#the thing she said when she and others were berating and crowding Miles for not knowing how to be Spider-Man just FEW DAYS after he’s bitten | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

waywardbeanie · 4 years

Text

A Man of Letters - Chapter Three

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader Summary: It started as a simple hunt for Sam and Dean Winchester. Dean didn’t realize that this single case would change his life forever. Now they are on the biggest mission of their lives, and without the use of cellphones, the only way he can communicate with the love of his life is through old fashioned letter writing. He has done everything in his power to keep her safe, but will it be enough? Word Count: 3538

Series Warnings: Language, slow burn, angst, smut, alcohol consumption, fluff, SPN typical violence (individual chapters will contain relevant warnings) a little meta Chapter Warning: Violence, assault, humor (Is that really a warning?) and a little bit of sweet.

A/N: This series has been rattling around in my head for a while. It would never have made it to the light of day if it was not for my beautiful group of friends with whom none of this would be possible! You know who you are and I love you all!

Thank you to my beta @winchest09 without her none of this would be possible. If you’d like to be tagged, my list is open. Just send me an ask HERE: **Make sure you check out the playlist, it is updated every chapter and an essential part of the story**

Spotify Playlist : A Man of Letters

This series is ongoing!

No Gif’s are mine

“Weird,” Y/N huffed looking out the front window of her Main Street photography studio, “Photos That Rock”. That same black muscle car has passed by her shop window at least five times today. She feels like she should recognize it, but it is just out of reach. Pulling her hair back into a ponytail she began to straighten up around the studio. Last night was a late night, then tossing and turning all night thinking about Mr. Tall, Dark and Plaid. It was an early morning today with a full schedule of studio time and then she was set to go back to The Zoo for Blues night. “Thank God it’s Friday!” she thought.

Tomorrow she opens at 11:00 and only for a few hours. During the summer, the hours are reduced with people being on vacation or just busy. The last thing they want to do on a Saturday is to come in and have their picture taken. She had editing to do, but she could do that on her laptop at home barefooted, wearing shorts and a T shirt.

Y/N locked the door as she flipped the closed sign around. Walking to the back of the studio she grabbed her garment bag off the hook and proceeded to change clothes. She didn’t have time to go back to her house. Besides, once she went home, she wasn’t leaving. Finding that charming little 2-bedroom bungalow was a blessing.

Thinking back, she remembered driving around quaint little neighborhoods when Y/N saw the “For Sale” sign being put out. She pulled her black Jeep over to the side of the road and jumped out, clad in jean capris, her favorite white sneakers with a black ZZ Top “Tres Hombres” mugshot picture on the front, hair in a ponytail and large sunglasses adorning her face.

“Excuse me,” she said politely, as she approached the elderly woman trying to pound a sign into the hard dirt of the front yard. “May I ask you about the house?”

The old woman peered at her over her glasses. “Ya by yourself?” she almost shouted.

“Yes ma’am.” Y/N smiled.

“Ya like strong coffee?” she questioned again, “it’s the only kind of coffee I make,” she mumbled. Y/N nodded her head agreeably.

“Well, come on then, come in and look at the house. You can have a cup of coffee with me and I’ll tell ya about it.” Y/N followed behind the slowly shuffling woman with slide slippers and a faded blue house dress.

Within 2 hours, Y/N learned that Hazel had lived in this house her entire married life. Her husband Everett built it when he returned from the Pacific after WWII. The house was a little run down she explained because she had a hard time taking care of things after Everett died 18 months ago. Hazel was ready to move into the senior apartments where all her “widow friends” live. By Y/N's second cup of coffee, she and Hazel agreed on a price and that Y/N could have the house in a month. They agreed to meet at the lawyers in town the following Monday. She had a bounce in her step as she returned to her Jeep after hugging Hazel goodbye. Her step stuttered as a somber smile pulled at her mouth. “This was the first good thing she could use her parent’s life insurance for.”

Y/N shook her head to clear her mind of the past. Glancing at the clock she noticed that she needed to be at the bar in 30 minutes and it was 15 minutes away. She quickly stripped off her T-shirt and jeans and shimmied into her black leggings and pulled on her knee high, 5-inch heeled boots. Pulling her grey sleeveless flowing top over her head, tugging it down, it skimmed right at her mid-thigh. Focusing on her reflection, she quickly touched up her makeup and added lipstick. Yanking out the hairband, she returned it to her wrist, finger combing her hair.

“Well, that’s as good as it’s going to get today,” she said to herself. Turning around, she grabbed her backpack and keys and ran out the back door to her Jeep, praying she didn’t hit traffic.

The Jeep careened into the parking lot of The Zoo, throwing gravel as “My Kinda Party” by Jason Aldean blaring from the speakers. She made it with 5 minutes to spare. The bar was busy already, so she had to park on the far end of the lot. She grabbed her backpack off the seat and sprinted to the front door just as it swung open.

Stepping inside it was apparent it was going to be a different kind of night. The place was packed just about shoulder to shoulder. People weren’t here to dance, they were here to have a few beers and listen to great Blues music. Y/N snaked along the edge of the crowd to the bar, carefully removed her camera from the bag and handed the backpack to Travis. Surveying the crowd she knew she would get the best pictures by positioning herself on the edge of the stage.

Painstakingly she made her way to the front as the band rambled out. . She motioned to one of the members to confirm she would not be a distraction and he gestured for her to join them while grinning at her. “Make sure you get my good side.”

As they began to jam, the crowd surged forward and Y/N was glad she wasn’t on the floor tonight. She focused on the band and the front of the crowd for their first set, capturing ecstatic faces as the music rose and fell. After a hasty break the band began their second set with “Got My Mojo Working” by Muddy Waters. Y/N steadied herself on the side of the stage and began to scan the bar through her lens, capturing bits and pieces of the enthusiastic and eclectic crowd. The camera halted at 2 men that didn’t belong. They were leaning against the back wall with their arms crossed in front of their chest. They were tall and seem to tower above the crowd. Even this far away they seem pasty and unkempt. Y/N chucked to herself because one has a John Deere hat on and the other a Caterpillar hat, direct competitors. As she studied them, both snapped their heads up simultaneously. The look on their faces was so murderous that her stomach tightened, and she began to quake. Trying to settle herself her camera moved on instantly. As she wrapped up her shoot at the end of the night, she could still not shake the pit in her stomach.

She talked to the band for a few minutes as they were packing up their instruments and the crowd began to clear out. Jumping down off the stage, she went to the bar to gather her things.

“Thanks so much for tonight Y/N,” Travis pronounced handing her the backpack. “Do you need me to walk you out?”

“No, I’m good.” Y/N shook her head. “I’ll see you tomorrow night for the second blues show.”

Smiling, Travis toasted her with the glass he was polishing.

She hefted her backpack over her shoulder and with her head down, she headed outside. En route to her parking spot, she observed a group of men congregating close to her Jeep. Slowing her pace she began eyeing them closely, spotting immediately the 2 men in ball caps that creeped her out earlier. Giving them a wide berth she dug her keys out of her bag, kicking herself the whole time that she didn’t already have them in hand.

As she drew closer, the group began to watch her, making lewd remarks and vulgar gestures. She ran the rest of the way to her Jeep, jumped in, cranking the engine almost simultaneously. Y/N jammed it into reverse, throwing gravel, then ramming it into drive in one fluid motion, putting as much space between her and the group as possible. Her heart was thundering in her chest while her entire body began to quake. Her breaths came in short bursts as she propelled down the road, putting a few miles between her and the bar. Y/N began to talk herself down, trying to remember her yoga breathing as she berated herself for thinking of yoga at a time like this.

Steering closer to her house she began to compose herself. As she pulled into her driveway, she put her Jeep in park resting her head on the steering wheel, breathing slowly, in and out. Yanking her keys out the ignition she threw them into her bag. Taking one last calming breath she hoisted her bag on her shoulder and got out, slamming the door behind her.

She had taken three steps when a vice like grip wrapped around her bicep swinging her around and slamming her against the side of the Jeep, hurling the bag out of her reach and knocking the wind out of her. Y/N was momentarily paralyzed, the disbelief so profound. A large hand gripped the back of her neck, pulled her away from the Jeep and crushed the side of her face into the driver’s side window. He clenched her neck tighter as he pushed her face into the window. Tears are running down her face and she strains to hold in cries of pain and fear. She feels the weight of his chest press into her back, feeling his sticky hot breath on the side of her face.

“Did you think you could run?” he seethed. “Did you think we would not fucking find you?”

“W-W-What are you talking about?” Y/N choked out.

Spinning her around by her arm and tossing her back against the door, Y/N hit it like a ragdoll, sliding down the side of the vehicle as her fear incapacitated her mind and body. Looking up, she recognized her assailant from the bar with the John Deere hat. He gripped her by the throat, dragging her back up the Jeep. Y/N feet dangled off the ground, her right eye already swollen shut blood dripping from the side of her head and lip.

“Bitch, we’ve been looking for you for a long time,” he sneered. Y/N tried to shake her head back and forth.

“NO!” she struggled, “I don’t know you!”

He laughed as she tried to focus her one good eye. An index of faces flipping through her mind like a rolodex. He bent down, his fingers digging into her throat, leveling eye to eye with her.

“Oh, but we know you. You were supposed to be in the cabin with James and Diane. We should have been able to take care of all of you at once.” His mouth twisted, “Instead, we had to chase you ass across half the damn country.”

Uncontrollable tears were rolling down her face, blood pounding in her ears. The stranger straightened, his hand slightly loosening around her neck, feet still inches off the ground. “We usually like to play with our food, but those fuckin’ Winchesters are in town. I’ve messed around enough.”

Y/N could not make sense of anything this lunatic was saying. He knew about her parents’ cabin? He knew she was supposed to be there? Play with their food? Maybe she was blacking out from lack of oxygen. Winchesters?

She could feel herself weakening. She could hear screeching tires and yelling but it was so far away. She was opening her mouth to scream but only a raspy moan escaped. A look of panic crossed the strangers face. He looked at her, his features began to change. Sharp pointed teeth emerging from his gums. Y/N began to blink rapidly, attempting to process what she was seeing. She began to kick her legs in terror. Her brain was telling her what she was seeing was a hallucination, but her body was peaking at the fight or flight mode. The stranger's mouth was agape as a hiss left his throat. She stared at his mouth with what looked like hundreds of teeth made of needles

She opened her bloody lips to attempt to scream for the last time while looking into his eyes. His head completely disappeared, releasing his hold on her neck in which she crumpled into a heap on her driveway, gulping for air. She heard metal clattering on the cement and from her one working eye, saw a large hand grab the stranger’s body and toss it into the grass. In a flash, two strong hands grasped her shoulders and her flight kicked in. Thrashing around and trying to get away but he was holding on tight saying her name over and over, attempting to get through to her oxygen deprived brain. Shaking her shoulders as gently as he could, drawing his face closer to hers

“Y/N, Y/N look at me, just listen to my voice and look at me, look at my face.”

She peered up at him, the adrenalin beginning to dissipate as the tremors convulsed her body . She was trying to focus on what she saw but it was irrational. She felt like she was trying to put a puzzle together but none of the pieces fit. She squinted at his face and moved her lips to speak but nothing came out. She stuck her tongue out trying to moisten her lips wincing as she swallowed. Trying again she croaked, “Hot Flannel Guy?”

Chuckling Dean gathered her to his chest, “That’s right, sweetheart, it’s me, Hot Flannel Guy.” He picked her up, as if she weighed nothing the uninjured side of her face rested against his chest and she could feel the rumble of laughter against her cheek. She closed her uninjured eye and tried to breathe deep. He smelled clean and woodsy with a hint of sweat. “A sexy smell for a hot man,” she thought. She remembered she had caught a hint of that same smell yesterday when they danced.

“Where are we going?” she whispered her head foggy, feeling so tired. Dean started for her front door, Sammy not far behind. “We just need to get you in the house sweetheart”

“We only got three of them, the other two made it to the pickup and took off,” Sammy informed his brother, looking over his shoulder.

“Damn it!” snapped Dean “We can’t fucking leave her here now.”

Sam was juggling the machete, a bag and a first aid kit. “Let’s just get her in the house and then we can make a plan. It’s not like they are coming back tonight.”

Dean looked at Sam then at the front door. “Not to be a dick Sammy, but that door isn’t going to open itself.”

Sam rolled his eyes. He looked at Y/N in Dean’s arms and immediately felt bad. “Right.” He dropped the armload of stuff behind him on the large front porch and opened the screen door. There was a keypad and a doorknob and sighed. “What’s the code?”

Dean carefully jostled Y/N in his arms. “Hey, Y/N?” he asked her softly, “we need to get in the house, what’s the code?”

She had almost forgotten where she was, she hurt all over and could not stop trembling, but she was taking a small comfort in the feel of Dean’s arms around her.

“Let me down,” she croaked, starting to struggle, “I’m fine, I’m fine. Just let me down.”

Dean’s arms tightened around her. “Sweetheart, just tell Sam the code, we’ll get you in the house, THEN, I‘ll put you down.” She slumped back against him huffing

“8675309,” she rasped in the best sing song voice she could. Dean threw his head back and laughed as Sam smirked. “Jenny’s number? Your code is Jenny’s number?”

“I couldn’t help it, it’s the only number I could always remember.”

Still chuckling Dean leaned against the house as Sam entered the code. He pushed off, his elbow hitting the doorbell just as the door swung open. Robert Plant’s voice wailed from inside the house.

“Hey, Hey Mama said the way you move, gonna make you sweat, gonna make you groove”

Dean’s eyes snapped to Y/N’s face. “Woah, Zeppelin? Seriously?”

One side of her mouth tilted up. “Nobody wants a boring doorbell.”

Sam shook his head as he gathered the things off the porch, holding the screen door with his foot so Dean could carry Y/N in the house. He was beginning to feel like he was stuck in some kind of kismet thing between those two.

As Dean entered her home, he looked around trying to figure out where to lay Y/N down.

“No way does a Dude live here.”

All the walls were white with dark grey trim. The furniture was white in the living room with grey throw pillows and a turquoise throw on the side of the couch. The floors looked like they were finished in a weathered grey tone and it opened up into the airy white and grey kitchen. Different sized vases filled with fresh daisies and framed black and white photographs were placed throughout the area. With all the white, one would think that it would feel sterile but something about it gave off a cozy, comfortable feeling, like a breath of fresh air.

Sam strode into the kitchen and placed his armful of gear on the kitchen Island. He turned to Dean pointing to the couch.

“Nope.” Dean shook his head and looked at Y/N, “no way Sammy, it’s too clean in here.”

Y/N began to wriggle in his arms. “Lemme down,” she whispered. He had held her in his arms for so long she began to feel embarrassed but Dean tightened his hold around her. “Shhhh,” he said looking around again.

“Dude!” she yelled, shocking all three of them. “PUT. ME. DOWN.” Dean set her on her feet and her legs started to crumple from underneath her. He caught her again and hoisted her back up in his arms.

“Now what?” he ground out.

Sam pulled out one of the grey upholstered bar chairs from the kitchen island, “Put her here.”

He opened the freezer and grabbed a bag of peas and pulled a bottle of water from the refrigerator. Setting them on the island he walked over to the sink, tore some paper towels from the roll and saturated them with water.

Dean deposited her, none too delicately in the chair. Sam made his way back to her, walking around the island to stand next to Dean to face her. Her right eye was swollen shut and the right side of her top and bottom lip were busted covered in drying blood. As she looked up at her savior, they could see the purple handprint developing around her neck. Looking directly into Dean’s steely green eyes, she visibly flinched at the barely contained anger. Inhaling a shuddering breath, she spoke quietly.

“Who are you?”

“Oh yeah, that,” Dean smiled. “I’m Dean and this,” he motioned towards the other man, “is my brother Sam.”

He raised his hand, “Hi.”

Y/N studied both of them. Her good eye ping ponging between them until she finally landed back on Dean expectantly raising her eyebrow with a grimace of pain.

“Winchester.” Both spoke at the same time.

She huffed out a breath. “Of course it is, that creepy dude said he couldn’t play with his food because of the fuckin’ Winchesters. But I think I must have imagined stuff from lack of oxygen or something because after that, it’s all a blur and isn’t rational.”

“Well,” Sam hedged, reaching for the wet paper towels, “why don’t we try to get your face cleaned up and you can maybe take a shower. After that we can explain it all to you.” He reached up to start to blot her battered face.

“Dude, I got this!” Dean hip checked him, knocking him off balance. Sam scowled at him. “Sammy, why don’t...you know…” he motioned with his head toward the front of the house, “handle that other thing we need to do.” Sam looked at him incredulously, sarcasm flowing. “Great, yeah I’ll take care of that right now.” Spinning around he headed out the door. Dean knew he was going to hear about that later but he really didn’t give a damn.

Turning his attention back to Y/N he grabbed the damp paper towels off the island counter and started to dab her face. Wincing she pulled back. “Dean,” she murmured

“Yeah, sweetheart?” he began reaching around lightly, holding the back of her head so she would stop drawing back. “I need you to hold still for me for just a few minutes so I can get you cleaned up.”

She reached up, grasping his hand, meeting his eyes. Her bottom lip began to tremble, tears shimmering. “Thank you,” she breathed, “thank you for saving my life.”

He tenderly touched his forehead to hers. “I’m just glad we made it here on time.”

“Me too,” she choked out.

Chapter 4

Tags: @winchest09 @katehuntington @whatareyousearchingfordean @emoryhemsworth @flamencodiva @superfanficnatural @deanwanddamons @janicho88 @talesmaniac89 @anathewierdo @compresshischest09 @supernatural-bellawinchester @jensengirl83 @this-is-what-im-reduced-to @ellewritesfix05 @moron225 @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @unicornqu33n17 @swinchester27@4fareader @deans-baby-momma @squirrelnotsam @clumsy-nerd104 @sarahbaker2010 @supernatural-love14 @akshi8278 @lyarr24

#dean winchester x you #deanwinchester x reader #dean x you #dean x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester x y/n #reader insert #dean winchester fluff #dean Winchester smut #slow burn #dean Winchester series #waywardbeanie

102 notes · View notes

dannyphannypack · 4 years

Text

DP/PJO Crossover

Hello losers and welcome back to Taylor Writes A Teaser and Later Deletes the Entire Thing Because She Decides She Doesn’t Like it but She Wants to Put the Teaser Somewhere Else Where Her Grimy Little Hands Can’t Reach it so the Teaser Isn’t Lost Forever to Time! The Series. Today I’ve got a prologue for my upcoming fic, The Phantom Recollection. Enjoy!

“Woah.”

Daniel Fenton, newly fifteen, stood outside the Washington Square Park in lower Manhattan with a cardboard box overflowing with weaponry. He stood in front of the park’s Roman triumphal arch, where two statues of George Washington stared down at him. Behind the president on either side were two other people Danny didn’t recognize.

Jasmine, Danny’s older sister by two years, came up behind him toting another cardboard box labelled ‘Samples.’ She nodded toward the eastern pier. “That’s George Washington as Commander-in-Chief, Accompanied by Fame and Valor.” Jazz recited the words as if reading straight out of a textbook. “And the other one is George Washington as President, Accompanied by Wisdom and Justice.”

“Ah, yes,” Danny said as he adjusted his box. Guns were heavy. “My four favorite people: Fame, Valor, Wisdom, and Justice. Love those guys.”

Jazz nudged him with her shoulder and continued through the arch, where a crowd of people were gathered around a large fountain with jets that spewed water 45 feet into the air. A few adults sat around the fountain with their feet in the water and kids ran across the surface in swimsuits and trunks. Danny watched as one kid walked a little too close to the fountain and got pummeled by falling water.

The perimeter of Washington Square was decorated in booths. While one half of the square was shaded by the surrounding trees, the other half was enduring the hot July sun. Some people had been smart enough to bring canopy tents. Others were already baking.

“There,” Jazz said, pointing. A single empty fold-up table on the other side of the square sat in the sun with a sign that read, “RESERVED — Fentons.” Danny used a hand to shade his eyes in an attempt to get a better look at it.

“I told you that you should’ve brought sunglasses,” Jazz said. Danny figured she was rolling her eyes underneath her own pair of aviators.

“Yeah, yeah,” Danny huffed. “Let’s just go before I drop this Fenton-Tech all over the ground.”

A big guy in a bright orange neoprene HAZMAT suit ran into Danny from behind, almost making him fall over. Jack Fenton carried seven stacked cardboard boxes. “Whoops!” he shouted. “Didn’t see you there!”

Danny figured he couldn’t see anyone, anywhere, but a similarly-dressed woman in a bright blue suit came up behind him and urged him along. “Jack, I told you that we could just take a second trip.”

Beside Danny, Jazz hunched her shoulders like she thought she could hide in a turtle shell. “If anyone asks, I’m not related.”

Danny’s parents were … quirky, to say the least. Danny rarely saw them without their suits in public, and Danny even less so with his mom’s hood and red-tinted goggles. Underneath was a chin-length bob of red hair and deep blue eyes, almost purple in color. She was nothing compared to his dad, though, who was easily six feet seven and built like an MMA fighter (minus the rippling muscles). Huge. Stocky. Shaped vaguely like a box. He was difficult to miss. Even behind the boxes, people that walked past were giving him strange looks. Danny figured that was bad, since they were at a ghost convention.

“Not any ghost convention!” His dad had exclaimed, barely a week ago. “The Haunted America Conference in Alton, Illinois!”

“It’s not in Alton anymore, Jack,” His mom had sighed like they’d been over this three times already. “They had to move it due to popular demand.”

“Where is it, then?” Danny asked.

His mom had beamed. “Oh, Danny, you’re going to love this: New York City!”

And that’s how they’d ended up in America’s most populated city, carrying ghost weapons across a supposedly haunted park in the middle of July. Danny was pretty good at telling where ghosts were and where they weren’t, and there definitely wasn’t anybody here. The land had once been used as a mass burial ground during the yellow fever, but the spirits had all moved on since. If Danny had died during the yellow fever, he wouldn’t have stuck around either. Children running playfully over his unmarked corpse? No thanks.

Danny set his box at the foot of the table. His dad was trying to bend down without spilling the contents of his seven boxes everywhere, and his mom was fussing over him. “Don’t worry, Maddie, I got it!” his dad said, and he set the boxes on the pavement a little too roughly. The bottom box made a noise like breaking glass and crumpled underneath the weight. Ectoplasm began oozing out the sides.

“I’ve got the other samples,” Jazz drawled, setting down the box. “If you need me I’ll be by the fountain pretending that I don’t exist.” She shouldered her backpack and walked away.

“I’m just gonna go, uh, walk around,” Danny said.

His mom opened her mouth like she meant to tell him to stay there and help set up the booth, but she replaced the expression with a hesitant smile. “Go have fun. Be back by noon.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Danny knew how much his mother liked physical reassurance, so he stood on his tip-toes and pecked her cheek. “Love you.”

She smiled. “Love you, too.”

Danny turned and started heading around the square, glancing at people’s ghostly booths without actually getting close enough to warrant a conversation. He didn’t get a chance to walk very far, though. While passing a section of the square that branched off into a sidewalk, an old lady in a black hood grabbed him by the hand and pulled him aside. Despite the temperature (and the outfit choice), her skin felt cold. Danny forced himself to remain calm. Not a ghost, he told himself. Still, the woman set him on edge. When she opened her mouth, she sounded like she was hissing. Between gasping breaths, she said,

“Three shall find the child of death

Who loses his mind with one gasping breath

The son of the sea god must attend

To repay the kindness of a forgotten friend

See that his memories are safely returned

Or the reign of the King will be overturned.”

Danny blinked and she was gone, melting into the shadows of a big elm tree. “Wait!” he shouted, but the old woman had disappeared.

A wild animal growled nearby, but it came from all sides and echoed like Danny was in a cave.

He shivered. Get it together, Fenton. You’re losing it, man.

Thinking about how characters in movies splashed their faces with cold water when they were upset, he turned and walked down the sidewalk in search of a restroom.

Jazz sat on the steps of the fountain. With her laptop balanced in her lap, she reached into her backpack and removed a flash drive from her key ring of flash drives. This one was marked by a little cartoon ghost painted in neon green nail polish. She inserted it and opened up the folder. More folders stared back at her. Ghost Psychology, Ghost Physiology, Ghost Physics, Ghost Theories, Ghost, Ghost, Ghost. Jazz pursed her lips. Maybe she should take the ‘Ghost’ out of all her folder titles. The nail polish ghost on her flash drive already told her what it was.

“Hey,” someone said from behind her, and she jumped. Pulling her computer screen down, Jazz turned and looked up at the girl who had spoken.

She might have been a bit younger than Danny, though Jazz couldn’t tell exactly. She had long, curly red hair and dozens of freckles that decorated her nose like tiny paint splatters. Her eyes were so green they practically glowed in the light of the sun, swirling with mirth and curiosity. She was wearing red running shorts and a white t-shirt, so she looked like she had just finished a jog. Jazz supposed that she might have; this was a park, not a year-round ghost convention.

“Hi,” Jazz replied, pushing up her sunglasses so that they rested on her head. She visibly relaxed.

The girl chuckled and sat down beside her. She began taking off her sneakers and socks. “Surprised to see a fellow redhead at the Haunted America Conference.”

Jazz looked up and observed the crowd. She didn’t know how she hadn’t noticed before, but the people wandering about the square were a sea of black clothes and colorfully-dyed hair.

Jazz snorted and reopened her laptop. “That’s why you came over here?”

“No. I happened to see your computer screen.” She leaned in close for a better look. “Ghost Psychology, huh?”

Jazz closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Look, I know it seems weird—”

“No, I love it!” The girl said. “Everybody else here is all, ‘Palmistry, Chakra, Tarot Readings.’ You’re asking the real questions. What do ghosts think about? That’s what I’m interested in.”

If anybody else had said that, Jazz would have assumed they were being condescending. This girl, though … she could tell that she was just curious. “You believe in ghosts?”

“Yeah, sure,” she said, putting her feet in the water and kicking them back and forth a bit. “Why not? Had this weird experience at the Hoover Dam last month. Not a ghost, I think, but—” she cut herself off and bit her lip, like she was trying to stop herself from retelling it. She raised her hand for Jazz to shake. “My name’s Rachel. Rachel Dare.”

Jazz shook it politely. “Jazz Fenton.”

“Fenton, huh?” Rachel looked like that name sounded familiar but she didn’t want to say anything about it.

“Yeah, I know,” Jazz said, preparing herself for the obligatory ‘I’m a Fenton’ speech. “Parents are Maddie and Jack Fenton, ghost hunters extraordinaire. Last year they saved Amity Park from being annihilated by the Ghost King, yadda yadda.

“They did what?” Rachel squeaked, but she sounded more amused than shocked. “Ghost King?”

Jazz mentally berated herself. Without thinking, she’d started spewing the information that everybody back in her home state wanted to know. She hadn’t thought about the fact that she was in New York, hundreds of miles away. Stupid.

