#and Get Real is still held fondly in our hearts

[finalhaunts]

One piece of lore about me that will never make sense to anybody but those involved is that a drawing of spamton and jevil making out sloppy style put against the lesbian flag with the caption “GET REAL” for the longest time was an inside joke in an addison server I was in and we would redraw it with our ocs all the fucking time. It was an emote and every oc redraw was also an emote. Just for fun. Whenever something homosexual in nature happened in an rp we would react to the messages with a get real. If a new relationship was made canon between our ocs the top priority was ALWAYS to redraw the Get Real with them and STAT. and at some point it led to me showing the original op of the drawing and he loved all of it and now we’re mutuals

[seradyn]

Fruit of Our Labor

Summary: Tav accidentally calls Astarion ‘pumpkin’ in a moment of thoughtlessness. What follows is a gentle baring of souls neither could have anticipated.

Pure tooth rotting fluff. Set in late act 1 although the relationship is much closer to where it is in act 2, but fuck it, we ball.

Also happy Valentine’s Day, this wasn’t meant to be a valentine’s fic but I just so happened to get a surge of motivation to finish it today so here we are.

Word count: 2944

Warnings: references to abuse

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It slipped out one night, while you were all sat around the fire.

The others were busy dividing up the spoils from the day’s adventures - equipment and coin passed around to those who needed it. A hearty stew, courtesy of Gale, sat warmly in your bellies, staving off the night’s chill while packs were passed around over idle chatter. The fire crackled and popped in the center of camp, but it was drowned out by the sounds of Scratch’s excited barks and the owlbear’s deep coos. They were roughhousing, no doubt.

You watched your companions fondly from your place curled up on Astarion’s lap, held snugly to his chest in a loose embrace. Surrounded by a nest of pillows that smelled of him, you felt pleasantly warm, despite his cold skin. He held a book out in front of you both, resting his chin on your head as he read, the rustle of pages being turned soothing you. You were sure if he was still alive, you could hear the gentle thumping of his heart beneath your ear, lulling you into a blissful sleep.

The evenings you two spent together, wrapped up in each other's scents, your shared warmth, had become a balm to your taxed souls. Some days it was all that kept you going, the promise of being soothed, comforted in a way that eased your wounds, either to your flesh or to your heart. His voice was a spell, his touch an enchantment, and you found yourself unable to resist his charms. He’d made you laugh on more occasions than you could count with his silver tongue, and his deep seductive purrs sent shivers to places you dare not name. Yes, you’d fallen for him. Hard.

Yet, you knew Astarion felt much the same way about you, even if he couldn’t admit it. You heard the soft sighs that parted his lips, saw the smiles that were real, like he’d glimpsed a piece of heaven, and it sat curled in his lap. The rays of sunlight he’d come to crave couldn’t hold a candle to your warmth, his undead body soaking it up greedily every time you were close. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine being embraced by the sun, with your voice a whisper on her gentle lips. He could never get enough of it. Of you.

It had taken many moons before Astarion was comfortable displaying this much affection openly. He kept the truth of his feelings close to his breast to protect himself, and from what he told you, you couldn’t say you blamed him. In his old life, before the mindflayers, affection was weakness, caring was weakness. And weakness was unacceptable, not for Cazador. He allowed no such things for his spawn, and if he found it, it would be corrected through nights of agonized bloodshed.

So you held Astarion’s hand as he learned. He was no stranger to intimacy, to late nights spent on his back, but this…this was all so very new to him. What was to hold hands, to hug, to cuddle? He may have known once, but that had been left in his grave, delivered from him by that kiss of death. You took care to remind him it was okay to take things slow, to not jump into anything he wasn’t comfortable with. You were patient. All you wanted was him to be happy, after all. Even if you weren’t sure he knew that, or would believe you if you told him.

Despite being his beloved partner, though, Astarion was still Astarion after all, and you found yourself on the end of no small amount of teasing. He always loved calling you pet names, clicking his tongue with a smirk as he purred ‘darling’, ‘beautiful’; a spider spinning a web around his unsuspecting prey. As much as it wounded your pride to admit it, you quite liked being his prey. You offered up your neck with growing delight, stifling moans and shudders each night he fed.

He enjoyed teasing you about that, too, much to your chagrin.

You weren’t going to let him have all the fun, though. Words were easy to coat in honey, and soon the whole camp rolled their eyes as you two bantered like a love sick couple. Worst of all was the pet names, which you two shot back at each other like arrows at waring rivals. ‘Little star’ made Astarion scowl in that oh so adorable way, while ‘honey’ had him preening proudly. It was fun, it was easy, and it made the unspoken emotions between you two easier to ignore.

Until it didn’t.

Once supplies had been distributed, the camp began discussing the plan for the following day. Moonrise Towers loomed far off in the Shadow-Cursed Lands, your fates locked behind its black gates. Your group would need to pick up the pace if you wanted to arrive within the next fortnight. But Lae’zel was adamant - she needed to visit the nearby crèche, and made it clear she would venture to it with or without company. She was stubborn as a mule, and Shadowheart was more than happy to seize the opportunity to lock horns with her.

You sighed as you watched the growing argument unfold. Those two could fight over the color of the sky, and somehow it always fell to you to make them see reason. Gale and Karlach tried desperately to keep things under control, but even Wyll had no luck with them. Halsin watched with a frown on his face, but knew intervening was futile. They listened to you - you weren’t sure why, but they did.

You felt Astarion turn his head towards the commotion, pursing his lips in annoyance. Normally, he delighted in conflict, especially between Shadowheart and Lae’zel, but now that he knew it would mean your own involvement, having you snatched away ruined any enjoyment he may have found in it.

“And what does our charismatic little leader think we should do?” He whispered, hoping it would distract you from your duties. You decided to let it too, burying yourself deeper into his chest, sighing deeply his scent of bergamot and rosemary. You did not want to deal with their bickering right now. You had yet to fight off a drowsiness that crept over you while you lounged in his lap, which was the only explanation you could think of for what you said next.

“We’ll just have to see what tomorrow brings, pumpkin.”

“Pumpkin?!” Astarion stiffened beneath you, a scowl appearing on his face as the tranquil atmosphere dissolved. You blinked at the clear offense in his tone, leaning back to gaze at his disgruntled expression, worry set in your own features.

“Excuse me, darling, but what exactly do I have in common with some unsightly gourd?” He huffed indignantly. The camp quieted from his outburst, several heads turning in your direction. They were wise enough to not interfere, though.

Ah, he thought it was a comment on his appearance, you realized with a sinking feeling. Astarion was sensitive to such things, as he’d shown when you learned he’d been unable to see himself since he turned. It was something he took pride in, one of the only things he could well and truly call his own. You hadn’t meant it that way, of course, but you weren’t surprised that’s how he took it, given his history. He hadn’t been overly enthused when you commented on his lovely laugh lines, or the adorable beauty mark just below his left eye, to put it mildly, and now you’d compared him to a lumpy, often deformed fruit. Guilt poked at your heart for your thoughtlessness.

“You have many things in common with pumpkins,” you said calmly. Perhaps he could see the compliment in it yet. He flared his nostrils, but you pressed on before he could protest. “They’re vibrant, beautiful, and tough on the outside, just like you.” You booped his nose playfully. “But they’re also soft, delicious, and wonderful on the inside, just like you.”

Astarion remained tense as he stared at you, scanned you, like a hawk does the calm fields for a stray mouse. The wrinkling of his nose furrowed his brow, and it took every ounce of willpower not to lean up to kiss his doubts away. His gaze slowly began to soften, a smirk spreading across his face.

“Well, I suppose when you put it that way, perhaps we do have some similarities,” he admitted with a huff. Relief flooded your veins as he settled back into the cushions, inviting you back into his lap once he was comfortable. He looped an arm around your waist, holding you close with a gentle squeeze - a silent thank you for the unexpected compliment.

Soon it was decided; you would be taking Lae’zel to see her kin the following day. There were grumbles here and there about acquiescence to the warrior’s demands, but you made it clear she was your ally as much as any of them. With plans made and bellies full, most retired to their tents, intent on getting some rest. You found yourself settling in Astarion’s, naturally. Honestly, you sometimes wondered why you bothered to put up your own tent at all. Even your small collection of books had come to join his, stacked unorganized in a corner. You carefully plucked one from the tower, sitting down with it as Astarion continued to fuss with the various blankets strewn about.

Eventually, you felt him settle, a contented sigh parting his lips. You peeked at him over the top of your book, and was surprised to find his eyes on you.

“So…about that, little pet name…” he began, his voice a low purr. You felt your cheeks flush a lovely crimson as you lowered your book, you weren’t sure if from embarrassment or from his tone.

“Ah - I’m sorry, my love,” you said sheepishly. Perhaps he was still upset about it. “I didn’t mean to say it.”

“Oh, I don’t mind at all,” he said, catching you off guard.

He wasn’t upset?

“I only hope you’ll try to refrain from calling me such things in front of our companions,” He explained. “I do have a reputation to uphold.” Another smirk spread across his face.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at that. Appearances were very important to Astarion, and though you couldn’t say you understood it, you would respect his boundaries. “‘Course ‘Star, I’ll be more careful next time.”

“Good,” he hummed, planting a soft kiss on your temple. Your lips spread in an involuntary smile as you returned to your book, a calmness returning to the tent. Though, Astarion was rarely happy with silence, and you noticed him still hovering on the edge of your periphery.

“You know,” he drawled, ducking his head to catch your gaze. You locked eyes with him, those beautiful rubies, getting lost in how they nearly glowed in the dim light.

“You do call me an awful lot of pet names, darling. Why not settle on one?”

You lowered your book again, setting it aside to grant him your full attention. “And pass up the chance to tell you all the different ways I find you beautiful? I think not.”

Astarion seemed taken aback momentarily by your answer, before he quickly recovered, puffing out his chest and smirking pridefully.

“Darling, you’re allowed to just call me beautiful,” he said, examining his nails. “I certainly wouldn’t mind hearing it more.”

It was barely detectable, but you could hear a hint of bitterness in his voice. Your smile faltered. Astarion told you enough about his past for you to know how his looks had been twisted for his master’s use; put on display and paraded around like a beloved doll. Early on in your relationship, he had made it clear he thought your interest in him stemmed from that alone, his looks. It was all he’d ever known, all anyone wanted him for. It was natural for him to believe you were the same.

You vowed to yourself that you would always make sure to remind him that was not the reason you pursued him. Yes, he was handsome, that fact was undeniable, but it was not what led you to seek him out, what had led to your trysts that turned into something more. You made a promise to always remind him of that, no matter how long it took until he believed it.

“My love…” you said softly, the words falling easily from your lips as you grabbed his free hand and held it close to your chest. Astarion stiffened at the sudden contact, and you paused, allowing him to pull away if he so desired. He never did though, and you took that as a sign to continue, placing gentle kisses on the back of his knuckles. You had to hide a smile when you felt the tension ooze from his muscles. “There are so many things about you that are beautiful, simply saying it would be an injustice.”

Astarion’s eyes widened slightly, and they scanned you for any hint of deceit, any hint of motive behind your words. You smiled warmly at him, hoping he could see all the love and adoration you poured into it.

“I think it’s beautiful when you get excited whenever you snatch a coin purse out of someone’s pocket. It’s beautiful when you tell me about the books you’re reading, and when you pout whenever Gale opens his mouth.”

Astarion let out a sharp laugh at that. He made no secret of his distaste for the wizard.

“But most of all, I think it’s beautiful when you laugh, because I think, even for just that little moment, I get to see you happy. So yes, that’s why all the pet names. Because not one of them could fully capture how beautiful you really are.”

“Darling…” he whispered, sounding almost breathless. He sat up a touch, his hand coming up to delicately cup your cheek, his thumb gliding across your skin reverently. He leaned forward, and your eyes fluttered closed as his lips ghosted across your own. The kiss was soft and delicate, gentle in a way you knew he reserved only for you. Similarly, you hoped he could feel how much you cared for him in the way you moved your mouth against his.

When you parted, he rested his forehead against yours, breaths intermingling as you held each other close.

“What did I do to deserve you?”

His voice was barely above a whisper, and your heart cracked at hearing the pain etched into it, the disbelief. What didn’t you do to deserve happiness, you wondered, but you knew how he would respond. 200 years of luring people back to a cruel master, a cruel fate, and you knew why he had to ask.

You remembered something he’d said, when you asked him about Cazador and his past. Something that made your chest ache, like it was now.

It was about time those memories were replaced.

“You existed. That was enough for me.”

You could tell he recognized them, his own words. His eyes went wide, lips parting as he heard them echoed back at him. You smiled then, pouring all the unsung emotions into that expression. You hoped he could see it, how your heart beat for him.

And maybe he did, for he quickly pulled you into a nearly crushing embrace, burying his face in your neck. He breathed deeply your scent, your essence, holding you like he was afraid you might disappear should he let go. He couldn’t lose you now. He couldn’t. He wasn’t sure his undead heart could take it.

You returned his embrace, sighing as you felt him relax into your form. You absentmindedly began rubbing circles into his back with the pads of your fingers, tracing the outline of his scars with unconditional reverence. You liked to imagine yourself massaging away some of the pain and torment of his unlife whenever you got the privilege to hold him like this. It made you both feel a little better.

Soon enough though, your body began to sag from exhaustion, the events of your tumultuous journey catching up with you. You leaned out of Astarion’s embrace, earning a slight pout from him, but you quickly assuaged his worries by placing a gentle kiss below his ear.

“We should get some rest,” you murmured, and he hummed in agreement. You laid down across your shared bedroll, opening your arms invitingly for him. He eagerly curled up over you, resting his head on your chest with a sound almost like a purr. Your arms returned around him, one hand coming up to delicately card through his silky curls, massaging his scalp as you closed your eyes.

It was moments like these you had to bite your tongue from saying the words that had begun to echo deep in the cavity of your chest. You called each other ‘love’ in teasing, but outright saying those blasted three words still frightened both of you. Even though you felt it every time you looked at him these days, your heart soaring as easily as an eagle flies, your very veins filled with nothing but adoration. But, you knew he wasn’t ready. He was still navigating the turbulent sea of his past, his present, and the rapidly approaching future. You had no desire to push him beyond what was comfortable for him.

So you would wait. You would wait until he was ready to love you. Ready to be loved. You didn’t mind, really.

You would wait an eternity for him.

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First Astarion fic lets go. Will probably write more in the future, but will also probably focus on my long fic for another game first. Either way hope you enjoy 💕

[wileys-russo]

childhood sweethearts (3) II a.russo x reader

series playlist part one part two

this fic really does have my heart tbh childhood sweethearts (3) II a.russo x reader

alessia exhaled shakily, tapping her foot nervously as her eyes flickered repeatedly between the time on her phone and the door to the cafe, counting down each second which passed that you didn't arrive.

maybe you just weren't going to show up at all, could she even blame you if you didn't? it had been six years since the two of you really spoke, and your last words exchanged were hardly on friendly terms.

when her mum had called her to invite her to dinner with your family, her heart leapt into her throat. your name was something that hadn't crossed her mind in years, well no actually that was a lie.

alessia often wondered what you were up to, occasionally in a moment of weakness imagining what would be different had things not gone the way they had between you both.

but she'd banish those fleeting thoughts and insecurities as quickly as they arrived, knowing she'd just spiral into a tornado of overthinking if she dwelled on them too much.

alessia tried to trick herself into believing she was fine with how things had ended, pushing her real feelings deep down away and filing them under painful memories she'd rather not resurface ever again.

but they always did, and no more so then when you'd walked into that restaurant beside her brother and every thought, feeling, memory and emotion she'd repressed the last six years came soaring to the surface, she could have thrown up with how suddenly she was swamped by them.

the pain only grew when you refused to even meet her eye, greeting everyone else first and alessia was almost certain if you hadn't had to sit beside her the two of you likely wouldn't have even conversed that entire night.

"hi i'm so sorry i'm late i got held up at work." she was snapped out of the depths of her overthinking as you hurriedly dropped down into the seat across from her, exhaling heavily and dropping your bag on the floor beside you.

"that's alright, i hope everythings okay?" alessia rushed out, playing with her fingers which sat dormant in her lap as you nodded, starting to ramble on about the frustration of substitutes not doing their assigned pick up duty so you'd had to fill in.

realising you were getting on a tangent and meeting those ever so familiar ocean blue eyes you suddenly stopped, clearing your throat and apologising.

"you don't need to be sorry, you've clearly found the right career. mum was right when she said she was sure you're an amazing teacher." alessia complimented with a soft smile as you nodded, admittedly still unsure quite how to interact with her after so much time.

"so...how have you been?"

~

"-no because that time was entirely your fault! you were always getting us in trouble." you chuckled, shaking your head at the grinning blonde across from you, your coffees long finished, empty mugs pushed to the side.

"i was not!" alessia defended herself with a playful offended scoff, unable to stop the smile spreading on her face. "you so were! every single time we had detention it was your fault, and any time we got in trouble with our parents it was one of your genius ideas that lead up to it." you couldn't help but smile yourself at the fond memories.

"miss!" your head turned as you heard a voice call out for you, spotting one of your students frantically waving at you from the counter. "sorry, he insisted on saying hi. i tried to explain that you have your own life outside of the classroom." his mum smiled apologetically as the boy hurried over and she chased after him.

"thats perfectly alright. i always say if you guys see me around to give me a wave and thats what you did, charlies one of my best behaved students! aren't you?" you smiled fondly, holding your hand out for a high five which he happily gave you with a grin, waving goodbye as his mum smiled gratefully and hurried the two of them away to another table.

"sorry about that." you apologized to alessia, a slight blush coating your cheeks as the blonde shook her head. "don't be, that was quite adorable. your class clearly love you and who could blame them." alessia complimented with a dangerously familiar look in her eyes as you forced a small smile and glanced down to your phone, eyes widening as you realised you'd been here well over two hours now.

"i should really get going, i've got dinner to cook and lesson planning to do for tomorrow." you smiled apologetically, alessia nodding in understanding as you both reached for your bags. "could we do this again, soon?" the girl asked hopefully as the two of you stood outside, causing you to bite the inside of your cheek.

"look alessia it was great catching up and i'm really glad that football and everything else is working out so well for you. but i just, i don't know if i can make this a regular thing." you admitted with a slight wince, watching as her face fell at your answer.

"why not?" as soon as the hurt was plain on her face it was gone, replaced instead with a firm look of defiance, folding her arms over her chest. "you know why, please don't make me say it." you responded quietly, shuffling uncomfortably and adjusting your bag on your shoulder.

"god you are so frustrating." alessia dragged her hands down her face with a shake of her head. "whats that supposed to mean?" you were now the one to respond with a frown.

"its like i said at the restaurant y/n we were best friends for years before anything changed. we've just spent the however many hours reflecting on how good that time was, i know the way things ended wasn't ideal but why can't we just work on getting a friendship back?" alessia almost begged, taking a step toward you and frowning as you immediately took one back away from her.

"before anything changed...the way things ended? you are so arrogant, as if it was nothing!" you scoffed and shook your head in disbelief that she could dismiss what happened so easily. "that's not what i fucking meant and you know it, don't put words in my mouth." alessia warned, jaw clenching tightly.

"no i think it was exactly what you meant. at least to me alessia what went on between us meant a hell of a lot, and it hurt when everything fell apart. for god sakes we were each others first everything! i can't just go back to being your friend after six years like none of it even happened." you had to stop yourself from shouting at her, well aware that she was a public figure now and though the cafe behind you wasn't crowded, you never knew who was inside listening.

"you are putting words in my mouth. just-" "no alessia, i've spent too fucking long getting over you to fall back into the trap of caring again." you regretted the words from the moment they fell from your lips, cringing with a shake of your head.

"i need to go i'm sorry. i really didn't want to argue with you but i just-I can't do this with you again alessia, good luck with everything." you forced a pained smile, the strikers stomach plummeting as you reached out, your fingertips just ghosting hers sending a bolt of electricity up her arm at the feeble touch, hurrying off away before she could even open her mouth to respond.

~

it seemed your words had struck a chord as you didn't hear a single peep from the girl the entire week following, it had been days of radio silence between you both and you had spent the whole time convincing yourself that was what you wanted and it was for the best.

you weren't sure what alessia had said to her own mum but yours seemed to be relentless in pestering you about how catching up for coffee went, you once again dismissing that too much time had passed and it was awkward.

though the ever persistent woman didn't take the hint it wouldn't be happening again and had tried time after time to press you for more, and you'd taken to dodging her phone calls all week just to avoid the ongoing conversation.

on the bright side you'd made it through another week and you were settling in well to life back in london.

you'd found a favorite coffee spot for your much needed morning brew on the way to work, loved your new school and your class, had dinner and drinks last night with a few co-workers at a local tapas bar and genuinely enjoyed their company, you were on top of your workload and despite needing to currently dodge her you were enjoying living closer to family again.

however you were a creature of habit and so saturday nights were always your night to relish in your own company, recharge for the week and properly switch off. armed with a face mask, a chinese and a glass or bottle of wine at your side, finding some sort of trashy reality nonsense to engross yourself in for the evening.

your family knew this and knew to leave you be, your friends knew this and had long given up trying to drag you out with them unless it was for some sort of holiday or celebration, and your co-workers you'd only gone out with last night and weren't yet all that close to.

which is why it caught you so off guard for your phone to be ringing at half past eleven at night, you'd almost dozed off with a bowl of crisps in your lap, snapping to attention at the ringtone.

rubbing your eyes you fumbled around in the blankets adorning your body for your phone, eventually finding it and answering without looking at the contact, assuming at this time of night it was either an emergency or a scam.

how you regretted that choice.

"you actually answered!" you winced as a loud and very intoxicated voice slurred in excitement, holding the phone away from your ear at the unexpected volume, music pumping away and people laughing in the background.

"alessia?" "baby! what you doin?" the girl slurred and you could already imagine the dopey smile which would be plastered on her face at her words, and the way the corner of her eyes would crease as she squinted.

you grimaced at how much one simple word could cause years of healing to wash instantly away. one little baby and you were suddenly sixteen again, wrapped up in her strong arms sharing soft kisses and giggling about something that happened at school that day.

growing up alessia wasn't one to ever drink all that often given how much time and energy she invested into being an athlete. though on the rare occasions she did drink you quickly learnt the girl couldn't handle her alcohol.

she was a messy drunk to say the least and anytime a drop of alcohol passed her lips you'd abandon your own, knowing you needed to be there and sober to look after her.

"why are you calling me? and at...half past eleven at night." you sighed, collapsing back into the lounge and tiredly rubbing your eyes. "because i wasn't lying when i said i missed you." she laughed and you shook your head at her words.

"alessia you're drunk. i'm going now, please be safe." you tried to wrap up the conversation, knowing she'd likely be embarrassed about this when she sobered up tomorrow, finger hovering over the little red button to end the call then and there.

god how you wished you'd pressed it.

"wait! i'm really smashed and my friends all left me, i can't find them and i need to go home. i'm seeing double babe!" the blonde groaned and you heard a smash and some yelling, your eyebrows furrowing at the noise.

"call an uber home then, or get a taxi." you remanded firmly but softly, knowing that in times like this she needed things very clearly broke down for her.

"i don't know how! i can barely see my fucking phone screen, can you come and get me?" she continued as you withheld a groan, sharply pinching the bridge of your nose at the seemingly never ending flow of possibilities for whatever you answered next.

"where are you?"

