit to return to battle, xiao decided to look for other ways to help defend the liyuean fleet, which resulted in him joining your group of cybersecurity experts, who protect the fleet by making sure all systems remain secure and that there are no electronic security breaches.

at the beginning of his job, xiao was fairly terrible with technology and would have been fired nearly immediately for his incompetence if not for his direct recommendation from rex lapis himself. unfortunately for you, you were assigned his superior and nearly lost your mind when the man had to stare at the keyboard in order to know where the keys were as he typed. xiao’s attitude was initially offputting, both sardonic and angry, but he eventually sheathed his bitter defensive weapon of haughtiness and condescension in order to ask you for help outside of work hours to help him learn how to be better at his job.

now, several years later, the two of you are fairly good friends (as good as one can be friends with xiao, you think) to the point where he whines about his dumb bumbling friends (zhongli and some other person you had yet to catch the name of) who run in circles around each other, despite the fact that they blatantly like each other. each time he complains, you scratch your head in confusion, because you and him do the exact same thing.

you’re not entirely oblivious. you’ve realized that xiao acts... different around you than he does around most people. he’s softer and more open, but you don’t want to get your hopes up, so you’ve made yourself more open in return, hoping that he’ll realize your interest. often times, your flirtations will leave him flustered and reeling, but on rare occasions, xiao will take the opportunity to fluster you instead, which is far more effective than any way you could try to charm him. you’re fairly sure he can read you like an open book, so you wait for him to confess his emotions to you.

little do you know, xiao feels the exact same way about you as he awaits your confession. no, he’s not scared of rejection. he’s a former yaksha, do you know how many people he’s taken down? why would he be scared of heartbreak and the utter agony that follows as he’s forced not only to deal with rejection but report to you at work every day? ... oh. maybe he is a little scared. just a teensy, tiny little bit scared.

but hey, if the two of you are lucky, maybe you’ll both confess at the same time after the tension between the two of you nearly suffocates you both.

#fun fact: the intern who lost the dumb keycard is xiangling #she saw some food and got distracted #zhongli x reader #xiao x reader #genshin impact x reader #childe x reader #zhongli #childe #genshin impact #//writing #//zhongli #//xiao #//childe #//1.5k event #xiao

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nationalharryleague · 3 years

Text

In the Long Green Grass

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Genre: the fluffiest fluff with husband!harry

Word count: 2K

A/N: Hi everyone!! Merry Christmas to all that celebrate!! this is my Secret Santa (run and organized by the lovely lu (@meetmymouth) gift to the sweetest angel who walks among us miss hasibi (@peachybloomss)!!! I hope you enjoy it my love!!! More of my writing can be found in my masterlist and I would love to hear what everyone thinks in my ask! Thank you so much for reading!!

***

You were stirred by the sounds of the waves crashing against the cliff outside the home as the early morning sun streamed in through the windows. A small huf and whine left your lips, always one to ask for just five more minutes in bed, before you climbed from underneath the warm plush blankets and your toes hit the icy and worn wood floors beneath you.

The buttery yellow sunlight thwarted your plans to fight yourself back to sleep for those last few moments, prompting you to reach out your arms in a longing stretch. You released a light and sleepy hum of surprise when your arm hit a tiny furry body, and not the arm of the man who loved to sleep late in the bed beside you. Peeping one eye open, you made eye contact with Piper, Harry’s small jet black cat with glowing green eyes who was laying next to you, curled up on sheets that still held the indent of his body in them.

Piper wore a face of annoyance, obviously blaming you for interrupting her precious beauty sleep, and her eyes followed your body as you forced yourself out of the bed with one goal: find Harry.

Harry had a habit of disappearing, especially in a new place where there was just so much to explore. He was a wanderer (and an aquarius); always on the move, carried along by a thought or idea he just couldn’t resist. It was hard for him to sit still, a trait he probably picked up after tour after tour after tour, never allowing himself the luxury of rest or relaxation after it was never allowed to him. That was why you had insisted he needed time away from the city, finding a perfect spot in a small cottage that sat on the edge of a cliff along the ocean with a back garden full of sweet smelling flowers and tall cushony grass.

You tiptoed carefully down the spiral staircase that lovingly let out groans underfoot, still rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, into a kitchen that looked straight out of a fairytale. It was small with moss green cabinets and large bay windows that filled the space with light that kept the seemingly hundreds of plants in the house happy and thriving. A cool ocean breeze came in through the open windows of the small breakfast nook, bringing along the scent of a fresh pot of coffee that sat on the butcher block countertops like it had been waiting for you to wake all along. While you felt a jump of excitement within you for the coffee, it still hadn’t been what (or who) you were looking for, even though you were very glad you found it.

A sweet cup of coffee was thoughtfully prepared in a tea cup you had found in the cabinet with small wisteria flowers painted around it’s rim. You knew Harry would poke fun at your cup choice if he were there. “Tea cups are for tea,” you could hear him say, perking up the edges of your mouth into a gentle smile as you sipped it carefully. But the flowers reminded you of the beautiful wisteria tree that flowed in the wind and scattered it’s petals all over the back garden; you just couldn’t pass it up.

It took you quite a while to find him, even with the new found caffeinated energy running through your system. You had run into the two other cats at the house, both rather chubby tabbys named Jack and Gus, that called this back garden home on your search and you obviously had to say good morning. The two rubbed themselves up against your legs, begging for a scratch behind the ear and a bit of attention, and you obliged. Who were you to deny them of it?

The garden the cats got to call home was a dream. It was filled with every variety of colorful flower imaginable and blanketed in a sweet air that always hovered over the space. Your favorites were the small peachy blooms that smelled of sugary perfume. A stone fence ran the perimeter of the yard, a white picket fence in the middle opening to a swath of overgrown grass that swayed in the wind on a hill. If you squinted, you could see the house of the couple you were renting the cottage from, but they were far enough away it felt like you were the only people around for miles.

When you spotted a Harry-shaped hole in the tall grass up the hill, you had a sneaking suspicion you had found your missing husband.

The tall grass squished beneath your feet as you climbed the hill, creating a soft padding below, and the long blades tickled against your bare legs as you made your way towards him, still only dressed in one of his perfectly worn t-shirts from the night before.

“There you are,” you hummed happily when you reached him, standing above him as he layed in the grass. “I thought that I lost you.”

He looked like a renaissance painting as he laid in the grass that was dotted with small pink and purple wildflowers. His curls had gotten a little longer during his much needed break and they splayed out around his head in delicate ringlets like a halo. The light from the still rising sun bounced off his slightly dewy skin, giving him a glow that lit him up even more than usual. Stubble danced across his cheeks and jaw, framing his perfectly pink lips that held a gentle smile as he looked up at you from the ground. And his eyes squinted slightly, shielding his pupils from the ever growing brightness of the sky, creating delicate little wrinkles around his sea glass green eyes that looked so vibrant in the light.

A worn book that you hadn’t seen before, bound in dark green leather with gold detailing, sat on his chest; Poems for Lovers: A Collection was embossed delicately across the cover.

“You’ll never lose me,” he mumbled up at you, a gravel in his voice like it was the first time he had used it that day. You had been married for almost two years and had been together for five, but your cheeks never failed to redden when he spoke sweet nothings like that. “Good morning, angel,” he said softly, reaching his hand up for yours.

You moved to place your hand in his, but ended up only linking your pinkies together in the process; a light tug from the man below you signaled for you to join him on the ground. You couldn’t resist, sitting yourself down with your legs crossed in front of you on the slightly damp ground next to him, pinkies still locked together.

“Morning,” you greeted. “I missed you in bed. Piper isn’t much of a cuddler,” you chuckled while absentmindedly playing with his fingers, twirling his wedding band.

“She’s not very nice, is she?” he smiled, opening his eyes fully to meet yours as you strategically moved your body to block his delicate eyes from the sun. “I’m sorry my cat’s a bitch,” he joked. “She still thinks she’s my number one girl.”

“I tell her I’m sorry that I stole her spot in bed all the time, she never listens. Won’t even have a civil chat with me about it,” you teased sarcastically.

Harry let out an enthusiastic giggle at your words; it was high pitched, and came from his belly in loud bursts of air. His cheeks scrunched up and forced his eyes closed because he was smiling so wide, crinkling the corners of his eyes once again. His laughter was infectious and you couldn’t help but join in.

You two must have looked insane, sitting in the grass in a field in the middle of nowhere just after dawn, laughing like idiots. But you wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. Well, a few more hours of sleep wouldn’t have hurt.

As your gigges died down, you turned your attention to the book resting on his chest. “You ditched me in bed for a book?” you teased, letting the remaining laughter escape your body.

“I couldn’t sleep and I found it on one of the bookshelves. I thought it would be nice to read in the grass and watch the sun come up.”

“You should have woken me up. I could have thought of a few things we could have done to tire you out.” A smirk played on your lips as you tapped your chin, pretending to think, as you watched his eyes grow in amusement from your innuendo.

“You looked too peaceful sleeping. Also, drool and bedhead don’t really turn me on if I’m being honest.” It was your turn to react to his teasing.

Your jaw dropped in feigned offence and your finger flew over your shoulder to point back at the cottage. “I can go back if you’d like your privacy,” you said incredulously and with dramatics, until a few chuckles broke through and your resolve softened once again.

“Oh no no no,” he spoke with a grin, “come here,” moving the book and tapping his chest for you to rest your head on. You turned yourself around to lay yourself on the ground, placing your head on his chest and listening to his steady and calming heartbeat.

“How are your poems?” you asked, referencing the book he was now holding in his hands.

“They are very good. I’m glad I found it.” His voice reverberated under your head as he spoke, and you rose and fell softly with his breath.

“Read me your favorite.”

“Okay,” he began, thumbing through the pages as he held the book above both your heads. You listened as he let out a small “ah, here it is,” before he dramatically cleared his throat. “You might remember me talking about this one already, but I love it.”

You knew he loved it before he even began reading anything. He loved his poetry, especially when they were about love. Harry was a hopeless romantic at heart, often saying to you and interviewers “I just love love.” He loved falling in love with you and becoming a team, just as much as you did with him.

“It’s called The Wait,” he spoke gently, his voice taking on a deeper and more enunciated quality. You recognized the poem immediately, as it was the one referenced on his pants for the Vogue cover shoot. He had dedicated it to you then, and was doing it again now in the grass. “It seemed like years before I picked a bouquet of kisses off her mouth and put them into a dawn-colored vase in my heart,” he began. He spoke slowly and smoothly with the consistency and sweetness of honey. “But the wait was worth it,” he continued. “Because I was in love.”

You couldn’t help but think of your own story as he read. He had chased after you for years, with you always insisting that he was your best friend and you were afraid to ruin that. But gradually, your best friend became your lover, and your lover became your husband.

“I like that one a lot too.” You spoke softly and with reflection. “It reminds me of us.”

“That’s why it’s my favorite.”

You two layed in the grass for hours, not a care in the world, as he read from the book. Every poem took you two on a journey into a love story, one that for the two of you only existed on the page, but told of a very real love that couldn’t have been dishonestly written.

But with how you felt in the moment, with the joy and loving warmth you felt in your belly, you were sure you could write a million poems about the love you had with him.

Thank you so much for reading!! Reblogs/feedback mean the world!!!

#I hope you like it honey!!!!#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #Harry styles Drabble #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #one direction fanfic #one direction #meetmygift2020 #my writing #harryandhockey

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a-simple-imagine · 3 years

Text

A little bit of Devil In Her Angel Eyes

Synopsis: Your entire life changed when you met Sharon Carter in Mandripoor but one bad deal and everything comes crashing down.

Pairing: Sharon Carter x reader

Words: 3.2k

A/N - This is my first story after like a five month slump so please go easy on me. I hope its okay!! I also just reached 1.7k so thanks for that.

Warnings - swearing, mentions of blood and fighting, mentions of illegal activities.

You never lacked interest or empathy, but you'd always felt bored throughout your life. There was little excitement amongst the mundane everyday tasks. You didn't have some grand ambition to work towards; no dream job and no innate desire to settle down and have a family. You were navigating life with no direction. Never feeling like you belonged anywhere. You didn't necessarily see this as a problem but there were moments, late at night, that had you wishing for something more out of life. You just weren't quite sure what that was... until you met her.

A chance encounter in the vibrant neon lights of a dingy bar located in lowtown; a crime-ridden, impoverished district located in Mandripoor. It is the ultimate abyss of vice and degradation, where nothing was sacred and no act profane. A beautiful young woman, who so strongly contrasted her surrounding, sat at the bar sipping on a martini glass. Such a rare sight down here, it was like coming across a mythical creature. Unexpected, strange but oh so magical. One night with the woman was enough to set your senses ablaze. One night turned to two... then three... and so forth. She was the first person to ever made you feel alive; she made you feel like was worth living. It was a rollercoaster of a relationship and you never wanted to get off. And they looked to you with a look of pure admiration. She fed you sugar-coated words and tender smiles that had you on your hands and knees. You would do anything to experience the warmth of her smile or the vibrancy of her melodic laugh. And god was she the most beautiful woman you had ever laid your eyes on. An angel cast in the ethereal glow of the moon. Utterly smitten and unafraid to show it. She was softener than appearance may appear. Not always the best at expressing her feelings, you liked to think that it was evident in the little things she did. Like the cup of chamomile tea, she always offered you before bed. Or the way she always had to be touching you in some way before she could fall asleep beside you. It was clear in her overprotective nature. The way she was willing to break someone's arm just for looking at you funny. She was willing to go to war for you. The relationship worked because you were both getting high on affection; drowning in each other. However, there was a much darker side to one Miss Sharon Carter. A lot of late nights you were left wondering if she would return. She threw extravagant parties that seem innocent enough until she's sneaking off behind closed doors with shady characters. Was there ever a moment she wasn't looking over her shoulder? Rollercoasters go up and up only to fall from grace at high-velocity speeds. A smarter person may have turned and run but you never claimed to ever do what was best for yourself. You were in much too deep. Sharon Carter was a former hero turned double agent who is now one of the underworld leaders of the lawless island nation of Madripoor. Her main area of interest was selling superpowers to the highest bidder; seems there is quite the market for black market super-soldier serum. Sharon also dabbled in acquiring exquisite art pieces through less than honourable measures in order to sell. She wasn't above petty crimes and illegal substances. Quite the reputation did the woman you had found yourself utterly infatuated with. It actually made a lot of sense. And if you were being honest with yourself, you valued your relationship over any morals you may have possessed. In fact, you were actually impressed if not a little intimidated by her. The option to leave was always right there but instead, you found yourself helping her out wherever she saw fit. Why? Because there was no one you cared for more in this world than Sharon Carter.

Bright red lights had been flashing in warning since the beginning of the deal. You had been through a lot together and had watched as Sharon dealt with all kinds of messed up scenarios. You even had helped her commit atrocities but her success had begun to cloud her judgement. Blind to the inevitable. Every time you attempted to voice your concern, she brushed you aside with sweet whispers of reassurance followed by a quick peck on the cheek. Sharon could be so stubborn it was infuriating; she lived with the idea that she always knew best. That she was basically untouchable. A god. It was an attractive trait that had you weak in the knees but it also led to stupid decisions. Everything will be okay. All concern pushed to the side, you chose to believe her.

As the clock struck one, you waited patiently for your girlfriend to return. A pit deep in your stomach that kept you from even considering going to bed before she arrived home. A cold cup of tea sat on the kitchen table as you numbed your mind with the bright screen of an iPhone. The click of the front door made your ears perk up, a smile settling on your lips. Thank god she was finally home, you weren't sure you could handle it much longer. Calling out for her, you receive no response but footsteps echo through the house. Not just one though. Did she have company over? It wouldn't be the first time she turned up late with some associates on her tail. Normally you wouldn't mind but you would have at least appreciated the heads up.

"What-" Words come to an abrupt end as a gloved hand slaps over your mouth. Chair crashes to the floor, phone slams against the table as you're dragged out of your seat. Struggling against a tight grip, they drag you across the room where you notice two shadows lurking on the sidelines waiting to pounce. A punch to the stomach so beautifully engraved with your girlfriend's name has you pushing against the arms that thankfully let go; flinging you to the ground. A black toed boot slams into your stomach followed by a barrage of varying blows. As your vision begins to fade, you're reminded of the last question regarding her predicament. It had been over a very early breakfast staged before a rising sun.

"You're up early." Your girlfriend hums in your ear as arms snake around your shoulders; sleep evident in her voice.

"Couldn't sleep," A purple mug brought to your lips, you take a small sip. "I was thinking-

"How many times do we have to go over this?" Sharon interrupts. "Everything is going to be just fine- I have it handled."

You had heard that many times but it was less convincing every time it left her lips. It left a bad taste behind. As strong as she may have convinced everyone she was, this was turning into the story of Icarus and she was getting far too close to the sun.

"Do you?" Your question is quiet, unsure of how she'll take it. "because this is getting to be a little too much."

"You trust me right?" It always came down to trust. It was the end to this conversation almost every time; basically her personal way of getting you to shut up. You didn't dare express that you didn't have complete and utter faith in her.

"I do." You nod a little.

"Then trust me when I say it's all gonna work out," Voice but a whisper that tickled your ear before she plants a kiss against your shoulder. "I'm gonna make a fresh pot of coffee."

Perhaps it was naïve to think this would never happen but it had simply never occurred to you that they would target you. But of course, they would, you were a part of her life. Sharon was the big bad and who better to target than you. Someone not trained by SHIELD or the CIA. It was an easier message to send. When you finally stir awake, you find yourself staring into familiar dark brown eyes; their flicks of gold a comforting sign. You had never felt pain quite like this before in your entire life. Somehow it felt like your entire body was actively on fire while also being completely numb. You couldn't feel anything other than the pain coursing through your veins at this moment. But at least you were alive. And Sharon was okay.

"Thank god," She spoke softly.

"...h...ey." The words burn your throat as you stumble through such a simple word. Coughing a few times to try and help but it just aggravated your chest. "You're... okay."

"So are you," Sharon leans forward, her lips brushing against your forehead. "Do- Do you think you can walk?" There was urgency behind her tone and the blonde didn't even wait for an answer before she was trying to usher you to your feet. A loud groan slips through clenched teeth. It was a symphony of agony but the feeling was sharpest deep in your chest. Nausea sets in your stomach. a rich throbbing in your head made worse as you shook your head. Sharon took the hint and stopped. "...We can't stay here." You knew that. It wasn't safe here anymore. Everything just felt like too much though. Your body was in torment. You felt like dinner was about to make a reappearance at any moment. And your chest felt worse with every breathe you took. After a moment, the other tries again. Supporting you as she pulls you to your feet; the majority of the work was on her part. With an arm around her shoulders, the two of you moved very slowly towards a car.

