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int-writersmind · 4 months

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I Hate Christmas, Peter Parker {Part 3}

Peter Parker x f!Reader

It’s simple: You don’t see what the big fuss is all about surrounding Christmas, but Peter Parker thinks that this is unacceptable and puts you through the last of a multiple step list to make you fall in love with the holiday.

{Read Part 1}

Warnings: Fluff,

Word Count: 1.8k

Authors Note: In order to get this out today, this is not well edited. I will fix it soon.

Peter rarely spent the night, often heading back into the city after a few hours of sleep. But this morning, a shirtless, sleeping vigilante was a welcome sight in your bed. You very carefully climb out of bed, limbs slowly reaching over Peter’s body.

You were just starting to prepare your coffee when Peter shuffled out your bedroom, dressed only in his underwear and messy hair. “What if breakfast in bed was on the list?” Peter comes up next to you, kissing your cheek as he goes to pour his cup.

“Please,” You smile slyly as his arm wraps around your lower waist. “You don’t need Christmas to do that.”

“Yeah I know, but I do have something for today.”

“Really?

“Yeah and I know at first you’re gonna hate it, but I promise that at the end–”

“I’ll love it so much that my heart will grow ten times it’s size.” You interject.

Peter glares at you before downing his drink. “Trust me ok?”

Peter stands there arms folded. “And will Peter Parker go out in his Spidey cosplay or birthday suit?”

It takes Peter a second before he notices his current situation. “I left some stuff here right?”

You think for a moment before taking another sip of your drink. “Yeah, but I think you have to borrow one of the coats.”

You found yourself standing in the cold of Bryant Park. You felt your cheeks start to turn red by the time Peter found you. He was in a nice dark blue pea coat, jeans and sneakers. He kisses you on the cheek before looping your arm in his. “Ready?”

“I want to say yes, but I don’t know what I’m agreeing to.”

“Fair enough,” Peter leads you through the sitting area, towards the temporary winter village that is always set up during the holiday season. A crowded place with overpriced items, tourists and gullible natives. It had its charms but it mostly had drawbacks. “What I’m proposing is a full day filled with Christmissy fun, but in an appetizer style, since we don’t have that much time.”

That was an understatement, it was less than a week till Christmas, so everything was sent into overdrive and increasingly more busy. It was so busy that it was a struggle for the two of you to fit down the rows of little shops. You tried your best to put on a face that didn’t imminently give away how much you hated all of this.

“As much as I like spending time with my adoring boy-toy, a full, uninterrupted day together seems unlikely” You gently squeeze Peter’s hand to get him to look at you. “It’s not like you can just up and ignore your other job.”

As the two of you reach the end of one row, a stand that was giving out free samples of warm cider. You wince as you take a sip, Peter gives you a reluctant smile. “I think that NYC's finest can keep the city safe today.”

You give him a look.

“Listen if things get that bad then I’ll go…and only then.” Peter finishes his drink before taking yours and finishing it right there.

“Fine Parker, let’s try to enjoy this day.”

As the two of you slowly shuffled your way through Bryant Park Winter Village, You settle on buying one thing from a booth with monogrammed Christmas stockings. You try to hide your smiling face from it, but Peter quickly catches a photo of you with his camera you didn’t realize he brought with him

After the initial snap you jokily start posing. Peter indulges with one extra, you sticking out your tongue.

There was only one close call, when some sirens caused Peter to snap his head in that direction. You place a hand on his arm, giving him an understanding glance. Peter takes your hand in his. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily” he says.

Peter grabs your hand and leads you to a PhotoBooth where the two of pose for pictures. One with you kissing him on the cheek, another where you both cross your eyes and make stupid faces, a third where you guys make a threatening faces, hands up ready to fight and, lastly a genuine smile because why not. You collect your photos from the outside after spending way too much on them and choosing a festive border (Peter’s choosing). “God these are actually more expensive than I remember." You say.

"Same, anyway, let's head to the next place." Peter says.

So your plan is for us to just stare at Radio City?” you say, as you stand across the street, watching patrons line up and enter the building.

“Well, did you want to watch the show?” Peter asks.

“Oh no.”

Some nearby buskers start playing Christmas songs, as the two of you start walking down the sidewalk. “The real reason behind this was that Radio City is just on our way to our next place, just thought you would get some residual Christmas magic.”

You just shake your head and pull Peter closer to you, arms linked with one another. You guys continue to walk down the sidewalk as the buskers continue their show. Instead of just walking by like every New Yorker, he slows down, forcing the pair of you to join the small cluster that has surrounded the performers. Peter takes off his camera and hands it to you as he goes and joins some people dancing to the music.

You giggle quite loudly, trying to cover your face with your hand. You pick up the camera, lining up your eye to the viewfinder. Using some basic camera skills that Peter taught you one date night , you snap a photo of Peter locking arms with a random passerby, dancing in a circle.

When Peter notices you and the camera he unlocks from the stranger and grabs on to you. The two of you sing and dance to the music all the way to the end of the song, you carefully holding the camera in your hand.

At the end of the song, with a scatter round of applause, the two of you stand close to one another, breathing heavily from the erratic dance moves. “So did I get through that ice cold, Christmas hating heart?”

You crinkle your nose, “Maybe just a crack.”

The last location was ice skating at Central Park, and as the two of you got there the sun was beginning to get low, casting a warm amber glow on a cool day becoming an even chiller night.

Peter was a wobbly mess, like a newborn giraffe who was born with ice blades on his hooves. You somehow were a graceful ice princess, spinning circles around him, almost as if all those causal visits to the ice skating rink in high school were actually worth the price of admission. “Oh come on Petey! You’re telling me you can walk on synthetic webs the size of tightropes but can’t handle some ice and blades?”

“I don’t see how that applies to this situation.”

You brake in front of him, before offering him your hands, taking his and leading him forward while you skate backwards. “Balanced babe, it’s all about balance.”

After a few strides, and with your help, Peter was able to finally pick it up. Letting go one of your hands, using the other to spin you in a circle before pulling you back to him.

The two of you skate for a few minutes in silence, people watching , families, friends, couples. You catch yourself smiling at these people, but do nothing to get rid of it.

Snowflakes start to fall from the sky, you notice them first falling on a middle-aged couple as the two of you pass by, and as children cast their gaze upwards trying to catch the flakes on their tongue, you mimic them as well. Letting your tongue stick out, catching a few cold drops. Was it childish? Yes? Unsanitary? 100%, but it was fun to indulge.

Click, another photo, you turn your head towards Peter who’s smiling, “Good picture?” You ask.

“Always.”

And at the end of the day, Peter walks you back to your apartment building, and back to your apartment, through the door, lips crashing into one another, bodies bumping into the Elf on the Shelf, hands getting lost in each other's hair. Before anything else can happen, a flurry of police sirens go by your windows, more than typical in the city, a potential big deal.

You lay on the couch, half supporting yourself as you watched Peter contemplating his next move. He looks at you, almost asking permission, “Go ahead Spider-Boy.” He smirks back but before he gets changed you pull him to the couch, lips close to his. “But don’t think I don’t remember your promise you made to me for going through all this.”

Peter smiles, “Of course.”

A few moments later you watch as Spider-Man jumps out your window, sitting by for a few seconds longer before getting up from the couch and picking up the Elf on the Shelf. “Count yourself lucky you didn’t get scared tonight.” You say that thing.

Epilogue

The light from the christmas tree was the only thing that illuminated your apartment, Peter and You sat on your couch handing each other presents. You came home after a long Christmas day with your parents (at the suggestion of Peter.), it wasn’t as unbearable as you thought it would be. The old folks kept the arguments to a minimum, Mom made some delicious cookies, and Dad gave you some cash to help pay your bills. It was low-key and not in your face Hallmark movie feeling—just how you like it. Peter and You agreed to meet up at your place after he came back from visiting May, to spend the evening together and give presents to one another.

“No, you have to admit it!” Peter said quite loudly, holding your present hostage in his arms.

“Ugh, no I will not!” You roll your eyes, falling back on the couch before sitting back up. “It was just a dumb little game–”

“A dumb little game that I won.”

“Won? Wow, that's an overestimate of events.”

“Oh please,” Peter says, he hands you the present. “Open this and maybe you’ll change your mind.”

You glance at Peter before opening the box. Inside, tissue paper, you remove that and see a photobook– To Little Miss I Hate Christmas, Peter, written on top. You flip through the pages, photos from various moments this month, some you remembered and others you forgot about. A picture of you in front of your favorite coffee shop, another of you from behind looking at your Christmas tree, another where you held the peace sign up in front of an unlit tree, and lastly some photos from your super packed day. You look up at Peter, a smile creeping on your face. “Oh Peter, I love it. Wait, quickly open mine.”

You hand Peter your present, bringing a hand to your mouth, biting on your nails. You watch slightly nervous as Peter rips the paper off, opening the package– A camera strap with embroidered spiders hidden throughout. “This is great.” Peter says.

“Are you sure? Not on the nose?”

“Of course not, it’s wonderful” Peter leans over and kisses you on the lips. “What about your present? You are a believer now.”

Your grip on the book is a little tighter now, “Well I won’t say that Christmas is now my all time favorite holiday but…it’s…more bearable with you around.”

Peter just smiles at you, “Now that was corny.”

“Shut up!” you throw the pillow at him. “You liked it, I know you did.”

“And I couldn’t ask for a better ending.”

Hey, thanks so much for reading till the end. This wasn't really how I wanted the series to come out but I still had fun. Anyway happy holidays and come back for a new year's gift???

#peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker #peter parker x you #christmas fic #christmas fanfic #spider man fluff #spider-man fluff #spider-man fic #spiderman fic #spider man fic #spiderman fluff #christmas spider-man #Spotify

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soletlunasims · 1 year

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After college, Chip quickly found a job as a Scientist and spent his days inventing new devices and studying space. Chip believed there was other life out there and so he also spent time secretly trying to contact aliens. (Since I have done the NSB challenge before, I am playing this family a bit more loosely. Basically just making them max out their career and doing their aspiration with no other goal. So we didn't finish the elements collection and I stopped going to work with him after I got the satellite 😂)

Chip believed but he also didn't want to seem crazy and lose his job. He would work days and spend nights outside hoping to find proof. Caleb growing increasingly worried of his fiancees weird behaviors.

Then one day....

It finally happened, the proof he was so desperately after. He didn't know what to do with himself. He had to find a way to repeat this phenomenon for proof. He would be reveled as a 'Hero of Science' he thought. He spent all of his extra time trying to document as much tangible proof as he could. During this time, he was abducted several times. He couldn't count how many, simply for the fact that the Aliens were far more advanced then him and as hard as he tried to remember anything that happened when he was taken, he could barely remember being taken and returned in the first place. Some sort of alien technology preventing him from keeping any mental record of what was happening aboard their vessel. Chip kept trying to get something that could serve as concrete evidence that aliens were real and that they were here and possibly among us. But he started feeling unwell and was not sure if he could continue his research. He started calling into work and staying in bed for hours at a time. He thought maybe he was dying. Maybe he had some illness that passed through the EA spaghetti code as a bug (we are gonna get meta here from time to time lol) and he was unlucky enough to get it with no doctor knowledgeable enough to help him. Months passed and things got weird. He started feeling better in some ways but worse in others. He no longer felt like he was sick with some terminal illness but rather, he felt as if there was a parasite that was possibly using him as a host. He had a constant full feeling and weird stomach spasms and he was getting bigger by the day. It was almost as if he was.....👀 Oh. Chip thought it impossible at first but then he really tried to rationalize it. "If I can get abducted by aliens over and over then.... No. I mean I don't remember what happened.... They could have... But why would they? No. That's not possible. They couldn't expect me to know how to handle that.... It's gotta be something else...."

It wasn't...

After a weird and exhausting experience that I cannot even begin to envision, Chip held his little girl in his arms for the first time. "This is remarkable!", Chip thought. "There's no greater proof than an alien baby!" But his face fell almost immediately as he thought about it. Was he really okay with giving his baby over to science to prove his theory? He really thought about it. "I.... I won't let anyone take you from me, Ares. You are safe here. You are so loved. I won't let anything bad happen to you. That's a promise."

Note:

I would like to add that I didn't talk about the slight plot hole of Caleb being a know vampire but how it's weird to believe in aliens. In this save, my canon for occults is that they are definitely around but hide it well. Chip knows Caleb is a vampire. A few close friends do as well. But no one meets Ares as a baby and only ever seen her in her disguise. People believe that Chip and Caleb adopted her. Werewolves are confined to Moonwood Mill as well. I love having the Occults in my gameplay but I often like them to be played as if they are living a double life and that humans do not know that they exist outside of story books

#the sims 4 #not so berry #The Palette Legacy

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rubysunnday · 3 years

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orion and pleiades

Request by Anon - prompt #2 just screams Colin Bridgerton to me “Don’t say a word, just dance with me.”

A/N: I hope this is alright, anon! These requests (and the few in my inbox) will probably be the last few I write for sometime x

Colin was enjoying himself.

He’d found a nice spot in the far corner of the ballroom where he could drink and watch the dancing without being cornered by the mamas and ladies. Anthony and Benedict had been apprehended by their mother and were currently being paraded around the room like dresses in the modiste. Colin was trying not to take too much pleasure in the discomfort of his brothers but it was actually a very difficult task.

Benedict kept sending him glares and looks of hope at being rescued but Colin was strategically ignoring him.

Penelope Featherington weaved through the crowd, in the direction of what Colin had named ‘Colin’s corner’.

“You alright, Pen?” Colin asked as Penelope walked up to his corner.

“Mmhmm,” Penelope hummed, nodding as she poured herself a drink. “Why do you look so pleased with yourself?” She asked, side-eyeing Colin suspiciously.

“My mother has accosted Anthony and Benedict,” Colin said, chuckling as Penelope glanced over at where his brothers were and tried not to laugh.

“I feel for them,” she said. “Mama has just dragged me around the ballroom for most of the night.” Penelope paused. “Have you seen Y/N at all tonight?”

Colin shook his head. “No. She said she was coming, however. Perhaps she’s been held up.”

“Or perhaps she’s running in your direction right now?” Penelope suggested, gesturing to the left.

Colin turned and saw Y/N running towards him, looking increasingly panicked.

“What is it, what’s wrong?” He asked as she all but collided into him. He caught her by the arms and caught her as she skidded to a sudden halt, her balance off by her sudden halt.

Y/N grabbed his hands. “Don’t say a word, just dance with me,” she said, dragging him towards the dance floor.

Colin let himself be dragged through the crowd and, to his credit, said nothing. He noticed that Y/N didn’t relax until they were well ensconced in the middle of the crowd and were well into the dance.

“Do I get the pleasure of discovering why I was accosted and dragged onto the floor?” Colin asked, his eyes glinting with delight as Y/N groaned and dropped her head onto his shoulder.

“My mother,” she said, dragging out the last word to add more emphasis. “I have been dragged around this room all night, being forced upon every single eligible man within a five mile vicinity - including your brothers.”

“That would have been the highlight of the evening for them, I guarantee you, Y/N,” Colin laughed. “There are far worse people they could’ve had forced upon them.”

“Including Philippa Featherington? Because I saw Anthony dancing with her when I was trying to escape my mother’s clutches.” Y/N looked at Colin’s terrified expression and giggled. “The terror on behalf of your brother is very amusing, Colin.”

Colin twirled Y/N and then dipped her. “What can I saw, I know how my fellow soldier feels.”

Y/N laughed and the sound was like music to Colin’s ears. “Are we really that bad?”

“Your mothers are,” Colin replied. “The ladies... depends. You, Miss Y/L/N, are a goddess.”

“Do I have a halo?” Y/N asked, letting Colin lift her up.

“A beautiful, sparkly, golden one,” he replied. “And a beam of sunlight follows you everywhere you go, lighting up the entire room.”

Y/N smiled, entirely unfazed by the shower of compliments. “Ok, what do you want?”

“Nothing!”

“Colin, you only ever compliment me when you want something,” Y/N replied, giving him a raise of her eyebrows and an unconvinced stare. “So, what is it?”

“Well, I did save you from your mother by dancing with you,” Colin countered, realising he had leverage against her.

Y/N paused and sighed, cursing softly. Colin heard her curse and, whilst his eyes widened, he just snorted. He'd grown use to hearing her curse, even if it was extremely un-ladylike.

Y/N was just like his sister, Eloise - a woman who didn’t conform to society and didn’t, particularly, care what people thought of her. Colin liked her for her honesty and for the fact she didn’t spend the balls sucking up to men and pretending to be something she wasn't.

“Ok, fine,” Y/N said and Colin blinked, trying to remember what they’d been talking about moments earlier. “I owe you. What do you want?”

Colin smirked. “For you to be glued to my side the entire night.”

Y/N stopped dancing for a split second. “Have you been talking to Hyacinth?”

“No, why?”

“Because the girl is obsessed with the word glue and all connotations that go with it,” Y/N muttered, shaking her head. “Glueee. Anyway, so, my challenge is to not leave your side, is that it?”

“Well, it’ll keep my mother off my back,” Colin said, smiling.

“Oh, and here I thought you just enjoyed my company, Colin,” Y/N said, pouting.

The dance came to a grand finish and Colin bowed to Y/N as she curtsied to him.

��So, glue,” she said, grabbing his arm and allowing him to lead her off the dance floor. “What, precisely, does being glue entail?”

“Oh... well, it mainly entails not leaving me alone with my mother,” Colin replied, leading them over to where Anthony and Benedict were hiding from Violet.

“Well, there’s all sorts of things I could do to be glued to your side all evening,” Y/N said, making great effort into looking like she was thinking hard. “I could fake swoon -”

“We both know you’re better than that -”

“ - I could take you for a turn around the room -”

“Please don’t -”

Y/N stopped, turned, and looked up at him. “Or, I could just say I twisted my ankle dancing with you and since you feel like it was your fault, you don’t want to leave me alone and that my wellbeing is your top priority.”

Colin raised his eyebrows. He’d known Y/N for many years and also knew when he teasing was also partly true. “Did you?”

“Did I what?”

“Did you twist your ankle?”

Y/N avoid his gaze. “No.”

“Y/N.”

“Ok, I rolled it a bit,” she said, meeting his gaze. “It was when I ran into you, I had a little too much momentum and went over on it.”

“Of course you did,” Colin muttered. “Come on then, my little invalid, let’s sit you down.”

“I’m not a child, Colin,” Y/N grumbled.

Despite her complaint, however, she still allowed him to guide her across the room and to the safety of the terrace outside.

It was a beautiful evening and the stars were visible up above. Y/N sat down on a nearby bench and tilted her head up at the sky, her hair falling over the edge of the bench the further she titled her head.

“I wish we could see the stars from London,” she said softly.

Colin sat down next to her - his leg brushing hers. “Have you ever heard the tale of Orion?”

Y/N turned her head to look at him, eyes filled with curiosity. “No.”

Colin smiled and looked at her. “Well, as the legend goes, Orion was a great hunter who fell in love with the seven sisters.” Colin put his arm around Y/N’s shoulders and took her hand. “He was after them for twelve years. For twelve, long years, he chased after these sisters, trying to gain their favour and affection, However, Zeus, king of the gods, found out about Orion chasing after them and turned all of them into stars.”

Y/N was too enamoured with the story and looking at Colin’s beautiful face to sat anything.

“Orion can chase the Pleiades - the seven sisters - forever, but he can never catch them. He'll follow them across the sky and beyond the horizon in his attempt to catch them.”

Y/N smiled softly at him. “Well, isn’t it a good job I don’t have any sisters, then?”

Colin chuckled. “Isn’t a good job we’re allowed to be together.”

Y/N said nothing. She smiled and felt her cheeks grow hotter. “Colin -”

Colin leant forward and kissed her on the lips. He moved back, shot her a beautiful, mischievous smile, and then kissed her on the cheek.