Rachel must have saw Jazz wince, because she switched gears. “So, ghost hunters,” she said. “Your folks got a TV show?”

Jazz took a second to process the change in topic. She blinked once. Twice. Suddenly, she burst out laughing.

“What?” Rachel yelled over Jazz’s laughter. “What’s so funny?”

Jazz giggled but calmed down. “Sorry. My parents having a TV show … I can’t imagine.”

“What do they do then?” she asked. “Ghost Tours?”

“Ghost—?” Jazz cleared her throat to keep herself from laughing again. “No, no, no, Rachel, you’ve got my family all wrong. Think, ‘shoot first and ask questions later.’”

Rachel’s eyes widened. “They shoot ghosts? How does that work?”

Jazz jabbed a finger behind her, where her parents had started on the box of weaponry. Her mom set the Fenton Bazooka down. Like anybody was gonna buy that.

Rachel gulped. “So I’m hoping you’re the ‘ask questions, shoot later’ one.”

Jazz nodded mutely and opened her Ghost Psychology folder. At the top was a folder labelled ‘Danny Phantom,’ but she scrolled past it to the general information. “My parents think that ghosts are inherently evil and have no thoughts of their own. They’re just a bad copy of their old human consciousness, wanting to get revenge on humans because they’re jealous that we’re alive or something. But they’re so much more than that. They have these—these ghostly obsessions.” She opened a Word document and began scrolling. “But they’re not evil obsessions. Sure, when they die, they can be like, ‘I’m going to make them pay.’ But usually it’s more of a gray area. Like, ‘I’m going to watch after my family,’ or ‘I’m never going to stop writing.’ What my parents don’t understand is that they’re not unary; they can think about other things. They aren’t limited to one state of mind.”

Rachel looked surprised at the sudden lecture, but she adjusted quickly. “Who is Skulker?”

“Oh.” Jazz paused and bit her lip. “He’s—he’s not the best.”

“What’s his obsession?”

“Hunting,” Jazz said, though she didn’t sound as excited as she had before.

“I’m guessing he’s not hunting for deer,” Rachel said, watching Jazz’s reaction. “Okay. Then … who is Danny Phantom? Why’s he got a folder to himself?”

Jazz’s eyes widened.

“Right. Another touchy subject.”

“No,” Jazz said, shaking her head. “No, he’s … he’s good. Great, even. I think he’s obsessed with protecting people.”

“Well, that’d good, isn’t it?”

“Yeah!” Jazz exclaimed. “I mean, yeah, it’s really good.”

Rachel stared at her. “But … something’s wrong?”

Jazz exhaled slowly through her nose, considering what she should and should not say. “He’s just a little … too protective, I guess. Never thinks about himself. Always rushes in when he could get hurt.”

“Ghosts can get hurt?” Rachel asked.

“This one can.”

Rachel could tell that Jazz didn’t want to talk about it, but she was curious. Choosing her words carefully, she asked, “What’s he like?”

Jazz smiled. “Oh, he’s great. Always saving the day. You know, everybody thanks my parents for the Ghost King thing, but it was really him. Our entire city was transported to a different dimension called the Ghost Zone. It’s where all ghosts live. The Ghost King had just woken up. People doubted his power. He was going to kill us all to set an example. Let everybody know that he was in charge.”

Jazz took a deep breath. “And then … well, Phantom couldn’t stand for that. He was already upset because … someone else got hurt. So he went up there by himself and beat him. He could’ve died.” Her eyes widened. “Well, not died, but he could’ve gotten hurt.”

They sat in silence for a moment, staring out at the fountain and watching the water splash against the surface. Some little kids ran by them, laughing. Rachel said, “You like this guy a lot, huh?”

That seemed to break Jazz out of her stupor. Her cheeks turned red. “Not romantically!” she shouted. “I care about him like a little brother. Not—” She put her face in her hands.

Rachel laughed and stood, shaking the water off her bare feet. “I’ve got to get going before my dad comes home for his lunch break and finds out that I’ve left the house. It was nice meeting you, Jazz.” She pointed at the laptop. “You keep that ghost science thing up. You never know. You might end up publishing it and becoming famous.”

“Your shoes,” Jazz said, grabbing the sneakers and holding them up to her. Her socks had been stuffed into the toes.

“Oh! Right.” She took them but didn’t bother putting them on; instead, she started walking up the steps and back into the square, barefoot. “And you keep that Phantom kid from doing anything stupid!” She added.

Jazz laughed. “I’ll try!” she shouted back.

Just like that, Rachel Dare was gone.

In hindsight, Danny should’ve known that he’d never get a break. Weird stuff had been happening to him since last year like clockwork. August: get ghost powers. September: fight ghosts. November: find out that a creepy old man has ghost powers, too. December: fight ghosts. On and on and on until now, watching people stumble through the gates of a sandy dog park behind the restroom he’d found. An old lady shuffled past him, screaming bloody murder. “Rabid dog!”

Danny turned back towards the dog park. That thing was no dog. Snarling angrily at a park ranger was a full-grown lion, 500 pounds at least. It snorted a small plume of red-orange fire. Danny blanched. Yeah, so maybe it wasn’t a lion.

Danny was still trying to process its more … interesting parts. From its back sprouted a black ram’s head, with big, curly ebony horns and a sneer almost as nasty as the lion’s. It, too, huffed, but only smoke came from its mouth. Thank god. Danny didn’t know if he could handle two fire-breathing heads.

Then there was the matter of the tail. The golden fur grew in patches before tapering off into tough yellow and orange snake-skin. At the tail’s end was a full, honest-to-god python. As he watched, the snake looked up at Danny and flicked its tongue.

This was a ghost. It had to be a ghost, right? Sure, it didn’t glow like a ghost … and it didn’t float like a ghost … and it didn’t set off his ghost-sense like a ghost … but what else could it be? An animal experiment escapee from the Central Park Zoo? Danny seriously doubted that.

The park ranger pressed his back against the fence, which was a little too high for him to jump, and made a high-pitched whimpering sound. Danny shook his head. He didn’t have time for this. Whatever it was, he had to get rid of it.

Danny glanced nervously at the security cameras attached to the public restroom and nestled between the trees. Okay. He had to get rid of it, but without ghost powers. How?

Looking around for anything he could use, Danny settled on rock and tossed it twice into the air to test its weight. Deciding that it would work, he shouted, “Hey, Alex the Lion!” and threw it as hard as he could. It hit the creature in the back of the head.

That got its attention. Turning away from the ranger, the lion growled and set the floor around the gate on fire. Danny surveyed the fence. He wondered if he could jump it or if he’d seriously have to run through flames to get inside. Danny didn’t like heat. It wasn’t his thing. If he channeled a little flight into the jump, would it be too noticeable?

He didn’t have to think about it for very long, though. A boy and a girl, apparently unconcerned with the security cameras, catapulted over the fence on the other side and somersaulted into a standing position, one holding a dagger and the other holding an entire sword.

A sword. This day was just getting weirder and weirder.

The girl kicked the guy in the back of the knee, causing him to fall. She pushed him toward the lion. “Mmm, look, yummy demigod!”

“Annabeth!” The guy spluttered, standing. Just in the nick of time, too. Their entrance had caught the creature’s attention. It lunged forward. The kid jumped out of the way.

Danny raised his eyebrows. The girl, Annabeth, had her wavy blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail. She wore jean shorts and a hazard orange t-shirt similar to Danny’s dad’s suit. The guy was wearing the same shirt, though he had a pair of black basketball shorts on instead. Together, they shared a matching gray streak of hair. He wondered if they’d dyed it together.

In the other corner, the park ranger fainted.

With nothing but sand and rocks to fuel it, the flames around the gate died, allowing Danny to walk in like a normal person. Unlike the other two, he’d rather not high-jump a fence with security cameras watching. Even in New York he needed to keep up appearances.

The creature rushed toward Annabeth and its snake head-of-a-tail wrapped around her arm, squeezing until she dropped her dagger with a pained yelp. She looked down at it and kicked it in the general direction of the other guy.

Okay, my turn, Danny thought. He grabbed another rock (this one sharper, yay!), stepped through the gate, and threw it. It cut a long gash through the ram’s cheek. The lion turned to face him.

Both of the strangers looked surprised to see him there, like they hadn’t noticed a fifteen-year-old kid standing by the front gates. Honestly, Danny was surprised that he was still there, too. He had seriously considered running away when he saw them jump the fence. He had thought, Great! Back to my vacation, but his feet stayed firmly planted on the ground.

Annabeth recovered quickly. With the lion-goat-snake-thing distracted, she ripped her arm free of the snake’s grip and tumbled away.

The lion head roared, shooting fire across the park at Danny. He rolled out of the way and stood, bouncing on his toes. What he would give to be able to fly right now.

The other guy stared at him.

“What?” Danny snapped.

“Your pants are on fire.”

Danny looked down. Sure enough, the hem of his jeans hadn’t been as lucky as the rest of him. Patting it out, he shouted, “Dude!”

And then the lion was on top of him.

Now, Danny had been in some pretty sticky situations. The lion had his arms pinned on either side of his head. Danny couldn’t help but flash back to another time, when a ghost panther had been on top of him in the same fashion. It wasn’t the same, but still. Two giant cats pinning him to the ground in a year? That was sad.

On one side of him was Annabeth, on the other, the guy. Annabeth pointed frantically to his right. His eyes flicked in the direction she was indicating. Ah, yes, the dagger! He’d never be able to grab it with the creature’s full attention on him, though.

“Percy,” Annabeth said in a harsh whisper. He didn’t seem to notice. With a stomp, Annabeth ground out, “Per-see!” and nodded her head toward the dagger. He opened his mouth like, Ah, hyped himself up by jumping up and down, and started running top speed with his sword held high above his head, screaming.

The lion gnashed its teeth like it was annoyed. The goat head bleated angrily. The snake hissed. In one swift motion, the creature lifted one of its massive paws and hit Percy across the stomach. He flew backward into the metal fence.

Fortunately for Danny, that was all the time he needed. With one arm free, he reached for the dagger, got a hold of it, and pushed it into the lion’s chest. He cringed, bracing himself for the five hundred pounds of lion-goat-snake-thing that was about to die on top of him. Instead, it began raining sand.

Danny opened his eyes, sat up, and immediately began gagging. “It got in my mouth!” he yelled, though it sounded more like, “It got in me mouf!”

Percy, who had been thrown into the fence and didn’t look much better than Danny, had the audacity to start laughing. Danny turned and glared at him, using his hands to brush lion-goat-snake dust off his tongue. He only succeeded in adding more sand from the ground to his mouth.

Annabeth held out her hand for Danny and helped him to stand. Percy cleared his throat, like, Hey, aren’t you gonna help me up, too? but Annabeth just looked Danny up and down with a puzzled expression. Her eyes were gray like a storm cloud. “Who are you?” she asked. It sounded like an accusation.

Danny was still spitting sand and monster dust all over the ground. “Danny,” he said between gagging. “Bleh.”

“First time?” Percy quipped, helping himself up by leaning heavily on the fence behind him. He winced and held his stomach.

“I’m Annabeth,” Annabeth said. She gestured flippantly at her friend. “That’s Percy. I’ve never seen you before. Where did you come from?”

Danny furrowed his eyebrows, thoroughly confused. “You ever meet a tourist?”

Annabeth continued to stare at him. Shaking her head, she asked, “Where’s your parent?”

“Uh, parents? And they’re at Washington Square.”

“You have a stepparent?” Percy blurted.

“What?”

Percy changed gears. “You’re adopted?”

“What? No!”

Percy’s eyes widened. He muttered, “You’re like Rachel?”

“Who?” Danny and Annabeth asked in unison. For once he wasn’t the only one out of the loop.

“Look,” Danny said, brushing himself off. “This has been super fun, but I’ve got a ghost convention to get back to.” He turned on his heel and started stalking out of the dog park. What was up with them assuming he didn’t have parents? And people thought he was nuts.

“Wait!” Percy shouted. Danny paused mid-step. “Thank you.”

Danny considered that. He wasn’t supposed to be a hero in human form. It was dangerous. Even now, he was running through scenes in his head of these two stealing the security footage and putting him on YouTube or something. Highly unlikely, but anxiety twisted that in his head and made him more and more uncomfortable. He turned back around. “Look … don’t tell anybody about this, yeah?” Then, to disguise his nervousness, he said, “My parents would flip if they found out lion-goat-snake hybrids existed.”

“Chimera,” Annabeth said.

“Bless you,” said Percy.

“What? No! Percy, you of all people should know this. The Chimera is a Greek monster. Bellerophon shot it with the help of Pegasus. Do you listen to anything we tell you in camp?”

Percy shrugged noncommittally.

Annabeth fumed. “I—”

“You could come with us, you know,” Percy said, cutting Annabeth off. “To camp, I mean.”

Danny pretended like he was considering the offer. “Hmm, a camp with a Greek mythology class? No thanks.”

“It’s not a myth,” Percy said, rushing to get what he wanted to say out before Danny lost interest and left. “The Greek gods, I mean. They’re real. We could really use someone like you.”

Danny considered this. Right, so … crazy. They were crazy. If the Greek gods existed, why would there be a Ghost Zone? Didn’t spirits go to the Underworld in Greek mythology or something? But then again … what else could that lion-goat-snake thing be? It definitely wasn’t a ghost.

Danny shook his head. He had enough things to worry about. This was crossing into the Too Weird category. Turning, he said, “Thanks for the offer, but I’ve gotta go throw rocks at some other monsters. See you around.”

He walked out the gates and down the sidewalk towards Washington Square, thinking, I could really go for a sandwich right now.

619 notes · View notes

asian-hero · 4 years

Text

The Tempest King and his Maid (1)

A/N: So, it’s been a while since I’ve posted an actual story, huh? Sorry about that, I’ve been both in a serious writers block and in a funk about whether or not my writing is actually good. But, I digress, here’s the first part of the Dimitri/Maid!Reader fic that I posted a couple months back, I hope you enjoy!

Summary: After running away from your father in the Adrestian Empire and your mother dying, you found yourself stealing in order to keep yourself alive. However, your fate seems to change when a kind angel dressed in the Kingdom’s maid attire extends her hand.

Words: 7,536

The first time you’ve seen snow was at the border leading to the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus from the Adrestian Empire. At the young age of four, you and your mother had fled the empire to seek a better life within the cold walls of the kingdom after your father had used you as a bartering chip to earn quick money. Before you could even grasp the concept of complete sentences and coherent thoughts, you knew to never trust anyone, and that everyone would want something of you eventually, no matter how sweetly the words were twisted.

From ages four to eight you lived most of your life in a tavern, silently watching your mother work as a bar wench, serving less-than-savory customers who’d slur advances towards her, under the guise of drunkenness. It was here which you learned how quickly supposed “secrets” could be so easily bought with a swig of alcohol, and how simple it was to take from a drunk. The first time you stole was when a man got too close to your mother. Per usual, she’d rejected any advances made at her, simply stating she was here to do her job. One man in particular was unhappy about it, and rather than accepting rejection in a dignified manner, forcefully grabbed her arm and berated her in front of the entire bar. It was clear to anyone in a five mile radius that he was extremely drunk and wasn’t in complete control of his actions, but that didn’t stop the hot tears from prickling at your mother’s eyes, or the slight tremble of her lip. As a young lady of seven, you’d never felt as much rage in your small frame as you had witnessing a complete stranger speak to your mother as if she were an idiot. So as the man had been pulled away from her, you quietly swooped in, grabbing the poorly placed sack of coins from his belt and shrinking away to behind the counter. When the man was finally leaving to pay, he was confused to find his money missing and, with a blanched face, meekly left the tavern, but not before being confronted by the owner. You never saw him again after that.

When you and your mother had finally retired for the night you gleefully showed her your spoils. Instead of seeing her kind smile, you were met with a tired sigh and a deep frown. Kneeling down to meet your eyes, she told you it wasn’t right to take from anyone without asking.

“No matter what’s happened, it’s never okay to steal, even if you feel it’s rightly yours.”

After that, you apologized, agreeing to never steal again.

That was, until age ten.

The winter’s in Faerghus were unbearable, even if you were better off. So, for the poor, winter’s were horrendous. There was enough snow to make it up to your knees, and in those few patches where snow wasn’t, ice made sure to form. Although your body wasn’t used to the bitter cold, you could deal with it. The slight heat from your small fireplace had made it bearable, not comfortable, but bearable. Your mother, however, could not handle it. No matter how many logs you put in the fireplace, or however many blankets you threw across her small frame, she fell ill, and with no money to pay for a decent healer, she’d soon met her fate. You were sure that the Goddess had shunned you, as spring had came the next day, with the sun finally peaking through the windows, casting a warm glow on a rather dreary sight. You never did get to give your mother a proper burial, and you hoped that she would forgive you for that.

———

You hoped that your mother would forgive your for many things after her death. For the next few years, you would steal anything you could to survive. Some nights you only ate one small loaf, while on others you could snag a few apples along with the mix. You also found abandoned homes to sleep in, shielding you from the cold of the night. It wasn’t your preferred way of living, but it kept you alive, and the Goddess be damned if you died without fighting Death themself.

Things were starting to look up when you’d bumped into a castle maid at the market at age twelve. By this time you’d grown from stealing food to valuables that could earn you a profit from selling them. The market was the perfect space for you, as it was crowded enough where no one would catch you, but not so much to where you couldn’t see where you were going. As you were walking through the market, you noticed a rather frail woman walking through, wearing a uniform issued from the royal family of Fhirdiad. Where she came from didn’t interest you as much as the golden emblem that was attached to her skirt, you could practically see the coins piling into your hands from the profit you’d make from it. Quietly, you approached the maid, making sure to not seem too suspicious, and when you finally approached her, you reached out for the emblem and tugged.

Unfortunately for you, the emblem was secured rather tightly onto the dress, which caught you off guard. So there you stood, with one hand wrapped around the maid’s emblem, tugging at her skirt, trying to not make eye contact. Before you could release it and run, you felt a soft touch on your shoulder. Steeling yourself, you meekly looked up at the older woman, who, rather than glaring down at you, was smiling. Gently, she pried your hand from her skirt and kneeled down to meet your eyes.

“What’s a girl like you doing running all by yourself?”

You didn’t respond, frozen from fear the maid would report you. When you didn’t speak up, the woman sighed, taking in your stillness.

“I’m not going to report you, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she glanced around the market, a curious look forming, “Where are your parents?”

When you looked down at the ground with a frown, she understood. With a contemplating look on her face, the woman stood up and reached toward you with an open hand. You looked back up at her quizzically. She only smiled.

“Come along then, little one. Let’s finish our shopping and get back to the castle.”

You must’ve looked horrified when she spoke because shortly after she laughed, a wondrous sound that reminded you of your mother. “I already said I’m not going to report you, but I refuse to let you stay here any longer.”

After a few seconds of hesitation, you slowly reached for her hand, squeezing it. You allowed yourself to be tugged along, listening to the older lady ramble on about what items she needed to grab, why she needed it, and why she was shopping in the outskirts of Fhirdiad. When the both of you were finally leaving the market and heading towards the castle, you finally spoke:

“Why?”

She looked back towards you, a pleasant smile on her face. “Hmm?”

“Why are you helping me?”

She seemed caught off guard for a moment, before knelling down once again, brushing away stands of hair from your face.

“Every child deserves chance at life, so why would I take that away from you?”

And that was the end of that.

———

Once you had finally arrived at the castle, the maid, whom you’d learned was named Lucy, led you to the servant’s quarters, where she walked you to her quarter’s and told you to stay while she went to speak to the head mistress. Left to your own devices, you wandered around her room, looking at the minimal decor she had. Walking towards her bed, your hands wandered across the bed spread, admiring how soft the blankets were, and how durable they’d be during the cold winter months. Hoisting yourself up, you sat on top of the bed, your feet dangling from beneath you. You took in your surroundings, the softness from beneath you, the warmth that filled the room, and the smell of freshly bloomed flowers that wafted in from Goddess knows where. It was much nicer than any place you stayed, but that wasn’t really saying much, since you slept just about anywhere that’d keep you safe for the night.

A few moments turned into minutes, minutes turned into hours, and soon enough, you couldn’t fight off the sweet embrace of sleep that had begun to creep upon you. Slowly, you laid down on the bed, curling into a ball to make yourself as small as possible, and drifted off to sleep.

You didn’t know how long you slept, or whether anything you had just experienced was a dream, however when you woke up a thick blue blanket was thrown across your frame, and your head was positioned to lay on the pillow above you. Blearily blinking the sleep from your eyes, you lifted your head up, noting the lit candle sitting on the table beside you.

“Ah, you’re awake. Did you sleep well?”

Your head whipped toward the sound, taking comfort when faced with Lucy, the dear maid who brought you here. Calming yourself, you nodded your head, moving to sit up. She hummed softly, her features exuding a motherly aura. “Well, I spoke to the head mistress, and I believe that we can make some room for you to stay here, with us.”

A wave of excitement rushed through your body, and Lucy could probably tell from the way you gasped slightly, with your hands tightly bunching the blue blanket together and the way your face grew hopeful. You could see the crinkles form at the corners of her eyes, but before you could relay any of your gratitude, she spoke:

“However, there is a catch,” She held her breath for a moment before continuing, “If you’re to stay here, then you must also help around the castle.”

You felt the excitement from before begin to simmer. It wasn’t that you weren’t willing to help around the castle, in fact, you knew that there’d be a trade off in order for you to stay. But you didn’t know even know how to properly clean a house, let alone a castle made for the royal family.

As if sensing your worries, Lucy placed a hand over yours, lending you some comfort. “Do not worry, we’ll teach you all you need to know about serving the Kingdom.”

Although her words gave you seldom comfort in your abilities, you could only nod in agreement, if only to give yourself a second chance at life.

———

After the first year of serving as a maid for the royal family of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus you had adapted fairly well, or, to your dear Lucy, exceedingly well considering the circumstances.

You’d learned the secret art of correctly polishing any decorative pieces, making them rival the shine of the stars in the night sky. You also learned, but had not yet practiced due to your limited time being there, how to properly set the table for the Blaiddyd family, and how to serve any meal with efficiency and poise. Along with this, Lucy had taught you how to read and write, stating that everyone needed to learn someday. However, the most wonderful treat to the other maids and butlers was the way you were able to quickly mend broken weapons and make them almost as good as new. It wasn’t a skill you thought would be put to use within the safety of the castle, but it proved to be quite useful.

The first time your skill had been put to use was when Lucy was giving you a tour of all the unrestricted areas within the castle. You two had finally reached the training grounds, which she told you to be cautious when walking around there. When you had turned the corner, a fragment of a training lance hit you square in the face. Blinking, you raised one hand to cover your forehead, while the other went to go and retrieve the broken piece from the ground. You couldn’t even get a word out before you were bombarded by noise.

“Oh dear, are you alright?” Lucy’s voice cut through the commotion, her hand coming down to caress your head.

You nodded your head, smiling slightly, before noticing four other children hesitantly coming closer. The first one, a boy with long blonde hair, whom you recognized as Prince Dimitri, seemed to look the most guilty, along with the raven haired boy next to him. The third child, a blonde girl, who could pass for the prince’s sister if not for her striking green eyes followed close behind, a scowl on her face. The fourth child looked slightly older than the rest, his fiery red hair flopping about as he bounced from one foot to the next, a nervous tick.

“Are you okay?” The prince asked, genuine worry etched into his face.

The second boy scoffed, but you could tell he felt guilt as well, “It’s not like the pointy end got her,”

The blonde girl seemed furious after that statement, moving to pinch both boys. “Felix, don’t be so rude, and Dimitri, you need to learn to control your strength!”

The older boy sighed, but there was a ghost of a smile gracing his features. “Don’t be so harsh, Ingrid, they were just practicing,”

Ingrid whipped around, her fury directed toward him. “Sylvain—“

“I’m alright.” You interrupted, not wanting to prolong the fighting any longer than it needed to.

As if remembering something, you froze in your spot, before bowing politely towards the prince. It was one of the first things you were taught, to always show respect towards the royal family. Once you finally stood, you shifted your facial features to become more pleasant.

“If you’d like, I could fix that for you,” You stated quietly, holding out your piece of the broken lance and then pointing to the broken one in the prince’s hands.

The group silenced after that, looking towards you, then the lance, and then back to you. With a sheepish look, Dimitri held out the remains of his training lance.

“That would be wonderful, father would be disappointed if her knew I broke another one so quickly,”

You took the remaining pieces and bowed your head before silently returning to Lucy’s side, asking her to bring you back to the maid’s quarters so you could have a head start to your first project.

Within two days, the wooden training lance was put back on the weapons shelf, sporting a new bandage around the middle where it split. Although it seemed perilous, the repair proved to be worth it, as it only broke when handled by Prince Dimitri, who still needed to learn to control his strength.

Months later, you were still repairing weapons destroyed by the prince, although instead of wooden ones, they were soon replaced by iron. Still, your repairs were unmatched, and it was a rather good investment for the Kingdom, who only need to buy half of what they used to in replacements. However complacent you were in repairing lance after lance, you couldn’t help but wonder how inept the prince was if he was continuously breaking weapons like this. Wooden ones you could understand, but iron? He was no older than you, and you knew it took much longer for you to break wood, let alone iron.

Eventually, you grew a distain for repairing weapons, and a slight distain for the prince himself. Not that you’d tell anyone, but his repeated offensives were starting to irritate you, and although you weren’t expected anything in return, you at least would appreciate an apology for breaking so many weapons within a month. Of course, you knew better than to hold your breath for one, so instead you stayed complacent, mending the broken weapons in a continuous cycle.

Once you had finished your mending for the day, you walked yourself over to the training grounds, taking extra care to not drop any of them. You quickly went to the weapon’s rack and started to arrange them accordingly. Just as you were about to leave you heard loud chatter coming from the hall.

From around the corner came Prince Dimitri and his friend, Felix, seemingly in an engaging conversation. Once the two noticed you they came to a halt, their conversation paused. Bowing, your eyes met with the prince’s feet.

“Your Highness, I’ve fixed your lance,” standing up to your full height, you nodded your head in acknowledgement, “I will be taking my leave.”

As you left you could hear the prince and his friend mumbling about something, but you couldn’t be bothered to eavesdrop.

You were barely out of the training grounds when you heard the familiar snapping of iron, along with a quiet “oh goddess.” Sighing, you rubbed your face, groaning lightly. With growing annoyance, you turned around and walked back into the training room. You were met with the embarrassed face of the prince and the thinly veiled amusement of his friend, trying his hardest to not laugh at him. Gently, you took the broken weapon from his hands, not meeting his gaze.

“Apologies, your majesty. I should’ve made sure this lance was sturdy enough, I’ll have this repaired in a couple days.”

With that, you bowed once more, before leaving again.

You truly couldn’t fathom how strong and boorish the young prince was, and it was a thought that both annoyed and intrigued you.