"Where... are we... going?" You understood the need to leave but where would you even go? A strong chill rode the late night wind. It was nice out. peaceful. Slumped against the passenger seat, Sharon reached over to click in the seatbelt before shutting the door and getting in the other side. It was proving difficult to stay focused on anything. Your head felt heavy on your shoulders and a sort of cloudiness settled over you. A big sigh on her end. With a tight grip on the steering wheel, Sharon just stared ahead. Was she okay? Watching her for a moment, you lay your hand atop her thigh which seemingly brought her back to reality. Turning to you, she flashes a smile then starts the car. It sputters but comes to life. Nothing was shared as you move along quiet roads. It's always a little weird to see the roads so empty but that quickly changes as you cross over into lowtown. You kind of fade in and out but never entirely. It's rather like overwhelming drowsiness. The car comes to a stop outside an unfamiliar run-down building. A strange choice all things considered. However, it's not so bad once you step inside. The room floods with light revealing a relatively small space covered in an untouched layer of dust. An ugly brown coach sat next to a small old TV. A little dining table sat in the corner. Limping over the threshold, she lowers you to the cold laminated ground. With a little whine of help, you try to reach for her as she begins to walk away but it would take more strength than you have. A quiet exhale as your eyes flutter closed. "Try and stay awake," Her voice drags you back to reality in time to watch her disappear into another room. "Just for a little while." Left alone it takes everything in you not to fall back against the floor. On returning, Sharon takes up space right behind you. You assume she is checking you over as her hand graces the back of your head. Humming ever so softly to herself before slipping over your shoulders and pulling you flush against her. A low groan slips painfully from your throat. Finding a sense of comfort from being in her arms. Despite everything that happened, she still made you feel... unbelievable safe. The two of you just sit there together for a moment, feeling her chest rise and fall. It's hard to miss the blood now smudged across the floor. Things were really bad. "Let's get you cleaned up, okay? A quick shower and then you can go to bed."

You would have preferred to just go to bed but still, you nod against her. You were much too out of it to be making any sort of decisions right now. A disapproving hum as she releases you from her grip. You weren't quite ready for the moment to end. Once again, Sharon helps you to your feet but it's easier this time now that you know exactly what to expect. It still hurt desperately, it was just no longer a surprise when it happened. Stumbling towards the shoebox of a bathroom, the blonde woman turns the nob and water erupts from the showerhead on the wall. Every few seconds she would ask if you're still okay as she very carefully removes your clothes. Brown eyes drifting over every inch of your body and back up; her brow furrowing. Meeting your eyes, she reaches over to place her fingertips against your torso. Applying a little pressure, you grunt loudly stepping away. "Did that hurt?"

"Mhmm,"

Her head tilts a little. "It looks like you have a broken rib but can't know for sure."

Standing before her, you notice a large slash across her left cheek; dried blood leading from the wound. She also had a busted lip and a gash on her eyebrow. Some kind of altercation had clearly taken place. Sharon removed her clothes and was quick to step under the heavy flow of water. Holding out her hand for you to take, she leads you under the water. The heat feels surprisingly nice against your skin. Your eyes meet and then your lips connect in a kiss. The faint taste of copper lingers on her lips but it's washed away with the blood, sweat, and tears of the day. It's forceful and passionate; dripping with emotions. She may have been the reason this happened but you were still grateful she was here right now. "This shouldn't have happened," Sharon whispers softly against your lips. "I... I should have been there." The woman pulls you closer like she had completely forgotten that you were attacked by three people earlier that day. Her skin is colder than expected strongly contrasting the steaming water.

"You didn't know." You mumble into her shoulder. Sharon doesn't answer. Merely lifts your head so you were facing each other and places a sympathetic hand upon your cheek. Savouring the tenderness of the moment is enough to bring your emotions bubbling to the surface. As much as the two of you lived the high life, it took its own toll. This life was hard. And despite never wanting it before, you sometimes wished you lived a much more mundane life but with Sharon beside you. Your brows furrow as your lip trembles. You place your hand over hers and a few tears start to fall. "...I'm scared." There were few moments you found yourself admitting to such a thing but you'd never been attacked before. Not like this. Not because of someone else.

"I know." She replies after a moment. "I am too. I'm really fucking sorry." Leaning in again, Sharon surprises you with another kiss. It's sloppier this time. Rougher. Like she's trying to prove how sorry she is. It becomes a peppering of kisses placed carelessly across your face. You smile a little, a soft little laugh that causes you to cough. "You know I love you right?" You nod a little against her and she backs up a little. Both hands against your cheeks, she meets your gaze. "I love you so much and I am going to fix this. I will protect you."

Oh how you would like to believe those words to be true but it was a promise she could not make. It was a promise she had made many times before and look what happened today? Sharon was in the wrong business to guarantee safety. But still, you wrap your arms around her, enveloping her in a cautious hug. Letting your head fall against her shoulder. You could not possibly be more in love with this woman if you tried. You knew she would do everything in her power to keep you safe. A few minutes pass as you simply let the waterfall over you and then you actually wash up and get out. Cast in the warm glow of the bedside lamp, you're sat in the middle of a double bed with Sharon sat directly across from you. This time you allow the woman to tend to your injuries properly, dapping the back of your head with a damp cloth. "Do you think we'll be okay?"

"I do." Sharon responds sharply. "don't you?"

She drops the cloth that was now stained with spots of red to the bed. You raise your shoulders in a little shrug. Sharon was a very capable woman but it was hard not to be a little worried about the whole thing. "I don't know... I don't... exactly feel great."

"You just need to rest."

"yeah maybe," A solemn sigh slips into the air. You sit in silence as Sharon finishes up contemplating what was to come. Had this just been an attempt to scare you? Would this happen again in the future? How was Sharon even going to fix this? When she goes to close the first aid box, you stop her. Taking the lead, it was your turn to look after her and tend to her wounds. You take some cotton wool and soak it in rubbing alcohol before gently dabbing at her wounds. She doesn't quite flinch but her body tenses upon first contact suggesting it stung just a little. "I'm really sorry this happened,"

"It's fine, you should see the other guy. Besides, you look worse than I do," An attempt at humour but it doesn't land dampening your girlfriend's spirit just a little.

"I'm sorry I made you worry." Dropping the wool, you trade it for some closure strips. "I'm sorry I'm so... useless. I was caught off guard."

"You're not useless," Sharon assures you as you place one strip after the other across the injury to her cheek. "You don't have anything to apologise for. This is my fault."

You want to argue but it's too much for right now wanting nothing more than to climb under the sheets and sleep for the next week at least. "Let's just go to bed." Collecting all the items scattered across the duvet, Sharon dispossesses of the blood-soaked clothe and cotton wool before placing the bright green box on the dresser. Lingering there for a moment, you can tell something off. "You'll stay with me, right?" Turning on her heel, Sharon slides under the covers beside you. You shared a bed often but she was never one to cuddle. Tonight though, she was closer than normal. Her hand rests gently on your waist and regardless of the pain, it doesn't take long for you to drift off to sleep.

#sharon carter x reader #sharon carter #the falcon and the winter soldier #Emily VanCamp

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devildom-dedicated-daydreams · 3 years

Text

Imagine a Medieval AU where Mammon is an orphaned petty thief...

and you’re a single aristocrat who catches him stealing your gold coins. But as you prepared to give punishment, you see his eyes full of defiance. Amused, you take him under your wing. You don’t have a spouse or a kid, so you teach him to become your successor.

“You can stay here and die like a dog, or you can come with me and live.”

Through the years spent together, you become comfortable with each other as benefactor and beneficiary. Then you become friends.

And then you begin to notice the small things...

You find him looking at you when he thinks you’re unaware. He doesn’t eat unless you’re there with him, and he doesn’t listen to anyone but you.

“Is there something you want to talk about, Mammon?”

“What?”

“You’ve been staring at me for the past five minutes.”

“Wha--I was not! Who’d stare at you?”

You pretend not to know because you think it’s just a crush that’s going to fade with age.

But it doesn’t.

And then, one night, everything just changes.

Mammon is introduced into high society as your heir, but one thing leads to another and he’s no longer that petty thief you found on the streets.

He was the missing prince of the country and now its soon-to-be king.

Mammon doesn’t want to leave, and a part of you doesn’t him to go, but you think of this kingdom, and you tell him to pack up.

“Why are you pushing me away?”

“I’m helping you do the right thing.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Mammon--”

“They don’t even know if I’m actually the prince. Why are you forcing me out?”

“...”

“Oh, I get it. Your little project to create the perfect heir got ruined and you want me out so you can find a better replacement, is that it?”

You part ways. He leaves in the gaudy carriage the royal palace sent him.

You don’t talk. (Well, you tried during his coronation. But he ignored your congratulations and flirted with the country’s noble ladies.)

You don’t write letters.

You don’t tell him how much you miss him...

But one lazy Sunday afternoon, the same gaudy carriage wheels into your property.

Mammon steps out and you greet him politely, as one would regard any king. You invite him inside for tea and he just nods. A thick, invisible wall separated your hearts.

You spend the first thirty minutes together in pregnant silence. The tea is now cold and the sandwiches are soggy.

But then, he finally speaks up, and in a voice that’s not too loud or too soft, he says, "They want me to take in the neighboring country’s princess.”

It’s no secret that the royal advisers are already begging him to marry for political reasons.

"So I've heard,” you answer like an outsider.

"I don't want to though."

"... I know."

"But I have to, and you agree."

You’re quiet for a moment, letting his words hang in the air before replying, “I do."

He gives you a wry smile. Then he spins around and looks out the balcony, strings of sunlight outline his figure. He has grown so much from the boy you caught stealing gold in the streets.

Mammon then speaks: "I live in a palace made of marble."

"I'm well aware."

"Solid marble, and it's decorated with all these fancy paintings, and the curtains covering the windows are supposed to be super expensive—"

"Your Highness, I—"

"—quiet, your king is talking." His tone is playful and you roll your eyes with equal lightheartedness.

"The palace is big and it's full of suck-ups who will lick my boots if I ask them to. Can you believe how ridiculous it sounds? I used to fight for scraps of stale bread but now I get to eat a whole turkey and no one gets to stop me.” He shakes his head.

“I still remember those days... if I wanted a place to rest I’d have to find a customer and my bed always changed, but now I have my own bed with clean sheets that smell like lavender." His gaze is directed far away. "I live in a palace made of marble, and I thought I'd be happy. But I’m not.”

He turns to face you. There is no haughtiness in his expression, only a tiny, tired smile.

“I miss you,” he says, voice cracking. “I miss you so much that I can't even taste the turkey they prepare just for me, I can't sleep in my own bed because it's too big and too cold and too soft and ... you're not there to wish me 'good night.'”

He takes a step towards you. “I can't bring myself to be thankful for my marble palace because it means giving up what I have with you."

"Your Highness—"

"Let's run away."

"What?"

"Let's run away. I'll snatch as many gold coins as I can and we can run away together, like they do in those books love so much."

"If you do that, people will revolt."

"I love you. I want to be with you, more than I've ever wanted to live in a palace made of marble."

"Mammon—"

"I want to grow old with you, I want to see you with wrinkles and grey hair."

"Mammon!"

"Don't!"

His voice pierces the air and you’re left with silence.

After a moment, breaks it again, "Don't stand there looking at me like you don't want to do this, because I know you, and I know you want me, too."

You look into his eyes, his beautiful eyes that are clear and honest and filled with nothing but love, and you lean in to kiss him.

He tastes so good and sweet and you don’t ever want to come up for air. But you have to, and when you do, you brush your hand over his cheek.

“I want those things, believe me, I do. But I look at you and I see a good man, a man who cares more than he lets others see, a good man who steals bread so he can give them to the little boys and girls in the orphanage that is barely standing. I see a good man who can be a good king.”

“You--”

“I want to stay by your side as your spouse, Mammon, but if I do that this country will be burned to the ground without the protection of its neighbor.” You pull back your hand. “I won’t make you choose between me and all the little boys and girls that need you...”

He whispers your name.

You push him away.

“Goodbye, Mammon.”

#Obey Me #Shall We Date #Mammon #Royalty AU #Medieval AU #Mammon x MC #Mammon x Reader #Angst #I feel an ulcer coming #When will this pandemic end

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softcallofdutyimagines · 3 years

Note

Can I get some Naga slight angst/fluff? Maybe an enemy group took the s/o and Naga has to negotiate getting them back (like $12 million) and daddy gets them back because “$12 million is a cheap price to get you back” idk I’m in love with how you write for the cod operators ❤️

Need this 😌💖💖💖💖 I turned it into a whole little fic, so I hope that's ok! This got pretty heavy, ngl, but I think it turned out sweet, so I hope you enjoy!!

Reader Pronouns: she/her

Warning: strong language and some pretty disrespectful language towards women, including implied physical violence if you squint, so be careful while reading guys!!!

Naga clears the trinkets and fine antiques off his desk with a full sweep of rage. A vase shatters and a small, crystal idol chips, but all he sees is short, typed ransom note before him.

A rival gang managed to snatch you up in the streets not two days ago. He's been worried sick ever since you didn't come home that evening, and even now it hasn't abated by much. No, instead an anger just as intense as the worry and fear rises to join the others. His entire being trembles almost imperceptibly as he reads the details of the letter.

They want 100 billion kip in gold. He has three days to bring it to the drop point in exchange for you. No guns or weapons on him or his men.

He slams a fist on the desk and collapses his head into his hands. Naga clenches a fistful of hair in one hand and swipes the note out of his sight with the other. He weighs his options only to realize...

Well, he doesn't really have any, does he?

He's very familiar with this group. They're ruthless cutthroats and, if he's being honest, he wouldn't out it past them to have killed you already and be stringing him along right now. In fact, as much we it makes him sick to say so, he almost hopes they've killed you.

It would be a much better fate then what they usually do to their victims.

Even three days is far too long to be in their captivity. God, just the thought of their hands on you... He shrieks in rage, wishing there was something else in his vacinity that he could destroy. But he knows that wouldn't help.

No, the only thing that would help him right now is having you back.

Kapano calla in his right hand man and throws the crumpled up letter to him. "Get the money", he growls.

The other man opens up the paper and reads the sum. His eyes go wide and before he can even suggest that he might protest this plan, a stiletto knife buries itself in the wood beside his head.

"I said get the fucking money!", he screams, eyes wide, teeth bared, and every muscle within him bristling. The second in command bows his head quickly and dashes off before something far worse is thrown his way.

Naga swears and applies some pressure to his forehead. It feels like his skull is about to split.

He spares a glance outside, then trudges to his room. Your, room. The sun hangs low in the sky and he has yet even more to do tomorrow. One piece at a time, he sheds his combat attire, nursing a headache all the while.

On a normal night, you offer to help him out of all the buckles and straps, and oh what he'd give to take you up on that offer now. At last he unclasps his jewelry down to one final necklace. This is a recent one, a locket you gave him with a tiny picture of the two of you inside. He loved it so much, he's since had it encrusted with a ruby heart and wears it daily.

At the memory of you, suddenly he feels unable to part with it, not even for just a night's sleep. He takes it off reverently and clasps it tightly in his hand. Poping open the little door, he fixates on your lovely face as he trudges to bed.

Naga crawls into his side, distracted for a long moment by the perfectly undisturbed second half of the bed. He knows how much you hate a cold bed. On any other night he'd lay in your spot for you until you join him, just to warm up the sheets for you.

He places the locket on your pillow, a shakiness starting to overtake him as he wonders if he'll ever have the chance to warm your sheets and share a bed with you again. At last he lays his head down, and yet he's unable to take his eyes off your half.

Even still, your pillow smells like oils and creams he bought you for your hair. He suspends his hand just over the pillow a moment, thinking of you. And when he lets it drop, he can't tell if it's the cause or the result of the tears flowing from him.

He can't fucking stand it anymore.

Kapano pulls your pillow close to him, holding it tight as he would you. At least tonight he'll have the comforting scent of you as he suffers another fitful night.

The following days up to the trade are slow and painful. Every night is worse then the last as he consumes himself with the stress and worry surrounding you.

He can't get to the drop point fast enough. In compliance with the ransom note, he and his men are unarmed. So they wait. And wait. And wait....

And just as he's ready to pull his hair out, a truck slowly rolls up the abandoned dirt road.

A small squad of men hop out and approach Naga and his gang. Then, bringing up the rear, the boss shoves you along, a gun pressed snug against your head.

"What the fuck is this? You said no guns!"

The rival boss spits, as though Naga's mere presence leaves a foul taste in his mouth. "What? You think I don't know about them?", he nods his head up.

Far, far in the branches, hidden from view at this angle, more of Naga's men wait in the tree canopy, armed and ready for any sign of foul play.

Damn it.

Naga glances over at you. You're looking pale and rather bruised and beaten. A far cry from the carefree, sun kissed goddess he usually knows.

"Alright, there's the fucking money, now give her to me!"

The other man clicks his tongue and presses his pistol against your temple, "Wait until we're loaded up first, then you can have your precious whore back"

Naga seethes at that, but is afraid to make a sudden movement last he lose you for good. And the rival boss notices. He smirks, a gratingly patronizing tone to his voice "Oh, I'm sorry? Did I insult your little harlot? We both know that's all she is...", He leans in far to close and licks your neck slowly, teasingly, before nipping your earlobe, "Isn't that right, bitch?"

This has gone on long enough. Naga's body quivers with boiling rage as his temper shoots through the ceiling. He shouts a command in his native tongue and a hail of bullets rain down on the opposing gang, the first several of which bury themselves in the man holding you hostage.

Behind him, Naga's men on the ground unsheathe small throwing knives and daggers, taking advantage of the surprise gunfire to press the attack.

But, at the death of their leader, the remaining crew scatters like flies and before long, all is quiet.

Kapano rushes forward to pick you up off the ground. He kneels down and cradles you in his arms as he removes your blindfold and cuts your hands free. Your tears carve small rivers through the dried blood running down your cheeks. You try to speak, but all that you can manage is a choked gasp.

He's never seen you like this before. And he never wants to again.

Naga shushes you, holding you against his chest while he strokes your hair. "Shhh, he's never going to touch you again. I promise", he kisses your forehead and helps you slowly to your feet, "Now let's get you out of here baby"

You don't say a word the whole ride back, but Naga holds your hand and rubs your back all the while. When you get home, he sets up a bath for you with all the salts and fragrances he knows you love. He offers you some help, but you say you'd like some time alone.

Somewhat reluctantly, he respects your wishes and sets off to make a meal and some tea for you both. It's all set up on the mat and pillows adorning the main hall. You look lovely as ever in your silk pajamas and lacy robe when you join him after your bath.

Slowly, you find your voice to speak, but it feels as though your mere presence is enough to earn you the praise Naga is showering you in. He's so focused on you, he nearly forgets to eat.

Once you're all finished, he decides to leave the dishes for later, and instead he pulls you onto his chest as you both recline into the fortress of pillows supporting you. Naga nuzzles your hair and kisses your temple.

You smell like jasmine and fresh citrus, infinitely better then the stench of stale sweat and musk of other men that he received you in.

He kisses your face gently, rubbing some warmth into your shoulders. You enjoy the quiet, but a small sniffing sound interrupts you.

"...Kapano?"