Colin stood up and sighed. “I’m hungry,” he announced to no one in particular.

Y/N tried not to glare at him as she stood up. She huffed out a laugh and followed after him. “Colin, if all the food in the world was turned into stars, you would turn into one and follow it all around the skies.”

Colin paused and turned to look at her. “If you turned into a star, dear Y/N/N, I would follow you no matter where you went.”

#bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #colin bridgerton #colin bridgerton x reader

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theraspberryler · 3 years

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IRL Benchtrio Tickle Fic (creative, I know)

Welp, here you go! This is my first ever fic, and I’m actually kinda happy with how it turned out.

Summary: Ranboo’s staying with Tubbo in the UK, and Tommy goes over to visit them. However, Ranboo ends up finding himself in a,, mood, of sorts. He overthinks the situation too much and ends up freaking out, but luckily, he’s got two awesome friends who are there for him! (hurt/comfort)

~This is a tickle fic! If that’s not your thing, then move on please~

TW - Panic attack, self deprecating thoughts, let me know if I need to add anything else

Ranboo had been in the UK with Tubbo for a couple days now, and the two of them have been having a blast, the pure joy and excitement of finally getting to see each other in person had given them the energy to keep going constantly over the past two days, with them doing multiple streams and other activities. They had decided to meet up with Tommy that day, planning to record a vlog for Tommy’s vlog channel, but the past nights of practically no rest had caught up to the two, and when Tommy arrived at Tubbo’s house and saw how exhausted they appeared, he insisted they take the day to rest. They could record the vlog later, it wasn’t a big deal.

Of course, Tubbo and Ranboo immediately protested, but once Tommy made up his mind he was a force to be reckoned with. Eventually they settled to spend the day relaxing at Tubbo’s house, no cameras, and Ranboo had to admit, it was pretty nice. The three of them hadn’t had the chance to just talk without the stress of cameras being in their faces for quite a while, and they all needed the chance to just mess around and act like kids. No need to worry about carefully choosing their words to avoid any discourse.

Tommy was currently sitting in the chair at Tubbo’s desk, aimlessly spinning in circles as he recalled the events of the previous day, waving his hands around with an animated expression. Tubbo and Ranboo were seated on opposite ends of Tubbo’s bed, Tubbo laughing at Tommy’s over dramatic retelling of,,, something. Despite his best efforts, Ranboo couldn’t seem to pay attention to Tommy’s words. He told himself that he didn’t know what was causing his fidgety mood, but he knew he was lying to himself.

Earlier that day when Tommy first arrived, he shoved the door open with his usual flair, and loudly announced his arrival. Obviously excited to see him, Tubbo and Ranboo rushed over to greet him. Ranboo had instantly gathered Tommy up into a hug and held him close. And despite the show Tommy put up of not liking Ranboo, he latched onto the other as well, though of course not without poking fun at the other for being so eager to greet him, and a few playfully exchanged insults. That had been great, the thought brought a smile to his face. The part that had Ranboo squirming in his seat right now, was the way Tommy scribbled his nails into his sides after not being able to come up with a witty comeback to one of Ranboo’s playful jabs. It was brief, and after laughing at the squawk Ranboo let out good-naturedly, he dropped it. But, it was more than enough to send Ranboo’s brain spiralling into a lee mood, which only intensified as the playful atmosphere in the room continued.

Ranboo had told Tubbo before about this,,, liking of his before, and he had responded with only positivity, and he knew deep down that Tommy wouldn’t judge him either, but he still tried to forcefully shove the mood down, still telling himself that it was weird, and that Tommy and Tubbo would surely mock him if he admitted to them how he was feeling.

The only problem was, while Ranboo was lost in thought, the other two had noticed how unusually quiet he had been, and Tommy paused his storytelling, asking if he was alright. At the attention being turned to him, Ranboo froze up, and his nerves kicked in, but he still tried to play it off.

“I-I uhm, y-yeah, I’m fine.” Ranboo cursed himself for his lousy attempt to reassure them, and the other two clearly didn’t buy it.

“You sure, ‘Boo? If we’re doing something to make you uncomfortable, you can tell us.” Curse Tubbo for being so damn sweet, and those big, worried eyes that were carefully observing him. Ranboo fidgeted in place, refusing to make eye contact with either in the room. He was silent, getting increasingly frustrated with himself. Why couldn’t he come up with a response? Why did he have to be so bad at social interaction? This is so stupid for me to get worked up about, just say something!

As Ranboo remained silent, Tommy and Tubbo’s concern for him only grew, and Tommy pushed himself up from the chair he was sitting in. making his way over to sit on the bed next to him. Seeing how uncomfortable Ranboo seemed, they didn’t push him to talk anymore, and both shuffled around to sit on either side of him. Ranboo risked a glance to his side, and, catching his gaze, Tommy offered him a kind smile, slowly reaching out to softly grasp his hand. And, oh shit, Ranboo could feel that familiar burning behind his eyes, and he quickly pulled his knees up to his chest, burying his face into them. God, why were they always so sweet to him? He was getting so worked up and upset over a stupid mood, and couldn’t even manage to say anything to them! In his frustration with himself, the tears in his eyes began to overflow, and his breath hitched.

Tubbo pressed up closer to him, bringing his arms up to wrap around Ranboo, before he paused.

“Hey, ‘Boo, it's alright. Can I touch you?” Ranboo managed a nod at that, and Tubbo wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close. It was a little awkward with Ranboo being so much taller than him, but the embrace still served its purpose and Ranboo melted into his touch. Tommy brought his free hand up to Ranboo’s back, rubbing circles into it.

“Hey, Ranboo, it's okay. We’re here. Breathe with me, yeah?” He hadn’t even noticed how his breathing had sped up, but he allowed Tommy to guide him through the panic attack, as he counted their breaths, in and out, moving the hand on his back up and down along with the rhythm.

After a few minutes of counting and failed attempts, Ranboo had managed to considerably calm down. In that time, the three of them had managed to maneuver into a laying down position, both Ranboo and Tubbo practically laying on top of Tommy, nearly crushing him, but somehow, they were comfortable. After a couple more moments of them all breathing together, Tubbo broke the silence.

“Hey, ‘Boo, you think you could manage to tell us what happened? You don’t have to, but it would help Tommy and I be able to help you.” Ranboo took a deep, stuttering breath, before he opened his mouth to speak. His voice was rough and scratchy, but he pushed on anyway.

“I-Its stupid, really. I was just in a certain, u-uh,, m-mood, and got frustrated with myself. I-I’m fine, really, I was just upset that I couldn’t say what I was thinking.” Tubbo caught on to what Ranboo meant by “mood” pretty quickly, Ranboo having told him about it before. Tommy still didn’t know what he meant by that, but pushed on anyways, and spoke up.

“That's not stupid at all, not being able to say what you’re thinking can be really frustrating and scary. You did a great job just now, though, with telling us what happened, I’m proud of you for that.” Ranboo whined at the slight praise, though he couldn’t deny how Tommy’s words and reassurances made him feel better.

Tubbo forced himself to sit up, stretching his arms and rubbing his eyes.

“Why don’t we put on a movie? And, uh,, if you wanted to um,, do something about that mood, ‘Boo, we could. Or not! Whatever you’re comfortable with, I don’t wanna push you! We could just watch the movie!” Tubbo was hesitant to offer; not because he didn’t want to help Ranboo with his mood, oh no, he just didn’t wanna make him uncomfortable, or make him feel like he had to.

At the offer, Ranboo felt his face heat up. Wow, and to think that he could have just gotten that so easily. Ranboo pushed the mildly self-deprecating thought away, and shyly nodded in response, hiding his face in his hands. Tommy, still confused as ever, just watched their interaction, not saying anything.

Tubbo gently pulled one of Ranboo’s hands away from his face, offering him a reassuring smile.

“Is it alright if I explain to Tommy, ‘Boo? You know he would never judge you.” Ranboo looked away and nervously bit his lip, but nodded after a few moment’s hesitation, pulling his hand back. Tommy looked between the two, his confused expression growing concerned, both because he was worried this “mood” Ranboo was in was something bad, and because Ranboo had thought that he would judge him for it. Tubbo noticed Tommy’s concern, however, and was quick to set him straight as he guided Ranboo to lay down on the bed of his back.

“Don’t worry, Toms, it's nothing bad. Ranboo explained it to me over Discord one night. I’m pretty sure he called it a ‘lee mood,’ which basically just means that he's in the mood to be tickled!” Tubbo didn’t miss the flustered squeak that Ranboo let out when he said the word, and smiled fondly at him, even though Ranboo couldn’t see it, since he was covering his face.

Tommy, upon hearing that indeed nothing was wrong and this “mood” was something as sweet and innocent as that, instantly lit up.

“Awe, Ranboo, that's so sweet! There's nothing wrong with that at all! You want us to tickle you, big man? Is that alright?” Ranboo squeaked again, and thought this just may be the most flustered he's ever been, but it’s not a bad feeling. Definitely not.

He couldn’t even attempt to hide how happy Tommy’s positive response made him, and at the light, teasing tone in Tommy’s voice towards the end sent tingles down his spine. Unable to find his words, Ranboo just nodded in response, curling up slightly. He let out yet another squeak as he felt someone’s hands on his sides, unable to hold in his anticipatory giggles even though the hands weren’t even moving yet. He shyly peaked out from behind his hands to see who had placed their hands on him, only to immediately hide again as the other two cooed at his reaction.

“Giggling already, ‘Boo? I haven’t even done anything!” Ranboo shook his head in response, his giggles heightening in pitch.

“Dohohon’t tehehease!” Tubbo pouted playfully at Ranboo, not that he could see him.

“Awe, why not? It's fun teasing you, because I get to see your adorable little flush and hear your sweet giggles!” Ranboo only whined louder, causing both lers to laugh.

Tubbo began to lightly massage little circles into Ranboo’s sides where his hands were laying, occasionally scratching his nails into the sensitive skin. Ranboo, his sides being a fairly bad spot and already being wound up from the teasing and anticipation, let out an embarrassingly loud squeal, arching his back.

“Whoa, did you see that Toms? His sides must be sooo ticklish!” Tubbo snickered.

As much as he was enjoying watching Tubbo tickle Ranboo to bits, Tommy decided he was bored of just watching, and would find a spot as well. After a couple moments of consideration, Tommy fluttered his fingers over Ranboo’s neck, gasping excitedly at the squeaky giggles the spot produced. Ranboo shook his head back and forth and scrunched up his shoulders, still keeping his hands over his face.

“C’mon, ‘Boo, stay still for me, yeah? It’s hard for me to tickle you when you’re moving around all over the place.”

Ranboo still couldn’t believe this was actually happening, it had been such a long time since he’d been tickled, he honestly wasn’t sure where he was ticklish, or even if he was ticklish at all anymore.

So when Tommy’s fingers glided over his ears by accident, even he was surprised by the shrill shriek that he let out. The sound startled the other two into stopping for a moment, and Ranboo felt himself flush darker. He was about to start apologising when suddenly Tommy’s fingers were back to his ears, tracing his nails around the shells of them.

“Holy shit ‘Boo, I didn’t even know someone’s ears could be so ticklish,” Tommy giggled.

“SHUHut uhuhuhup!” Ranboo’s plea fell on deaf ears, as Tubbo picked up his tickling at Ranboo’s sides.

“No fair! How come Tommy gets the good spot?” Tubbo playfully complained, a childish pout on his face. Tommy let out his signature barking laugh, and stuck his tongue out at the other.

“Sucks to suck, bitch boy!” Tubbo just huffed in response, deciding to try out a different spot; maybe he could find a spot worse than his ears.

Ranboo would normally laugh at them and play along with their childish antics, but something about how they were talking about tickling him so casually was extremely flustering to him.

“Guhuhuys! NohoHOHO!” Tubbo’s fingers had pressed into the divots between Ranboo’s ribs, vibrating them in place. Ranboo threw his head back in laughter, his hands finally leaving his face to instead latch onto Tubbo’s wrists, though he didn’t push them away.

Tubbo grinned victoriously, flashing Tommy a cocky smirk as Ranboo began kicking his legs out underneath him. Tommy just growled in response, immediately searching for a new spot. He experimentally squeezed at Ranboo’s thigh, being rewarded with another hiccup, but not much else. Tommy pouted as Tubbo cackled at him, narrowing his eyes at the shorter.

“‘Sucks to suck,’ huh Toms?” Tubbo mocked, eyes lighting up as he reached Ranboo’s upper ribs, causing Ranboo to let out a louder hiccup than the others and a squeak.

Ranboo couldn’t even attempt to form proper words now, between how hard he was laughing and how flustered he was, and he was enjoying every second of it. After a bit longer, Tubbo began to slow down his fingers, allowing Ranboo to take a breather.

As Ranboo began to recover, Tommy smirked as he got an idea. He gracelessly shoved Tubbo off of Ranboo, earning him an undignified squawk from the shorter, before he sat himself on Ranboo’s hips and unleashed all ten of his fingers along his belly.

Ranboo jolted like he was electrocuted, not expecting the sudden attack, before snorting and falling into loud belly laughter. As Tommy crowed victoriously, Tubbo couldn’t even bring himself to be upset that he lost their little ‘competition,’ instantly cooing at Ranboo.

“Awwe, does someone have a ticklish belly?” After a moment of violent thrashing, Ranboo went limp, and just accepted his fate. Even though he was laughing so hard his belly was starting to hurt, and he could feel tears prickling in the corners of his eyes, he couldn’t deny how good this felt. To be so carefree around his friends, not even trying to muffle or contain his reactions as he snorted and laughed to his heart's content.

“NAHAHAHA- *snort* T-TOHOHOMS!” Tommy laughed as his name was called out, pulling his hands away from Ranboo’s belly, flopping on the bed next to him. Tubbo climbed back up on the bed as well, laying himself across the other two. Tommy grunted from Tubbo’s weight being added onto him, and pulled Ranboo into his arms, rubbing his back soothingly. Ranboo buried his face into Tubbo’s hair, trying to regulate his breathing. After a minute of comfortable (almost) silence and Ranboo’s giggling still hadn’t let up, Tubbo laughed, rubbing his shoulder.

“You alright, Boo?” Ranboo nodded, his head falling back against the bed, taking deep breaths.

“Y-yeahahaha, I’m goohohod.” Tommy fondly rolled his eyes as the giggling still didn’t completely stop, pulling the two closer to him. Tubbo shifted around, wrapping himself around Ranboo, before relaxing and closing his eyes. The only two followed shortly after him.

“Softyinnit.”

“Shut the fuck up Tubbo.”

#tickle fic #mcyt tickle fic #lee!ranboo #ler!tubbo #ler!tommy #ler!tommyinnit

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lowkeyorloki · 4 years

Text

Anger Management

Summary: Loki doesn’t like you. He’s begging himself to keep it this way.

Smut, 18+. This may be expanded into a mulit chapter. Let me know what you think~

Loki doesn’t even need to knock on your door. You open it before he raises his hand, like you had been waiting for him. That’s what Loki would have thought, if he didn’t see the annoyed look splayed across your features.

You look small, mortal. Back on Midgard, it isn’t so obvious, but on Asgard, the contrast between you and the gods is like night and day. You’re inconsequential, with your oversize shirt that barely covers your ass, your messy hair pulled out of your face, the deep circles under your eyes.

You look terrible. But that doesn’t make Loki leave.

He doesn’t wait for you to invite him in, he just pushes past you. Almost immediately he turns back to face you: he hated your room. As the Midgardian diplomat, you didn’t get to go home much. You solution was to bring your home to Asgard- or at least your corner of it. Your room is set up like it would be on Earth, with a desk and strewn papers. There are tokens of your childhood, stuffed animals and old diaries almost everywhere. Loki tries not to look at them. They humanize you in his eyes, and he doesn’t want to do that.

Loki pushes you against the door you’ve barely just managed to close, his fingers gripping at your hips and teeth scraping over your neck. He growls. At least Midgard did one thing right, he thinks as he kneeds your ass. The thong you’re wearing makes it easier for him to get your cheeks to flush, your body to tremble. Less work- though with you, Loki never truly had to exert himself.

“Loki-” he nips at your bottom lip, hoping you’ll take the hint that he doesn’t want to talk tonight. He never does, but especially not now. He kisses your jaw, smirking when it draws a gasp out of you. He lets his lips drift down the the neckline of you hoodie, which is much too high for his liking. It makes him let out a breath of annoyance. He lifts you up, and before you can even think to wrap your legs around his waist, Loki tosses you across the room and onto your bed.

You prop yourself up on your elbows, glaring at Loki.

“Really?” you ask, the first noise you’ve made since gasping into his mouth. Loki smirks. “I’m tired, Loki. You show up this late, is it really necessary to manhandle me too?”

Loki rolls his eyes before they flicker down to your cunt. It betrays your apparent anger, the thin cloth covering it already wet. Loki can practically smell you from here. You’re just a mortal, but you take up all of Loki’s senses. He hates it. Hates you.

“I don’t recall saying you could talk.”

“I don’t recall asking for permission.” Loki joins you on the bed, hands on either side of your body as he towers over you. If you’re intimidated, you’re doing a good job at hiding it. “I’m not going to when I was nice enough to let you in.”

“Right. Because I’m the only one benefitting from this arrangement.” Loki flicks his thumb over your clothed clit. Your eyes roll to the back of your head. Loki sighs in the silence. “That’s better.”

“Can’t shut up Odin and Thor this way. Take what you can get, I guess.”

Loki’s head snaps up, absolute fury taking over his mind. He pins your hands over your head in a second, summoning a rope to secure them to your headboard.

Loki would spend more time punishing you, chastising you for such insolence. But he’s aching for you, he came here for release and doesn’t want to chase it any longer. He spells away your sweatshirt, leaving you almost completely naked. Loki licks his lips at the sight of you. As always, your body seems to come alive under his hungry stare.

Loki dips down, placing a rabid kiss on your hip, making sure to leave a mark. He takes the material of your thong between his teeth, dragging it off your leg and tossing it aside. Loki turns his attention to your thighs, and you open your legs further when he does. Against your skin, Loki smirks again. You were so easy. Loki frees himself, untying his pants as fast as he can. The rest of his clothes stay on as usual. Loki always wants you to be the one in a more vulnerable position.

His cock teases your wet folds, and Loki is overcome with the need to feel you, warm and somewhat welcoming. He thrusts, entering you in fluid motion, but quickly drawing away so just his head rests inside you.

You fidget, watching him indignantly. Loki stares back, always patient. Finally, you let out a whine. He decides to give you something, because he doesn’t want you to really get mad, reaching up to tease one of your nipples. You let out a small moan, your mouth falling slightly ajar. While your guard is down, Loki swiftly pulls away and enters you once more. You let out a cry, and being unable to throw your arms around him like you usually do, your legs tighten around Loki’s hips. You shudder underneath him, and Loki feels your walls clench. He curses.

“Lo-ki.” you say, the god’s name strained with every movement of his hips. Loki doesn’t answer, his breath hot on your shoulder as he hits the spot deep inside you that makes your toes curl. You gasp, your breathing becoming increasingly erratic. Loki reaches between your joined bodies, quickly finding your clit again and giving it almost too much attention. Your brow furrows, your cries getting louder and louder. This was why Loki had enchanted your room, so you wouldn’t alert the palace every time he paid you a visit.

Loki fucks in and out of you, even harder than he usually does. It’s this night, this damn place, making him so needy. Loki chases his thoughts away by focusing on your face, contorted with pleasure as he finally draws your climax from you. You cry with Loki’s final thrust as he comes inside you, both your bodies almost instantly going limp. Loki is heavy, his heaving chest on yours as he stills inside you. You stare at the ceiling, Loki at the pillows, until he finally eases out of you with a hiss.

Loki doesn’t even look at you, he just waves his hand so your own are free. He hears your groan behind him, bu tries not to think about it. Standing, he tucks himself back into his pants.