~

"god what am i doing here?" you mumbled to yourself, insecurely playing with the strings of your hoodie, feeling incredibly under dressed as patrons of the bar you were stood outside of stumbled around with giggles and drunken cheers.

"y/n?" you turned at your name, frowning at the unfamiliar voice as your eyes finally landed on alessia, who was not alone. "oh wow it is you, hi?" lotte spoke in surprise, eyes wide as alessia cheered when she spotted you, you weren't particularly close to many of the girls football friends but that hadn't meant you'd not known or become fond of some of them over the years, lotte and ella in particular were two names who came to mind.

"baby you actually came!" alessia stumbled her way over with her heels in hand, wrenching her bicep away from lottes careful grip. she was dressed in blue jeans and a charcoal coloured knitted vest, toned arms on full display as a rolex which probably cost you a months salary glinted on her wrist under the streetlights.

you shoved her away as she placed a sloppy kiss to your cheek, but had no choice but to grab her hands and steady her to stop her from falling over right afterwards.

"i didn't know you two were..." lotte trailed off with an awkward pause of uncertainty as you quickly shook your head, smacking away alessia's hands which poked at and clung onto you.

"we're not anything. we caught up for coffee once and it didn't go well, and then she called me tonight saying she was drunk and her friends left her and she needed a lift home." you sighed at the realization you'd clearly been played, feeling stupidly gullible as you swallowed the urge to yell at the tall dopey blonde beside you who really you knew had minimal control over her actions right now.

"well she ran off for a bit when we changed bars but then we found her again, we were actually going to send her off home but we weren't sure if a taxi would even take her, she's had a few too many." lotte winced apologetically as you nodded along with a sigh, knowing exactly how the older girl behaved when she drank.

"russo has a secret missus?" a brunette with a thick irish accent shouldered her way to the front of the group, slinging an arm around lotte and you shifted somewhat uncomfortably as her eyes narrowed and scanned you up and down.

"used to, not anymore. she hates me now!" alessia rolled her eyes moodily and you winced, knowing that sober she wouldn't have likely confessed that, especially given how much the brunettes eyes widened at the new information.

"wouldn't have pegged you for the type to drunkenly dial an ex russo, i learn new things about ya every day. she's quite fit though!" the brunettes lips curled into a smile and you felt a hot flush creep up your neck.

"lay off mccabe!" alessia scowled as her arm draped over your shoulder and you grunted as her body weight bore into you, struggling to keep the taller girl upright.

"oo and you're also the jealous type are ya russo!" mccabe continued to wind the drunken blonde beside you up with a grin, another girl stepping in to drag her back to the group with an apologetic smile flicked your way.

"are you sure you're right with her? i can get her in a taxi." lotte offered sincerely, glancing over her shoulder as someone from her group yelled at her to hurry up.

"no its fine, don't let her ruin your night. i know she's ruined plenty of mine before with her drunken antics." you sighed sparing alessia a glance who scoffed and stumbled slightly as you grabbed her.

"did not!"

ignoring her you again urged lotte to join her friends, sending her a reassuring smile and bidding her a good night as you struggled to move alessia through the crowd of drunken party goers and won the street towards where you'd parked.

"for fuck sakes just get in you idiot!" you grunted as you all but shoved her into the passenger seat, clicking her seatbelt in and slamming the door shut.

"why me? why?" you looked up to the sky with a sigh of defeat, rubbing your temples for a second before moving around to the drivers side and sliding inside, wincing at the strong smell of alcohol wafting from the girl beside you.

"don't touch anything!" you swatted her hands away as she reached for the gearstick, sinking back into her chair with a huff. "you're so bossy now, you weren't this bossy before. you used to do whatever i told you!" alessia slurred with a roll of her eyes as you started up the car.

"yeah? well then it took me six years to grow a backbone. now where am i taking you?" "home." "well obviously alessia but i don't know where that is, do I?" "god can you stop that!" "pardon?" "the whole alessia thing, i hate the way you say it. call me less, or lessi, literally anything else!"

"just tell me where the hell im driving you so i can go to bed? please!" you sighed in frustration, looking at her expectantly. "fine. only if you agree to hang out with me again!" the blonde tilted her head at you, staring with half lidded eyes.

"that is not how this works. i'll kick you out right here and you can walk home!" "if i end up dead in a ditch cause you left me i don't think your mum or my mum would be very happy." "maybe not but you know what? you are no longer my problem to deal with or my mess to clean up anymore alessia. you're responsible for your own shitty choices and their consequences! like calling your ex and lying about your situation to come and get her to pick you up, and then trying to manipulate her into doing what you want." you exploded suddenly, hands balled into fists as you let out your pent up frustration at this entire messy situation.

there was a thick silence that followed afterward and you refused to look at her, feeling her eyes bore holes into the side of your head.

"god you look so good when you're angry."

you let out a groan, head thumping down onto your steering wheel in defeat. the comment took you right back again to being a lovesick teenager, alessia's blatantly charming cockiness both equally attractive as it was infuriating even back then.

"just please tell me where you live so i can take you there and be done with all of this." "um...i forget." "you forget? how the hell do you forget where you live!" "stop yelling at me i'm drunk! all i can think about is jager and vodka and tequila and-" "i don't need a walk through tour of the bar cart currently sitting in your stomach alessia. can you seriously not remember your address?" "nope." "give me your phone then, its gotta be saved in there somewhere."

you grabbed it out of her hands with a roll of your eyes when she refused to hand it over, but trying to open it was a fruitless activity as the screen remained black.

"its dead." alessia commented with a lopsided smile and you almost threw it out of your window. your fingers drummed the steering wheel trying desperately to think of a way out of this. you didn't have lottes number so that was out, and you couldn't just leave her here as tempting an idea as that was.

you didn't have any of her families numbers, you knew where she used to live with them but that was hardly close by and you didn't even know for certain if they'd moved or not, and you did not want to call your mum for support right now.

which painstakingly and infuriatingly left you with all but one option as you sighed and shifted your car into drive, pulling away from the curb.

"where are we goin?" "home."

~

"this is really nice babe!" alessia slurred as you stumbled through your front door precariously balancing the intoxicated footballer clinging onto you, kicking it closed behind you and tossing your keys on your hallway table.

"stop calling me that." you mumbled, dragging her into the living room and pushing her to sit down on your lounge as you rubbed your neck, which was throbbing from having to cart around the girl who was easily a foot taller than you, and being so drunk meant leaning her entire body weight into you.

"make me some food please." alessia demanded, head thumping back into the sofa as her eyes fluttered closed. "what do you think i'm your on call taxi driver and personal chef?" you scoffed, kicking her sharply in the leg to wake her back up as she whined at the action.

"the last thing you need is anything else in your system which could wind up on my floor later. are you sure you don't feel the need to be sick?" you asked for the fifth time this evening as the blonde nodded wordlessly.

"c'mere and gimme a cuddle baby girl." her lips curled into a dopey smile as she opened her arms expectantly, barely able to hold her own head up as your entire body cringed at the long familiar endearment.

"absolutely not, and stop calling me names. you're going to bed!" you refused, wishing the ground would swallow you up as alessia groaned.

"you're so stubborn, and so hot. i miss you!" the blonde slurred as you grabbed her hands, hauling her to her feet with a grunt and stumbling your way to the guest bedroom, sighing in relief as you dropped her onto the mattress.

"no you don't, you're drunk." you replied firmly, running a hand through your hair with a sigh. "i do! i have for years, the one that got away." alessia shrugged, arm flopping across her face as her eyes closed.

with a roll of your eyes you left her for a moment, hurrying across the hall to your own bedroom and grabbing out some clothes. she may right now be the most infuriating person on the planet but you weren't about to make her sleep in jeans.

you hated yourself for caring, why didn't you just ignore the phone earlier?

"jesus alessia." you sighed as you returned to find her with her jeans around her ankles and her vest stuck over her head, meaning you quickly averted your eyes from her half naked form.

"help! i've gone blind!" the blonde yelled and you bit your lip to stop the smile breaking out on your face, shaking your head firmly. "stop that, god you're useless." you couldn't help but chuckle as you helped her strip off the rest of her clothes, again careful your eyes only remained on her face.

"made you smile." alessia slurred with a stupidly attractive smirk, poking at you as you pulled a black baggy shirt over her head, handing her a pair of shorts which she promptly threw over her shoulder.

"alessia!" you huffed as she shrugged, mumbling something about sleeping naked as she rolled over and with much struggle managed to get into the bed.

"god you're a nightmare." you turned to leave her as a hand gripped at the back of your hoodie, firmly yanking you downwards.

"no! get off." you grunted, struggling to wrench her hand away as she attempted to pull you into a hug. "i want a hug! i'll probably never see you again." alessia whined needily as you continued to fight her.

"ohh you always did like when i touched you there." the blonde laughed as her hand accidentaly grazed your bum and your breath hitched momentarily before you pulled yourself free, shoving her back down into the bed.

"jesus christ alessia please shut up before you embarass yourself any further, the less i have to explain to you tomorrow the better." you flared your nostrils and took a deep breath, counting to three and turning away.

"where you goin?" "to bed alessia, go to sleep." "isn't this your bed?" "no this is my guest bedroom, not that i can even really call you that given i had no choice in you staying here." "you can afford a two bedroom flat on a teachers salary? wow baby you're doing good!" "please stop calling me that, now go to sleep." "can't we cuddle? for old times sake, friends cuddle!" "we're not friends." "ouch, way to land a blow babe." "i told you to stop calling me that, now please just go to sleep."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

part four

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Delicate (Superstar Chapter 4)

Sometimes when I look into your eyes

I pretend you're mine, all the damn time

'Cause I like you

Is it cool that I said all that?

Is it chill that you're in my head?

'Cause I know that it's delicate

Roy and the Reader deal with the aftermath of petty jealousy.

Roy Kent x Reader

5.9k words

Warnings: Language, some tension and innuendo, angst that made my heart hurt

~

“She’s my assistant.”

“Poor thing.”

The words kept floating in my head as I leaned against the exterior of the building, thankful that the photographers had left hours ago, not that they’d pay any mind to me. It wasn’t like I was a gorgeous model, or the ex-girlfriend of a famous footballer. Not like Brittany fucking Brett. Brittany Brett, who probably had her tongue shoved down Roy’s throat as he forgot all about nights cuddled in our booth as Rose brought us our usual drinks at the pub. Or texting each other dinner plans while Ted went off on one of his incoherent rambles in his office. Or humming “Something Good” in my ear as he passed me on the pitch. Or the dozens of little moments of kisses and touches and glances filled with fondness, all seeming to hint towards the something real that Roy had told Jamie he wanted.

Honestly, I should have known better. He was Roy "Here There Every-fucking-where" Kent. I was no one special. Girls all over England probably grew up with his posters on their walls and screamed his name at games. I just happened to be the one to share an office with the man. I probably just provided him with a fun, flirty distraction while he waited for Brittany Brett, who the tabloids more than once referred to as Roy's "one who got away". In twenty years, I'd chuckle fondly as I recounted my brief fling with Roy freaking Kent with friends at a party, maybe make a viral post about his love for The Sound of Music, and be little less than a memory to him.

I’d have to be mature. Agree that what we had was fun and assure him that I could stay professional. I was sure I could at least get through the rest of the season before sheepishly thanking Ted and Rebecca for the opportunity to be a Greyhound and asking for a good recommendation.

“Shit! There you are!”

Keeley looked wild and panicky as she approached me. I groaned, not needing her commentary on Brittany Brett, who was probably a good friend of hers from Keeley’s modeling days, sharing that Gorgeous Girl™ bond that surely trumped any burgeoning workplace friendship.

“Are you alright?” she continued. “What’d he do to you?”

I rolled my eyes at Keeley’s dramatics. “Fuck’s sake, Roy didn’t do shit,” I muttered. “He has every right-”

Keeley shook her head frantically, hair flying. “What? No, Richard. Roy’s in there ready to pummel him. I’ve got Jamie trying to calm him down, which was probably not the best idea.”

“Fuck.”

I turned and rushed back into the venue, mentally cursing Keeley for helping me find shoes that, while gorgeous with my dress, were not made for running.

The party was still in full swing, no signs of drama. I turned back to Keeley, who grabbed my hand and led me out a side door, to a smaller party room that was clearly not prepared for any guests, judging by its bright lights and lack of decorations. Sure enough, Roy, Jamie, and Richard all stood there, Roy’s face uncharacteristically expressive. Of course, that expression was pure rage.

“The fuck did you do?!” he was bellowing as Jamie did his best to hold Roy back, sputtering something about calming the fuck down, Grandpa, which was clearly not helping matters.

Richard, showing no signs of panic on his face, held his hands up defensively. “Nothing! She just said she wasn’t feeling well and ran off! She is probably just in the bathroom.”

“Bullshit!” Roy nearly broke free of Jamie’s grasp.

“Roy!” I hissed, stepping forward to grab his arm as Keeley made sure the door was closed. “What the fuck?”

He turned his firey gaze to me, his eyes full of rage. “The fuck did he do to you?” he demanded. “I saw you run out of there like your fucking hair was on fire.”

“He didn’t do shit,” I said in a rush. “I wasn’t fucking feeling good. I had about a million drinks, in case you forgot. Needed some fucking air.” I huffed, crossing my arms across my chest. “You can’t kill one of your players. If nothing else, it’s bad for recruiting.” I stared at him, trying to ignore the warmth that I felt seeing the protectiveness in his face. “Just fucking stop,” I added quietly. “Just leave Richard alone and go out there and act like you didn’t just make an absolute arse of yourself.” I turned to Keeley. “I’m sorry about this,” I grumbled. “Clearly, I’m not the only one who drank too much. If this causes any issues in the press, let me know. I’ll help you clean up Roy’s mess.” I glared at Roy, who was still behind Jamie’s arm, though no longer trying to fight his way through the player. “I’m his fucking assistant, after all. Part of my job.”

Keeley shook her head and sighed, confusion in her eyes. “No, it’s all fine. Jamie and I were able to get them in here before anyone noticed anything was amiss.” She nodded to Montlaur. “But in case anyone’s being nosy, Richard, you should head on out. Jamie and I’ll come along in a moment. That way it’s not just a big group of us coming out all at once.” She offered up a small smirk in my direction. “Though we’d probably look like we just had the hottest orgy in the history of football.”

Her attempt to break the tension with humor only worked on Jamie and Richard, who let out soft chuckles.

I approached Richard, not giving a flying fuck that Roy was watching me intensely. “I’m really sorry for Roy,” I mumbled. “He clearly misinterpreted what he saw and got protective.” I shot daggers at Roy again before turning back to Richard. “I hope this doesn’t make work… weird.”

Richard shook his head, completely affable despite the drama. “Oh please. This is nothing compared to the husbands and boyfriends I have had to deal with. Especially the ones that found me still in their beds!” He laughed amiably before glancing warily at Roy. “But perhaps I will not ask you again to dance. And, sadly, I will not give you a kiss goodbye.” With an awkward smile, he turned and walked out, the noise of the party bursting through the door before it closed again, leaving the four of us in silence.

Keeley popped her lips. “Well, that was fun.” She glanced at Roy, who was red in the face and pacing, then back to me. “You gonna be alright?” Her eyes told me that Jamie could wait with Roy if I wanted to leave with her. That I didn’t need to deal with whatever this was, and that whatever this was, she wouldn’t ask. At least, not tonight.

“I’m fine,” I assured Keeley with a weak smile. “I’ll be out there in a bit, yeah?”

Keeley nodded then grabbed Jamie by the arm. Jamie shot me an apologetic smile and landed a friendly punch on my arm before following Keeley back to the party. Once again, the room was filled with the sounds of music, dancing, and fun, before giving way to the tense silence.

Roy stopped pacing, his face now more of a pink than red, and stared at me. “What the fuck?” he asked. It was a hoarse whisper, barely leaving his lips, and his eyes were filled with question marks.

“I could ask you the same thing,” I countered, perching myself up on one of the empty tables that dotted the room. “Why the hell were you trying to kill Montlaur? I know you think he’s prickish and all-”

“Because he’s a fucking prick!” Roy practically shouted. “And-and I told you I thought he was a prick to ask you out because we all know exactly what he’s interested in and then I turn and see you fucking clinging to him and suddenly you’re running out of the room looking like you’re about to fucking cry, what the fuck am I supposed to think?”

A hollow laugh escaped my lungs. “No. Back the fuck up, Roy. What happened between the dancing with Montlaur and the running out of the room?”

Roy stared at me in silence for a moment, his shoulders slumped as the gears in his head turned. “The fuck are you on about?”

“Okay.” I slammed my hands on my thighs and stood back up, making my way past Roy and towards the doors. “That’s how it’s going to be then. I hope you enjoy the rest of your night. Lookin’ forward to seeing photos of you and Brittany Brett’s reunion in The Sun tomorrow. See you Monday.”

Roy reached out and grabbed my arm, his grip firm but tender. “Is that what this is all about?” His voice was as soft as his face, thick eyebrows raised. “Brittany fucking Brett?”

Apparently, I hit my boiling point. “Of course it’s about Brittany fucking Brett, Roy! Fuck! You spend weeks all over me, taking me out, singing along to the fucking Sound of Music at my place, you practically tell me you want me to be your date to this shit next year, you make me feel special, like I matter to you, and then you turn around and kiss your ex-girlfriend.” I pulled out of Roy’s grasp and crossed my arms. “Which, I mean, that’s your own damn business, I guess. You’re single, after all. She’s single. So, go. Be hot and rich and famous together.”

A deep frown twisted Roy’s face, his eyebrows more furrowed than I’d ever seen. “Single?” he repeated, practically spitting out the word. “You think I’m single? I’m not fucking single.” He shook his head earnestly. “I… I haven’t considered myself single since….” He glanced up at the ceiling and shrugged. “Well, fuck, since we kissed at your parents’ house surrounded by all those fucking posters of me.” He looked back down at me.

My breath caught in my throat as I gazed into those brown eyes that stared at me with that familiar anxiety swimming around. “Then… then why’d you kiss her?” My mouth felt dry as I prayed that the next words out of Roy’s mouth would magically fix things.

He shook his head earnestly. “No, no. I didn’t fucking kiss her.” He sighed and placed a tentative hand on my arm. “She kissed me. And I immediately pushed her off me, which you fucking missed apparently. Told her I’m seeing someone that I really like. And that even if I wasn’t- which I am,” he clarified tugging me closer when he realized I wasn’t fighting him, “-I wouldn’t want fuck all to do with her.” He looked down at me. “Don’t you remember what I told you on our first date?” His voice was barely above a whisper. “You’re the only person that has ever made me feel like you want me.” He scoffed and nodded towards the door, towards the party. “How d’you think Brittney Brett made me feel? Like I was some fucking accessory, this thing that would get her photo in the press more if I was next to her. You would never make me feel that way. It’s one of the many, many things I adore about you.”

“Oh.” I looked down at our shoes, blinking as I turned Roy’s words over in my head, my stomach and heart doing flips that Olympic gymnasts could only dream of.

“Oh?” Roy dipped his head. “That’s all you’ve got? Oh?” A hint of a smile graced his lips. “Come on. Put me out of my fucking misery here.” His arm wrapped around my waist. “Tell me… tell me we’re okay,” he whispered.

His eyes were still full of that anxiety, but now it was mixed with hope as he bit on his bottom lip, waiting for me to answer. I gulped, my head spinning from the alcohol and the events of the evening and whatever woodsy cologne Roy had on that I knew he was wearing just for me.

Roy sighed, his hand tracing gentle circles on my back. “Or we could go out there and enjoy the rest of our evening, and we can come back to this tomorrow?” He leaned his head against mine. “Come on, I’ve got some dopey surprise for you. Been looking forward to it all night. Real fucking romantic.”

I lifted my head. “You’ve got a surprise for me?” The corners of my mouth turned upwards in spite of myself. “A romantic one?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed, tapping his nose against mine. “So why don’t we get back out there before Keeley tells everyone we’re shagging in here?” He squinted at me. “Unless…”

Now completely smiling, I smacked Roy’s arm. “Come on. I want to see this surprise.” I slipped out of Roy’s grasp and took his hand, leading him towards the door. Just before I reached for the doorknob, Roy pulled me back to himself. “What?” I laughed, the weight on my chest dissipating.

“Just gotta do this first.” His hand cupped my face and he leaned close, pressing his lips to mine for the first time that evening. His grip on me tightened as his lips parted slightly, allowing me to taste the beer he’d been drinking all night. In the back of my head, I thanked Keeley for her high-end, smudge-free lipstick that would hopefully not create an obvious mess on Roy’s face.

When we parted, Roy smiled at me. As if he could read my mind, he hummed, “Am I wearing your lipstick now?” In response, I simply wiped away the small spot of red that I had left on the edge of his mouth, then shook my head to confirm that he was good. He studied my lips carefully. “Alright. If we don’t go out there now, we might never leave.”

He opened the door and gestured for me to lead the way like a gentleman, keeping a friendly distance as we rejoined the festivities.

“Alright, Kent,” I started over the music. “What’s this surprise?”

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked the time. “Should be happening in about three minutes,” he mumbled. “Why don’t we grab a drink?”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “Only if I can come to the bar with you,” I teased dryly, hoping it wasn’t too soon to joke.

His dramatic eyeroll assured me it wasn’t. “Come on then.”

As we walked to the bar, we passed Jamie and Keeley, who both eyed us curiously. Roy gave them a curt nod and I shot Keeley a small thumbs up, assuring her that all was good. I knew she’d either corner me later in the night with cheeky accusations or call me the next day demanding details of what had happened in that room after they left, but for now, all I wanted to do was be with Roy.

Once we were settled at the bar, drinks in hand, I turned to Roy. “Alright, what’s the surprise?”

He shook his head. “Nope. You’ll know it when you hear it.”

“Hmmf.” My gaze turned to the dance floor, where our friends and coworkers were moving to the admittedly great band, having a blast. I couldn’t help but smile as I watched them and enjoyed my drink. “D’you ever dance at this thing?”

“Not if I can fucking help it.” His eyes wandered to the stage, where the band was wrapping up their song. “But I might have to make an exception tonight.”

I took another sip of my drink. “What do-”

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the band’s singer, a woman with dark, wild hair and a flowing dress, called out, “we had an anonymous request earlier this evening that we are thrilled to fulfill. We hope there’s some Julie Andrews fans out there.” She plucked at her guitar, creating a familiar dreamy tune.

“Perhaps I had a wicked childhood,” she sang. “Perhaps I had a miserable youth.”

I turned to Roy, my mouth slightly ajar. “The Sound of Music. Was this you?”

He shrugged, placing his half-finished beer on the bar and taking my glass from me. “Do you see any other Captain von Trapp-ish grumps around here?” He took my hand and nodded towards the dance floor. “Let’s go.”

My heart hammered as Roy led the way. I wondered if everyone could see the flush covering my face, even in the dim lighting. On the dance floor, Roy kept my hand in his, placing his free hand on the small of my back while mine rested on his shoulder. He kept a respectable distance, not exactly a professional one for two coworkers, but nothing anyone would bat an eye at. Not that it mattered; I could not care less about anyone else around us. Not Keeley and all her teasing, not Richard and his flirtatious ways, not even Brittany Brett. All I wanted was to be close to Roy and feel his warm breath on my cheek as he quietly sang the words to Something Good in my ear.