He sniffs again, wiping his eyes with his free hand. "Sorry, I just... God, I-I thought I'd never see you again", tears stream down cheeks, he rests his forehead against the side of yours.

You sigh, wishing you could just forget it all, "I know how you feel"

At that he tenses, and a quiet growl escapes your little tiger, "It'll never happen again, I swear it. I wish I could've pulled the trigger on the bastard myself... He deserved worse then what he got. Far worse"

You press a kiss to the broad tip of his nose and smile softly, "I love you, little dragon"

For the first time since he lost you, all those days ago, he smiles. He's not a big fan of when you first gave him that nickname. He hates to be described as "little", it's not very intimidating. But... Suddenly, it sounds quite endearing.

He kisses your perfumed lips, stroking a thumb over your battered cheek. "I know", he smiles. That night, you sleep out amongst the pillows, right where you are.

Tomorrow night, he'll be looking forward to warming up your side of the bed for you.

#black ops cold war #call of duty #kapano vang x reader #kapano naga vang #naga x reader

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obeymebabes · 3 years

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Heavenly Surprise (Simeon x MC)

Warnings: None, that would be sinful.

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE PRETTIEST ANGEL IN THE REALMS, SIMEON! I always overlook this boy. He is such a great character, and so ungodly beautiful. I am so happy that I get to finally write birthday fics for the side babes.

Summary: After gifting Simeon with matching teacups, you both decide to indulge in some Celestial Realm grade tea, but Simeon forgot to mention the unexpected effect it has on humans.

The night was still young, and you had finally had some free time with the man of the hour. Simeon was delighted that you were able to join him and for a brief period of time, both of you were able to enjoy each other’s company alone, and to yourselves. There were no brothers to pester you, no small little Luke begging for your attention, not even the sight of a shady wizard who always seems to be there when you least expect it. No, instead, it was simply just the two of you together. An angel and his favorite human.

Like Barbatos, Simeon had a thing for tea. The special drink had a place in his heart. That being noted, you had wanted to give him the only thing that you knew would be suitable. Matching teacups. It was a gift to prove to him that you were paying close attention, as well as a way to send a message of wanting to have more times like this, where you were able to be with him free of the other pests.

Upon opening the carefully wrapped gifts, he was captivated by the elegance of the designs. A regal looking white cup, traced with gold around the edges with carefully placed Celestial Realm blue swirls for an added decoration. He marveled at the designs, taking a moment to inspect every detail that was carefully placed upon the shiny piece of ceramic. Upon his investigation of the cups, he noticed that both of your names were carefully inscribed into the bottoms. The lettering was delicate, clearly the maker had taken his time with such craftsmanship. Simeon couldn’t help but beam such a bright smile in your direction.

“My my, these are exquisite. I cannot believe such a stunning pair of teacups exists.” His gentle gleaming eyes found yours, setting the cups gently on a nearby table.

“I love them. Thank you. Is there any chance you would like to relax together now? I just received some Pure Tea from the Celestial Realm and I would be delighted if we could share some together.” His soft eyes pleaded for you to say yes.

You nodded with a warm smile, and it was easy to spot the excitement that was plastered across his face.

While he had gotten everything ready to prepare the tea, you had taken the time to admire the angel in all of his glory. The way his soft brown locks danced around his head when he moved, the stretch of his delicate brown skin when he reached for something, the gleam in his blue-green eyes when he subtly glanced in your direction. He was pure. The purest form of an angel you could lay your eyes on. He was in every way perfect, from head to toe. There wasn’t a single thing that was out of place. Nay a mark of imperfection as far as your eyes could wander.

“Little Lamb, the water is almost ready, may you fetch me the teacups on the table, please?” His compassionate voice gently snapping you out of your gazing trance. Getting up, you carefully brought the new teacups to him, watching as he set a tea bag into each one.

Carefully, he poured the boiling water into each cup, soaking the bag and immediately filling the air around you with a sweet smell. Taking both cups in hand, he moved them to seat you both comfortably next to the warm fire he had lit earlier to keep his room cozy and warm.

“I am pleased that you are here to relax with me. Is it your first time having tea from the Celestial Realm?” He inquired, making small talk as you both waited for your tea to steep, and cool down enough to take a few sips.

“It is. I am excited to get to try it.” You answered, taking a glance at the picture perfect teacups that sat on the small table between you and the angel.

“I am pleased to know that I am the source of a new item for you to try. Celestial Realm tea is sweet and dances across your tastebuds, so there is no need to add sweeteners or any additives to it. But if you do feel as if you want to add to it, please let me know, I won’t be offended.” The angel let out a soft and quiet chuckle, settling back into the chair, watching the burning fire before him.

The crackling fire was the only sound that filled the room. It had radiated such warmth, slowly lulling you into a state of relaxation. There was a sense of serenity. Time felt slow, your eyes beginning to feel heavy. Gently pulling you from the state of bliss you were currently experiencing was the sound of Simeon shifting in his seat.

“I believe your tea should be cool enough to taste. I am eager for you to try it.” His voice was low, seeing that you were in such a relaxed state, he didn’t want to startle you. With a warm smile, you delicately picked up the cup, pressing it to your lips, letting the warm liquid find its way into your mouth.

The flavor was just as he had mentioned, a sweet, comforting flavor that sent a warm shiver down your body. It was as if the drink itself had just hugged you. The taste lingered on your tongue, causing you to take another small sip, closing your eyes and letting out a quiet “mmm”.

“Well?” Simeon interrogated, though with the noticeable happiness that was all over your face, he was able to tell that you enjoyed it.

“Don’t tell Barbatos but this might just be the best tea I have ever had.” You returned a smile, which earned a chuckle from him. “I am pleased to hear that, Little Lamb.”

Minutes passed, the sweet smell of the tea lingering in your nose as you continued to savor the pleasant taste on your tastebuds. But something felt off, there was a mild tingling sensation in the back of your throat, running down to your stomach. It wasn’t unpleasant, but surely not normal. Trying to brush it off, you closed your eyes, letting your other senses do the work for you.

“Simeon?” It was hardly a whisper. You could feel your cheeks heating up at the thought of him. “A-Are you sure that it is okay that I drank the tea? There wasn’t anything else in it, right?” You questioned, looking at him curiously.

His eyes looked at you confused, not understanding what you were getting at. Was there something wrong?

“No-” He paused, his eyes widening a bit as he thought over the effects of the tea. “Oh my, I must apologize. It seems I have forgotten that this tea has a special kind of effect on humans. There is an ingredient that will cause you to be a bit more honest than usual. I am so sorry, I hope that you can forgive me.” The concern in his voice was enough to tell you that he genuinely hadn’t remembered, and that there was no ill intent with his actions.

Panicking at the thought of revealing your secret admiration for him, you stood, quickly gathering your things. Simeon was quick to get up and try to reassure you that everything was okay.

“I am so sorry Simeon but I really think I should be going, I don’t want to say anything that I am going to regret later. I wouldn’t want to offend you or upset you in any way.” The words rushing to leave your mouth.

The angel watched you, confused, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Little Lamb, there is nothing to be afraid of, you can trust me. I promise. What is it that you are so scared to tell me?”

Without the slightest bit of hesitation, your mind reacted, “Simeon I am in love with you.” Gasping at the words that just spewed passed your lips, you quickly covered your mouth, feeling the familiar heat spread across your cheeks from embarrassment. Standing in front of you with a similar flushed and shocked face, was Simeon.

“MC, please, is this true?” His eyes were gentle, passionate. You nodded in response, avoiding his eye contact. The angel couldn’t help but grin, placing a reassuring gloved hand to your cheek, caressing your face tenderly.

“If we are being completely honest here, I admit that I too share such feelings for you. There are countless moments where I wish I could simply slow time to a halt, just to be able to spend forever with you.” Simeon’s eyes searched yours, leaning in softly, waiting to see if you felt that you shared the same spark that he saw between you.

The liquid courage you had coursing through your veins from the tea had led you here, to a moment you had dreamed of for so long. Leaning in to meet him, your eyes had closed, pressing your lips to his, passionately stealing a kiss from him. Pulling away to share a soft smile, you’d never seen him look so content before.

“MC, I have to say, this is quite a heavenly surprise. This may be the best birthday I have had yet, all thanks to you, of course. Please, stay a little longer. I really enjoy your company.” His soft gloved hand held your chin gently, mesmerized by the loving look in your eyes, visibly begging you to stay with him so he didn’t have to remain alone.

“Fine, I will stay, under one condition.” You teased, watching his gentle gaze fall, worried that you’d ask for something unobtainable.

“Hmm?” He hummed, curious.

“I just want to snuggle with you by the fire. It was relaxing earlier, but being close to you will be even better.” A beaming smile was plastered on your face as the angel nodded, taking your hand to lead you back to the spot in front of the flame. He had longed for this. For the gentle touch of his favorite human now wrapped closely in his arms.

While Simeon has had many, many birthdays, nothing can compare to this special night. He will never forget this special moment that you’ve shared together. He could only hope that this wouldn’t be the last.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me!#obey me babes #obey me swd #om! swd #obey me! shall we date?#swd obey me #obey me! fanfic #obey me fanfic #obey me! simeon #shall we date simeon #obey me simeon #simeon x mc #obey me simeon x mc #happy birthday simeon

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costellos · 3 years

Text

a/n: the Crusaders have a very special place in my heart during the holidays. I finished Part 3 around this time last year, and things were a lil rough then. as a result, I wanted to focus on happier things for this year! so without further ado, here are ya fav globe-trotting boys and their fav holiday traditions.

tw: mentions of death and alcohol in Polnareff’s section.

❥ ┋ ❝ stardust crusaders & their favorite holiday traditions to do with you!

joseph joestar.

Joseph’s favorite holiday tradition is putting up Christmas lights.

the eldest Joestar is really obnoxious when it comes to holiday traditions. while he loves them all, he has a particular affinity for decking out his house in elaborate light displays. it brings him a lot of good memories from when Holly and Jotaro were still young.

that said, he has to get you involved in helping him. he pulls out the biggest boxes from storage and drops them at your feet. despite his being a literal millionaire, it feels very... suburban. not that you mind. you knew exactly what you were getting into when it came to Joseph. that childish zeal for everything keeps you on your toes, and while putting up lights may not be the most fun activity in the world, his boisterous laugh makes you think otherwise.

Joseph’s smiling ear-to-ear as you help him, especially when you set up an LED wire reindeer without his help. but nothing will top that toothy grin when you’re standing side-by-side, right in front of the house, and he plugs in the displays.

the house erupts into a flurry of colors ― blues, reds, whites, greens ― too many for you to count. that LED wire reindeer comes to life, with its head slowly rising and falling. and the trees, all laced with bulbs that mimic stars more than tacky lights from Home Depot, twinkle and dance to the displays around them. it’s beautiful. (and like him, a little obnoxious.)

you feel an arm wrap around your shoulder, pulling you to Joseph’s enormous figure. though his smile is unwavering, his gaze isn’t on the house in front of you. no, it’s on you yourself. for all the sweat and effort you both put into this, his attention still falls back to you. ↳ “haha! there you have it. you have a real knack for this, kiddo. couldn’t’ve done it without you. ...now let’s go back inside, I can’t feel my damn fingers...!”

muhammad avdol.

Avdol’s favorite holiday tradition is drinking hot chocolate.

though he doesn’t celebrate Christmas, Avdol enjoys the traditions that come with it for you. his personal favorite is drinking something hot after a long day. Cairo may be in the desert, but it still gets quite chilly at night!

he usually opts for tea in the evening (masala chai being his favorite), but he’s starting to warm up to hot chocolate. while American hot chocolate is far too sweet for him, a pinch of cayenne pepper and a little cinnamon makes it more tolerable.

it’s become something of a challenge to get him to drink hot chocolate. it’s not his first choice. sure, he’ll still drink it if you offer, but you’re quick to notice that small grimace as he takes his first sip. you’ve taken it as a sign to make something delicious for him. so you go back to the basics: cayenne and cinnamon. considering Avdol’s distaste for overly sweet foods, you opt to make the beverage out of semi-sweet chocolate. mix it all together with some warm milk, add a cinnamon stick and some nutmeg at the top, and you’ve got the key to Avdol’s heart.

you place it proudly in front of him. this has to be it. you know him well enough to recognize his tastes. yet when he rests his mug against his lips, taking that first sip... you can’t read him. his features are still.

truth be told, it’s exactly the kind of drink he’d love. damn. you nailed his tastes a little too well. but he's not going to admit defeat. seeing you try so hard to impress him in a desperate attempt to share your culture with him... it’s heartwarming. he doesn’t want it to end. so he sends you a click of his tongue, a sly grin, and the shake of his head. ↳ “it tastes much better, but I think something is missing... why don’t we try to find it together?”

jotaro kujo.

Jotaro’s favorite holiday tradition is eating Christmas cake.

Christmas cake is just a strawberry shortcake. it’s a simple dessert, something that most Japanese families eat around the holidays. Holly’s become a master at baking it. and while Jotaro doesn’t have much of a sweet tooth, he loves Christmas cake.

the only thing he loves more than Christmas cake is his family, though he’d never admit it outwardly. he has a lot of fond memories of eating Christmas cake right after dinner. sometimes if he behaved well enough Holly would sneak him a slice before then. even now he gets a warm feeling seeing all his favorite people together, sharing the fruits of Holly’s kitchen labors.

and because he’s dating you, you’re one of those people, too. the invite is casual; he makes it sound like you can come if you have nothing better to do. so of course you come. you show up at his house, smile in tow, eager to celebrate with him and his own family. (but let’s be real, Holly has adopted you as one of her own ― his family is as much as yours now.)

that same warm feeling creeps up on him as he watches you and Holly bake the cake. you look so happy here, so natural, as if you were always meant to be a part of this household. he won’t smile back at you. no, if you catch him staring, he’ll just dip his head and turn away. you know by now that he’s happy too, however.

when it comes time to eat, Jotaro won’t say anything. he’ll let his mom, Joseph, and Suzie Q do their little pre-feast speech, rambling some bullshit about tradition and midnight Mass. but when he looks back at you, standing there at his side, that warm feeling bubbles in his stomach once more. you belong here. this is where you’re meant to be: right here, with him, placed so perfectly within his own family. ↳ “hey. you know you can come back whenever. being surrounded by all this noise is actually tolerable when you’re here.”

noriaki kakyoin.

Kakyoin’s favorite holiday tradition is exchanging presents.

though his family isn’t Christian, Kakyoin fondly remembers his parents exchanging presents every year. small things, tiny trinkets and letters to express their love for one another. as such, he’s always wanted to celebrate it with someone special. he’d be lying if he said he hasn’t romanticized the holiday.

as such, he’s beyond excited to celebrate it with you. he tries to keep his cool about the whole affair, but his eyes are bright and he refuses to let go of your hand as he pulls you through the streets of Tokyo.

the city is decked out in all sorts of light displays, from hanging icicles to flashy LEDs. mascots line the streets delivering candy canes with advertisements for local restaurants. the smell of chocolate is evident throughout every street you turn on.

but the city is only part of it. a big part of the date, yes, but Kakyoin has the finale all planned out. he brings you to a shrine outside of the hustle and bustle. it’s a bit of a hike and it’s dimly lit, though you figure that’s why no one else is up here. he sits you down on a short bench, short enough for you to be sitting shoulder to shoulder, gazing down at the city below. that’s when he gives it to you:

it’s a small gold box wrapped with a red ribbon. fancy, you think to yourself. with his teasing you to just open it, though, you get to work pulling apart the red ribbon. you’re not sure what to expect. Kakyoin’s not one for brands, nor does he like anything flashy himself. had he gotten you something like that...? yet when you open the box, what stares back is a cassette tape. of course. he’s far more thoughtful than you gave him credit for. ↳ “clichéd, I know. but every time I hear any of these songs, all I can think of is you. I can, ah... I can play it for you when we get back.”

jean pierre polnareff.

Polnareff’s favorite holiday tradition is shopping for presents.

shopping for presents is a melancholy activity. it was a tradition he had with Sherry, to go about the nearest market and pick out the best gifts for their family and friends. she’s been gone for a while now. even still, it hurts all the same.

he’s beyond thankful that he has you. you don’t try to get him to forget about her, but you also don’t let him to wallow in self-pity. you honor her memory, letting him reminisce about better times. likewise, you’re more than happy to accompany him on his shopping trip.

Polnareff is quiet for most of the trip. it’s uncharacteristic of him, and if you’re being honest, a little uncomfortable. though you know he’s doing his best to focus. you can tell from the way his gloved fingers stay laced with yours, his grip tightening just the slightest to remind you that he’s still present.

you try to cheer him up by getting a spiced wine and offering to share with him. and. jesus christ. his eyes just light up. it’s that cute, couple-y shit that he loves and you did it for him like it was nothing. from then on, Polnareff is a little less mopey. more lighthearted. the Polnareff you know and so deeply love, back at it with his high-spirited self.

he stops you when it’s time to return home. shopping bags rest in his grip, with the faintest tint of red on his upper lip from all the wine. you’re pretty exhausted ― both from shopping and trying to keep him happy ― and he knows this, yet he stops you nonetheless. it’s a quick affair, where he puts a simple, glass heart ornament in your palm, the date written in silvery letters. oh? he must have gotten it when you weren’t looking. ↳ “you’ve helped me a lot today. you know that, vérité? I just... want to remember this day forever.”

#stardust crusaders #jjba #JoJo's Bizarre Adventure #jotaro kujo #Noriaki Kakyoin #Joseph Joestar #Jean Pierre Polnareff #Muhammad Avdol #part 3 #part 3!joseph #part 3!jotaro #alcohol /#death /#a holiday hooha with toya #toya whisks u away #headcanons #stardust crusaders (group)#long post #i'll put a read more on this after 24 hrs as always!

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emospritelet · 3 years

Text

Twisted Fate - chapter 26

Last time, Gold started to suspect that Neal might be his long-lost son. Here's what happened next

[AO3]

Belle left hospital the next day, Gideon strapped to her chest in a sling while Gold wheeled the suitcase beside her. The day was pleasantly warm, sun on her face as she walked to the car, and it felt good to be out in the fresh air and away from the hospital, with its hurrying staff and constant noise. She was still in pain, and far more tired than she had expected to be, but she stopped off in the lobby of the apartment building to let Marco coo over Gideon and comment on how much he looked like his father. Gold had a tiny smile on his face all the way up in the elevator.

It was a relief to sleep in what she now thought of as their bed, Gold spooned around her and his scent in her nose. Gideon woke them in the night, but Gold kissed her shoulder and whispered that she should rest. She still lay awake listening anxiously until he got back into bed and assured her that Gideon was fed, changed and sleeping again. There was an urge to go and check on him herself, but she told herself firmly to trust Gold to take care of his son, and her body was tired and sore enough that she soon drifted off.

Gold woke early, just as dawn was greying the sky, and tiptoed from the room to make a pot of coffee and check in on Gideon. Quiet as he was, Belle was stirring when he put his head around the bedroom door, and so he handed Gideon to her to feed before returning to the kitchen to pour out the coffee and make a hearty breakfast.