“Hey.” your voice is deep, more so than usual. Loki glances your way, sees you’ve pulled your knees up to your chest. Drops of Loki’s cum roll down your thighs, dripping on your sheets. He blinks. “Any particular reason you had to go so hard tonight?”

You are human, no matter how much it pains Loki to admit it. You’ll be sore tomorrow for sure. Loki can’t bring himself to feel bad for that. If anything, it just makes him somewhat excited.

Loki turns his back, walking towards your door. Gripping the handle, he stops.

“My mother. It’s the anniversary of her death.”

With that, Loki leaves. He’s wholly uninterested in your pity.

824 notes · View notes

mochegato · 3 years

Text

Hope on Board

Chapter 21 – Missed Opportunities

Chapter 1 Chapter 20

“You’re not going to be able to make it? I put it on the calendar and everything. Physical and digital,” Marinette pouted.

“I know,” Dick groaned in frustration with himself. “But I’m telling you in advance this time. I can’t make it. I’ll watch videos. I’ll give you extra back massages. I’ll hire a personal instructor. I’m sorry.”

“Dick… we rescheduled this twice so you could make it.” Marinette knew her voice was getting exasperated and angry, but she couldn’t help it. This kept happening. He kept missing everything. At this rate, he was going to miss the birth as well.

“I know but this is… This is really important, Mari,” he begged her to understand. This could be the missing piece they needed. He had to go.

“And this,” she indicated her belly, “isn’t?” She was giving him a hard, challenging look.

“That isn’t… I did not say that,” he answered indignantly.

“No, I know. That wasn’t fair,” she conceded quickly. It wasn’t Dick’s fault he was going to be gone and he was getting better. He was letting her know in advance he wasn’t going to make the birthing class. She collapsed against the counter, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.”

Dick let out a long pained sigh. “I know this is frustrating. I’m frustrated and upset. I can’t control the timing for this, for any of this. And it’s all happening at the same time and it’s all converging and I can’t control any of it.” Dick’s voice got increasingly aggravated as he spoke and his gestures wilder. He hated the timing of all of this, but he needed to be there. They had finally been able to track a talon and he needed to trade off with Wally to keep up the tail. He was the leader. It was his family he was defending. He had to go.

Marinette sighed and squared her shoulders. This was just as trying on him as it was on her and she desperately wanted him not to suffer because of things he couldn’t control. She cupped his face to bring his focus back to her. “Yeah, it sucks and I hate it. But we just need to remember we love each other, right? We love each other and we want to be together.” she gave him a long, luxuriant kiss. “The universe is messing with us. We aren’t going to let it win.”

Dick observed the determined, loving look in her eyes. Her confidence grounded him. Things were bad now, but they would get better. He would stop this plot and then things would be better. He rested his hands over hers and smiled. “We’re going to take on the universe huh?”

Marinette nodded, eyes shining with mirth, “And win. That part’s important.”

Dick chuckled indulgently. “Of course. And win. Together.”

“Together,” Marinette nodded. “As long as we work together and communicate and we’re honest with each other, there’s no way the universe can bring us down.”

It took almost the entirety of Dick’s over a decade of training to hide the wince that resulted from the ‘honest’ comment. It was like her comment was designed to cut even though he knew it wasn’t. It still hit hard. As soon as this was over he could come clean. He would be honest. And there wouldn’t be any more secrets between them. They just needed to hold out for a few more weeks… or months… God, he hoped it wasn’t longer than that. Instead, he smiled and nudged her nose with his. “I love you.”

Her responding smile was absolutely brilliant. “I love you too, Bluebird.”

<><><><><>

“I’m so sorry I’m going to miss it.” The remorse in Marinette’s voice was clear even over the speaker. She was still in the office working on a few last minute issues with Lucius on issues with the fabric.

“It’s okay, Marinette. I understand,” Dick calmly assured her.

“Yeah, we get it, Pixie Pop. Your show is coming up really… long time from now,” Jason teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes, reveling in the chaos he was unleashing.

“It isn’t long. It’s short. Really short,” Marinette ranted, the words spilling out quickly. “Only a few weeks. Can you believe it’s just a few weeks away? I should have everything done and be working on details now. Rachel, do not emulate this. I expect you to be better than me.”

Lucius chuckled. “Every inventor and creator I know does this. This is always what it is like right before a debut. You’re doing fine.”

“I’ve seen what you have so far, it looks amazing already,” Stephanie assured her. And it did. She was completely blown away with what Marinette had done.

“No kidding. You made me willing to wear designer clothes,” Duke agreed.

“Do you need anything Marinette? Do you need me to bring over something to eat or drink? Did you take your vitamins today?” Dick fussed. He knew how she was when she was working and it was already dinner time. If he knew her, and he did, then she didn’t even realize how late it was yet.

“Thank you, Dick. I’m fine. You guys just enjoy your night together. And yes I did,” she assured him. Despite not being able to see her, Dick knew she had a smile on her face.

“Okay, I’ll let you get back to work, but I’ll see you at home tonight, right? You’re not going to spend all night there working on it?” Dick asked pointedly.

“Don’t worry Mr. Grayson. I’ll make sure she doesn’t work herself too hard. I’ve already ordered food in for us and a company car to take Rachel home after dinner and another for Marinette at 9, so she has to leave by then,” Lucius assured him with a chuckle.

“You two do realize I’m not a child, right?” Marinette snapped.

“Of course. You’re an adult. An extremely self-sacrificing, prone to self-destruction adult. You’ll fit right into the Wayne family whenever Mr. Grayson finally wakes up.” They could hear Lucius’ smirk through the phone as well as Rachel’s giggle and Marinette’s squeak.

“Rachel!” she exclaimed a few octaves higher than normal. “Do not encourage him!”

“Absolutely encourage him,” Stephanie called out loudly.

“Rachel, you’re supposed to be on my side.” They could tell she was trying to be offended but couldn’t quite pull it off. “You know what? Don’t you have homework to do? You should be doing your homework.”

“I already got my homework done before I came here and the essay that’s due Monday,” Rachel answered easily.

“Oh, well that’s… very well organized. Good job, Rachel,” Marinette admitted grudgingly.

“Well, somebody here should be,” Lucius teased.

“And you! You know what, you don’t need to be here. In fact, you’re not welcome here anymore. You can go home. Call a car for yourself,” Marinette growled playfully.

“Might I remind you, this is my office,” Lucius responded, completely nonplussed by her comment.

“You might, but it won’t change my previous statement.” Lucius’ laughter rang clear through the phone, a clear indication that Marinette had punctuated her retort by sticking her tongue out at him.

“Lucius, stop flirting with my girlfriend,” Dick implored with a smile.

“Mr. Grayson, if I wanted to flirt with your girlfriend, she would no longer be your girlfriend,” Lucius responded smoothly.

“Oooooooh, damn,” Duke laughed. “So that’s what total destruction looks like.”

“Lucius,” Marinette admonished him, “don’t say true things like that to him. One of us being a nervous wreck with a tendency to spiral into anxiety induced death spirals and nightmares is enough.”

“You okay, fam?” Tim asked cautiously. He looked over to Dick to see how much of what she had said should be taken seriously and judging by the frown on his face, all of it except the Lucius part.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Marinette answered in an overly confident, chipper voice. They could just picture the toothy, too wide grin on her face and twitching eye. “Just another few weeks and it will all be over,” she continued. “One way or another,” she added quietly.

“I know you’re dreading the end of our association when you’re sought out by every major name in the business, but I think your future husband is more than happy to have you out of my influence,” Lucius teased. “Until he realizes there’s another year on the contract.”

“Yeah, okay. On that note, I’m going to let you get back to work so Marinette can get home and in bed at a reasonable time. Lucius… I’m keeping my eye on you,” he said in a stern voice that anyone else might have taken as serious.

Lucius laughed. “Understood, Mr. Grayson. Have a good night.”

“Love you, Bluebird. Have fun, guys.” Marinette called out to them.

“Night Marinette!” Jason, Duke, Stephanie and Tim yelled to her.

“Love you too. Night,” Dick said before hanging up. He tapped the phone against his lips with a concerned frown. He wasn’t doing enough to lessen her stress. She was still too stressed and it wasn’t good for the babies. Maybe he could give her a massage tonight. He plastered on a smile and turned to the others. “Let’s get this movie started.”

“Is she always like that?” Duke asked after a few minutes.

“Like what?” Dick tried to give him a confused look but Duke just raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him. “Yeah, lately, yeah. Stress from the show. When the show is over she should be much more relaxed. Adrien seems to think this is completely normal and expected for her.”

“Cass and I would take her out for another girl’s night if we thought it would help, but at this point, I don’t think there is anything we can do but not add to her stress,” Stephanie grimaced.

“What a thought, not adding to Pixie’s stress,” Jason glared at Dick, a look that Dick didn’t miss.

Tim looked awkwardly between Dick and Jason. “So… going back to what Lucius said, you thinking about proposing to Marinette?”

Dick looked away from Jason and blinked a few times, trying to get his mind to switch tracks. “I have a ring, but not now. Not yet. We love each other, but I don’t think we’re there yet. There’s still trust issues,” Dick shrugged.

Jason scoffed and took a drink. “Have anything to do with you abandoning her regularly with no notice and sketchy ass excuses?”

Dick glared at him. “Probably,” he growled, knowing full well that was exactly what it was. All of their problems boiled down to the Titans and him focusing too much on figuring out the Court of Owl plan. All the missed appointments, all the missed life events, all the broken promises, were all because of Titan activity.

“Have you thought about just… telling her?” Tim asked carefully.

Dick drew in a deep, frustrated breath. Of course he had. They all pushed him to tell her constantly. Bruce had even given his blessing. He could just tell her and alleviate a lot of their issues, but he refused to put that on her while she was already under so much stress and according to the doctor, it was dangerous for her to be under any. He couldn’t control the fashion show but he could control this. He wasn’t going to endanger the twins and Marinette just to make himself more comfortable.

She already got so worried about him from the injuries he came home with. She would get that adorable, heartbreaking concerned frown and furrowed brow every time she looked at them, and since some of them took weeks to heal, she had that expression every day, several times a day for weeks. After one particularly bad fight with Double Dare, she had nightmares for days about him getting hurt and then the babies getting caught in an attack. He wasn’t about to tell her he did that regularly and induce nightmares every night while she was pregnant.

“You know, you’re going to have a couple kids with her pretty soon. It might be important information for her,” Jason prodded.

“If Grayson doesn’t want to tell her, he has every right not to,” Damian interjected.

“Thank you, Damian,” Dick responded, silently, momentarily thankful he didn’t have the same protective streak for Marinette that the rest of the family had acquired.

“He knows her better than the rest of us and if he does not find her trustworthy, that insight should be respected,” Damian finished, returning his attention to the movie.

“What?” Dick exclaimed looking back at Damian in shock. Was that really what Damian was getting from this? Is that why he thought Dick didn’t want to tell Marinette? “That’s not… Damian that is not why I haven’t…”

“She should know if she’s going to be doing this alone,” Jason interrupted. His voice was hard and accusatory, as it often was with Dick lately.

Distantly, Dick heard someone gasp and shuffle around, but he was far too focused to process it. “She won’t be doing it alone,” Dick growled back. Jason had been exceptionally hostile lately, more so than even Adrien, but the insinuation that Dick would abandon his family was going too far. “I’m going to be there for her and the babies.”

“I can’t hear the movie,” Damian warned them.

“Shut it, Imitation’s Imitation,” Jason snarled before rounding back on Dick. “Are you? When does that start? ‘Cuz you sure as Hell haven’t been so far.”

“Jason,” Stephanie tried to interject.

“I’ve had…” Dick started.

“Yeah, yeah. Vigilante business, which has always been more important than making baby appointments, more important than being there for Marinette. You need to figure out if you’re Nightwing or a father.”

“I’m both,” Dick gritted out through his teeth.

“But which is more important?” Jason argued

“Being a father, of course,” Dick yelled out.

“That’s not how it looks right now. How many appointments have you missed? How many events? You abandon her constantly for things that other people could easily handle and eventually, she’s going to figure out that you don’t actually work for WE, and what’s your plan for that? Or is that plan? Let her figure it out and walk away from you so you don’t have to be the bad guy?”

“Shouldn’t your loyalty be to Grayson? You’ve switched loyalties rather quickly. One look from a pretty woman and as expected you turn your back on your family,” Damian snarled, finally turning away from the movie.

“What the fuck do you think she is? She’s family. She’s carrying your niece and nephew. They are our family, all three of them even if Dickhead walks away from them. They are still our family and they deserve some consideration too,” Jason yelled back.

Damian opened his mouth to respond but Cass moved next to him, shaking her head. Damian grunted, but acquiesced, letting Dick and Jason fight it out between themselves.

“What is your obsession with me leaving them? It’s not going to happen. I’m not going to abandon them!” Dick howled.

Jason shook his head and gave a bitter chuckle. His voice suddenly back to an eerily normal level. “You’re right. You always are, Golden Boy. ‘I’m not going to’ would imply a future event. You already have abandoned them.”

“Fuck you! I have not.” The lowering of Jason’s voice only made Dick’s anger surge. He was acting like he won an argument, like it was already over. It was far from over. “I’ve been doing everything in my power to protect them. Whatever the Court of Owls is planning it is going to be huge and devastating, and we now know it includes Gotham. I’ve been doing nothing but investigating them for months to stop them. I’ve fought talons, I’ve tracked down associates, fuck, I’ve gotten captured by talons and had to get saved by Garth and Donna.”

“They should have kept you,” Jason grumbled, heading to the door. “I’m going to go check on Pixie Pop. It’s getting late, someone should and naturally, that someone won’t be you.”

Dick seethed as he stared at the door Jason left through. How dare he? How dare he! He had no right to suggest not only was Dick abandoning them, but that he wanted to. Abandoning her was the last thing he wanted to do. He didn’t want to leave in the middle of dates. He didn’t want to miss the babies kicking. He didn’t want to miss entire weeks of development. He didn’t want to miss snuggling with Marinette. He didn’t want to sleep without her. He did all of that because he was protecting her, because he loved her. He couldn’t just pass off all of his responsibilities to someone else. He was the team leader. He had to be the one to make the decisions.

“You okay?” Tim asked gently. He wanted to make sure Dick was okay, but wasn’t looking to incur his wrath. Jason had said everything that needed to be said, now Dick just needed to calm down and consider the words.

“He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t understand what it means to be a leader, what it means to be a father,” Dick growled.

Tim looked away and gave a heavy sigh. He wasn’t listening. He decided he was doing the right thing and he wouldn’t listen to any other opinions. He’d dedicated himself to this course and he wouldn’t be swayed. He’d gotten better about it in the last few years, but still had miles to go. “Maybe,” he granted, turning to look Dick, his eyes hardened to steel, “but he does know what it means to be abandoned.”

Chapter 22

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@dickinette-february @demonicbusiness @ichigorose @iloontjeboontje @ladybug-182 @toodaloo-kangaroo @dast218 @golden-promises @trippingovermyfeet @emimar7 @laurcad123 @lady-bee-fechin @thewitchwhowaited @redscarlet95

#maribat #dickinette #Dickinette February #platonic jasonette #platonic adrienette #Hope on Board #Knocked Up AU #prompt - talon

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pinkchanelbag · 3 years

Text

— there’s no one else; chapter two.

a jean kirstein x reader mafia au.

last | masterlist | next

series summary: a boy caught in a web with his survival depending on balancing niceties between his predators. a prim girl on thin ice that leads down the path of least resistance. no one too close and no one too far, no allegiance unquestioned, and no child whose value and future goes without evaluation like a playing card that determines their worth. to be destined for big things is more like being doomed to them, but that’s the way it goes. it’s just family matter.

chapter summary: the party begins.

wc: 1.9k.

cw: still nothing lol

note: putting this out short notice cause it’s JEANBOYS BIRTHDAYYY BABYYY anyway enjoy heeheee and my apologies for the slow plot thus far i swear it picks up trust me bro.

the venue is obnoxiously grand. the garden is more akin to a football field than anything else. there is no central lighting, but rather pure white string lights everywhere, everywhere. tucked behind and underneath tables and wrapped around trees and laying in the overhead greenery and in the bushes that act as walls. wherever you look, your eyes are strained, and you’re sure the dining hall can be seen from the moon.

speaking of the dining hall, the organizers cleverly blocked off the front entrance to the building so that one is forced to walk the expanse of the entire garden—surely to ooh and aah at its elegant taste—in order to get inside through the back door entrance. in other words, having to greet every single member of the family before so much as putting your clutch down.

you apply a friendly, attentive expression to your face each time pieck stops to greet someone new, having mastered the art of being engaged but not so engaged it’s troublesome, while in reality being completely disengaged in any way. as pieck converses with a bulky man drinking wine and you pick apart the key points (“we don’t got the ammo to make deals with top contractors—legal team in shambles—not good to have a weak spot”), really you are letting your eyes wander over the shrubbery which has been trimmed to perfection. yes, the lights are a pain and the band is too loud so early in the event, and there is not enough walking space between the bushes so people squeeze together to reach the large clearing of the garden. a perfectly obnoxious party, except you can’t help but appreciate the greenery. somehow, it is the only thing about this evening that doesn’t seem ridiculous. or maybe you’re just unusually irritated tonight.

your eyebrows knit so slightly at this realization. why are you being so disagreeable? impatience and intolerance seem to grow in your chest for no particular reason. you make a note to identify the source of your mood, and quickly resolve it. there’s work to be done.

karina braun is a kind, opinionated sheep of a woman. she is liked by all, and not because she’s particularly easy to like, but rather because she’s hard to hate. stuck in her times and not having much intellectual value, she is possibly the most important woman in all the families. being the mother of reiner braun and the head of the braun-galliard family, gives her luxury without responsibility. you’ve only met her once before, and she possessed the kind of ignorance many privileged older women have. but still she’s kind, so you can’t justify how she makes you weary.

her birthday, funnily enough, constitutes one of the very few gatherings that frowns upon trying to discuss family matter during the events, unlike a young girl’s birthday. it has to do with respect, you suppose.

you spend your first half-hour at the party hovering around pieck as she makes small talk with associates, becoming increasingly nervous at your lack of breakthrough in communication with the family. you know the most important thing is your encounter with karina, and that will open up further talks with others, but you stall to approach her, imperceptibly steering pieck further away from the centre table where the older woman sits. not yet.

“are you going to keep leading me through the same semi-circle, or are you just going to go talk to her?” pieck asks calmly. you curse her intelligence in your mind.

“i’m just nervous,” you murmur, smiling politely at a group of men at a distance that eyes you like the business deal you are.

“you should be, but that doesn’t change that you have to do it.” your eyes flick to look at the woman beside you for a moment. her expression is not encouraging or consoling, nor is it unsettling. it’s fitting. what you and pieck have is less than friendship but more than acquaintanceship. often you feel as thought she’s reading your emotions like an open book, which can be scary considering how many of them you really hide. but if and when she sees them, she doesn’t seem to care, whether they’re incriminating or worthy of sympathy. she sees you, and that is all. it’s not a comfort, nor a curse.

“what are you waiting for?” she says, but it’s a genuine question rather than a push to complete the task at hand. you realize you’re waiting for porco. you want porco at your side. you want his strength and his jagged-edged ambition, and the forcefulness that makes you do the things your heart has no energy for.