———

A week later the iron lance was back in action and you were back to your regular duties. You mostly worked in the laundry room, as it was one of the least desirable jobs to do, and as the newest member you did any job that no one wanted to do.

It wasn’t the worst job, in fact, you rather enjoyed it. You were able to work by yourself, with no one else bothering you, especially the nobles. Now, you didn’t have a problem with them, per se, but you couldn’t understand how some of them could be so rude to the people who serve them. For all they knew, you could kill them in an instant, whether it be poison in their soups or smothering their faces with a pillow when you came to wake them in the morning. You knew it was awful for you to think this way, but you couldn’t help it, so it was probably good for both you and the general public that you were assigned to laundry duty.

It had taken you nearly three hours to finish washing and drying all the servants uniforms. By the time you’d finished your hands had pruned up and small cuts were embedded in your fingertips. Unfortunately for you, the time in-between laundry duty and supper was slight, meaning that you usually didn’t have a lot of time to change your clothes. Rushing down the halls, you hoped you’d make it to supper on time, but you knew it’d be a close call.

Before you turned the corner to your quarters, you heard a few familiar voices:

“I still don’t think it’s a good idea to sneak in here, we could be in big trouble if we’re found out.” Felix.

A loud slap could be heard reverberating against the walls, presumably from a clap on the shoulder. “No one’s going to find out, and if anyone saw us, we have Dimitri with us, remember?” Sylvain.

The prince didn’t even have a chance to respond, as you stepped out from your “hiding” space.

“Your Highness?”

The young blonde seemed to jump out of his skin. Turning towards you, you noticed the rather sheepish look on his face. Your gaze dropping a bit lower, you noticed a small white box in his hands. Shifting your gaze to your right, you noticed Sylvain holding a bundle of flowers. Lily of the valley, perhaps? Tilting your head to the side, you focused your attention back to the prince.

“Is there anything I can help you with, my lord?”

“Ah,” He spoke, seemingly caught off guard, “Well, there’s one thing,”

You waited patiently, or, as patiently as you could, as you knew you were already late to supper. Prince Dimitri took at few steps toward you before extending his arms out, the white box in front of you. You looked down at the box, then back at the prince, who seemed to be grasping for words.

“This is for you,” As if remembering something, he turned around and grabbed the flowers from Sylvain’s hold, “And these as well!”

Cautiously, you took the box and flowers out of the prince’s hands. “May I ask what occasion?”

“As a thank you, for repairing so many lances for me. I know it must be tiring,”

Putting on a smile, you shook your head. “Not at all, Your Highness. It’s my job, after all,”

The prince seemed skeptical about your answer, but smiled regardless. It was the first time you really saw him smile. You had to admit, it was a rather cute sight, with his golden locks covering a portion of his face, hiding his rosy cheeks and his bashful smile. If you stared too long, you felt you may have been stuck in an entranced state, so you bowed your head, signaling the end of the conversation.

“Thank you very much for the gifts. I’ll take my leave.”

With that, the boys all nodded, heading back towards the main area of the castle, as to not cause any trouble. Looking down at the gifts in front of you, you felt confused. You had thought the prince was a brat, like many of the noble’s you had the unfortunate luck of meeting, but seeing him in front of you, with a bright smile and bright red flush, you couldn’t help but think of him as any other kid. It made you feel slightly guilty to just write him off as inept, without really knowing him. It was also troubling that the prince was rather cute, and you couldn’t deny it.

Deciding to not deal with these thoughts, you rushed into your room and quickly changed, throwing the box and flowers on your bed before running out of the room, in hopes to make it to the end of dinner at least.

You barely made it in time, and Lucy scolded you about overworking yourself, but at least you got to eat.

———

Once you had made it back to your room for the night, you walked over towards your bed, staring down at the small white box that seemed to be looking back up at you. Sitting down, you set the box into your lap, cautiously opening it.

Inside sat a small brooch, seemingly made of silver, and engraved in it was a lion. It was small enough to be inconspicuous, lest you get into trouble with the other maids, but big enough for you to see the lion in its full glory. You reached for the brooch, gently brushing against the face of it, a small smile growing on your lips. Glancing towards your side, you noticed a card sticking out of your flowers. Setting the brooch down, you pulled the note from the flowers, bringing it up to your face to read it:

(Y/N),

Thank you for fixing all the weapons I’ve broken since you’ve been here. I’m sure you have other duties to attend to, but thank you for your help.

I also wanted to apologize for the amount of things I’ve broken. I meant to say it earlier, but I couldn’t get the words out.

I hope you enjoy your gift.

Dimitri

Your fingers absentmindedly dragged across each word, only stopping when you crossed the prince’s name. Eyes wide, you thrusted the note down, feeling your cheeks grow hot with embarrassment. You threw the letter on your nightstand, burying yourself within your blanket, hoping to hide away from the growing feeling of, whatever the opposite of contempt may be.

You couldn’t help but think back to the letter, though, and you wondered if you’d been a little harsh in your earlier feelings towards the prince, after all, he was just a kid, such as yourself. Although you’d like it if he didn’t break things as frequently as he did, he was still young, and you couldn’t hold him to such a high standard.

Groaning, you flipped over, your face buried in your pillows. You weren’t having a crisis over the inept but rather sweet prince, no, you just needed some sleep.

There’s no way you’d be thinking about him. Not at all.

———

It was around six in the morning when you felt yourself being shaken. You opened your eyes groggily, trying to shake off your tiredness.

“Wake up, dear, we have to get ready.”

Lucy’s sweet voice was what woke you up. Sitting up, you cocked your head to the side, curiosity overtaking your sleepiness.

“Why?”

Lucy didn’t turn towards you, too occupied with grabbing the cleanest uniform you had from your dresser. “One of the maid’s is sick, so we need someone to cover for breakfast,” she handed you the outfit, a small smile decorating her face, “We figured that since you’ve been training long enough, you should have a go at serving the king and prince for breakfast.”

That certainly got you up. Hopping out of bed, you looked at Lucy with a mortified gaze. She seemed to understand what you were getting at, because she set her hand on your shoulder, a firm but loving gesture. “You’ll be fine, just listen to the head mistress and everything will be okay.”

You hesitantly nodded, still unsure of your abilities but you didn’t want to disappoint her. Once you grabbed your uniform, Lucy gave you one last smile, before leaving you to get dressed. Left to your own devices, you quickly threw on the dress, taking extra time to make sure nothing looked crooked or unkempt. You then pulled your hair back into a bun, making sure that no strand of hair wasn’t unintentionally out of line. It took you about three tries before you were satisfied with the way it looked, and even then you were still worried about getting your hair into their food.

Just as you were about to put on your shoes and run out the door, you noticed something shiny on your nightstand. It was the brooch the prince had given you the day before. Running your fingers over the decorative design, you contemplated on whether or not you should wear it. You would be seeing the prince after all, so maybe you could show your, “forgiveness”, for his habit of breaking weapons.

Before you could go back and forth any further, you heard a knock at the door, followed by Lucy’s soft “Are you ready?” You jumped a bit, startled. Racing out of the room you took the brooch from your nightstand and pinned it above your heart.

You barely remembered to put on your shoes before you hurried to Lucy, who took you to the kitchen, where you were greeted by the staff and then left with the head mistress. She was a kind lady, if not a bit strict. The head mistress, whom you learned to call her “Miss Maria”, had instructed you that you would be helping to set the table and to deliver the food to His Majesty and His Highness when they came down.

Walking over to the table, you began to set the napkins and silverware in the places you’d been taught to put them in. It was practically engraved in your head after how many times you were forced to practice. You were thankful that it was for breakfast, one of the simpler table sets to do.

Once you were finished, you headed back over to Miss Maria to get your next instructions. She had made sure that everything on the table was in order before telling one of the older maids to go and fetch the King and the prince for their breakfast. Glancing back down at you, she nodded her head toward the kitchen. “Go in and get ready to serve, I’ll let you know when to come out.”

Not wanting to disappoint, you walked to the kitchen, politely waving at one of your fellow maid’s to help you with what to grab. Your tray was piled with bread, fruits from various parts of Fodlan, and oats, grown from Faerghus itself. You were rather surprised anything could grow in Faerghus, but you didn’t say anything. Glancing out the small opening, you noticed King Lambert walking in, a warm smile greeting all of the servants. Behind him was Prince Dimitri, who shared a similar smile with his father, although it was much more subtle and, a bit shy.

As soon as they took their seats Miss Maria turned towards you and gave a small nod, signaling you to enter. Holding the tray with both hands, you took a deep breath, before leaving with your partner. You put on a reserved smile, not quite as beaming as the King, nor as small as the Prince’s. Once you reached the table, your companion went first, pouring their drinks for them, then bowing and stepping beside you. You walked over slowly, steadily as you moved to plate their breakfast. First was the King, and although he was an intimidating man, he had a warmth about him that made you feel more at ease. Moving over to the prince, you couldn’t ignore the quiet intake of air that came from him. Glancing up from your duties, you noticed his gaze was on your brooch, perhaps a little shocked that you were actually wearing it. You had to bite the inside of your cheek as to not giggle at the prince’s shocked face.

You bowed as soon as you were finished, walking back to the kitchen with your partner, making sure not to trip and make a fool of yourself on the way back. On your way back you could hear the faint sound of the King and Prince’s conversation, occasionally hearing a booming laugh. When you finally reached the kitchen, you made your way over to the small opening, not necessarily for work, but mainly to look at the royal family. You couldn’t help the faint blush that appeared on your cheeks when you stared at the Prince a little too long. Your companion must’ve noticed, as she walked over to you, a smirk plastered on her face. Clearing her throat, she spoke: “Looking for something?”

You felt your cheeks turn even warmer than you thought possible. Snapping your head towards her, you huffed. “Nothing in particular,”

Your answer only seemed to make her even more smug. “‘Nothing in particular’? Are you sure you weren’t just admiring a certain someone?”

You looked at her as if she’d grown three extra heads.

“Admiring? Who would I even—“

“You were looking at the prince as if you were a lost puppy!” “I was not!” You hissed, wanting to escape this conversation as fast as possible.

The other maid seemed to sense your uncomfortableness, so she relented. But you could still see the hint of a smirk resting on her face for the rest of the morning.

———

You and the rest of the breakfast group had finished cleaning up around ten, allowing you to get back to your duties. For today, your job was to clean the main foyer. That included dusting, mopping, and polishing anything that may need some help. You used to have an extra person to help you, but most of the staff felt you were old enough to handle your tasks on your own. So here you were, all by yourself in a gigantic foyer room that seemed to be mocking you. Shaking your head, you started by dusting off the shelves. You made sure to be extra careful around the precious heirlooms, not wanting to accidentally knock one of them off.

When trying to dust the great, daunting bookshelves, you found yourself to be just a bit short to be able to reach the top. So, in order to compensate for it, you went and grabbed a wooden stool, placing it in front of the shelf. Once you were able to reach the top, you began humming while dusting, hoping that some singing would help to speed up the monotonous process of cleaning.

Unfortunately for you, you hadn’t noticed a certain prince walking up behind you.

“(Y/N), hello!”

A small squeak escaped from your mouth, causing your hand to fly up to your face in a poor attempt to stop the sound. From beneath you, you felt the stool begin to wobble, but before anything could fall, you felt a hand at your back, holding you still as you readjusted yourself. After taking a deep breath, you turned around, only to be face with the prince of Faerghus himself. You felt momentarily stunned for a moment, before collecting yourself enough to give a small bow.

“Your Highness, is there anything I can do for you?”

Prince Dimitri smiled, shaking his head. “No, I just saw you over here and thought I’d say hello,” his face suddenly grew embarrassed, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

You shook your hands frantically, your feather duster swaying back and forth. “It’s alright, I should’ve been more attentive.”

He shook his head, but said nothing. As he walked around the room you couldn’t help but grow curious as to why he was here with you, instead of hanging around his friends.

“Why aren’t you spending time with your friends?” Your eyes widened as soon as the words left your mouth. One day your big mouth was going to get you in big trouble.

You didn’t seem to offend the prince, however, as he just smiled sadly at you. “They’ve gone back to their homes,”

A small “ah” fell from your lips, suddenly out of any commentary. You realized how lonely it must be for the prince, with all of his friends gone. There weren’t many others within the castle borders that were the same age as him, aside from yourself, so he must be rather bored whenever he had free time. You almost saw yourself within him, just a lonely kid who wanted human contact.

Swallowing a knot in your throat that you didn’t know was there in the first place, you spoke, “Well, you’re welcome to stay here while I clean,” you trailed off, looking a little unsure, “Although I don’t know how much company I’ll be.”

You swore that you heard him breathe out a sigh of relief, but you didn’t focus too much on the little details. He mumbled out a “thank you” before sitting down on one of the couches. Deciding that you couldn’t handle both cleaning and knowing that the prince was just staring at you, you chose to just focus all of your energy on your task at hand, letting a comfortable silence fill the room.

Once you had finished with the bookshelves, you moved to grab your polishing rags and went to town on the little trinkets that littered the entire room. The thought of starting up a conversation with the prince had crossed your mind, but you didn’t trust your mouth to not say anything inappropriate, so you kept it shut. He didn’t seem to mind either, instead he just opted to watch you as you were cleaning. While it was unnerving, you had to admit that it was nice to have another person with you while you cleaned. It reminded you of your first few weeks of working at the castle, with Lucy watching and making sure that you were doing everything correctly. It was also nice to know that the prince had no idea how things were supposed to be “properly” cleaned, since he wasn’t trained, therefore lifting another weight off of your shoulders.

When you had moved towards the large paintings on the walls, Prince Dimitri seemed to noticed your prolonged staring, as he stood from his seat, walking towards you.

“That’s my mother,” he stated, an unreadable expression on his face.

You looked towards him, then back up at the painting. She was a rather pretty lady, with her blonde hair cascading down her shoulders, and her brown eyes that exuded warmth. She almost looked as if she were from one of the fairy tales your mother had told you about when you were younger. Although Dimitri had definitely taken his looks from his father, you could see the same warmth within him as his mother.

“She’s beautiful,” You commented, looking towards the prince, who had a sad, distant look on his face.

“She was,” he started, looking away from the painting, “I’m sure she was even more radiant in person.”

You looked over at him, about to ask him what he meant, before it hit you: his mother had died after he was born. Lucy had told you about it before, mostly to tell you to never mention it, as it wasn’t necessarily public knowledge. Only the castle staff knew about the tragic ending that met the Queen. Before you could let out any consoling words, Prince Dimitri put a smile back on his face, though you could tell it was a bit forced.

“What about you?”

You blinked, confused as to what he meant. He seemed to have caught on, as he continued:

“What about your mother?”

A wave of sadness and guilt rushed through you, as if the mention of her had broken down the wall you built up. Looking to the floor for comfort, you answered.

“She died a few years back,”

When you glanced back up, you could practically see the gears turning in the young prince’s head, grasping at straws for a sufficient answer.

“It’s alright. I’ve grown used to living without her presence, so you don’t—“

A warm hand on your shoulder halted your sentence. You were practically dying internally. Was it alright for the prince to be touching you? After all, you were just the staff and he—

“I’m sorry for your loss,” He started, his blue eyes piercing into you, “I lost my mother before I even knew her, and even after that I had my step-mother, so I can’t imagine how painful it was for you.”

You forced yourself to meet his eyes, willing your tears to dry up, after all, you had done a damn good job at keeping them away before. “There’s no need to be sorry, Your Highness. It’s apart of life,” You hoped your voice sounded more confident than you felt.

His hand still stayed on your shoulder, and you were sure that if he moved it now you wouldn’t be able to keep yourself as put-together as you were now. Looking up at the ceiling, you closed your eyes, and took a deep breath in.

Finally, you turned to face him, with his hand gently falling off of your shoulder. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t of taken up all of your time like that. You’re welcome to stay, but I must finish my duties.”

Once you had turned back towards the vases you were to polish, you heard the prince’s footsteps retreating back to the sofa, where you heard a soft thud. There was a little part of you that was happy he stayed with you, mainly so you didn’t have to be alone after that talk of your mom. Even though it had been years since she’d passed, you couldn’t help but freeze up whenever you thought of her. You wondered if she would be proud of you, if she’d be proud of the choices you made in life so far.

The rest of your time with the prince was spent in silence, but you were grateful for the company nonetheless.

———

Ever since your little, heart-to-heart with Prince Dimitri in the foyer, he seemed to make himself a permanent fixture in your life. Whenever he’d see you around the castle, doing whatever you were assigned for the day, he’d make his way over to you, a cheerful smile accompanying a friendly “hello”.

You were always courteous with him, not wanting to seem ungrateful for the company. At first, you were rather quiet, not wanting to somehow offend the prince with your words. Silence would fill the air as he sat next to you in silence, while you tending to whatever you needed to do. If you were off to clean and organize the library, he’d be sitting at a desk nearby. If it was your turn to do laundry, although you weren’t sure how he snuck down, he’d be sitting off to the side, seemingly content with just sitting there.

Eventually you got tired of the silence and began asking questions. With his permission, of course. You didn’t want to be kicked out of the castle from just from asking something stupid. It’d range from serious topics such as “how does your crest grant you such super strength?” or “how long have you been practicing with combat weapons?”, to rather silly questions, such as “can you lift that table?”

He was always happy to answer your questions, even if they were a bit ridiculous. You soon grew more and more comfortable around the prince, realizing that he was just like any other kid you met, minus the status, and, well, god-like strength. All he wanted was someone to keep him company, since he was the only child, and his father was always working. Before you even knew what was happening, you started to consider him as a friend, rather than just a royal brat. When you first realized it, it came as a shock. Shocking that your resentment turned into bashfulness and happiness. Although, you knew that you were starting to feel that way the minute you saw him bringing gifts to your room that one day, you just didn’t want to admit it to yourself.

As the days went on, you started looking forward to seeing Prince Dimitri. You were excited for the conversations the two of you would share, for what topics you might share with one another. Soon days turned into months, and then before you even knew it, the new year had passed, landing you in 1176, a year that you hoped would be as prosperous as the year before for the royal family. You were quite shocked that the prince still went out of his way to speak to you, even if it was just for a few moments.

However, today was different. The two of you had found each other when you had just finished wrapping up laundry duty for the day. As you were just about to go back to your room to relax for a bit, you heard him call for you. When you turned to ask what he needed, he simply whisked you off for some relaxation and chatting. As you two had approached the balcony you both deemed as “your spot”, you could see a few maids you recognized, tending to the gardens. Although you weren’t one for castle gossip, it was rather fun to talk about which of the staff members you two thought were “secretly in love”. These ladies weren’t susceptible to your little game.

“I think that Helene is in love with Lilith,” You said, a sense of conviction ringing through your voice.

It was known around the entire maid staff that Helene had a soft spot for women. She had a habit of staring just a bit too long at the ladies in King Lambert’s court. Helene also had a habit of stumbling her way in a conversation whenever it came to beautiful women.

Below the balcony, the two of you could see a few maids, who were currently tending to the gardens. One of them was obviously Helene, with her bright blue scarf billowing in the wind. The other two, you were currently arguing on who Helene was in love with.

Prince Dimitri shook his head, a smile growing on his face. “I’m afraid you’re wrong, Lady (Y/N),” He’d taken to calling you that, enjoying the slight rush of heat that grew on your face, “Helene is in love with Delilah.”

You gasped, as if he’d said something sacrilegious. Huffing, you pointing towards the maids. “Your Highness, Helene is standing much closer to Lilith, and she keeps looking at her when she thinks she isn’t watching!”

The prince still shook his head, gesturing to the third maid, who was standing next to Lilith. “She’s trying to look at Delilah, Lilith just happens to be standing there.”

You scoffed, trying your best to keep your laughter contained. How many times had you two argued about something so trivial? You couldn’t keep track, but it sure was a fun way to pass the time.

It was rather unfortunate that this peaceful time couldn’t have lasted longer.

#fire emblem three houses #fe3h #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #dimitri x reader #fe dimitri #Dimitri fire emblem #fire emblem dimitri #fire emblem three houses x reader #fire emblem three houses imagines #fire emblem x reader #fe x reader

94 notes · View notes

rnajorarcana · 4 years

Photo

❛ can’t tell if i’m really here , i think i’m leaving this body - bye - ye - ye - ye - ye !

oliver oli d’angelo . 23 . pan . he/they . angel boy . ( bullying , toxic relationships )

✧ ˖ * ° ><> ╱ ross lynch, genderfluid, he/they — look who’s fresh from the ferry, aren’t you OLIVER “ OLI " D'ANGELO ? your eroda brochure says you’re TWENTY - THREE and that you’re currently residing in MARMOTON. your favourite tourist attraction to hang around is SEA ROCK BREWERY, and the locals around these ports would describe you as SILVER TONGUED & CLEVER, RETICENT & INSECURE. your resting fish face really gives off SHADES OF BLUE REFLECTING THE SEAS & SKIES , TATTOO INK MIXED WITH GLITTER , THE MAGIC IN HIS VEINS & THE DIAMONDS IN HIS BONES and i’m a big fan of the DECK OF TAROT CARDS you seem to always be attached to. well, if you see the minister this morning; make sure you head on home as quick as possible, you never know what bad luck he could bring.

i . past

there is a saying that the amount of kind people in the world is diminishing ; and given exactly what you’ve been through , my dear boy ?? you could attest to that . kind people are forged in fire & have blood leaking from their mouths , given bruised knuckles and black eyes - yet here you are .

eroda born you grow up shy & quiet , gentle & sensitive - the type of kid that is easy to befriend if you talk to him but is equally as easy to shove into a locker . you are sketchpads & soft smiles but bruised cheeks & visits to the principal’s office and you’re told boys will be boys so there isn’t much the school boards can do about your constant harassment . you’re different than them because you don’t fit into their mold ; girls like you because you don’t pull their hair or make fun of them for being girls and that makes the other ones jealous , further worsening the treatment .

all you have is you , taking solace in the two things you know - artwork & video games . you imagine yourself as a gallant hero - like the one in the zelda games - riding alone but still kind & brave , and these drawings you make consist of both the characters from your comfort and yourself as such . you bury yourself in your nintendo ds , carrying it everywhere , and maybe one day you’ll be the link to a story where there’s a courageous hero needed and you can fill that slot . of course , your interests only contribute to the fact you’re seen as high school’s punching bag . you take it .

but things get different the one day you get pushed to the ground - because high school’s like that - and your beloved drawings get torn , your ds held from your grasp like a toy held from a jumping dog . and oli d’angelo , the ‘ angel boy ’ , with red lips & cherub cheeks & puppy eyes , decides he’s had enough and clocks his assailant back . principal’s office visit again , you’re suspended , but your darling mother ( she’s all you have ; your father strolled out the door before you could know him & the woman is a bit broken from hoping he could come back after all these years ) rubs your back , takes you out for ice cream , and tells you that you did the right thing .

doesn’t feel like it , since your limits were simply pushed .

graduation , art school , new horizons . oliver d’angelo meets trevor frost , and they instantly click , and with words exchanged across library tables and eventually kisses behind bookshelves , a budding romance is formed . he’s rich ; he even offers to pay for your tuition , but you fall in love with him because he looks at you like you are everything , but you don’t realize the wool pulled over your eyes - because you’re an angel who’s naive & innocent and he’s the monster that berates you & digs at you with even the most syrupy words , then lulls you into coming back . you spend your nights crying thinking you are to blame for things he’s done to you - finding he has more bedmates than just yourself , being accused of things that aren’t your fault or your doing . . . you are broken down , piece by piece , and once more . . . there’s a day where you can no longer take it .

screaming , hellfire , a broken angel finally breaks free of his chains and runs away , even though the monster tried to clip his wings . you pack up your things and leave , and you realize that your financial support is gone , but you need to get out .

. . . this life , it’s tested your kindness & your patience - you’ve been tossed through the wringer endlessly , and as you leave his apartment , you make a resolution that you can no longer allow yourself to be hurt . you cannot be vulnerable .

you are now oli , and oli shows up to his high school reunion with a new air of confidence . obnoxious confidence , like a party boy - but he retains his charm , words of silver leaking from his lips and charisma among a crowd enough to bring in even those who treated him unkindly in the years prior . he becomes the LIFE OF THE PARTY , but he doesn’t actually want to be there . this new persona - this arrogance , this annoying voice , this being who participates in every vice possible . . . he is nothing like the sweet & gentle boy that lies underneath . but he’s a mask , a suit of armor that you carry - so you can numb yourself over the loneliness & hurt that’s plagued you over the years .

new horizons , take two . you complete a tattoo artist apprenticeship , get your license - ship yourself off to another chapter of your life that hopefully means things will change . you’re black clothes & sunglasses & tarot cards & tattoos , silver tongues and smiles that only signal mischief . long conversations and words flying a mile a minute because your mouth is your greatest weapon . the good thing is nobody here knows you . . . even though maybe , you’d want them to - but if you do , you run the risk of getting hurt again .

oliver gets hurt , but oli is a courageous hero ( maybe ) that can go up against anything needed . . . you can be oli for now , even though that hurts just as much .

ii . present

SO OLI . . . god this is my son . this is my oc i’ve written forever and god do i love him .

so !! he’s an artist , loves to draw , paint , etc , now employed as a tattoo artist ! and . . . he’s also . got a lot of bad habits since he’s got a party boy facade to keep up and tries to make himself into someone else since , who he actually is , he’s scared to be in fear of getting hurt again .

on the inside , he’s sweet and gentle and introvereted - he doesn’t like big social gatherings and would much rather vibe on his own or with a few close friends ( if he had friends ) than anything else . but he’s afraid , again , of being himself or being vulnerable towards anyone else because he’s seen as an easy target , and his feelings are easy to manipulate . . .

so on the outside , he’s much different . he’s fucking annoying , to start - he’s a talker , always has something to say , and he’s very good at keeping a conversation . he’s a charmer , and paired with his big brown eyes and his award winning smile he can talk a snake out of its basket . but he also , again , maybe says too much and doesn’t have any fear or realization of consequences , and indulges himself in things like alcohol , sleeping around , loud parties , etc . because that’s the persona that keeps him guarded . and he’s gotten used to it , but he doesn’t like that this is what he’s known for . he wants people to get to know him for him but . . . this is his only option , since if he lets people inside , he gets hurt . so he just has to deal .

he’s that person that talks so much , you think he’s oversharing when in ACTUALITY he’s telling you nothing of importance . oli is fucking smart & intelligent and he knows how to read a room , how to pick his words - all survival techniques he’s learned from navigating the world around him . he’s . . . an expert at this social stuff , even tho tbh he much rather wouldn’t be .

some ppl want to kiss him some ppl want to kick him it be like that sometimes

he’s still nice !! he’s very nice - but maybe a bit more crass and unafraid to say shit that you wouldn’t expect anyone else to say .

but also also it’s like i said before - he is very into artwork and video games , the latter especially being his huge comfort . first is his passion , second is his comfort . oli loves games and he’s lowkey nerdy as hell , even though he’s trying to conceal some parts of himself THAT always bleeds through in some shape or form .

he’s also extremely into witchcraft , and that’s a major part of his character as well . he likes hanging at the brewery because it’s easy to get people who want tarot readings from him , and he always keeps a sigil or a crystal or something on his person . always has a water bottle of witch tea , always enchants his clothes or items , cleans his workspace at the tat parlor he works at with moonwater - that stuff . he’s known as two things - the angel boy or the magic boy .

o also he’s genderfluid so rly any titles are valid for him , comfy with anything . diagnosed bipolar ii & adhd bc i’m a bitch that loves to project .