The first few days were hectic as they tried to adjust to their new life, establishing as much of a routine for Gideon as they could. Gold was enjoying being a father again, and fully intended to do the best job he could. Belle was clearly exhausted, and so he tried to ease the burden as much as possible, letting her nap with Gideon while he cleaned up, made dinner and baked. In between his chores, he dealt with work matters, giving instructions to Mr Dove in relation to rent or enforcement matters, assessing collateral for loans over video calls and countersigning a new tenancy agreement. He got up to feed and change Gideon in the middle of the night, hoping that Belle would get some much-needed rest. A small voice at the back of his mind told him that he, too, needed to rest, but sleep was elusive and his mind far too preoccupied to notice his building exhaustion.

He had been a ball of nervous energy ever since he and Belle had had the conversation about Neal. Getting his family settled into their home held his attention for the daylight hours, but once he was lying in bed, his mind was let loose to agonise over every possible worst case scenario it could dream up. The day after their return he was alert to every noise outside the apartment, every suggestion that a knock might sound and the Cassidys be outside. The knock never came, and over dinner the following evening, Belle mentioned that she had received a text from Emma. Henry had developed a bad cold, and Neal and Emma thought it best that they not visit and run the risk of passing it on to Gideon.

“I’m sorry he’s not well,” said Gold, an odd mixture of despair and relief rippling through him and pricking at his skin. “I’m sure they’ll come over soon. I’ll make a carrot cake this weekend. Maybe some chocolate cupcakes. Just in case they show up.”

Belle gave him a level look, as though she wasn’t fooled by his easy tone. She probably wasn’t.

“This must be hard for you,” she said quietly, and Gold put down his fork, abandoning his pretence at equilibrium.

“I still don’t know what the hell I’m gonna say to him,” he admitted. “How do I even raise the subject? Cupcake, Neal? Oh, by the way, did your mother ever mention that your father was Scottish? Kind of short? Me?”

He grimaced, running his hands over his face, and stilled at the warm pressure of Belle’s hand on his arm. He spread his fingers to gaze out through them into calm blue eyes.

“There isn’t going to be an easy way to do this,” she said gently. “But you could always try talking about your past, see if anything resonates with him.”

The fingers snapped shut, hiding her from his sight, and Gold sighed heavily before dropping his hands back to the table and sitting back.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “That seems - more natural, I suppose.”

“You could always ask Archie for advice,” she suggested, and he nodded.

“That’s true. Although we don’t know whether there’s anything there to ask advice about yet.”

“I suppose.”

“If there is…” Gold sat forwards again, threading his fingers together nervously. “If there is, if Neal really is my son, I have a feeling Dr Hopper will be seeing a lot more of my money.”

Belle smiled, squeezing his arm again.

“A worthy investment, wouldn’t you say?”

“If it gets me a good relationship with my family, absolutely.” He gave her a tiny smile, and she beamed, her eyes gleaming.

“It’s already doing that,” she said softly. “I’m proud of you. Facing your pain, your past, your fears… it’s a brave thing to do.”

He smiled, her words making his heart swell with love, even as he endured the discomfort of unexpected praise.

“Well, I have many years of cowardice to make up for,” he said, with an awkward smile.

Belle gave him a somewhat sad smile in return before sitting back, and there was a moment of silence. He picked up his fork again, cutting into the slice of almond cake and spearing it with the tines.

“What about you?” he asked. “Did your father say when he’d be visiting?”

Belle nodded as she cut a piece of her own cake.

“He said next Monday,” she said. “It’s usually a slow day in the shop, so he’s gonna close up at noon after he’s dealt with the flower delivery, and drive down. We’re planning to meet at four-thirty.”

“Ah.” Gold popped the piece of cake into his mouth, enjoying the soft sweetness of ground almonds and the tang of orange zest. “Well, he’s welcome to stay, of course.”

Belle eyed him over her fork, but shook her head.

“He’s only coming down for the day, and to be honest I think that’s a good idea,” she said. “I said I’d meet him at the diner by the park, and I think it’s best if it’s just me and Gideon. I thought we could go for a walk and get something to eat. That’s probably enough contact for both of us at this stage.”

“As you wish,” he said, secretly relieved at not having to play nice with Moe French.

“Depending on how this first visit goes, he might be staying over in future, though,” she added.

“Of course.”

“And you never know,” she said, spearing another piece of cake. “Maybe one day we’ll move back to Storybrooke. You, me, Gid, and - well, we’ll see how things go.”

She gave him a secretive little smile, and for a moment he envisioned entering the pink house with several small children racing past him to fill the place with life and love and laughter. He smiled back.

“That sounds wonderful.”

Belle was enjoying motherhood, but she wondered how single mothers coped alone. Gold had been amazing, racing around the house keeping it clean and tidy, cooking delicious meals for the two of them and helping to feed and change Gideon. He insisted on being the one to get up during the night, even as she said they should take it in turns, but she had to admit that it was a relief to get some rest as her body recovered. He made cakes and cookies and brought her breakfast in bed while she fed Gideon, and made sure she wanted for nothing.

She was worried that he was doing too much; she caught him napping on the couch one afternoon with a pile of laundry in his lap, hands buried in Gideon’s sleep suits and head back against the cushions. She had let him sleep, tiptoeing through to the kitchen to make some tea, and made the dinner herself that evening.

As the time drew nearer for her father’s visit, she found herself getting nervous, and Gideon seemed to pick up on it, growing fractious as she dressed him for the trip outside.

“You sure you don’t want me to come?” asked Gold, helping her get him into the stroller, and Belle shook her head.

“It’s fine, really,” she said. “I’m sure he’ll be okay once we’re out and he’s got something new to look at.”

“In that case,” he said. “I’ll make something nice for when you get back.”

“You always do.”

“Well, something special, then,” he said. “What would you like?”

Belle pursed her lips.

“A full night’s sleep and a foot rub?”

He grinned.

“Consider it done.”

“I’ll be eating about five-thirty,” she added. “So I won’t want anything for dinner, but I’ll probably feel like curling up with a glass of wine and something stodgy.”

“I’m sure I can think of something.”

He finished tucking Gideon in, and kissed his cheek before straightening up to kiss Belle. She clung to him a little longer than usual, and he squeezed her tight.

“It’ll be okay,” he said softly. “And I’m only a phone call away if you need me.”

She nodded, taking a deep, fortifying breath, and set her hands to the stroller, pushing it towards the elevator. Glancing back over her shoulder, she could see Gold watching her from the doorway, and she gave him a reassuring smile as she pressed the elevator call button, hoping for a positive outcome.

The apartment was eerily silent without either Belle or Gideon, and Gold didn’t like it. He busied himself cleaning up, folding a freshly-washed pile of laundry and vacuuming the floors. He also made up a pan of chicken casserole, adding a generous glass of red wine, and set it to a low simmer while he pondered what else to cook. He made some bread, pummelling the dough briskly before setting it aside to rise, and wiped flour-covered hands on his apron before poking through the store cupboard again. Belle had mentioned wanting something stodgy to eat, so he decided to make a pan of brownies.

By the time he had finished mixing the batter and put the tin in the oven, it was a quarter to six. He poured himself a glass of the wine and took a large gulp, one toe tapping on the floor as he wondered how Belle’s dinner with her father was going. He hadn’t received a distressed phone call, so he had to assume she was fine. She was more than capable of standing up to her father, but he hoped that wouldn’t be necessary. Surely not even Moe French could maintain his bad attitude when he got to hold Gideon.

A knock at the apartment door made him start, and he set down his glass, wiping his hands on his apron and grasping his cane to head for the door. Looking out through the spy hole, he paused as Neal’s face glanced up, his figure distorted by the curve of the lens. Gold’s heart started thumping high in his throat, blood pounding, and he swallowed, his throat dry, the handle gripped tight. His hand shook as he opened the door, and he licked his lips nervously as Neal grinned at him, hefting what looked like a leather laptop bag up a little further on his shoulder.

“Hello, Neal,” said Gold, unsure where his calm tone had come from, but relieved that he sounded normal.

“Hey,” said Neal, patting the bag. “Belle asked Emma to pick her up a couple of books from the university library. I said I’d drop ‘em off on my way home, since I was in the area.”

Gold made a decision.

“Please, come on in,” he said, stepping back and holding open the door. “Belle’s out at the moment, but you’re welcome to wait. I could make some coffee. Or I’ve opened the wine, if you’d prefer a glass of that.”

Neal’s eyes brightened.

“Really? Wouldn’t say no, it’s been a hell of a day.”

He stepped into the apartment, and Gold closed the door behind him, following him into the kitchen and trying to calm his racing heart. Neal shrugged off the strap of his bag, putting it on the table with a heavy thump of books and wriggling his shoulder.

“Belle should try e-books,” he said. “Less chance of a dislocated shoulder.”

Gold chuckled at that.

“I offered to get her one, but she prefers the feel and smell of real books,” he said, getting a second glass from the cupboard and pouring a measure of wine. “Not that she’s had all that much time to read lately.”

“No, I guess not. Thanks.” Neal took the wine. “You say she’ll be back soon?”

“She took Gideon to go and meet her father, but I’m expecting her back in the next half hour or so.”

“You didn’t go too?” asked Neal, and Gold pulled a face.

“Let’s just say that the peace between the two of them is new and fragile, and my presence really wouldn’t help that.”

“Yeah, I pretty much heard her dad’s a tool,” said Neal, making Gold grin.

“My opinion of him is fairly low, but I have to say the feeling’s mutual.”

“Guess you can’t choose your family,” said Neal, and took a drink. “Wow! That’s nice!”

“A favourite of mine.” Gold hesitated, turning the glass between his fingers. “How’s Henry?”

“Yeah, he’s a lot better,” said Neal. “Totally snot-free, happy to say. We thought we might come over Friday, if you’re up for having visitors.”

“I’m sure we’d love that.”

Another pause. Gold took a mouthful of wine, feeling his pulse thud in his throat, his skin tingling. He almost choked as he swallowed, and blinked rapidly, his eyes watering.

“You okay?” asked Neal. “Went down the wrong way?”

“Yes. Uh - shall we go through to the lounge?”

Gold gestured awkwardly towards the kitchen door, and Neal wandered off, leaving him to follow on feet that felt as though they were made of steel plates. It was a relief to sit down, and he had to stop himself from tapping his feet restlessly as he turned the glass between his hands and tried to think of something to say. Neal was good enough to break the heavy silence.

“How’s life with Gideon?” he asked, and Gold smiled.

“He doesn’t give us a lot of time to sit and take a breath, that’s for certain,” he said, “But it’s wonderful. I’m incredibly lucky.”

“You’re enjoying being a dad again, huh?”

“Very much.”

“Is it like you remember?” asked Neal, and Gold hesitated. Here, at last, was an opening. An opportunity.

“With my first son,” he said. “I wasn’t there for the first eighteen months of his life. A little like you and Henry.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes.” Gold looked down at his wine, deep red rippling catching tiny specks of light. “It wasn’t by choice, I might add.”

“I’m gonna take a wild guess and say you weren’t in jail,” said Neal, and he smiled.

“No, not jail. Unless of course you count the one of my own making.”

“Deep.”

“Pompous. Sorry.”

Neal chuckled, and Gold took a drink of wine.

“His mother and I weren’t suited,” he said then. “We were never in a proper relationship, and I wasn’t surprised when she left town. But then she came back two years later, with a child. My child, so she said.”

“You think she was lying?”

“No,” he said immediately. “No, I knew he was mine. At least - at least I thought that I knew. I could - I could feel it.”

He tapped his closed fist against his heart, and Neal watched him silently. Gold gave a tiny shrug.

“Of course I wanted to give him everything I hadn’t - that is - I wanted to do the best for my son as I could,” he said, floundering a little. “I worked hard, earned a good wage - unfortunately, that meant spending more time at work, and less time at home. Milah didn’t appreciate being, in her words: ‘stuck indoors all day with a screaming brat’.”

Neal had gone very still.

“Did you say Milah?” he asked neutrally.

“My ex,” said Gold, wishing his heart would stop thumping so hard. “Anyway, I came home one day, and she’d gone. I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised at that, but I never thought she’d take him. I never thought…” He cut off, ducking his head. “I never thought I’d lose him.”

Neal took a swallow of wine, and Gold squeezed his glass in an attempt to still his trembling hands.

“What happened?” asked Neal.

“Well, I found out that without being named as his father, I had no right to find out what had happened to him,” he said wearily. “So I had to search alone. She moved around a lot: from Scotland to England, and eventually, to the US. The last place I could trace them to was Social Services in Phoenix. She’d left him there. Said she’d come back and never did.”

Neal shook his head, looking stunned.

“So - so what happened?” he asked. “Did you find him?”

“No.” Gold eyed him steadily. “No, he’d gone. Run away. I was three months too late. I kept searching, but there were no more leads. He knew how to hide, it seemed.”

Neal swallowed hard, and set down his glass.

“You said you weren’t named as the father,” he said. “So his name wasn’t Gold, right?”

“No,” said Gold. “His last name was Bonny, after his mother.”

Neal pushed to his feet in a rush, agitation making his nostrils flare.

“Who told you my mother was called that?” he demanded. “Was it Emma? What did she say? How did you know that?”

“What?” Gold shook his head, an invisible hand squeezing at his heart and leaving him breathless. “I don’t - Emma didn’t tell me anything, I just - well, I remember Milah’s name, of course I do. And - and your name is Cassidy.”

“Because I changed it!” Neal began to pace, running a hand through his hair and looking shattered. “I don’t - I can’t…”

He shook his head, stomping towards the door.

“No, please!” said Gold desperately, pushing to his feet. “Please, don’t go, I just - I need you to listen for a moment.”

“I can’t!”

“Please!” he urged. “Please, my son’s name is Bailey. Bailey Stephen Bonny. He was born on the first of May, twenty-nine years ago, and - and I’ve been searching for him ever since he disappeared, ever since his mother took him from me.”

“This is - this isn’t possible.” Neal shook his head, looking devastated. “This can’t be real. I have to - I have to go, I have to think.”

“No, wait!”

His hand was on the door handle, and Gold had reached out, wanting to touch him, desperate to touch him. He drew back at the last minute, pain clawing at his chest, as though his heart was trying to tear its way out. Neal’s knuckles were white on the handle, his body shaking with tension, and Gold blinked tears from his eyes.

“Is it you, Bae?” he whispered, his voice breaking a little. “Is it really you?”

The name on his tongue seemed to break whatever spell had fallen over them, and Neal wrenched at the door, barging out into the corridor and slamming it shut behind him. Gold sagged, shoulders slumping as he gripped the cane handle to hold himself upright. It’s him. It’s my son. My Bae.

#fic: twisted fate #rumbelle fic #rumbelle #my fic

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sp00kworm · 4 years

Text

A Fayre (Part 2 )

Pairing: Rakuh (Male Orc) x Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: Violence, Fighting, Blood and Injury description.

Part 1

Tag List: @silverclawz

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“Rakuh?” You peered into the workshop with a worried frown, “Your mum is worried.”

Shul had grabbed you as you pulled up into the garages, a great worried frown painting her features as she tucked her hands into her apron. Apparently, she hadn’t seen Rakuh since that morning. It was a Sunday. The garage was closed, except for emergencies, so the two brothers were free to spend their time as they wished on their day off. Usually that meant Rakuh spent his time alone working on his own projects while Xurek whisked himself off to the city for a day socialising.

A grunt of acknowledgement came from further inside the work shed. Typical, you grumbled to yourself as you stepped inside and took your coat off. It was far too warm in the shed with all the metal working. The clang of a hammer smacking against superheated metal drew you into Rakuh’s working room.

“Rakuh?” You cooed as you watched him heavily smack away at one of the final imperfections in a shoulder pauldron, “Shul is worried, and you know if you don’t go and have your lunch she’ll interrupt you and make you mad.”

Rakuh worked the dent free before cooling the metal in a water bucket and pulling his visor free, “Is it lunch time already?” He asked as he reached for his towel to wipe the caked sweat from his face, “Fuck.” He cursed as he wiped his hands on the towel, black smudges staining the fabric.

“You forgot again, didn’t you?” You joked as you watched Rakuh scrub at his face on another rag and sigh at the sweat and charcoal that came off his skin, “I’m not mad.” You soothed as he looked at you sheepishly, “But we better get inside for lunch before Shul comes and kicks your backside herself.”

“I’m sorry.” Rakuh muttered. He gently cooled the forge off before taking you by the hand and dragging you back towards the house, “You go on inside.” He insisted, “I should go and get a shower out back. Ma won’t let me in the house if I’m treading muck in.”

“You’re not that…” Your eyes widened as he sighed and pulled off his shirt, his chest covered in sweat and metallic grime from the fire and hammer, “Never mind. You go and shower. I’ll let your mum know you’re coming.” Rakuh nodded but before he could run off you reached up to kiss at his cheek. After grumbling and blushing, snatched at your chin and kissed your forehead softly before he disappeared to the small, sheltered shower block back towards the garage. They usually used the outbuilding for showering off after working in the garage, but it served just as well for Rakuh and Gurlog with their other messy hobbies.

You opened the door to the house with a smile and shouted through to the kitchen as you pulled your shoes off by the door, “He’s just having a shower, Shul!” You shouted before tucking your shoes up against the wall.

Shul smacked a pan of vegetables on the side, “That bloody boy!” She cursed softly and apologised before waving you in, “Be a gem and help me plate up? Oh, but first, go and give Gurlog a kick? He’s fallen asleep in front of the rugby, again!” Shul huffed, her greying, black hair swinging in a dangerous, whip tight braid, as she started draining the other pans of water and reached down to take a roasting tin from the oven.

You took a drink in your hands for Gurlog and gently shook the old man by his shoulder, “Shul wants you up, Gurlog.” You smiled and offered him the large cup of herbal tea, “Dinner is ready as well…But it looks like your team lost.” You pointed at the score.

Gurlog cursed, and gave one vicious stomp in annoyance, “Typical! I fall asleep and they lose! They were winning before I dropped off!” He insisted before sitting up and rubbing his eyes, “I’ll be through in a minute. Tell ‘er, before she blows through the roof.” He chuckled before taking a sip of tea.

With a salute you headed back to the kitchen to help Shul begin plating up the large lunch, which was, apparently, a tradition in their household.

Gurlog sat down at the table with little fanfare and smiled as you placed his roast meat lunch in front of him. Your own lunch was much smaller than all the others but, considering the other three were Orcs, you weren’t too concerned.

Shul sat down and shook her head as Rakuh dashed up the side of the house, fresh bottoms pulled on but his chest bare. As the door opened, Shul leaned back to scowl at her son, “Go and put a shirt on! Then, and only then, will I let you into this kitchen!”

Rakuh growled in the hallway but you smiled as he stomped up the stairs and then back down once again. He reappeared in the kitchen doorway with socks on his feet and a tight-fitting t-shirt on, “Better now Ma?” He asked with a scoff as he sat down next to you at the table, “Is Xurek not eatin’ with us?”