“i just think it would be better if the boys were here,” you breathe. again, pieck sees your meaning, and your fright, and leaves it be.

for the next eternity, you drink champagne and stretch back your memory to know if all parties are this boring once you become an adult, or if the braun family has a particular talent for making you crave the sight of paint drying. the closest thing to entertainment—and not the hired folk who attempt to call themselves singers—is gabi’s voice, which can be heard no matter where in the garden you stand. she tells stories, strikes up arguments, and gathers food and drink with her friends, all at top volume. for some reason, you don’t find amusement in this either, and really start to worry about this attitude problem you’ve got this night. to add on, porco’s meeting seems to stretch painfully long. it was a short-notice meeting, which either meant something very very good or very very bad—more so when he told you he was being picked up for it by reiner, colt, and annie. some of the most important family members gathering for an emergency meeting means trouble. your anxiety bubbles in your stomach, and you worry that your not approaching the woman of the hour is reaching a point where it might be seen as—rude.

the guests are alerted that dinner is ready. it’s not long before each person has situated themselves along the tables that line the large garden. the seating plan is loosely maintained, but you have nowhere near the entitlement to mingle among other tables. you find yours and stay at it, and it’s only then that you get an idea of just how many people are at this event. each table is packed, holding roughly six people, and there are too many to count in the chaos, but they create a semi-rectangle in three respective rows. you make out countless bodies but few faces, just an endless sea of tuxedos and lovely dresses. at the front of the garden is the head table, where karina sits alone save gabi’s bouncing body going back and forth. your table is is only a few feet from hers, but you take a seat that puts your back to her front so you don’t make the unforgivable mistake of accidental eye contact. you’re to sit with porco, and his table—the galliard table—is the one closest in importance to the braun table. you are the only one at the table, further reminder of porco’s tardiness. the longer you fiddle with the white cloth on the surface, the more you worry about what exactly the meeting could mean.

and then pieck comes and sits across from you without a word. as always, you know it’s only family matter—the concern that you look out of place—motivating her and not your obvious discomfort, but you’re grateful nonetheless.

as the servers stream into the garden like white-clad troops armed with dome platters, a champagne glass’s unmistakeable ding ding ding catches the attention of the guests. a table near karina’s opposite side, not quite flanking her but near enough to display some importance. a man stands with his glass raised, looking unfitting for the position with the way his arm hesitantly dips and re-straightens. bertholdt, yet another notable name in braun-galliard (and it’s your job to know all the names), seems to be the only person around able to give the welcome speech. it’s easy to listen only selectively to the announcements and shoutouts, disregarding all the thank yous and remember whens and listening in for honored guests (who are honored because they’ve proven themselves useful). luckily for you, bertholdt’s clumsy speech has a clear distinction between the two categories, his eyes downturned to cards in which he lists off important guests and whatever thing they did to end up on he list before him.

“a special welcome to general theo magath of the mexican military, who has been so generous to the family’s trade routes…” bertholdt’s words are careful, partly because of the nature of the things he is sharing, but also because all his actions have been careful since his fall from grace. formerly one of the most reliable heavy men in the family, bertholdt’s reputation was shot to hell when an important—very important—family member was killed on his watch. despite having happened years and years ago now, it took extensive efforts to just convince the higher-ups that he wasn’t in bed with the killer. it’s common knowledge that bertholdt’s incident was the first and last time someone “had it easy” from braun-galliard due to his close friendship with reiner himself.

“an especially relieving guest to see here tonight—“

and—finally—the stragglers stalk into the clearing. like most others, you hear of their arrival from the ripple of murmurs long before you see them, seeing as their whereabouts are blocked off by tables and bushes. a few people stand up, but are quickly beckoned to sit down again and redirect their attention to the speaker, who clears his throat nervously.

“carry on, bertholdt,” reiner’s affecting voice breaks through the space, and it’s enough to settle the audience, or at least have them pretend to pay attention while the late-comers shuffle through the outskirts of the tables to find their seats. bertholdt proceeds slowly.

“…a person i’m sure we will all come to rely on during this chaotic time…”

you catch the first glimpse of porco as he turns the final corner of the rectangle, reiner walking before him and colt and annie just behind. reiner is the first to arrive to his table, the invitees seeming to hold their chests a little taller for the family’s true head—in every way except on paper—as he slides into his seat and presses a kiss to his mother’s cheek.

“…a great legacy behind him and a bright career ahead, and we’re surely glad he’s kicked it off in our company…” bertholdt goes on. you and porco’s eyes meet, and immediately you know something is the matter; you’re just not sure if it’s fury or ecstasy in his gleam.

colt and annie find their seats in the table just after yours, and finally porco is near enough to see—and ignore—the look of alarmed curiosity on your face. he arrives to the table, giving pieck a look of “we’ll talk later,” and briefly stopping behind your chair. his calloused hands are on your arms for a moment, running up and down comfortingly.

“—a happy welcome to—“

“hey, doll.”

“—jean kirstein.”

and your eyes flick away from porco’s and into the crowd of faceless bodies, and the anxieties that kept your brain buzzing with life halt and collapse to the floor of your mind like dead flies.

jean?

#nia.tne #nia.jean #nia.txt #jean kirstein #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirschtein imagine #jean kirschtein headcanons #jean kirschstein #aot x reader #aot #attack on titan #snk #porco galliard x reader #porco galliard #pieck finger

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stanchonkyman · 3 years

Note

Can you do a fix where stan is jealous or a “treat you better” inspired one??

☆Treat You Better☆

♡Stanley Pines x Reader♡

I'll see what I can do!

TW: Abuse Mention!!

-•☆~~~~☆•-

You had been with your husband for 3 years now. He was such a sweetie. At least, that was how you saw him. Although, everything seemed to change once you both had gotten married. He wasn't as sweet anymore. He wasn't kind or gentle with you. He started pushing the idea of kids, even though you told him multiple times that you weren't ready. He just didnt seem to care about you or your feeling anymore. You felt... trapped.

So, one day you headed into work at the Mystery Shack. You weren't exactly in your prime at that moment. You had a forming bruise over your eye, heavier on your cheek. You had tried to cover it desperately with no luck unfortunately. As much as you hated to admit it, your husband wasn't who you thought he was. Last night was only showing the increasingly worsening situation. You had decided to raise your voice at your husband after he raised his to you. Bad idea.. he hit you sqaure in the face. It was not a good feeling.

You were terrified that people would mention it. That was the last thing you wanted. All you wanted was for everything yo go back to normal. So, you slid yourself into your space behind the counter, ready to ring up customers for their purchases. It was only a few moments before your boss appeared in the doorway with a group of tourists. You flashed your famous worker smile with a light wave. Some tourists gained worried faces while others waved back.

Stan turned to face your counter with his big shot grin. But once his eyes met your face, his smile faded. He walked to the counter while tourists explored the gift shop behind him. Stan had grown a soft spot for you over the years, and he didnt always ignore it. He laid his arm over the counter, looking over your face. You looked to the side quietly, not wanting to give any attention to the injury. "I'm sorry, I tried to cover it.." You mumbled. Stan shook his head. "No, no. I don't care. What happened?" He questioned. You bit your lip as the panic began to rise.

"I.. got hit with a baseball." You said, lying. "I was walking to work and some kids were playing. It was a hard hit.. but that's okay." You gave him a hopeful smile. Stan huffed slightly and stood up straight. "I see. Kids can be careless. Why don't you come with me for a moment?" He asked you. You gave a little nod as you moved out from behind the counter. His hand curled around your forearm as he pulled you towards the door.

He stepped outside and pulled you away from the Mystery Shack. You looked back toward your work place with a new feeling rising in your stomach. You just prayed that nothing bad would happen. You hoped to god that Stan wasn't upset with you. Stan then came to a stop and you looked over to him slightly. "Take a seat." Stan said, sitting down on a log in front of an empty firepit. You nodded and shyly sat beside him on the log.

Stan didn't even hesitate as he spoke. "So, who hit ya, kid?" He questioned, motioning to your face. "I-I told you.. I got hit with a baseball.." You mumbled quietly. He shook his head. "(Y/N), I know what a punch looks like when I see them. That is no ball bruise." Stan told you. "Besides. You've changed. You've seemed a lot more quiet and sad lately. What happened to you?" Stan asked. You froze, tears beginning to blur your vision. You merely looked down at your lap, trying hard to stop the tears. Stan reached over and pulled you closer by him. "So, I was correct." He rubbed your arm in a comforting way.

"Who did it, kid?" He asked you again. Warm tears began to roll down your cheeks, you tried your best to keep quiet about it. "You know I just want to protect ya', kid." He told you in a low voice. You took a deep breath and turned to.him, burying your face against him in light sobs. Stan looked at you, hesitant, then he carefully wrapped his arms around you. "You know I care about ya'. It hurts me to see you hurting." He told you, rubbing small circles on your back.

It took you a few moments to collect yourself.

"M-My husband.. he did it.."

You could feel Stan freeze. He stopped rubbing your back. He lifted his head and looked at you with near disbelief. "Your husband?" He questioned. You gave a small nod. "Yes.. my husband.. He just.. hasn't been the same since we got married." You mumbled. "I really messed this one up." Your voice cracked and you nearly broke down in tears again. Stan shook his head. "No. No. Tr his isnt your fault. Not your fault at all." He told you, standing up and taking your hands in his. "Come with me." He lifted you up and guided you down a path.

You held onto his hand as if it was the only thing protecting you in the moment. He guided you out to the lake, standing on the dock with you. "Now, I want you to take off your ring." He told you, letting go of your hand. You looked at him, then down at your hand as you began to shake slightly. "I-I don't know..." you mumbled. "Trust me, (Y/N). If he's hit you.. he could easily do it again. This ain't good for you or your safety." He told you. "But.. where am I going to go..?" You question softly. "You'll stay with me. I'll help you get back up on your feet." He said. "I could treat you far better than that dick."

You looked at him quietly. He gave you a reassuring smile with a nod and a thumbs up. You looked out on the lake then took off your ring. You took a deep breath, then chucked it out as far as you could. It fell into the lake. Never to be seen again. You felt where it used to be on your finger. It felt so empty now.. but you didn't feel quite as empty as your finger. You turned to face Stan again. "Good job, kiddo. Amazing start." He grinned. You smiled back, then heading forward and wrapping him in a tight hug.

"Thank you so much, Stan.."

Stan smiled toward you, wrapping his arms around you in return.

"Anytime, kid."

☆2 Months Later☆

You had been living in the Mystery Shack with everyone for 2 months now. Your 'husband' had been blowing up your phone and trying to put you up as a missing person. Although, Stan had already confirmed that you werent missing, and you explained your situation to the officers. So, you were living a lot better. You had become so much happier and so much more comfortable. You were finishing up ringing up the last customers of the day when Stan appeared in the doorway. You looked at him as you finished ringing up the customer.

"Hey toots." He greeted, walking to your counter. You chuckled and gave a bright smile. "Hey Stan. How was business with the tours?" You asked, sliding out from behind the counter. "It was pretty good. Another day." Stan smiled toward you. "I'm happy to hear that!" You returned the smile as there was a harsh knock on the door. Both of your heads whipped in the direction of the door as it opened. Your heart dropped into your stomach when you saw the familiar face of your husband.

"Well. Hiding behind your boss, I see." Your husband snarled at you. "You're really trying to divorce me without even looking me in the eye?" He asked you. Stan grabbed your arm and pulled you behind him. "Hey. You're not allowed here. Get out before I take you out myself." Stan barked at him. "You're really going to try and stop me from seeing my partner?" He snarled. "They ain't your partner anymore, pal! Scram!" Stan shouted at him. "I just want them back." He barked back at him. "I said, they ain't yours!" Before you could process, Stan punched your husband straight in the face. He stumbled back, his cheek bleeding slightly from Stan's brass knuckles.

"Get outta here before you end up in prison." Stan snarled. Your husband snarled and left, holding his cheek. Stan looked back at you. Your eyes were wide and you were visibly shaking. "Hey- Hey. Its okay-" Stan moved forward and took you into his arms carefully. You laid your head against his chest softly. "Are you alright?" He asked. You nodded. "I'm fine, are you..?" You ask. He nods. "Everythings fine. Dont worry about it." He said, pulling you back into the house part of the shack.

Throughout the next few months, Stan and you would stick together. You truly cared for one another. Stan helped your officiate the divorce with your now ex husband. And about two years later, you were ready to start new. Stan was right there with you for the ride. He would always support you no matter what. Maybe that's why you loved him so much. You both were already so close and barely did a thing without the other. So, yes. The both of you ended up together. He loved you. You loved him. And the both of you were happy to spend the rest of your lives together

#stanley pines/reader #stanley pines x reader #stan pines x reader #grunkle stan x reader #stan pines/reader #gravity falls #grunkle stan #stanley pines #stanley pines headcanon #stanley x reader #stan x reader #reader insert #gravity falls x reader

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usergreenpixel · 3 years

Text

Frev prompts, Part 3! Enjoy!

13. A young female protagonist is desperate for a job to support her family and is hired by an older woman named Charlotte, who lives a rather reclusive and secretive life.

Slowly, Charlotte and the young girl bond over their mutual feelings of loneliness and loss of close family. The two become unlikely yet close friends.

Such close friends that when Charlotte gets arrested and the memoirs she is writing get stolen, the young girl decides to launch an investigation to find the memoirs and clear her friend’s name, only to find out that her friend isn’t quite as ordinary and simple as she seems to be.

14. A noblewoman fakes her death and flees to Paris while disguised as a man in order to escape a corrupt and abusive fiancé who is only interested in her money and is much older than her.

In Paris, while living under a fake identity, the heroine quickly becomes acutely aware of multiple issues plaguing the country and joins a certain political club in order to attempt to make France a better place.

But as things in the city begin escalating and the situation becomes more complicated, it gets harder and harder for the noblewoman to keep her true identity a secret.

How long will she be able to keep the charade up?

15. The protagonist makes a mistake and instead of saving their imprisoned brother they end up busting out one of the revolutionaries who are now deemed outlaws.

The protagonist still wants to help their brother while the revolutionary wants to save his friends, so the two team up and plan a good old prison break, ready to achieve their goals at any cost.

16. The protagonist, who has just lost their family during the massacres in Lyon, travels to Paris in hopes to report the atrocities to the Committee of Public Safety and bring the men responsible for the bloodbath to justice.

Unfortunately, the cruel men are not exactly eager to let a witness get away and send their goons to catch and silence the escaping youth before they can reach Paris.

Will the protagonist outwit their pursuers in this twisted “cat and mouse” chase?

17. An exchange student who is currently studying in France is desperate to make new friends. A group of rather reckless kids agree to become friends with the protagonist, but only on the condition that they spend a night in a supposedly haunted French Revolution-themed museum.

When the protagonist enters the museum, strange things begin to happen (ghosts, time travel, living statues or something else) and now they have to figure out the reason why that is the case. That and try to make it out in one piece, of course.

18. As unrealistic as that sounds, a simple wish made upon a star transports the protagonist into the era of the French Revolution where they decide to change history and make sure that the “evil” Robespierre never comes to the power that he supposedly ended up having.

But when the protagonist and Robespierre are coincidentally captured by the same people and have no choice but to cooperate if they wish to be free again, the protagonist begins to wonder if messing with history is really such a good idea.

Maybe, just maybe, history is indeed written by the victors and Robespierre is not all that bad.

19. A seemingly ordinary widow who is living in the countryside and raising her children by herself hides a revolutionary in her house so the Thermidorians don’t get to him.

Now the entire family must conceal the fact that he is alive and do everything they can to save his life and eventually get him to safety.

It won’t be easy but then again, when has doing the right thing been easy?

As the revolutionary spends time in hiding, assembling whoever he can still count on to rebel against the traitors, he finds himself forming an increasingly close bond with the family that has rescued him and little does said family know that the presence of the revolutionary in their house is about to change their lives in a way that nobody could have ever foreseen.

20. On the day of their graduation, the protagonist receives a present from their new stepmother, an owner of a fairly small local antique shop.

The present in question? A pair of old-fashioned glasses with green lenses to help with the protagonist’s vision problems. The protagonist likes the color green and antique things so they are overjoyed to get such a unique gift.

Unfortunately, upon receiving the glasses, the protagonist notices disturbing things happen to them - nightmares, memories that clearly aren’t theirs since they are about the French Revolution, mysteriously familiar voices in their head...None of it makes sense.

Unable to get rid of these symptoms via therapy nor medications, the protagonist resolves to crack this case and find out the exact reason why they have all the strange symptoms by taking a gap year trip to France and visiting the places to which the voices guide them.

Who knows, perhaps this investigation can even help the protagonist find out the true reason behind the strange phantom pain in their jaw and their seemingly irrational fear of blades.

Only one way to know for sure.

#french revolution #writing prompts #creative writing #frev #french history #writing #charlotte robespierre #maximilien robespierre

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ibijau · 3 years

Text

Futures Past pt16 / on AO3

Nie Huaisang learns more about his future self, and gets burdened with yet another annoying mission

Winter was never Nie Huaisang’s favourite season to begin with. It was cold, and wet, and grey, and generally unpleasant in every possible way. To make it worse, that year he wasn’t even allowed to head out of the Unclean Realm for a bit of bird watching, nor indeed to go alone in Qinghe to check the food, or just wander around and have fun. Nie Mingjue might not have been too upset about his brother failing his classes but he was still generally angry. He had apparently been worried sick about him disappearing, fearing the Wens had decided to take his brother from him, after having murdered his father.

After Nie Mingjue had confessed that fear to him one evening, Nie Huaisang stopped complaining against being grounded. Once, merely a year earlier, he would have called his brother paranoiac for jumping to that conclusion, and continued whining until he got his punishment lifted. Now though, with his older self’s promise of a war to come… It made him wish he could have found another way to rescue Xue Yang from his fate without worrying his brother. It also pushed him to make more of an effort to be a nice and obedient brother, though all that got him was Nie Mingjue thinking he’d gotten sick and asking the sect's doctor to check on him several times.

So Nie Huaisang was stuck in the Unclean Realm, bored beyond belief, constantly aching from all the training his monster of a brother forced him to do, wishing he could just go for a walk and do a bit of bird watching or find a nice landscape to paint. It was truly hell. Though at least, being constantly home gave him a chance to practice the guqin (he’d bought one of his own on the one and only outing to Qinghe he’d been allowed, after which Nie Mingjue complained at length about him spending too much money as always) and to keep a close eye on Xue Yang. That was nearly a full time job.

It was almost a relief when one night, his future self appeared in his room as he was preparing for bed. Unpleasant as their encounters tended to be, at least Nie Huaisang would know if his great plan had worked. So he sat cross-legged on his bed, and waited for the scolding that was sure to come.

“I should have come earlier,” his future self said with some annoyance, looking no angrier than he always did. “But my last visit drained me more than planned. When are you returning to the Cloud Recesses?”

“In a week,” Nie Huaisang mumbled, pointing at a pile of trinkets he’d just gotten around to unpacking from his previous stay. “Da-ge said to wait until after the new years celebration to start preparing, because I always bother the servants otherwise, and they’re busy enough already, and…”

“How is da-ge?” his future self interrupted. “Didn’t he hurt himself during a Night Hunt around this time?”

Nie Huaisang nodded. It had worried everyone when Nie Mingjue had returned from a Night Hunt with long gashes on his chest due to a particularly nasty fierce corpse, and they’d all made a big fuss of it. But in the end it hadn’t been anything threatening, and Nie Mingjue had healed quickly. In fact, he was currently absent on another Night Hunt, this time with Lan Xichen. That didn’t seem like a detail worth mentioning.

“Hey, can I ask you a question?” Nie Huaisang said, increasingly puzzled that his older self wasn’t scolding him yet. “It’s just, I’ve been wondering, you know and… well, is he alive now?”

His future self glared at him.

“What?”

“Da-ge,” Nie Huaisang clarified. “I’ve changed things, right? He’s got to be alive in the future now, right? You’re not on your own anymore, are you?”

His older self went still and stared at him with wide, shining eyes. He opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out. After a moment the older man regained control of himself and turned away, opening his fan with a sharp gesture.

“That’s not how it works,” he hissed. “I thought it would be, but… but it’s not. I cannot change what has happened for me. My da-ge is dead, and nothing can change what happened to him. It’s… I don’t care. I’ve made my peace with that. He wouldn’t like what I’ve become anyway, and I couldn’t bear to lose him again, not like that. But I need to know…”

He paused, and Nie Huaisang thought he heard a soft sob.