~

The rest of the night was miraculous and wonderful. Roy assured me that I could dance with other people without him throwing another fit- so I did. I danced all night as Roy watched. He laughed with Keeley as Jamie and I attempted to do the robot together and smiled as Dani Rojas twirled me around and clapped as Sam Obisanya dipped me dramatically and rolled his eyes good-naturedly while Ted held my hand in an attempt to teach everyone some square-dancing moves. After a particularly fun salsa with Isaac McAdoo, I approached Roy back at our table, who held out a glass of water to me.

“Having fun out there?” he asked, taking a sip of his beer.

I nodded. “An absolute blast. My feet are killing me though.”

“Guess I’ll have to fucking carry you home,” Roy joked, the fondness in his eyes telling me that he wouldn’t mind one bit.

“Looks like it,” I agreed with a smirk.

The band’s singer called for everyone’s attention. “We hope you’ve had a fabulous time tonight,” she began. “But unfortunately, it’s time for us say goodnight. On behalf of Rebecca Welton and everyone at A.F.C. Richmond, thank you so much for joining us and for all your support and generosity. Here’s one more song before we go.”

I turned to Roy. “Are you ready to head out then?” A small part of me was hoping for some alone time before calling it a night.

To my surprise, Roy shook his head. “Did you really forget? You promised me the last dance.”

I laughed and downed the rest of my water. “Were you serious about that?”

“Dead fucking serious.”

He grabbed my hand and stood, pulling me up with him. He kept my hand in his as he led me to the dance floor, giving it a small squeeze as he pulled me towards him. He placed his free hand on my waist, just as he had earlier. But now he pressed me close to his chest, definitely closer than two platonic, casual coworkers should be.

“But don’t forget who’s taking you home and in whose arms you’re gonna be, so darlin’ save the last dance for me,” the band sang.

“Are you alright?” Roy asked, leaning down towards me. “Tonight…. Didn’t exactly go the way either of us had hoped.”

“No, it did not,” I agreed, wincing slightly. “But I think we did a good job of salvaging things, don’t you?”

He nodded. “Believe it or not, even with almost killing Montlaur, this is the best fucking time I’ve ever had at this thing. Mostly because I didn’t get auctioned off like a fucking basket of fruit.” The corners of his mouth tugged upwards. “And because I got to spend time with you.” He somehow managed to pull me even closer, close enough so I could feel his heart beating. “Not nearly enough time though,” he added. “And I’m sorry about that.”

I shook my head. “We’re okay,” I assured him. “At least, I hope we are.”

“How about we talk tomorrow?” he offered. “We’ll have a good night’s rest and be sober, and we can talk about whatever shit we need to talk about.” He squeezed my hand. “How’s that sound?”

“I… think it’s a good idea.”

“Good.” He cleared his throat. “Thank you, by the way.”

I tilted my head in confusion. “For what?”

“Saving the last dance for me.”

~

Roy walked me up to my apartment, his suit jacket having been wrapped around my shoulders since we left the venue. We paused at my door, the way we had for weeks now. He smiled down at me in that same way, softness in his eyes, lifting his hand to touch my hair.

“Well, I’m just glad the night didn’t end fucked,” he chuckled.

I rolled my eyes. “You sure know how to end a date.”

“This was a date then?” he asked, eyebrows raised in amusement.

“Eh.” I shrugged. “Depends, are you going to kiss me goodnight?”

His mouth was on mine in less than an instant. He pulled me tight against himself, one arm completely wrapped around my waist as I pulled him down to me by his tie. His tongue grazed my mouth, asking permission. I obliged, tasting beer and a hint of the chocolate cupcake he’d shared with me towards the end of the night. His hand that was still tangled in my hair tugged a little, trying to pull me closer to himself. We were a tangle of lips and tongues and hot breath and soft moans, neither of us caring about the possibility of someone seeing us.

I pulled back mere centimeters, just enough to whisper, “You want to come in?”

Roy gave a little groan, pressing his forehead against mine. “I want to. I definitely fucking want to. But I think we should say goodnight til we talk tomorrow, yeah?” He stroked my cheek, a deep sigh escaping his lips. “Want to make sure we’re on the same page about things.” He paused, his thumb ghosting over my bottom lip. “Come over tomorrow. I’ll make you dinner.

The disappointment I had felt a moment ago melted and gave way to delight. “Roy Kent can cook?” I teased, fiddling with his tie.

He smirked with pride as his hand rubbed my hip. “Fuck yeah, Roy Kent can cook.” He kissed my lips, pulling away as my mouth chased his. “Tomorrow then?”

I groaned and buried my head in his chest, drunk off the drinks and Roy’s kisses. “Fine. Tomorrow.” I looked up at him. “One more for the road?” I purred, giving my best pout.

“You needy thing,” he chuckled, planting one more kiss on my lips before pulling away with finality. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he promised.

~

My mobile went off as I was lounging in bed late the next morning, smiling at Roy’s jacket draped over my bedroom door. I picked up the phone, my mind still back in front of my door, where Roy’s kiss had made my knees weak.

“Hello?” I answered, my voice dreamy.

“Alright, what the fuck happened?” Keeley’s squeals brought me back to reality.

I scrambled to sit up. “Morning Keeley!” I choked out, hoping I sounded breezy and casual. “How’re you? You have fun last night? Does Jamie remember doing the robot with me or was he too sloshed?”

I could practically feel her roll her eyes through the phone. “Oh no, we’re not playing this game. You owe me all the details about what happened with Roy last night. Spill.”

“Nothing!” I blurted, probably a bit too quickly. “We talked. He told me he thought Montlaur did something to hurt me and got protective. I mean, we share an office, we see each other every day, I kind of get why he’d be protective of me. Plus, you saw how much he drank, he probably doesn’t even remember what happened.” I cleared my throat. “So, we’re good. I’ll probably talk to him on Monday about apologizing to Montlaur, but other than that, I think we can all just forget what happened.”

“What about all the dancing?” Keeley challenged. “Roy never dances at the gala. Even when he’s brought a date, he’s good for maybe one dance. He danced with you what, like four or five times?”

I scoffed, flopping back onto my bed. “We danced twice,” I corrected Keeley. “As friends.”

Keeley hummed. “Oh, so you counted?”

“Shove off, Keeley,” I groaned, eyeing Roy’s jacket again. “Can’t you just accept that Roy and I are friends? I mean, shit, that’s headline enough.”

“Friends huh?”

“Yes!”

Keeley cleared her throat. “Then did your friend Roy Kent say anything about Brittany Brett? I’m desperate to know what happened there.”

My cheeks burned; I was hoping to forget that Brittany Brett had been at the party. “Nope. Didn’t say a word,” I said shortly. “Don’t know a thing.”

“Aw, babe,” Keeley clucked. “No need to be jealous. That’s long over from what I’ve heard.”

“’m not jealous,” I grumbled. But damn, I couldn’t resist the bait. “What have you heard?”

Keeley gave a small giggle. “Why don’t you come over tonight for a good old-fashioned sleepover? I can give you all the gossip like we’re little schoolgirls. We’ll throw on our pyjamas, get tipsy, sing some Spice Girl songs, crank call Jamie. Fuck, we can even go play knock-and-run at Roy’s place. Maybe we’ll catch a glimpse of him shirtless.”

Damn, this woman was a great friend. “Aww, Keeley, I’d love to hang out,” I started. “But I’ve got plans tonight.”

“Next time!” she gushed, unbothered. “What’s up tonight?”

“Oh, just some family stuff. Nothing too exciting, I’m afraid.”

Keeley gave a small hum. “Maybe brunch tomorrow?”

I nodded into the phone. “Sounds great.”

We stayed on the line for a few more minutes, making plans to meet for brunch at one of Keeley’s favorite places and agreeing that she should invite Rebecca to join us. After a couple more attempts on Keeley’s end to find out any dirty details about what happened between me and Roy, we hung up. Sometime during the call, I’d received a text message from Roy:

Can’t wait to see you

~

Of course Roy Kent’s house was huge. Of course it was. Sometimes it was easy to forget that the man was a retired football star. But standing in front of his house- mansion, practically- I was reminded all over again that this was the man on all those posters in my parents’ house. Roy “Here-There-Everywhere” Kent.

I stood tentatively in front of his door, debating if I should ring the bell or just send him a text to let him know I’d arrived. As I debated my choices and played with the hem of the dress that suddenly felt too short and too dressy, the door opened. Roy stood in the doorway, wearing the black slacks and shirt he’d been wearing on our first date. His eyes took their time eagerly traveling up my figure and to my face, where they settled tenderly.

“Fuck,” he whispered, cracking a full smile. “How’d you manage to look more gorgeous than you did last night?”

My face burned at the compliment. “You don’t look too bad yourself,” I answered, trying to sound casual as he ushered me in. “How’d you know I was here?”

“Got some sensor shit on the door,” he explained matter-of-factly as he closed the door behind me. “I dunno, Beard set it up for me. Man’s fucking paranoid.”

“Hmm.”

That was all I could manage as I took in Roy’s house. It was spacious, airier and lighter than I expected. I smiled as I recognized photos of his niece and sister everywhere, as well as an older man I assumed was his grandad.

“Sorry I don’t have posters of you all over the place,” he teased, taking my hand to lead me to the kitchen. “Could you believe they were sold out of you at the administrative-assistant-poster store?”

“Oh yeah, I’m really popular,” I played along as Roy pulled out a stool at the kitchen island for me to sit on. “Let me know if you want my autograph.”

He turned to the stove, stirring something in a pot. “How much d’you think I could get for it on eBay?”

“Enough to buy a nicer house. Sorry to break it to you, Roy, but this place is a regular shithole.”

Roy practically choked on his laughter. “Oi, now you’re getting personal.” He turned and faced me. “I’m really fucking glad you’re here,” he said softly.

My blush returned. “Me too.” I sat up to take a good look at the stove, trying to see what smelled so delicious. “Need any help?” I offered.

“Fuck no. You just relax.” He nodded towards a fully stocked bar in the adjoining dining room. “Drink? Or have you sworn off alcohol after last night?”

I shook my head. “I’ll take a drink,” I assured him.

Roy crossed over to the bar, pressing a kiss to my bare shoulder as he passed me. When he returned, he placed two drinks on the island, the same one I ordered every time we went to the pub. He then served dinner and laid one of the bowls in front of me.

“Beef tzimmes,” he announced, sitting across from me. “My grandad used to make this for me when I was a kid. First thing he ever taught me how to make.”

I could feel my eyes light up as I took my first bite. “Shit, this is good!”

“Glad to know Phoebe’s not lying to me then,” Roy muttered as he began to eat his own bowl.

We ate comfortably, drinking and laughing and sharing jokes, as if nothing had transpired the night before. It felt like every other time we’d hung out; comfortable, relaxed, but charged with the attraction we shared. God, it was good to know that we could still be like this.

Roy cleared the bowls and left them in the sink before helping me out of my seat. “Wanna go sit outside? We can have our chat.”

My breath caught for a moment as I remembered why I was there in the first place; a serious talk awaited us. Roy placed a reassuring kiss on my forehead and grabbed our drinks, leading me out to his patio. I settled in a loveseat while he turned on a set of string lights.

“My sister made me get these,” he grumbled as he joined me, handing me my drink.

“She has good taste,” I remarked as I leaned back.

Roy snorted. “In fucking lights, maybe. In men…” He bobbled his head, making a face. He caught my unsure expression. “Sorry. You didn’t come here to listen to me rant about Phoebe’s shit dad.”

“Not this time,” I joked, trying to break the tension.

He leaned back, laying his arm around my shoulders. “So,” he started, his face suddenly serious.

“So,” I repeated.

Roy took a deep breath. “I’m sorry again. Really fucking sorry.” He turned his body to face me properly. “I’m sorry for trying to kill Montlaur. I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions and not talking to you. And I’m really fucking sorry you had to see Brittany Brett kiss me.” He shook his head and looked at me with those anxious eyes. “D’you forgive me?”

My heart tugged gently in my chest. “Of course.” I laid my hand on Roy’s thigh. “I’m sorry for screaming at you. And for trying to make you jealous. And for making you apologize to Richard.”

He frowned, confused. “You didn’t make me apologize.”

“No, I was saving that for Monday.”

“Fair enough.” He rested his free hand on top of mine. “Why’d you get so jealous?”

I shifted in my seat. “I mean… have you seen that woman? She’s literally a model.”

Roy shrugged. “So’s Keeley. You didn’t seem to care when she danced with me while you and Jamie did what I can only assume was an attempt at the robot.”

“Keeley’s not your ex,” I pointed out. “Brittany Brett is. And she was hanging all over you, and oh yeah, she kissed you.” I paused, letting my words sink in. “And I just don’t get why you were talking to her,” I admitted. “You say you want nothing to do with her, and that she made you feel like shit, so I don’t know why you would hang out with her at the bar.”

“No, that’s fair,” Roy agreed. “See…” He tilted his head back, thinking. “We went out during this really fucked time in my life. I was already starting to realize that I was passing my prime. And I was starting to get fucking scared that I’d never be a superstar again. And being with this internationally known model allowed me to pretend that I would be a hotshot forever.” He paused. “And then she dumped me for someone who was actually in the prime of their career. Which, obviously, felt fucking great.” He wrinkled his nose. “And I guess seeing her for the first time since then brought back some of those feelings of not being good enough anymore. And I guess I wanted to show her that I’m doing great.” He squeezed my hand. “Really great since I started seeing you.” He let out a growling sigh. “And once she started flirting, I think some part of me wanted to reject her this time,” he admitted. “But it absolutely wasn’t worth it seeing how things turned out.” He cleared his throat, looking down. “That’s some stupid shit, eh?”

I quickly shook my head. “I mean, it still hurt, but I get it now.” I paused, giving the ground a small kick. “I didn’t really appreciate the whole ‘she’s just my assistant’ shit though.”

Roy let out a dry chuckle. “Also fair,” he conceded. “Sorry about th-” He stopped, thick brows creased. “Wait, how’d you know that?”

“I may have been eavesdropping,” I muttered. “That’s about the point where I felt really shitty and dragged Richard out on the dance floor to make you jealous.”

“Hmmf.” Roy stared at me thoughtfully. “Can I ask you something?” I nodded. “D’you consider yourself single?”

I blushed, remembering the way I had yelled at Roy the night before. “Not really,” I admitted. “I haven’t even thought about another guy since the first time you bought me kebabs for lunch.”

“And I told you last night, I haven’t thought of myself as a single guy since that night at your parents’,” he reminded me. His fingers drummed on my shoulder. “I think the problem is, we didn’t think of each other as not being single.”

“What d’you mean?” I asked; Roy was talking in circles.

He shrugged. “I mean, I don’t think either of us would have been so fucking jealous if… if we both knew we’re both not single.” He glanced up at the string lights, face twisted in uncertainty. “Is that right?”

Something in my brain clicked. “Roy, are you asking me to be your girlfriend?”

“Don’t talk like we’re fucking thirteen behind a Tesco,” he snarled. “But yeah, sure, however you want to fucking call it.” He leaned close, eyes searching mine. “I just want you to know I’m yours. That’s all. And I’d like to know that you’re mine. Because if we know that, then all the other shit- ex-girlfriends and stupid French pricks- none of it’ll matter. Because we’ll know how we feel.” He shrugged. “What d’you say?”

I closed the distance between us, pressing my lips against his harshly, desperate to show him how heartily I agreed with him. “I think it’s a damn good idea,” I mumbled against his mouth.

[nach0]

MCYT Yuri Week; Day One - Dance/ Break

"Are you taking notes on our date?"

Wordcount: 1504

AO3 Link

It’s not often Pearl and Gem get the chance to relax and take some time away from things. It should have been nice, and by all accounts would’ve been, if only Gem could stop stressing for five minutes.

(Featuring art at the end!)

Gemini Tay, Grand Wizard of the Crystal Cliffs, was proud to say she was good at social interaction. It’d be disappointing if she wasn’t, after all the time she’d put into studying the cultures of each and every important person she’d ever have a chance of interacting with.

It was like a test. A constant, neverending test that she had to pass or else she’d start a war.

But she definitely wasn’t on edge at all! Large formal events totally didn’t make her nervous in any way! In fact, one on one interactions should probably be a breeze in comparison.

Courting wasn’t something she’d ever bothered to study. The Crystal Cliffs historically hadn’t held any close alliances for more than trade, the previous Grand Wizards emotionally detached by design. She’d thought herself the same, even after the Wither Rose Alliance was formed. It was the most involved the Cliffs had been in hundreds of years. Still, romance was something she hadn’t considered. It involved too much trust, too much vulnerability, for her to ever picture herself wanting.

That lack of foresight left her cramming every book on romance she could get her hands on five minutes before her very first real date with Pearl.

Apparently they’d been on ‘dates’ before, quiet moments stolen away in the midst of the chaos that was their lives. Pearl had mentioned a stargazing date fondly, leaving Gem thoroughly confused. It had been entirely spontaneous, she hadn’t even dressed up or planned anything, and it didn’t line up with anything she’d learned about how dating worked.

Not for the first time she wished there were more books on Helianthian culture. Maybe it would help her understand the distinction between ‘date’, ‘hanging out’, and just ‘chilling.’ She still wasn’t sure if they were all separate things yet. Maybe she could ask? But then it would reveal how little of her girlfriend’s kingdom she knew, then Pearl would get offended and break up with her, then leave the alliance, then the Cliffs, Mythland, and the Grimlands would all be without food and everyone would starve.

She was spiralling again. It was thoroughly unproductive.

None of her books were helping anyway. They were all about formal courtships, something Pearl had laughed about with her before-

“Now I get the intent,” she’d said, giggling slightly as she put the sunflowers into a vase. “But he would have had to buy these from my empire to gift them back to me.”

“Traditionally, it’s considered a sign of respect to give things of the courtee’s empire. It shows an interest in the culture they come from, and a willingness to compromise and combine their own culture in the process.”

Pearl rolled her eyes with a smile and Gem quickly closed her mouth, a long honed instinct from accidentally finding herself on the edges of people’s patience, but she got the odd impression that Pearl wasn’t annoyed at her.

“All this courting stuff has its place, but it’s not for me. If I find someone I want to go out with, it’d be nicer if it was natural. And if I don’t… no big deal. I’m happy with what I have. Besides, I know my type.”

Gem’s heart quickly found its place in her throat, thumping so loud she was surprised Pearl couldn’t hear it. “Can I ask what that type is?”

“I can say for sure it’s not-” Pearl squinted at the note, “-Brad from Mythland. Sorry buddy, better luck next time.”

They both laughed, and the matter was dropped.

-or wild, whirlwind romantic fantasies that moved so fast she had to put them down before uncomfortable bile rose in her throat. The thought of jumping into anything without preparation, but especially something as deep and personal as romance, made her nervous. She could handle spontaneity, liked it at times!  But there needed to be trust there first, a baseline to deviate from. Would Pearl try to move too fast for her? Would she say anything against it even if she did? There was no script for her to work from here, no guide to where normal boundaries lay. She was going in blind for the first time in a very long while.

Then a knock at the door signalled her preparation time was up.

“Gem?” Pearl called through the wood, amusement already creeping through her tone. “Did you lose track of time again?”

“No, I’m ready!”

She ran a hand down her shirt to clear all but a few methodical wrinkles, enough to seem casual without looking sloppy, and nodded once in satisfaction. The heavy wooden door opened for her with ease (and she definitely didn’t use magic to make herself seem more impressive.)

“Wow, you look… really nice.” Was Gem imagining the blush on Pearl’s cheeks? She had to be, especially as her voice quickly picked back up into fond teasing. “I didn’t know you even owned any casual outfits.”

The outfit could be considered casual. If one didn’t know the quite frankly overkill amount of thought Gem had put into it. Muted colours to give off a softer feel, an inversion of her regular layers as a symbol she wasn’t acting as a ruler but instead herself. Amethyst around her neck and hanging from her ears both for power in case of an emergency and a reminder of her empire’s resources. Her gloves were, admittedly, mostly just because she wanted an excuse to wear them. But to anyone that asked she could easily pass it off as a combination of the two of them, the stars and moons pattern conveniently fitting. She liked her regular gloves, the leather preventing any distracting textures, but it was nice to make a change every once in a while. 

“I’m full of surprises.” Gem smiled, looking Pearl up and down. She could analyse what it meant later, when they had a quiet moment, but for now they had places to be. “You look pretty as well.”

“Don’t I always?” She flipped her hair, tied up neatly in a braid that made Gem’s breath skip, turning her nose up for a moment before the act broke down into laughter. “Come on, I know you have a schedule for this. Lead the way.”

~

In Gem’s opinion, the date was going pretty well. She’d hit all her talking points and had genuine discussion, Pearl had laughed at her jokes, and she’d learned much more than she’d expected. They were taking a break while their horses drank from a nearby stream, Pearl leaning against a tree and Gem leaning on Pearl. 

It was nice. It was peaceful. It was very abruptly interrupted by the scratching of Gem’s pencil that was so much louder than she’d anticipated.

Pearl cracked an eye open and glanced down at her. “Gem?”

“Mhm?”

“Darling?”

“Yeah?”

“Person I adore more than anything in the world?”

“...Yes?”

“Are you taking notes on our date?”

Gem blushed, ears pressing against her head in embarrassment. She should have been more subtle, or just tried to remember everything she needed to know, even if it meant she’d have less energy to spend on concentrating on what was actually happening, she should-

Pearl pressed a kiss to her head, carefully avoiding her antlers.

“It’s cute, fawn.”

“I just want to get it right,” she muttered, picking at the fabric of her gloves. “I haven’t done this before, before or after becoming Grand Wizard. It’s all complicated and there’s no rules to fall back on if I get lost.”

Pearl hummed gently and unfurled a wing, wrapping it around Gem at her silent nod.

“We just came out of a war with a demon. No one expects you, or any of us, to readjust instantly. If you wanna put this on pause, catch your bearings a bit, I’ll get it. Just tell me, yeah? Don’t get trapped in that head of yours.”

She moved to tap her forehead but pulled back at the last second, humming gently instead. Her gaze didn’t hold any expectations, just a gentle patience and a warmth like the sun.

And oh, Gem remembered why she fell for Pearl in the first place.

“I don’t want to stop. It’s just… a lot. Sometimes. Not that it’s your fault!” She hurried to add. “Rules are just easier to work with, knowing the limits and expectations.”

There was no judgement. The world didn’t collapse, no one mocked her admission of weakness, and Pearl didn’t immediately rescind all of Helianthia’s resources.

It was… a little disorientating, if Gem was being honest.

“That’s ok. We can figure out what works together. I don’t mind if you write your notes or want to set guidelines, so long as it’s not hurting you. Don’t sacrifice what you want for me or anyone else.”

She pulled her ever slightly closer, and the wing around Gem’s shoulders was more comforting than any weighted blanket she owned.

“For today though, let’s just enjoy this break from the chaos. We’ve earned it.”

For once, Gem couldn’t agree more.

(if my laptop messes the colours of this up i'm going to explode btw ^^)

also i know i had a taglist but it's been like a year since i last used it so idk if anyone still wants to be tagged, i'm down for starting it up again though

@mcyt-yuri-week

[clockwork-freminet]

Freminet's Relationships!

PLATONIC

Lumine - Freminet (@viatrixtravels) - friends ★★★★☆ She is one of the very few people that Freminet feels completely safe around, not to mention how much he admires her abilities and kindness. But despite that, he's very intimidated by her. Due to how much he looks up to her and how willing she is to make him feel comfortable, there's always that voice in the back of his mind that creeps in to tell him that it's only a matter of time until he says something stupid that messes it all up, and she ends up disappointed in him.