“No, he left and said he was eating out, don’t you remember?” Shul asked before sighing as Rakuh frowned, trying to remember his brother even leaving the house, “I’ll take that as a ‘no’.” She joked.

“I don’t even remember seeing him leave to be honest.” Rakuh grunted as you all started to eat, “I was busy with the pauldrons all morning. I barely remember what breakfast was.”

Shul clicked her tongue.

Gurlog reached out and squeezed at her thigh, “Shul, leave the boy alone. You know exactly what he’s like.” He took his hand back and smiled, “Besides, Xurek really is missing out this time. Its delicious, sweetheart.”

“Thank you, darling.” Shul’s rage seemed to melt as she smiled at her husband.

“So,” Gurlog chewed a great piece of roasted beef before continuing, “Where are you both off to today?”

“Up to try and spot some of the new fawn from the Red Deer. They’re apparently up towards the west hills. I heard the old salmon fisher talking about it.” Rakuh offered as he sliced up his own food.

Gurlog sighed through his nose, “They’re like vermin those things.” With a scoff he ate another mouthful before commenting, “Not the most romantic thing, Rakuh.”

Shul scowled and kicked Gurlog underneath the dinner table.

Gurlog gave a grunt and a sad look of pain before putting on a fake smile, “But I heard the heather is lookin’ nice.”

“I think it’s a lovely idea.” Shul offered, “Would you like me to pack you both some food? I can make a flask of tea while I’m at it if you’d like?”

Rakuh opened his mouth, scowling, but didn’t get to say a word before you cut him off.

“A flask of tea would be nice, Shul. But don’t worry about the food. I think we’ll both be full until tomorrow!” You nudged Rakuh’s knee.

The male Orc looked down at you before rolling his eyes, “She’s going to make sandwiches for when we get back anyway…”

Shul smiled, “Of course. Sunday supper.” She nodded her head, her earrings clinking, before turning the conversation onto other matters, “Are you going up there to propose, Rakuh?”

Both of you simultaneously chocked on the roasted vegetables.

Purple Heather was in bloom across the peaty sides of the hills, long stems of grass between the shrubbery stretching towards the sky in a desperate attempt to see the last rays of the summer sun. So high in the dales, most of the weather consisted of rain and wind. The pine trees were thick in the place you pulled over in Rakuh’s truck. The air was damp but sweet with the smell of heather pollen and you stuck your nose out of the window to smell at it. The drizzle dampened your skin as you looked around at the thin outcrops of pine trees. Rakuh was characteristically quiet next to you, looking at the trees, the wipers of the four by four swiping left and right at timed intervals.

“We’re not likely to see them if it rains any harder.” Rakuh whispered as he looked at the treeline, “They don’t like the rain.” He chuckled softly before catching your hand in his own.

Softly, you squeezed his hand, locking your fingers together as you peered out of the window, your coat collar tugged up to keep the breeze out. The trees swayed in the gales from the hills and Rakuh sighed as the weather worsened.

“I don’t think we’ll be seeing any deer today, Rakuh.” You offered with a disappointed smile, “Maybe the weather will be better next week?”

Rakuh huffed, “Typical. The day I bring you to see them they don’t show.” He grumbled with his elbow rested on the car door, looking out at the field.

Suddenly he perked up, pointed ears alert as he looked out at a set of old dry-stone wall, “Over there.” He whispered as you undid your belt and leaned over to see what the Orc was looking at. There was a long stretch of crumbling dry-stone with hedgerows growing either side. It was a field made for cattle, but beyond the small gate in the middle, a rough, brown coloured hide of a deer poked out, visible through the bars of the gate. You smiled as you perched yourself across Rakuh’s lap, watching the deer’s tail flip left and right before it raised its head. It was a stag, great antlers tall and proud on top of its head as it looked around the fields before it stuck its head back down into the grass it was eating previously.

“Its beautiful.” You cooed softly as Rakuh grunted and pulled you properly into his lap, sitting you across his thighs as you both watched the stag perk up again and slowly walk along the wall, big eyes trained on the car as it headed back towards the trees.

“At least we saw one.” Rakuh rumbled as you watched the white backside of the stag disappear back into the trees.

“We saw a stag, that’s pretty impressive in itself.” You smiled as you peered at the trees before remembering you were spread over Rakuh’s lap.

With a tug, Rakuh stopped you from rushing back to your own seat, “You can stay there if you want?” He blushed a bright cherry colour before placing his hands on the bottom of your back, the fingers rubbing small circles.

Smiling, you reached up to tug at the septum piercing in his nose. The big gold ring was an easy target, and Rakuh wasn’t fast enough to stop you tugging his face down with the piece of jewellery. You laid a kiss on his lips before he could grumble about something and gave a soft noise as he relaxed against you. Carefully, you traced around the bottom of his tusks and rubbed the soft, sensitive skin as you pulled away from his lips.

“You need to stop surprising me with those.” Rakuh huffed. His cheeks burned with the bright colour of his blood, “I can kiss as well, ya know?” He grumbled before dodging the next tug to his large, thick septum ring. Your hands were pinned in front of you before the Orc took the initiative and pressed you back in a hot kiss. Tusks grazed against your cheeks as you pushed back into the kiss and wound your fingers into the hair at the back of his neck. Ginger strands of hair came loose from the braids and sat between your fingers as you held onto Rakuh tight, determined not to let the male get away from you again. Unfortunately, you were still the first one to break away for air, but as soon as you took a few breaths of air, Rakuh was on you again, his lips pressed to yours as his tongue prodded uncertainly at your lips and licked inside of your mouth. Your tongues met briefly before Rakuh pulled away with a deep grumble, his fingers pinching tightly at your hips and bottom, squeezing the flesh tight before he reached to stroke over your jaw and neck. You looked at the Orc and traced your own fingers over the freckles over his cheeks and nose, playing dot-to-dot with the brown freckles before flicking the golden earrings in his ears and rubbing his beard playfully.

Rakuh’s teeth clicked as he smiled bright and wide, hugging you to his front as the rain bounced off the road and the car’s windscreen. He adjusted his braid over his shoulder before gripping you tightly to his front again, blushing, embarrassed but happy.

“What did I do to deserve someone like you?” He sighed happily before holding your face in his huge hands and kissing you softly on the nose.

You snagged his nose ring again in order to place just as soft a kiss on Rakuh’s nose, “That’s my line.” You cooed, “You’re just perfect.”

“Hardly. You’re human and…” Rakuh grumbled when you gave him a curious look, “You’re so… Gorgeous. You’re too good for an Orc.” He confessed as his eyebrows furrowed with worry, “No one likes me enough or has ever… ya know, gotten to know me to get this far…”

“Well I have, and I think you’re perfect.” You offered as you took his hands and kissed him again, softly yet resolute.

Rakuh huffed against his seat before kissing you again and nodding, “How about we go to the fayre at the end of the month?” He offered, “My treat. It’s a weekend thing that we do to meet up with distant relatives. Most Orc clans have them. ‘Celebrates our history.”

You nodded as you listened before you grinned at the Orc, “Will I get to see your armour and outift?” You poked him excitedly, “And the kilt?”

Rakuh nodded with a blush as he placed you back into your own seat, “Yeah. The kilt as well.”

“No underwear?” You asked.

“We’ll see.” He grunted as he turned on the engine and put the car into gear.

Rakuh shouted your name from the bedroom of the house. You were both the last people left. Shul and Gurlog had left with Xurek in tow, revving his motorcycle behind his parents before zooming off in front. Rakuh waved from the bannister as you peered up the stairs.

“Have you gotten dressed?” He asked as he leaned over the bannister. His dark eyes looked you up and down as he frowned, “You’re goin’ in that?”

You shrugged, “Yeah? Does it matter what I go in? Its only a re-enactment fayre, isn’t it?”

Rakuh scoffed at the top of the stairs before waving you up, “Come ‘ere.” He stomped back towards his room to fetch something. As you made it to the top of the stairs, he reappeared with a bag in his hand, “I had Ma help me with the measurements and she did most of the stitching but I added the leather and…Here!” He grunted as he thrust the bag into your hands, “Get into that. I’ll get the car runnin’.” You took the bag from Rakuh and watched him walk down the stairs, the blue and white kilt he had on flapping behind his thighs.

You peered into the bag after the front door opened and then closed with a resolute bang. There was a whole outfit. The clan tartan adored a sash for you to wear along with other hard-wearing clothing and leather additions. It was a typical outfit for an Orc married to a warrior, except sized down for your human needs. You pulled the blue and white tartan out of the bag and smiled at the soft sash before quickly ducking into the bathroom to change out of your normal clothing and into the new ones. You pulled on the soft leather and cotton before tying the great hanging sash around your waist and shoulder. It was warm underneath the layers but you looked in the bottom of the bag and smiled at the faux fur coat. After you pulled the coat on, you tied it closed with the belt before rushing to the bottom of the stairs and pausing by the door. A pair of boots were sat in front of the door and you quickly threw your sneakers into the bag with the rest of your clothes before putting the boots on and rushing out to the car, locking the door only after a brief afterthought.

Rakuh smiled at you as you posed beside his side of the car. He whistled jokingly at you as you gave him a spin, “It suits you.”

“Thank you for making it. And Shul! It must have taken you both so long!” You exclaimed as you leaned through the driver’s side window to give him a long kiss, “Its amazing, so thank you.” You cooed at the Orc.

“Anything for you.” Rakuh uttered against your lips before reaching his hand out of the window to smack at your backside, “Come on. We’re gonna be late.”

You yelped at the swat, rubbing your backside through the coat as you walked around the four-by-four and opened the passenger seat. You tucked the house keys into the glove box before fastening your belt and smiling at Rakuh.

“Ma’s got the lunches, so we’re set…I think.” He rubbed his ginger beard before shrugging and reversing off the driveway, “You ready for an Orcish fayre?” Rakuh asked as he shifted into gear and started along the main town road.

“As ready as I’ll ever be!”

The hills turned into flat farmland after a while of driving along small, one car wide roads. Eventually you joined onto a main road and watched as the beginnings of civilization appeared. You drove through a large town, passing a number of department stores before heading back out into the countryside. The farmers’ fields turned into traffic ridden roads and you listened to Rakuh grumble next to you.

“Fuckin’ hell.” He cursed as the car slowed to a crawl. You both had most of the armour and normal clothes in the back for the way home, so he was sat shirtless in the summer heat, one hand on the wheel and his arm out of the window.

“I’m sure it’ll move.” You offered before you heard a text notification from your phone. You opened your phone and looked at the text message from Shul, “She says the traffic is because of the fayre turn off.” You offered, “But apparently its also because your uncle broke down at the entrance. They’re moving him out of the way now.”

“Fuckin’ typical.” He grunted as he shook his head, “We won’t even have time to get ready properly at this rate!” Rakuh huffed as he pointed his thumb back at the armour and body paint, both of which he had in the back seat for his display fight.

“Don’t panic! We’ll get there in no time.”

Thirty minutes later the traffic finally let up, and you stretched happily as you finally got out of the car, reaching for the sky as you popped your back.

Rakuh popped open the boot of the car and pulled out your bag for you before he went to collect the paint and armour off the back seat, “Do you think you could help me to get ready?” He asked softly.

You smiled, “Of course.”

“You made it!” Shul’s voice rang out over the carpark and she gasped in glee at your outfit, “Oh he did give it you!” She cooed as she took hold of your face and squashed your cheeks before stepping back to admire the fit, “You know he had me sneaking around with laundry to find sizes and everything!”

Rakuh’s head peered over the roof of the car, “Ma! Shut up!” He was bright red as he scowled at Shul. His mother simply grinned, exposing the pretty bands around her tusks before she snorted at him and went to go and grab your leather pieces and accessories. Rakuh handed them over without protest but rolled his eyes at Shul’s excitement as she tugged you forwards to dress you properly.

“I need…” Rakuh was stopped with a scowl and a growl from his mother as she helped you wear your clothes in the proper orcish fashion.

Shull huffed, “You’ll get your turn.” You heard Gurlog laugh from behind her as he went to go and help Rakuh fasten his armour plates to his body.

“Is Ma done cooing over you now?” Rakuh asked as he sat down in one of the lawn chairs Gurlog had brought along. He shook his head and opened the bag of paints and accessories with a small smile.

“I think so, but she insisted on putting these on my outfit.” You showed him the tied pieces of bone to your thin leathers and chuckled before pointing to the body paint in his hand, “Do you still need some help with that?” You asked.

“Yeah.” Rakuh nodded and opened the tin with a crinkle of his nose, “You’ll want a brush.” He pointed to the bag, “This stuff stains.”

You rustled in the large bag before finding a brush, “What is it made out of?” You asked as he placed the pot on the camping table.

“Woad. It’s a plant. You mush it all up and it produces a blue dye.” Rakuh sat forwards on the chair and leaned over to expose his back to you, “I brought some designs.” He pulled out a piece of paper with various runes and old tribal designs, “You can paint around the tattoos.”

You looked at the sheet on the table and hummed, “I think I can do something for you.” You smiled as you dipped the brush in the pot of Woad and set to work replicating the three-pronged spirals over Rakuh’s back and shoulders.

The fayre was in full swing by the time you met up with Xurek by the large animal arena. They were showing a large horse off, the creature easily well over two metres tall. Its fur was brushed to perfection, the black shiny, and its mane was fastened up on its neck in small buns. It trotted around the arena in a big circle as the Orc in the centre whistled.

“They’re not selling any of the pigs this year.” Xurek offered as you both looked into the pen, leaning back as the huge draught horse came running past once more, “Apparently they’ve had a tough breeding season. They’re too small to show and sell yet. Need more time with their Ma.” He grinned as the horse came past again, “A beauty though this girl.”

Rakuh nodded, “Big chest and strong legs.” He scoffed at Xurek’s eyebrow wiggle, “You need to go and chase skirts or somethin’.”

“What else do they show here?” You asked as the horse went up for bidding.

“Usually Pigs, Wargs and Horses but I think they’ll only be Wargs and Horses this year.” Xurek said sadly as the horse was sold for a small fortune.

Rakuh hummed, “The Wargs are usually very expensive. Ma used to breed ‘em before we came along. Ran a big farm up in the hills to stop ‘em killing things. She had a few show winners.” Rakuh smiled brightly as a white and black spotted Warg was brought into the ring.

You watched the beast snarl lowly as the lead was attached to its harness and it was whistled into action, prowling around the ring in a light walk. Rakuh gave a whistle as the male lumbered past and you watched the pointed ear twist in your direction as burning orange eyes watched Rakuh. Its snort snout opened in another growl as a child rubbed at its fur. The Warg returned to the child and sat by the fence, ignoring commands as the little girl giggled and rubbed at its fur. The beast returned her mile dopily, its tongue hanging from its mouth. All of a sudden, you realised the tall beasts were simply a wolfish great cat, happy for any attention. It shook its head and the pointed fur down its back wiggled before it lumbered around once more and sat low to the ground as the auction began.

“Why don’t you buy a pup?” You asked softly as Rakuh watched the Warg longingly.

He scoffed before replying, “We hardly have enough room to raise a Warg at home.” Rakuh wrapped your arm back through his own as you headed towards the small large holding and display tent for the animals up for sale.

“I’m sure Shul wouldn’t mind if you converted a bit of the garden. Its massive!” You poked at his arm, careful not to poke the Woad stain tattoos on his shoulders.

“Maybe one day.” He offered lamely as you both strolled into the flap of the animal tent.

There was a lot of horses in stalls, kicking and huffing, others chewing hay, looking at you both boredly as you went through. A small pen housed chickens and the one next to it geese, then ducks flapped around in the end zone. They clucked and quacked loudly. The Wargs were in their own tent, away from the prey animals to stop there being too much stress. You looked in awe at the variation in colours and patterning. Rakuh chuckled at your wonder and steered you closer to the pups. The Warg mother sniffed at you through the pen bars but laid down on her side again as her pups rushed around, jumping over her stomach and snapping at one another. There was one with sandy coloured fur and spots like a cheetah climbing on her belly, whining at her as it began to jump. She rolled and the pup slid off, whimpering pathetically as it landed on the floor in a lump. A lick got it back up and it soon returned to its sand coloured siblings to carry on wrestling.

“They’re adorable.” You cooed as one snapped through the bars at your sash.

Rakuh snorted with laughter, “They’re much more dangerous than they look.” He assured you as they started wrestling again.

“You should have one, Rakuh. It would be good for you.” You teased.

The Orc laid a kiss on your hair, “You are more than enough for me at the moment, love.” He took your arm again as you left the pups with a final coo and took you along the path towards the young males.

The display matches were brutal.

“Jesus Christ.” Xurek cringed as the male competitor was carried off on a stretcher, his arm entirely in the wrong position. The female, who had battered the other competitor black and blue, rushed over to apologise and help get the Orc to a hospital to reset his arm. There was a commotion as the doctor on site rushed to pop the shoulder back into place.

“Rakuh are you sure this is a good idea?” You asked, fear welling in your gut as the Orc took his mace from your hand before asking for his shield with a curl of his fingers. The heavy, metal, circular shield weighed a ton to you as you passed it to your lover.

He blew hair between his tusks before leaning to give you another kiss to the forehead, “I promise. I’ll be safe. That match went on too long, but that idiot didn’t call it.” He pointed back at the male who was sat in agony with his arm limp by his side, “I’ll stop if I get too badly beaten.”

Xurek laughed from behind you, “Unlikely! You’ve not been beaten yet, nor ‘av you ever yielded!”

You scowled at Rakuh, “Promise me.” You leaned up to kiss his bottom lip, your fingers rubbing at his beard before you tied a strip of cloth around his arm tight, “A good luck token for my knight.”

The Orc blushed and huffed but gave you a nod, “I’m no knight…but I promise. I’ll be careful.”

The announcer hollered from the stand and you tapped his backside with your fingers, “Now get in there and give them what for.”

Rakuh strode into the ring with confidence, his hair ringing with metallic clicks as his braids waved over his back. The round started as the other Orc entered the ring. The sand kicked up with their circling and instantly you were worried for Rakuh. A long sword was hefted over the other’s shoulder and you looked at Rakuh’s defensive stance as the other Orc strode closer. They were as broad and tall as one another, covered in blue stains of war paint as they circled closer and closer to one another. The first hit came from Rakuh as his mace clipped against the side of the great sword and glanced off with a metallic scrape. The other started his barrage then, driving Rakuh backwards steps with great heavy blows. Rakuh was not small enough to duck or dodge the blows, so he was forced to take them upon his shield and wait, grunting underneath the heavy weight of each strike. Rakuh grunted and stepped two back to avoid a sweep before rushing forwards, glancing the sword from his shield before slamming into the other Orc. The overconfidence sent the other flying backwards, his weapon flying from his grip as he hit the stand with a great thump. Rakuh advanced quickly as the other scrambled for his weapon. As the mace came down, he rolled and snatched for Rakuh’s legs. Rakuh was quick, stepping back, dodging the grab but allowing his opponent time to grab his weapon and defend himself against the next blow of the mace. The two of them separated and growled, circling each other, spinning their weapons before they locked again. Rakuh’s shield shove was dodged, and he feinted into a quick flick of his mace, catching the Orc on the arm. They both locked after that. Rakuh took the tip of the blade to his cheek and a heavy punch to the nose. They both continued pushing against each other before Rakuh’s mace cracked against his leg and the other Orc was sent to the floor.