“I have to know there’s a place out there where da-ge is alive. Not just alive, but he’s safe, he’s happy. No matter the cost to others and to myself, as long as da-ge is well… that’s what matters to me.”

For all the dislike Nie Huaisang had accumulated toward his older self, his heart ached to know that the man would never even get a chance to see Nie Mingjue again. It made him want to take his older self to have a chat with their brother, to see Nie Mingjue smile at him. Maybe he’d be a little less of a prick like that.

But since his older self was a prick, and unlikely to accept such an offer, Nie Huaisang instead jumped off his bed and went to take his hand to comfort him.

“I’m really sorry,” he said. “Thanks for… thanks for saving my da-ge. I’m so sorry for yours, it must be…”

His older self turned around, tearing his hand free with such rage that Nie Huaisang stumbled a few steps backwards.

“I won’t be pitied by anyone!” the man hissed. “I’m not sorry for myself, and I forbid you to pity me, you stupid little brat! If I’d been smarter at your age I wouldn’t have let him die, so how dare you pity me?”

Nie Huaisang lowered his head and hunched his shoulders. His older self should have been happy: any pity he’d felt vanished instantly.

“Now tell me what I came here for,” his older self ordered. “Is Xue Yang dead?”

“He is,” Nie Huaisang lied, and he found it easier than he’d have expected, now that he knew the truth couldn't be discovered.

A certain tension left his older self’s shoulders at that answer. In fact, he seemed relieved enough that it worried Nie Huaisang a little, and almost made him confess the truth. If Xue Yang was really fated to become such a horrible person…

But he wasn’t horrible. Not yet, anyway. No more than a lot of other people were.

Xue Yang was a brat, sure. And he struggled with a lot of common decency, doing things like stealing from other kids, or stashing food away, or trying to fight teachers that disciplined him. But in those few weeks, Xue Yang had also made a lot of progress already. He’d started understanding that nobody would let him starve, so he didn’t need to hide food that would rot somewhere, and should instead eat everything that was presented to him right away if he was hungry. He was also slowly learning to accept that, a lot of the time, if he needed something he could ask for it instead of stealing it from someone. He still had a problem with authority, and that might never change, but he sometimes seemed to understand that the teachers were not his enemies, that they only wanted to help him learn.

But the turning point had happened just three days earlier. Xue Yang, with great reluctance, had finally explained how he’d lost his finger. From the defensive manner he told that story to Nie Huaisang and Nie Mingjue, it was likely that those he’d shared it with before might have mocked him for being naive enough to think he'd ever have gotten the sweet he'd been pormised. But Nie Mingjue, instead, asked if he remembered any names or precise locations, if he could recall when it had all happened, any details at all that might help if they decided to confront Chang Ci’an for what he’d done. In the end, Xue Yang’s memory had been too fuzzy to think of building up a case, something for which Nie Mingjue had expressed great regret, before saying he'd still keep an eye open in case he might discover who was the man whom Chang Ci'an had insulted.

The expression on Xue Yang’s face was one that Nie Huaisang wouldn’t ever forget. He’d looked… young. Like he really was an ordinary ten years old kid, instead of the tough criminal he tried to be. Like he might cry, just because someone was showing just and deserved horror over what had been done to him.

There was no saying whether Xue Yang would turn out good or not, whether the efforts of Qinghe Nie would be enough to bring him onto a more righteous path than would have been his, but they were going to try.

“This is wonderful,” Nie Huaisang’s older self said, fanning himself a little too fast, as if unable to contain his excitement. “I’ve always hated that little creep, even before he started slaughtering entire sects. Now the world is safe from that at least, and that’s one worry less for da-ge. Now, on to your next mission…”

“Are you ever going to stop giving me orders?” Nie Huaisang complained. “Every time I do something you say, you tell me there’s more to do!”

“Welcome to adulthood. Now shut up.”

But I’m not an adult, Nie Huaisang thought. He was just going to turn sixteen, there was an entire four years before he’d be considered fully grown. Even Nie Mingjue, who always complained about him being an immature brat, never actually demanded from him the things he’d have expected from an adult. After all, Nie Mingjue knew too well what it was to be forced to leave one’s youth behind too early, and he’d said multiple times he didn’t want that for his brother.

Too bad Nie Huaisang couldn’t extend the same courtesy to himself.

“I’ve had to give a lot of thought to the problem that is Wei Wuxian,” his older self said, starting to pace the room. “I still haven’t come up with a satisfying answer. On the one hand, it was so convenient to all of us when he left the established path during the Sunshot Campaign and became a horrifying master of death. But I can’t decide if it’s worth all the trouble it created after the war, when his new skills were no longer required. And it’s not like I could ask you to simply kill him after he’s stopped being useful because…”

“I appreciate that, actually.”

“I can’t ask you to kill him because you’d never be able to,” his older self dryly finished, pausing his pacing just long enough for a glare before he resumed walking. “Wei Wuxian is only the most brilliant cultivator of our generation, skilled in every martial art, a genius who has invented talismans and tools beyond your imagination. He’s already so talented you could never harm him now. By the time the war ends, the only way he could die is through self-destruction, as we’ve all come to learn.”

That sounded scary and, quite frankly, Nie Huaisang wasn’t sure he wanted to get anywhere near such a person. Geniuses tended to be difficult to deal with. Like his own brother, who was always so intense about everything, and didn’t have any hobbies except cultivation and leading their sect. Or Lan Wangji who was very intense as well, and had even less conversation than Nie Mingjue. Or Lan Xichen who…

Well. Actually, Lan Xichen wasn’t so bad these days. In fact, Nie Huaisang missed their music lessons, and he missed chatting together immensely, because Lan Xichen was one of the most interesting people he knew, along with Su She. Nie Huaisang couldn't wait to see him again. But it had taken a while to get there, and before they’d found common ground, Lan Xichen too had been boring and difficult to get along with.

The problem with geniuses, Nie Huaisang figured, was that they didn’t know how to have fun.

“Here is what we are going to do,” his older self announced, stopping his pacing and closing his fan to point it at Nie Huaisang. “You are going to befriend Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng, as you were always meant to do. But you must also get closer to Lan Wangi…”

“What? But he’s awful!”

“...and make sure he befriends Wei Wuxian as well. None of that pining for a lifetime nonsense! If they become close earlier and realise their love as youths, then Wei Wuxian will probably not go dark quite as easily as he’s done from where I stand. And Jin Guangshan will hesitate a little more to antagonise Wei Wuxian if he thinks Gusu Lan too has close ties to him. Yunmeng Jiang was easy to pick on, but Gusu Lan is of a different class. Its sect leader might have been spineless, but anybody would think twice before crossing Lan Wangji. I think that’s our best course of action.”

Even more than before, Nie Huaisang became convinced that this Wei Wuxian had to be the least fun person in the world. After all, if someone like Lan Wangji could fall in love with a person, then that person had to be absolutely awful and boring. Wei Wuxian was probably a stickler for rules too.

“Can’t I just help them without being their friend?” Nie Huaisang begged.

“Why wouldn’t you want to be Wei Wuxian’s friend?” his future self retorted, sounding puzzled by the request. “Whatever else he becomes later, I remember he was one of my favourite people when we studied together. I’ve always felt it was a shame he got kicked out so early. If he had stayed longer…”

The older man trailed off, his hand clenching on his fan, then promptly shook his head

“Nevermind,” he muttered. “Jiang Cheng was there the whole year, and that didn’t change anything to how shallow our friendship turned out to be. Just… just make sure to get them to like you, and help Wei Wuxian befriend Lan Wangji. But don’t get attached. No matter what promises you exchange with others, remember you don’t actually matter to anyone, so don’t let them matter to you either.”

“I won’t,” Nie Huaisang easily promised.

He didn’t think he was at any risk of ever liking someone who had Lan Wangji’s approval. And as for Jiang Cheng, Nie Huaisang had thought him to be a pretty interesting person when they’d met in Yunping City, but he was fairly sure the feeling was not mutual in the least.

“Excellent. I’ll cut this visit short then,” his older self announced. “Hopefully I will have recuperated enough for a brief visit in a month to hear about your progress. At worst, I’ll check on you for Qingming. Do not disappoint me.”

“I’ll try,” Nie Huaisang promised, but the older man had already disappeared.

It sounded like he had a very boring year ahead of himself.

And to make it worse, Su She was going to be so annoyed if he started hanging out with Lan Wangji.

#xisang #nie huaisang #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #jau writes #double time travel

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heliads · 3 years

Text

Pining

Maybe you happen to have a crush on Luke Patterson. Maybe it hurts you more than you want to admit to see him perform so well with Julie. And maybe, just maybe, he might like you back.

masterlist

All around you is the buzz of conversation. Julie’s just about to perform with the boys, and this garage party is starting to come alive. A red plastic cup in your hand, the smiles of all of your friends, what more could you ask for? It’s shaping up to be a perfect night.

Ray waves hello at you from behind his camera, and you smile back in return. Julie is a good friend of yours, and you’d been here almost all day, helping set up. You’ve known about the truth behind the ‘holograms’ as long as Flynn, but you found out pretty early on that you have a secret of your own: you can see the boys just like Julie can.

You’re not sure why you can see the ghosts- you don’t have any connection to their past or dead mothers to guide your way. All you have is the simple fact that you can see them. The boys are happy to have someone else to talk to, and you’re happy for the sunny afternoons when school is out and you and Julie head to her mom’s studio, which is full of endless conversation and good memories.

As you weave your way through the increasingly crowded backyard, you spot your friend Nick. You realize with a grin that he looks desperately uncomfortable because Carrie, his ex, is trying her hardest to convince him of some undoubtedly cruel truth. You walk briskly over to them, and Nick lets out a sigh of relief when Carrie leaves after taking one judgmental look at you.

“Figured you needed a break from that conversation.” You grin, and Nick nods gratefully. “Trust me, the last thing I want to be doing right now is listen to Carrie try to get me to hate Julie and anyone who’s ever spoken to her. You’re the best.” You laugh. “We’re friends, it’s my job.”

Flynn speaks to the party now, introducing the upcoming performance. Julie comes out of the studio and begins to play. You can’t hide your grin as you watch her sing, and your smile only broadens at the smitten look on Nick’s face. With a whir and a click, the ‘holograms’ flicker to life and suddenly, the rest of the band is there, playing their hearts out.

You do your best to fake surprise, exchanging a knowing look with Flynn. You and Nick dance along to the music. Man, if there’s one thing Julie and the boys can do, it’s put on a pretty good show.

As the song progresses, you laugh lightly at Nick. “I feel like you should at least try not to be that openly in love with Julie. I think she’ll get nervous at the strength of your obsession with her.” Nick swats your shoulder playfully. “Oh, come on. I’m not that bad- at least not next to your crush on Luke.” You turn to him, mouth open in mock horror. “Excuse me?” Now Nick’s laughing at you, too. “Look at yourself! You can’t take your eyes off of him!”

You try to glare at him, but just dissolve into laughter. “We all make mistakes. Some of those just happen to be with the cutest member of a Swedish hologram band.” Nick grins. “And you’re making fun of me for crushing on Julie. At least she knows who I am.” You pout. “He does know who I am! I’m Julie’s friend- she probably said my name at least once.”

As the two of you exchange laughter and jokes, you watch as Julie walks over to the piano for her solo portion of the song. She’s an amazing singer, and you let a grin slide across your face. This smile starts to slip, though, as Luke approaches her, guitar in hand. As he strums out a solo of his own, Julie finally faces him, and the look in their eyes feels like it could tear your heart in two.

You’re not sure what you expected, falling in love with Luke. Of course he wouldn’t love you back- not when he has Julie. She’s wonderful, and has a wonderful voice. Music is so important to Luke, and you’re nothing compared to everything Julie has. As the rest of the band fades away, leaving Luke and Julie sweetly singing to each other on the piano, you see your same heartbroken look reflected in Nick’s eyes.

You nudge him gently. “If you want to get out of here, I’ll make up some excuse for you. I know neither of us really want to be here anymore.” Nick nods appreciatively. “What about you? I know it’s hurting you to see them together just as much as it does for me.” You sigh, looking back at the piano. “At least one of us should be happy.” Nick touches your shoulder once, as if to thank you in all the words he couldn’t say, then turns and leaves quietly.

After the party, you help Julie clean up, but your heart’s not really in it. Watching Luke and Julie perform together today basically cemented the unhappy truth that you would never be anything more to him than Julie’s friend. Were you even his friend? Did he care about you at all?

Once most of the party debris is gone, you head over to Julie. “I’m going to head out. I want to be home before it gets too late. You were amazing out there, by the way.” Julie hugs you goodbye. “Thanks, Y/N. The boys are back in the studio if you want to say bye to them, too.” You nod your thanks and walk around to the studio doors.

The boys are helping clean up in the studio, too. Well, helping is a bit of an overstatement. Reggie is doing his best to pick up plastic cups, but he gets distracted every few minutes and puts his collected cups down on any available surface to go mess around with some other corner of the studio. Alex is examining his drums again, and Luke is scribbling something in his notebook. You stand awkwardly in the door for a minute before Reggie notices you and comes bouncing over.

“Hey, Y/N! Did you like our show?” You can’t help but grin at him. “Yeah, you guys were great. I wouldn’t be surprised if you get a ton of calls from talent scouts.” Reggie beams at you. “You’re so nice.” You head inside, exchanging a few words with Alex before turning to Luke. Surprisingly, Luke looks up at you once and then turns away, clearly ignoring you.

You frown at Alex in confusion, but he just shrugs and looks as surprised as you. You walk over to Luke, but he still doesn’t look at you. You turn back around, but Alex and Reggie have gone, clearly sensing that something was about to happen and not wanting to be there when everything blew up. You can hardly blame them.

You force yourself to speak. “Is there a reason you’re ignoring me?” Luke scoffs. “I’m surprised you noticed.” Confused, you walk closer to him. “What are you talking about? I’ve been here almost the whole afternoon.” Luke finally looks at you, and you’re surprised to see that he looks almost resentful.

“You were there for Julie. It’s not the same.” You let out an incredulous laugh. “Luke, why are you so angry? I haven’t done anything to you.” He just shakes his head. “How about you go ask Nick? I’m sure he’d want to spend a lot of time with you.”

You feel like you’re in a haze. You’re starting to realize why Luke’s so angry, but it doesn’t make sense. It would never happen- but what else would explain his behavior? “Are you upset because I was talking to Nick during the party? He’s my friend, what else was I supposed to do?” Luke stands up, moving until he’s only a few feet away from you.

“If talking’s what you want to call it, fine. You were practically hanging off of him.” You don’t know how to respond, or what to say, or what to do. You don’t want to be here anymore, reminded of how Luke will always like Julie more than you. You straighten, and face Luke with last-ditch confidence. “Nick and I were talking about his crush on Julie. We were so close because you seemed way more interested in Julie than anyone else there. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll leave you with her, since you clearly care more about her. I mean, what else was the point of that solo at the end?”

You spin around and start walking away until a hand closes around your waist, forcing you to turn back. Luke looks at you again, a smile spreading across his face instead of the glare that had been there just moments before. “I don’t like Julie, Y/N. I like you.” You can’t do anything but stare at him. “What?” Luke wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer to him. “I did that solo in the end because I saw you talking to Nick, and I thought you liked him instead.”

A slow smile graces your lips. “You were that jealous?” Luke lets out a playfully indignant breath. “Well, I don’t know about that. Maybe.” You can’t help but smile, and hold him close. Maybe things have a way of working out after all.

#julie and the phantoms #luke patterson #luke patterson imagine #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson imagines #julie and the phantoms luke #luke imagine #luke x reader #luke imagines #jatp #jatp luke #jatp luke imagines #julie and the phantoms imagines

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murderousginger · 3 years

Text

Everybody Talks

Tommy x OC

Song here requested by @imagine-that-100 ❤️

Warnings: None. They're criminals guys, they do bad things.

Word count: 1638

He had been watching her since she entered the busy Garrison alone. She had walked to the bar, her head high as she moved through the men and sat at one of the few open seats near Harry. The men had parted easily, their tired eyes sharpening as they noticed the woman's bright dress practically shining against the dirt and drab colors of their work uniforms.

A flurry of "ma'am" and head dips were left in her wake. She simply smiled and continued on as the men searched for her invisible escort.

Tommy watched from the booze door in the private room tucked beside the bar.

Harry hadn't noticed her yet; too busy getting the Blinders their drinks, blustering about with a curse under his breath. Tom waited, watching the men grow increasingly uneasy around the woman as they realized she had no escort.

Harry brought a bottle and multiple glasses to the booze door, mumbling apologies for the wait.

"Right busy night, it is," Harry said as he handed the goods over.

"The woman," Tom said, "she's not a regular."

"I seen her," Harry grumbled. "I'll kick her out next. No trace of a man at her side."

"No," Tom said. "Explain the rule, but give her the drink. Then send her my way."

"I can deal with a whore, Tom," Harry stammered. "You no need to get involved."

Tom met Harry's eyes for a moment as he licked his lip, his brows curling together before he closed the booze door and sat back down around his brothers.

"What are you bothering with small business, brother?" Arthur said as he slid the bottle and a glass to himself and started to pour a drink.

"She pretty, then?" John laughed. "That's what it is, in it?"

Arthur looked at John before looking at Tommy, who had settled in to the spot directly in front of the door without saying a word. He muttered a curse and started to chuckle to himself as he passed John the bottle.

"Well lookit that," Arthur said as he leaned back. "Our brother's still warm blooded after all."

Moments later she walked in the room without a knock, looking between the bored man in front of her and the two slack-jawed men sitting further away.

"I see," Arthur murmured behind his glass.

"Who bloody well couldn't," John said louder, earning an elbow to his side.

"Right," the woman said, returning her gaze to Tommy.

"What kind of man sends another man to bring a girl over?" She asked, one eyebrow raised. Whether it was in defiance or amusement remained unknown.

He paused, waiting a breath or two, eyes locked on hers as the gears in his head churned. He wasn't slow -- quite the opposite -- but he learned at a young age that making people wait on you makes them uncomfortable. Makes them feel like they need you. And it gave him time to decide his next ten moves.

"The important kind," he finally said, even toned, practically bored in comparison to her voice.

"You don't look so important to me," she said as her eyes ran over his vest, shirt, coat. Her voice danced around like a sprite on a summer's breeze. "Nice enough outfit, but nothing flashy enough to mean money or any real power."

She took a sip of her drink, reenacting Tommy's pause. John barked a laugh.

"Bird's got a mouth on her," he said as he rolled next to Arthur, who was doing his best to hide his smile in his moustache.

"My brothers were just leaving," Tommy said, pulling out a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it. "Sit."

Arthur broke into a grin as John climbed over him and they both rolled out of the booth. John stumbled to his feet and grabbed the bottle off the table as he saluted his brother, making eyes at the woman as he brushed past her. Arthur stood and tried to walk by her with a nod and a "ma'am" before shooting his eyebrows up suggestively behind her toward Tom.

"You're not from here," Tommy said once the brothers shut the door as he eyed her new dress. "Too clean cut to be from a local family."

"I'm Mary's cousin, Elsie," she offered with a smirk. "From London. My father decided I was too wild and sent me to dirty little Small Heath to find a job and be a proper girl."

"Your father sent you to Small Heath to be proper?" Tom said as his brows raised and he smirked into the cigarette dangling from his lips. "That may well be a first, Elsie."

He rolled her name around his tongue, appraising the woman in front of him. Her dress was stiff and bright, as if she had never worn it before, but it fit her like a glove. She was either from money or waltzed into Small Heath hoping to make an impression.

"I thought I told you to sit."

"You did," Elsie said as she casually sipped her drink. "You never got up to let me in beside you or given me your name."

"Tommy," he said, standing to let her slide beside him in the booth. "Tommy Shelby."