HE’S . . . HE’S A GOOD BOY . he’s just . afraid to show that he’s a good boy . he’s got a heart of gold but he’s scared that if he shows it someone else is gonna use him again .

ANYWAYS !! like this n i , light , the bastard , will message u for plots !!

#vgs r his comfort hence the zelda influence graphique #eroda.intro #░ ★ abt . ❛ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ғɪɴᴅ ᴀ ᴡᴀʏ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀsᴇʟғ sᴏᴍᴇᴅᴀʏ #bullying tw #toxic relationship tw #neglect mention #alcohol mention #i think . i got everything .#HAUSHUSHUS this is so bad im so sorry

10 notes · View notes

londonfog-chan · 4 years

Text

Abbacchi x Reader: Sudoh Buck AU

The coffee shop Abbacchio THIRST everyone keeps losing their collective shit over on AO3 and admittedly the chapter where I decided I was one thirsty ass bitch. All characters aged up.

...

"Ok, fucking Darth Vader over here, whoever has their headset on turn it the fuck off! Sounds like you're doing something gross!"

Darth Vader is an understatement. Whenever someone leaves their headset on and does any task, your ears are assaulted with what sounds like some mouth breather huffing directly into your ear canal.

Not even two shifts into Passione and you're already showing your coworkers that you have the capacity to look innocent, but have the mouth of a sailor. In a fitting turn of events you've been put on customer support, free to fuck off wherever you wish and cuss all you want on the headset. No one at your store appreciates your humor, in fact any time you make a joke they conveniently pretend they don't hear you or they grimace until the situation becomes awkward and you have to shut your mouth before you make an even bigger ass of yourself. Here at this location, the boys eat it up with a spoon. They can't get enough of your jokes, encouraging you whenever they force a headset on your head the minute you clock in. Even the new girl Trish, a pretty thing with dyed pink hair and a smile that goes for miles, joins in on the never ending train of dirty jokes, profanities, and general riff raff that makes Bruno bitch at everyone involved like a single mother.

But at the moment, the breathing most certainly does not belong to Bruno. Usually he's the one who always casually reminds people when they leave their headsets on.

"Mista!" you growl, "Turn it off or breathe less!"

"It's not me." he insists, the beep of the warming oven being cut off as he mutes himself.

"Narancia, I love you but I don't need to hear what it's like for you to get laid!"

"Negative babe~... I'm on drive bar." Narancia replies.

"Trish?"

"Not me hunty." she answers, and the sound of the wind in her headset confirms this.

"Fugo, I swear to fuck-..."

"It's me. Fugo doesn't have a headset."

Immediately you press on the sprayer head a little too hard and the back splash soaks the entire front of your apron and your uniform shirt. The voice you're greeted with on the headset is totally foreign, and unmistakably sexy. A low hum, almost like Bruno's baritone, and much like the rest of the crew you've come to love it's colored with the slightest hue of an accent that makes your knees start to knock together. Admittedly you're bad with voices and just as worse with names. You can't put a face to this voice no matter how hard you try, and it's no wonder considering that out of all the stores in the district, Passione has more employees than any of them, including H. Green and S. Platinum locations which are always overstaffed because of the sheer amount of business compared to the meager crowds you get at Ogre Street.

But... With that voice... if you were a customer you'd fucking live at that drive thru just to hear him read back your order to you.

"Woah..." you're nearly moaning the words "I'm wet in more ways than one, who the fuck is this?"

"It's Leone." he replies, voice low and sultry, "Sorry about that, I was eating a bagel."

Leone... who the fuck is Leone? Surely he has to be one of the other baristas whose names you never bothered to learn... doesn't really matter to you when you have constant attention of the store's man candy. But suddenly this is a whole new person with the sexiest voice you've ever heard giving you attention like everyone else. For very obvious reasons, this piques your interest.

"I don't recognize your voice." you said, putting down the whisk you were rinsing. "What's your last name?"

"Abbacchio." he responds. "We haven't met face to face yet, but I've seen you before. You're the beanie from Ogre Street right? It's nice to finally talk to you. I think you're really pretty."

... Oh sweet baby Jesus why aren't you taking the wheel yet!?

"Aww, and aren't you just a sweetheart?" you murmur, leaning over the sink as your voice drops to a near whisper. "Wait... Aren't you the one with the pretty handwriting in the book?"

His chuckle makes you honest to god swoon, and even Bruno peeks his head in to check on you when you make that kind of a noise.

"Yes, that's me." he confirms. "And you're the one with the great customer service. I haven't gotten a chance to talk to you, but I've been listening for a while. I really like your attitude. You're much more fun than your coworkers."

“Really?" you ask, taking up more dirty dishes, "Big shocker there, I'm surprised no one at this store is drooling over Ogre Street's heartthrob one miss Kimmy."

"Meh. I think the consensus is that you're the favorite barista out of everyone from your store if we're being honest."

That's Narancia, and even Abbacchio agrees with the rest of the crew. They all start complimenting you, how you never ask stupid questions, you try to help out any way you can. They honestly can't go two minutes without berating the other coworkers. It's all things you'd normally do to try and be helpful, but you're not sure exactly why it's so endearing to all of them. You're just another barista? It's never mattered to anyone this much before. Especially when you always come home in tears at your other location. It must be that you're not used to receiving compliments in such abundance.

"Agreed." reaffirms Abbacchio. "You're really agreeable, and I like your jokes. Your laugh is really sexy."

"Well aren't you a flatterer." you smile, putting the dishes to soak in the sani solution before throwing them for another go in the dish washer. "But I like having my ego stroked. Tell me more about how I'm wonderful, Abbacchio."

You can tell he's about to reply, until you hear the mournful "ding" from the drive thru sensors indicate that someone wants to order. You hear him tell you "hold that thought" before he turns his charms the customer.

"Hello there..." he purrs into the headset, "Welcome to Sudoh Buck, what can I get started for you today?"

The customer murmurs an "oh wow" before she remembers why she came here in the first place.

"Um yes hi can I please get a..."

It doesn't take much for you to zone out and return to your task. As soon as you finish up this set of dishes, you'll be able to take your last ten before you go home for the day. Customer Support is one of those coveted positions because you have little to no interactions with customers at a busy store. Bruno sets you to work with a task list, you work to the limit on the timer on your apron. Whenever it goes off, you have to drop what you're doing and come back to front to brew coffee. If anyone needs anything, like if Mista runs out of warming bags or Narancia needs more cups or milk, all they have to do is press the button on the headset and set you forth to do their bidding. Admittedly, you don't find yourself going straight home anymore. Even your brother, stoic and nonchalant, makes comments about it whenever you come home an hour or two later than the time you're supposed to. Mom, well, she's a worrier, and thinks you're getting up to no good shenanigans. But let's be real, when you live in the house you live in any trysts with potential suitors goes out the window. Your brother is in college and his schedule is unpredictable, and your mom is a homemaker.

The minute Abbacchio tells the flustered woman to pull up to the window, he returns to shower you with compliments over the headset, calling you the prettiest thing he's ever seen to put on an apron, how cute your angry face looks when you're totally focused on bar, even busting out some cutesy nicknames that make you squirm as you try to finish up your dishes. Strangely enough, everyone else is silent on the headset, letting you and Abbacchio get acquainted with one another to your heart's content, the lull in the conversation only happening when a customer pulls up. Eventually, like all good things, the compliments come to an end and the conversation turns to other topics.

"So you said you live with your mom?" Abbacchio asks after taking an order of five different fraps. You can hear Narancia cussing softly as he has to make each individual drink.

"Yeah, my mom and my big brother." you affirm. "It's the most I can afford in this town. Everything's so goddamn expensive, I couldn't even afford to make the first and last month's rent on the cheapest place in town, and my brother can't move in with me yet since he's doing school full time. But enough about me, what about you?"

"Mm? What about me?" he asks, flirt evident in his voice.

"Which country do I have to thank for that blessed ass accent you have?"

"That's Italy." he laughs. "I've been with the company for over six years, I started out at the reserve roastery in Milan and came here when Buccellati offered me a job. I came on a work visa, and now you can't get rid of me. I'm one of your shift supervisors."

"Well, temp supervisor anyway." you respond rather sadly. "It's too bad this store hadn't been opened before I got hired. Otherwise I would have loved to start here."

"I still think you should transfer." interjects Trish. "No one likes Ogre Street anyways."

"I... I'd have to think about it."

"What's there to think about anyway?" Abbacchio asks, and you stop scrubbing the chocolate pump for a minute. "If you transfer here, I'd get to talk to you every single day. Tips are shit but you can move up if you'd like."

"And the best part is if you transfer here, we can see your huge ass every time you bend over." Mista chimes in.

"MISTA! WE ARE AT WORK!" Bruno sounds exasperated over the headset.

"Oh yeah, my bad boss. I mean to say we can see your venti ass every time you bend over."

Everyone loses their shit for a minute to laugh as Bruno begins to berate the very bad and naughty warming man off headset. Before he mutes, you can hear him threaten disciplinary action, and you can't stop howling in the back. Nearly falling over just thinking about it.

"So how about it cuteness?" Abbacchio asks, and his voice is so warm and inviting you can't help but smile. "Think it's worth us stealing you away to stay here?"

"Yeah... I dunno. Like I said, I'd have to think about it. Besides, I think working here would just give my mommy an excuse to show up more often..."

A shrill sound assaults your ears, the timer, and you sigh.

"Now the age old question..." you wonder aloud, "What the fuck did I brew last?"

"I know we've been selling a lot of medium and dark." Abbacchio replies. "And it's already ten thirty, just cut the blonde and do full batches. Narancia can do pour overs."

"Ah yes," you can hear the mischief in Narancia's voice. "My special americano pour overs."

"You know Narancia, one of these days corporate is gonna walk in and see all the shit you do and your ass is going to get canned." you respond, laughing as you wash your hands in the employee sink before going back out to front.

"Fuck it." he laughs. "It won't bother me none, Buccellati can take care of me with all that Mama Daddy money he's got."

"Oh hey, cara mia, when you come up to front, come to drive. I've got something for you."

That was Abbacchio, and for a hot minute you're almost nervous, like a first date, at the prospect of seeing him face to face.

"Oh yeah? And what would that be?"

"Well," you hear the rustle of the bag, "It's cat shaped, and really cute, like a certain barista I know..."

"OOOOOOOOH DADDY!" you squeal. "You've just made me the happiest girl on earth!"

He's found your weakness. The quickest way for any man to get to your heart is to dangle some motherfucking food in your face, no lie. Even your brother has commented on more than one occasion that if anyone wanted to take you all they had to do was dangle a fucking cupcake in your face and you were toast. And it doesn't help that you called your mom squealing about the cute little kitty shaped cake pops they had out for the season.

“Well? What are you waiting for? Come and get this and we can meet in person."

Ever the one to be lured in with the prospect of free food, you run your ass to the front, nearly bowling over Mista as you skid to a halt at the nook where the drive thru window is located. To your ever lasting shock, you come face to face with the last person you'd ever expect to be flirting with you so boldly.

"Holy shit..." you breathe. "Abbacchio?"

It's the dude who gang faced you the first day you came in, and ironically the one who got fed up with your friend's bar time. Silver hair pulled into a pony tail, glistening purple lips, snatched makeup that's too perfect for a barista... All put together in a black apron. His glare never leaves his face, but maybe... Just maybe, he's like your brother and just has a very bad case of resting bitch face. Because you get a little hopeful when he sees you and his lipstick mouth smiles, beckoning you over with a warming bag in his hand. When Abbacchio reaches in, he pulls out the very treat you've been craving all day since you've seen it. This is the best part of the job. Sometimes some customers forget they get food and never come back, and it just sits there for hours until someone has to throw it away, or they'll change their mind last minute about the food, or worse yet someone on warming (Mista) will fuck up an order and get the wrong sandwich. If it's a sandwich, nine times out of ten you have to toss it, but if it's a sweet treat it's usually fair game for anyone to enjoy since it will just go in the trash. You love to have the mistake foods, sometimes you'll take them to your brother at the college, or more often than not you'll take them home to share with your mother. She loves sweets, and working for a coffee chain she normally can't afford to frequent is such a rare treat that you love to spoil her.

"Oh my god!" you coo, "Is that a kitty cat cake poop just for me??"

"Just for you." he chuckles. "Why do you call it that anyway?"

"I dunno. For some reason the feral part of my brain activates whenever I see words and I just like to play around with them and mutter weird things to myself. I tried telling it to my SM at Ogre Street and he told me I better not call it that, otherwise I might slip and call it a cock pop or something."

He can't help the smile that spreads over his face, and he suddenly gets a very naughty glint in his eye as he twirls the cake pop in your direction.

"So?" he asks. "You made such a big to do about being friendly on the headset. Be a good girl and take a bite of the treat I worked so hard to get for you. Come on, take a big nom nom out of this cock pop~."

You hope and pray that by some stroke of bad luck that no one you know outside of work just heard that. Not one to be shown up when it comes to flirting, you don't miss a beat as you step forward. With a look in your face that would make your mother faint if she knew how filthy you were being, you waste no time in licking a stripe slowly up the cake pop before taking a fat ass bite out of the head. Abbacchio's grin could split his entire face in half, and even more so when you use your teeth to pull the pop stick out of his hand.

"Hey... hunty, question?" it's Trish interrupting the positively predatory stares you and Abbacchio are giving each other. She's been listening in this whole time.

"Yes Trisha my love?" you respond, not taking your eyes off Abbacchio.

"Just one question... Can you eat pussy like that?"

A cacophony of screams and your screech of "NASTY WOMAN" makes Trish lose her shit outside, and Bruno swears up and down from the back office that he's going to write up the next person who says something filthy over headset during his shifts.

#jojo’s bizzare adventure vento aureo #jojo’s bizzare adventure #leone abbacchio x reader #leone abbacchio #coffee shop au #reader instertjojo’s bizarre adventure reader insert

113 notes · View notes

evilrubberducke · 4 years

Text

IzuMina week Day 1- To Save an Emerald

Yeah, I’m a day late on this one. I blame the pandemic. On the plus side, this means you’re getting a double update from me today.

This is based on the day 1 prompt “Protection”

On a side note, I now have an actual EvilMuffinLord blog here on Tumblr. If you follow me for Mina content, you might want to switch your follow over to there. I’ll keep posting Mina stuff on this blog for the rest of IzuMina week, but after that I’ll switch over to the new one, and leave this for other fandoms/personal blogging.

Read it on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23298604

Or on FF.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13530836/1/IzuMina-Week-2020

Mina stood in the center of her dorm room, decked out in her pajamas with her phone in hand, contemplating making the worst decision of her life. The number was already punched in, staring back at her from the screen as if to taunt her into going through with it. All she had to do was make the call.

She honestly couldn’t believe the circumstances that had brought her to this point. They were so outlandish that if she had read them in a book, she would have dismissed it immediately for being too unrealistic.

Just a few short months ago she had rocked up to UA, flushed with victory from completing the entrance exam. She’d done an absolutely awesome job, placing just high enough to land her in class 1A. The experience had been absolutely hellish, and she had spent the week afterward hoping against hope that her performance had been enough to sneak by.

Being able to parade her acceptance letter around had been entirely worth it though. No one could believe what an excellent job she had done in getting in, and she’d been insufferable in her victory for nearly a week afterwards. Her father and brother had deserved it too, the doubters.

Then her first actual day at UA had arrived, and hit Mina like a ton of bricks. It was an experience unlike any she had been through before. She had looked up photos and videos of the school beforehand, but it was so much different to actually stand on its grounds and look up at the towering main building. Sure, she’d seen it during the entrance exam, but she’d been far too preoccupied at the time to really take in the spectacle. Now she had the time to really be wowed, and she was taking full advantage.

The grounds were absolutely immaculate, the shrubbery perfectly trimmed and not a trace of trash to be seen anywhere. That was probably a side benefit of UA having a budget the size of a small prefecture. They could throw around money for a bit of spectacle.

That same spectacle had led to her meeting Izuku just before class had begun. She’d been in the midst of checking out a collage of famous UA alumni battling equally notorious villains, searching for anyone she knew, when he had crashed into her and sent them both sprawling.

Izuku had, predictably, apologized profusely for his mistake and offered to do anything to make it up to her. Mina had tried to brush it off as a simple mistake, but he had been so insistent that she had eventually agreed to let him buy her a drink. If he hadn’t been so awkward and oblivious about the whole affair, she might have thought he had engineered the whole encounter in order to hit on her.

To her surprise, she’d actually enjoyed talking to him while they sipped on their drinks. Once he had gotten over his initial awkwardness, he’d proven to be incredibly enthusiastic about getting into UA and training to be a hero. Mina had been delighted to learn that he was in the same class as her, giving her a head start on getting to know the students she’d be training with. He’d practically keeled over when she had offered to be his friend and exchange numbers, which had actually made her giggle a little bit. He reminded her of a puppy, so eager to please that he was tripping over himself as he did so.

The rest of the day hadn’t gone quite so well. Aizawa was exactly the kind of hardass that Mina hated, lording his power over the class for shits and giggles. She’d placed high enough that she didn’t have to worry about getting eliminated, but watching him berate the lower scoring students had really ground her gears.

Especially when it came to Izuku. It was obvious to everyone that he was trying his best, but Aizawa seemed to have latched onto him in particular as a target. It was hard for Mina to keep up a smile as she watched him spiral lower and lower throughout the day.

Thankfully, he’d managed to stick it out in the end, and Aizawa had proved himself to be a hypocritical ass, calling himself a hero while lying and berating his students. Mina had to admit, seeing Izuku standing there with a broken finger while he smiled at Aizawa, flushed with victory had been awesome. She’d even cheered a bit, though not so loudly that she stood out from the crowd.

That moment of happiness for the boy, and the subsequent relief that he was staying in the class had stayed with her for the rest of the day, refusing to leave her alone. It was unlike her to get so attached so quickly to a person. Sure, she’d had friends in the past, and she had her family, but those relationships hadn’t felt quite like this. Maybe it was because Midoriya was so open and honest that she couldn’t imagine him having an ulterior motive in the slightest, and that made it all the easier to connect.

She’d made a few more friends in their class after that, commiserating with the rest of the girls over having to deal with Mineta’s perverse actions and cracking jokes with Kaminari, but none of them had come as easily as the first.

And then the day of the USJ incident had come, and Mina had been tested. She couldn’t hear what had been said in the main plaza, but she had been able to watch as Izuku came close to death at the hands of the Nomu, only to be saved at the last moment by All Might. As she watched the blond hero smash his way through the miscellaneous villains in an instant, Mina had noticed something. Before All Might’s arrival, she had taken a single step forward, towards the plaza. That had shocked her on a level she couldn’t even begin to describe. Her urge to protect the precious green boy had been so overwhelming that she had been willing to confront the League over it.

She couldn’t reconcile it. She’d never been like this before. She’d met plenty of sweet, friendly people over the years, and none of them had made her feel so fiercely protective, so possessive.

Try as she might to quiet them, Mina’s feelings had only grown stronger as time had gone on. She’d rooted for him in the sports festival, actually biting her nails during his battle with Todoroki, and when he had been injured during the attack on Hosu, she had rushed to his hospital room to check on him.

It had earned her some funny looks, but being able to see that he was safe had been an incredible weight off of her chest. Sure, he was laid up in a hospital bed, covered with bandages, but injuries could always be fixed. His life, on the other hand, couldn’t be repaired.

It was then, staring at Izuku in his hospital bed, costume torn to shreds and stained with blood, that Mina knew this went beyond a simple friendship, or even just protective instincts. She cared for him, in a way that she hadn’t realized she was capable of. And she was going to protect him, no matter what it took.

She’d pitched it as a mutual exchange. He would help her study for the end of term exams, and in exchange she would help him expand his fighting style with some more varied moves. A friendly exchange. He leapt at the chance to be a better hero, and to get to know her better.

She’d been so caught up in celebrating the success of her own clever idea that she completely missed the blush that dusted his cheeks as he said the last part.

The two months before their final exams flew by faster than she would have thought possible. But then maybe that was because she had something to look forward to after school now, instead of just lessons and training. She had someone she cared about, someone she trusted, someone she could talk to about all the things she had never dared speak, not even to herself.

She’d told him about feeling helpless and frustrated about the world around her, the way the bullies always seemed to win no matter if their victims stood up for themselves or not. She told him about trying to stand up to the bullies herself, only to be punished by the teachers for being a disruption. She even told him about her desire to change things, to make a better system where no child would have to suffer for being born weak.

Maybe she had wanted to share all of that, to let the poison she had been carrying for so long out, or maybe she just wanted to ease her sense of guilt for Izuku’s injuries.

In exchange, he had told her about his childhood, about being one of the children crushed by the system. About watching his tormentor be praised for his skill and strength while Izuku was relegated to the class laughing stock. He told her about being labeled as Quirkless, since his Quirk had taken so long to come in.

Mina noticed that he still slipped up sometimes and called himself Quirkless when he wasn’t paying close attention to his words, a fact that ripped at her heart. She couldn’t imagine being labeled like that for so long, or how he still had the strength to stand up after it all, to keep going, to keep having faith in the heroes who by all rights had failed him.

She knew he didn’t tell her everything, but she couldn’t really blame him either. After all, she had her own secrets, though they were getting harder to keep by the day.

She hadn’t bothered to hide her cheers during the final exams. Why should she? The entire class knew that they were friends at this point, though Hagakure liked to tease Mina about how much time she spent with Izuku. She didn’t think her cheers actually did anything, considering the viewing room was at least a mile from the testing site, but it still felt right to her. And in the end, Izuku had come out victorious, despite Bakugou doing his best to bring them both down.

And then Mina didn’t have any more time. Summer break was upon them, and their forthcoming training camp as well. She wasn’t supposed to go along, she was supposed to remain at UA taking makeup exams with the rest of the ‘dunce squad’. But Aizawa had pulled another of his ‘logical ruses’ and taken them all by surprise.

For Mina, however, it was more than a surprise. It was a source of worry that gnawed at her throughout the next day and into the weekend as their class prepared for the trip with a visit to the shopping mall. A visit that turned into an incident when Tomura turned up to threaten Izuku.

Mina had been paralyzed when she saw the hooded figure standing next to Izuku, hand around her friend’s (could she even still call him a friend?) throat. Her instincts had warred with her logical mind, fighting for dominance.

And yet again, her heart had won out. She had taken a single step towards ruin before she had even realized what she was doing. There hadn’t been an opportunity for a second step, though, before Tomura had walked away, leaving Izuku shaken but unharmed.

She had thought long and hard about what that step had meant that night. What it meant for her, what it meant for Izuku, for her class, for her teachers, for her family, for her future. And she had come to one, inescapable conclusion.

She wanted to stay at UA, to grow stronger along with the people who had become her friends. She wanted to make the world a better place, not by tearing down the system but by exemplifying what a hero should be. She wanted to stand in the light with everyone she cared about.

And she wanted to be able to tell Izuku about the feelings that she could no longer deny.

So Mina lifted her phone to her ear, and pressed the button that would forever change her world.

“This is Principal Nedzu,” a crisp voice answered after only a single ring, “To what do I owe the pleasure of this late night call, Miss Ashido?”

She looked to the photo that sat on her desk, slightly askew in its frame from when she had taken it out to stare at it earlier that evening. She and Izuku were smiling broadly, arms around each other’s shoulders as they celebrated Izuku perfecting his Full Cowling for battle. It was a reminder of how far they had come, and how far they still had left to go.

The League was a threat to him for as long as they existed, and Mina could no longer accept that. She had to take a stand, and do what she knew was right. For her classmates, for herself, and for Izuku.

“Because my birth name was Ashido. But for years, my name has been Mina Shiguraki, and I am a spy for the League of Villains.”

#izumina #midoriya izuku #mina ashido #izumina week 2020 #day one #protection #dekumina #minadeku

45 notes · View notes

coffeecomicsgalore · 4 years

Text

For the Love of a Chat

oops.

runs away from the potential rock throwing

Ao3

Chapter 21 – Kiss

When Marinette woke up that morning, she never thought that she would wake up from a peaceful sleep to find a sweet note lying beside her after her leather-clad partner left her bedroom bound for home.

She never thought that she would be minding her own business while sketching at the park when a curious kitty casually walked up to her and watch her make a flower crown and donned it on his head.

She never would have believed in a million years that finally confessing one of the world’s largest secrets (to her at least) about being in love with Adrien Agreste to Chat Noir would result in him showing her how she should be loved by taking her out on the town.

And she never thought that him asking her out on this amazing date would have her standing in front of him, the electricity flowing strongly between them as the romantic firework display colored the dark sky.

But yet here she was, looking into his glossy green eyes, a sense of desire and unspoken promises communicating silently between them.

The electric current was like a magnet bringing themselves closer to the brink. They inched closer and closer until the space between them practically vanished, their breaths intermingling as both their eyes fluttered closed.

Their hearts were beating erratically and could be felt against their rib cages. Chat’s tail curled around Marinette’s waist to keep her close to him and the feeling of extra security made her feel protected and loved. Their grips tightened as the anticipation of a kiss was close to breaking them.

That was until they heard the shrill cry of a woman who was being playfully chased by her date in the street that they realized how close they really were. Blush tinged their cheeks as the intimate moment was ambushed, bringing them right back to the present. But their awkwardness only increased when the sounds of cameras clicking near them caused them both to look up to the sound, Chat doing so a bit quicker than she ever could, burying Marinette’s head back towards his chest to keep her face hidden from their view.

“Oh my god.” She muttered bashfully, placing both her hands against the side of her face to help further hide her identity. “Are they seriously-?”

“Yup.” He quickly stated and gave the small crowd an angry scowl. Some of the patrons looked away as they felt embarrassed for getting caught, while others took one last photo before walking away without another word.

Chat looked around to see if he could make a quick getaway, anger still buried beneath his chest at the thought of how stupid he was for taking her out into the open.

He paled as a sudden thought crossed his mind. If any of the photos actually showed Marinette’s face, Hawkmoth may use her or her family as a way to give up his Miraculous. He promised Ladybug that he would protect Marinette from this going too far.

And he promised Marinette that he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her.

Yet here he was, unable to control the swell of his heart as the love for her grew to an exaggerated amount, almost kissing her out in the public where people could take pictures and post it all over the internet.