“Called!” The announcer threw his hands in the air and gestured for the medics to see to the cuts and bruises.

“Rakuh!” You screamed joyously as he walked out of the ring and you were quick to grab his face, forcing him to drop his weapon and shield in order to hold your hips, “You did amazing.” You smiled and placed your forehead against his own.

“Thank you, love.” He said before pushing you away gently, “Now let me get this seen to, then I’m all yours.” A medic laughed behind the both of you before sitting Rakuh down by the ring, a box in his hands ready to stitch up his lip.

“Broken nose again this year, Rakuh.” She tutted as he pointed at you, “Look here.” He did and growled as she snapped his nose back into place, pushing her fingers against it before she tapped the bone back in place, “It’s nasty but you’ll be fine in a few weeks.” She snapped open a saline bottle and poured it over the slice to his cheek, scolding him for squirming before she took out her stitching equipment and laughed, “Hold his hand for this. He’s always been a big baby.” The elderly medic laughed at Rakuh’s growl and smiled as you took his hand, holding him still as she set to work, putting three stitches into the deep cut to keep it shut before she cleaned it once more and covered it with a patch dressing.

“Now, you look after him, I’m going to go and check on the other one. He took a very nasty blow to the leg.” She huffed and returned to the ring.

Rakuh scowled after her, “Vicious hag.”

You slapped his arm but kissed at his uninjured cheek as Rakuh sat down with a huff, “How about we get you that puppy to make you feel better?” You joked.

“Har har.” He scoffed before he kissed you more soundly, in a brazen show of confidence. You leaned into the kiss and hummed softly before Rakuh hissed, tugging away in pain. You had bumped his broken nose.

“Sorry.” You stroked his forehead and pouted, “Now I can’t see all your freckles.” You whined as you brushed the tape over his nose and the dressing on his cheek.

“You can see all of these you baby.” Rakuh touched your hand to his cheek and you paused, feeling his heart beating heavily in his chest.

You smiled and helped him up from the chair, “I love you.” You gushed and Rakuh paused.

His breathing caught in his throat as you wound your fingers together, peering up at the giant Orc with nothing but love in your eyes. After all the months together, he still wasn’t used to the adoration in your eyes, “I…” He blushed, his chest turning pink as he reached up to rub at the back of his neck, “I love you too.” He confessed gruffly. You leaned up to give him another kiss and smiled brightly as Rakuh wrapped you tightly in his arms.

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a-libra-writes · 4 years

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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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ikeromantic · 3 years

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Premonition

An Ikemen Vampire fanfic featuring Leonardo and Nishtha. This is for @nishtharya from my 300 follower celebration.

It turned out longer than I intended - but I really had fun writing it and I hope you will enjoy reading it. Approx. 4000 words, fluff and ADVENTURE!

It was another busy day in the mansion. Leonardo promised his help to their mutual friend, an aspiring architect, and he and Nishtha spent the day poring over his designs to provide him with corrections and suggestions. They were having a lively discussion about one in particular, a private residence.

“It’s too dramatic at the entry,” Leo was saying, pointing to the wide archway and the sweeping roof line. “The shape of these doors, the window placement, it’s someone’s home. I think something more homey -”

Nishtha shook her head, sweeping her dark hair back from her shoulder. “No, no - I mean if it was my home, sure. But this is meant for drama. Especially that first impression. Art, sophistication, history . . .” She pointed out the similar elements. “Look here - the entry hall past the archway is almost like the narthex of a church, and beyond it, the interior balcony with two sweeping staircases and a stained glass ceiling. You can’t lead into that with something homey. The support beams alone make that impossible.”

Leonardo sighed. “Suppose you’re right, cara. I guess I just don’t like it much. The other designs are better. There’s more warmth to them.” He kicked back and set his feet on the table, pulling a cigarillo from his pocket.

“Well, you can tell him that when we bring these back to him.” She finished making her design notes in the margins and rolled up the thin paper drafts.

Leo grunted in reply as he lit and began to smoke. The sweet scent of tobacco drifted through the room.

Nishtha slid the drafts into a long, leather tube and stepped past Leonardo to grab her coat.

Leo took advantage of her distraction to curl an arm around her waist and pull her into his lap. He nuzzled her neck, placing warm little kisses from her ear down to her collar bone. “Why such a rush, cara? Let’s take a moment and reward ourselves for all that hard work.”

“But - the, the - waiting - ah,” it was impossible to think clearly when he was like this. His lips felt so good on her skin, and his breath tickled the hairs at the back of her neck.

“Mmm, and he can wait a little longer I think.” Leo grinned wickedly.

Nishtha decided this wasn’t a battle worth fighting. She melted into his embrace, turning her head to kiss him. Losing had never been so sweet. When he finally set her down, she rebuttoned her blouse and straightened her skirt.

Leonardo, damn him, looked perfectly unruffled. He stood and put on his coat. “Hurry up, cara. We’re going to be late.”

“I can’t imagine why,” she said wryly and scooped up the leather drafts case to follow him out the door.

The carriage dropped them off in a nice neighborhood, nothing too fancy but perfectly suited to the clerks and merchants that hurried along the sidewalks. They rang the architect, a young man named Emile. He was staying in Paris briefly before resuming his travels to study architecture. He knew Leonardo through his father, and the two of them had become friends.

Emile let them in. “It’s so good to see you both!” He shook Leonardo’s hand and went to give Nishtha a kiss on the cheek. Instead, he wound up catching her hand as she gave him a light punch to the belly - her favorite way to greet good friends. He’d barely touched her when she jerked back in surprise.

For the briefest moment, when Emile’s lips brushed her cheek, she saw a rain-drenched cobblestone road and a spinning carriage wheel suspended in the air. The momentary flash had an ominous feel and left her unsettled. She tried to smile. “Sorry. For a moment - I thought, I mean - I saw a bug. On the wall.”

Leonardo gave her a narrow-eyed glance but went along with it. “I saw it too, but it’s gone now.”

“I’m not surprised,” Emile chuckled. “This place isn’t exactly fine living. Hopefully the little fellow found his way outside and won’t turn up in my sock drawer.”

Still feeling anxious, Nishtha followed Emile and Leonardo upstairs. She began to feel a little better once they were seated and she had a hot cup of tea in hand. Maybe, she thought, I’m just overreacting. She’d gotten flashes of intuition before this - little warning feelings or gut instincts that something was wrong or to be careful. But nothing like a vision or a dream.

And if she was honest, there hadn’t been anything really terrible in that momentary flash anyway. It rained often and carriages did sometimes overturn.

“Nishtha? Are you alright?” Leonardo peered at her with concern in his warm amber eyes.

“Oh, I was just thinking. Did I miss something?”

Emile smiled. “I was just asking what you thought of the palatial design in my drafts. Leonardo thought it looked better in the sketches here,” he pointed at his sketch book, “than in the actual draft. Too much space he says.” The architect made a little moue of disappointment.

Nishtha smiled. “I actually liked it. I was thinking though . . .”

The three of them bent over Emile’s sketches and drafts, bouncing ideas off each other. She almost forgot her premonition until the architect took her hand in thanks as they stood to leave. The moment his hand enclosed hers, she was there. In the rainy street. Water streamed down the surface of an overturned coach and there, on the ground half beneath it, she saw Emile. His face was pale, turned up toward the rain. One arm sat at a crooked angle. She couldn’t tell if he was breathing or not.

Nishtha reached for him . . . and fell out of her seat.

Leonardo caught her in his arms and pulled her tight against him. His steady heartbeat and his solidity brought the moment back into focus. She was in Emile’s atelier. He was fine. He was sitting across from Leonardo with a worried expression wrinkling his brow.

“Cara, you look pale.” Leo studied her face, worry tensing the lines of his jaw and shoulders.

“I’m fine,” she replied and tried to stand, but Leonardo was having none of that. “I really am ok.” She smiled at him, pushing the vision’s anxiety away.

Emile watched her, looking almost as concerned as Leo. “I could call a doctor. It would only take a moment.”

“No. It really is ok. I just - for a second -” Nishtha debated whether or not to tell them about the vision. People didn’t really take these things seriously, she’d found. She really didn’t want to be laughed at.

“For a second?” Leo prompted.

Nishtha turned her head to look over at Emile. “Do you travel by carriage frequently?”

Emile nodded slowly. “Yes. That . . . seems an odd question, ma cherie. But yes, I do travel by carriage overland. Why?”

She kneaded the fabric of her skirt with clenched hands. “When you took my hand, I got a - a bad feeling about that.” She took a breath and lifted her chin. In for a penny, after all. “I think if you plan to go anywhere by carriage, at least in the near future, you should make other plans. Especially if it’s raining.”

The architect’s eyebrows rose as he puzzled over the unexpected advice.

“I know it seems like an odd thing to say, but I’ve learned to trust my instincts when I get these little . . . feelings.” Nishtha didn’t want to admit to a vision. Hopefully this was good enough.

Leonardo stroked her shoulders gently. “And this feeling is what surprised you? Here and in the hall?”

“Yes.”

He smiled. “Then Emile will promise to be very careful and to avoid carriages. Right, mon ami?”

Emile agreed, though he seemed reluctant. “I will do what I can. To ease your mind, hm?” And he avoided touching her again as she and Leonardo left.

Leo didn’t say a word about it on the long walk back. Instead, they talked about what Sebastian was making for supper and their plans to visit the coast when the weather warmed. They made it to the gate as the first, fat, warm rain drops began to fall from the cloudy late afternoon sky.

Nishtha looked back toward the city and hoped Emile took her warning seriously.

Theo and Arthur were on their way out as she and Leo went in.

Arthur took one look at her serious expression and tried to hurry past nervously - he’d been the recipient of her sharp tongue more than once when he pushed his flirting too far. But Theo stopped. “Something happen, hondje?”

Leo waited for Nishtha to speak, knowing without being told that this was her story to share - or not.

“Yeah. I’m just worried about Emile,” she told him after a moment.

“Anything I should look out for?” His blue eyes focused on her intently.

Nishtha shook her head. “I don’t think so. But, be careful out there tonight.”

“We will be the soul of caution,” Arthur quipped, tugging Theo out the door with him. “Toodaloo, luv.”

Leo slid an arm around her shoulders. “You know what I think we need?”

Nishtha looked up at him. His eyes were liquid gold, warm and sweet as caramel.

“A hot bath. Come on.” He scooped her up into his arms.

“Hey! Set me down,” she half-heartedly flailed. She wasn’t against the idea of a bath, but these things needed to be scheduled, or one of the other mansion residents would just walk in and - and -

“Nobody is going to walk in on us. Trust me.”

Nishtha poked his chest. “How did you know what I was thinking?”

Leo raised an eyebrow. His slow, wide smile and mischievous eyes said everything his words didn’t. He carried Nishtha to the baths and left her there with an order to undress and get in. Then he disappeared back up the stairs to “Make arrangements.”

Nishtha wasn’t averse to a hot soak, and by the time Leonardo stepped into the baths in his towel, she was up to her neck in the warm water.

“I missed the best part,” Leonardo laughed softly as he slid into the bath beside her.

“I didn’t.” She smiled at him. He was a gorgeous man, and seeing him in just a towel . . .

Leo stroked a finger along the edge of her jaw. “I think that blush is something besides the heat. What are you thinking about cara?”

Nishtha couldn’t help the way her pulse sped up at his touch, or the little flip her tummy did when she saw him like this. Five years or fifty, it wouldn’t matter.

The look in her eyes was all the response Leonardo needed. He pulled her into a kiss, his lips capturing hers, slow and sensual. His strong hands stroked her back, easing the day’s tensions better than the steamy water ever could. Passion built between them as the kiss deepened, lips parting, tongues tasting each other.

Breathless, Leo finally broke the kiss. His eyes were as hot as the thermae, filled with need. “Hadn’t planned on taking it that far,” he panted. “You do such things to my heart, cara.”

Nishtha was fairly sure she would be happy to do ‘such things’ to his body too, but he placed those large, sculptor’s hands on her shoulders and turned her around before she could get started. “What -”

“Just relax.”

That was an easy enough command to follow. Her back rested against his wide, muscled chest. There was something infinitely comforting about his embrace. Maybe his smell - that indefinable mix of sweet tobacco and Leonardo’s own musk. Or perhaps, just his comforting strength and steadiness. It just felt good to be held close.

Leo began to gently unpin her hair, taking it down from the bun she’d had it in all day. His long fingers combed the snarls from her hair. Light touches on her scalp, the back of her neck, and across her shoulders sent little shivers down Nishtha’s spine. A little gasp of pleasure escaped her lips as he kissed the spot just behind her ear.

It was as if time stopped, and the only Leonardo, Nishtha, and the warmth between them still existed. Her body thrummed with awareness of him. The way his chest moved against her back. The feel of his hips behind her. The brush of his legs against hers. And his hands. Oh gods. Everything fell away against that bliss. He coaxed pleasure from every nerve-ending, making the simplest touch sensual.

The sound of an awkward cough pulled them unceremoniously from their private world.

“Sebas?” Leo’s voice was thick and hoarse. He swallowed. “I was pretty sure I asked you to help me keep this private.” In one graceful motion, he moved to put Nishtha behind him.

She peered at Sebastian over Leonardo’s shoulder. Part of her was resentful of the interruption. But she knew he wouldn’t have come if there wasn’t something important.

“I am deeply sorry to bother you.” Sebastian looked mortified and kept his gaze on the wall rather than on the bathers. “But there is a panicked messenger at the door. From Monsieur Charles Andre?”

This brought Nishtha completely out of her relaxed state. “Emile’s father?”

Sebas nodded. “He was expecting a visit from his son this evening, but Emile never arrived. Monsieur Andre sent a servant out to fetch him, but apparently Emile is not home either. He came here to see if perhaps you knew where Emile might be.”

Leonardo went very still. Nishtha could feel the tension in his body, like a coiled spring. “We will be right there.”

Sebastian gave a slight bow and hurried out.

Nishtha felt a cold certainty that she knew exactly where Emile was. She didn’t want it to be true, but wishing didn’t change what was.

The lovers quickly exited the baths and dressed again.

“Cara . . .” Leonardo set a gentle hand on his compagna’s shoulder. “Take a breath. We will do what we can, yes?”

“Yes.” Nishtha nodded as Leo swept her into a hug. Then they went to meet the servant.

It was just as Sebastian had told them. Emile was late to meet his father and he wasn’t home - the servant also checked the usual roads between the father and son, but there was no sign of Emile.

“I had hoped,” the servant finished, “that I would find the young master here. But it seems you haven’t seen him either.”

“I might know where he is,” Nishtha offered. She didn’t have an address, but more like a feeling of him in a certain direction. A bit like playing hot and cold.

The servant gave a troubled smile. “Any idea is better than what I’ve got now.”

Leonardo instructed the man to go with Sebas and prepare the carriage. Then he sat down beside Nishtha. “Are you sure about this, cara mia? It isn’t exactly safe for us to be out on a night like this . . .” His eyes were troubled.

“I’m as sure as I can be.” She put her hand atop Leonardo’s. “I can’t stay here while Emile is lost. He could be hurt.” She knew he was, but didn’t want to say so.

After a moment spent searching her face, Leo nodded. “Alright. We will be very careful as we look for him.” He took her hand and kissed it. “Very careful. If something were to happen-” he cut himself off, unwilling to speak ill thoughts.

Nishtha leaned over and kissed his cheek. Sometimes even the immortal genius needed to be reassured.

They left out together, into the pouring rain. Leonardo held an umbrella over Nishtha’s head, but the rain fell so hard and so thick that water splashed up, wetting her from the ground. It would have been funny, if not for the palpable sense of worry between the three of them.

“Where are we headed, mademoiselle?” The servant looked so hopeful.

“That way,” Nishtha pointed without even thinking about it.

“I was . . . rather hoping for an address? Maybe some shop or street you know he frequents?”

Nishtha tried to remember anything from her vision that might help tell them where to go, but there wasn’t anything. She shrugged. “Something is better than nothing, right? I just know he’s that way.”

The servant told the carriage driver to move out, in the direction she’d pointed. He didn’t look all that happy about it.

They were silent as the carriage wheels clattered over paving stones. Slipping across runnels of water, sliding in splots of thick mud. The whole contraption wavered and shook from gusts of wind, and the windows leaked a steady stream of cold tears down the insides of the doors. The only words exchanged were Nishtha’s directions as she felt them, and the servant relaying it to the driver.

She felt they were close. Close enough that she asked for the carriage to slow even more so she could get a better feel for the direction. They were barely crawling along the empty roadway when there was a sudden lurch forward and a loud crack. Above them, the driver shouted. His voice was barely audible over the storm, but Nishtha thought he sounded angry.

Leonardo began to stand, his brow creased with concern, but the next jerking motion of the carriage put him back in his seat.

Something under the carriage groaned. Nishtha felt it in her bones and at the back of her eyes. A low, grinding sound that grew louder with each passing heartbeat. She looked at Leo, opened her mouth to ask what it might be. Then it shattered with a deafening crack. The carriage careened left, twisting, then falling on its side.

Mud and water oozed in from the cracked carriage door. The servant lay against it, eyes shut. Nishtha dangled above him, held up by one of Leonardo’s hands. He lowered her to her feet beside the servant.

“You alright, cara?” In the dim light, it was impossible to see his face, but his voice sounded worried.

“I’m ok, I think.” She took a shuddering breath and leaned down to check the servant. He was alive, but didn’t wake or make a sound when she touched him.

Leonardo sighed. “I knew it was a bad idea to come out here. I should have left you home at least - safe.”

“I’m not made of spun sugar. Besides, you wouldn’t be able to find Emile without me. We’re close to him now.” She tugged the servant up to a sitting position to keep his head out of the water.

“I’m going to check on the driver and horses,” Leo replied, ignoring her comment completely. “You stay here.”

He tugged open the door, sending a torrent of rain water into the carriage. It stopped when he closed it behind him.

Nishtha leaned back against the bench, uncomfortable and anxious. “Guess it’s just you and me. Unconscious guy and overprotected girlfriend.” It was impossible to ignore the feeling that Emile was nearby, and more, that he needed them to find him soon.

Though it was dark outside, and the storm was terrible, Nishtha decided she had to finish what she came for. With some effort, she climbed up and pushed the door open. Leonardo made it look easy when he stepped out, but the wind and rain pushed against it so hard, she almost got stuck. When finally did open, the world outside was nothing but sheeting water and shadows.