Lyney - Freminet (@tis-i-lyney) - family ★★★★★ Let's be real, Freminet loves his siblings with all of his heart. He often sees himself as the antithesis to Lyney, and they have their arguments. But despite that, his brother means the world to him, and he's never held anything against him. He tends to have difficulty coming to Lyney with his grievances, however; which tends to be the main subject of their arguments. Both of them want the other to come to them with their troubles... but neither will come forth with their own.

Lynette - Freminet (@the-greatest-assistant) - family ★★★★★ Once again, a given. Freminet loves his sister just as much as he does his brother. Lynette often tries to comfort him when he feels inadequate and talks about how he's always the one they rely on whenever she accidentally breaks something. But even despite his sister's comforting words, Freminet wishes he could do more than just that.

Blaze - Freminet (@blaze-lightflame) - acquaintances ★★★☆☆ Freminet thinks Blaze is overall a kind and well-meaning girl. Although he still admittedly has trouble keeping up with her sometimes, he has no problems when he spends time with her, and she isn't necessarily overwhelming for him. He would love to hear her play the cello.

Sunny - Freminet (@sunny-outclaw) - strangers ★☆☆☆☆ No hard feelings! They've just never had a proper one-on-one conversation, and the only one they have had was when Sunny accidentally interrupted him at a bad moment and it ended very quickly. Besides that, they've only ever interacted by proxy of other people. Once again, however, he wouldn't be opposed to getting to know them more.

Eira - Freminet (@ask-eira-blanc) - friends ★★★☆☆ Eira was the one who got Freminet a brand new 'safety box' for him to hide in when his previous one was no longer viable, and he automatically respects her for that. Not only that, but she's also gone out of her way to comfort both him and his brother, Lyney, in the past. He greatly appreciates her, and wants to learn more about her as a person! She is absolutely on his mental list of options for people to go to if he's having a problem.

ROMANTIC (age-appropriate only) (The multiple characters in this section have a romance with Fremi in different "timelines", he doesn't have several partners at once)

Lyn - Freminet (@ask-lyn-n-estrella) - crush ★★★★★ DORKS DORKS DORKS DORKS DORKS. Something clicked within Freminet recently, and now, he feels much less anxious around Lyn than he did previously. He still overthinks and worries, but he no longer feels his throat close up when he tries to speak to him, and no longer worries about every little thing he says and every little action he takes. He feels genuinely comfortable when with Lyn, and he'll forever appreciate that.

Chunhua - Freminet (@ask-astris-celeste) - partner ★★★★★ Freminet greatly appreciates Chunhua's company. Not only does he feel totally comfortable and safe around him, but he also finds him reliable, and his mind rarely wanders with worry when speaking to him. He remembers the ball in Snezhnaya that Chun helped him pick out an outfit for, and where he later spent most of his time during the feast right by Chunhua's side very fondly.

(If you want to be added to this, let me know! Can only be added if our characters have interacted at least once. Doubles are allowed, since everyone portrays their muse differently. This will also be updated frequently with new RPs involving the muses listed, as Freminet's opinions on people can change! :3)

[kellyscowboy]

꒰✧ᯇ✦꒱ BROOKLYN RED

ᯇsummary ! ✦ in manhattan they'd call it a sin, but race's wearing brooklyn red for him ᯇpair ! ✦ spot conlon x racetrack higgins (livesies) || inspired by Tennessee Orange by Megan Moroney & these (one) (two) posts by @crystallized-twilight ᯇvienna’s thoughts ! ✦ uhhh i definitely think this could be better but i just wanted to get it out of my drafts tbh LMAO. i swear the next piece or writing will be better :') 1249 WORDS © 2023 , 𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐰𝐛𝐨𝐲

"Racer!" Spot groaned. "I give up. Ya ain't never gonna learn the damn song."

Racetrack smiled and took a drag from his cigarette. "Well, I like the teacher betta than the lesson anyway."

"No amount of flattery can make up for how badly ya butchered our song," Spot laughed. He continued to speak, but his words were lost in the night.

The lights on the Brooklyn Bridge gave Spot a certain glow. One that made his skin look like that of an angel. Racetrack couldn't help but stare as he watched the boy laugh. He wanted to listen to Spot, he really did, but how could he listen to him when he was so beautiful? He tries his best to focus, but who could if Spot was sitting in front of them looking like a gift from God?

Race wanted to tell him every one of his thoughts. How Spot's laugh was probably what Heaven's trumpets sound like, how gorgeous his eyes were-

"I mean, honestly, how do ya mess up the wor-"

"Red's definitely your color." And he winced because that was definitely not what he had meant to say. It didn't even begin to cover half of what he was thinking.

Spot smiled and cocked an eyebrow. "Red's Brooklyn's color, Racer."

He groaned, "I just meant- It looks good on you. Like, really good. Ya look heavenly right now. You sure you're real?"

"Pretty sure. Speaking of red," Spot shoved his hand into his selling bag and pulled out a crumpled shirt. "I know you'll always be Manhattan, but... I thought, maybe, you could play Brooklyn sometimes too?"

Race moved to grab the shirt and exchanged it for the one he had been wearing. He scoffed, mostly at himself. "God, the boys would kill me if they saw me wearing this."

"Ya still ain't told anyone 'bout us?"

"Have you?" Race snapped, slightly defensive.

A beat.

"No." Spot admitted as he adjusted his hat. He crossed his arms, defeated and grumpy. Race slumped down with him, he intertwined their fingers and let his forehead bump into Spot's neck.

"I didn't mean to snap at'cha." He sighed. "I just- I don't know how to tell ''em that the Spot Conlon—the one who left us for dead during the strike (hey!)—is my sweetheart. Hell, how am I supposed ta tell 'em you got me wearing Brooklyn red?"

Spot rolled his eyes. "I did not leave you for dead." A shrug. "You're all still alive, aint'cha?"

Race smiled fondly and rested his forehead against the others. "Yeah, I guess we is."

"I'm glad you are," Spot whispered. Then he straightened himself and pushed Race an arms-length away, and held him there. "Because if you weren't I woulda never seen how good you look playing Brooklyn."

He laughed and shoved Spot's cap—which was really his own; he had been sporting Spot's actual cap ever since the time they went to the racetracks—over his eyes. "Don't forget it's just playing. I'm only Brooklyn in your dreams."

"Damn right."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Race flipped the shirt in his hands over and over again. He stared into the deep red that felt so much like home that it almost made him sick to his stomach. God, if anyone saw his damned red shirt. It was just a stupid shirt, but holding it in his hands felt like treason.

"Hey, Racer. Haven't seen ya in a while; where ya been?" And his heart dropped into his stomach as he rushed to crumble up the shirt and shove it under a blanket. Jack threw his hat onto a random bed before addressing him again. "Woah! Ya good, Racer? Ya look like you'se a ghost or somethin'."

"I'm alright. Hey, uh," it's now or never, "I've gotta tell ya somethin'. But- Listen, you can't tell the other guys, they'll probably kill 'im."

Jack's eyebrows furrowed, concern flooded his expressions. He leaned against a bed frame with his fists clenched. "Did someone hurt ya, Race? Did'ya mess with some dame and her fella got at ya?"

He couldn't help but laugh. "I'm fine, Kelly. Seriously. You've taught me better than that. Kind of."

The strike leader all but sighed with relief, then sat down on the bed across from Race. "So, what'dya need to tell me? What, ya done sellin' papes or something?"

"No, no. I'm still sellin' papes. I don't got enough money ta quit." He paused. "I might've... met someone."

Jack smiled, crossed his arms and leaned back in amusement. "And?"

"And... he's really good to me. He's got these eyes and they're... they're so blue that it's almost scary. Ya know the kind? He holds doors open for me, stop laughing. And he ain't made me cry yet. Which is saying somethin' for him." Race was looking down at his hands, a stupid smile beating the embarrassment to his face. "He ain't from 'round here, but he still- He still feels like home, ya'know?"

"I know the feelin'. Who's the fella?"

Race looked up, only to meet Jack's eyes just for a second. "Ya can't tell the other fella's, Jackie. I mean, they'd probably call it a damn sin-"

"Racer, come on. They ain't like that-"

"No. Not 'cuz of that, not 'cuz he's a guy. 'Cuz he's..." Race sighed and dragged a hand over his face. "He's got me wearing Brooklyn red, Jack."

And to that, Jack let out a long sigh.

"I know! Brooklyn ain'tcha best friend. Hell, they ain't no-one's best friend." Race started to grin a little again. "He, uh, he took me out to the bridge last Saturday."

"Oh, so that's where ya run off to. To betray us." Jack teased. He even reached forward and gave Racetrack a playful punch to the shoulder.

Race's smile was back in full force. "Anyway. It wasn't nothing like 'Hattan, but nothin' ever will be. But man, I'd like to personally thank whoever made the lights on that damn bridge. Ain't neva seen someone look like that. He looked like a damn angel."

"Well, I can't say I'm not disappointed-"

"I'm sorry Jack. It's just... man, I like him a lot. I'm even learning that stupid Brooklyn chant."

Jack laughed. "Race. I'm not actually disappointed, I'm just messin' with ya. But everyone looks better in 'Hattan colors. Can't deny that." He stated, pulling at his own shirt.

"Obviously. But that smile he carries with him makes ya forget all that. I mean, the grin he had when he made me try on a Brooklyn shirt; made me think I should only ever wear red for the rest of my life!"

Jack grinned and shook his head. "Well, well. Neva seen you so smitten over someone. So, what? Ya Brooklyn now?"

Racetrack laughed. "Never. Not even Spot's smile could make me crazy enough to leave 'Hattan."

"Ya fella's the Spot Conlon? Man, you ain't dating a fella from Brooklyn. You're basically dating Brooklyn itself!"

"I know."

"Listen, Race. Manhattan's gonna loves ya. Even the traitor part of ya." Jack leaned forward to grab Race's shoulder. "If you're happy, we're happy."

Race let out a sigh of relief.

Like a tidal wave, the rest of the newsboys poured into the lodging house. Jack gave the other boy a wink━a promise of secrecy━before he reached under the blanket, pulled out the Brooklyn shirt, and jumped up to wave it in front of the crowd. "You guys won't believe who Racer's swoonin' over!"

"Jack!"

~

[holylulusworld]

A dream comes true - Kinktober 20

Title: A dream comes true

Square Filled for @spnabobingo​​​​ (Round 6): Breeding Kink

Kink: Pregnancy Fetishism

Ship: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Summary: You let Dean’s dream come true.

Warnings: a hint of angst, language, overprotective Dean, cuddling & snuggling, fluff, nesting, pregnant omega, horny dog Dean, breeding kink, light smut, Dean’s PoV, violence, blood

Word Count: 913

Divider by @firefly-graphics​​​​​​

Kinktober 2021

<< Part 1

Dean’s PoV

“I said, keep your hands off my mate,” Y/N whimpers in distress behind me. She hates it when I get into a fight. 

Months ago, she would’ve stood her ground and punched that douche’s face, but she’s heavily pregnant and mated to me. It’s my job to protect my omega, our pups and I won’t back down. 

“She looked my way. What can a man do if a nice piece of omega is ready to get bred again,” the bastard dares to smirk at me, eyes still glued to my mate behind my back.

“Don’t you have no shame? Going after a pregnant omega!” I growl like a feral animal, try to make the grinning alpha see he doesn’t stand a chance against me. “Get out of my face or I swear.”

“Alpha,” my mate’s soft voice reminds me I cannot get aggressive right in front of her. “Punch his ugly face,” Y/N says, and I chuckle. Any other omega would’ve held me back, but my girl cheers for me.

Before the guy can open his mouth again, he’s missing three teeth and spits blood. He struggles to stay upright, swaggering slightly when I take another step toward him.

“Not so cocky anymore, huh?” I’m usually not the kind of guy making fun of a weaker opponent but, the alpha had it coming. I push him away from me, making sure there is enough distance between him and my mate. “Stay away from my omega.”

“Dean,” I can hear a low purr leave my omega’s lips and wonder if she got aroused watching me punch that sonofabitch’s face. She wraps her hand around my wrist, squeezing hard. My omega is still freaking strong, a fighter like me. “Let’s go home. You fought well and won. My strong alpha.”

“Your strong alpha,” I watch my omega place my hand onto her huge belly. She smiles fondly, eyes filled with so much love when she looks up at me. “Only yours.”

“Only mine,” she breathes, pressing a soft kiss onto my lips. I smile back, remembering this is not the dream I didn’t want to leave.

This is real. This is my wife filled with my babies. This is my life now…

“Sweetheart, look at you,” I run my hands up and down her back while my hips slam into her at a pace making her mewl loudly.

Damn me, she’s so beautiful, sexy, and arousing while being pregnant. 

I mean, my omega is sexy and beautiful all the time to me but since she’s pregnant I can barely keep my hands to myself. It drives me crazy that she’s filled with my babies, round and beautiful. 

Y/N glows, her eyes shine, and … Who am I kidding? For the longest time, I imagined getting her full of my pups and marking her pretty neck. Now that she’s finally mine, and full of me, it’s like I’m hard all the time.

“Gonna breed this sweet cunt again…and again…and again,” I slow down a little, try to be gentle, even though, it’s hard to control myself while being inside of her perfect little pussy. “So, fucking good for me. I love to fill your pussy with cum. I will fuck another baby into you when they pop out of you.”

“OH fuck,” she comes with a curse and my name on her lips. Her warmth squeezes me tightly, milks me dry, making me moan loudly. “Dean, so good.”

“Yeah?” I laugh at her comment, but run my hands gently over her back, teasing her with featherlight touches. “How good?”

“Good enough to let you fill me up again, alpha,” she looks over her shoulder, smirking. “I mean we shouldn’t waste your cum.”

“Naughty little omega,” I growl, hands pawing at her hips. “I will fill you so good, Y/N…”

Hours later I’m still wide awake while Y/N is fast asleep. Her head rests on my chest, her right hand placed onto my heart as so many nights before. 

Most of the days I cannot believe my dream came true. That Y/N is here, in my arms and pregnant with my children. 

We are going to be a big happy family soon, and to be honest, Inside I'm scared.

Hell, I'm terrified. 

But sometimes, all an alpha can do is to put on a brave face and pretend he doesn’t fear any monster he hunted years ago will go after his family, his wife … his children.

“Dean?” Y/N whispers, lifting her head to look up at me. “You need to sleep, alpha. I am safe with you, we are safe. This place is the safest in this world. Sam and Cas are out there too.”

“I will sleep later,” I peck her hair, smiling when she takes my hand to place it onto her swollen belly to let me feel our babies kick. “Sweetheart.”

“Dean, we got out of business two years ago. No demon, monster, or entity tried to go after us since then. We are careful, do not stray too far, and always keep an eye open. Now sleep, alpha,” she demands, poking her index finger into my chest. “Our nest is safe, alpha.”

“Yes, it is,” I nod, smiling at my mate. “Sleep, Y/N. Our babies will keep you awake if you do not rest now.”

She falls asleep moments later, seeking my warmth once again.

I don’t tell her I will watch over her sleep a little longer, to make sure they are safe…

Tags in reblog.

[heytherejulietx]

stay - richie tozier

↳ a/n just a cute little drabble i wrote because i was bored :)

↳ content warnings - swearing, aged up.

↳ 1.1k word count

↳ masterlists

@violetblvd @mikewheelerc @bucky-j-barnes @whaddyameann @justanotherkpopstanlol @amberritonicole join my tag list

she felt the bed move beside her and frowned, pressing her face further into her pillow. richie always moved around so much in his sleep it got kind of annoying. he kicked her once in the middle of the night and she had a bruise on her shin for a week. he had apologised profusely, and of course she didn’t blame him one bit. even if it hurt like a bitch. especially when eddie poked it as soon as he saw it the following day. bastard.

richie wasn’t actually supposed to be there. y/n’s parents didn’t exactly know how close they were, so in turn they didn’t know that richie tozier slept under their roof in their daughter’s bed most nights of the week. in the late evening, when it was an acceptable time for y/n to escape to her bedroom underneath the premise of going to sleep, she let richie into her bedroom through her window. and early enough before y/n had to be downstairs, richie left after getting changed into clothes he kept there and met her by the front door. if her parents asked he had walked up to their house to walk y/n to school.

a foolproof plan. at least they hoped so, anyways.

the bed jolted slightly again after another moment, and she felt it dip beside her. richie needed to stop moving or else she was going to kick him. on purpose that time.

“doll?” fingers pushed her hair out of her face with a gentle drag and she pouted into the pillow, wanting nothing more than to curl up into a ball and sleep for longer. “hey, i need to go.”

as she finally registered richie’s whispered words she frowned, and scrunched up her eyebrows a little as she rolled over onto her side to look up at him. it took her eyes a few moments of blinking to keep them open, and even then richie looked slightly blurry for a good minute or so.

“sorry, you can go back to sleep for a bit if you want.” richie’s hand fell against her cheek and she leaned into the touch gladly with a content sigh. until she frowned again when she realised he was already dressed in a graphic t-shirt he kept at her house and his jeans from the night before, ready to go. his glasses sat across his nose, making his doe eyes seem even bigger than usual. and his messy mop of curly black hair fell in front of his eyes slightly. small curls fell in his face and she had the urge to run her fingers through his hair, as she knew how soft it would be to the touch. if not for the fact that he was just about to leave her, she’d smile at how pretty he was.

“no, stay.” y/n mumbled as she pulled her hand out from underneath the covers and grabbed onto his arm. her delicate fingers wrapped around his wrist and she felt the warmth of his skin underneath her touch. she’d give anything to be cuddled against his warmth right then.

“as much as i’d love to, since i know you can’t resist me and i hate to disappoint, i have to.” richie tapped the end of her nose with his finger, and in response she scrunched it up slightly.

“no please, don’t abandon me.” y/n whined and she heard richie chuckle as she let go of his arm and instead tried to wrap her arms around his waist.

“i’ll see you in like ten minutes downstairs.” richie teased as he planted a kiss on her forehead.

“yeah but we won’t be in bed.” she huffed, and heard richie snicker as he kissed her cheek. she could feel his warmth and smell his cologne as he leaned in and held onto him tighter, almost pulling him completely on top of her.

“y/n i really need to go,” richie chuckled as he placed a hand on the bed beside her to hold himself up over her. “i’ll get here extra early tonight so we have more time in bed. although i don’t think sonia will be too happy that i’m cutting our date short.” he snorted and she rolled her eyes.

“fine, leave me then.” she huffed and frowned, though y/n couldn’t help her growing smile as richie leaned in to kiss her. his lips were soft against hers and she felt better with his body pressed against hers. if she just held onto him a little tighter maybe he wouldn’t be able to get back up. though as he pulled away he winked at her and pulled back before she could try and even hold onto him.

“to be continued this evening.” he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and she fondly rolled her eyes.

“just be careful getting down?” y/n asked softly as she gestured in the direction of the window. ever since he’d started sneaking in she was terribly worried that he’d fall from her window.

“always am, toots. i’m as agile as a cat, don’t worry.”

“yeah, a cat with no legs.” she retorted and he dropped his grin to playfully glare at her.

“you know, for someone who wants me to stay you’re being real fuckin’ mean.” richie scoffed, though still leaned down to give her another kiss regardless, which caused her to smile a little again.

“i’ll meet you downstairs, ‘kay?” richie whispered in between kisses. he left one final exaggerated smooch against her lips and pulled away, smile lines creasing under his eyes as he grinned.

“okay.” she sighed and nodded, reluctantly letting him go as he stood up properly again.

richie walked over to the window and pulled it open carefully. he swung one leg over the windowsill and turned to face y/n again, smirking. “i hate to leave you, my darling. i will see you again soon my lovely.” he announced with his free hand over his chest, the terrible british accent of his making a return. granted, it had gotten better over the past few years, but it still sucked.

“okay,” y/n giggled, hugging the covers over herself as she looked at her boyfriend. “i love you.”

“i love you too, see you in a sec.” richie gave her one last heart-warming smile before he swung his other leg over the windowsill and lowered himself down. she could hear the thud as he hit the floor, and as she didn’t hear a yelp in pain afterwards she assumed that he was fine.

another sigh left her lips as she rolled onto her back, frowning as she pulled back the covers. the previous comforting warmth she had escaped and she could feel the cold of the room biting at her bare legs. time to get dressed, as reluctantly as she wanted to.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Twisted 28 - Sunlight [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A.N.: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves! Here’s the next chapter, I hope you will like it as well, and please let me know what you think of it! ❤❤ Ily, kisses! ❤❤❤

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Murder, serial killers, violence, manipulation, mentions of sex, drinking, smoking, hospitals, medicine.

Word Count: 4400

Summary: Survival makes people stronger.

Everyone’s voices were so muffled that for a moment it felt as if you were under water. It came and went just like the warmth, just like the comfort—

One moment there, the other moment far away, and anytime you tried to reach through that haze, you were pushed back into the numbness.

You could swear at some point your father was there too. You were still at the cabin, in that dress, sitting across from him by the chessboard, and then back at the weekend house where your sister was chasing you around the piano, your mother calling out for you to stop running, then someone pushing you into the lake by the cabin before it changed again and your father handed you a knife.

If this is hell, I’d like to talk to the manager.

But eventually, it all came back to you. There was this heaviness on your hand, your chest and ribs hurt terribly and your forehead kept stinging as you tried to open your eyes to meet the bright lights of the hospital room.

Ah. You weren’t in the woods anymore.

You had made it after all.

The constant beeping of the machine caught your attention for a moment before you looked down to see Spencer’s head resting on your hand, his fingers entwined with yours. Your mother was by the couch, her eyes fixed on the ceiling with a crumpled tissue in her hand and Mina was resting her head on her shoulder.

“Mom?” you rasped out and your mother’s eyes whipped to yours, Mina sat up and Spencer’s head shot up.

“Oh thank God!” your mother jumped out of her seat to come to your beside and pressed a kiss on top of your head, making you wince. “Oh thank God you’re okay…”

“Hey,” Mina wiped at her eyes and cleared her throat, “Welcome back brat.”

You smiled and turned to Spencer who was still holding your hand tight, watching you with bloodshot eyes.

“I know,” you said, “No eyeliner right?”

A small sob mixed with laughter rose from his throat and he pressed your hand to his lips, swallowing thickly.

“Hi.”

“Hey professor,” you tried to smile but you were in too much pain to do so, “Is there like…a morphine button or-?”

“I’ll go get the doctor,” Mina rushed out of the room and closed the door behind her, and your mother pulled back.

“How do you feel honey?”

“Like I crawled out of hell,” you said, “Is- is everyone okay?”

“Everyone is fine.”

“Where’s Lily?”

“With Kenzie and Nolan, outside.”

You let out a breath and turned to Spencer.

“You figured it out?” you asked, “The note?”

“Ophelia, yeah,” he sniffled and nodded fervently, “Cabin by the lake, we were on our way there when—” he stopped talking as if remembering it was way too heavy on him and you squeezed his hand.

“How did I….” you looked between them, “Survive? Erica shot me.”

“The helicopter,” your mother said, “We sent it with a medic and a sniper just in case.”

“You sent a helicopter with a medic and a sniper?” you repeated, “Mom, that sounds like a joke.”

“Well I’m glad you find it funny,” your mother wiped at her eyes again, “Because you’re grounded for the rest of your life.”

“Okay,” you shot a look at Spencer, “Ignore this.”