"Tommy, not Tom or Thomas?" She smiled as she brushed past him. She smelled of strawberries and rum. "How cute."

They toyed with each other through the night, pressing boundaries and examining each other like a new creature they discovered. Tommy was intrigued. It has been so long since someone hadn't flinched at the name Shelby.

At the end of the night, he offered to take her home. Elsie smiled, playing with the lapel of his jacket before looking up at him and shaking her head no.

"Can I kiss you, Elsie?" Tommy asked, suddenly very aware how close their faces were.

He licked his lips and could almost feel her breath on his tongue. She looked up at him with her bright eyes and kissed him first. He froze, confused for a moment before he melted into her warm kiss. Her hand at his lapel wrapped around the fabric and pulled him closer as his hand found her cheek.

"Money's counted and everything's cleaned, boss, do you want me to leave you--" Harry said as he walked through the door, nearly hitting them both. He grunted and swiftly tossed a stack of money on the table before closing the door behind him.

Elsie pulled away at the noise, her eyes wide as Harry rushed out. She looked up at Tommy, giggling in embarrassment as she pressed her face into his neck and shoulder.

"I believe that's my cue," she said as she took a step back. "I'll see you around, Mr. Shelby."

Tommy had never felt such a chill as he did when she left his side and disappeared into the night.

---

Weeks later, Elsie had found herself a respectable job as a seamstress apprentice at a suit shop on the edge of Small Heath. She had settled in fine after she got in terrible for her first night in town when she had visited The Garrison.

Something she would have to get used to. The place was too small, too interwoven to allow her to move without eyes following and mouths wagging back to her relatives. But the gossip of a small town hadn't been all unwelcome. She had learned quickly that Tommy Shelby had been an important man just as he had said he was.

Her face scrunched as she concentrated on the hem she was mending. She heard the bell for the door ring but she was too busy to look up. She heard one of the other girls greet the customer and went back to concentrating on the garment she was working on.

"Elsie?" Mrs. Lundy called, "I need help with pinning this man's jacket, be a dear and come help."

Elsie sighed, frustrated at the interruption, and set the garment down on the counter as she headed to the back where the fitting rooms were. She grabbed a cushion of pins as she rounded the corner and saw a familiar set of blue eyes.

"Elsie, dear," Mrs. Lundy said, her smile tight, "this is Mr. Shelby, he's--"

"A very important man," you finished for her as your eyes dipped to his jacket. "Yes, I've heard of the Shelbys."

"Have you?" Tommy said amusedly.

"Yes sir," Elsie said firmly as Mrs. Lundy instructed her to pin the bottom as she pinned his sleeves. "Everybody talks."

She no longer would meet his eye and her playfulness had disappeared.

"So you have," he said evenly, looking back to the wall as they finished.

After a few moments, Tommy cleared his throat.

"Mrs. Lundy, if you could be so kind as to tidy up my bill, your apprentice can finish the last few pins," he said to the woman. "I've got business to attend to and really must be off."

"Of course, of course, Mr. Shelby," Mrs. Lundy said with a smile as she shot a look to Elsie, who was almost done with her pins. She disappeared quickly to the register.

"What happened to the reckless girl at the pub, eh?" Tommy said as Elsie checked over the pins on his sleeves. "I'd like to see her again."

"She's in trouble for spending her first night at a pub with a gangster," Elsie sighed. "I didn't know you were dangerous."

"Who said I was dangerous to you?"

"Everyone."

"Everyone talks too much," Tommy sighed as Elsie took off his jacket. "Especially in Small Heath. Have dinner with me."

"Is that a request or an order?" Elsie snapped as she folded the jacket. She stilled as her eyes grew wide.

Tommy's eyebrow raised as he fought a smile.

"There she is."

#tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinder fanfic #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #storytime with murderousginger #tommy shelby x oc #john shelby #arthur shelby

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dirty-holy-things · 3 years

Text

The Space Between (your heart & mine)

Chapter 16 has been posted to Ao3, and below to Tumblr. Catch up on chapters 1-15 on Ao3.

Notes: 18+, explicit!!!! This chapter is the ‘burn’ of the slow burn we’ve been developing for 15 chapters. We’re finally there, for those of you who have been long-time readers. Please note, I’ve never written this much smut before. It’s A LOT, and I mean a lot of this chapter. M & F, oral receiving and penetration. Unprotected sex for the sake of storytelling, but please wrap it before you tap it IRL. Praise kink, because Din and Reader need validation. Some fun and adventurous positioning and activities. Also, very romantic ending.

Words: 9.1k update, 75.7k total.

If you would like to be added to my taglist, please fill out this form!

Having stepped into the dimly-lit club, your eyes took a moment to adjust and take in the scene around you. Low-slung leather chairs and booths were scattered throughout the dark room, their occupants being some of the more fearful individuals in the galaxy. These cruel and cunning men, however, were in varying states of disarray due to the large amounts of alcohol and spice that were brazenly displayed on the tables they were seated at. In addition to the smoke-stained booths, there were several raised platforms that held women who were twisting themselves around metallic poles, their bodies scantily clad as they danced sensually for the crowd of drunken onlookers.

And that was where you would find yourself shortly after being allowed into the club.

They had assumed you were one of the dancers.

A large, burly man grabbed you by the arm and you instinctively threw your elbow back into his gut at the sudden intrusion of your personal space, your arm connecting with a solid expanse of hard muscle. “C’mon, babydoll, don’t be so sensitive,” the man grumbled, hauling you towards the unoccupied pedestal. “Do your fucking job and don’t bitch about it.” He tossed you forward into the velvet-covered platform, and as you caught yourself on your hands, you understood that you had about three seconds to decide what you were going to do next.

Do you confront the man about the mistaken identity, and risk causing a scene? Risk losing the bounty, or possibly getting yourself hurt once they realize you’re not meant to be here?

Or do you get up there and find a way to make this unexpected plot change work for you?

Credit due to @knivesareout for the perfect moldboard and for her undying love for me and my fic.

Also tagging @soyelfuegoquearde for beta’ing my project and giving me all of the constructive criticism and positive feedback that has helped me grow as an author.

And my love @emmikmil / @bdavishiddlesbatch for her never-ending love and enthusiasm for Din and Reader.

I love you all so very much.

Chapter 16 - Read More

The things that you had heard in passing about Corellia were too kind in their assessment, and they had been harsh to start. There was a filmy scum that lingered in the air and clung to clothing, surfaces, even to the air in your lungs. The industrial planet was bleak and grim, and you were almost beginning to regret your offer to assist Din with this bounty; would it have really been so bad to hunker down here in the ship, sleep for a while, maybe even pick up a book in town to keep you entertained? However, you also knew that if you had to spend an undetermined amount of time cooped up in the ship, without Din, trying to manage the kid on your own, no view except that of a dirty industrial cityscape, being constantly terrified that Din could get hurt again — you would probably lose your mind. So you decided to step out into the grisly world of Corellia, Din at your side.

The towers of steel and metal that warped up towards the sky were certainly a departure from the organic beauty of Bardotta that you had grown accustomed to during the last job. You tried to find something appealing in the architecture, your eyes scanning the horizon, and came to the conclusion that there was certainly... dedication and precision in the construction, and that was something that you could appreciate. You needed to find something agreeable within it all.

The kid was sleeping in his cradle, the wampa having been tucked under his short green arm, left to rest in the ship during the course of what was predicted to be a short job. Din navigated the two of you through the dirty, narrow streets of the city and away from the shipyard. He didn’t seem to notice or mind the filth too much, as he stomped onwards through puddles, mud, trash, splashing it onto his clothing and armor — and being a bit more hygienically minded, you took the extra effort to keep yourself clean as you sidestepped what could reasonably be avoided. It was unnecessary self-preservation as the cleanliness of your boots probably didn’t matter much in the grand scheme of things, but it was just in your nature.

Din was leading you both to a well-concealed speakeasy, known for hosting an intriguing assortment of characters that preferred to avoid the prying eyes of the galaxy, and partake in... questionable activities. Din had made contact with an acquaintance who was able to provide you with instructions for how to enter into the underground club, including the password that was changed frequently specifically to avoid situations like yours. It was mean to be a safe haven for the rich and powerful; there would be drinking, music, smoking, gambling, bloodshed, prostitution, drugs, fighting, and that was on a quiet night. Gods only knew what else the oncoming evening could hold. You weren’t particularly worried, however, knowing that the towering bounty hunter that stalked along in front of you would keep you safe if worst came to worst. And you didn’t have any significant worries about this job, the nature of it being simple and familiar.

The setup of this job was similar to the one you had helped with back on Canto Bight; you’d flirt with the target, have a drink, bat your eyelashes, and draw him away from the crowd with a thinly veiled proposition. It wasn’t rocket science, luring a man; there were quite a lot of things in life that were harder, like navigating a ship or even firing a blaster. And yet Din seemed incredibly nervous and stressed on your behalf, holding enough worry for the two of you. While you had grown used to periods of silence from him, this one felt different. This one had an undercurrent of tension that rolled off of him in waves, so thick you could almost see it — or maybe that was just Corellia, and you were reading too much into this.

The sun was beginning to set along the horizon, reflecting beams of orange and crimson and gold throughout the city’s structure; you remembered how Din had shared with you that his favorite color was orange, and you wondered if he was finding some sort of beauty in this moment as well, or if he had even noticed. He hadn’t said anything to you for quite some time now, having navigated you from the outskirts of the city and its shipyard, to the bustling urban center that housed a variety of species and droids that were frankly quite rude. You had been bumped into on more than one occasion without so much as an ‘excuse me.’ You figured you had just grown used to the niceties that were afforded on a planet like Chandrila, and reminded yourself that you had chosen to leave that place in favor of travel — which would include a change in attitudes and social customs. You still made a point to apologize to those you collided with though.

Having seen the industriousness of the capitol city here on Corellia, you were increasingly intrigued by what this speakeasy experience would be like. Din had informed you that it was a popular spot for those working with Crimson Dawn, the Hutts, the Pyke Syndicate — violent, ruthless individuals. The target for this evening was a Twi’lek who had been working for the Hutts, who had ‘mysteriously’ disappeared with a large shipment of spice; it was suspected that he had run off with it for himself, feeling brave enough to try and hide. It was a stupid choice, even you knew that — while Orron had never tell you much about the spice dealings, you still knew that double crossing the Hutts was borderline suicidal. The sheer confidence and conceit of such a bold move was intriguing, that couldn’t be denied; but hiding from the Hutts was nearly impossible, and his bold stupidity would be catching up with him today.

You had worked to prepare yourself adequately for the evening, having brought along a pack of supplies that would transform you into an appealing bait prior to your arrival. You had correctly assumed that dressing for a party before trekking through the city would be a poor decision, and you applauded yourself for your foresight, seeing the grim state that your clothing was now in. The sun was descending lower into the skyline and you knew that you were getting close to the destination, based on the projected timeline for the job.

Picking up the pace so you were now walking in stride with Din, you tilted your head in the direction of a small shop that would likely afford you some space in a fresher to change and finish preparing. He nodded silently in agreement and you disappeared inside, finding a young boy with mousy blonde hair sleeping behind the counter. He was startled awake by your unexpected entrance, and you tossed him some credits to accompany your question about where you would locate a fresher. He pointed to the back of the store wordlessly and you thanked him before disappearing.

You closed the door behind you and locked it securely, before stripping out of the clothes that had accumulated a fair amount of muck in the past hour’s journey. You wriggled your way into a sparkling silver dress that just barely skimmed your thighs, admiring the shimmer of the sheer fabric as it clung to your body. The dress choice had been intentional, the versatility of it appealing; you knew it would sparkle like diamonds when caught by bright lights, and would set off a soft, illuminating glow in low light. Either way, eyes would be drawn to you. You slid on a pair of white boots that propelled yourself a good four inches higher into the air, and added a few pieces of jewelry to round out the look. You pulled your hair out of the buns you had tied it up in, as it now fell around your shoulders in casual waves, and you put on just enough makeup to highlight your features. Assessing that you looked enticing enough, you slid back into your dark grey coat that would hide your glamorous appearance from the city-dwellers until your arrival at the club.

As you stepped out of the shop to rejoin your companion, you readied yourself to say goodbye for the evening, trying to shift your perspective to the job at hand rather than the part of you that was incredibly sad to be parted from Din. Even knowing that the separation was only temporary, you would still be eagerly looking forward to being reunited. Staring up into the visor of the helmet, you stepped closer to him and placed your arms on his hips, wanting to pull him in closely but also understanding that it may not be an appropriate choice as you were out in public. He placed a gloved hand on your shoulder and another on the small of your back, the helmet coming to rest against your forehead.

“Do you have the blaster? And the knife?” He asked, his voice sounding constricted even with the modulator. You were getting better at deciphering that which the modulator tried to hide.

“I’ve got the knife, but the blaster doesn’t really go with this outfit,” you joked, reassuring him that you were protected. “This’ll be easy, I promise.” You whispered, trying to build up his confidence and sense of security. “Just like last time. We can get the job over with quickly, and then go home.”

You heard a soft sigh come through the modulator as he nodded. “I’ll see you soon.”

“I’ll see you soon, Din.”

***

Getting into the club had been ridiculously easy, especially once the guard at the door saw the way that you were dressed. For being so secretive of a club, you were shocked at the ease with which you were able to sneak in; you assumed that they just didn’t worry too much when a beautiful young woman turned up at their door. Din was going to take more of a… back-door route into the club, dispatching the guard who protected the service entrance, and he would find a discreet place to hide and watch out for you and the target. You had kept the knife, and the comm that was connected to his, and you would alert him when you had lured the Twi’lek away from the party and the crowd. Din would then join the two of you, disarm and cuff the target, and then you would go home to the Razor Crest. It was a simple plan, with a hefty payout for an evening of easy work.

... Or so you had thought.

And that was where you would find yourself shortly after being allowed into the club.

They had assumed you were one of the dancers.

Do you confront the man about the mistaken identity, and risk causing a scene? Risk losing the bounty, or possibly getting yourself hurt once they realize you’re not meant to be here?

Or do you get up there and find a way to make this unexpected plot change work for you?

You bit the inside of your lip to the point of bleeding as you quickly came to your decision. You brought yourself up onto the well-worn, blood red platform and into the blisteringly hot stage lights that were turned on you and the other dancers; taking a moment to pretend to bask in the cheers and lewd hollers that followed your entrance, you tried to get a feel for the rhythm of the music that you would now have to dance to.

Fuck, let’s hope they’re high enough to believe this.

Closing your eyes, you sank into the rhythm and melody of the music that the band was playing, and you began to move your body in time with it, trying to put on a show despite never having danced before a day in your life. This would be an awfully convenient time for some Force abilities to show up.

You had no such luck, but the drugged and drunk patrons didn’t seem to mind much; you were there for their amusement and pleasure, to fuel their egos and sense of power. You were also just one of several dancers; subtly turning, you observed the others so you could try and copy their fluid and sensual movements, the muscles in your thighs and core being worked in ways that you had not experienced before. You kept an eye out in the room for the target, and eventually you spotted him sitting about three booths away, a group of nasty looking mercenaries at his side.

Alright, let’s get this over with before my legs give out.

Batting your painted eyelashes at him, you winked at the Twi’lek and blew him a kiss before turning your focus back to the dance that you were trying to pull off.

The band changed songs, and the other dancers kept going, adjusting to the new tempo and you assumed that’s what was expected of you as well. You wondered when this would end, when you would have an opportunity to get this night over with — your legs were burning as you stretched, bent, spun, flexed in different and new ways, all while trying to maintain some semblance of decency — you didn’t want anyone but Din to look at you how these men were.

Keeping your focus on the target, you saw the Twi’lek man gesture to the burly man who had brought you up here; a quiet conversation took place during which he pointed directly at you, and then you witnessed the Twi’lek hand the man a stack of Imperial credits.

He was buying you.

It was a departure from the original plan, but then again everything about this night had been. The original plan had been left in the dust, and you just hoped that Din would be able to keep pace with the changes. Following the men’s transaction, you watched as the Twi’lek disappeared through a hallway into a private room, and the large man made his way to the platform you had been brought to. Coming to a halt in front of you, he grunted something entirely unintelligible over the sounds of the music and the crowd, but the meaning was not lost on you. Your services had been bought.

You climbed down from the platform, the glow of the hot stage light leaving you, and you sighed in relief; the man pointed in the general direction of where the Twi’lek had gone and you wordlessly took your cue to join him. Slinking your way through the tables, you ran your hand along the knife that had been carefully concealed, hidden underneath your dress and pressed against your ribs; you were suddenly very grateful for Din’s insistence that you carry it. You then retrieved the small comm from the bosom of your dress, having cleverly hidden it there; you pressed the button on the side once, twice, three times, alerting him that you were moving and the final phase of the plan was in action.

You arrived at the end of the hallway to find the door to the private room; it was one of many discreet doors, but this was the only one that was cracked just slightly to indicate to you where to go. Feeling your heart start to race, you hoped that Din would be close behind you, as the thought of being alone with this man for an extended period of time was admittedly quite terrifying; the thought that he had bought your... services, and would be expecting you to engage accordingly, made your skin crawl. The nervousness that you hadn’t felt previously was starting to catch up with you, and you had a bit more understanding of why Din had been as concerned as he was.

You could feel an acidic, stabbing pain of nervousness in your gut as your feet carried you closer and closer to the dark walnut door. Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, pushing that nervousness and fear away, you knocked softly on the door to indicate your arrival. You stepped into what was a surprisingly clean and relatively quiet room; it was free from the colorful and flashing lights of the rest of the club, instead being dimly lit with candles that illuminated comfortable-looking furniture, and a table with a bottle of sparkling wine.

You turned your gaze to the Twi’lek in front of you; he wasn’t unattractive, but the fact that he had the audacity to try and purchase sex from a woman — no, he wasn’t even purchasing sex from a woman, it was from a fucking pimp — was nauseating, and the smugness that rolled off of him threatened to make your nose turn up in disgust. Forcing aside your personal assessments, you smiled at him and took a seat next to him before pouring you each a glass of wine. You knew you needed to focus on playing your role and getting the job over with.

Taking a sip of the wine you had poured, the carbonation tickled your nose and you giggled instinctively, not accustomed to the sensation. The man took it as an indication of interest, however, and his hand moved to your upper thigh, pushing the hem of your dress to the side. He downed the rest of his drink quickly before turning to place his other hand on your shoulder — and then his body was moving closer and closer towards yours, and your heart pounded, your head screamed at you to get the fuck out of here, where is Din, fuck, should I kill this guy?

Right at the moment that you had moved to make a grab for your knife, the heavy wooden door you had walked through opened quietly and you breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of the beskar that glowed in the lamplight. The Twi’lek kept his hands where they were on your body, but turned from you to speak to the intruder, growling, “Hey buddy, get the fuck outta here, can’t you see we’re busy?”

You winced and concealed a laugh, knowing that while this man may not die tonight, he would not be feeling too great once Din was done with him. The door closed and the three of you were concealed from the party, contained in the privacy of the room together. Before the man had time to touch you any further, Din reached out to grab the Twi’lek and roughly hauled him off of you, only slightly throwing his body into the glass table that shattered on impact.

You didn’t need to see Din’s face to know that he was absolutely livid. Having been removed from the unwanted grasp of the Twi’lek, knowing that you and Din were both safe, there was a part of you that got a sort of thrill from the protectiveness that Din displayed for you. It was also shockingly and undeniably attractive watching him rough the guy up, and your biological, hormonal response to the sight caught you a bit off guard.

The Twi’lek was unconscious, but thankfully not dead; after having been thrown through a glass table by your protector, he was... quite easy to disarm and handcuff. After Din had thoroughly secured the situation at hand, he stomped over to you angrily, the force of his steps echoing around you, and you could feel the rage and possessiveness that was positively boiling underneath the armor. “Are you alright?” He asked brusquely, pulling your scantily clad body into his heavily covered one.