“Leo? Hey! Leonardo!” Nishtha shouted. She walked carefully along the edge of the carriage, following it up to the driver’s bench. It was empty, and so were the traces. No horse, no driver . . . and no Leonardo.

She knew Leo would tell her to get back in the carriage and wait. That was the safest thing to do. Maybe even the wisest thing . . . but sometimes, a girl has to follow her instinct. She tore a piece of lace trim off her dress and walked back to tie it on the carriage door in a perfect bow. That way when Leo came back, he’d know she left on purpose - and on her own. Then she set off into the storm, toward Emile.

Despite the violence of the storm, there was something beautiful about it. The howl of the wind over Parisian rooftops. The shine of wet paving stones in the flashes of lightning. The way water cascaded down lamp poles and created new rivers and streams from the roadways. It was a little harder to appreciate when you were soaked to the bone and half-blind, but still - it was there.

Nishtha tried to focus on that as every step took her further from Leonardo and the safety of the carriage. This wasn’t scary - and she was doing the right thing. A sudden gust of wind knocked her forward and she stumbled, stumbled and fell against something solid. Wooden.

She reached up to steady herself. Her hand found a wheel, turning slowly from the wind. Nishtha felt around her, realizing this was an overturned carriage. On its side, the horses and driver gone . . . had she turned in a circle? Her mind said yes, but that inner sense told her no. Trusting herself, she moved along the edge of the carriage slowly.

Her foot pushed up against something soft and soaking wet. It groaned.

Nishtha knelt, seeing more with touch than with her eyes. It was a person, a man, and his leg was trapped under the side of the carriage. “Emile? Is that you?”

“Wha - oh hells - p-please-” His voice was faint, but unmistakably the architect and artist she was searching for.

“Just - just wait here, ok? I came to help you.” Nishtha patted his hand and then stood up straight. She’d said she would help him, but how? “Leonardo? Leo! Hello! Anyone!”

No one answered. No one would be out in this weather on purpose - and even if they were, her words were lost in the storm.

It was Nishtha or nothing, she thought. “Emile, I’m going to try to move the carriage. Pull your leg out when I do,” she shouted to him.

“Leg - y-yes,” he groaned, shifting on the wet cobblestones.

Nishtha went to the edge of the carriage and tried to brace herself. She pushed, but it didn’t budge. Not a hair. She tried again, pushing until she saw little spots of light and color dance in her eyes - and this time, it did move a little. Not enough by far.

It felt absolutely unfair to have found Emile only to be helpless to rescue him, she thought. What would Leonardo do? Well, he would probably just lift the carriage because vampire. So . . . she paced around the carriage, ignoring the rain as she thought it out.

Leverage.

The thought struck like one of those lightning bolts. It didn’t take long to find a chunk of detritus to use as the fulcrum. It took a little longer to find a good stick though. One narrow enough to wedge under the carriage side but thick enough to *probably* handle the load.

Nishtha struggled it into place and then went to check Emile.

His breathing was shallow. His eyes were shut.

“Emile?” She poked his chest. “Emile! Wake up! I’m going to lift the carriage. You need to pull your leg out!”

Nothing.

She slapped his cheek lightly. “Emile!”

Nothing.

She slapped harder, hard enough that it stung her cold-numbed hand.

“Ah! Ow! I - I was - oh hells . . .”

“Emile, you need to pull your leg when the carriage lifts. Can you do that?”

The architect nodded.

“Good. Stay awake. Pull your leg out when you can.” She gave him a good shake and then went back to her lever. If this didn’t work, she wasn’t sure what else to try. Maybe wait for the water to rise high enough to float the carriage away. Nishtha almost laughed.

It was do or die time. She grabbed the end of the stick and put all her strength into tugging it to the ground. At first, it seemed like she wasn’t going to be able to get it to move. Nothing shifted and the lever creaked as she pulled. Then, slowly, it began to lower. And on the other side, the edge of the carriage rose.

Nishtha wanted to laugh but she didn’t have the breath to. She just kept pulling, then pushing, for all she was worth. “E-Emile! Pull! Your! Leg!” She didn’t think he could hear her over the storm. “Emile!”

She held as long as she could, until her muscles shook. Until her arms stopped aching and began to feel like hot-drawn glass. Then she let go and leapt back. The lever jerked up and the carriage fell down with a crash.

“Emile?” She ran to check on him and found him partially sitting up. He’d pulled his leg free - just like she told him to.

“Y-you were right. About. Carriages. Tried to walk and - and it got me . . . anyhow.” Emile panted.

“Don’t worry about that now. Can you stand? We need to get you out of the rain.” His skin was like ice, and his eyes were too round. He was shivering, in shock and half-drowned.

Emile tried to stand on his good leg, but couldn’t even get to his knees. Nishtha tried to help him, but she was spent. Her body rebelled against the notion of supporting even half the weight of a full-grown man.

She turned, casting about for some solution. Some idea. There had to be a way . . .

“Cara.” A single word from the tempest, and then she was pulled tight in an embrace. Leonardo’s chest was as wet and cold as everything else tonight, but he felt so good. For just a breath, she clung to him in relief.

“I found Emile. He’s over there-” she gestured toward the carriage. She couldn’t see it even from just these few steps away.

Leo laughed softly and pressed a kiss to her head. “You are so stubborn. But that is part of what I love about you. Come on. Let’s go get Emile.”

The found the architect just as she’d left him, barely holding himself up out of the rainwater. Leonardo lifted him up and together they walked two blocks over to an inn. This was where Leo had taken the driver and the servant. Both men were in beds upstairs, waiting on a doctor. And now Emile joined them.

Nishtha sat down at the bar and sipped at a brandy. It warmed her from the inside out and she finally stopped shivering. She was the only patron in the tavern area. Even the bartender was upstairs, seeing to the injured men.

Leonardo came up behind her and settled a thick quilt over her shoulders. “You are something else, cara. I still can’t figure out how you knew where to find Emile - or how you managed to move that carriage.” He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head.

“The carriage was easy - I just used a lever.” She pouted. “I told you how I knew about Emile.” No one ever believed her. She had hoped Leo might, but . . .

He spun her stool around to face him. “My clever beauty.” He patted her head, smoothing the tangles of her wet hair back. “I understood what you said. Just not how it works. I have so many questions.”

“So . . . you believe me?”

Leonardo nodded, his expression turning serious. “I never doubted you. I already trusted you with my heart. After that, this is a small thing.” He sat down and pulled her into his lap.

He felt so warm. Better than the brandy. And he’d believed her! The whole time. Nishtha snuggled against his chest.

“This reminds me of the work Comte and I did in metaphysical alchemy. I think it was 1673? No . . . maybe ‘74?” He stroked her back lightly as he talked.

The two of them fell into conversation as easily as apples from trees. If anyone had been in the tavern to hear them, it would have sounded like madhouse-chatter. Alchemy, philosophy, and religion from across centuries blending as if it belonged that way. And it did, just as Leonardo and Nishtha fit together.

#Ikemen Vampire #IkeVamp Leo #ikevamp leonardo #leonardo da vinci #otome guys #otome #fanfiction #fanfic #oc #mc #fluff

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killingkueen · 3 years

Text

Fic: Nooner

Summary: Belle wants to ask Gold something. It’s very important and can’t wait. Obviously. || A companion to Seeing Red, but you don’t need to have read it.

Rating: E (this is just porn); specifically mutual masturbation and a tiny bit of cum play

AO3 link

Thank you to the spectacular @paradigmparadoxical, who keeps the world turning.

OOO

“—but close enough in shape and color.”

“That’d be great! Honestly, whatever you have to do, you know? Mary would be devastated if nothing was salvageable.”

Belle closed the door behind her, the bell chiming merrily.

“A moment, dearie,” Gold called absently, bent over the display case inspecting whatever David Nolan had brought in. “Most of them aren’t,” Gold continued with David. “But if Mrs. Nolan doesn’t object to a couple glue lines on the ones that aren’t shattered, there shouldn’t be a problem.”

“That’s more than we expected, honestly.”

She hovered at the door, wondering if she should come back tomorrow—her lunch break was only so long—and perhaps she would have, if the view were different. Belle liked watching Gold in his element: behind his counter, the sun just missing him as it stretched across the floor of his shop. It left him in shadow, despite the lights overhead. He might not enjoy working with the public, but he was good at it, letting his knowledge and expertise guide him.

Gold wrapped the glass pieces back in the towel that David had brought them in, placing the bundle carefully in the shoebox. “I’ll dig around for the figurines I have,” he said. “They might be too small, but I have a few sources that would likely have more appropriate sizes. If it comes to that, I’ll call you with an estimate.”

“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it,” Belle could hear the relieved grin in David’s voice as he reached out a hand to shake Gold’s.

Gold’s lips twitched into a polite smile. He let go and turned to greet his new customer, finally spotting her.

“Miss French,” he said, voice deepening. His smile became no less placid, but he looked more present than moments ago, his eyes brightening. “What a surprise.”

“Hey,” Belle sighed, smiling in return. There was no way there was enough time left on her break—even taking the rest of the day off wouldn’t suffice.

David coughed, catching the changed air between them. “Well, now that I got the mobile squared away, I think I’ll be leaving. Thanks again, Gold.”

“You’ll be hearing from me,” he said automatically, eyes glued to Belle. He didn’t turn to watch David leave.

For that matter, Belle wasn’t inclined to do more than offer David a quick smile in goodbye when he passed her. She made quick work of flipping the closed sign and lock, before prancing up to the counter.

“Can you fit me in, Mr. Gold?”

“It’s quite short notice, Miss French. I’m afraid I have to charge a fee.”

“And what would that be?” she asked slowly. She relished the way his eyes trailed down to her lips.

“Nothing too steep, I hope,” he said, leaning forward.

Belle happily met him for a sweet peck. When they parted, she bit her lip. No, there was not enough time in the world with this man.

“Tea, sweetheart?” Gold asked.

“I was thinking lunch? Maybe? Eventually.”

He raised an eyebrow, gaze darting to his locked door.

Belle cleared her throat. “Let’s talk in the back.”

“Talk, hm?” There was the beginning spark of mischief in his eyes as he swept the curtain aside, holding it for her pass by him.

“Yes. Talk.” Belle put on her most stern face. It was hard to keep up when he was smirking like that, when he popped his hip as he stood in the backroom, waiting for her first move.

She cleared her throat. “So,” Belle began. “I want to see your—cock.”

She hoped she wasn’t blushing. It would be really silly if she were blushing, considering all the things they’d already said and done to each other. But Gold murmuring dirty things so sweetly into her ear while he moved in her felt vastly different when she tried to say the same things in the light of his backroom while they were still fully clothed.

Instead of cringing in secondhand embarrassment, Gold’s smirk deepened. “Do you, now?” He hooked his cane on the edge of the worktable and reached for her waist. Belle accepted the kiss, letting it deepen. She sucked his bottom lip until his wandering hands trailed to the zipper on her skirt.

Belle stepped away reluctantly, her hands running down Gold’s arms until she was loosely holding his hands—and it was with a huge amount of self-restraint that she didn’t abandon her plan right there and let him have his nefarious way with her.

“I mean, I want to actually see it.” Belle pushed her bottom lip out in a pout. Gold’s eyes strayed to her mouth longingly.

Gold turned their hands so his thumbs were rubbing circles into her wrists. The gentle movement belied his filthy smirk.

“You’ve seen me plenty,” he said.

“Yes, that’s true.” Belle trailed her eyes downward. “But, see, I had this completely random thought while I was doing something very important at the library,” she started.

“Reading on the job again, Miss French?”

“And,” she said, admitting nothing. “I realized I have never seen a hardening cock.” At least her voice was steady, even if she had to dart her eyes away from his face.

Gold gave her a blank look, his thumbs pausing.

“I’ve seen you hard, but never how you got there,” Belle elaborated.

“Huh.” Gold thought on that as she took a deliberate step back, his hands brushing against hers as they let go. She then took another, until she could lean against his work table.

“If that’s what you want, I suppose I have no reason to say no.” Despite his confusion, he started to work at his belt buckle, so that was something.

“It really is,” Belle said, toes curling as she watched.

He got as far as unzipping his trousers before asking, “Do you mind if I sit for this?”

“Not at all,” she said, but Gold was already limping to the cot. He waved away her help as he settled, slipping off his jacket and placing it carefully on the pillow. He unbuttoned his waistcoat, folding it on the jacket.

Next, he toed off his shoes, then toed them to the side so they wouldn’t get in the way. His fingers fidgeted with the top buttons of his shirt, not sure if that should go, too.

“The point is to be seen, yes?” He glanced at her, still against the table, but couldn’t hold her gaze. It dropped to his feet, and he focused on peeling off his socks instead.

“Do—do you not want to?” She thought they had gotten past his initial shyness; considering how often they’d seen each other naked, she thought this request would be easy.

Gold opened his mouth, but then seemed to think better of whatever he was going to say. “I guess you could say I’m not a fan of being scrutinized,” he finally admitted.

“I have already seen it,” she reminded him. “And I like how it looks when it’s hard. I only want to see how it gets there.”

“Do you?” Gold asked.

“Yeah,” Belle said. If Belle were to rank the aesthetic appeal of a human body, a penis would rank near bottom—dicks were strange and beyond the obvious use for them Belle never understood their appeal. Not that she saw the point in mentioning that.

She was still honest when she said: “It’s yours, that’s why I like it.”

Gold, thankfully, believed her; he undid the trouser button, and lifted his hips so he could slide them and his briefs down his thighs, letting them pool at his ankles.

He smiled at her, and it was less the filthy smirk of minutes ago than the tender melting of his eyes, a soft tilt at the corner of his lips. A wonder (a privilege, an honor), that such a small assurance from her was enough to get him to look at her like that.

It was really, really hard for Belle not to walk over and straddle him. It would be the work of moments to push her panties aside and sink onto him like a rock at the bottom of an ocean. She just had to remember she wanted to see this through more.

He spread his knees, welcoming her greedy eyes, but the tails of his silk shirt obscured his lap.

“You’re still hiding,” she accused.

He hid his grimace well with a smile that reached his eyes. Before Belle could offer an alternative, his hands were already sliding each button through the eyehole, and then his front was bared to her.

Gold was a slim man by nature, his thin frame hinting at a wiry strength. His skin was smooth and tanned, framed by the shirt he left hanging off his shoulders, open. He was welcome to leave it on; the purple was a good color on him.

Belle was too far away. If she was going to watch the show, she needed a front row seat. Slowly, as if to keep from spooking a wild animal, she crouched to her hands and knees. Crawling was the work of moments in the cramped space of the backroom. She stopped as she reached the cradle of Gold’s knees, her eyes never leaving his cock.

He made a noise in his throat at her approach, and his cock gave an interested twitch, but otherwise stayed very pink and very soft.

Gold blew out a breath of air from his nose. She watched as he ran one hand down his stomach, over his hips, then cupped his sac underneath. Before his other could grab hold of the shaft, Belle stopped him.

“No hands,” she ruled, tapping his knee until he let go of himself. “I can’t see.”

Gold frowned. “How do you think this works?”

“I don’t know. It just happens, right?”

“Sometimes, yeah,” he said, shifting his hips.

A few moments passed.

“Aw, does he not like being put on the spot?”

Gold snorted. “Keep staring like that, it’ll perk up.”

Belle regarded his nethers curiously. “Usually you get hard so quickly. You’re almost always ready to go by the time I get your clothes off. It’s actually quite flattering.”

“Happy to please,” he murmured.

Belle had never been this close to his flaccid member before. It wasn’t exactly shriveled, but it was limp like a deflated balloon, pillowed on his balls, head pointed down. It humored her to see that it fit quite neatly on top of his scrotum, the dick being a little narrower, a little shorter—like nesting dolls.

Her gaze broadened slightly, taking in his spread thighs, the hair he kept trimmed, the V of his hips that stood prominent, despite the rounding belly above. Belle knew exactly how the skin below his belly button tasted, knew how he’d jolt in pleasure if she cupped his sack in her hand or trailed two fingers behind to tease at his perineum.

“He is shy, isn’t he?” she said, her mouth feeling dry. She was getting impatient.

“Stop calling it a ‘he,’” Gold huffed, trying to smother his indulgent smile.

“Maybe I can help?”

“Your, ah, mouth, perhaps?” Gold said promptly, licking his lips. He spread his legs further, an invitation for her to settle between them.

It was a tempting offer. “I would feel it, not see it.”

A fascinating sensation, surely—to put her mouth on his soft cock and feel it harden, lengthening against her tongue. How different would his skin-warm flesh feel before the blood warmed it further? Would the heat of him burn her? And if she palmed his balls, if he thrust his hips, how long until he grew too big to fit completely in her mouth?

Belle leaned forward on her hands, watching him twitch. “Next time, definitely,” she promised.

“Your breasts, then,”

She realized then that she had him at a disadvantage, what with being fully clothed while Gold was very nearly naked. And that sent something through her, didn’t it, a heat that was as familiar as her hands. She was warm before, but now felt a blaze alight under her skin, right in her groin.

They could play with that later. Belle started to undo the buttons on her blouse, pulling at the fabric to release it from the waistband of her skirt. She’d leave it on though, like his was. Her bra was not front latching; she shrugged the straps down her shoulders, then pushed the cups down. She wished, not for the first time, that she was better endowed. Never would her breasts be described as being contained by her bras; they were comfortably blanketed.

From the look of rapture on Gold’s face, he didn’t mind. His hands were squeezing his knees, likely to keep from pulling her closer and ruining her game. His eyes were dark and hungry, focused entirely on her chest.

Belle bit her lip, cupping herself in her hands, pushing the mounds up and then together. At his groan of approval, she flicked her nipples with her thumbs. The welcoming pull that sent through her was almost enough to close her eyes, but she couldn’t forget her purpose.

Her eyes trailed down, back to Gold’s cock. Was it bigger than it was, moments ago? She pinched her nipples, pulling them out, then pushing in, leaning into the movement. The jolt was deeper than her belly; she could feel it right in her cunt. She couldn’t keep her mouth from opening in a silent gasp of pleasure, but her eyes stayed focused on Gold.

And there, finally—he began to swell, his cock growing and lifting off his balls as it filled with his hot blood. Slowly, it came to swing between them, long and hard. If he gave his length a pull or two (with a slight twist at the head that she knew he favored), maybe it would fall back against his belly, sitting as he was.

And wasn’t that an idea.

“Did you know erections produced from oral sex are longer than erections without?” she asked without thinking.

His answering laugh was surprised, short. His eyes, still dark, still heated, melted somewhat into a look of complete adoration.

“If you want it longer, by all means,” he panted.

Belle hummed, eyes scanning up and down his length carefully. The skin was flushed like the sky at sunset; the tip darker than the peach at the base.

“You’re already perfect,” she decided, leaning forward to press a sweet kiss to the tip. Her tongue flicked over him, teasing inside his slit.

His hips twitched, and he released a rush of breath at the contact that turned into a moan of disappointment when instead of taking him into her mouth, she leaned back on her heels.