“No, not even your boyfriend can help you right now.”

“They still like you, no worries,” you explained and he shook his head slightly, reaching out to touch your cheek as if trying to prove to himself that you were real.

“I thought—“ he started and blinked back the tears, gritting his teeth and you rubbed your thumb over his hand.

“I’m fine,” you said and lifted your head when the thought hit you, “Wait what happened to Lincoln?”

A shadow crossed Spencer’s eyes and your mother flexed her fingers as if she wanted to throttle someone upon hearing his name.

“That monster is currently handcuffed to a hospital bed,” she said, “But not to worry, we put ten guards in front of his door, and I will make sure to ruin his life myself.”

“He survived?”

“Barely,” Spencer said through his teeth but before he could say anything else, the door opened and a doctor stepped in. Even you could hear Lily’s very loud protests, Kenzie trying to shush her and you smiled slightly before turning to the doctor who was checking the file in her hand.

“Hello Y/N,” she said cheerfully “Nice to see you awake, for a moment you had me worried we wouldn’t get to meet. So, we have head trauma, a bullet wound, broken ribs and blood loss. Were you trying to fill out a bingo of dangerous injuries or…?”

“Go big or go home doc,” you nodded and she raised her brows.

“Should I put in a psychiatric evaluation in here as well then?”

“Yes please,” your mother pinched the bridge of her nose and you heaved a sigh, making a face.

“Pain?”

“A lot.”

“Let’s see what we can do about that,” she said and Spencer stood up.

“Can I see her chart please?” he asked and she took almost taken aback before showing him the chart.

“I’d like to change these two meds,” Spencer said and started listing off his suggestions while you watched him with a smile on your face.

“Spencer,” you said, “Please let the nice and smart lady do her job.”

The doctor grinned at you, “That’s alright. Is there anything you would like to ask me?”

“Two questions. One, when can I go home?”

“We’d like to keep you under observation for a couple of days, depending on how fast your body shows progress to heal.”

“Okay. Can I smoke here?”

“Oh Jesus Christ,” your mother threw her head back, Spencer just stared at you and the doctor blinked a couple of times.

“Since this job taught me never to take any question as hypothetical,” she said, “I’m just going to answer it. No, under absolutely no circumstances are you allowed to smoke here.”

You curled your lips, “It was worth a try.”

“We’ll give you some really good painkillers, don’t worry,” she winked, “I’ll let the rest of your family in and see you later.”  

She walked to the door and opened it, and soon enough Lily rushed inside but as soon as she leaped at you, Kenzie caught her mid-air like a troublesome cat.

“No, what did I say outside?”

“But mama—“

“It’s okay Kenz. Hi bug.”

Kenzie gave you a teary eyed smile and slowly set Lily down, and she hugged her teddy bear before taking a step towards you, nibbling on her lip.

“Does it hurt?” she pointed at the stitches on your forehead and you tilted your head.

“Just a little, sweetie.”

She carefully put the teddy bear beside your bed and grinned at you.

“Mr. Chocolate Chip Cookie will be your friend here,” she patted the teddy bear’s head and you let out a small laugh.

“I really appreciate it bug, thank you,” you said and held the teddy bear in your lap before you turned to Nolan. “Hey man, thanks for the helicopter.”

“Thanks for the almost heart attack,” he replied and fixed his bowtie, “You keep me young with all this panic and adrenaline. Honestly Y/N, never do that to us again, please.”

“I’ll try my best not to get kidnapped by a maniac again,” you stated, “Besides, mom already grounded me so…”

“Good! No jet for you for a while young lady.”

A nurse came in to inject the painkiller into your IV, and you smiled at the sight of your family fondly, then cleared your throat.

“Hey, not that I didn’t miss you guys,” you said, “But um…can I talk to Spencer for a moment?”

Kenzie and Mina exchanged looks and Kenzie lifted Lily up.

“We’ll be right outside,” she said and walked to the door. One by one they left the room and your jaw dropped when you saw Mina squeezing Spencer’s shoulder before she left as well.

“Well, something changed,” you commented and Spencer came to pull a chair next to the bed before he reached out to hold your hand.

“She was the first one to talk to me when we landed,” his voice still didn’t sound so strong and you frowned.

“What did she say?”

“Go there and bring my sister back.” Spencer said and ran a hand over his eyes, “Based on the profile, I thought he’d already—“ he couldn’t even finish that sentence before he kissed the back of your hand, “I thought I lost you.”

“Nah, cigarettes will kill me, not serial killers,” you reached out to push a curl out of his eyes, “I thought you knew that. All looks and no smarts, aren’t you?”

He scoffed a shaky laugh and you licked your lips.

“What happened there?” you asked, “I heard gunshots after Erica shot me, is she—“

“Dead,” Spencer nodded, “She was shot right there.”

You could feel the goosebumps on your skin, “And Lincoln?”

“I was going to kill him,” Spencer said, “If I got there first, I would’ve.”

“Spencer you don’t mean that.”

“I do,” he told you, a dangerous light gleaming in his eyes, “I do mean that.”

You heaved a sigh, now easier thanks to the painkillers, “Yeah well, I guess I know the feeling.”

“Um- the team is outside as well by the way,” he said, “Luke and Garcia has been here the whole night, and I’ve been instructed to tell you, word by word, no amount of pastries will excuse the worry you put them through.”

You grinned, the tired haze of sleep crashing on you, “Ouch, I’ll have to try harder I guess,” you said and yawned, making Spencer smile.

“Rest a little,” he said, “I’ll stay right here, okay?”

You nodded and leaned your head back to the pillows, then closed your eyes.

                                                 ***

You were given the permission to go home after a week because your mother insisted on keeping you there until she was convinced you wouldn’t drop dead all of a sudden. Surprisingly enough, she didn’t raise hell when you told her you would be staying at Spencer’s place for a while, and for once, Mina agreed with you.

You really needed to ask Spencer what had happened while you were gone, in detail.

It was strange, but your sleep was much less disturbed after you had returned from the hospital. When you were in hospital you had just assumed it was because of the meds they had given you, but now, sleeping with Spencer in his bed, there was still no sign of any nightmares.

With you, that was. Spencer was a completely different story.

You still had to be careful because of your ribs and the doctor had told you to be careful with how you slept, so the moment you moved a little in your sleep and felt the pain shooting through you, you made a face and reached for Spencer’s side of the bed only to meet an empty spot. You opened your eyes, and carefully sat up in bed, trying to hear whether there was any noise to signal he was coming back to bed but there was none, so you slipped out of the bed and walked to the living room.

Of course he was there. Cradling a cup with steam coming out of it in his hands, staring into the darkness as if he was lost in his own mind.

“Spencer?” you said softly and he turned his head, snapping out of his thoughts.

“Hey,” he said, trying to smile, “Why are you up?”

“I could ask you the same question,” you tilted your head before you went to sit beside him and he ran a hand through his curls.

“It’s not important.”

“Nightmares?” you asked and he nodded silently.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Maybe later,” he murmured, “How about you? Any pain? Do you need an ice bag?”

You shook your head, “Nah it’s fine,” you said, “It doesn’t hurt that terribly.”

“And your nightmares?”

You shrugged, “No nightmares. I mean—at least not like the earlier ones. Not where I’m turning into him.”

“Trauma works differently in everyone.”

“I don’t think it’s the trauma though,” you said, “I think it’s because…because I know now.”

He raised his brows, his whole attention on you, “What do you mean?”

“It’s not in me,” you said, “It’s just—it’s just not. I don’t think it ever was. My father killed people because it made him feel powerful. It wasn’t like that with me, back at the cabin. It was survival. For me and people I care about, that’s all. It doesn’t make me evil.”

That seemed to pull him out of his thoughts and he smiled.

“No it doesn’t,” he said, “You’ve never been evil. Even when he tried to turn you into that.”

Even your heart felt light, despite the pain in your ribs and your smile widened.

“I know he’s not dead but…”

“He’s locked away. Same difference from now on.”

You paused for a moment, “Speaking of,” you said, “I was thinking I could go and see him for the last time.”

He frowned, “Why?”

“I don’t know. I think it’ll help me put this whole thing behind me.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“I want to see the look on his face when he realizes his small project failed,” you said, “Trust me. There’s no way he can get to me, not anymore.”

He rubbed his thumb over your hand and you leaned back to the back of the couch, still keeping your gaze on his handsome face.

“You don’t have to come with me,” you said, “If it’s too much.”

“It’s not that,” he rasped out, “Officially, I might not be allowed in.”

“Why not?”

“I’m leaving the BAU.”

You blinked a couple of times, gawking at him, then sat up straighter.

“What?”

“I can’t anymore,” he averted his glances from you to look into space, nibbling on his lip, “Y/N, I was out of the city when they called me to tell me you were missing, that you were most probably taken by the copycat. And for the whole time until I found you…” his voice cracked, “Lincoln’s profile, before we even knew that he was Lincoln, it all suggested that he…killed his victims without spending any time with them. I thought—“ he sniffled and cleared his throat, “I can’t do that anymore. Imagining you like all those victims…”

“Spencer, I’m fine.”

“But you weren’t,” he said, barely moving his lips, “Back there.”

Ah. The woods.

“That’s what your nightmare was about?” you asked and he heaved a shaky sigh.

“I couldn’t save you,” he said, “You died there, and I couldn’t do anything, I was too late—“

“Spencer,” you reached out to touch his cheek, “Hey, look at me.”

He turned his head so that his eyes would meet yours and you dragged your fingertips over the slight stubble on his cheek.

“You weren’t too late,” you told him, “And I didn’t die. Okay? I’m right here. Don’t leave the BAU because of me, do it only if you want to. I’ll be with you either way.”

He blinked back the tears and nodded. “I want to,” he whispered, “I can’t anymore, and I want- I want to be here. I’ll just…I’ll focus on teaching, and the team can consult me whenever they need to, but I need to be here.”

“And you’re sure about that? It’s not some…heat of the moment decision?”

“It’s not,” he said, “I’m positive.”

“Alright,” you smiled at him softly, “Okay then. I guess instead of talking about gruesome murders and copycats who were after me, we can be one of those boring, cliché couples who bicker about…I don’t know, dirty dishes in the sink, or how you forgot to put down the toilet seat or-“

“Your hair in the drain.”

“I’m going to pretend like you weren’t waiting for the opportunity to bring that up.”

He let out a teary laugh and wiped at his eyes before he pulled you closer and carefully wrapped his arms around you so as not to hurt your ribs, burying his face into the crook of your neck. You brushed your fingers through his curls, as if trying to prove to him that you were there, that you were alright.

“I love you so much,” the confession left his lips in a whisper and you could feel the burning behind your eyes as you raked your nails over the nape of his neck gently.

“I love you too,” you murmured, “God, you have no idea how much.”

                                                      ***

The BAU, upon your request, fixed a meeting with your father for the next week.

And throughout that week, everyone tried to convince you to change your mind. Your mother had made a whole scene during brunch, telling you that it was as if you liked torturing yourself, but you knew deep down that you had to talk to him for the last time.

Seeing your father after what felt like a life time, especially after everything that you had been through was strange at the very least. You didn’t have any goosebumps, you didn’t have that nervousness messing with your head, you didn’t feel like you were under the threat of being attacked any time, and most of all—

You didn’t feel like he was stronger than you. At all.

You lit a cigarette in the interrogation room, then flipped the cap of the lighter and turned your head when the door opened and your father walked in, chains dangling from his handcuffs wrapped around his ankles. He stared at you for a couple of seconds as if he didn’t expect to see you there and let out a breath.

“Petal…”

“You should sit down,” you said, exhaling the smoke and a guard helped him sit down across from you.

“We’re right outside, miss.”

“Thank you,” you said and watched as he straightened his back, his gaze focused on you.

“You look…” he trailed off and you raised your brows,

“Hm?”

“What did they do to you?”

“Ah I guess your outside source ending up dead gets you a bit behind on the news,” you said, “Erica is dead, Lincoln is never gonna see the sunlight again, and your whole project to turn me into your legacy with the help of them failed terribly.”

“I’d never allow them to harm you like this.”

You rolled your eyes, exhaling the smoke.

“But you fought your way out, didn’t you?” he asked you, “Looks like my training helped you after all. Even if you refuse to see that.”

“Did you seriously think I’d become like you?” you asked back, “Did you think Lincoln would manage to turn me into you?”

“Honey, Lincoln was going to be your companion at best, your first kill at worst.” he said and you clicked your tongue.

“Oh, that was your plan all along?”

“Some part of it, at least. I knew they wouldn’t be able to handle you, but I thought you could decide what to do with them. Could you kill Erica at least?”

“Didn’t get the chance.”

“You should have,” he said, “You would see, Petal.”

You twirled the cigarette between your fingers, staring at him for a couple of seconds.

“I keep thinking,” you mused, “You know what I said to Mina and Kenzie when they first told me they wanted to have a baby?”

He tilted his head, “Hm? What?”

“I asked them if they lost their minds.”

Your father pulled back slightly and you shrugged your shoulders.

“Because I mean… Kenzie’s parents are assholes, and there’s you,” you motioned at him, “Not that anyone else could take the cake on being a messed up parent when you’re in the picture.”

“I take offense to that.”

“I don’t care,” you said, “But then it hit me, back at the hospital. I was looking at this whole mess from the wrong perspective.”

“Which is?”

“They had a point,” you said, “Back then- before all this I mean, I thought when someone decided to have kids, their first priority was to be the perfect parent. That’s stupid, it’s impossible to be the perfect parent, our own parents mess us up in one way or another. But I get it now.”

“You get what?”

“The first step is being better than your own parents, not starting out perfect,” you said, “That’s why every generation is different, we’re all trying to be better than our parents, and some of us actually succeed.”

“And you think you’d be a better parent than me, is that it?”

“Shouldn’t take that much of an effort to be honest.”

“Are you…?” he motioned at you and you scoffed.

“No,” you said, “No, but what happened back there made me think. I’ve been living my whole life so convinced that you messed me up beyond my own control, beyond saving, but that’s not completely true, is it? I mean, just because you’re in my past, doesn’t mean I’ll have to include you in my present.”

“But I am in your present Petal.”

You pursed your lips together, then gestured around you. “Debatable. Nolan is buying this whole place, did you know that?” you asked, “All your guards are on our paychecks, so it should be harder to…use them to contact outside. We control everything that’s happening here, and there’s nothing you can do about that.”

He blinked a couple of times, trying to catch up with your train of thought.

“And you think that will be enough to put me behind you?”

You shook your head, “No, I don’t think it’s that easy,” you confessed, “But it’s a start.”

He moved his hands on the table, the chain rattling.

“I raised you.” he said, “I’m inside your head, whether you like it or not. You’re my legacy—“

“I’m my own legacy, you fucking idiot,” you said with a small chuckle, “That’s who I am. Just because your expectations of me will not leave me, doesn’t mean I’ll let them haunt me.”

“And you think that will be enough.”

“I will never see you again,” you tilted your head, “Should make things easier, to be honest.”

He smiled, “But you already hurt people,” he said “You know how it feels now, don’t you? That fire? Now you know what you’re capable of.”

You thought for a moment.

“Yeah,” you said, “Yeah I do. Now I know that if it ever comes to that point, I’m capable of protecting myself and my family. It doesn’t make me a monster, it makes me a survivor. Me and mom have that in common, after the shit you’ve pulled.”

He stared at you and you took a last drag of your cigarette, then checked your wristwatch.

“Well I should go. You may have all the time in the world, but I actually have a life, so…”

You stubbed your cigarette and walked to the door but as soon as you opened it, he said your name, making you stop.

“You can’t escape from this,” he said, “Even if you never see me again, you still won’t escape, you know that, right? Why do you think I chose you and not your sister? Even when you were a child, you had…something in you. Something dark, something dangerous.”

The idea was very familiar to you. You had been saying the same thing to yourself for many years and hearing it from him for what felt like a hundredth time was supposed to make you feel bad, you knew that. If it were any other time before your kidnapping, before saving yourself in that cabin, before surviving everything your father and his followers had put you through, it would probably have more effect on you.

The last time he had done that, you had ended up in the stairs, shaking until Spencer had found you.

But it wasn’t that time.

It was as if something had clicked inside your head after everything, and your father’s words held no strength in them.

“Come on honey,” he told you, “Some people are just born twisted.”

A small smile pulled at your lips and you raised your brows, looking at him for a couple of seconds, etching the sight of him in chains into your memory.

“Maybe,” you said and took a step towards him, opening your cigarette case to pull out the small jasmine flower out of it, then put it on the table, eyes locked to his before you leaned in slightly.

“But I wasn’t.”

With that, you turned around and walked out of the interrogation room for the last time, ignoring the way he was yelling your name. Your smile widened as you made your way out of the building, your heels echoing in the halls before you stepped out, the fresh air filling your lungs.

“Hey,” Spencer greeted you, leaning back to your car and reached out so that you could step into his embrace as he pushed your hair out of your face, “How did it go?”

“As expected,” you stood on your tiptoes to press a kiss on his lips and he heaved a sigh.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you said “Yeah I feel like…he’s gone. He’s gone, I’m here and I’m free and I know myself now. I finally woke up from that nightmare, for good.”

He smiled and brushed his lips against yours, “That’s a good start,” he commented, “What do you want to do now?”

“I’m open to suggestions,” you said and he tilted his head before he held up your keys.

“What do you say we drive away and never return here?”

You let out a small giggle and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“I like that idea,” you said, “Let’s drive away and never return.”

Chapter 29 

[bokettochild]

Apples the Pink Bunny

Did someone ask for this? 

No.

Did I have an anxiety/emotionally overloaded evening?

Yes.

For this reason I am awake at 2:44 am on a school night to write myself a 13 page comfort fic. So, enjoy or don’t enjoy, but here’s Legend being a soft bunny with the chain for 6,268 words.

(Inspired by this and this.)

 There is a bunny on the edge of camp.

 It crouches in the shadows, eyes glinting gold and red in the firelight, nose twitching as it watches them.

 Wind watches it back.

 He doesn’t think that the others have seen t, no one’s said anything, and they all know how Warriors hates rabbits. So, he doesn’t say anything, not to them, he only wanders around the camp casually before settling down close-ish to where the bunny hides.  

 There aren’t many wild animals in his Hyrule, aren’t many animals at all, but Four’s taught him how to convey that he’s friendly to the minish and some of the forest life, so he tries to employ that knowledge now. He doesn’t look the rabbit directly in the eye, but he does force his ears forwards towards it, letting them flick away here and again, fingers rubbing softly as he glances casually as velvety pink paws.

 He waits until he can see the rabbit watching him before he begins to whisper soft and quiet. “Hello, hello there lil’ guy.”

 There’s a huff from the bunny, but it takes a single agonizingly slow step forwards, body stretched out and nose twitching as it watches him, ears pricked up curiously. When Wind doesn’t do anything different, just keeps speaking low and soft, the bunny lops its way over, ears up and attentive as it stops beside him, eyes turned up to stare into his own with a surprising amount of boldness for a creature close enough for him to smash in one blow.

 “Hello.” Wind murmurs softly, moving slowly as he raises his hand over the rabbit, only to find himself starting as the bunny simply stares at him with the most unimpressed expression on it’s fuzzy face. Even Wolfie, who is strangely intelligent even for a dog, or so he’s heard has never looked so unimpressed with something, and the sailor finds himself lowering his hand sheepishly as if scolded, meeting the rabbit’s eyes and starting when it doesn’t flinch away, instead watching him intently with shivering nose and twitching ears.

 “Hey Wind, watcha got there?” The rancher calls over, drawing the attention of the rest of the camp and making the sailor’s heart race.  

The bunny’s going to be startled! It’s going to run away! All that work to get it to come over and he won’t even get to touch it!

 But the rabbit doesn’t move, or rather, it doesn’t bolt away. Soft lavender eyes stare across the camp, unusual in their shade but lovely to gaze into as Wind finds himself transfixed with watching the silky sheen of the petal-pink fur and the glimmer of stars in lavender and golden eyes.

 “Wind?” The rancher’s voice rings with concern, and the sailor snaps bac to attention, a warm smile easily falling over his face as he turns to the camp. “It’s a rabbit.” He says quietly, careful not to startle the beast. “Twi, do you think it’ll let me pet it?”

 The rancher’s brows furrow as he looks over, markings shifting with the rest of his face as he stares at the rabbit warily.

 To their surprise, and apparently the rabbit’s too, the tiny animal freezes in place for all of a second only to have the slight tilt of Twilight’s head sending it diving into Wind’s lap, startling the sailor enough for his to blink in surprise, but not so badly that his hands don’t instantly bury themselves in the pink fur.

 And oh! It’s softer than he thought it would be! It’s nothing like Wolfie’s rough pelt or the feathers on Wild’s winter gear. The bunny’s fur is like fine down, or maybe silk, or- He runs his hands through it again, eyes widening with every stroke as the rodent shivers in his lap, eyes fixed on Twilight and ears pressed low as he huddles in the space left between the sailor’s legs as he sits criss-cross on the ground.

 “I guess that’s a yes.” Twilight chuckles, low and deep. It’s a sound that makes warmth flow through Wind’s chest, but the rabbit only shivers, huddling lower the longer Twilight’s gaze rests on it.

 “I think you’re scaring him.” The sailor hums softly, gently pulling the rabbit into his arms with an ease that comes from years of cradling his baby sister when she was small. The rabbit nestles close, eyes still on Twilight as it seems to shake itself, bt its doesn’t struggle against him, and Wind takes that as his cue to pull himself gently to his feet and cross the camp towards where Time and Wild sit playing a card game.  

 The champion is explaining the rules for the nth time as Time chuckles low and soft, purposefully asking questions that Wild’s already answered and earning pointed stares in return. The sailor’s approach lands just as Wild looks instants from pulling out his hair, and instantly cornflower blues are locking onto him with a strained smile, the champion apparently desperate to escape the game he’d asked for in the first place. “Hey, Wind, watcha have there.”

 “A rabbit.” He replies, moving one arm to let lavender eyes peek out and stare at the champion, who’s eyes fall open in awe as his cards spill from his hands.

 “It’s...you’re...” Wild’s eyes sparkle with awe as he looks from Wind to the rabbit in his arms. “How did you catch it?”

 The rabbit shuffles closer to Wind’s chest as the words are spoken, and the sailor has to settle a hand on it’s back to calm it again as it edges away from the cook’s glimemring eyes.

 “It was on the edge of camp.” Caution leaks into the pirate-hero's voice as he scrunches up his nose. “You better not ask if you can cook it.”

 Blue eyes shoot wide as Wild shakes his head violently, earning a soft laugh from Time as his apparent orrer at the idea. “No! It’s-” Wild’s fingers twitch. “I couldn’t- Can I hold it?” The second-youngest's eyes travel up to stare up into Time’s leadingly, wide and innocent and so terribly like Aryll’s face when she’s asking Granny for another bowl of soup or piece of bread that Wind can’t help but giggle as he gently scritches the rabbit’s ears.

 “That’s up to Wind.” Time answers gently. “But I don’t see why not.”

 Softly glowing blue turns to meet his own as Wild stare up, pleading, at him. “May I?”

 “Sure” He giggles, crouching low in front of the champion. “Have you ever held a baby?” Wild’s brow furrows, considering for a moment before shaking his head. “Okay, how about a kitten? A pup?”

 The champion only shakes his head, and Wind finds himself frowning as he looks first at the bunny in his arms and then up at Wild, who’s face is quickly falling to one of disappointment.