“Yes, Din, I’m fine — things didn’t go exactly to plan, but I’m—“

He cut you off as he brought his hand down to cover your eyes— surprised, you started to recoil on instinct, until you heard the click of his helmet being removed; and then his lips were on yours, kissing you greedily and intensely in a way that you had never experienced before. Instinctively, your hands reached out to pull him closer into you and you were hit by an absolute tidal wave of need for him. You bit down on his lip, an animalistic drive taking over your body, and he growled underneath you. “Fuck,” he grunted, pulling away from you but keeping his hand securely over your eyes. “Fuck, fuck, not here — get you home —“

You weren’t sure if he was talking to you or not, but you whined as your body screamed out for more contact, more attention than what you were receiving. You heard the helmet click back into place and your chest deflated, knowing that you would not be getting what you needed; at least not yet. His hand moved away from your eyes and you saw Din standing in front of you, breathing heavily and roughly. You clearly weren’t alone in your own desires, but Din at least had the foresight to know that this was not the time or place.

He wordlessly turned to grab the unconscious man and haul him out, being rougher than you had expected as the man’s head knocked into the door frame with a thud. You followed along behind him, trusting him to know what he was doing despite the adrenaline and the hormones that were rushing over you both like Naboo’s waterfalls. He navigated you carefully out of the speakeasy, until the two —no, three— of you were back into the cool, muggy evening air of Corellia. You saw a guard had been dispatched by Din at the back door, and a M-68 Landspeeder that was presumably stolen was waiting for you. Din lifted the unconscious body into the back seat and allowed it to slump over before he was then reaching out to grab you, his hands planted tightly on your waist as he lifted you up, as though your weight was nothing for him, and set you down into the passenger seat of the speeder before climbing in next to you.

The journey back to the ship was blessedly short compared to the initial journey into the city, thanks to Din’s questionable acquisition of a vehicle, but it was just as silent as the day’s earlier journey had been. You weren’t sure of what was going on in Din’s head, but you knew that you were aching to get back to the security of the ship and to be able to be alone with him. You felt excitement blooming within you as the Razor Crest came into your line of sight, but Din remained maddeningly silent.

He got the limp body securely sealed into carbonite with impressive speed, before picking your tense and wanting body up and out of the vehicle. Much to your surprise, he didn’t set you down on the ground, but rather carried you up the ramp and into the ship you both knew as home.

You could feel the adrenaline and desire pumping through your body as you felt Din’s strong arms wrapped around you, carrying you gently but with a force and determination that was a bit nerve-wracking. You were fairly certain that you could hear his heart hammering against the beskar chest plate that you were pressed against, and his gloved hands just barely dug into your skin, making your heart race in anticipation for what was undoubtedly about to come next.

The lights in the cabin of the ship had already been turned off, and your sense of anticipation heightened with the deprivation. Din takes his helmet off in the dark. He placed you down unexpectedly, your feet fighting to keep you upright, and that coupled with the darkness was momentarily disorienting. He stepped closer into you, his frame eclipsing yours as you were backed into the wall of the cabin and you could feel the steel paneling against the skin that your silver dress had left exposed. The cold steel coupled with the desire that was burning through you, radiating from your core, gave you an intense sensory overload that left your chest rising and falling rapidly as your breaths became more shallow, a soft whine arising from you.

Your hands reached out, grasping for any bit of Din that they could reach, and you somewhat forcefully dragged him into you, using his body to pin yourself against the wall of the ship. You heard a grunt come through the modulator and the fire inside you crawled up your chest as you told him in no uncertain terms to “Take that off, right fucking now.”

You heard the helmet drop to the floor not a second later, with no regard for its integrity — but honestly, it was beskar, you’d be more worried about the integrity of the floor than the helmet — and the impulsiveness of the gesture only fueled the scorching fire that was running through your veins, setting every nerve ending alight. Finally having been freed from the restrictiveness of the helmet, Din growled your name under his breath as he leaned in to kiss you, echoing the fierce desperation with which he had kissed you in the speakeasy. His arms wrapped around you in a vice as his hands grabbed your ass, and he licked into your mouth, the heat and the taste of his tongue making you moan underneath him reflexively. You kissed him deeper, needing to be as close to him as possible — the cool beskar pressing into you made him feel even more domineering, powerful, but you resented its presence and the way it barricaded you from Din’s body.

“Never doing that again — not going on another job with me —“ Din grunted, his words partially lost in the heavy, bruising kisses he was trailing up your neck. “Saw you— saw you dancing, saw that motherfucker pay — should’ve killed him —“

God, the possessiveness and the protectiveness was fucking hot. There was something within you that reveled in his intense desire to protect you and keep you to himself. Memories of the fresher came back to you, how he had called you his good girl, and the prospect of hearing those words spoken into your soft skin again made you achingly wet for him. You sighed into him, your body melting underneath his touch as he kissed and harshly bit at the soft skin of your neck, loving the way his teeth felt scraping and sinking into you. It felt as though there was a storming, angry ocean of desire and desperation crashing into you ceaselessly, so overwhelming that you worried you might drown in it before Din would be able to give you what you needed.

You tangled your hands into the hair that you noticed was growing even longer, the curls feeling so real and so human, despite the forced disconnect of armor and anonymity. “Din,” you sighed, tugging his curling hair gently, trying to pull him out of the smoldering anger he was experiencing, and back into this moment with you. You didn’t want to hear any more about the job, the club, any of it — you wanted to hear Din tell you that you look so pretty taking his cock, you’re his good girl, your pussy feels better than anything in this galaxy.

“My girl,” he whispered roughly, digging his fingers into your exposed skin, the warm baritone of his unfiltered voice setting off butterflies — and for a moment you wondered if he could actually read your mind.

You nodded in agreement —you’re his girl, always — whimpering as one of his hands moved from your backside to roughly cup your breast; you felt the aged leather of the glove against your skin and realized he was all too clothed in comparison to your exposed form. Your dress had shifted to bunch around your waist as Din had pressed you into the wall, progressively revealing more and more of you to him. You reached out to grab his gloved hand, bringing it up from your chest and to your flushed face. He paused for a moment, waiting to see what you were doing; and then you brought his hand up to your soft mouth, gently biting down on his thumb and pulling the glove off with your teeth. The taste of gunpowder and leather lingered on your tongue, and there was some small piece of you that got a thrill from it.

It had been an experimental move, one that you weren’t sure how he would respond to, but the groan that echoed through him shot your adrenaline and confidence sky high, knowing that you made that happen, knowing that you were giving him what he wanted. And although he had you pinned against the wall, you still tried valiantly to remove some of the layers that separated you — you needed to feel his skin against yours, needed to be able to kiss him all over, wanted to taste him, wanted to feel him in new ways.

He took your cue and backed up slightly, allowing your chest the room to expand with much-needed deep breaths as he rushed to pry the armor and equipment off of himself, each thud and clang of beskar on the floor sending stronger and stronger waves of heat through your body; you wondered if this is what it was like to catch fire under the unforgiving suns of Tattooine.

You heard something soft and distinctly not-beskar land next to the two of you, and assumed that he was finally beginning to work his way out of his underclothes. You hooked your fingers into the waistband of his pants and yanked him back towards you forcefully, needing to feel the heat of his body pressed against yours. You could feel the defined muscles of his abdomen, the assorted scars that scattered his frame, the broad shoulders and thickly muscled arms; you kissed down his neck and to his chest, biting down harshly and then soothing the area with your tongue, loving the way that he writhed and moaned against you as he held you against himself.

Your hand moved down from the wide expanse of his shoulders to palm at the rock hard erection that was unfortunately still barricaded by Din’s pants; and as you curled your fingers around his cock, Din growled and gathered the sheer fabric of your dress in his hands, pulling it down rapidly and aggressively, leaving you to try and extricate your arms from the delicate straps before he ripped it entirely off of your body. Eventually shimmying yourself free of the dress that had blessedly remained intact, you felt the pile of tulle and sequins fall to your feet. You kicked the garment away from you, a subtle hint to make Din distinctly aware of how exposed you now were. You pulled at the rough utility fabric that concealed the lower half of his body, that concealed his throbbing erection that you so desperately needed to feel within you — and Din stepped out of the clothing, the two of you breathing heavily at the amount of skin to skin contact you now shared; you wondered if he had ever been this bare, this exposed, with anyone before.

Although it was dark within the cabin of the ship, you knew each other’s bodies well, having spent several nights sleeping together, and your previous interactions during the shower having brought you closer than ever before. Your breath hitched in your throat as you had a sudden feeling of nervousness; you couldn’t understand why you were suddenly anxious, as this was something you had wanted for so long — but apparently you weren’t the only one with some nerves. Din’s breath shook as he pulled your body into his, whispering your name. “I don’t know that the bunk will be, ah... comfortable, or, you know, enough... space.”

That was a fair consideration, remembering how close you slept next to him; it wouldn’t offer enough space for anything other than sleeping.

An idea occurred to you; you leaned forward and kissed his shoulder, before you pulled away from his grasp, the chill of the cabin catching up with you as you crossed to retrieve the well-loved blankets from the bunk as you placed them onto the floor, creating a makeshift bed for the two of you. “Problem solved,” you whispered, grabbing his hand and guiding him onto the softened surface with suddenly confident steps.

He laughed gently, and you could feel a smile working its way to his face as you kissed him. He swung you up into his arms with ease, and you wrapped your legs around his waist as he carefully brought both of your exposed and nude bodies down to the floor. You were acutely aware of how his muscles flexed and contracted as he held you closely, his sculpted and scarred body feeling incredible as it laid on the floor next to yours. Now, being able to effectively move and maneuver yourself around him, you were emboldened to try something you had never done before, feeling confident as your adventurous ideas had been well-received so far.

Your soft and gentle hands pressed Din’s wide shoulders down into the unyielding floor and he complied, willing to let you have the control right now. You positioned yourself over his body so that your head was pointing in the direction of his feet, while you propped yourself up above his impressive, large frame on your palms, the arch of your back offering him a perfect view of how wet you were for him, damn near dripping onto his chest. He groaned explicitly as you bent forward to take his cock into your mouth, and you could feel the tension moving through his body as you took him deeper into your throat, your tongue swirling around him and tasting every exquisite, velvety inch of him.

You were relieved when Din’s broad and calloused hands came up to rest firmly on your ass, understanding what you were needing from him, and he pulled your aching center down to his stubbled jawline, to allow his tongue to trace gently over your clit, finally offering you the pleasure and stimulation that you had been needing since Din had kissed you feverishly in the club. You felt your eyes roll back with a wash of pleasure and relief as he sucked gently on the bundle of nerves, flicking his tongue across it in rhythmic circles, occasionally allowing his tongue to explore further into your body and enjoy all of the wetness you offered him — and you hummed in satisfaction against his thick cock, as you moved your mouth up and down his length, enjoying the wet sounds sounds it produced as you continually swallowed around him, loving the deep grunts and animalistic groans you received in response. The humming must’ve added some enjoyable stimulation for him, as you tasted his precum on your tongue; and then he slid two fingers into your tight cunt, working to open you up to be able to take the considerable length of his cock. You loved the deliciously wet and sloppy sounds that came from the two of you; your mouth, as you continuously drug your tongue along the underside of the cock that was hitting the back of your throat, and your pussy as Din finger-fucked you on the floor of the ship.

He added a third finger to your tight entrance and you instinctively cried out at the stretching sensation, your body writhing as his thumb moved to tweak continuously over your clit with varying levels of pressure.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Din sighed with a laugh. “If you think three fingers is a lot, you’re in for a surprise.” His voice sounded like gravel, rough and breathy and cracking beneath you, sending you higher and higher with his cocky assessment. Well, you were never one to shy away from a challenge.

You could feel the weight of your orgasm building within you, the heady and hot tension that had coiled at your center spreading its way out to your stomach, your thighs, threatening to break at any moment. Your muscles constricting, you chased that peak, that high, and your mouth slid off of Din’s cock as you gasped for air — “Din, fuck, Din, I’m gonna cu—“

And then he quickly pulled himself away from you, right as you were right there, and you cried out in exasperation and frustration at having been denied your orgasm; your entire body was screaming with anger and deprivation, and you felt as though you might shatter with all of the tension.

His body moved away from underneath you as you came to rest against the makeshift bed of blankets, and in the dark, you had absolutely no idea what was going on or why he had done this to you. “Din, what the fuck?” You hissed angrily, your hands reaching out to try and grab him and bring him back to you. But then you suddenly felt two strong, familiar hands grasp your waist from behind, and you were abruptly yanked upwards by your waist and onto your knees, the blankets ruched up underneath you; the disorientation of the darkness was intimidating but also incredibly exciting — although you were still somewhat pissed at Din for his asshole move.

You were on all fours, desperately waiting for Din to do something, anything.

“Look at my pretty girl, waiting so nicely for me.”

You felt Din’s muscled thighs and his thick cock press up against your exposed backside; you were able to determine that he was on his knees behind you. You whined in anticipation, not minding the hint of desperation that crept in with it.

“Gods, look at you. Fucking dripping wet, making a mess for me. Is that all for me, sweet girl?” He hmmed confidently, dipping his finger inside of you and bringing your wetness up to his mouth for a taste. “Bet you’re just dying to take this cock, to cum on it for me, aren’t you?”

You whined once more, a small, needy sound that would’ve been embarrassing had you not been so desperately wanting to cum after your earlier denial; your muscles still quaked and tensed as you hovered right on that edge. You pressed your ass further back into him, trying to get some sort of stimulation against your aching cunt, but Din just cupped your ass and pressed your shoulders down into the floor; you felt the wool blanket against your cheek as you writhed against him in frustration.

“Please,” you whispered.

“Please... what?” There was a somewhat maniacal edge to his voice and you felt a thrill of anticipation shudder through you.

“Din, please!”

“Please what?” His voice cut through you like steel.

You could feel the blunt and swollen head of his cock pressed against your throbbing entrance, and fuck, while you didn’t want to beg you couldn’t help it any longer, the unyielding desperation coursing hotly through you as you just gave in to what Din wanted. “Fuck, Din — please, please fuck me, please let me cum for you —“

A satisfied chuckle coming from deep within his chest, Din finally pressed forward into you with a ragged, shaking moan — and the resulting moan that came from your body echoed his own, as he buried himself impossibly deep into your tight and soaking cunt, while effectively pinning your shoulders to the floor and rendering you immobile. You had thought you would be prepared for the sheer size of him, the girth, the length that you had taken in your mouth and throat, but it was unlike anything you had ever experienced before — he really had been right in saying that three fingers wouldn’t compare.

For a brief moment you wondered if you would even be able to take all of him inside you — and your question was quickly answered as he pulled back from you, dragging his cock along your inner walls, before his hips snapped forward to slam into you with a shocking and devastatingly incredible force. Feeling his cock sink deeper and deeper into you, your body offered little resistance to this pleasure as you cried out at the stretching and filling sensation, hurting but in a good way that just made you crave him even more.

Din’s hands found their place along the bend of your hips as he pushed and pulled your willing body into his; and with each thrust forward penetrating you even deeper, you felt the edges of your mind starting to go white-hot with pleasure once more. You reveled in the sounds he made, needy and wanting, loving that he wasn’t one to shy away from letting you know just how fucking incredible this felt for him, too.

This was unlike anything you had ever experienced with a man before, Din was unlike anything else in this galaxy, and you knew that even if you spent a hundred years with him you would never get enough of this feeling — the feeling of his throbbing, veined cock dragging against your sensitive walls, hitting spots inside of you that you never even knew existed. You could feel the ever-increasing slickness of your cunt that allowed for him to slide in and out of you repeatedly, while the lower half of your body started to constrict with that same heat of pleasure that he had ripped away from you just moments ago — but that didn’t matter anymore, you had no room for grudges as he completely filled both your body and mind.

He said your name over and over, the sound spilling from his lips like a prayer, like a curse, like a promise — and you reveled in the sheer adoration of each utterance that tumbled from him. You wished that you could give him the same verbal adoration and praise that he offered you, but you were completely incapable of doing anything except making lewd, high-pitched, unintelligible sounds that echoed and radiated through the walls of the ship, becoming more desperate with each powerful thrust into your clenching and tight cunt.

“Gods, I knew you’d take my cock so f-fucking good, look at that — such a pretty girl, such a g-good girl — fucking knew you’d feel incredible from the m-moment I saw you, wanted to fucking split you in half on my cock —“

The praise and dirty words Din offered you tickled a previously-repressed, unexplored part of yourself and after this awakening you wanted more of it. Seeking out that praise and reinforcement, you decided to take back some control in this situation and initiate something more — Din had you fairly well pinned against the floor, his hips ramming his cock into you relentlessly, but you were able to shift your arms in a way that allowed for you to reach around the back of your thighs and spread yourself open even further for him. Your movement caught him off guard as his hips snapped into yours forcefully, his cock penetrating so far into you that you thought you may never recover from it — and the force of his thrust collapsed both of your bodies into the floor as a guttural fuck escaped from him.

You felt his broad chest and the heaviness of his frame crushing you into the floor, but you didn’t mind, loving the pressure of his full body weight against you while his cock was buried inside you so deeply that you could feel him twitching inside of you, could feel each beat of his heart pulsating through his body.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck” he gasped, pushing himself up off of your body and off of the floor. “I don’t know what the fuck you just did, but I’m going to need you to do that again for me.”

You grinned, somewhat delirious from all of the stimulation and physical sensations you had experienced here on this makeshift bed. And yet for all of the wonderful, amazing, beautiful things you had felt — you still hadn’t cum, and your very skin felt as though it was crawling with a fire that left you aching with every second that passed by. You wanted to cum, wanted Din to make you cum; and you wanted to make him cum in return, giving each other the release and bliss you had been wanting since your first meeting on Chandrila. If you were to tell the truth, you’d tell Din that you had wanted him from the very first day, even though you had fought so hard to quell those feelings.

You couldn’t see well in the darkness that shrouded the cabin — couldn’t see anything, to be honest — but you could feel your hands connect with Din’s shoulders and you shoved him back down onto the floor, appreciating his willingness to follow your lead. Your hands traced gently down his body, feeling every hard line and ridge of him, feeling every scar, and loving every inch of him that he had allowed you to see, at least in this way. You swung your legs over his waist and positioned yourself above him, guiding his thick and still-wet cock back inside of your tight and enveloping cunt; the two of you gasped at the sudden, clenching contact and rush of adrenaline, and you began to ride him in earnest, loving the sound of your skin slapping against his as you crashed into him over and over and over again.

“Gods, you just love it when I ride your thick cock like this, don’t you, Din?” You said with a malicious grin, hoping to draw out the same kind of dirty words he had given you earlier. “Just falling apart for me so easy—“

“Fuck, yes, I do love it my sweet —“ He choked out, his hands finding their way up your body and coming to rest at your breasts, tweaking your hardened nipples with his rough touch. “Love watching that tight pussy take my cock, love how you feel on me, love how you taste — you’re just so fucking incredible—”

“Show me how much you love it,” you challenged, an edge creeping into your voice. “Cum for me.”

His groans turned into irregular grunts of pleasure as he moved to hold your body in place, restricting your movements as he fucked up into you, sounds spilling forth from him. “Believe me, I will cum for you — I’ll cum inside that sweet, perfect pussy. But you’re gonna cum for me first, sweet girl.”

Din’s threat— or promise, depending on your perspective — echoed through you and a crashing tidal wave of need threatened to collapse your chest and inhibit your very breathing. Your body was positively aching with tension and strain now, your muscles screaming out in exhaustion — you needed to cum, you needed the release, you needed to fall over that peak and then rest next to Din. “Yes, please, please, please,” you cried, each word becoming more and more deranged and desperate than the last.

“Tell me what you need, sweet girl,” Din panted roughly, continuing to hold your shaking body in place as he fucked into you relentlessly.