Belle gave him an encouraging smile, mischief dancing in her eyes. “Go on, then.”

He looked at her blankly. “What?”

“I want to watch.”

“Watch what?”

“What do you think?”

She hadn’t had a plan when she first walked into the shop. Nothing concrete beyond asking for what he so delightfully just delivered. But the view was too good to pass up, and ordering him around sent such a delicious thrill down her spine. Belle settled back on her heels, expectant.

Gold’s throat bobbed. His hand loosely gripped his shaft. He took to this request with a surprising but welcomed ardor.

“There’s lotion. In that drawer." He nodded to the cabinet by his chair.

“Unscented?” she teased, slipping off her heels before standing up. She didn’t trust herself to walk in a straight line in this state.

She found the bottle near the front, brandishing it proudly when she turned back to face him. “The question is—” she started.

While she was digging through the drawer, Gold had freed his ankles from his trousers, his shoulders and arms from his shirt. He now sat bare and hard on the cot. Belle froze—couldn’t help but stare.

“Take a picture,” he teased. “It’ll last longer.”

“Maybe I should,” Belle murmured. “Give me something to keep me warm when you leave me cold and alone in my apartment.”

Gold whined. He held his hand out for the lotion, and when Belle gave it to him, he grasped her hand in his, turning it so he could press a hard, needy kiss to the palm of her hand.

“I love your cock,” Belle said, getting comfortable at his feet. “I don’t tell you enough, just how much.”

He whined again, fumbling with the bottle. When he was lubed, he wasted no time wrapping a hand around himself. To Belle’s delight, he started slow, with firm strokes. His other hand cupped his balls, fondling himself as he stared at her with open want.

“It’s so hard and thick. I love how it feels in my hand, how it tastes in my mouth.” The words came much easier than before. Gold leaned forward slightly, desperate to hear them. “And especially my wet, hungry cunt.”

Belle was wiggling her hips before she realized she had started tweaking her nipples again. Fuck, but she wanted him so much. She could feel the moisture that had seeped into the gusset of her panties.

She spread her legs wider, giving herself more purchase to run her hand up and down her thighs and then hike up her skirt. As Gold twisted his hand at his tip, she pushed her panties aside so she could swirl her fingers through her moist curls.

Gold’s grip was firm as his hand gripped his cock and he pumped it a little faster up and down, watching Belle the entire time. “Fuck, Belle,” he moaned when she used two of her fingers to open her cunt lips, showing him how wet he made her.

Smooth and musky, she could smell her scent mixing with his, and she inhaled deeply, wanting more of it.

He squeezed his erection, hand tightened on his balls, and Gold watched, rapt, as Belle slipped a finger inside of herself, where she desperately wanted him; his fingers, his tongue, his hard cock.

He was leaking precum, could see it glistening on his fingers. She pictured him sliding against her labia, how it felt to grind against his shaft. Her thumb pressed gently across her hard clit, finger pinching and twisting her nipple. She watched his hand work himself, matching his pace as she added another finger.

“Belle, love,” he panted in answer, stroking himself harder and faster, listening to her sweet moans as she brought herself closer and closer to orgasm. She knew he was close, could almost see his cum boiling in his sac.

Gold’s eyes stayed trained on her cunt, to the gushy slide of her fingers and fuck, she can practically feel herself dripping on his hardwood floor. She gasped, cunt squelching at the image of making him lick it up.

She made a sound, drawn out and low, as her fingers curled in her just there. She desperately tried to keep her eyes open, to keep watching as Gold fisted his cock, and she nearly succeeded. Wave after wave rushed through her, and she felt electric and loved and beautiful. With a final gasp, she fell forward, catching herself on Gold’s good knee.

His movement had slowed at her orgasm, but picked up with a frenzy when she sucked her fingers into her mouth with a happy hum.

“Belle, please,” he cried, desperate. “Please, fuck.”

“Anything,” she promised, looking up at him with hooded eyes, mouth already watering at the thought of swallowing him down.

“Your chest,” he said. “Please, please, may I?—”

Belle blinked, surprised, but straightened enough so she could settle in front of his frantic hand. His eyes were glued to her tits as she bared herself, making sure her shirt and bra were out of the way.

The first ropey splash at her collar bone made her toes curl, the warmth surprising her more than it should. The second, the third, accompanied by a low groan. Gold squeezed his cock in one hand, cradled his scrotum in the other, making sure every last drop was wrung from him.

Belle felt the cum cool even as it dripped down her chest, but she wasn’t paying much mind to it, not when the lines had disappeared around his mouth, when he was so lovely and content, the sweat making his hair stick to his face.

Their eyes caught, and he smiled. Belle let the laughter burst from her, and she ran her hands up and down the insides of his thighs, kissing his knee.

She was probably hours late to the library. Her clothes were disheveled and if she got cum on her shirt she was going to die of embarrassment, but she didn’t care. She was laughing with the man she loved, who loved her back.

“This is called something,” she said, when her laugh subsided. Her cheeks hurt from smiling, her knees felt a little raw from kneeling unprotected. She felt better than she had all week.

“Ah, a necklace, of some sort.” His hands found hers on his thighs. He laced their fingers together.

“Opal necklace, was it?”

“Pearl, I think,” Gold said. The crow's feet at his eyes crinkled. It suited him, this contentment. The blush of his orgasm was clearing up, his cock drooping down again, yet he kept the rosy glow, the liquid adoration in his eyes.

“That’s right,” she murmured. With her finger, Belle smeared some of the mess across her collar bone, careful to miss her blouse. “You’ve given me a pearl necklace.”

It was getting tacky. It’d dry soon. She wondered what it would feel like to have to peel it off her skin. She had to admit, the image was a lot less fun than how it was put there.

Gold watched her fingers, chest rumbling with a sound that wasn’t quite a growl. “I’ll buy you real pearls. As many as you want.”

He’d look at her the same, she knew; whether she was spread out on a bed wearing nothing but a dozen strings of pearls, or here in the back of his shop with her shirt hastily opened, her skirt hiked up around her hips.

“I’d rather you make me dinner,” Belle decided. She pushed herself up just enough to press a kiss to the side of his mouth.

With an anchoring hand on the back of her neck, he took her hand—the one she’d used to finger herself, the one smeared with his cum—brought it to his lips and sucked them into his mouth.

Belle could only sigh in approval as his tongue licked her clean. When he finished, he placed an open-mouthed kiss below her collarbone, sucking in her skin, their moans mingling as he cleaned her there, too.

Soon her chest was wet and sticky with his saliva and what cum he hadn’t licked up. She was quite pink, too, from his love bites. With a final kiss over her heart, Gold reached over to his suit jacket so he could pull the handkerchief from the front pocket and started in on the mess still on her chest.

“No, you’ll ruin the silk,” Belle protested half-heartedly.

Instead of answering, he flashed her a crooked smile.

“I’m making fish tonight. With broccoli and potatoes. You should come.”

“But it’s your week with Bae.” She hadn’t been serious about dinner, at least not immediately so.

“The lad should get used to you being around, don’t you think?”

“I don’t think he likes me much,” she said, chewing on her lip.

“He doesn’t know you well, is all.” He kissed her temple. “You tend to flitter off every time he shows up. He thinks you’re avoiding him.” Anxiety had creeped into the corner of his eyes, dimming the warmth.

“I’m trying to respect his boundaries,” she said weakly.

She liked Bae; it was hard not to. But she was also keenly aware that Gold was the stable parent, and that the life of a single father and his teenaged son might not always have room for her. But perhaps that was a tad short-sighted. There would never be room for her if she didn’t stick around long enough to get comfortable.

“Come to dinner, Belle.”

She hummed. “What kind of potatoes?”

“Roasted,” he said. He kissed her below her jaw. “With garlic and herbs.”

“And for dessert?” she asked, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, skin still bared and warm.

“I’m sure we’ll think of something when Bae goes to bed.” He caught her mouth in a kiss, swallowing her laugh as it bubbled from her chest.

#rumbelle fic #rumbelle #smut

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mab1905 · 3 years

Text

More Fitzjames content? Yeah... here’s a playlist for ya’ll...

These are songs which I think describe him at different points in his character developement or simply different aspects of his personality. Somewhat James/Crozier (Fitzier) but all about James.

(25 songs, 1 hour 33 min)

Song List + Most Character-Relevant Lyrics:

Fancy — Orville Peck

We didn't have money for food or rent / To say the least, we was hard pressed / Then Mama spent every last penny we had / To buy me a dancin' dress / Mama washed and combed and curled my hair / And she painted my eyes and lips / Stepped into a satin dancin' dress / That had a slit in the side clean up to my hips / It was red velvet trim, and it fit me good / Starin' back from the lookin' glass / There stood a woman where a half-gown boy had stood / ... / It sounded like somebody else that was talkin' / Askin', "Mama, what do I do?" / She said, "Just be nice to the gentlemen, Fancy / They'll be nice to you" / "Here's your one chance, Fancy, don't let me down / Here's your one chance, Fancy, don't let me down / Lord, forgive me for what I do / But if you want out, well, it's up to you / Now don't let me down now / Your mama's gonna move you uptown"

gold rush — Taylor Swift

What must it be like / To grow up that beautiful? / With your hair falling into place like dominos / ... / At dinner parties / I call you out on your contrarian shit / And the coastal town / We wandered 'round had never / Seen a love as pure as it / And then it fades into the gray of my day old tea / 'Cause you know it could never be

The Name Of The Game — ABBA

Your smile, and the sound of your voice / And the way you see through me / Got a feeling, you give me no choice / But it means a lot to me / So I wanna know / What's the name of the game?

Spectrum — Florence + The Machine

And when we come for you / We'll be dressed up all in blue / With the ocean in our arms / Kiss your eyes and kiss your palms / And when it's time to pray / We'll be dressed up all in grey / With metal on our tongues / And silver in our lungs / ... / And when we come back we'll be dressed in black / And you'll scream my name aloud / And we won't eat and we won't sleep / We'll drag bodies from the ground / So say my name / And every colour illuminates / And we are shining / And we'll never be afraid again

Dreamy Bruises — Sylvan Esso

How can we question / What we knows feels right / Black eyes turn to marigolds / In the morning light / Ohweeohweeoh kids move so slow / Shaken all over like some dogs at the pool / Ohweeohweeoh kids move so slow / They’re kicken all the records over acting like they hanging water / Ohweeohweeoh kids move so slow / Down in the basement where the sun don't show / Ohweeohweeoh kids movie so slow / Naked dollars wonder piles dreamy bruises rotten lovers / And they say I want you / To bend me back in two / To make me sing your tune / To make those words so smooth / Fill me like a song do

Wolf — Sylvan Esso

But no birds nor beast does he eat / He only wants the tenderest meat / And oh the sounds he makes them speak / Under all different patterns of sheets / ... / The modern wolf, the modern wolf / Drippin' in all the lives that he took / He'll go on home, try to wash them off / But when he shaves, he hears them call

Francis Forever — Mitski

On sunny days I go out walking / I end up on a tree-lined street / I look up at the gaps of sunlight / I miss you more than anything / I don't need the world to see / That I've been the best I can be, but / I don't think I could stand to be / Where you don't see me / And autumn comes when you're not yet done / With the summer passing by, but / I don't think I could stand to be / Where you don't see me

James — MGMT

James / If you need a friend / Come right over / Don't even knock / And I'll be home / The door is always open / And we both can say, "Who's laughing now?" / Oh, James / My little doll / You just go outside and you call / Oh, James / Oh, you're never too far off / If your fire's out / There's no need to shout / I'm always home / And walk on in / I'll make you tea and breakfast / And we both can say, "Who's laughing now?"

South London Forever — Florence + The Machine

I drive past the place that I was born / And the places that I used to drink / Young and drunk and stumbling in the street / Outside the Joiners Arm's like foals unsteady on their feet / With the art students and the boys in bands / High on E and holding hands with someone that I just met / I thought it doesn't get / Better than this / There can be nothing better than this / Better than this / And we climbed onto the roof, the museum / And someone made love in the glass / And I'd forgot my name / And the way back to my mother's house / With your black cool eyes and your bitten lips / The world is at your fingertips / It doesn't get better than this / What else could be better than this? / Oh, don't you know I have seen / I have seen the fields aflame / And everything I ever did / Was just another way to scream your name

Oh! You Pretty things — David Bowie

I think about a world to come / Where the books were found by the Golden ones / Written in pain, written in awe / By a puzzled man who questioned / What we work here for / All the strangers came today / And it looks as though they're here to stay / Oh You Pretty Things (Oh You Pretty Things) / Don't you know you're driving your / Mamas and Papas insane / Oh You Pretty Things (Oh You Pretty Things) / Don't you know you're driving your / Mamas and Papas insane / Let me make it plain / You gotta make way for the Homo Superior

Venus As A Boy — Björk

His wicked sense of humor / Suggests exciting sex / His fingers they focus on her and touches / He's Venus as a boy / ... / All across your lips, oh, then until / Well be that it's a little now, until / He believes in a beauty / He's Venus as a boy / He believes in a beauty and gentle

Winds Change — Orville Peck

Had a lover but I lost my patience / Gonna get a song on a radio station / Got a fire but you just can't use it / I don't mean no lies, baby, please don't lose it / Lost my way on the other side / I know why, I don't know when / From the way that we said goodbye / I knew I'd never see you again / Left my mind in the Salt Lake City / Met a lot of men who would call me pretty / Pack of reds, watch the days get colder / Don't it make you cry, how we're getting older?

Fluorescent Adolescent — Arctic Monkeys

Oh the boy's a slag / The best you ever had / The best you ever had is just a memory / And those dreams weren't as daft as they seem / Not as daft as they seem / My love, when you dream them up... / Flicking through a little book of sex tips / Remember when the boys were all electric? / Now when she's told she's gonna get it / I'm guessing that she'd rather just forget it / Clinging to not getting sentimental / Said she wasn't going but she went still / Likes her gentlemen not to be gentle / Was it a Mecca dauber or a betting pencil? / Oh the boy's a slag / The best you ever had / The best you ever had is just a memory / And those dreams weren't as daft as they seem / Not as daft as they seem / My love, when you dream them up / Falling about / You took a left off Last Laugh Lane / Just sounding it out / But you're not coming back again.

Cheerleader — St. Vincent

I've had good times / With some bad guys / I've told whole lies / With a half smile / Held your bare bones / With my clothes on / I've thrown rocks / Then hid both my arms / I've played dumb / When I knew better / Tried so hard / Just to be clever / I know honest thieves / I call family / I've seen America / With no clothes on / I don't know what I deserve / But for you I could work / Cause I don’t want to be a cheerleader no more

Queen Bitch — David Bowie

She's so swishy in her satin and tat / In her frock coat and bipperty-bopperty hat / Oh God, I could do better than that / Oh, yeah / She's an old-time ambassador / Of sweet talking, night walking games / Oh and she's known in the darkest clubs / For pushing ahead of the dames / If she says she can do it / Then she can do it, she don't make false claims / But she's a queen and such a queen / Such a laughter is sucked in their brains / Now she's leading him on / And she'll lay him right down / Yes, she's leading him on / And she'll lay him right down / But it could have been me / Yes, it could have been me

Boys Keep Swinging — David Bowie

Heaven loves ya / The clouds part for ya / Nothing stands in your way / When you're a boy / Clothes always fit ya / Life is a pop of the cherry / When you're a boy / When you're a boy / You can wear a uniform / When you're a boy / Other boys check you out / You get a girl / These are your favorite things / When you're a boy / Boys / Boys / Boys keep swinging

Caterpillars (Of The Common Wealth) — Will Connolly

You know you'll always be my valentine / Now swear to god that you will never tell / They're streaming every indiscretion live / For caterpillars of the commonwealth / Gotta go / You can stay / Make yourself at home / Gotta go / This campaign / Don't run itself you know / You've got potential little parasite / I tie your hands so i can wish you well / Cuz i'm a gentleman and you are like / A caterpillar of the commonwealth / Gotta go / I said no / You need to know your role / Gotta go / I said no / It's all under control

Imposters (Little By Little) — The Fratellis

You wear your mask, I'll wear mine / They don't come cheap, but they fit just fine / You can be her and I can be him / We can both sink when the rest all swim / ... / We can pretend that our fates were entwined / A beautiful lie is the beautiful kind / Everybody knows that the sun still sets / And everybody gives and everybody gets / ... / I could be the one that you just can't shake / Till you swear that your eyes go blind / We can disappear till the sun burns a hole / In the life that we left behind

Sweet Painted Lady — Elton John

I'm back on dry land once again / Opportunity awaits me like a rat in the drain / We're all hunting honey with money to burn / Just a short time to show you the tricks that we've learned / If the boys all behave themselves here / Well, there's pretty young ladies and beer in the rear / ... / Forget us we'll have gone very soon / Just forget we ever slept in your rooms / And we'll leave the smell of the sea in your beds / Where love's just a job and nothing is said

Super Trouper — ABBA

Super trouper beams are gonna blind me / But I won't feel blue / Like I always do / 'Cause somewhere in the crowd there's you / ... / So I'll be there when you arrive / The sight of you will prove to me I'm still alive / And when you take me in your arms / And hold me tight / I know it's gonna mean so much tonight

Babooshka — Kate Bush

She sent him scented letters / And he received them with a strange delight / Just like / His wife / But how she was before the tears / And how she was before the years flew by / And how she was when she was beautiful / She signed the letter / All yours...

Paris is Burning — St. Vincent

I write to give word the war is over / Send my cinders home to mother / They gave me a medal for my valor / Leaden trumpets spit the soot of power / They say, "I'm on your side / "When nobody is, 'cause nobody is / "Come sit right here and sleep / "While I slip poison in your ear" / We are waiting on a telegram / To give us news of the fall / I am sorry to report / Dear Paris is burning after all

Dream of Sheep — Kate Bush

Oh I'll wake up to any sound of engines / Every gull a seeking craft / I can't keep my eyes open / Wish I had my radio / I'd tune into some friendly voices / Talking 'bout stupid things / I can't be left to my imagination / Let me be weak, let me sleep and dream of sheep / Ooh, their breath is warm / And they smell like sleep / And they say they take me home / Like poppies, heavy with seed / They take me deeper and deeper

Hunger — Florence + The Machine

At seventeen, I started to starve myself / I thought that love was a kind of emptiness / And at least I understood then, the hunger I felt / And I didn't have to call it loneliness / ... / Tell me what you need, oh, you look so free / The way you use your body, baby, come on and work it for me / Don't let it get you down, you're the best thing I've seen / We never found the answer but we knew one thing / ... / And it's Friday night and it's kicking in / In that pink dress, they're gonna crucify me / Oh, and you in all your vibrant youth / How could anything bad ever happen to you? / You make a fool of death with your beauty, and for a moment / I forget to worry

#Spotify #fanmix #gay #fanwork #playlist #i have a crippling addiction to making playlists #james fitzjames #fitzier #francis crozier #francis rawdon moira crozier #Jim fitzjimmy #james fitzjames + gender = ? we dont know her #spotify playlist

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