 “Here,” Time offers, gently arranging Wild’s arms properly. “It’s like this.”

 Between the two of them, they get the bunny situated in Wild’s thin arms, and within seconds the champion’s free hand is dragging through plush fur as awe shines across his face, Time and Wind both laughing fondly as they watch and occasionally reaching out themselves to scritch the rabbit’s long ears.

 Between them, there are eight heroes, and as of late, a rabbit has joined the mix, slung easily in Sky’s sailcloth as they travel.

 The creature didn’t seem keen on leaving, and while it’s in no way fond of Twilight, the others find that they can’t resist sneaking to the back of the group to gently scritch it’s ears, or laugh as it hops about exploring the land around them when they stop for a break.

 The Hyrule they’re in isn’t one that anyone recognizes, the forests strangely rich and the land both better kept than Wild’s while still more wild than the others. Fights in this world are intense, and only their two wanderers seem to be able to battle the insane variety and numbers of monsters with anything resembling ease.

 It’s strange too, having to hide the rabbit whenever battle comes, but the creature is smart, darting away when battles come, a scowl in its fuzzy face as it burrows beneath tree roots or into the brush, waiting until the battle is over to re-emerge, hopping slowly across the blood soaked ground without trepidation, not once blinking at the blood and grit that gets in its fur as it hops from one hero to the other, eyes flickering between violet and lavender as it analyzes them, chirring angrily at any of them when they try to hide wounds, and nestling in the laps of the younger hero’s with a put upon look when Warrior’s has to stitch something up.

...

 “He needs a name.” Wind declares after the second battle, his good hand petting the rabbit’s long ears while Sky helps to wrap the sprain in his wrist.

 “Isn’t bunny enough?” Warriors eyes the rabbit disdainfully. “You didn’t give the wolf anything fancy.”

 “He’s not just a bunny though!” Wind protests with a well-placed pout. “He’s our bunny-friend!”

 “And the wolf isn’t your wolf-friend?” Twilight cocks a brow, something like hurt flashing through his eyes before he actually winces, hissing softly as Warriors continues to stitch him up.

 “The wolf comes and goes. Besides, he’s a wild thing, so it’d be wrong to name him like a common dog.” Wind explains, shrugging lightly but stopping when Sky pushes his shoulder back down with a whispered reprimand for moving. “The bunny stays with us though,” Wind continues, holding still this time save for the hand that continues along the bunny’s pelt. “He needs a real name.”

 “Agreed.” Wild sounds, shuffling over with a leafy vegetable in his hands that their rabbit friend takes with a pleased chirr, glancing up at the champion appreciatively before setting his sharp teeth to the plant, earning a smile from the champion.

 “Any ideas?” Time starts, glancing around camp and earning a flick on the ear from Hyrule, who’s still trying to clean a wound on the man’s face.

 “Seriously Time?” Warriors protests, but it’s too late, the others are already musing quietly and beginning to consider ideas.  

 “Petal?” Sky tries, glancing down at the rabbit in Wind’s arms. “Like, cherry blossom petals?”

 “Cherry!” Wild gasps, eyes glimmering hopefully.

 “Pinky.” Warriors snorts distastefully, earning an angry chitter from the rabbit, but the captain only glares back at the animal, as if it had just insulted him, mimicking the chitter pathetically and drawing laughs from the others.  

 “It’s a boy, right?” Twilight questions, cocking a brow, and the others exchange looks. “I think so? I’m not sure I want to check....”

 “Nothing too feminine then.” Sky nods slowly.

 “Floor.” Four suggests solemnly. “Floof the Poof.”

 Eight sets of eyes, including the rabbits, turn to stare at the smithy disbelievingly. Red glimmers in his eyes for all of a second before he starts and flushes. “Sorry,” The smith rubs at his neck nervously, red blooming over his face and down his neck. “I was thinking aloud, Intrusive thoughts, you know?”

 “What about Apple, for apple-blossom?” Time speaks slowly, eyes still on the smithy as he speaks, concern but fondness in his eyes.  

 The rabbit in Wind’s lap looks up, staring at Time and munching in a way that almost looks considering, violet eyes fixed on the eldest hero’s single one, the two locking gazes, neither blinking until Warriors sighs and snaps his fingers, startling them both.

 “Aaaand, that’s a yes for Apples.” Warriors rolls his eyes. “No angry chitter, no arguments against.” The captain’s gaze levels them all. “Unless anyone has any objections?”

 “Nope!”

 “I think it sound’s cute?” Sky chuckles, patting Wind’s arm to signal that he’s finished and scratching the newly named Apples behind the ears. The rabbit huffs in his rabbit way, but they've all grown too used to the grouchiness of the animal to do anything other than laugh at it.

...

 Apples is a wonder, and they are so very happy to have him.

 There is nothing so convincing to make Sky finally relax than to have a pink mess of fur barrel into his lap and force heavy eyes to close under the soothing feeling of fur on his fingers and a small warm body pressed against his own.

 Sky’s restless sleep and eternal exhaustion ease with every night and Wind giggles as each evening after dinner the bunny climbs resolutely into Sky’s lap, glaring pointedly up at the Skyloftian until long fingers are dragging through his fur and crystal blue eyes are falling shut contently.

 When Sky shoots awake at night, there's a rabbit there that presses tiny paws to his chest, dark eyes staring up into his face in the darkness as ears flick and a tiny nose twitch, worry in the rabbit's expression as Sky sighs, a light smile on his face as he raises a hand to run through long fur. “I’m good, Apples, it was just a dream.”

 The rabbit always snorts, scowling lightly and buffeting Sky’s chest with its head, but the Skyloftian only chuckles lightly, wrapping the bunny in his arms and shifting to lie on his side, the rabbit held close as he fades back into sleep.

...

 When Time broods, brows low and frown lines pulling at his features and aging him by decades, most of the others know not to disturb him. They let each other have their space and they never press. Wolfie will, at time, curl up at the old man’s feet or sit at his side, allowing callused fingers to run through his thick fur as Time sits and stares at the ground, mind a world away where none of them ever wish to see, if the pain and sorrow in his gaze is to be read properly.

 Perhaps a rabbit cannot be expected to understand this law of privacy though, even if he is unusually intelligent.

 Time’s hair falls into his face as he perches on a stone on the edge of camp, gaze fixed on Lake Hylia below them as his elbows rest on his knees, face downcast and frowning as pain glimmers in his single blue eye.

 Apples, who had been stretching his legs after being carried in Sky’s arms during their traveling that day, pauses, ears flicking up and towards the old man, paws freezing just off the ground as he watches, nose twitching.

 The heroes watch, Wind darting up worriedly as the bunny lops closer to Time, but he freezes when the pink ball of fur pulls himself up next to Time with surprising agility, head butting carefully against their leader’s armored thigh as a soft squeak break through the air. Time doesn’t stir, not at first, but then the rabbit settles next to him, one paw on the old man’s leg, eyes following Time’s down to Lake Hylia.

 Scarred hands twitch before finally landing in silky pink, pulling through the long fur as tension bleeds from Time’s shoulders, a breathy sigh escaping their leader before a soft tune begins to drift through the air.  

 The rabbit gently settles down, head resting beside his paws as Apple allows Time to pet him slowly.

 The others are to far to understand the words, but Time’s soft murmurs break the silence, Apple’s ears twitching while an intelligent bunny face stares up at the tear-streaked face of the hero of Time.

 When Time rejoins the rest of them for dinner, it’s with Apples nestled in his arms, a sad sort of peace in the hero’s gaze as he settles down to join in the meal, never once releasing Apples while they eat and joke, and by the time the meal is finished, the pink bunny is soundly asleep in Time’s arms.

...

 It’s Four that seems the most curious about their little friend, and while the rabbit doesn’t seem particularly playful, the smith will occasionally catch up the animal, laughing s Apples sighs in an almost reluctant manner, and carry him off into the woods near where they are.

 The Minish love Apples, and Four himself delights in diving amidst the pink fur or the first time while the bunny looks at him in utter shock.

 Air enough, it was unlikely that Apples had ever seen a Hylian shift into a Minish before. But at this size, Four can enjoy Apples’ fur far better than as a Hylian, and it’s delightful to lead the rabbit around, chattering lightly as Apples lops along behind him, ears pricked and nose shivering as they move through Minish towns and groves, exploring the tiniest nooks and crannies they can find and having all sors of adventures.

 Of course, there are dangers to being smaller than a rabbit, and the first time a spider attacks them, freakishly big and easily big enough to rip off Four’s head, it’s Apples that darts to his rescue, chirping and scolding in his rabbit way as he thumps his feet and pins back his ears in a strange imitation of Wolfie’s growl.

 The spider is in no ways eager to give up her prey, and Four finds that, despite killing monsters on the daily, he has to turn away in disgust as Apples tears the spider apart, eyes flashing with gold as the seemingly harmless pink rabbit unleashes mass destruction on not only the one spider, but also her sisters that emerge from the burrow beside them. Long legs and venomous maws stretch over the top of him, reaching out to grab the Minish Hero, only to have a rabbit dart over, teeth flashing and harsh chatters sounding as legs and bodies are torn asunder.

 When the spiders stop emerging, the small patch of grass is full of the remains of spiders, and Apples is rubbing at his nose and sneezing softly, absolutely covered in the remains of the monstrous insects.

 “Thank you...” Is all the smithy can breathe out as Apples’ eyes meet his own.

 He’s replied to with a sneeze.

 Four shifts back as soon as possible, carrying his bunny savior back to camp and carefully helping to clean the rabbits long fur, murmuring softly and thankfully all the while. And if he shares a but about his previous adventures, and Ezlo, who while being a hat shared some things in common with the grouchy rabbit, well, it’s not like Apples will be able to tell anyone!

...

 It’s Wild that seems the most enraptured with their new little companion. Always asking the older hero’s questions as he sorts through his inventory, offering all sorts of foods and treats to the rabbit and cooing in delight each time something is accepted. No one knows what it is exactly what it is about watching Apples eat has Wild so happy, but there’s no denying that the easy grin that steals over his face is better than the solemn frown and sad thoughtfulness that takes over on occasion.

 The first time they see Wild go into a memory, it’s Apples that catches their attention, the rabbit shrieking worriedly as he bumps against the champion’s still hand, concern filling his violet eyes as he stares up at the champion, paws raised to press against the hero’s stomach while ears and nose twitch and shiver worriedly.  

 Apples doesn’t even panic when Twilight steps over, although he does shrink back, wary as the rancher gently shakes Wild’s shoulder before sighing and sitting next to him. The rabbit mimics the motion, but on the other side, eyes flicking from Twilight to Wild with nervous concern and wariness, but when neither move he contents himself with gently rubbing against the champion’s limp hand.

 When Wild blinks awake again, eyes darting too and fro to take in his surrounds and breathing harsh, Apples jumps up, paws settling on the kid’s thigh and catching his attention, making the young hero still and stare. Tears well in cornflower blue eyes, and the rabbit doesn’t even sigh when Wild scoops him up, burying his face in Apples’ fur and sobbing quietly.

 Were their hearts not aching for their brother, soft chuckles would have sounded around camp when Apples had freed a paw to gently pat the champion’s cheek.

...

After the first few weeks and a few more switches, Sky will come to find Apples every time that bedtime draws near, scooping the bunny out of the lap of another hero with a chipper “My turn now!” as he almost skips over to his bedroll, bundling both himself and his emotional support bunny into his sailcloth with a smile as Apples rolls his rabbit eyes and presses his paws to Sky’s own blue eyes, pushing them closed before settling against the Skyloftian’s chest. The Chosen Hero is always asleep within minutes, sleepily singing Zelda’s lullaby between snores as Apples’ violet eyes watch the rest of the camp.

 When Time need space, the rabbit will follow, gently resting a paw on his leg and sitting with him, eyes filled with an understanding that is ridiculous in a rabbit, but somehow believable as Time’s callused fingers work through pink fur, songs and stories drifting from tired lips as long ears twitch ever so slightly to catch the words.

 When Wind is playful, he’ll dart up and after the rabbit, who will always sigh in his rabbit way and either dart away or give chase, running the youngest hero ragged until Wind collapses, giggling and breathless, with Apples hopping up on his chest to bat at his face, as if to say “I win, I beat you, you lost so give me pets” and Wind does, eventually hauling himself up, and inevitably knocking Apples over before administering thankful ear scratches and pets until Apples springs free and continues going about his rabbit business.

 Hyrule, though quiet, will often be found with the rabbit beside him, sometimes with Apple’s pushing his nose against the traveler’s hands and guiding them to better hold a knife while he’s carving, or a needle while he sews. It’s strange to see a bunny of all things unroll a bandage and offer it to the healor, but be it Hyrule or someone else that’s injured (provided it’s not Twilight) the rabbit will be springing over with his bunny brows furrowed as he scolds and fusses, nudging things over to Hyrule before the traveler can even ask someone for them, and climbing into bags and pulling out potions when the Hyrule’s healing glow begins to fade.

 Sleeves are tugged at when the Traveler is exhausted, unreleased until Hyrule agrees to rest, and when they eat the bunny will chitter and fuss and kick up a riot until Hyrule will humbly ask for seconds or Wild will offer them, stern indigo eyes following the travel’s movements until his bowl or plate is empty.

 When Wild is cooking, the rabbit will sit at his side, watching the process and chittering or nipping when the champion goes to add something dubious to the food, or begins to spice it too much for the younger ones to handle. Wild only ever laughs, offering bits and bobs of food as he works, and chuckling with delight when the bunny accepts them, Apple’s sharp teeth working away at leafy greens as stern violet eyes watch the young hero work.

 And when memories strike, harsh and horrid and often sad, the bunny climbs his way into Wild’s lap and sits until the hero stirs again. Apples’ fur is drenched time and again with tears, and every time, without fail, tiny paws gently pat the Wild’s head, lavender in normally violet eyes as a tiny nose nuzzles against a reddened and drooping ear.

 Four delights in exploring with Apples, and whether it be carrying the bunny off with him and chattering, or shrinking down and riding on Apples’ back, the two never fail to find something interesting to do.

 Through all of it, Twilight will gaze sadly at the rabbit who avoids him like death, and Warriors will scoff and roll his eyes, although fondly, as the younger heroes all fuss over their new friend.

 It’s only so much time before the captain breaks.

 It’s a nightmare, blood and blades and shrieks of two little boys and many trusted friends echoing in the captain’s mind, making him start awake with tears in his eyes. Warriors shivers in the night air, drawing his scarf around his neck and wrapping himself in his arms as he moves towards the fire.

 To his surprise, Apples sits before the flames as well, ears flicking towards the captain’s movements but gaze fixed on the flames with an almost sad air.

 The captain merely snorts and dismissed the rabbit in his mind, but with ever second the world around him presses closer and Warriors becomes more and more agitated. And still, the rabbit doesn't move, doesn’t look at him, Apples only sighs deeply as he stares into the fire, and when Warriors shoots the rabbit a confused look he starts when he sees what looks to be tears in lavender eyes.

 “You too huh?” Exhaustion loosens his tongue as he hunches before the fire, watching the flames dance. “Bad hunt? Lost mate?” The rabbit chitters something unintelligible, tiny body stiffening almost like Twilight’s does when he gets defensive. It draws a laugh from the captain’s throat, barking and bitter as his gaze rests on the burning remains of a log. “I feel you there, didn’t expect a rabbit to have trauma though.”

 An unimpressed glare is leveled his way, this time drawing a genuine but startled laugh from the captain. “So it’s like that huh? Too tough to talk about it?” 

 One ear twitches Apples wrinkling his tiny nose before stomping one of his feet agitatedly and huffing a short and sharp little breath at the flames.

 “I hear you.” Warriors laughs, a little broken and a little teary, eyes returning to the coals, shimmering with the ghosts of memories as screams echo in ears too used to their calls.

 Apples twitches, hesitant, ears flickering and feet stomping grouchily for a moment, before Warriors finds himself with a lap full of rabbit as the pink bunny pushes his head into Warriors’ hand, nearly demanding to be pet.

 “Oh,” Warriors scoffs, voice wet and harsh. “That’s how it is, huh? All your other Hylian’s are asleep, so because I’m awake from nightmares and goddess darned trauma, you figured I was available to pet you?”

 Another insistent nudge, and Warriors is rolling his eyes, pushing his hands through long fur with a sigh.

 It’s like silk, he muses to himself, blinking in surprise and running his hands through again. Like the finest of fabrics in the castle, like Artemis’ dresses that she wore when the war was over and they celebrated with dances and feasting and speeches of honor to the dead. Apples’ fur is like glinting red hair, oiled and brushed every night before bed. It’s like baby’s hair, impossibly soft and delicate.

 There’s a small body curled in his lap, and Warriors’ hands run over it curiously, stroking impossibly soft fur as he becomes lost in the wonder of the color, in the texture. Screams and blood fly from his mind as the captain’s fingers trail through the fluff, and warmth floods trough his chest when he takes Apples’ face in his hands and rubs at the rabbits' cheeks, laughter bubbling in his chest, warm and bright as the bunny scowls up at him.

 The next morning, when the heroes awake, its to find Sky shaking his head as he looks down at his usual sleeping companion held tight in Warriors’ arms, a blissful smile on the captain’s tearstained face. Apples scowls up at them, but he’s curled close to the man’s chest, with ample room to escape, and no one believes for a minute that he’s there against his will.

 The jabs and eye rolls continue from both parties, but on long nights, when the others are asleep and rabbit and soldier both find themselves awake, Warriors will scoop the bunny into his lap, losing himself in Apples’ fur before drifting off again.

 Wild has the pictures to prove it.

...

 Twilight sulks the entire time, the sadness in his eyes turning into a full-blown pout as he tries time and again to win Apples’ affection, earning teasing from all parties, but especially Wars.

 “I didn’t even want the thing, and he insists on climbing all over me!” The captain jests. “Yet you court him with more care than a knight with a lady he favors and he still rejects you!”

 The rancher’s scowl and accompanying growl always sends Apples closer to whatever other hero is nearest, the rancher’s eyes narrowing as he huffs out retorts that go from being teasing to being genuinely hurt. The captain stops after a time, apologizing, but Twilight blows him off, excusing it as teasing while clearly looking hurt.

 No matter what he tries though, food, cuddles, gentle words and careful movements, nothing will win the rabbit over, and when they again land in a world that none of them recognize, it’s too late to keep trying.

...

 Ravio blinks down in surprise as the rabbit that sits in his living room. It’s raining wildly outside, and the animal is positively soaked, so he can hardly deny it access, but even so, it’s not every day that woodland creatures are entering the house.

 …..Alright, not anymore. Not with Mr. Hero having gone missing.

 Only Sheerow flies about the house, chirping and singing as he helps Ravio with the housework and keeps the merchant comfortable, and while he doesn’t ind in the least being with only his bird friend, he does rather miss the constant presence of birds outside the windows and deer wandering in from the forest to graze in the front yard. Mr. Hero never minded them, claiming that the beasts kept the grass short, but Ravio knows his friend, and he’s seen Mr. Hero dozing while surrounded by woodland creature enough times to know that the affection the animals feel for his friend is mutual.

 Even so, Mr. Hero isn’t here, so there really shouldn’t be any forest creatures flocking into his house, especially not one that’s going through his things.

 “Hey! Stop!” The merchant protests, darting forwards and scooping up the creature in his arms, only to be met with familiar violet and golden eyes staring back at him. “Mr....Hero?”

 The bunny squeaks something that sounds like it might be in the affirmative, and Ravio stares.

 “How did you...” He’s leveled with an unimpressed stare that is all he needs to see to know for sure it’s his friend. “Were you cursed?”

 There’s a firm nod in return, and concern bubbles in his heart as the merchant holds his friend a bit tighter. “Can you reverse it?”

 Violet eyes roll, but Mr. Hero isn’t panicking, and he even points towards the chest in the corner where he keeps most of his adventuring things, which itself is enough reassurance that one of his many items (some of which are Ravio’s own handiwork) will do the trick to turn him back.

 “Oh good.” Ravio sighs, sagging in place and taking In his friend properly. Again, Mr. Rabbit Hero points at the chest, and he’s getting the idea that his friend wants him to let him go so he can change back but...

 Soft fur rubs at his fingers and the feeling of a small body held in his hands is just so pleasant!

 “One minute, please? Just one?” He pleads, turning on all the power he can as he aims a sorrowful look at his friend. “Your fur is so soft and I- can't I pet you for just a little bit, before you change back?”

 Mr. Bunny Hero sighs, but the huff and nod are easy to read and Ravio clutches his friend to his chest with a cheer. “Thank you Mr. Hero!”

...

 “Apples? Apples?” Wind’s voice is breaking by now as he calls out into the underbrush. The last switch had them all separated, and while the heroes have successfully regrouped, they’ve failed to be able to locate their fuzzy ninth member.

 “He’s got to be here somewhere!” Wild whispers, scratching at his scars worriedly and prompting his mentor to gently push his hands back down again, it does no good, the habit that died with fur to play with reappears in its absence, and Twilight’s pelt is too cumbersome and heavy to be carried and stroked while they walk.

 “Apples?” Sky chokes out, staring at the path before them, but nothing can be seen except a lone traveler who stalks along stiffly towards them.

 “We’ll ask this traveler.” Time sighs, eyes heavy with worry as he pushes to the front of the group, raising a hand in greeting. “Ho there.”

 “Ho.” The traveler returns, sharp violet eyes staring at them all from under pink and rose-gold bangs that peek out from beneath a blue cap. “What brings fighters like you into these parts?”

 “we’re looking for a rabbit.” The captain says, taking no consideration for how ridiculous he sounds. “Normal size, but as pink as a cherry tree, you can’t miss him.”

 Hopeful gazes turn to the stranger, who’s gaze darts away for a brief moment. “Sounds like my boarder’s pet.” There’s a strain to the man’s- or is he a boy?- voice as he speaks. “He disagreed a few months back and only came back yesterday. His-His owner was delighted.” The stranger speaks slowly, flushing slightly as he meets their eyes with an awkward attempt at a smile.

 “He...he already had a family?” Wind and Wild both droop, and the other’s all sigh in collective disappointment as the stranger shifts before them, the light catching in the hilt of the sword on his back.

 “Yeah... Sorry if you got attached.” The stranger winces, incredibly awkward as his eyes dart over them all, as if desperate to find anything else to talk about. “Why so heavily armed, just to look for a bunny?”

 “Monsters.” Sky answers softly, eyes downturned as he twists his cloth in his fingers.  

 “Aren’t those for heroes and soldiers to bother with? Not common folk?”

 “We aren’t exactly common.” Time explains. “Monster fighting is sort of our job.”

 “Uh huh.” The stranger shifts back on his heels. “Last I checked, the only person the royal family was hiring to get rid of monsters was me, and I don’t recall hearing any changes about that recently.”

 “Why you?” Wild tilts his head to one side, curiosity mingling with his sadness as he takes in the stranger.

 “Hero’s duty.” The other drawls,, scowling slightly as his nose scrunches up, wiggling the tiniest bit in distaste.

 “You’re a hero?” Warriors deadpanned, disbelief tainting his voice as he looked from pegasus boot clad feet up to red and green tunics, fluffy golden hair and sharp violet eyes. Said eyes stared back with an intensity that was strangely familiar, irritation glinting in their depths.

 “Unfortunately, yes.”

 And just like that, the Hero of Legend joined their group.

...