He was a fool to think that he could have a relationship with her as his superhero self. He should have tried harder to pursue a relationship with Marinette as Adrien. And if he knew any better - since his stupid oblivious self obviously didn’t - he wouldn’t even have had to try hard enough for a romantic relationship to develop at all between the two.

Marinette could feel Chat’s tightened embrace around her shoulders tense up further. He tried to peer up through splayed fingers to see what had happened and she noticed the stare that seemed to go on for miles.

“Chat?” She said slowly, not wanting to scare him out of his thoughts. When he didn’t answer, she reached up to touch his cheek and called out to him once again.

“Hey Chat? Are you okay?”

Chat looked down with such sadness in his eyes. There were unshed tears that wanted to fall, but he brushed it away before Marinette could see.

“Chat?” Marinette called out, alarmed. “Why are you crying?”

Or so he thought.

“I’m okay princess. Just trying to find a way out of here.”

Marinette looked around through her fingers again and noticed that there was no one lingering after the initial photos were taken.

She bit her lip. She knew he was hiding something. She knew that within his pretty, punny exterior hid a sad boy who was full of fears. She looked back up and rubbed her thumb against his cheek.

“Hey,” she whispered sincerely coaxing him to look right back into her eyes. “Why don’t we go back to my balcony. I think a cup of hot cocoa and kitty scratches are in order.”

Chat closed his eyes and nodded.

----

Marinette handed Chat a cup of hot cocoa which he gratefully accepted with a lopsided smile. She placed her mug on the ground as she kneeled in front of him and reached out to hold onto his free hand and push as much warmth and love as she could from her touch.

“Hey. I’m here if you want to talk. You know that, right?” He looked up to her sadly but then sighed and glanced back down to his cup.

“It’s just me, Chat. We tell each other almost everything. I won’t judge or anything. I promise you. But... you were so happy tonight. What happened?”

Chat let out another strangled sigh as he looked away from her.

Marinette got up from her spot and sat beside him on the chaise, wrapping a tender arm around his shoulders while the other was brought up to pet his hair. He leaned into her touch, nuzzling into her neck as a purr started to form from the comforting contact.

“I-” he started, his voice shaky with fear of losing their friendship. It was the last thing he wanted.

“Shh.” She cooed, continuing her ministrations behind his ears.

“I put you in danger.” He finally spoke out, wincing at his words. “I could have potentially put you in danger.”

She stopped for a moment before continuing the scratches. “What do you mean?”

“I brought you out in public to show you how you should be treated, but I didn’t-” he let out a weighted breath, “people took pictures of us! If they took photos of us dancing- of us almost....” he stopped, gathered himself and tried again, “Hawkmoth might come after you to get to me.”

She stilled. He was right and she was foolish to get caught up in her emotions.

“I promised Ladybug I would protect you.” The tears started running down his cheeks. “I promised you I would protect you. I failed you, Marinette. I’m sorry.”

Marinette swallowed thickly. Her heart shattered into a million pieces as she saw the helplessness of her partner before her.

Yet the love she had for him only continued to grow.

Marinette pulled herself away from him and she could see that his eyes were tightly closed. Whether it was to stop the flow of tears or to avoid gazing into her eyes, she would never know. But she couldn’t allow her kitty to berate himself like that.

“Kitty.” She said sternly. “Look at me. Now.”

He finally opened his eyes and watched her carefully.

“Stop beating yourself up. I told you I didn’t care about being seen with you like I did at the café. I didn’t care we went out to a nice restaurant with the potential of being seen or being photographed. I didn’t mind dancing with you. And I didn’t mind that I almost kissed you under the moonlight.”

Chat laughed bitterly as he ran a claw through his hair and tried to look away but she grabbed him by his chin and lifted it back towards her. The abrupt roughness left a sour taste in his mouth.

Before he could lash out at her, he got up and paced the room.

“You don’t get it!” He said, pulling at his hair. “I almost endangered you. Doing this. Doing this,” he gestured between them, “whatever this is could get you hurt!” He looked down at the ground, his voice lowering with it. “I can’t- I can’t.” He whispered. “I can’t let anything bad happen to you.”

Marinette walked up to him and carefully placed a hand on his bicep. “Chat. Look at me.” Chat peered back into her eyes. “Please don’t worry. Look. Did you hear my phone go off at any point since we left the club until now?” He shook his head. “Do you know what that actually means?”

“N- no?”

“That means nothing has been sent anywhere. Or at least nothing that would indicate it was me. Do you want to know how I know that?”

He stared.

“Because Alya - you know the crazy blogger who wouldn’t let go of a scoop even if it bit her in the hand...”

“That’s not the phrase...”

“And that’s not the point. The point is that she didn’t see a hashtag, a photo, or received an email showing that Chat Noir and a civilian were canoodling under the moonlight.”

His eyes widened at her words.

“That means I’m safe. That means it’s okay. That means you didn’t break your promise to me.”

“But-” He tried to say.

“No.” She said, a hardness in her tone. “Chat, tonight you showed me something that I haven’t felt in a long time. You gave me a happiness that I didn’t realize I was missing. You have no idea what tonight meant to me.”

She looked at him, a fervent gaze that heated his core. “You have no idea how much you mean to me.”

Chat’s jaw dropped as he peered into her eyes. A sudden rush of need filled his core and that bubbling, overpowering love that he had been feeling earlier burst through his heart and reached his mouth before he could even control his thoughts.

“Marinette?” Chat muttered nervously.

“Chaton?” She whispered so quietly that if it wasn’t for his heightened hearing, he was sure that he would have missed it.

He looked back up at her and placed his hand on her cheek.

“Can I-” he swallowed thickly, afraid of what her answer may be.

She stepped closer; her blue eyes peering through her thick lashes shyly as she placed her hands on his chest.

“Yes?” Her silent plea sounding like a prayer.

He wrapped his arms tightly around her waist and nuzzled his nose into her hair, taking in the scent of her shampoo. After a moment, he lifted her chin with his hand gazing right back into her gorgeous eyes.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Please.”

#marichatmay2020 #marichat #miraculous ladybug fanfic

22 notes · View notes

lokikingofasgardslover713 · 4 years

Text

Ch 5: Reprieve

Masterlist

The Auction House Masterlist

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson X OFC

Warnings: Angst, Lemons but nothing graphic

Summary: After realizing she is fighting a loosing battle, Loki’s soulmate begrudgingly goes along with Steve and Bucky who find her at a visitor center along the Blue Ridge Parkway, but to her surprise she isn’t rushed back to the compound. A reunion for she and Loki is planned in a mountain town, but how well does it go? Will the two be allowed a private moment without constant surveillance for once?

A/N: Hmm, maybe I give you a tender moment?

Words: +4,700

————

Running would only get you so far, she was no idiot and knew it for a fact. Having walked, hitched rides, and so forth until she made it this far, walking somewhere in Tennessee on the edge of the Blue Ridge Parkway. Having only carried the pack she left the compound with stuffed with water bottles and food, that was running low. Come to think of it when was the last time she had ate?

Thanks to HYDRA, it was possible for her to go this long with minimal sleep and food. The last bit of sleep had been at the compound, safe, next to Loki. Shaking her head, that was the last place her thoughts needed to venture at the moment, she didn't need her heart about to pound out of her chest like it had earlier. It would only waste more energy, she needed to figure this out without constantly being under observation.

Maybe that was the worst part of it all, the both of them were always watched, making it hard to be genuine with emotions. Adjusting the pack, despite the cold and the thin layer of clothing, it was causing sweat to run her spine and there was a need for rest at the moment.

There should be a rest area up ahead according to the sign she had passed a few miles back attesting to a small pull off with restrooms. That would be a good place to refill the water bottles and look over a map if they had one. Once the small building came into view, she let out a sigh of relief at having found one more area to pause at.

Trudging up the slight incline, she didn’t realize she was this tired. The place looked to be deserted, but usually it was this time of year, all leaves had fallen and there was a threat of snow that may shut this stretch of the parkway down.

Walking up to the structure, it appeared it housed a bathroom and possibly a small area with vending machines. Going to the bathroom first, they were a little dirty, but they would do. The echo of motorcycles pulling up outside didn't go unnoticed, but it was no call for alarm either, it was after all a nice winter day to ride despite the impending snow.

Finishing up she stepped out of the restroom to note both bikes were stopped close to the bathroom door and two familiar figures stepped off as she exited. There was no surprise both Steve and Bucky had caught up to her, this was the very reason for surveillance, to keep a loose leash on someone.

Stopping, she looked over to the concessions then back to both Steve and Bucky who paused as well. Casually pulling her pack in front, she looked away to dig into the side pouch, water sloshing as she removed a cobbled together device, zipping the pocket to sling the pack onto her back.

Taking a look at the men, she didn’t hesitate to walk towards the vending area. Both men followed close, standing back to watch her push a card leading to the device into the money slot, pressing buttons to select what she wanted then moving to the drink machine to do the same. It was a thing they had been watching her do via satellite feed.

Collecting her haul, she squatted, sitting the pack in front of her to put the device away and do the same with the food and drink. Placing it onto her back she stood and looked the two over, not one had spoken as they all paused in covered the area.

Looking them over, it was apparent she wasn't going to leave without them and truthfully she didn't have it in her to fight. One days sleep in over a week was wearing on her, not to mention the food she was eating.

Nodding she understood what this meant, slowly the pack slid from her shoulders so it could be tossed to Steve’s feet.

"Were only trying to help," Bucky spoke up as Steve cautiously took the pack to hoist over his shoulder, the two hinting she make her way out to the motorcycles.

Letting out a defeated huff, she nodded in agreement to step towards the bike she knew as Bucky’s. Not hesitating, she straddled the back seat for the brunet to take a seat in front of her. Even taking the helmet he handed back to force it onto her head, Bucky’s leather jacket creaking as she wrapped her arms around his waist. Without delay the two started up only to ride off in the opposite direction they came.

Thankfully it wasn't long they pulled off the parkway to drive into a heavily crowded area of hotels and arcades. The two turning down a side street between two hotels to one situated on a back street along the river and away from all the chaotic traffic.

Parking in a parking garage the two got off, hinting she follow, to which she did, Steve leading and Bucky behind her. This was very odd to say the least, neither was speaking, but it wasn’t needed either, possibly giving her time to process. Who knew, maybe they needed rest as well, but she doubted it as she followed them close.

Taking a flight of stairs up one level, the two soldiers lead her silently along the outer walk to the very last room as Steve brandished a key card. Placing it into the slot, the door clicked as the handle was pushed down and they all three entered the room, Bucky hinting she take a seat on the couch.

Doing so, she took a seat and looked around. This appeared to be a sitting area, a small kitchenette where Steve paused and there appeared to be more of the room further back, possibly a bed and bathroom as well. She really should be more attentive, but she couldn’t force herself to focus, she was had, what was the point.

It appeared they had just gotten here as well, eyeing Steve as he sat her pack on the counter to take out the food and drinks she had taken. There was no doubt Stark possibly paid for them as they were sat before her on the coffee table.

Watching Steve as he stepped out, Bucky came back from the other side of the room to take a seat next to her. Glancing over at the other, she seen the words he wanted to speak to her, the reassurance this was going to get better, or that there was hope for she and Loki. But it appeared he swallowed it down as both heard Steve on the phone outside the open door.

"She's seems to be alight, but she's obviously tired," Steve began the curtain hiding him from their view at the moment.

"You have to give him a chance to help, running want make it any better-," Bucky began, meeting her gaze.

She knew all too well what he meant, deep down she did, but all she wanted was the ability to finally have charge over her own life.

"I know how it is to finally break free of the control they had over you, the confusion, the lost feeling-. Just give it a chance," Bucky admitted, knowing she understood as they heard a voice outside that was not Steve.

"She hasn't rested in over a week, of course she is tired," Loki’s voice snipped harshly just beyond the open door, but he was hidden from view as well, though they seen his shadow. Though it appeared Steve was having none of the gods hateful retort.

She wasn’t going to deny her heart fluttered at the thoughts of him being just beyond the wall, a thing she didn’t expect to feel; like the sudden tightness when Steve began to berate the god fearlessly.

Steve returned the hateful retort to the god, "look, drop the tough guy act alright? It's not benefitting either of you. You have the room for as long as it is needed, and I suggest you take it as such."

The shadows shifted as they audibly heard Loki take in a breath. "The others, I am only cleared for a few days," Loki spoke but he seemed to be forcing himself to calm.

Her heart quickened once more when Loki spoke, fingers twitching as the god finally stepped into the room and Bucky got to his feet. Emerald gaze looked her over, inspecting for any marks or illness and appeared he was relieved to find none but scowled at the junk on the table before her.

Bucky stepped towards the door as Steve stood at the threshold looking the two over. "I’ll see what I can do about getting you longer time away from the compound," Steve spoke before he and Bucky exited to shut the door.

Getting to her feet, Loki ventured to speak her name, her gaze worn and haggard. It appeared to him she was falling asleep standing up as she stood before him. He seen the spark of life in her eyes when he said her name, noted her try to smile but stopped as she met his gaze.

"I know your tired mate," he spoke, remaining still as she paused almost flush to him. "You're welcome to the bed, or shower, which ever suits you."

Nodding with his statement, to be fare she wasn’t sure what she wanted as he hinted to the other half of the room. Giving him one last look, she stepped though the small kitchenette towards the bathroom located in the small bedroom that housed a king size bed.

God she could go for both right now, but she needed to clean up first. Taking a wobbly step into the bathroom, she shut the door without thinking of anything but getting cleaned. There was no way to describe the relief she felt at the fact Loki was close and there were no cameras watching their every move.

Loki was comforted to have her to himself. The sound of the shower cutting on made his own muscles relax, possibly due to her doing the same. Looking around the room, he stepped to the bedroom and waived hand at the dresser to place her things there as well. It seemed they truly were alone, pulling the curtains shut, he stepped back to the front room to do the same and rid the table of junk food.

If she was hungry, he would assure she received something better. Stepping back to the kitchenette he waited for her to exit the shower, he wanted to speak with her. Honestly of what he wasn’t sure, but then again it would be just enough for him to be close to her.

The warm water was welcomed, looking to the small shelf that would house shampoo and soap to find it held what she used at the compound. It was Loki’s doing and for the first time since she had found out he was her soulmate it was a comfort. Never thinking of what she was to put on until she stepped out and found a set of lounge pants and cami on the shelf over the towel rack.

Tugging the clothing on quickly, she stepped into the thankfully warm calmness of the room to note there were items laid out on the dresser for her such as a brush and lotions. Stepping to the dresser she reached for the comb, meeting her own tired gaze in the mirror she swore wasn’t there earlier.

It made her note just not her tiredness but how revealing the cami was, showing old scars and pale skin that hadn’t seen the light of day in a long time. The motion of the aforementioned god making her pause, watching his reflection as cool fingers skimmed over pale scars that striped her back.

Loki had no words as he moved behind her, fingers caressing the soft scars as she paused and met his gaze in the mirror. Looking back to the scared flesh, he carefully caressed over them, knowing every single one mirrored his own and worried how many more she had that done the same.

Both of their chests tightened, the feel of calloused fingers an odd comfort as her eyes fluttered closed to relish in the feel of her soulmate touching her. Just maybe, it was because she was tired of fighting the bond they shared, it felt freeing. Was this what she was looking for?

Fingers deftly pushed wet hair over her shoulder as he seen her eyes had shut. There was a tingle as he brushed across her flesh and noted her shiver.

A chill ran her spine as it appeared Loki was going to continue caressing over her cooling flesh. Lithe fingers tingled over old wounds, wanting to turn to face him but hadn't the strength as his careful caresses continued.

Placing her hands flat on the dresser top, Loki leaned with her, bowing his head, breath hot against her now clammy nape. He wanted so bad to place his lips to it but stepped back slightly as she turned to face him, tired eyes searching his face.

“Who did this,” he asked, studying her close, curious if she was still going to allow him to touch and appearing so as his fingers caressed her shoulder. He noted her look to the front room, wondering if they were truly alone and it appeared so.

Finally meeting Loki’s gaze, she was so tired but managed to form a coherent sentence. “I was in cryo when it happened, I flatlined before they were able to bring me out. I revived on my own," she admitted, noting the fingers of his freehand twitch at his side, emerald gaze flicking between her breast, spotting the pale point of a scar there.

"When," he swallowed thickly, all this tough act be damned, reaching out to place a hand between her breast over the thin cami, heart racing and the scar cold under his touch as he held her gaze.

"After the attack on New York," she mumbled, jolting slightly as he carefully directed her to the bed, one hand on her chest while the other reached to caress over her cheek.

The curtains were drawn, there was literally nothing to watch them here, he could sense it, taste it even as she fell into him and her head laid over his own scar. He had prepared questions to why she left, even an apology.

"I-," he began but paused. I’m sorry would in no way ask for forgiveness for the pain she suffered when he was lashed to the pillar, whipped to the point he lost count and consciousness. Loki was still unsure of the time that passed during his mistreatment or when he was unbound and allowed to fall to the blood-soaked floor.

He did remember the feel of slipping into a death like state, but it had subsided in moments. Loki also recalled, unfortunately, screaming out for her when he swore breath left her lungs and he seen her placed lifeless on a steel table.

No words, Norn’s he had no words of comfort once more as she slumped heavily into him. Carefully he looped an arm around her torso to cradle her close, hand slipping from her chest to lace into her wet hair as he laid his cheek to it.

"Forgive me love, I have no words," he huffed as he felt her arms wrap around his torso.

"Neither do I," she murmured, tugging him back to the mattress with her. The two of them getting comfortable and drifting to sleep.

Loki would lay here until he was assured she was fully asleep, then he would go take watch. The god needed to assure she was safe, understand where they were and assure she had all needed when she woke. Though for now, Loki would take comfort in the fact she was allowing him close, allowing him to hold her.

A loud crash of thunder made her jolt, body shaking as she looked around the dim room. Sitting up alone, the door standing open to allow what she could only describe as elegant cursing to enter with the cold wind. There was a scent of ozone and she swore there was no way it was the same day, or even the same month.

Getting to wobbly feet, she heard Loki snarl for the other to keep quiet and not wake her, but it was obviously too late as she shuffled to look out the door at Thor and Loki. There was a down pour outside as the two cursed one another.

"I am not about to bring her back after two days because their authority believes it has been long enough," Loki snarled, advancing on Thor as thunder sounded overhead. It had called for heavy snow in today’s forecasts, not this as Thor didn’t back down either.

"We don't have a choice! You don't obey this simple rule you risk them taking her," Thor snarled, thunder sounding his rage as he fumed. For once the rage wasn’t a thing Loki had caused but one that had been started when Thor himself was given news Loki and his soulmate were to be brought back regardless of any progress.

With a scoff Loki jabbed a finger at Thor, "I would love to see them try! Their authority has nothing on myself or you for that matter! We are gods! Not their puppets-!"

Baring his teeth, Thor was trying to contain his anger, "if we-, you are trying to make amends of past wrongs then you will or-."

Quickly Loki cut his brother off as thunder threated to drown them out, "at this point I do not care! Because of me she has suffered through my punishments on Asgard as well as under-. Regardless she is my mate and-."

This time Thor paused, cutting Loki’s rant off quickly, "she suffered through your punishments? Then you and her share scars, you're both-."

"Of course we do! As you and Jane-," Loki snarled but froze, "you and jane do not," the younger god huffed in realization. Though his brother and Jane were soulmates who shared dreams, it was apparent it didn't run as deep as his connection with his own.

"She’s the other half of your soul then," Thor huffed as the storm steadied.

"My twin flame," Loki admitted, looking into the room to spot her standing just beyond the doorway, groggy and on shaky legs.

Thor shifted forward, "then keep her here, I will figure out something. Rest assure no one will bother you," was all he uttered as he stepped past Loki who hadn't taken his eyes off of the woman waiting.

"Twin flame-," she swallowed, not having heard of soulmates referred to that in a long time. It was so rare they were rumored to be a connection only gods themselves shared between one another, or a very lucky mortal. "I-. Are you sure?"

"Yes love," he huffed, looking her over as he stayed outside the door, "our scars tell the story for us.”

This made so much sense, but still there were questions that needed asking to assure it was true. Remaining where she was, carefully she continued. "Is that why I felt like I was dying the entire time I was running from you?"

"Afraid so," he huffed, stepping back into the room as the sound and flash of lightning echoed around them. "We didn't mean to wake you."

Carefully Loki stepped close, as if she may bolt but thankfully she remained in place while he stepped flush, shocked she was allowing it. He could feel her heart hammering as he laid a hand over the cold scar under the cami, this should have killed her. Meeting her gaze, he gave a faint smile at the small sense of accomplishment this minor act gave him.

"How long was I asleep," she asked, carefully tugging at the button shirt he wore, wanting to know if he shared this scar, hand running past the hem to lay to the cold, smooth flesh that was unmistakably a scar mirroring her own. Nimbly she traced it as if her own, knowing the jagged lines even if they were reversed.

"Several days actually. How do you feel,” Loki admitted, relishing in the feel of her touching him. It was more than he could ever hope for, and regardless of trying to not get his hopes up,-he knew she could have a relapse-, Loki didn’t refuse himself the simple enjoyment of this small moment.

"Tired, but better. Hungry," she smirked, noting him return it as her fingers continued to trace the scar, feeling his thumb cherish the flesh under the thin cloth.

"You have had nothing but junk the past week I would suppose you are,” he hummed, keeping her gaze as his hand glided effortlessly to plump belly, testing to see if she allowed it. “Where would you like me to take you?"

The movement of his hand over her clothed flesh was familiar, calming and enjoyable. She should stop him, touch was pain, but the look he gave told her it was something different for them.

"Not sure, can I see your phone? I promise to not look up any videos," she admitted letting out a gasp as his hand slipped past the hem of the cami to press to the bare, cold scar.

Breath left her, staring into emerald orbs, a flash of memory blinding her, showing how his scar came to be, and having a feeling he experienced how hers was received as well. Heart thudding harder, she tried desperately to catch her breath, taking in a gulp as the blinding memory subsided and looking bleary eyed at one another.

"You seen,” Loki echoed, having walked her back to the bed when it appeared it was taking her a bit longer to process the memory, sitting so they faced one another.

"Yes, but so did you," she echoed, looking to Loki as if seeing him for the first time. Another flood of memories, this time it was a kind one, an old, shared dream that had her leaning forward to press her lips to his in a very chaste kiss.

"My mate," the god echoed as it appeared she became shy in moments and pulled away. It was fine, this was understandable. Taking the phone from his pocket, Loki placed it in her fiddling hands.

"Anywhere mate," he smiled as he got up to give her space and stepped out onto the back balcony.

Once back at the hotel, she became withdrawn once more, though it didn’t leave an acrid taste in the air like it had when they first met. It appeared there was something on her mind, but Loki knew pressuring for information would do no good. The god decided to take reprieve in the fact she was still allowing him close, even if she had grown quiet.

Slowly he followed her into the seating area only for her to tug him to the large bed. Kicking her shoes before tossing the covers back only to tug Loki to the mattress with her. Quietly she snuggled close as he sat against the headboard, her head laying on his thigh for her to quiet and fall asleep.

An odd calmness washed over him, lacing his fingers into her hair, it appeared she was taking solace in the fact Loki wasn’t pressuring her. Relaxing into the pillows that sat along the headboard, the god let her have her quiet dreams, choosing to stay awake to watch over her.

Loki needed time to think through the information Thor had told him about the Avengers overseers. The god in no way wanted her to suffer any more of his transgressions, but the scars they shared were ones he couldn’t have controlled, nor did any care to know the Hel he endured, turning him into the thing that attacked New York.

Looking to the clock, it appeared he had been lost in thought for several hours, continuing to card her hair while his free hand caressed down her spine. Taking in the fact they were still in their street clothes, Loki carefully allowed seidr to dance over her first, changing her into a different cami and boy shorts, before clothing himself in loose lounge pants but forwent the shirt.

Gently the dream ended, feeling relaxed more than earlier, noting she was cradled against Loki’s chest, the two of them laying on their sides on the mattress. A lithe hand traveled her spine soothingly while a hand carded her hair, the motions having a familiar heat pool between her thighs.

Who would have thought gentle care would awaken it, fingers traveling up her spine to the base of her skull to massage the tender flesh. “Loki,” she spoke quietly knowing he heard by the way he moved.

He had suspected she had woken, having sensed an excitement about her. “What is it mate,” he spoke cautiously, continuing to soothe the nape of her neck, but pausing in carding her hair.

Gingerly she pulled closer, arms wrapping his bare torso as she placed a leg over his hip and the other between his own to settle quietly. A wave of relief washed over them when her lips fell to his, the god not hesitating to deepen it as the hand on her neck kept her close and Loki pressed his thigh against her heated core.

Breaking the kiss, she let out a gasp, not hesitating to grind against his thigh, Loki giving a dark smile as his thigh pressed harder, making plump hips jerk. Letting out a stuttering breath, it was apparent they were on the same slate, calloused fingers dancing along his flesh made even him shudder before she pressed lips back to his once more, tongues caressing.

Desperately she ground even harder against his thigh, his mate breaking the kiss once more to pant and whimper in desperation. Another kiss, this time Loki breaking it to pull back while placing a hand to her hip to guide her. Holding her gaze, he felt her undoing close as her thigh brushed his own need, making a grunt of desperation escape the back of his throat.

Keeping the hand on the nape of her neck, Loki watched her head lull back, hand guiding plump hips to rut damp shorts over his thigh and her own caressed his growing need. Leaning forward, Loki placed his lips to her throat, kissing the flesh, tasting her as he closed his lips around her pulse to suckle the flesh.

Eliciting a moan, Loki released the flesh, feeling hips jerk as he kissed the flesh under her ear, both rutting at one another. “Let go love,” Loki panted, holding tight, kissing the pebbled flesh of her neck, marking her in desperation as she raked nails across his flesh, making him shiver.

More silent praises were spoken as he nipped and marked her flesh. It was mind numbing as he guided her, ground himself against her, the thoughts of Loki pleasuring himself was driving her closer and closer to the edge. She tried to form a coherent sentence, but it only came as wonton whimpers, feeling a familiar coil tighten.

“So close mate,” he panted against her skin, kissing it gently while fingers dug into her hip leaving bruises. “Look at me,” his voice gritted darkly as she felt him tip her head forward so they could lock gazes.

Drunkenly she looked at him, ecstasy clouding her view as sight went black, bursts of electricity running her spine for her body to arch into the god. It was a tidal wave of emotion; one she hadn’t experienced in a long time and apparently neither had Loki who tugged her shivering body close.

Quietly he talked her down, hand tenderly massaging her neck as he felt her own dancing along his chest, his heart thudding against her palms. Nothing but panting breath echoed between them for several moments.

“Are we going back,” her breathless voice broke the silence, a thing on both their minds.

Trying to calm himself, Loki found his voice, “no lover, rest,” he reassured, pulling tighter as their legs tangled and both quieted.