You weren’t sure what you needed except more of Din, and you didn’t even know how to ask for that as he was clearly giving you everything he had, thrusting up into you and offering up each and every groan of pleasure that your pussy wrung from him. More. You just needed more.

“Kiss me, Din Djarin.”

He laughed softly and you could hear the smile in it; for all of the dirty words and debased, debauched actions, this sweetness was what you wanted and what you needed. He pulled your body in close to his, planting a soft kiss on your cheek before rolling the two of you over so you were now laying against the blankets. His cock never left your center, even in the transition; and then his hands brought your legs up to rest on his shoulders and he began drilling into you with an unholy force, crumpling your body in half with each thrust as he bent downwards to kiss you. He was panting and you could feel a bead of sweat drip from his forehead as he worked to get you there, fighting off his own orgasm, needing to get you there first.

As his lips pressed repeatedly into your soft and hot flesh, you could feel it coming on; that tense and aching heat coiled within you, your back arched up from the floor, and your hands rose up to pull Din in closer to you, gripping his hair forcefully. You couldn’t see anything in the blackness of the ship but your vision was changing regardless, as your body readied itself to jump from that cliff, giving you the release you needed. “Din—“ you gasped out, your muscles constricting.

“Yes, yes, cum for me sweet girl — wanna feel you cum on my cock,” Din grunted, thrusting into you with each word. He leaned in to kiss you once more and it was everything you needed.

It felt as though a seismic charge went off inside the small ship, your muscles contracting and quaking as your body was taken over by wave after wave of undulating pleasure. Your skin felt like it was vibrating at a new frequency, each nerve ending heightened and feeling overstimulated as you cried out in unintelligible but unmistakeable pleasure. Your cunt clenched around Din’s cock, spasming with each new wave of pleasure that overtook your body.

Din snarled at the feeling of you clenching and coming undone around him and you knew that he was close; you drug your nails against his scalp, his hair tangling between your fingers, and you leaned up to gently capture his earlobe between your teeth, tugging slightly. “Want you to cum for me, Din. Want you to cum inside me.”

The rapid movements of his hips became increasingly irregular until you felt the heat of his release within you, his body collapsing on top of yours as he inhaled deep and ragged breaths, you could feel him shaking on top of you, could feel his muscles and his cock twitching as he was lost to the overwhelming pleasure of his orgasm. Hot ropes of Din’s cum coursed through your pulsing and throbbing cunt, coating you and filling you in a way that made you writhe in pleasure and self-satisfaction; you couldn’t help but think of the way you’d be left dripping from him, a mix of both of your orgasms coating you in a messy, magnificent bliss. When he finally pulled away from your feverish and trembling body, you felt the mix of fluids cascading down your thighs in a way that almost made you want to climb on top of him again.

You were both left entirely breathless, every ounce of energy spent in giving the other what they needed and had been denied for so long. Din’s body rolled off of yours, allowing you to breathe deeply and you inhaled lungfuls of cool air, quieting the fire that coursed through your body. His chest taking deep and ragged breaths, he pulled you in close to his chest, his arms wrapping around you securely as he sighed and kissed every inch of exposed skin that he could reach. You were utterly wrecked, entirely devastated, and more blissfully happy than you ever could have imagined you could be.

This life was turning into everything that you had ever wanted, and feared you would never get. You felt tears of happiness pricking at the corner of your eyes, and you smiled into Din’s chest, never wanting to leave this moment.

He must’ve felt the tears that had slipped out and onto him; bringing your face up to his, his hand cradling your cheek gently, he kissed your forehead. “Sweet girl, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you whispered, a brilliant grin spreading across your face. “Everything is perfect. You’re perfect. This life here, with you, is perfect.”

You would later blame it on the rush of dopamine and oxytocin, but truth be told, you could no longer deny the truth to either yourself or to Din. Feeling emboldened and safe in this space with him, the truth tumbled forward from your lips, unable to be concealed any longer.

“I love you, Din Djarin.”

It felt beautiful and exhilarating to speak it out loud, to acknowledge the truth of your feelings. You didn’t even necessarily need for Din to say it back; that’s how secure you felt in this moment, in this feeling of love. You would love him endlessly, would love him through hell or high waters, would love him whether you were right next to him or lightyears away. You couldn’t hold back the truth, and nor did you want to. You loved Din Djarin, more than you had ever loved anything in existence, and while it was exhilaratingly terrifying, it also felt like the safest, most comforting thing in this galaxy.

And it was a whole new kind of bliss that was revealed to you when he spoke to you in response.

“And I love you.”

#Din Djarin #Pedro Pascal #Din Djarin fic #Din Djarin x Reader #the Mandalorian #Mandalorian fanfic #Din Djarin fanfiction #the space between

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kyoonqs · 3 years

Text

iluso amor ; third part.

↬ summary: Cora has always considered herself elusive, easy to bore and adventurous to the last fiber of her body. One day for no apparent reason, she appears in front of the manager of a globetrotting circus passing through the city where she is temporarily staying to fill her life with magic. Baekhyun, as serious as he is handsome, has no intention of playing a role other than on the main canvas of the circus. He decides to separate Cora from her life of fantasies created by her travels and sets out to show her reality as raw and cruel as he knows it. Or so he believes.

Will time run out too quickly before love and passion devour him and he decides to risk everything for a love that lasts… Forever?

↬ pairing: baekhyun x cora fem!reader.

↬ circus!au ; illusionist!baek x hitchhiker!oc ; strangers to lovers au!

↬ genre: fluff ; romance ; angst ; drama.

↬ length: 9.2 k words.

↬ tag list: @changshapatrol @spacebyuns @fluffyhunnie @soos-goddess @hoho-cham @shadoukiti @sunbyun21 @mangobaek @suhotly @pororodks @bbhbae @blahblahblah-boo @leewalberg @byunsbobobu @endzii23 @taeilpathic

If you’d like to be tagged for future chapters, please let me know!

↬ masterlist.

When Cora left the trailer in that afternoon, she bumped into a young woman with shiny golden skin, dark hair, and a very pretty, contagious rectangular smile. She recognized her as Talia, she was a member of the group that performed acrobatic skills using various elements from ribbons to hoops and balls. From the moment she saw her, Cora could read how transparent she was and dared to say that she was surely the sweetest young woman in the whole circus.

The girl introduced herself and without losing her smile she brushed her hair behind her shoulders. Cora returned the greeting with a cordial smile of her own, as she caught sight of another woman approaching. The woman, dressed in black baggy pants and an oversized shirt came up and introduced herself as Ramona. Cora instantly recognized her as one of the women who had entered the arena on the back of one of the horses. Her casual clothes made Cora feel overdressed. She'd wanted to look good on her first day at the box office; for this she had put on an ivory silk blouse with black leggings instead of the jeans and the outlet shirt that Baekhyun had insisted on buying her in a shop window they had passed before settling in Fraga.

“Cora is Baekhyun's girlfriend, she joined us in Monzón.” Said Talia, who seemed increasingly happy with the news.

“I already heard the news. How lucky you are. Man doesn’t have a single particle of waste in his body.” Ramona replied.

Cora opened her mouth to tell them that she was just showing up for work, that she was definitely not his girlfriend but she snapped it shut when Ramona interrupted her with: “Algeria is going to have a fit when she gets back.”

“Actually... I applied for this job because of the vacancy, I didn't know Baekhyun before and I don't think he's interested in me either.” Cora felt embarrassed. She didn't want these girls to get a bad impression of either her or Baekhyun in the first conversation.

“Vacancy? The positions were filled by the time flyers were posted and besides we only needed male performers. Are you sure he has no interest in you?” Talia looked in bewilderment to Ramona, who only shrugged her shoulders with an apology that she had to leave.

Cora was going to investigate a little more, considering the girl's words had given her a lot to think about but she was in a hurry to get to the box office in time.

“I guess I’d better go. It was nice meeting you.” She waved goodbye and headed toward the locker trailer, mentally correcting herself that the place was to be called “The Red Wagon” shortly before. Baekhyun had told her the circus lockers were always called that, no matter the color.

Despite its name, the locker was pale in color. Dotted with a handful of colored stars, it showcased a hanging blackboard with prices according to age and number of family members.

In contrast to the cheerful exterior, the interior was dull and cluttered. A battered steel desk sat in front of a small sofa piled high with stacks of newspapers. There were mismatched chairs, an old filing cabinet, and a radio. Baekhyun was sitting behind the desk, with a calculator in one hand and a clipboard in the other. A single glance at his stormy face told Cora that Baekhyun hadn't had a good day so far.

Baekhyun stood up and gestured for her to follow him, leading her to the window at the side of the trailer to explain the procedure in a soft voice. It was very simple and Cora learned it immediately.

“I'll check every penny and make sure you don't lose sight of the fundraiser for a minute. The circus is on the brink of ruin, we cannot afford to lose money.”

“Of course I won't. I’m not stupid.” She held her breath, feeling that he would deny it, but Baekhyun concentrated on unlocking the hinge on the window. He accompanied her while she dispatched the first clients to make sure she was doing it right, and when he saw that she had no problems, he announced he was leaving.

“Are you going to the caravan?” she asked.

“I'll go when I have to get dressed. Why?”

“I left it somewhat scrambled.” She had to get back to the trailer before he saw the mess. When she started cleaning, she should have saved the cabinets for last, but wanting to scrub thoroughly, she had emptied the shelves to clean them first. The cabinets were clean now, but she hadn't had the time to put everything back and as a result, there wasn't a single surface in the trailer that wasn't occupied by something: clothing, tools, or an alarming pile of whips.

“I swear I’ll pick up everything as soon as I finish here, don’t worry if things are out of place.” Cora said hastily.

Baekhyun simply nodded, leaving her alone.

The next few hours passed without incident. Cora liked chatting with people looking to buy tickets and many of the circus employees made excuses to stop by and satisfy their curiosity about her –she guessed they were curious after the information Talia had given her, that they had all assumed she was there for other reasons, very dissociated from work–.

She recognized some of the men tending the stalls: clowns and several members of a group that performed equestrian numbers. She couldn’t shake the feeling that some of the girls were hiding their jealousy over the rumor floating around that she had managed to “catch” Byun Baekhyun. She appreciated the covert gesture. It gave her a glimmer of hope. Maybe things would work out after all.

Only after the second performance had begun was Cora able to leave the box office to watch Baekhyun perform. She hoped that watching the show again would dilute the shock she'd experienced the night before but she found his performance even more impressive. Where had he learned to do these things?

It wasn’t until the performance ended that Cora recalled the re-ordering she had yet to take care of back at the caravan. She rushed back to the living accommodations and was preparing to open the door when Talia called out to her.

“Come on Cora, I want to show you something.” She closed the trailer door quickly, before Talia could see the mess inside. The young woman took her arm and led her through the line of caravans. To the left she could see the emcee talking to Baekhyun as the workers stacked bleachers.

They rounded the last caravan, and Cora gasped in surprise to see many of the performers, still in performance clothing, around a folding table with a rectangular cake on top. Laia, the girl she had met before, was near the cake, along with Ramona, Fionn –if she remembered her name correctly– and her group of aerialists, various clowns and many other employees she had encountered.

Grinning widely, the emcee pushed Baekhyun forward and Talia raised her hands like a conductor. “Attention everyone, let’s all welcome Cora!” She was speechless. These people hardly knew her but here they were, extending a friendly hand to her. After spending months away from her family –not to complain of the wonderful travels– she took pleasure in the intimacy of this moment. At this impromptu gathering of future friends, she felt as if her family were welcoming her at the airport, with bright smiles and cheeks numb with happiness. Cora weighed the tears that were beginning to form in her eyes.

“Thank you. The cake looks delicious. I bet everyone wants a slice.” Cora glanced at Baekhyun, who had a lopsided smile on his face, surely trying to hide it. Even if they had only spent the last 24 hours together, she was beginning to grow familiar with his expressions.

Cheeks burning –somewhat embarrassed– Cora walked up to the folding table, grabbed a knife, and began to slice the cake into neat squares. Someone ordered one of the men to turn the radio dial to a happy station. After all, what was a celebration without dance?

When Cora had distributed the last of her cake, she watched as a tall boy with dark hair and round, shiny eyes like coins approached Talia. He looked hesitant but still held out his hand and she took it kindly. Guiding her to the center of an improvised dance floor, he then took her by the hips. Both of them mirrored a smile that could only have one explanation and Cora imagined how nice it would be nice to have company like that. In that moment, she thought of how Baekhyun had stroked her cheek the night before and turned to look for him, feeling disappointed when she found no sign of him.

For the next several hours, while the circus was being dismantled for the next town, Cora set about putting everything back into the cabinets. She was filled with a sense of despair that left her hardly able to stand upright but she kept working nonetheless.

The leggings she was wearing were completely dirty and the blouse was sticking to her skin but she didn't care. The little impromptu party and cake had been a small blessing to her but the fact that Baekhyun left the place sooner than she would have thought possible gave her the impression that all the hope she was gathering would only bring her a headache in the future. And she hoped it was just like that.

When Baekhyun entered the caravan shortly after midnight it still looked as messy as when Cora had first arrived. In the morning he’d found out that the circus was supposed to pay more taxes than expected. Afterwards he’d found out his boss would be back soon and with it the idea of receiving more tasks than he already had didn’t sit well and finally... he hadn't been able to get Cora out of his head. And it frightened him to such an extent that he had transformed the unfamiliar feeling into anger.

Although Cora had cleaned and organized the cupboards, she hadn't had the time or energy to do anything else. He rested his hands on his hips and examined the dirty furniture, the dusty tabletop, and the remnants of the cake the artists had insisted she take.

“I thought you were going to clean this up but I see that it’s still just as dirty.”

“The closets are clean. And I washed everything in the sink.” She said through clenched teeth, indifferently.

“Who cares about closets? Don't you know how to do anything right? You don't know anything about real life, do you, Cora? You're here for work, not to get thrown from one place to another for free. From now on, try to think of others, not just yourself.”

Cora's eyes stung as she tried not to cry. Without thinking, she picked up the cake with one hand and tossed it at him. He spread his hands automatically to stop her from throwing it at him, but it wasn't fast enough. The cake hit him on the shoulder and fell apart into a thousand pieces. She watched as the mess, bits of cake and icing flew everywhere. A sticky white substance splattered on Baekhyun's hair, eyebrows, and even eyelashes. Chunks of chocolate that had stuck to his jaw fell onto the shoulder of his shirt. Cora's nonchalance disappeared when she saw him turn red. He was going to kill her. He tried to wipe his eyes as he moved toward her. Cora got out of his way and, taking advantage of Baekhyun's temporary blindness, ran out the door.

She looked around frantically, searching for a safe place to hide. The circus had been dismantled. The smaller tents were closed and most of the trucks had left. She tripped over a bush and ended up taking refuge in a narrow space between two vans. Her heart beat hard against her ribs. What had she done? Had she completely lost her sanity? What if the emcee's introduction wasn't just about a lack of rationality and psychological logic? Could it be that the man's attractiveness had robbed her of her sanity so much that her heart already belonged to him? Was she going to go crazy because of love?

She hated arguing, irrespective of the person and the reason they might have, Cora had never been one to lose her temper so easily. She knew how to listen carefully. She thought before giving an answer and only if it suited her did she open her mouth. But at that moment she had acted with her heart.

Cora hugged herself, repeating that she was a fool for having too white a heart, for allowing herself to give so many opportunities to people who had rejected her in the first instance, and above all for believing that she had the ability to make a difference in their lives.

She winced at the sound of a man's voice and slid deeper into the shadows, crashing into something solid and human. An alarm went off in her head. She turned around, unable to bear it any longer. Turning, she found a warm fortress behind her and knew she had found a sanctuary. Then she felt something rough under her cheek. The events, the fear, the exhaustion and all the –distressing– changes in her life over the past two days overwhelmed her and she burst into tears.

Baekhyun's hand was surprisingly soft as he took her chin, forcing her to face him. Cora looked up at him. Still stained with cake and icing sugar, he looked fierce and magnificent. She realized that she feared Baekhyun in another way, one that she did not fully understand, she only knew that it was something that went beyond physical threat. It was more than that. Somehow she felt that he could damage her soul.

Cora had reached the limits of her endurance. There had been too many changes, too many conflicts, and she didn't feel like fighting anymore.

“I suppose now you want to threaten me with something horrible.”

“Don't you think you deserve it? Only children throw things, not adults.”

“You’re right, of course.” She brushed her hair away from her face with a shaking hand.

“What is this about? Humiliation? I've had enough for tonight. Limits? I've had enough too. Pressure? No, that won’t work, I'm too numb to feel it” she paused, hesitating. “I'm afraid you'll have to resort to something else.”

As he looked at her, she seemed so unhappy that something went soft inside Baekhyun. He brought his lips to hers, brushing against them but then he remembered that he shouldn't, so he turned away again. The sugar that hadn’t been cleaned with his sleeve had mixed with the salty liquid of her tears.

He knew that Cora was afraid of him –he had made sure of it– and yet he still couldn't believe that she had had the courage to throw the cake at him. He felt her tremble under his hands. Cora had shown her claws tonight but her eyes showed only despair. Did she know that her face reflected every one of her feelings? He wondered how many things had happened. Who was responsible for making her want to flee each time.

As he watched her, he had to restrain the sudden urge to pick her up and carry her back to the trailer, where he would lay her on the bed and find the answers to all the questions he was beginning to ask. What would her hair look like down and spread out on the pillow? He wanted to see her naked on the wrinkled sheets, to see the paleness of her skin against his, he wanted to soak up her essence and feel her touch.

The day before, he had told himself that she wasn’t the type of woman he would sleep with, much less be in a relationship with, but he also knew it was a matter of time. He couldn't touch her until he was sure she understood how things would be between them. And by then, there was a good chance that Cora would grab her suitcase and run away.

He took her by the arm and led her to the trailer. For a moment, she resisted and then she followed resignedly.

“I'm really starting to hate you,” she said weakly, her words almost inaudible. Baekhyun was surprised to find those very words hurt him, especially when that was what he wanted from her. Cora wasn’t cut out for such a hard life and he had no desire to prolong this indefinitely. It was the best he could do.

“Maybe it's for the best.”

“I've never met anyone so cold and cynical.” “Cold, Baekhyun. You're so cold.” He'd heard a lot of women say that before her. Kindhearted women. Competent and intelligent women who had deserved more than a man whose feelings were long gone before meeting them. When he was young, he had thought that a family could heal that wounded and lonely part of him. But while seeking a lasting relationship, he had hurt those kind-hearted women and proved to himself that he had no feelings to love any of them, even if he had intended to.

They reached the caravan. He passed Cora at the door and stepped inside.

“I'm going to take a shower. I'll help you clean up when I get out.” She stopped him before he reached the bathroom.

“Couldn't you have been a little more pleasant… Or at least try to enjoy my welcome party for one more hour?”

“I am what I am. I’m not pretending. I never do that. Don't get romantic ideas about me. It would just be a waste of time. I have learned to live by my rules. I try to be as honest and as fair as possible. For this reason I overlooked the fact that you threw cake at me but don’t confuse justice with feelings.”

Baekhyun entered the bathroom and closed the door. Squeezing his eyelids shut, he tried to put the play of emotions he had seen crossing Cora's face out of his mind. He had seen it all: caution, innocence, hope, and love, the last one terrifying, the prospect that he might not be as bad as he seemed.

↬ author’s note: next chapters will start to get spicier, as always, hope you enjoy it! as you know, any feedback is welcome ♡ and again: thank you and i love you a lots, Oliv.

#baekhyun fluff #baekhyun angst #baekhyun smut #baekhyun x reader #baekhyun x oc #baekhyun x you #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun fanfiction #baekhyun serie #baekhyun series #baekhyun au #baekhyun scenario #baekhyun scenarios #exo fanfic #exo fanfiction #exo au #baekhyun circus #exo circus #iluso amor

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