BONUS

 Twilight blinked down at the pink rabbit in front of him in shock. “Apples?”

 Apples- Legend? -The pink bunny- shuffled his feet, ears twitching as violet eyes flickered from the rancher's blue eyes and back down to the ground. “Um...chances that this is kept a secret?”

 Disbelief pained the Ordonian’s face. “Do you know how much they’ve missed you?”

 “I was right there.”

 “And you never told them?”

 “Well, you never owned up to being Wolfie, not last time I checked!” The bunny hero shot back, nose shivering in frustration.

 “They don’t need to know about that,” The rancher dismissed. “That sort of power isn’t something I feel comfortable sharing.”

 “Well newsflash,” Legend scowled. “I didn’t either. And it’s not like I could change back to prove myself or something, I was cursed! Anyways, can you imagine how absolutely off the hook crazy I’d sound if I just waltzed up to you and said ‘hey I’m the Hero of Legend and I’m also the bunny that’s been with you for the last two months.  was cursed but now I’m not, want me to join?’”

 Twilight scowled. “Fine. Valid. One question first.”

 “Deal.” Legend groaned.

  “Why did you never let me pet you?”

 “I’m sorry, what?” Violet blinked up at the rancher in confusion.

 “Why did you never let me pet you.” Twilight repeated simply.

 The veteran bunny stared up at him, blinking slowly. “You are a freaking wolf. Did you not notice? I may not have known it at the time, but do you think a rabbit can look at a wolf and go ‘hey look! New friend’?” At the wolf shifter’s silence, Legend scoffed. “Yeah. That’s why.”

 “Okay, valid.” Twilight nodded. “But one last thing, why didn’t you never talk?”

 “Cursed.” legend rolled his eyes. “The nature of this one is different, I’m just my soul's reflection, not an actual animal, there’s a difference, and it’s one I’d like to not have to worry about for much longer. Now, how do I change back?”

 “Well,” The rancher offered a weak smile. “We’re gonna have to ask Sky for help.”

 That night, rather than sitting by the fire until he drifted off, Sky settled down next to Legend, pulling the hero into his arms happily as the vet had put up token protests before snuggling against him. Sky hadn’t slept as well in months, and Twilight took no small amount of joy in being able to play with the vet’s silky hair all through his watch.

[heavenbarnes]

PLEASE STAND BY: Love is strange

Wanda Maximoff x female reader

Warning/Contains: spoilers for “WandaVision”, aspects of mind-control meaning reader isn’t truly consenting, parts of this don’t make sense and are designed to make you feel strange, alcohol, arguments, cheating, kissing, oral sex (f!receiving), some good old fashioned 1950s gender rolls

Word Count: 3.8k

it was a given that i would be writing for wanda, but i never expected to get to do something so exciting, i really hope you all enjoy! it’s going to get sexy, get retro, and get creepy x

MASTERLIST

The day you met Mr. Vision at the end of your driveway, he was on his way to work in the early morning, you’d only spoken to him for a second but he seemed to draw a feeling from you that you hadn’t ever seen around here. He had to be the first man you’d spoken to in a while who wasn’t two-dimensional, he had to be the first neighbor you’d ever actually spoken to.

“We’ve only just moved in, how long have you been here?” He lent against your letterbox where you’d just been checking for mail, you’d seen the postman hanging around but he’d never dropped anything off for you.

“Well,” You thought on it for a moment, face going thoughtful as you tried to draw on the memory of first arriving in this town. “You know sometimes it feels like a lifetime and others it feels like barely any time has passed!”

He shared a chuckle with you, nodding in agreement at how strange a thing like time can be. “You live with your husband?”

“Yes, my husband James, we moved here once he’d returned from service.”

“Ah, and what does he do now?”

Again, your eyes narrowed and lips turned down slightly as you thought over what your husband did in a day. “Well he, you see-”

Thinking of it, your husband wakes in the morning and goes to work, he returns to your home cooked meal and you never really discuss it past that. “I’m not really too sure, he goes to his office and then he comes home.”

Mr. Vision reassures you with a shared chuckle, nodding at how strange a thing like work can be. “Sometimes I feel the same, and I’m the one doing the job!”

“Yes, I’m not too convinced that he doesn’t cease to exist once he leaves our home, at least till he comes back looking for food!”

Your laughter tapered off into sighs of agreement slowly, nodding quietly but both still overcome with even the slightest expressions of confusion, unable to shake that there just might be something you’re both missing.

It seemed to break quickly enough, smiles both back on your faces as you gave Mr. Vision the chance to continue his way to work. He called over his shoulder as he was leaving, “I’m sure my wife would like a new friend, you must go introduce yourself.”

Now, didn’t that sound like a dream.

Every day for you was like the one before and the next, you woke and you tidied and you cooked and went to bed. Sometimes it felt like you were a background character in someone’s life, like they were out doing the fun things you longed for whilst you milled about tending to a rosebush and kissing your husband on the cheek on your front porch.

There were also the, well simply the things you couldn’t explain. The way there was always food in your fridge despite the fact you’d never bought a single grocery, and the way-

The way that- the what? What were you talking about?

You shook your head with a smile, turning back into the house to freshen yourself for a moment. Your hair was perfectly set but you had the urge to tuck a piece behind your ear, straightening the skirt of your dress before going to the kitchen.

Taking some of the biscuits you’d made maybe a day ago, you lay them on a plate, before draping a tea towel across them. Carrying them down the street, you made your way to the Vision residence, gingerly bringing your hand to the door to wrap your knuckles against.

Mrs. Vision would be the first neighbor you really spoke to your whole time being here, what if she was like the others, didn’t wish to make pleasant conversation and enjoy company together. The fear seemed to break quickly enough as the door swung open.

Seeing her, it was like you were on stage and had forgotten your lines, she took all the breath out of your lungs. Round eyes that seemed to sparkle even in a town with the dullest hue, her cheeks drew up as she smiled at you. She looked like, well, a Vision.

“Good morning, can I help?”

Brought back to reality, you offered your plate of biscuits forward as you spoke. “Good morning, I live just down the street and met your husband this morning on his way to work this morning,” You smiled kindly to match her own expression. “So I thought I’d come say hello, Mrs. Vision.”

She stepped aside to allow you the chance to step into her beautiful home. “What a lovely surprise, and please, call me Wanda.”

Wanda was a wonderful host, dipping into the kitchen for a moment before returning with a tray of coffee. “Wow,” You remarked, taking the steaming cup from her hand. “It’s almost like you knew I was coming.”

She dropped an eye into a wink as she made her own cup. “A good housewife is always prepared.”

Wanda made things seem perfect, she made you laugh and she made you feel like you were truly a part of things. This town was lovely, you were very lucky to be where you are but everything did seem to be so black-and-white, like your whole life was written out before you with no chance to change.

You didn’t feel that way around this woman, it was like she was made from that wonderful energy that ran through this town, like she was capable of the change and excitement that you needed.

“Tell me about yourself, you have a husband?”

“Yes, James!” You smiled as you thought of him and all his loveliness. “He provides for us and is a real whizz at fixing the Television set when it gives me jiff.”

Wanda laughed as you took a sip from your coffee, it was the most perfect temperature and so rich as it ran across your tongue. You were beginning to think Wanda held a secret, the secret to being the most perfect housewife.

“And Mr. Vision, he seems really nice?”

She smiled fondly as she thought of her husband. “He is, a really great man, the kind you just couldn’t live without.”

A somewhat strange thing to say but you agreed with her nonetheless, you loved your James with the whole of your heart, you weren’t sure what you’d do if he was plucked from your grasp. Wanda continued, “But even then he does do some very “man” things.”

You gave her a small confused chuckle as she laughed along with you, shrugging her shoulders. “You know how they can be? So oblivious to things!”

Still not quite catching on, eyebrows furrowing just a tad as you implored her to elaborate a bit more. She threw one of her hands in the air, the other still holding her coffee as she spoke, “We could lay across the table in nothing but our shoes and they would still ask if we were putting dinner on it later!”

Your cheeks ran hot at her words, a hand coming to cover your mouth in shock as Wanda just laughed. She had to have been a truly modern woman to come up with things such as those, you couldn’t believe how she spoke, it was so...exciting?

“You know what I mean?” She asked, tilting her head gently.

You shook yours, thinking of your husband fondly. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt, uh, neglected by him-”

Wanda was gently tapping a finger on her coffee cup, the sound being lost at the back of your mind as a thought suddenly overcame you. You most certainly wished your husband was more attentive, it was almost as if he didn’t notice you sometimes. Your tongue moved before you could control it.

“Some nights I think James is more interested in the sports section than he is in me, and I’m right beside him in our bed!” 

You couldn’t believe your own words, how you seemed to forget yourself in that moment. Beginning to apologize profusely, Wanda laid a hand against your own to calm you down. It worked like a treat, the embarrassment fading from you in an instant.

“Men have a way of doing that, don’t they?” She took your coffee and placed it with her own on the table. “Sometimes, we just need a bit of attention.”

Like you had no control over your own mind, you were nodding in agreement. Plucking up the courage to look Wanda in the eye, that heat that had settled in your cheeks had spread across your whole being. She looked so kind, so interested in you, like the only person to really see you this whole time.

The feelings that came over you were unexplainable, you’d felt this way but only looking at your husband, somehow those feelings were rearing their heads every time Wanda moved beside you. It became clear to you that she still hadn’t moved that hand that was resting on your skin, she was still gently holding you and you weren’t doing a thing to stop it.

“Look at us,” Wanda sighed, thumb gently rubbing against your skin. “All this free time on our hands, enough time for attention.”

Your eyes flickered from her touch, to her lips as she spoke. Drawing them up to her eyes, without her saying a word you just knew what she was implying.

“Mr. Vision, he wouldn’t mind?”

“He’s a good man, he wants me happy, I know he wouldn’t mind.”

“My James-”

“He loves you doesn’t he? Wouldn’t want you feeling lonely?”

The feeling of reassurance was warm as it cast over you, wrapped around your shoulders and held you tightly. James would want you happy, making friends, feeling cared for. Something told you that he’d want this for you, he’d be pleased for you.

Nodding gently, Wanda slowly bridged the gap as she lent in towards you. Her lips were so soft as they pressed to the plush of your own. Such a gentle kiss, unrushed with all the time in the world, just perfect. Her tongue nearly moved inside your mouth, but drew back at the last minute, another gentle kiss lay against your lips before she drew back.

“It’s getting late, we should carry this on another time.”

Looking at the clock on her wall, it was already the afternoon, your husband would be home soon and dinner wasn’t even on! You’d sworn you had only been here an hour, but you must’ve let time get away on you.

Wanda showed you to the door, a sweet kiss pressed against your cheek as she said her goodbyes. “I hope I get to see you tomorrow?”

“Yes, of course you can.” You quietly looked forward to tomorrow already, you didn’t have to say a thing but from the look in her eyes, Wanda knew.

As you placed the meatloaf on the table before James, you sat before him, knife and fork in hand as you felt the urge to tell him about your day. “I made friends with our new neighbors today.”

“I’m really happy for you, doll.” He smiled back at you, taking a single bite of his dinner.

“She really gets me, understands me,” You too took a single bite of the food. “She even gave me quite a lovely kiss.”

James didn’t really react, he placed his cutlery down and smiled kindly. “Did you enjoy it?”

Dabbing your lips with a napkin and pushing your plate forward you nodded. “I really did, I cannot wait to see her tomorrow.”

“That’s great news, my love,” He stood from the table, collecting your plates. “How about we hit the hay, it’s been a long day.”

You were about to nod in agreement before you furrowed your brow for a moment. “Has it?”

James stopped for a second, looking at your almost full plates before back to you. “I- yes, I think it has been.”

You stood from the table and came to press a kiss on your cheek. “Good idea, I’ll go draw back the bed covers.”

-

Sitting in the sunshine with Wanda, they had the most glorious outdoor area, beautiful roses surrounding the space with a cobbled courtyard. You both sipped at the lemonade she’d made earlier as you simply enjoyed each others company. 

That feeling of freedom was back to wash over you, the way she made you feel the most like yourself that you’d felt in some time. Sitting beside her on the lounger, you rolled your head towards her as she spoke, the cat eye sunglasses resting gentle on her button rose making her look like something out of a dream.

Your heart swelled as she spoke of nothing in particular, just happy to be around her and in good company, as she finished her sentence she let out a long draw of breath. Quietly, she took you in for a moment before tilting her glasses down a tad.

“Have you ever been with a woman before?”

“Never, James was my first,” You answered rather quickly before pausing. “I think.”

“Would you like me to show you what it’s like? How lovely it can be?”

You felt no hesitation, no doubt in your mind, you felt the words leaving your lips before Wanda had even finished her question. “Yes, please.”

Joining you on your lounger, she rested between your legs as her lips came to gently press to your own. She tasted of the lemonade and her own sweet taste, the way she moved against your mouth was enough to make you gasp into her mouth.

Her hands moved against your sides, gently tickling you and making just about every hair stand up on end. Wanda’s touch was nearly electric, so tantalizing and so new, unlike anything you’d felt. It was still so gentle and so loving, but there was something about what she knew, like it’d take you years to ever learn to do what she could. Like she was before her time.

Your head swirled with everything surrounding you, the pleasure, the excitement, the unknown. It was such a vulnerable position, laying beneath her as she moved down your body, pushing your skirt up your hips - yet it was almost as if you forgot to feel shame.

Maybe it was Wanda, when you were around her you were unable to feel embarrassment, she made everything feel so easy and so right, like you were always meant to end up here with her. She ran her touch along the skin of your thighs, making your breath jump as she brought her fingers to the high waistband of your underwear.

You allowed her to go wherever you wanted, you felt like you needed her all over you. Wanda was magnetic, pulled you in and captivated every one of your senses until you couldn’t stand it. You ran your hand along the side of her face as she smiled up at you, leaning into your touch.

“You’re so beautiful,” She bared her teeth as she spoke. “I’m so glad to have you here.”

The comment got lost in the air as her mouth lay against your most sensitive area, lips pursing against you as her tongue ran a long line along you. Your head pressed back into the cushions, a quite whimper escaping your lips as her tongue dove between your legs quickly.

Now this was nothing like you’d ever felt, the feeling was consuming, heat rising over your body and not just from the stream of sun that cast over the both of you. Wanda’s mouth worked expertly over you as your whole body tensed against her. She was magic, her mouth was magic, her touch was magic. 

You cooed her name, fingers slotting into her perfectly done hair, seemingly not even messing it a bit as you gently pulled. Wanda moaned against you, tongue diving further into you, trying ardently to pull all sounds and reactions out of you. 

Her hands ran up beneath your clothes, splaying across your belly and moving to the wire of your brassiere. You couldn’t remember the last time James touched you in this way, let alone a time ever where a woman had held you like this.

A woman’s touch was so gentle, it was so careful and so considered that it was enough to make your head spin. Wanda pulled you back in, mouth closing around that sensitive little bud that made your eyes roll back in your head. She suckled just enough to make you mewl, your chest rising so quickly with every ministration.

The feeling took over you so quickly, body locking up tight as she was sure to draw you straight to the edge and drive you crazy on the way there. Your eyes squeezed tight and you gripped Wanda’s shoulders, your mouth opening with a cry as you felt the tight band in your core snap.

She gently worked you down from your high, the flush of heat that had consumed you slowly dissipating as she sat up in front of you. Another sweet kiss against your mouth, gently and lovingly working against your lips.

“We should probably get ready, our men will be home soon.” She winked at you, the both of you giggling quietly to yourselves.

Sitting around the Vision’s dining table, the Steak Diane that Wanda had prepared looked incredibly inviting. James turned to Mr. Vision with a smile, “It’s very kind of you both to invite us to dinner.”

“We had to, after all our wives are getting along swimmingly.” He gestured to yourself and to Wanda, raising his wine glass without taking a sip.

You shared a coy look with Wanda, smiling and raising your brows as she chuckled, before the four of you picked up your cutlery to take a bite of the food. James finished his mouthful, turning to the lady of the house to make polite conversation as he placed his cutlery on his plate. “This was delicious, thank you.”

Agreeing as you finished your own mouthful, laying your napkin on the table, “Truly, Wanda, you are talented!”

She shrugged her shoulders, smiling bashfully as she turned to her husband who hadn’t touched his. “Ah, just one of my little tricks.”

James turned to Mr. Vision with a smile, nodding towards their plates. “What is it with wives and being so talented in the kitchen?”

“You’re absolutely right,” He laughed in agreement before looking to you. “You like to cook?”

“I do rather, I’m forever at the stove making something new.” It was your turn to sport a bashful grin.

“What’s your favorite meal to make? Wanda is always whipping up some incredible creations.”

“I quite like meatloaf, I-” You stopped for a moment, turning slowly to your husband. “I make it every night.”

Unsure of why you’d expressed your love for making “something new”, it dawned on you that you made the same meal every evening without fail. James’ expression seemed to match yours, remembering the dinner that you’d had the night before, and the one before that.

A strange feeling tightened in your chest, unease, a feeling that you weren’t able to shake. You looked to Wanda, and the feeling only grew. You’d never seen her look like that before, it wasn’t a look of anger, but one of discontent.

Quickly turning away from her, you looked between her husband and your own. “I make the same dinner every night.” You repeated, shaking your head slightly.

Mr. Vision looked confused, turning to his wife and furrowing his brow at the look she was casting over the table. He darted back to you, before crossing his gaze to James. Wanda spoke up finally, “Well if that’s your favorite meal, you tend to do that, completely normal.”

She pushed her plate back, lifting her wine glass to her lips as she locked eyes with her husband. “Completely normal.”

“But every night?” Mr. Vision spoke up, eyes flickering back to your visible unease. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, yes, I’m just not feeling my self this moment.” You explained, fiddling with your napkin as your chest still felt just as heavy.

“It’s really okay, nothing to get upset over,” Wanda nearly snapped, just enough control over her voice. “Don’t fuss it, Vis.”

“We do have it every night,” James joined, looking to you with wide eyes. “The same meatloaf, the same sides-”

Wanda cut him off with a curt laugh, “It is just meatloaf, it really doesn’t need this much issue.”

“But, my love, it seems to be affecting them a bit more than-”

“Well, that is only because you won’t leave it alone!”

In the heat of the conversation, you tried to readjust your plate but the action cause your wine glass to tip, the red wine falling and spraying across James’ crisp white shirt.

“Oh my word, I am so sorry, I really have forgotten myself.” You rushed up to dab your napkin against his shirt but it was no use, it was only setting.

“What is going on here, Wanda?” Mr. Vision seemed less fazed about the spill and more about the previous conversation.

“Oh, Vision! Would you please just drop it and get Bucky a damp cloth!”

Your frantic hands stopped in an instant, eyes snapping open wide as your husband’s hand came to wrap around your wrist. Eyes darting up to his, you both shared a look of sudden and unbridled fear.

Slowly turning to look at Wanda, her expression had fallen and that same look of discontent was taking over her. You felt a pressure in your head, right behind your eyes as you looked from her and back to your husband. Realization set in as he gripped tighter onto you.

It was as if you couldn’t move, shouldn’t move. Everything had changed in that moment, this thread of perfect that ran through the whole town had unraveled right in front of you, right across the dinner table.

“Wanda,” You began, voice shaking only slightly despite yourself. “I think you need-”

“No,” She spoke once and it held the air of being final. “No, thank you.” 

James finished his mouthful, turning to the lady of the house to make polite conversation as he placed his cutlery on his plate. “This was delicious, thank you.”

Agreeing as you finished your own mouthful, laying your napkin on the table, “Truly, Wanda, you are talented!”

She shrugged her shoulders, smiling bashfully as she turned to her husband who hadn’t touched his. “Ah, just one of my little tricks.”

-

“Did we get anything?”

“They were close, very close, but the scene seemed to reset itself and now all we have is this.”

The TV glowed bright with a slight crackle against it, the technicolor strips took over the space with a single black strip for the only words on screen. 

“PLEASE STAND BY.”

[letters-from-the-gaps]

I think I need to move the ghost

I think I need to move the ghost.

It’s been too long- months, years spent festering in the corner of my room. Whispering, muttering. Sometimes it screams, though those are thankfully less and less frequent these days. I think it’s just as sad as I am. How many days have we spent like this, catatonic on our respective sides of the studio apartment? How many hours have spilled past, staining the walls, dusting the sheets without either of us moving? Part of me thinks the Ghost is the reason for this stupor; if it would just leave, would just go away! If he would just realize his place at my side is not for him, if he would just stop trying to warm my sheets, then I would be fine! This is, of course, a cowardly stance. After all, was it not partly my fault that he left? So sure of myself, so steadfast in my own identity- swaddled in the love of a thousand others- that I bared not even a moment of mind towards him. Towards his own uncertainty. Oh, my love who could not be my love, I know it hurts to see me like this. I’ve let my own pity get the best of me, haven’t I? I still think of you fondly, you know.

Of course you know. How could you not, when you are still inundated in my being? I think of your voice when I hear the radio, and I think of your hands when I try to do the dishes (because you always had such skill, such patience, such delicacy!), and when I face down the decisions I have to make- once in a blue moon, when I gather the strength to screw my courage tight- it is your voice I listen to for council. My love. My dearest. I still pause for that fragile half-second between the too-loud clink of a dish  and your voice from the other side. I wait for it when I know it will not come because I think I am afraid to move past it, that finite little pause. What if I break it? What if it is already broken? I have mourned for you in a thousand thousand ways. I think I have chained myself to them. I think that is why I need to move. To move you, my love.

And I think it begins like this: I do not blame you for what you did. You should have been able to trust your family, should never have had to fear your mother’s scorn or your father’s belt, and yet you did. They wanted to make you strong and in doing so they broke you. But I know that you were strong. You were strong in the little ways, in the ways that you held me, or the ways that you taught your students, or the ways that you showed kindness to strangers you would never see again. You were strong without thinking, and I will forever hold a kernel of resentment for your parents. You were never meant to swing from our ceiling, and you were never meant to stay here after you did. I think I have held you here. I do not blame you for what you did, but this is not all there is to the healing. The second part is this: I am angry at you for leaving. You were strong, but you never let me use my own strengths. You never let me council you, never let me close enough to stitch up the tears and gashes of your psyche, of your tender heart. I am angry at you for never letting me close enough to help you, for only showing me yourself in full after you were gone. I’m mad you did it in our home. I’m mad at how rarely you told me you loved me: not because I didn’t think you loved me. I knew you did, I knew it when you reminded me to eat, when you helped me pick out what to wear, when you cooked me my favorites after a long day, even if yours had been longer. No, I’m angry because you never trusted yourself enough to make that love tangible, real. Concrete.

These two dichotomies have to exist. I have to let them exist, because if I don’t I am terrified that you will never leave. That I will forever be a broken, lonely man, pining after his own lonely, broken man. I will not let that be how we- how you- are remembered. We were not broken men when you first kissed me, and we were not broken men when we moved into this little place, and I was not a broken man when I sobbed over your grave, and I will not be a broken man now. Come, my love. Help me up, and I will take you with me. Where are we going? I don’t rightly know- I thought we could just wander, us two? Maybe we’ll swing by the park, and you can bid the squirrels adieu. Maybe we’ll pass under the bridge, and I can give old Tom and Bill and Georgia some bread, or maybe some of your socks. Maybe we can stop by the schoolhouse. Maybe, maybe, maybe. Maybe this is how I will say goodbye, my love.

This is how I will move your ghost.