Tags are open and reblogs are welcome!

Tags: @marshyrebelcloud @cruel-kitten @moonfaery @dark-night-sky-99 @gramaeryebard @katstablook @andiyholly @jovanna-shewolf @nickyl316h @aslandia726 @furstinnajoelle @itsbqueenthings @collinsstanharbour @jazzieomega @bambamwolf87 @tomhardy41 @drakonwild @scorpionchild81 @devilbat @wayward-student-philosopher @jane-777 @the-minus-four @cherrygeek86 @iamverity @get-loki @alexakeyloveloki @moonlightprime

#LKAL #Loki Laufeyson #loki fanfic #loki x reader #loki x plus size reader #loki x ofc #loki mcu #Marvel MCU #MCU

29 notes · View notes

choiceswreckedme · 4 years

Text

Adience

This started as an entry for @choicesnovemberchallenge Day 13: Alcohol, then morphed into maybe an entry for Day 14: Love, but eventually became something entirely different.

If you can’t tell, I’ve been replaying Open Heart and I am deeply in my feelings about Ethan Ramsey right now.

Because I don’t have an actual tag list and I literally just went through my followers and picked some people I thought might like this: @debramcg1106 @burnsoslow @cora-nova @dr-ethanjramsey @darley1101 @rookie-ramsey(sorry if my assumption was incorrect!)

Donahue’s was packed full by the time Reese walked in the door. Bodies stood shoulder-to-shoulder, blocking her way as she craned her neck to try and find her friends in their usual booth. Her shift had gone nearly two hours over when Dr. Ramsey had cornered her to discuss lab findings on a patient who’d been admitted earlier in the day. He’d berated her, pressing her to find answers that she just couldn’t see, throwing her standing in the intern competition in her face. Resse thought that after Miami, things might be different, but instead he seemed determined to double down on his gruff, cold persona.

Now, trying to maneuver her way through the crowd, Reese contemplated just turning around and going home. She wanted to get mind blowingly drunk, but this scene might just be too much after her encounter with Ramsey. Her nerves were frayed, her body ached, and she just wanted to forget everything for the night.

Turning and making her way back to the door, Reese kept her head down and began fighting the crowd she’d just struggled through, taking maybe ten steps before plowing into someone’s chest.

“Oh shit –” she gasped, staggering back. A pair of strong hands gripped her upper arms, preventing her from falling. Looking up, Reese was dismayed to see Ethan standing before her, his sapphire gaze potent as he scanned her face. “Sorry, Dr. Ramsey,” she muttered, shrugging her shoulders so he would release her, then stepping to the side to continue on her way.

“Rook - Reese,” Ethan corrected himself, the burn in his chest intensifying at the sight of the woman in front of him. He had been doing everything in his power to forget about the kiss they shared in Miami: working late, pouring over case studies in the hopes of finding something substantial that could help Naveen, running miles upon miles on the treadmill in his building’s gym, just so he could push all thoughts of Reese away. Nothing, however, could burn away the memory of her lips on his, the taste of her tongue as it wound around his own, the breathy moans and sighs that made his dick hard and his balls ache.

He’d somehow pushed her away that night, but it had taken all his strength to keep her at arm’s length since then, especially tonight when her cheeks had burnt with frustration, as the fiery glint in her green eyes raked over his face as he countered every solution she presented with another problem. He’d wanted to pull her to him, to claim her lips, her body, every inch of her as his. Another bullet dodged when she stormed out of his office, Ethan knew the best way to keep her away was to make sure she was always furious with him. As much as he wanted to praise her, to collaborate with her on cases, to tell her how much he appreciated her drive and passion for helping patients, he had to settle for being an unfeeling asshole.

“What is it, Ethan? I have a date with a bottle of wine so I can forget this fucking day,” Reese snapped.

“Why are you leaving, then?” He tilted his head toward the worn door to Donahue’s. She shrugged, flicking her eyes to the side, her blond ponytail flipping over her shoulder. Ethan wondered what she would do if he wrapped his fist around her silky locks and crashed his lips to hers. Probably knee him in the balls.

“It’s busy. I didn’t feel like dealing with the crowd,” she explained listlessly. “Look, Ethan, this has been great, but I can’t do this with you tonight.” Reese hated how deeply he affected her when he could so quickly dismiss whatever had been blossoming between them. Her eyes filled with tears, partly from exhaustion and partly from heartache, and she swiped angrily at them.

“Reese, I –” Ethan didn’t know what to say to make things between them better, but he would do anything to erase the pain so clearly written on her face. He knew he couldn’t give her what she deserved - everything - but he could help her with one thing.

“Let’s go somewhere else,” he offered, shrugging. “You shouldn’t drink alone.”

Reese scoffed incredulously. “Since when do you care if I’m alone? I thought that’s exactly how you wanted me.”

“Jesus, Reese!” Ethan ran a hand through his thick, chestnut hair. “Can’t you just – can’t we –” he let his arms fall to his side, unable to find the words. He looked at her, eyes pleading to accept his offer.

Reese swallowed thickly. As angry as she was, she wanted to be with Ethan. Wanted to sit next to him and have a glass of wine, wanted to talk about their patients and their findings, to bounce ideas off one another like they had been for months. Trouble was, she also wanted to go home with him afterward, remove his clothes piece by piece, kiss each inch of his muscled body as it was revealed. And she was tired of fighting all those feelings.

“Fine,” she acquiesced. “I’ll have a drink with you.”

Ethan’s rare smile lit up his face, his emotions taking over before he could tamp them down. He gently placed a hand against her lower back and steered them out into the chilly Boston night. Once outside, he reluctantly let her go, jamming his hand in his pocket to keep from reaching out and lacing his fingers with hers.

The pair walked silently down the street in the opposite direction of Donahue’s. Passing the bright lights of Edenbrook, Reese gazed contemplatively at the tall building.

“I don’t think I’m cut out for this,” she admitted aloud, tears once again clouding her vision. Her entire life she’d been dreaming about this opportunity, but now that she had it, she felt like an imposter. She sniffled quietly, keeping her face turned from Ethan’s view. Her feet carried her past the hospital and she waited for him to voice his agreement.

Reese’s words stopped Ethan in his tracks. Reaching out, he pulled her back and turned her to face him. Tears tracked down her cheeks, rosy from the cold, and before he could stop himself his hands came up and tenderly brushed the wetness away.

“I told you I saw something in you, and I meant it,” he stated firmly. “You have the potential to be an amazing doctor. You have talent every single one of those interns would kill for.” Ethan cradled her face in his hands, the words pouring forth before he could stop them.

“I find you to be the most inspiring, intelligent, beautiful woman I’ve ever known. Do you know how it kills me to see you every day and not be able to tell you that? I don’t know why you can’t see what I see, what everyone in that hospital can see,” he shook his head in wonder. “You are incredible, Reese, and I –”

He broke off, unable to admit the words he knew were true. He was her attending, and for her sake he needed to stay away from her. He couldn’t, wouldn’t, jeopardize her career by putting her in a position where her talents could be questioned. Summoning all his will, Ethan took a step back, his hands falling away from her beautiful face.

“I think maybe I should walk you to the train,” he said, frustration making him terse. Reese blinked at him, thrown off balance by his rapidly shifting demeanor.

“Okay … Ethan what’s wrong? Did I do something?” The small tremor in her voice nearly broke him. If only he could tell her what it was that she’d done to him - that she’d stolen his heart.

He turned away, huffing unconvincingly. “Of course not. I just don’t think you give yourself enough credit. And,” he lied, “the bar I was thinking of going to is already closed. I just remembered.”

Reese hurried to keep up with Ethan has he strode quickly toward the subway station near the hospital, her head spinning. This back and forth with him was going to ruin her if she let it. She stared at his back as he walked ahead of her and made a decision. She was done.

The station was nearly empty when they reached the gate. Ethan turned to Reese and shoved his hands in his pockets, waiting for her to make the first move.

Wind whipping her hair around her face, Reese locked eyes with Ethan. If she was giving up on him, he deserved to know it.

“What were you going to say earlier,” she asked, “when we were outside Edenbrook?” He started to turn his head but she reached up and grasped his chin, forcing him to look at her. He stood there, unmoving, Reese’s fingers cold on his face. “Answer me, Ethan. Tell me how you feel,” she pleaded. “If you won’t say it, I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

His heart raced at her admission. This was what he wanted, for her to flourish as a doctor under his tutelage, unencumbered by a romantic entanglement. He was trying to protect her, but all he was doing was hurting them both. Anger at himself, at the situation, at the damned world, rose in his gut.

“You want to know how I feel, Reese?” His voice carried through the still air, words tinged with desperation. “All I’ve wanted to do for the last five months is tell you how I feel! But I’m trying to protect you!” He broke off, chest heaving, unable to deny his feelings any longer.

Reese stared up at him, heart pounding. They were on the precipice of something and whatever Ethan said next would decide whether they fell or faltered.

“God damn it!” Ethan cried, shoving his hands in his hair as he walked away. Almost immediately, he doubled back to where she stood. “I can’t stay away from you,” he groaned, burying his fingers in her thick blond hair. He wrapped his other arm around her waist and crushed her body against his, his mouth covering hers.

Reese immediately responded to Ethan’s kiss, her tongue plunging into his mouth and twisting with his. Teeth clashed and bit, each of them trying to get closer to the other, months of pent-up feelings coming out in a frantic rush. His hands moved down to palm her ass, lifting her with ease so she could feel his excitement pressing against her mound.

“God, Reese, I’ve wanted this for so long,” Ethan mumbled against her skin, pressing kisses down the creamy column of her throat. “I want you … I need you …”

She threw her head back, lost in the sensation of Ethan and completely oblivious to the fact that they were in public. She ground her pelvis against the thick ridge of his cock, making him moan ferally.

“Oh fuck, Reese … let me take you home,” Ethan groaned, anchoring her against him.

“Yes, god, please,” she replied breathlessly. Ethan gripped her around the waist and quickly let her down. He grabbed her hand and pulled her along, rushing to the lot where his car was parked. Letting her go to deposit her in the passenger seat, Ethan hurried around to the driver’s side, sitting down and starting the car in one smooth maneuver.

The ride to Ethan’s condo was silent. Reese was afraid anything she said would make Ethan change his mind, and she’d been waiting for this very moment for months. She twisted her fingers together in her lap, nerves nearly consuming her as she thought about what lay ahead.

Ethan gripped the steering wheel and willed himself to calm down. He had made his decision; there was no going back. No, tonight they were going to make this real, consequences be damned.

Tonight, he was going to claim her body just as she’d claimed his heart.

#choices fanfic #choices fanfiction #choices oh #choices open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #ethan ramsey x mc #open heart ethan

29 notes · View notes

vsullivan · 5 years

Text

Lucky 7 | Steve Harrington x Reader - pt. 2

WARNING I haven’t finished season 3 yet, I’m on chapter 7 and am savoring the episodes so I’m trying not to binge them. But I’ll be writing more don’t worry! Sorry if I make plot errors. Also, I want to make it a point not to really describe Seven’s physical appearance (other than clothes, and I’ll probably make references of her having hair but not really describing the haircut), I feel like leaving it ambiguous really helps readers envision how they want Seven to look and I want everyone to feel included :^)

Father had made it very clear to her that these memories she’s seen are not her own. They are not hers to act on, nor hers to replicate. She is simply recounting these scenes and relaying them back to the men in white coats. And for a long, long time, she complied to these rules.

Chapter 2: Mall Trip

Another power of hers that Father discovered was the ability to force others to perform actions against their will or knowledge – just from a simple gaze. As she does to view memories, she can grasp that tendril and give the individual tasks that they will execute without question. She had not realized this discovery caused others to become wearier around her, for Father was an expert of concealing the truth. However, she did notice that she was forced to wear her eye mask more often, and the men in white coats began to wear sunglasses during experiments. When she asked the reason why, Father simply stated “For your safety.” She didn’t question it.

After her first successful attempt of controlling someone’s actions, similar experiments were thrown in amongst the usual memory exploration. She’d been told to make someone tie their shoes when they were wearing sandals; to make a bald man to brush the hair he did not have – simple tasks that would be unusual for the individual to do of their own will. Eventually, she grew bored of these experiments, and when she expressed this she was scolded and harshly dragged to her room.

When she was alone, she sometimes dreams of having a family who hug and smile at her without that layer of fabric that prevents her from seeing those eyes full of love and arms that stretch out to embrace her. She would use the faces of mothers and fathers she’d seen in others’ memories, of siblings and cousins, aunts and uncles, all to dream of her having the same simple life. She began to envy family life of individuals’ whose minds she explored.

And when she grew older, she began to envy their freedom.

Seven already accomplished her first task of begging Hops to borrow his ride to the mall. It was a struggle each time, because despite him having taught her to drive a vehicle, the thought of her, without a license or any real identification whatso-damn-ever, scares the pure hell out of him. However, those puppy eyes get him every time, and he always winds up tossing her the keys, a frown on his face as he warns her to “Don’t kill yourself, my car, or others. In that order.” That makes her smile every time too.

Once, Seven met Steve and Nancy’s ex friends from highschool. The girl, who had a pretty face but a nasty mouth, commented on how ‘good will’ Seven’s outfit was. At first, she didn’t know what that meant. Her response was to smile and utter a thanks, while the ex-friend’s face contorted into a look of confusion. The male who accompanied her snickered, eyeing Seven up before stating “Cute, but yeah, you look piss poor.” At that, Seven’s smile fell and she noted how Nancy’s gaze turned heated as she stared at the two degrading her new friend.

“Let’s go.” Nancy said as she took ahold of Seven’s wrist, guiding her away from the mocking that ensued as she was pulled away. “Have fun with Nancy The Slut Wheeler, hobo.” The male shouted after them, and Seven’s couldn’t stop herself from turning back to meet the boy’s gaze. She grasped ahold of that tendril, and next thing you know he poured the slushy he’d been holding over his head and slinging the remnants on his companion who squealed in response.

“What the fuck, Tommy!?” Once Seven looked away the boy snapped back to his senses. He made an “Oof” sound as he was smacked in the gut. “I-I don’t know, what just happened?” He stumbled over his words, the girl beside him began to berate him as he fumbled over how to explain what the hell just happened.

Wiping the blood dripping from her nose, Seven smiled as she listened to the two’s heated discourse, knowing full well Nancy had the same little smirk as she continued to drag Seven away from the scene.

From that day on, she never thought to change her wardrobe. Not only did she not have any money aside from the spare change Hops would give her to treat El to some snacks and pizza, but she really liked her oversized sweaters and faded denim jeans, thank you. Sometimes she did wonder if Steve also thought she looked like she’d come ‘straight outta good will,’ but he’s never given any indication that he did. In fact, he once complimented her on one of her father’s old leather jackets she’d worn to one of the group’s monster hunting meetings. She would never not appreciate Hops’ hand-me-downs, even if they were way too damn big. She made downsizing her clothes a hobby anyways.

With that notion, she didn’t bother to change her outfit before hopping into the car and starting her drive to the mall. As always, she drove five miles under the speed limit – something Hops trained her to do. However, she always wondered why the cars behind her honked sporadically and drove only a centimeter distance between their vehicle and her own. When she asked her dad he said, “Don’t worry about it, they’re the ones that wind up in the ditch.” And because she didn’t want to wind up in a ditch, she sometimes drove another five miles below when the road was crowded. For some reason, this made even more honks sound in the distance.

She parked as far away from the building as possible, fearing someone might scratch the car up – or something that would undoubtedly get Hops’ panties in a twist. Turning off the engine, Seven sighed, anxiety had been building the whole ride there – and not solely because of the stream of honks that followed her during the drive. She threw her head back against the seat, her heart pounding as she envisioned the same chipper grin he’d given her the beginning of the summer, despite the red of his cheeks that she later discovered was a result of embarrassment. The kids told her that he was embarrassed of his uniform, but she herself thought it was adorable – she’d never seen that kind of outfit before, and really didn’t know what a sailor was until someone explained. When he first shouted “Ahoy, young lady.” Her eyebrows furrowed and struggled finding the words to respond with. When Steve’s face flushed an even brighter red, the kids she’d came with snickered.

She closed her eyes and spoke a silent promise to herself; I will not embarrass myself. I will not embarrass Steve. I will not be the cause of Robin calling him a dingus. As a matter of fact, I will not go in the store. Her eyelids then fluttered open, finally grabbing onto the handle of the car door and getting out the mini sauna it quickly became under the summer sun.

Marching to the automated glass door of the building, something that still fascinated her to this day (although this time she did not feel compelled to step in and out of the building to entertain herself for thirty minutes before Hops found and asked her what the hell she was doing). Her pace quickened as she strode across the brightly lit store fronts, her eyes staring straight ahead. Her mission was Scoop’s Ahoy, and it wasn’t long before she neared the neon ice cream signs and slowed her pace.

Wanting to relish her drive-by, she slowly carried herself across the space, side eying the interior of the store. A frown found its way to her lips when she didn’t see that beautiful big head she’d come all the way here to see. Actually, no one was at the counter. Disappointment settled in the pit of her stomach as she passed the storefront all together. Sighing, her pace slowed even more as her gaze drifted to the floor. That is, before she her name being called.

“Hey, Sev!” She recognized that voice as Robin’s. Looking up, said girl strode to her, a big grin on full display. “Come to see your favorite dingus?” She winked, causing Seven’s face to heat up. “N-No, I-“ She stammered, “I-I was just passing by.” Robin hummed as an eyebrow of hers perked up. “Oh really, where were you heading exactly?” It took more seconds than it should have for Seven to come up with an excuse, for she really didn’t know any of the names of the other stores in the mall – she hadn’t even been in any aside from Scoop’s.

Robin giggled at Seven’s struggle, a knowing look present in her gaze. Seven didn’t even need to grasp a tendril to know what the girl was thinking. “Right-“ She cooed, the playfulness in her tone rising drastically. “Well, I had just gone off the girl’s room, but now I gotta get back to work.” She then stepped forward and turned her head back to Seven. “You know, the dingus is here too. Why don’t you come say hi?” She winked once more before scurrying back into the store, likely a tad late after her extended break.

Seven’s stomach flipped repeatedly, knowing Robin would undoubtedly declare her presence to Steve. The mischievous teen would likely tell him that Seven seemed to want to come to Scoop’s Ahoy specifically, and she worried if she didn’t show then he’d wonder if she didn’t want to see him – which she did, very much so, but also didn’t want him to think she wanted to very much so. Oof, she really needs to work on how to counter Robin’s tricks.

Taking a breath, Seven exhaled as she leaned her shoulder against the nearest wall. She might as well get it over with. Then, she lifted herself and took her time walking towards the neon signs once more. Her heart was racing as she turned her head to peek in, and she was instantly greeted with the big grin on Robin’s face and a head of hair with a white little sailor’s cap on top sticking out from behind an ice cream display shelf.

She watched as her friend said something Seven couldn’t hear over to the same sailor hat wearing figure looming next to her. Next thing you know, Steve’s pretty face came into view, a grin of his own tugging at his lips as he spotted Seven still peeping inside. Her stomach was doing summersaults as she dared to step into the store, but his smile still coaxed her in. Once she was near the counter, he rejoiced, “Ahoy there, pretty lady.” He spoke, her face flushing at the compliment and her heart racing from just being within the same room as him. “You too.” She said too quickly, immediately regretting her choice of words as her blush spread.

However, it seems as if he’s gotten better used to her anxiousness. “Why thank you,” His eye contact never faltering. “My bad day just got better.” She smiled and added, “Why’s that?” Robin snickered then, shaking her head as she began looking over the register. Steve threw his coworker a quick scowl before turning back to Seven, the smile back on his handsome face. “Well, seeing a pretty girl like you always gets me back into the swing of things.” Seven’s smile grew wider, and he noted to himself that he needed to compliment her directly, otherwise it goes right over her pretty little head.

“You made my day better too.” She added, now picking at the buttons of her shirt to try and relieve some of that nervous energy. “Oh really,” He quirked a brow, “You know how this day could get even better?” She picked her head up from where they were focused on her anxious fingers to that endearing set of brown eyes that looked back at her. “What?” She asked sweetly. “If you would be so kind as to accompany me to a movie at-“ Suddenly, the shout of his name caused Steve to look past her, Seven turning to see too.

A set of pearly white teeth, curly brown hair, and what seemed to be a boy scout uniform greeted them as the boy waltzed his way right up to the counter next to Seven. It took Steve a moment to double back to reality, slightly annoyed by the interruption, but he couldn’t stop the grin from forming as he shouted “Henderson! I missed you buddy.” Seven smiled as she watched the two reunite. Hugs ensued before Dustin turned to give Seven a hug of her own. “Missed you too, Sev.” He said, and she smiled. “Same her.” She stated, not noticing the way Steve looked at her and younger boy – a mix of contentment and slight, and I mean very slight, jealousy written on his features. He’ll have to get back at the little shithead for interrupting him asking out the girl he’s been trying to score a date with for nearly a year.

Sensing that she should probably leave to let the boys catch up, she backed away and cleared her voice. “I’m really happy to see you again, Dustin.” The boy grinned at her before she turned to look at both Steve and Robin. “And you two, but I guess I should get going.” Steve nearly sputtered as she turned to walk away, Dustin throwing him a bamboozled look as the older boy nearly toppled over the counter to reach out to her.

“Oh, wait uh, hey!” He called out, causing Seven to stop in her tracks. Steve swallowed nervously as he watched her look at him in surprise. “Do you, do you-“ It took him a moment to think, “Uh, want to go with the movies with me tonight?” He said, a nervous smile gracing his lips. “It’s a comedy!” He added, and she smiled back at him, and he braced himself for another round of anxious rejection she always served him.

However, this time nothing stopped her from saying what she always wanted to. “Of course,” She stated simply, “What time?” Don’t be fooled, her heart is about to burst from how fast its beating and she even surprised herself with how she so easily accepted his proposal. His eyes widened, bewilderment adorned his face from the surprise acceptance as his brain scrambled to answer back.

“Hm, how about 7?” He grinned, mentally patting himself on the back at his smooth recovery. She nodded quickly, this time she knew better than to answer back as if he was saying her name instead of a time. “That’d be great!” Hearing that, he had to resist the ‘hell yeah’ that resounded in the back of his mind as he said, “I’ll pick you up around 6:40 then.” She nodded once more, sealing the deal and neither of them could be happier.

“Wow, so you finally got that date, huh?” Dustin sounded once Seven had left the store, his arms crossed as he watched Steve continue to stare in the direction in which she left even after she’d already disappeared. “Uh, um, yeah.” He snapped out of his thoughts and turned to his good friend who seemed annoyed, yet happy for him at the same time. “I’m impressed,” Robin suddenly stepped in, apparently Steven hadn’t notice her go in the back and get the white marker board that presented “You Suck, and You Rule” on either side.

There were at least 10 tally marks on the side of “You Suck,” all of which indicated how many times he’s tried and failed to get Seven to go out with him. But now, finally, he watched as Robin slowly opened a marker and mark that first tally under “You Rule.” She smirked as she put the cap back on.

“Now let’s see how many more you can get, if any.”

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Tag list:

@a-girl-who-loves-disney <33

idk what happened i tried to edit the post and then everything was gone rip.

117 notes · View notes

uncoordinated-house-cat · 5 years

Text

new chapter of salt to spare is up!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17655959/chapters/46016056

i haven’t opened ao3 for like three weeks but my last three brain cells finally managed to produce several sentences yay

Félix turned around to find Kagami gazing up a bland grey stairwell that seemed to be their only path. He sat down, panting furiously. Kagami was also gasping to catch her breath.

“I… I think we’ve lost them,” Félix chuckled, still out of breath. He could hear a faint pounding on the other side of the door. “We should probably go up, though, just to be on the safe side.”

Kagami nodded and began the climb.

If Félix was really paying attention, he would have noticed how many floors the building seemed to have and how they should’ve reached a roof right now. He’d only seen a three-or-four storey building outside, it shouldn’t have been that high. But Félix was far too focused on the stitch in his side (exercise was not his friend) to think of anything but the food he wanted to eat. Running made him ridiculously hungry. If only he had eaten some of that really good food back at Chloe’s party… food… yum…

“Félix!” Kagami exclaimed, pinching his arm to get him out of his reverie. “Snap out of it.”

“Huh?” Félix blinked and Félix followed tiredly after her. Ugh, stairs.

If Félix was really paying attention, he would have noticed how many floors the building seemed to have and how they should’ve reached a roof right about then. He’d only seen a three-or-four storey building outside, it shouldn’t have been that high. But unfortunately, Félix was far too focused on the stitch in his side (exercise was certainly not his friend) to pay any attention to think of anything but the food that his rumbling stomach would definitely like to eat. If only he had eaten some of the food back at Chloe’s party… food… yummy…

“Félix!” Kagami exclaimed, punching him in the arm and snapping Félix out of his reverie. He was still really hungry, though.

“Huh?” Félix blinked a few times and shook his head.

“The door, we’re at the top,” Kagami said impatiently, pulling open a grey door that Félix had simply walked past. She stalked outside and put a hand to her face to shield her eyes from the sunset. Félix followed her and let the door swing shut behind him. He could see another door on the opposite side of the roof that would lead them downstairs and to the ground again. Dragging himself along, he staggered to the other side of the roof and reached out for the doorknob.

Click.

Félix tried again. The door must have been faulty, there was no way it-

Click.

“Um… Kagami, I think we may have a slight, tiny problem here…” Félix’s voice sounded nervous even to his own ears.

“Yeah, no kidding,” Kagami called back. “How high up is this?”

“It’s not that high, it’s only four or so…” Félix turned around to find Kagami staring down the side of the building. He took a few steps towards her and saw a tiny red brick building on the street across them, what seemed to be miles down. “...Floors.”

“We got the wrong building? Seriously!?” Kagami groaned. “I climbed all that way up for nothing. At least we can get back down easily enough, though. I suppose going down is easier than going up.”

“Erm, well, uh, you see...” Félix rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “I hate to say it, but unfortunately we’re not going anywhere.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“Pound it!” The iconic fistbump marked the end of the akuma attack, and, having retrieved and purified the dark little butterfly, Ladybug threw up the spotted spray can and said the other iconic superhero cry: “Miraculous Ladybug!”

The torrential rain of ladybugs whirled around them in a flurry of red sparkles, enveloping the damage that the akuma had done and returning its henchmen to their normal selves.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Well, if we’re stuck here we might as well get to know each other,” Félix said breezily, sitting down and crossing his legs.

Kagami stared at him. “You’re not even going to try and get down?”

Félix raised his eyebrows and gestured to the edge of the rooftop. “I’d like to see you try.” This time he received a glare.

“No offence, but your outfit is far less… indispensable than mine.” The edge of her mouth curved slightly.

“Seriously? I’ll have you know that this suit is top of the line seasonal clothing designed by my uncle, Gabriel Agreste,” Félix puffed out his chest and stuck out his legs to show off the very plain suit he was boasting about.

Kagami snorted. “Gabriel Agreste isn’t even that good at designing, all his lines are boring.”

Félix winced. “I’m so glad he didn’t hear you say that.”

“Or what, he’d get the Gorilla to go after me?” Kagami held up her fists and held a mock fighting stance. “Come at me, you coward.” She punched the air and faked a kick in Félix’s direction. “Actually, I’d probably be better with a sabre.”

“Yikes, remind me not to get on your bad side,” Félix smiled. Kagami’s mouth curved again, then her expression went sour.

“My mother says I should be more dainty outside the fencing ring. She thinks that when I grow up I’ll marry the rich son of a family friend and that I shouldn’t get my hopes up for being a professional fencer. Apparently I should be more meek and mild, as she puts it, if I want any hope for a good husband.”

Félix grimaced. “That sounds horrible. You deserve better.”

“Don’t you dare pity me.” Kagami’s voice was toneless. “I may not have a decent mother, but I will always, always have my dignity.”

“I’m not,” Félix said gently, standing up. “But you sound like you could use a friend right now.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Kagami sounded a little choked up. But when Félix held out a hand to her and she took it, for the briefest moment, she smiled.

~~~~~~~~~~

“You know, m’lady, I think it would’ve been calmer if I’d just stayed home. I could be having a catnap right now, you know.” Chat Noir lounged his head lazily on Ladybug’s lap.

Ladybug wound a third finger into Chat’s golden hair, giggling at the light rumble that came from his chest. “Are you saying you’d rather be at home than with me?” She asked jokingly. “If I’m so unappreciated, I might as well leave, then, shall I?”

“No!” Chat exclaimed. He snatched Ladybug’s wrist just as she was about to pull it from his hair and he pressed it flat against his head. “Please don’t leave, Bugaboo,” he mewled.

Ladybug laughed. “Silly kitty,” she said fondly, ruffling his hair up. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’re the best partner ever,” Chat announced, adding a decisive nod as if to persuade the imaginary crowds around them that out of the many superhero partners he’d had through his long experience, Ladybug had proved herself to be the only one worthy of the title.

“And I’m the luckiest lady in Paris,” Ladybug declared. “I mean, not to brag, but I kinda have the power of all of creation and anime on my side.”

Chat beamed up at her like the Chesire Chat. Ladybug mirrored him with a glint in her eyes. “You know what? I think a little exercise wouldn’t hurt.”

Quick as a flash, Ladybug removed her hand from Chat’s hair, ignoring his yelp of protest, and jumped off the roof that they were sitting on. “Catch me if you can!” She yelled over her shoulder. Chat Noir looked at her, aghast, before realizing she was getting away and snapping into action mode, getting on all fours and chasing her across the rooftops.

Ladybug laughed joyfully in the wind as she hooked her yo-yo around the nearest chimney, swung around and met Chat’s shocked face as she went straight past him in the opposite direction. She stuck her tongue out and waved to him as she soared through the sky, running away.

Chat smirked in her direction and vaulted on his baton after her, using all his energy to catch up until they were running side by side. They shared a devious look and Ladybug yelled: “First one to the Eiffel Tower wins!”

“You’re on,” Chat replied, practically galloping. He ducked to the side and sped around another building, travelling towards the Tower in elongated bounds.

Ladybug did similarly, swinging along like a monkey and catapulting herself through the air when she spotted two tiny figures sitting on top of one of Chloe’s father’s buildings. The thing was massive, she had no idea how they’d even gotten there. The figures didn’t seem to have seen them, but Ladybug alerted Chat Noir anyway. “Chat!”

Chat flicked his eyes over to Ladybug, who had stopped running entirely and was peering at the people on the building. He slowed down, turning around and coming back to her before stopping. “What is it, m’lady?”

“I think there are people on the building over there,” Ladybug replied, gazing at them. “And I reckon they’re stuck.”

“How the hell did they get stuck up there?” Chat asked. Because of his cat vision, he could see quite a lot more than Ladybug, and as he squinted at the two figures who appeared to be standing up, he could make out Félix and Kagami. His mouth dropped open. “Yeah, we should probably go get them,” Chat said, rubbing his chin in confusion. And the worst part was that he couldn’t even berate Félix as Adrien because he couldn’t let him know that he had two identities!

~~~~~~~~~~

Félix smiled at Kagami and squeezed her hand. It might have been a trick of the light, but he was sure that she turned pink, if only for a second. It was only the movement in the background that pulled his eyes from hers, and when he stared behind her, Kagami turned around and let go of him to see what he was looking at. Félix would never admit it, but he missed the warmth of her hand.

He turned to face Ladybug and Adrien - no, it was ‘Chat Noir’ (he had to have a word with him about the costume, Adrien was a complete furry but he wasn’t supposed to waltz around Paris in that - Gabriel would go into cardiac arrest if he knew).

“How did you two even get up here?” Ladybug asked, landing lightly next to Chat Noir. “Was it the akuma?”

“We, uh, got stuck,” Félix said abashedly. “The doors were locked.”

“Right,” Ladybug said without any conviction whatsoever. “Let’s get you home then.”

“I’ll take Félix,” Chat volunteered. That way he’d be able to easily just slip into his room and detransform in case Félix decided to check up on him.

Félix understood that Adrien was probably just vying for an excuse to hang out with him, bless him and his soft heart, but he was mildly irritated that Ladybug and Chat Noir had interrupted his… as of yet unknown thing that was going on with Kagami. Not to say that he liked her, no, that would be preposterous, he merely found her interesting to talk to. Kagami seemed like the kind of person to compliment you one second and strangle you the next, and Félix found that he rather liked it.

“Alright, I’ll take Kagami,” Ladybug said, placing an arm under the girl’s shoulder and hoisting her up. “Bug out!” She flicked her yo-yo with her free hand and sailed off.

“Come on, hop up,” Chat said, gesturing to his baton. “Where do you live again?”

Secret identity, schmecret ischmentity, Félix thought. “My room is literally five metres away from yours,” he deadpanned. Life was short, and he needed to vent. And tell Adrien that his outfit was ridiculous.

“Huh?” Chat replied, though Félix could see a flicker of shock in his eyes. “Who’s Adrien?”

“You, you dolt, and by the way, you’re terrible at lying.”

“Oh my god. Oh my god. Are you kidding me, Félix?!” Chat started panicking and took Félix with him, jumping over the buildings with his baton, muttering how he shouldn’t have such a stupid cousin and he was a good kid, what did he do to deserve this. Chat reached the Agreste Manor, ducking in a window and dropping Félix down so he could press his hands against his temples. With a shower of green, Plagg zipped out of the ring and left Adrien skintight-leather-suit-less to go and sit on Félix’s shoulder.

Adrien looked up to find his best friend sitting on the shoulder of his other best friend (Nino was a close third). His face contorted with the anguish of Plagg’s betrayal. “I thought we were friends, Plagg! How could you?”

“He gave me these things called ‘gummy bears’, I think,” Plagg said. “Now I know why Tikki likes them so much.”

Félix grinned at his cousin like the cat who’d got the cream. Adrien sighed. “You’re really not supposed to know about this, you know. How did you even figure it out?”

“I have no idea how the rest of Paris didn’t,” Félix retorted. “You wear the same cologne, you both pun too much, you’re both total furries and also neither of you ever change your hair. Ever. Honestly, you’ve got the fluffiest hair in France, so speaking as someone who knew you before you learned to walk, that’s a big freaking giveaway.”

“Hey!” Adrien exclaimed. “I’m not a furry!” Félix gave him a look. “Okay, maybe I am kind of a furry. But cats are awesome,” he defended himself.

“Seconded,” Plagg interrupted. “Cats are awesome, they’re so underrated. Jeez, I really miss Ancient Egypt. Those were some good times. People would call me a god, and give me cheese, and everyone would worship me and tell me that I was the greatest thing that happened to them.” Plagg sighed.

“Speaking of cats, your costume is outrageous,” Félix stated. “I could do better than that in my sleep.”

“Oi!” Adrien yelled. “I’m the one whose dad is a fashion designer, not you! You can’t just critique my outfit!”

“It’s based on his true desire,” Plagg snorted. Adrien scowled at him.

Félix cackled. “No wonder, that makes so much sense.”

“You say that now, but if you ever had a Miraculous your costume would probably be a bloody peacock,” Adrien grumbled.

“Not to worry, cousin. If I ever get a Miraculous and my outfit is more stylish than yours, I promise that I won’t rub it in your face.”

“That’s it,” Adrien said, making some rude gestures that Félix was surprised he even knew, “I’m leaving. Come on, Plagg!”

“Where are you going?” Félix asked, waving goodbye to the unhappy kwami, who, no doubt, was thinking about cheese.

“If you really must know, I’m going to the Dupain-Cheng bakery to get some sugar. I can’t handle all this sarcasm in my face without some croissants to tide me over,” Adrien groaned. Plagg brightened up immediately, floating mildly faster to reach him as he speed-walked out.

Félix was pleasantly surprised. Huh. I didn’t know he had it in him, that little rascal. I hope Marinette doesn’t trip over her feet too much when he goes over to surprise her - I need to have some chance of godchildren.

#felix agreste #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #adrienette #ladynoir #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug fanfic #ml fanfic

14 notes · View notes

boogiewrites · 5 years

Text

Choking On Sapphires 68

Title & Song: What Kind Of Man

Characters: Alfie Solomons x Genevieve (OFC)

Word Count: 9400+

Summary: Alfie breaks a promise to Genevieve, causing their worst fight yet. When she threatens real repercussions against him, he finds himself being the one doing the begging for the first time. Her need for control turns into a good old fashioned hate fuck. They find themselves a new way to solve their arguments and a new understanding of boundaries in their relationship.

Warnings/Tags: Explicit Sexual Content. Strong Dom/Sub roles and reversals.Bondage.Blindfold and rope Sub Alfie with a touch of Dom. Dom Gen with a touch of Sub. Fluff, Angst. Arguing/Fighting, yelling, forceful physical restraint and shoving while fighting. Emotional manipulation. They’re both unstable.But I love them and their flaws.

**Chapter song is What Kind Of Man by Florence + The Machine.**

Click on my icon then go to my Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.)

Alfie had made some questionable decisions in his day. He was aware of this. But now those decisions involved you. Some you knew about, others you didn't, and on this day one that you did not know about, and for good reason, was going to cause a fight that would bring him to his knees.

He sat in his office, eyes miles away, fingers picking through his beard as his mind raced.

"You ain't 'eard from 'em?" he asks Ollie for the third time this hour.

"No, sir, they're set to call your office phone anyway."

"It's been too long." he grumbles, eyes moving to the silent phone on his desk. "She shoulda been outta that meetin' and on her way home by now." he slumps and rests his forearms on his desk.

"Maybe there was more to discuss than Abeille? Or another meeting after she'd added on?" Ollie offers, trying to be helpful.

"You suggestin' I 'ont know how to keep tabs on me own woman?" he glares over to the tall younger man, who now had eyes wide with fear and apologies.

"I wasn't-" he begins his head shaking back and forth when the phone rings.

Alfie doesn't take his eyes off Ollie, a low brow still berating him wordlessly. "'Ello?" he answers.

"Boss... uh... you should be goin' to the missus house as soon as ya can." the stuttered and rushed words of one of the men he'd sent to tail you around town for protection make him stomach tighten.

"Why?" he demands in a flat and authoritative tone.

"She knows about us." he says, catching his breath.

"And how the fuck would she know? What'd you do? What took you so long to fuckin' call?" he commands.

"It went south quickly. Roddy was shot and I had to take him to the hospital." he hesitantly answers.

"Fuckin' shot? What about her?" his eyes go wide with worry, his free hand placed on the top of his desk, body already wanting to dart for the door.

"She's fine. We got in in time to help her out. They had her outnumbered but... she fuckin' gave it to 'em that's for sure."

"What the fuck happened?" he asks forcefully.

"From what I gathered, with her screamin' at us 'n all. The people she's meetin' with saw us tailin' her. We didn't pull up 'til after she was in like you said. But they thought she was tryin' to ambush 'em and they went off on 'er. We heard gunshots and ran in. Then she held us by gunpoint and made us tell her who we were." he says in a fast and panicked way.

"You fuckin' useless wankers." he groans, rubbing between his eyes. "I told you not to fuckin' tell her who you were!" he shouts into the phone.

"She was gonna shoot us sir! She even cut me up a bit to get me to talk!" he says in a high pitched desperate voice.

"I 'ont care." he spits out. "That's what ya fuckin' hazard pay is for ya fuckin' lot 'a bellends." his voices rises and falls, knowing he was going to be met with the same fate now. "You two are back on fuckin' cleanin' duty when you get back 'ere. You understand?"

"Yes sir." he says with a sigh.

"Right. Now I gotta go deal with what you fucked up." he sits the phone done on the receiver like it weighed a ton. He shuts his eyes, takes a deep breath and rises to get his coat.

"That didn't go according to plan I take it?" Ollie asks.

"Ya got anymore daft fuckin' useless questions?!" he shouts in his face, shoving him out of the way to walk through the doorway.

Ollie shuts up and lets Alfie have his space before going back to work.

On the long drive to your place, he's left trying to figure out how to navigate this unfortunate turn of events. You would be furious. He knew that. He also knew he couldn't make you understand the reason he had men follow you in the first place. You were too precious a thing to him to lose. He wasn't going to let you get snatched up in broad daylight or attacked while you shopped at the market if he could help it. The tails had only been a way to keep you protected but he knew you wouldn't see it that way. He couldn't live without you and if he didn't do everything he could to keep you safe he'd never forgive himself.

"He's here." you hear Claire say with a heavy sigh as you're standing in the garden, fuming, thinking of all the things you wanted to scream at Alfie while you ripped him apart. You say nothing and walk briskly past her. "He's in your bedroom!" she calls out, shoulders hung low as she knows whatever is about to happy won't be pretty.

With no hesitation you move your overworked muscles towards your room, throwing your door open and slamming it shut behind you, your dressing gown shifting with your fast and certain movements. He sees your face and prepares for the onslaught coming his way.

"Genevieve I can explain." he begins, hands up in surrender as you stomp towards him like an angry bull. When you reach out and slap him open handed across his face it catches him off guard. His head stays turned, eyes wide as he processes the hit. He tried to keep his face indifferent but the pain made him want to fire back at you

"I almost DIED because of you!" you scream at him, brow low and hard, face set in a tight, furious expression as your eyes bore into him.

He turns his head, eyes shifting to you first to take you in, seeing scrapes and bruises he didn't expect. He had been told you were fine, and this was not the untouched story he'd been sold. "You should know that would never be my intention, pet." he tries to soothe you with pet names even though he knows it won't work.

"But it was your intention to lie, yes? To have me tracked like a fucking animal without telling me?" you shove him and his legs hit against the end of your bed.

"I wanted to keep ya safe, love, I-" he talks with his hands, punctuating his points.

"That's a load of shit and you know it!" you growl, leaning in closer.

"No it's not, yeah?" his voice finally rises,and your postures straightens, ready to hear what he had to say in terms of defending his stupidity. "I had them follow you to keep an eye on you."

"Because you don't trust me?" you cross your arms as your voice evens out, head tilted at him.

"Course not! I didn't want someone tryin' to snatch ya up or fuckin' trappin' ya in some fake meetin' because 'a ME." he sells the last word heavily.

"But you can lie to me? Funny how that reasoning works with you." you spit out.

"I didn't lie I just didn't tell you." he groans.

You shove him again. "You fucking horse's arse!" you shout. "So full of shit!" you ball up your fists. "Can't even take responsibility for your actions!" you look down your nose at him with digust.

"I am not ya fuckin hell cat!" he shouts back. "Come down off ya fuckin' pedestal and join the rest of us in the fuckin' real world Genny! I did it to keep you safe because there are men out to KILL YOU, RIGHT?! Because of ME! If somethin' happened to you that I coulda stopped, do you think I could live with that?!" he put his hands to his chest in defense of himself, his anger cracking to show the concern that birthed his lies.

"And I almost died TODAY because of YOU. They saw the men trailing me pull up, they asked me who they were and I didn't know BECAUSE OF YOU! They thought I was lying and I had a gun pulled to my fucking HEAD because I was left in the dark. YET AGAIN!" you scream and get in his face and he holds his ground against you.

"I ain't gonna apologize for tryna keep ya safe!" he barks.

"We've had this argument before Alfie. Don't you remember? The one where I threatened to fucking KILL you if you did it again?!" you ask with an eerie calm to your words, his chin dropping in control of his emotions.

"Of course I fuckin' remember! I-" begins with an already exhausted look on his face.

"THEN WHY DID YOU DO IT AGAIN YOU DAFT FUCKING MAN?!" you screech, shoving him. "Why must you continuously prove to me that you can't fucking listen? That you don't actually respect my abilities or my space. Because if you fucking respected me you would LEARN from your mistakes. You PROMISED me that night that you wouldn't pull this shit again and what did I tell you?" your voice is loud and has grown a crowd outside your closed door. Aggie is in tears and Claire's muscles have never been so tense.

He opens his mouth to speak and you cut him off.

"I told you not to make me regret my mercy." you snap. "And what have you done, huh?" your voice rises again.

"I'm sorry Genevieve... I-" he leans forward and thinks to reach out to touch you.

"OH NOW THERE'S AN APOLOGY!" you laugh wildly, turning from him with your arms in the air in disbelief of his actions. "I can't believe I fucking trusted you." you shake your head slowly before turning back to him. "Everyone was right about you weren't they? Don't believe a word he fucking says, they told me. And I thought you loved me and I was fucking stupid enough to fall for you and your lies."

"I do love you, Genevieve," he says with downcasted eyes and slumped shoulders. "I do love you, that's why I did it!" he states with an open mouth like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"If you loved me you would've TOLD ME!" your resolve begins to break and your lip trembles before you can turn from him.

"I did it because I can't lose you, do ya not see that?!" his voice rises, giving away his desperation.

"If you were truly worried about losing me you wouldn't have had me tailed without my knowledge. Even putting today's events aside in which YOUR actions almost got me KILLED, your actions are grounds for me to leave you." your voice cracks.

"Genevieve you don't mean-" he shakes his head slowly.

"DO I NOT?!" you scream into his face. He reaches out to touch you and you smack his arms away. "Don't you dare fucking touch me." you growl and his face winces, jaw going tight. "If I killed you it would be too obvious. So the next step down is to leave you isn't it?" you bite out. You don't believe what you're saying, not really, but you want to hurt him as much as he's hurt you.

"Don't talk like that love." he says softly, shaking his head. "I only risked doin' that because if somefing happened to you that I could've prevented I couldn't live with meself." he says, chin down and eyes lifted up to yours, voice cracking as you watch the lump in his throat grow. "I can't lose you. I didn't want you hurt. Today was an absolute fuck up on my behalf, yeah? I never meant to make you think I didn't respect you. I was tryin' to take extra precautions to keep ya safe. It did not work. I'm sorry! You have to see that I love you, Genevieve, and that's why I did it." he leans his face towards you to sell his words to you.

"And your love includes going directly against anything I've ever asked of you?" your voice is raspy, fighting back emotion, hearing the surprising softness of his own in his pain. "Why would I stay with a man who would keep me in the dark? You say you had me trailed to keep me safe but do you not see how it also leaves me to believe you don't trust me?"

"I do trust you, love. I do. That were never a part of it, yeah? It was only for extra protection."

"Then you should have asked me!" your voice high pitched.

"And your stubborn arse would've said no!" he says loudly, his face slack and eyes wide, palms up in exhaustion. "Then I would've bloody gone 'n done it anyway wunnit I?" he shakes his head. "Because as long as you're mine, I will do anyfing and everyfing in my power to keep you safe!"

"So you're telling me that you would ignore my wishes?" you say, your disgust clear on your face.

"I thought it better to ask forgiveness than permission." he admits.

"My capacity for it has its limits. You fooled me once Alfie... you don't fucking get to do it twice." you scold, leaning in towards him.

"I'M SORRY, RIGHT?!" he shouts back, arms out at his sides. "I 'ont know how else to fucking tell you I did it because I fuckin' love you and I can't fuckin' live without you so I YEAH I would go against your wishes because you aren't always right, Genevieve." he barks back.

Your mouth falls open and you glare at him. "Get out." you whisper.

"No." he says defiantly.

"Get the fuck out of my house." you hiss, fists balled and eyes trying to hide your frustration with the situation. You wanted to hurt him, you wanted him to cry and hurt. Not be this controlled man you saw in front of you. You wanted to rip him to pieces. You wanted him to learn his lesson.

"Genevieve no... please..." he says with a heaving chest, moving towards you even though you smack his hands away as they touch you.

"Get out." you begin to cry. He reaches for you, holding you tight by the arms and you whimper. "Stop it Alfie." you continue to try to push him away but in your emotional state you can't fight him off. "You don't love me. You're mad. What sort of man acts like this when he's in love?" you choke out with a face showing your hurt. "You don't love me." you bite out at him.

"I do. I'm as mad as a fuckin' hatter for you, Genny, that's why I do things like this." he says softly, trying to bring the energy down. "I can't even think straight when it comes to you, love, I think of you as mine already, you know 'is." he nods his head to drive his point home. "I know you're hurt and I'm sorry. But I would be a shell of who I am now if I lost you." he says leaning in close to your face, you see in his eyes he means it. "I'll do anyfing, Genevieve, what do you want? What do you need from me because I 'on't fuckin' know." he asks quietly, seeing your face soften but your brow stays hard in defiance.

You swallow hard, taking a deep breath. You didn't want him to be without you as much he didn't want it. You wanted him to pay though. He deserved some sort of punishment for what he'd done. You say nothing and look away from him.

"Please, Gen, I'm sorry. Let me prove it to you, yeah? I'll work to earn your forgiveness." he takes your face into his hands and when you let him he feels a weight off his shoulders. "Let me show you I only react in such a way out of love." he says softly, a kiss to your forehead that your body reacts to. "Let this make us stronger, eh? We were due for a good fight weren't we? Two people like us can't go without blowin' up from time to time can we? You're too passionate to be contained, love 'n I know you're angry but can I do anything now, in this moment, to ease it? Just don't you dare talk about leavin' me." he finishes gently, thumbs rubbing across your cheeks.

You both fall quiet, an air of desperation hangs around you. "You did it because you're afraid of losing me?" you ask of him.

"Terrified." he whispers. "Only thing I'm afraid of." he shakes his head.

You take in a deep inhale. "What would you do if you lost me?" you ask.

"Burn down the whole fuckin' city to get to whoever did it. I'd be the most miserable fuckin' man anyone ever had the unfortunate chance to meet. I'd be left to get swallowed up in my hate cause I'd lost my love, wouldn't I?" you stare into his eyes and you find nothing but honesty there now.

"Do you need me Alfie?" your voice is breathy as you shut your eyes.

"Like air." he whispers.

"And you love me?" he watches over your soft face, your chest rising and falling slower now as you speak.

"Infinitely." he answers.

"And you're mine?" your brow furrows as you ask.

"I am." You feel the warm feeling wash over you.

"Tell me you're mine. No one else's." you shake your head subtly.

He gives to your wishes without hesitation. "I am yours, my love. There is no one else in my eyes but you."

You open your eyes again and he finds them dark and dilated. You feel a power come over you, hearing a strong man like him give in. You knew what you needed from him now. "Get on your knees." you say in a clear, flat voice.

He narrows his eyes in question, side-eyeing you for a moment.

"I'm going to have you earn your forgiveness," you state slowly. "Get on your knees." you say with more a command to your tone.

He lets your face go, eyes staying locked on yours as he kneels slowly, uncertainty clear in them.

You run your hand through his hair, looking over his handsome face. "Take your coat off." you tell him gently. He follows what you ask. You rake your nails from his scalp to his neck, hands rubbing his shoulders and resting on them. "Apologize."

"I'm sorry." he says quickly.

You move back to his hair, feeling the thick softness and humming. "Do you think I'm weak Alfie?" your voice inflects upward.

"No of course not." he says earnestly.

"But yet you behave as if I am. That would make YOU the weak one wouldn't it? Only weak men try to control their women." you pout. "My Alfie isn't weak." you state harshly.

"It is not weak to admit what I need, love." he says with a deep voice, a subtle shake of his head.

You give him a subtle smile, a gentle pat to the cheek. "I'm going to teach you a lesson, Alfie. I don't think you're going to be happy about it." you purse your lips down at him. "But then again... you might." you shrug.

He takes a deep breath, starting to understand what you were doing. He wasn't sure about it but he was willing to keep his word that he'd do anything. "Do what you want. If it's to keep you I'll take it with a fuckin' smile if ya wish." he gives a confident nod of his chin up towards you.

"That's a good boy." you pat his cheek and run your thumb over his lips. "Not going to get you out of being punished though." you give a sly smile and turn from him to walk to a trunk that sat against a wall next to your armoire. You open the lid and stand and pick your nails as you hum in thought. "What to do... what to do..." you say in a melodic tone.

He watches you with curious eyes, trying to keep his face indifferent.

"Seeing as it's your first time..." you speak to yourself, reaching down to take a soft, woven rope from the trunk and a ribbon of satin. "Hurting you physically isn't what this is about." you say, walking over to him with a swing to your hips, a look of superiority on your face. "Isn't even about sex. Not really." you say with a nod, running your fingers through his hair and turning them into a fist, giving it a firm tug. "Everything in the world is about sex, except sex itself. Sex is about power." you tell him with a cold appearance, pulling his head back. "And you are a powerful man. But you're going to yield to me." you state flatly, leaning down closer to his face, hand yanking on his hair.

"I told ya, I'm yours." he answers. You could never deny that he wasn't a smart man. He could've been the smartest you knew and never short on cleverness.

"You are mine. Now get on this bed." you give a sharp nod, tugging him up by his shirt collar and sitting him down. "You're going to do as I say. You're going to listen." you bite your words at him, smacking his nose like a scolded pup. "You're going to prove to me you can. You're going to give me your power and I'm going to use you and punish you however I please. Do we understand?" you stand up straight as you speak and unbutton his shirt.

"Yes, love." he sighs out.

"No." you give a stern smack to his cheek. "No love, no darling, no pet names. You call me Miss until I tell you otherwise. You haven't earned calling me yours again. I'm not yours again yet." you speak low and concise at him, his eyes blinking rapidly to try to subdue his instincts to talk back. When he goes without speaking for too long you twist on of his nipples and he flinches. "Answer me." you loudly demand.

"Yes Miss." he grunts out, wanting to rub the spot of sudden impact but you're roughly yanking his sleeves off his arms.

"Kick off your shoes." you order, taking his shirt and picking up his jacket, laying it over the back of a chair. "Much better." you exhale out, nails raking down his bare arms. You untie the sash around your waist, letting your dressing gown fall open just slightly. You see his nostrils twitch, his eyes move down your body and you grab him firmly by the chin. "You don't get to watch me do these things to you. This body is mine, not the other way around. You don't get to gaze at this feminine form while you're being punished." you shake his chin and put the satin ribbon across his eyes. "Have you ever been blindfolded Alfie?"

"No Miss." he answers with clear disapproval to his voice.

"That's surprising," you say out loud in reflection. "Has a woman ever tied you up before?" you ask with a sweeter tone.

"No. Never wanted to be put in a vulnerable position." he forces out in a stubborn mumble.

You let out a dark chuckle at his expense. "I supposed you should've behaved and kept it that way then, hmmm? Because you're going to be vulnerable for me." you coo, bending over the bed and encircling his elbows and wrists pulled together with the soft rope. You preferred the harder, rougher rope yourself but you didn't want to leave visible marks on him after the fact. "Have you ever heard of Kinbaku?" you ask while forming the intricate patterns across his forearms.

"No." he says softly.

You bend his pinky back as he's already forgetting the rules.

"Fuckin', MISS, No. Miss." he rushes out.

"He's learning." you say in a patronizing tone. "It's the art of tight binding with rope. It's about the beauty in the art of restraint. I learned from a very knowledgeable woman during my time in Berlin." you explain, knotting his arms together, forcing his chest out and his back straight as he grunted. "This isn't some sailors knot you boys brought home. You won't be getting out this." he hears the threat in your voice. "Go ahead." you say with a humourous lilt and you stand in front of him, hands on your hips, opening your dressing gown to expose your naked body underneath. "Try." you challenge him.

He grunts, jaw tight and shoulders shifting almost falling onto his side in his attempt.

"See? Not going anywhere," you say condescend, bopping his nose. "And what good news for me." you let out a slow, deep laugh, spreading his knees and standing between them, letting your hands roam over his shoulders and down his arms slowly. "Truly a shame you have to have such an appetizing body when you have such a habit of poor behavior." you sigh and pout, fingers dragging down his stomach to the tops of his trousers. "All I want to do is love and fuck you Alfie I don't know why you can't just behave and let me do that without having to do things like this." your voice is whiny and lazy, reaching and twisting his nipples as he flinches and grunts. "Making me deny both of us. Making me take time out of my busy schedule to fucking train you like some dog." you knock his chin with the back of your hand. "And such a stubborn mutt." you scold, a smack to both his cheeks. You change your tone and touch to sweeter, lighter to begin overwhelming him. "But he is so handsome. Except for all that sneaking he's a good pup isn't he?" you run your fingers through his beard.

"I fuckin' try, Miss." he answers gruffly, his frustration evident.

"Try harder." you command, slapping his chest firmly, making him press his lips together. "If you want to keep me you'll try harder." You put your lips to his and speak. "I will not tolerate this machismo shit that you're trying to pull on me. I won't. I don't care if I fucking love you, I'll live without you out of spite. I've built my whole life around spite and don't think you're immune just because I love your stubborn arse." He feels the more heartfelt expression in your voice as you speak closely and harshly to him.

"So you would still love me?" he says softly, you back away, his lips parted just slightly as he waits for an answer.

"I will love you until the day I die, Alfie. But don't think that means you can do what you want and get away with it. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Miss." he whispers.

"You will ask me before doing these things. Even if it means a fight. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Miss."

"Because I would rather you tell me and then do it, over not telling me. It's the transparency I need, Alfie. I won't have secrets that could hurt us kept between us." you lift up his chin to your face. "It's a matter of my safety and yours now. This isn't some young love where the only effects of our lies are hurt feelings. It's life or death now. Like it was today. And we might not be so lucky next time. I know you understand that."

"I do, Miss."

"So can you promise to tell me things, even if they hurt me? Even if I want to hate you? Because if you tell me the truth I will be able to forgive you eventually. Unlike now."

"I will. I promise, yeah? I hate seein' ya upset."

"I do not need coddled Alfie. I've said this before. I am not a child, I am not naive. You tell me the bad. Not only the good. I can take it. I might scream and lash out but wouldn't you prefer that to me leaving you?"

"I'd prefer anyfing to that." he sighs out and you're touched by the soft tone.

"Then let your actions show it. I don't give second chances Alfie, and here I am. My daft, softened heart giving way for you to learn a lesson without forcefully breaking yours."

"Thank you, love -Miss." he winces and waits to be hit but it doesn't come. "I promise to keep in mind you are not a fragile little thing to keep guarded in a box."

"Is that how you truly want me, Alfie? To be a kept little porcelain figurine on your shelf with no personality, no ambitions but to sit and be beautiful?"

"No, I love that you're fuckin' mad." he shakes his head and you see a charming grin come across his face. You slap his face and it stays. He can't see the entertained look on your face.

"Don't push it you hound." he hears the amusement in your voice. "You don't want someone so easily broken do you?" you ask softly, sliding your leg up on the bed next to his.

"I do not." his voice dips low, keeping a grateful softness.

"And neither do I." you hiss, straddling his lap. "But I'm going to try to break you today." you graze your nose against his. "I'm going to tease and hurt you and you're going to do what I say because you want me happy don't you? Wasn't that what all this lying was about? To keep me happy?"

"It was, truly, love. When you're upset I feel like I've failed you somehow."

"Oh you sweet pup." you scratch into his beard. "You're going to make me very happy right now then aren't you? Be a good boy for me and perhaps I'll be good to you. IF you earn it."

"I am, Miss. I want ya to be good to me. I wanna be good to ya." he says earnestly.

"In time." you say happily, glad he can't see the smile on your face. You let your dressing gown fall behind you to the floor and press your bare skin against his chest. His chest rises and falls dramatically as he comprehends what's going on. "Now I want to tease you." you say, lifting your breasts and rubbing your hard nipples against his chest. "You can't touch me with your hands like this. All tied up like a present for me. I know you must hate that." you laugh softly. "Having to imagine what I look like, completely naked and rubbing against you like this." You lift your self and press your breasts to either side of his face and he groans, moving his face to nuzzle against them. You sit down hard on his lap and he groans in pain. "I didn't say you could do that." your voice turns darker again and he swallows loudly. "This is for me, not you." you inform curtly. You rise again, batting him about the face with your breasts, knocking his head from side to side. "You love these big tits of mine don't you Alfie?" you purr.

"I fuckin' do, Miss." he groans, licking his lips.

"What do you like about them?" you keep pressing them to his face, your arms around his head from time to time, smothering him in them and going back to teasing your hard nipples to his bare skin.

"What's not to fuckin' like? Can I be crude, Miss?" he asks.

"You are learning and I am impressed." you chirp. "You may." you give him a good scratch to the chin for his behavior.

"They're fuckin' huge, love. I just wanna fuckin' smother to death in 'em. And the weight of 'em against me is just... I fuckin' think about 'em all the time. Want my mouth on 'em to show you how much I want you. The way they bounce when I fuck you and you ride me... fuck. When you're cold at night and I pull you against me and feel those perfect little brown nipples hard against me. And fuck me, the noises you make when I suck on your tits, love, it makes me so fuckin' hard I can't think 'bout anyfing else." he lets out a long exhale.

"Keep talking like that and you'll be rewarded." you give him a single chaste kiss to the cheek. "You want them in your mouth?"

"Fuck, yes, love." his shoulders slump.

"Open your mouth." and he does as you command. "But DON'T you dare move your lips." you say, placing one of the hard peaks, tracing it around his lips and he pants, shoulder shifting as he wants to touch you. "I bet you wish those big paws of yours were free to pull me into your mouth don't you?" you purr.

"Yes, Miss" he groans.

"Too bad." you state flatly. "Stick out your tongue." you rub your nipple against the warm, wet surface and hum. "I do love it when you suck on these big tits Alfie. It makes me so wet." you whisper, a taunting smile on your face as you watch him try to not struggle against his bindings. You lower your hips down, taking them away from his mouth. "And it makes you hard doesn't it?" you state as you move your hips against his, feeling him growing beneath you.

"It does." he groans, his mouth and tongue stuck out searching for your skin.

"You want me to let that fat cock of yours out to play?" you whisper into his ear, dragging your tongue up the shell of it.

He groans with a clenched jaw. "Yes, Miss."

"So he does like this." you say cheerfully, fingers teasing under his waistband. "But have you earned getting to feel me against you?" you ask rhetorically as you rub him over his trousers.

"Let me." he rasps out.

"You're not in the position to be asking things of me." you scold, giving his hardening cock a slap and he hisses. "Just for that I'm going to tease you more." you announce proudly, making quick work of his trousers and pants and leaving him bare on the bed. "Now look at you. Not even your pants to give you any friction." you deign. "So let's make it worse." you smile, taking the blindfold off of him. "Hello there my blue-eyed dog." you give him a scratch to his chin.

"'Ello..." he slurs out, eyes looking over your naked body cause his cock to stir.

""ello?" you ask, a slap to the underside of his cock and he turns his head and winces.

"Miss. Bloody miss, 'Ello Miss." he grunts out and diverts his eyes.

"Better." you say harshly, taking your breasts again and hitting him in the face with them. His groans move from pained to pleasurable quickly as you make his pillowy lips pucker with the squeezing of his face. "Not perfect but what should I expect from a man?" you patronize and his face shows he doesn't care in the least. You pull away from him, leaning down as if you were going to put your mouth on his cock, but hesitating, letting your hard nipples graze up his thighs, dragging them up on either side of his cock, a brief wobble of your chest to tease before hitching a leg up to drag them up his chest. "Open your mouth again. Don't make me tell you not to move again." you hiss, once again tracing his lips and tongue with the stiff peaks, the contact and the power from his helplessness making you wet. "Such a gorgeous mouth, truly." you coo. "Now suck." you command. He doesn't pause for consideration, eyes closing and mouth enveloping your breast as much as he could, grunting into it, harsh rhythmic sucking, watching the muscles in his neck tense from his enthusiasm. "What filthy whispers I've heard from them. Unfortunately also what lies." you tsk and pull them away, rising off of his body quickly, leaving him with fluttering lids and an open mouth.

You turn around, looking around the room for inspiration for a moment, you hear a familiar grunt as he wants to bury his face into your peachy arse. "I hear you back there." you smirk. "You like my arse too?" you ask with a cheerful tone, placing your hands on his knees, running yourself up against his balls first then feeling him rest between the valley of your arse.

"Yes, miss." he groans, you feel his thighs shifting beneath you.

"Is there any part of me you don't like?" you laugh, bouncing yourself against him, causing him to pat heavy against you as you did.

"No, miss." he whispers, nose twitching from the contact.

"Right answer." you say, bouncing your cheeks at him with your hands underneath them, before bending over slowly, no longer touching him, letting him get a view of you. He could see the glimpse of soft hair and pink lips between your thighs as you bent, and his cock twitched at the sight, balls tightening with need. "And do you love this cunt?" you ask with a sweet tone, reaching behind you to spread yourself apart in front of him.

"Unggg Yes, love - Miss." he corrects.

"Tell me." you say, running your hands over the swell of your ass and down your thighs.

"I fuckin' love that perfect little cunt of yours, Miss."

"Good boy." you say in reward, moving to a chair that sat not far from the edge of the bed, pulling it closer by bending over and backing towards him, giving him a good view. Out of reach, but close enough to see you, you spin and sit on the edge of the chair. You caress your chest and down your thighs, spreading them, kneading the soft flesh up to your center. Hitching a leg over the arm of the chair, you begin to tease around your lips. "Have you ever seen such a pretty little puss Alfie?" you ask with a smile, fingers now pressing against your slit.

"No Miss." he groans, eyes fixated.

"Such a soft and pink little thing isn't she?" you purr affectionately, looking down at yourself, fingers sliding between your lips, holding them open for him, causing him to groan. "And expert at taking your cock."

"Yes she is Miss" he groans, licking his lips.

"You are so lucky Alfie. To get the privilege to fuck such a well cared for and maintained cunt you know? I keep her tight and soft and wet for you don't I?"

"Yes Miss you do." he whines.

You begin to rub your clit, humming in pleasure, hips starting to shift back and forth. "You want it don't you?"

"Fuck yes I do miss." he pants.

You throw your other leg up, leaning back on full display. "I can tell from that cock of yours." you grin, biting your lip and continuing to rub, closing your eyes and giving him a show, moaning and shifting, rubbing fast then slow and back again. "I'm so wet, Alfie." you moan, opening your eyes to find him standing at attention for you, your give a few firm slaps to your center and he lets out a deep grunt. "You're licking your lips, do you want a taste?" you tease.

"Yes Miss." he nods, eyes not leaving you.

You slide your fingers inside you, a showy moan and throwback of your head. You stand quickly, strutting over to him and sliding your fingers into his mouth. "Taste it." you whisper, letting him suck your fingers, his tongue lapping away at them inside his mouth and let out a content hum of appreciation. "Good boy," you say, putting the wet fingers back between your legs and moaning. "Such a good boy." you rasp, throwing your leg over him again, a strong grab and slap to his hip before you take hold of his cock and slide it against your wet center.

His mouth drops open as he swears, lip twitching at the contact before his eyes swing back up to your face.

"I feel you throbbing for it." you taunt, sliding yourself against him.

"Yes Miss." he wheezes, lips hanging open and wet, eyes looking up at you.

"Look at you, panting for it with those puppy dog eyes." you hold his cheek with your free hand, grazing your nose against him. "Would you like a kiss, pup?" you ask softly.

"Yes, Miss." he nods.

"Such a soft thing." you purr before teasing him again, licks and grazes of your lips against his before giving in after taking in his strung-out face. When you let him kiss you, he moans. A moan into a kiss was something new and you were thrilled by the arrival of the deep noise, it meant your teasing was working. You give into for a bit, kissing back with tongue and teeth as he pushed against you, starving for more contact. Not having his arms free was extremely frustrating and that annoyance was only making his blood pump faster and make him want you more.

You rise off him to stand between his legs, keeping your kiss intact before hiving him a hard, tight tug and he grunts, breaking the kiss. "Too rough?" you ask with a tilt of your head, another hard tug from the base, jerking his hips forward.

"Mmmph." he answers at first, hesitant to tell you now, fearing he might receive worse. "Yes Miss." he answers sheepishly.

"Oh he doesn't like a rough wank?" you taunt, giving him a few more and watching him wince. "Shame, that." you sigh. "Guess I'll have to be nice to this cock won't I?" you pout. "I'll need it throbbing hard to fuck me right, won't I?" you keep rubbing against him, drawing out a moan. "And I do plan on having you fuck me right, Alfie." you sigh out against his lips. The sound of his name makes him grunt, forgetting the rough grip on him already. "If you can be a good boy."

"I can Miss."

"You want to be a good boy?" you ask, letting him go, a playful pinch to his inner thighs before you turn and bend over again, reaching back to stroke him.

"Yes Miss."

"You want to fuck me?" you tease, rubbing his head against your wet slit.

He groans and shifts "Yes, miss."

"Then come get it." you say, letting him go, hands on your ankles in front of him. "Fuck me if you want to so badly." you say in a harsh, bossy tone.

You feel his legs try to move him in a way to get to you, scooting to the end of the bed but he can't get the leverage without his arms in use.

"Fuck me, Alfie. C'mon." you bounce your ass at him and laugh. "Oh can the poor pup not manage?" you pout, looking back at his red and drawn face. "Poor baby." you laugh, bouncing your ass at him with your hands. You turn back, moving quickly to straddle him, connecting in a kiss he didn't see coming. "You don't get to fuck me unless I let you. This cunt isn't yours, it's mine." you bite his lip. "But this cock." you nod and reach between your legs to wrap around him again. "This cock is mine. It doesn't go anywhere or do anything unless I give it permission. You understand?"

"Yes miss."

"Tell me it's mine." you growl

"It's yours miss." he sighs.

"And you. All of you. Is mine." you growl, rubbing yourself against him, your fingers light against the head of his cock. "Tell me." you demand, grabbing him roughly again.

"I'm yours. it's all yours Miss"

"You are mine. All mine." you coo, your switching of mean to sweet making his brow furrow as he tried to anticipate what you would do next but he didn't know and it made his heart race. "Do you want me to be yours, Alfie?"

"Yes, Miss."

"You want me to stay with you? Always? Do you want to keep this little cunny happy?"

"Yes love, please. Miss, yes."

"Do you need me Alfie?" you taut him with a soft voice.

"Yes, love, I need you. Miss." he rushes out, forgetting himself as he sees your body rising and falling in a serpentine fashion against him.

"Will you be a good boy and behave? Listen to what your misses says? Do as you're told?"

"Yes miss." he groans, voice more desperate.

"Are you going to act like the grown fucking man I know you are? Because that's what I want Solomons. A grown. Fucking. Man." you bite out against him. "I don't need a boy who lies. I want a man to face the consequences of his actions. One that will fuck me proper and love me even harder. Are you that man, darling?"

"Yes, love I am. I'll prove it to you. I love you, Gen and I'm mad about you. Let me show you, love. Let me keep you." his eyes are wide and you see the sincere feelings behind his words.

You lean in to kiss his flushed face. "Desperation for me does look so delicious in your eyes, Alfie." you kiss his cheek. "I won't leave you. You silly beast." you whisper into his ear, nuzzling against his face. "Not today anyway." you huff out a laugh. "Since you said please. And I am absolutely soaked and aching for your cock I suppose it's time to reward you for this good behavior." you run your tongue up the side of his face. "Does a good boy want his misses to fuck him?"

"Yes, fuck, please, Gen. Me balls are fuckin' purple from this, love."

"Does it hurt?" you say condescendingly.

"Yes, it fuckin' does love. I've never needed someone as badly as I do you right now." his voice is raspy and urgent and you give another lick to his lips, a happy groan from you.

"I'll let you inside me. But I'm taking what I need from you first. I'll be fucking you, not the other way around." you tap his nose in punctuation as you slide off him and onto the bed. "Come now. Use those sturdy legs." you instruct, grabbing his arms and hauling him up onto the bed. His wide eyes show his surprise for your strength and you give him a cheeky smile. You even give him pillows to let his arm lay in a less painful way as you push him down and straddle him.

Moving fast, keeping him on his toes, you slide down onto him, his head falls back and he lets out an open-mouthed moan.

"That's what I want to hear." you purr, slapping your hands down onto his chest and starting a fast pace, bouncing yourself against him, a quick slap of skin, broken with grinding down hard on him, rubbing yourself against him. "Look at me love. Watch me take your cock." you say breathily, leaning back with your hands on his legs and riding him as hard as you could. His eyes are dark and half-lidded, watching himself pump in and out of you. Eyes wandering over your thighs as they slam into him, your tits bouncing and ribs shifting under your skin as your moans grow louder.

"Fuck, Gen I-

"DON'T YOU DARE FUCKING COME!" you shout, leaning forward and slapping him hard across the face. "Don't even fucking think about it. I'm coming all over this cock first. You can't come until I want you to. This cock is MINE." you growl, pounding him as hard as you can, holding his throat firmly. "Fuck me harder and make me come, Alfie. I want us both soaked to our thighs after I'm done with you. Make me come all over that fat cock, you dog."

He grits his teeth and prays, planting his feet as best he could and using his stomach to push back into your assault on his hips.

"That's it. Fuck me Solomons." your growl continues, one hand on his chest now, leaning back and rubbing your clit. "Show me this your cunny. Make it yours. Make me come." you demand, starting to lose the fight against the oncoming orgasm. Your hips falter and your nails dig into his skin making him hiss. Your eyes roll back dramatically heading falling back as you let loud, body folding moans up toward the canopy of the bed. "Good boy. Such a GOOD. FUCKING. BOY." you growl and shout, grinding against him as you snarl, eyes fluttering back open to meet his, yours looking black against your flushed face as they glared down at him. "Now if I untie you will you make me come again? Fuck me like a good boy, hmmm?"

"Yes, fuckin', GAH let me at you love, fuckin' christ." he squirms as you laugh loudly at his desperation.

"There's my man." you lean to bite his lip before swinging your leg off of him and rolling him to his front. "Don't struggle so much, or it'll hurt more." you say, your knowledgeable fingers working against the ropes as quickly as they could. He moans and groans into the bed as the grip loosens, his fingers moving again as you watching the veins pulse underneath his flushed skin. "Come now, on your back, slowly." you say, giving him a rub between the shoulder blades.

"Fuckin' 'ell." he grumbles rolling back over.

"Let them readjust first. Eager." you smirk and rub his shoulders.

"I'm gonna make that bossy little cunny mine as soon as me fuckin' arms work." he groans, a hint of playfulness in his voice at his inability to pounce.

"Good. That's what I want. A man who can take AND give." you whisper, licking your lips and rubbing his forearms. You place his hands on your breasts. "Play with them, it'll help." you wink and giggle, and he grabs them tightly, tighter than you thought he might be able to but you loved the thrill of it. He gives one a slap. "Oh! So rough." you taunt and grin.

"Gonna show you fuckin' rough." he growls, no tease in his voice now, only need. He grabs you and slams you face first into the bed. A hard slap to your arse first, followed by another, then you hear a hungry growl followed by a hard bite to the same area.

"C'mon you big dog, fuck me." you say, getting up on your knees.

Without a word he slaps over your slit, a stinging and not playful hit. He pushes into you, only breathing and wordless noises, he had embraced the beast you'd been calling him and let it out. Having been teased for longer than he ever had before, he needed a fierce release at your expense.

He comes at you hard, your brace against the headboard, hand wrapped around the edge as his nails make tiny rivulets of blood run down your thighs he holds you so tightly. You love this urgency you feel in him, this raw need you wanted to feel. You wanted it to hurt, to be hard and bruising to fuck the anger out of you.

He slaps your arse over and over, red and welting as he grunts and growls, a hard pounding into you. He scratches his way up your back, hand gathering your hair, making a messy fist of it to yank your head back, then pounding into you as he slapped your arse and thighs and held you up by your hair.

"Yes you fucking beast, make this cunny yours, Solomons." you cry out, eyes in the back of your head and your shame nowhere to be seen. "This is why I let you act like a fucking fool. Because you can do this. This is why I let you do this because you give me what I need. You're such a good fucking boy all red and angry, aren't you?" you demand and he pushes you down on the bed, his full weight on you. "Fuck yes, take me like a fucking beast, Alfie, yes." you cry out.

"Such a fuckin' slag for this cock, little Genny." his breath hot and heavy in your ear as he lets out every bit of negative emotion against you. "You aren't fuckin' leavin' me. You can't. You couldn't live without this cock you little fuckin' tart." he slaps your cheek, hand in your hair and pressing your face into the bed. "No one's gonna fuck you betta than me you fuckin' posh little cunt." he bites at you. "You ARE mine. You'll ALWAYS be mine. Do YOU understand?" he shouts and you nod and gasp, your mouth opening and shouting as his words brought on another orgasm. "That's it, pet, fuckin' come around your beasts cock. This what you want yeah? To treat me like an animal then get fucked like one? You filthy girl." he groans and shouts, losing himself as you squeeze around him. "Feels so fuckin good, little one, such a tight cunny for me and so fuckin' wet you little bossy bitch." he slaps your arse again and you squeal, he sees the unfiltered delight across your face. "Fuck me you are fuckin' filthy. You like those crude names, pet?"

"Yes, fucking tell me how bad I am." you moan, drooling out onto the bed.

"My perfect little misses like being called a dirty fuckin' slag? Fuckin' 'ell." he moans, resting his head against your back for a moment to catch his breath.

"I'm your Madonna and your whore, Alfie." you cry out helplessly. "Take this cunt, love, fill me up and make it yours."

"Gonna." he gruffs out, holding you down by your lower back, pounding into you, bringing on another orgasm at the new deep angle. "Again? So fuckin' hungry for it, pet." he scolds, a growing growl in his chest begins, and you're swimming in your own bliss inside your head, convulsing under him and being hit hard and heavy into. "Ah, fuck, Genny. Gonna have me drippin' outta you for fuckin' days with what you caused." he barks through gritted teeth, pushing into you as far as he could, his mouth opening and letting out a loud, wanton moan that caused you to shudder against him. "Fuck me." he pants out, dropping to his elbows first then letting his body rest on top of yours. You feel his heaving against you, and you hum contently, shutting your eyes. "Alright love?" he mumbles out against your sweat-soaked skin.

"Mmm Hmm." you nod. "Perfect." you sigh out. You stay there for a little while, catching your breath, enjoying the warmth of him against you, the weight making you feel safe and secure. His words making you feel satisfied with the punishment you gave and took.

He lifts himself off of you, arms shakey as he rolls to his back, legs limp and hands on his stomach. You move with a soft grunt, although slowly. "Covers, love." you manage out, pulling them down and he grunts and groans, letting you pull them out from under him without grace and cover you both back up.

"Feel like a bath is due now with what filth that was." he lets out a deep, lazy chuckle.

"What beautiful filth it was." you sigh, snuggling against him your happy expression and kitten like mannerism such a shock after what transpired.

"You really okay with what I called you?"

"That was the best hate fuck I've ever had and if we're angry you could call me almost anything and I'd be perfectly accepting of it. I like the pain and the punishment after giving it out. Exhausts me mentally and physically. It's what I need."

"And are you worn out, love?"

"Entirely." you hum.

"So you ain't mad now?"

"Not right now no."

"Have I found a way to keep you from fuckin' killin' 'n leavin' me?" he grins.

"Perhaps." you laugh and kiss his chest. "Just be honest with me. Fuck me right and be sweet afterward and we'll have no problems."

"So if we fight... we'll just have us a good hate fuck and work it out the old fashioned way?" he smirks, eyes shut and hand stroking your hair.

"Yes, sir." you giggle.

"Oh. Almost felt me cock stir on that one." he chuckles. "Can't wait for you to be naughty and have to tie you up and you call me 'at."

"Knowing me it will be sooner than later won't it?" you laugh and look up at him, his face at rest, a soft smile on his face.

"Yes it will my filthy little girl."

@fangirlfreakingout @jaegeeeeer @cosettewinchester @lookuptheskyisfalling-blog @brianaisasongbird @cry5t4l-w4rri0r @iliveonchocolateandnetflix @jess2464 @hardygal69 @thegarrisonpublichouse @a-flock-of-angry-pigeons @pootle @negansdirtygirl22 @musingsby-night @wtf-is-wrong-with-this @shine-dont-shadow @inkinterrupted @vale0413 @lafayettes-baguettes-1 @sxlomons @aphnxrising @emerald-bijou @elaenom @give-jack-a-lightsaber @anrm1 @ultrablackwidower @tinastarkandco @arrowswithwifi @marvelgirl7 @they-are-not-just-stories @ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes

#Alfie Solomons #Peaky Blinders #Alfie Solomons x reader #alfie solomons fic #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons angst #alfie solomons imagines #alfie solomons x ofc #alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons fan fiction #alfie solomons fanfiction #alfie solomons au #peaky blinders au #peaky blinders fic #peaky blinders fan fic #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fan fiction #tom hardy

86 notes · View notes