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Bound Blood (Cassandra Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 5.5 Bonus

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T+ for language Warnings: None Summary: Local feral human spends some time with their new family. Four short bits featuring Daphne (Maiden OC), Bela, Lady D, Daniela, and a surprise guest. Enjoy. Previous Chapters: 1: Sharing Is (Not) Caring; 2: Bloodbath, Baby!, 3: Haunt Me Dearly, 4: Portraits For Ghosts, 5: Heart Of The Matter

5.5: Family

i.

“Wait, you’re telling me that you came here willingly?” You asked, mouth agape, eyes wide. It felt like every time you talked to Daphne she had something incredible to say. Which was, of course, why she was your favorite maiden to talk to. That, and the fact that she had adapted so quickly to your ‘charming personality’. So far she was the only servant you had been willing to be honest with. Mainly about your feelings regarding your blood bond, but also just about your relationship with Cassandra in general. Something about Daphne simply made her incredibly approachable. From what you had heard, you weren’t the only one to think as such, with her being fairly popular among the castle workers.

“More of us do than you might expect. Some consider it an honor to serve one of the four Lords, and Castle Dimitrescu is certainly… nicer than either the factory or the reservoir. Personally, I came here for a friend of mine. She, well, had less of a choice. I couldn’t bear the thought of her being here without knowing anyone, so it felt like I only had one option. Can’t say I regret my decision, if you can believe it,” Daphne explained, folding laundry all the while. At the same time, you carefully sort through the not yet washed clothing, separating them into two baskets. After all, you wouldn’t want Lady Dimitrescu to end up with a pink dress! Technically this wasn’t your job, nor did you have a job at all, but you hated having idle hands- especially when talking to someone who was working. At first Daphne had protested, but she had given in upon realizing just how stubborn you could be.

“That’s… impressive. I mean, holy shit, that's a real ride or die friendship right there. Is she, uh, is your friend still, you know, around?” You stuttered, cursing your tongue for asking such a thing. If the answer was no, you were going to feel like a real asshole. Which, admittedly, you had a tendency to be. But this wasn’t one of the times where it was intentional. Thankfully, Daphne is all smiles, and even seems amused by your spluttering.

“Yes, we’re even roommates. Well, us and five others. Possibly with a sixth one on the way, if we ever get someone to fill the empty space,” she replies, pausing to think. Then she’s back to work, refusing to waste any time. “Speaking of roommates… I know I said I’m not one for gossip, and I meant it, but a little songbird told me that Cassandra seems to be in a much better mood these days. Are the two of you, well, getting along? It would be nice to know that soulmates can overcome even the roughest of introductions.” There’s a hint of something odd in her tone, and you take a moment to wonder what she’s (unintentionally) hinting at. Had she met her soulmate, only for things to go poorly?... Before answering her, you make a mental note, deciding to see if any of the other maidens had a scar across their nose.

“It’s not like she and I are dating or anything. We’re just, you know, not hating each other. Currently,” you said, shrugging. But Daphne raises an eyebrow at you, and you find yourself instinctively feeling guilty, somehow feeling small next to the shortest person you knew. “Alright, alright, we might have… Okay we kissed. And promised each other not to die, because having your soulmate die hurts like hell. Also maybe she showed me her mom’s art collection and I made a joke about the titty sculptures because holy shit, this house has a lot of titties.” At this, Daphne bursts into laughter, grinning from ear to ear.

“Amen to that, for sure.”

ii.

“So… fan of science, I see,” you say, awkwardly, bouncing a little on your heels. Next to you is the eldest Dimitrescu daughter, who had unexpectedly joined your table in the library. There were several other places she could have sat, with both more comfortable seating and more workspace, but for some reason she had chosen here. So far she hadn’t said a word. Hell, you hadn’t spoken to her since your first meeting, where she had suggested killing you. Naturally, you weren’t quite sure what to make of her. Something told you that she felt much the same about yourself.

“Fan of oversimplification, I see,” Bela counters, after a few tense seconds. Then she sets down her book- a heavy text about Romanian avian fauna- to give you her full attention. “It would be more accurate to say that I enjoy studying biology, particularly the branch of zoology.” Well, this conversation was certainly… happening. Honestly, you couldn’t tell whether she was legitimately judging you, or merely chaffing you for her own amusement.

“You’ll have to, er, forgive me for being overly broad. Consider it a side effect of my nerves, those themselves being due to our unsavory introduction. In case you don’t recall, you put that sickle of yours into my shoulder,” you reminded, with a sarcastic smile. To your surprise, Bela chuckles at this, almost as if fondly remembering the incident. Seriously, you think, why did my soulmate have to be from this family?

“Staying silent was an option. Perhaps that would have suited you better?” Bela says, now clearly teasing, smile much more genuine than your own. Knowing she had a point, you’re quick to blush, mildly embarrassed.

“Touche. I am curious, however, why you decided to sit next to me in the first place. I certainly wouldn’t have tried starting a conversation if you hadn’t,” you explained.

“Like I said… I enjoy studying zoology,” Bela replies, with a sly grin. It takes you a few moments to understand the intended implications. Once you do, however, you’re giving her a hard stare. Then you scoot your chair a few inches away from her, in exaggerated movements. “Don’t worry, I was only joking. Though you certainly are an interesting human. Much more, hmm, cheeky? Compared to the servants, at least.”

“Somehow I get the feeling that they simply prefer being alive, as opposed to not being as snippy. Except maybe Daphne, now that I think about it. Very sweet, that one,” you muse. “Regardless, I think I’ll return to my book now, for it lacks a tongue, and is therefore less likely to taunt me.” Doing just as you had said, you open the book, holding it a bit higher than what would be comfortable, so that it becomes a ‘shield’ of sorts. Nothing was quite as satisfying as subtle body language.

Accepting your words with a shrug, Bela also resumes reading, turning to a bookmarked page. Roughly an hour of relative quiet passes. Neither of you so much as glance at each other, not even when she drops the pen she had been taking notes with. In the end, you are the one who leaves first, and finally the silence is broken. You give your goodbyes, and Bela returns them politely. Though you do not know it, she sets her book down as soon as you leave, pausing to think about you. Now that things had ‘calmed down’, it was reassuring for her to know that you weren’t always full of spite. Still, you held onto your cleverness (for the most part), leaving her with no doubt about the universe’s decision. You were her sister’s soulmate.

iii.

“It’s official: I’m lost in a creepy castle. The universe hates me. Probably should have realized that sooner, considering how it decided to introduce me to my soulmate,” you mutter, scowling deeply, as you wander unfamiliar halls. How had you even gotten lost? Sure, you had taken a wrong turn, but it hadn’t taken long for you to realize your mistake! Evidently you somehow managed to make another one while backtracking. Now you were standing in the center of the corridor, hands on your hips, desperate for some maiden to come rescue you. What you really didn’t want was Cassandra to find you, because she’d make fun of you for the rest of your life. It’s not like she had specifically joked about you getting lost before. Except that was exactly what had happened.

A few minutes pass uneventfully. There aren’t even any distant sounds of life; no footsteps, nor echoing voices, nor the squeaking of floorboards. All you can hear is your own breathing. As well as the occasional sigh, admittedly. By this point, there’s a part of you that’s starting to panic. After all, there was a chance that the castle was big enough for certain sections to be abandoned. Hopefully that’s not the case, you think, I mean, they’d cut the power to those parts, right? Here’s hoping… With that in mind, you get back to wandering, figuring that you’d have to eventually run into a familiar landmark. Or better yet, someone who actually knew the castle’s layout.

When salvation at last reveals its holy visage, it is not in the form of a lowly servant, rather the muffled voice of none other than Lady Dimitrescu herself. Neither her exact words nor who she’s speaking to is clear. At first, you can’t even tell where her voice is coming from, but you quickly approach one closed door, then another, searching for the source. Several doors later you’re certain you’ve found her. By then you can tell that she’s not alone. Not wanting to seem rude by interrupting, you take a few steps back, leaning against the wall to wait. For the most part you still cannot make out what’s being said, but a few words do reach your ears.

“-expected more from you. How am I-” the voice gets cut off, not by Alcina, rather a sudden gust of air, akin to massive wings flapping. When the speaker continues, they are both louder and angrier. “Someone is listening. Have you not taken steps to ensure our privacy?” Then the door is swinging open, revealing your soulmate’s mother. At first she’s practically shaking with rage, but her expression turns to shock when she sees you.

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with Cassandra?” Lady Dimitrescu asks, clearly stressed, as she steps into the corridor. There’s movement behind her, although you cannot make out any details. Besides, you’re quick to answer her, wishing to avoid her wrath (and that of whoever she was speaking to).

“I’m so sorry, Lady Dimitrescu, I was walking from the dining hall to Cassandra’s studio, and I took a wrong turn. I’ve been wandering for half an hour now. When I heard your voice, I thought perhaps I could, well, enlist your assistance. But you were busy, so I figured I’d wait outside. If I had-...” you pause, gulping, as the other figure steps into view. It’s a face you’re all too familiar with. One that popped up countless times through the village, and again throughout the castle, the owner’s name always spoken with acclaim, with worship. Mother Miranda, in the flesh, wings spreading out behind her, somehow cutting a more impressive silhouette than even Lady Dimitrescu. Instantly you’re falling to your knees, knowing that your sharp tongue was no match for this practical goddess.

“Who is this, Dimitrescu? Why isn’t their blood staining your claws?” Miranda questions, gaze never leaving your trembling form.

“This… this is one of my daughters’ soulmates. They were brought in with the last group of sacrifices,” Lady Dimitrescu explains, uncharacteristically hesitant. ‘Twas a true testament to Miranda’s power, as well as her influence, that she could make someone so powerful seem so weak. Which was exactly why you were shaking with anxiety. But to your surprise, the goddess does not immediately order your execution for your trespass.

“And already they know their place, hmm? Kneeling before me?” Miranda says, a strange smile dancing on her lips. Whatever anger she had been feeling a minute prior had faded, though you couldn’t even begin to guess as to why. Regardless, both Alcina and yourself are quite relieved, though neither of you are quick to show it. “Either they have a good head on their shoulders, or you still take care of some of your duties. Very well, they may live. For now. But I expect next week’s report to be far more favorable. I don’t need to remind you of the price for failing me.” With that said, Mother Miranda turned to leave, a swirling mass of dark feathers flying past you.

A minute passes, maybe two, before either of you feel capable of speaking up.

“Let’s get you back where you belong, yes?” Lady Dimitrescu says, quietly, before placing her hand on your shoulder to guide you. Tension hangs clear and heavy over both of you. Even as you walk down corridor after corridor, the feeling does not ease. At least not until you’re back in familiar territory, near where you had originally made your mistake, finally able to breathe a little. It’s here that Lady Dimitrescu pauses to speak once more. “Tomorrow I will assign one of the servants to give you a tour, in the hopes that this does not happen again. Furthermore, I ask that you forget everything you heard earlier, for it is neither your business… or my daughter’s.” You’re quick to nod, and with that she bids you farewell, leaving you alone. Now, you think, was it left from here, or right?

iv.

“I’m just going for a walk. Why do you care so much? It’s not like it’s any of your business,” Daniela assures you, despite the fact that all you had done was say ‘hello’. If this was her attempt at casting aside suspicion, she had done a terrible job of it. What made her so nervous? Was it even worth investigating? Only one way to find out.

“You’re rather bundled up, planning on being out for long?” You ask, trying to sound casual, leaning against the wall as you did. In response, Daniela pretty much stomps her foot. There’s something odd in her expression, however, that implies your question hit a soft spot. Certainly wasn’t what you had expected. “Don’t mind me, just trying to make conversation with my soulmate’s sister. Speaking of her… have you seen Cassandra? Is she, perhaps, going with you?” A little misdirection never hurt anyone. Probably.

“No!” Daniela replies, fast as a gunshot, too much emphasis to be unintentional. But she realizes her mistake as soon as she’s made it, and makes a clear effort to relax herself. “She’s probably in her studio, doing whatever it is she calls art, on the other end of the house. Besides, I don’t want any company for this walk.” For a moment you merely squint at her, unsure of how to proceed. In the end, you decide that it really is none of your business, being more than satisfied by what teasing you’ve already done.

“Alright, alright. Well then, I’ll leave you be. Just… be careful, yeah? If you get hurt, and your mother finds out that I didn’t stop you from going… not sure Cassandra could save me,” you say, with a shrug. At first Daniela can’t decide whether to be upset or relieved, but she seemingly settles for the latter, giving you a brief nod before heading outside. As the door shut behind her, you couldn’t help but wonder if you had done the right thing.

[saturnsstufff]

The Empress (pt. III)

Hello lovelys! Incase no one told you today, I think your spectacular!

Also, lets be real. This part really shows how much I love Buff Techno

Warnings: mentions of violence, swearing, blood

   You couldn't believe what you were hearing. The Emperor was asking you to sit and eat with him. With his family. You didn't want to come off rude or impolite, so you simply nodded and walked over to the remaining open seat. Phil pulled the chair out for you a bit, you lowered yourself onto it and pushed yourself in.

   To say the room was beautiful was a understatement. The table was made of elegant dark oak, the edges lined with detailed gold. The chairs matched the table with wood. But the seats had a plush Black velvet cover over the cushions. The backs of the chairs stood taller than you, Techno's chair was the most detailed and the tallest out of them all. When you glanced up at Techno you were only met with the skull staring forward.

   You honestly became nervous now. Your hands grew clammy as you held a bit of your cloak. Yesterday you had no problem being in front of this family and now you were terrified of offending them. The Family was known for being nothing short of dangerous, and blood thirsty. Yet when you look to Philza, or Wilbur who sat in front of you. You couldn't see how, they were perceived as dangerous. Don't get yourself wrong, you saw how Techno could be seen as terrifying, the man stood at well over 6ft, maybe approaching 7ft?

   Wil watched you a bit, taking note of the complex look you had. "So where are you from?" He asked simply, taking a drink of his milk. "Dadza said you were wearing really light clothes when he met you." The boys tone was casual. Trying to set your wild nerves at ease.

   "O-oh, I'm from a little village in Madagascar" techno's mask faced you as you spoke. Showing you had his full attention. "It's pretty... small..." You tried of how to explain it but, every way you turned it in your head, it was still bland.

   "What's your village like? For the small size is it well off or strugglin'?" Phil inquired. At this a few butlers came out with platters of food. They placed a plate full of eggs, toast, sausage and oatmeal in front of Techno, Phil and you. Talk about a meal fit for a king- no pun intended. Techno only nudged his mask up a tad more. His mouth now visible more. Your eyes lingered on him. A slight scar could be seen on his lip, it looked a bit fresh if your being honest. You averted your gaze before he noticed your lingering eyes.

   "It's... struggling. We were slightly larger, but years ago there was a raid by some Pilliagers" you couldn't help your face twist into a bit of disgust. After how they humiliated your village, and father, you couldn't help hold a high distaste for them. "They ransacked what we had. The men of our village defended what they could, but too many lives were taken if you ask me." You took your fork into your hand, starting to cut up the egg.

   "Did you loose anyone close to you?" Phil spoke between bites. Only speaking when his mouth was empty. You hummed and nodded as you chewed your food. Waiting to respond out of courtesy.

   "I lost my uncle, but that luckily was all. My father was injured too, but he survived.” your eyes scanned your food, slightly pushing the food apart so it wasn't touching. “I was too young to understand when it happened, but I guess one pillager took a swing at his leg. It never healed properly since during the attack, the Pilliagers targeted the women and children mostly. Who for the most part were in charge of medicine and occasional potion brewing" You could feel Techno's lingering eyes on you. He ate in silence only listening.

   "I'm sorry to hear of your uncles demise. however, we are glad that you are ok." Phil said, resting a hand on your shoulder reassuringly. You smiled gently and nodded. the action was similar to that of what your father did. Even if Phil didn't recognize it, the little actions he did put you at ease.

   Everyone ate for a bit longer. the sounds of silverware and plates clinking were the only sound that filled the room. Techno finished his plate first. Neatly setting his dishes together. Phil and I worked at our plates still. Mostly because we were the ones talking. "What made you get into Smithing?" Phil asked. Having previously recalled you mentioning the blade was your creation.

   You took a sip of Orange juice to clear your throat of food. "When my father was injured our family suffered. Smithing was how we made money. My father couldn't stand long- he still cant. even if he could, I'm pretty sure the hammer would be too heavy for him." You paused thinking a moment. " I think I was eleven or twelve when he started showing me the tools and the trade. After a few months I could put a tool out. By no means was it good though.” You could still remember the first tool you put out. It was a twisted, warped mess. At the time you were proud, but now you rather not admit it was yours. “By the end of the year I at least could put something worth a show out. Ever since then I just continued. I didn't know how to sew or weave like my mother so I never strayed from the forge."

   "It was somthin' in your blood" Phil commented. You tilted your head slightly as you ate a bit more. Starting to feel utterly stuffed. "A lot of trade's or artistry’s get passed down so long that it just becomes part of their heritage, they seem to have a natural born talent for those knacks." He fallowed up with. "Techno is like that with sword combat" you herd a sound of disagreement from under the boar mask.

   Wil decided to chime in now. "If your blade pasts the test, what will you do with the money?" You thought a moment. In your heart you knew you had no use for it really. Your father and village however did need it.

   "I'll probably give it to my village and my father." It was a simple and cliché answer but you meant it. "I have a roof over my head at home, parents who love me, support me. For once I wanna support them." You set your spoon down. Only having ate half your oatmeal, feeling too full to finish. "My village also needs the help. The baker. The farmer. They all could use a bit of spare change." You looked up from your plate to face Phil. His eyes were kind. They glittered like your fathers, when he was proud.

   "Your very kind to offer your riches to others." you didn't expect Techno to voice his opinion. But you graciously took his complement. Your cheeks a faint pink. As you nodded. He moved his mask back to where it fit comfortably. He stood up from the table. the action commanding attention, The mask faced you. "Fetch your blade. I wish to test it."

   Ok now the nerves really set in. You stood outside on a snow covered training ground. Your head was covered by a cozy fur lined cloak. Beside you stood Wilbur, and Philza. You had the cloth wrapped sheath in your hands firmly. The sword secure in it's place. Waiting for someone to release it and show the strength it held.

   You were unsure where techno was, he was supposed to give the test but as it stood, he was nowhere to be seen. That is until he turned the corner with a thick wooden log over his shoulder. You couldn't help how your jaw dropped. You knew he had to have some strength but you didn't expect him to turn the corner with a good size Hickory log. He dropped the log in front of Phil, Wil and I. Next to it was a rather large block of ice, and a Anvil. Once Techno situated the log securely in the snow he unchained his cloak. Handing it off to Phil.

   There he stood. This monster of a man. broad shoulders drawn back, his posture perfect. Where he looked as strong as twelve oxen, he also had a elegant, ethereal beauty. His jaw was sharp, lips drawn into a thin line. His hands, although gloved, moved with precise elegance. When he breathed a puff of cloud would push itself out of the Boar's empty nasal cavity. He looked terrifyingly beautiful.

   He turned to you and outstretched his hand. A wordless request for your blade. You bit your lip. The moment had come for you to truly test it. Carefully you unwrapped the cloth, the simple sheath was the underwhelming part of the blade. however when you moved the Sheath towards Techno he made no comment on the simplicity.

   His hand easily took the handle. Skillfully he pulled the blade out. The black blade shimmered brilliantly. The purple-blue pearlescent really popped against the snow. When he saw the color of the blade you could have sworn you saw his hand falter slightly. “tis’ a beautiful blade...” was the first comment. “what is made of?” he inquired.

   You swallowed the slight lump in your throat. “It’s Netherite and Diamond” You didn't expect them to know what Netherite was, but the look Phil gave you shown that he very well knew what it was. Even Techno turned his head to face you. This is the part where you wondered if you shouldn't have said the true material.

   “Netherite eh?...” the angle was just right, you could see into the empty eye sockets and pinpoint techno’s eyes. they lingered over your blade fondly. he seemed very familiar with that type of material.

    You watched as he took notice of how the blade was well balanced. The handle was comfortable and surprisingly it fit his hands. He tossed the blade between his right and left hand. Seeing how it felt. Mentally he assumed the blade's handle would have been made small to accommodate your own hand. But he was pleasantly surprised to see you took account that maybe you would not be the one handling it. He moved the blade back to his dominant hand. Looking to the mound of ice. You felt a hand rest on your shoulder, pulling you away from Techno. You looked up to see who the hand belonged to, only realizing it was Phil. well you stood in front of Phil pressed up to him, you didn't have to look to know how much he towered over you. His wings only adding to the height. you thought it was a tad weird  that he pulled you so close, until you realized he did it to Wil was well. The action was out of protection.  your gaze shifted back to Techno. He rotated the sword in his hand once. From Phil, Wil, and your stance, all you saw was a quick movement of purple, the light bouncing of the blade beautifully as it swung. He did not delay on his swing back, it was fast and powerful. Techno simply stepped, and swung back down, hard. The idea of being on the other side of the blade seemed impossible to survive. Well he beat the sword edge against the ice, his body moved as if he was reciting a simple dance. He was testing the durability. Seeing exactly how much your blade could take. The sheer force of his hits only needed two, to break the ice chunk in half. Sliding both halves away from each other upon the swords impact. You could only watch in shock. His strength was raw and powerful. You were genuinely terrified for your little sword.

   Techno didn't let up his assault. Moving from the ice to the wood in one swift movement. Continuing to strike the hard wood. The woodchips flew in the air, you averted your eyes a bit, worried the wood might hit you. After beating a decent size gash into the wood, you spared a glance back up. He shoved the sword into the snow bank next to him. Lifting the abused log up. Placing his hands on both sides of the gash, he with little struggle, tore the log in half with his hands.

   To say that it wasn't a little bit attractive, would have been a lie. Your cheeks were pink again. but luckily you could blame it on the cold nipping at your face. You watched as techno looked at the log, now in two parts at his feet. He made no sound of disproval, or really said anything. He simply took the sword from the bank and looked over at the Anvil. ‘surely he wouldn't hit the blade on the metal’ you thought. Oh, don't worry he would. He looked down to the blade, judging it breifly before glancing the anvil. You looked away, you couldn't watch. the blade was going to break as soon as it hit the anvil. It was evident on why no one was able to past the test. The test was a fucking nightmare. 

   The only sound you could hear was a harsh ring. He did it, oh shit he really did it. Phil from above you just whistled. “tha’s a mighty blade (y/n).” you spared a glance. in Techno’s hand was your sword. structurally intact. you let out a rather large, breathy laugh of relief.

   Techno didn't congratulate you, or make a remark on your blade. instead he removed a glove and pressed his thumb to the blade. He wanted to see if it was still sharp after the pure beating it just took. You watched, now unsure if this was all positive or negative. He hummed, he wanted to say he was surprised. but he wasn't. what you didn't understand, was that he was used to Netherite. He knew it took something almost godlike to break anything with that material.

    Although the sword was beat to hell, when he pressed his thumb against the blade and applied pressure, it was still sharp enough to draw blood. He put his thumb to his lips. The hard metallic taste of blood filled his mouth from the cut he received. his lips only twisting into a bemused smirk.

    "Your blade passes" he turned to face you. Wiping his bloody thumb on his black pants before offering his hand to you in a handshake. "You are the only one that somehow designed, dare I say it. The perfect blade."

   After the event that occurred out on the field you were a giddy mess. You did it. You fallowed techno down the hall. He explained that since you did impress him, he was now wanting to open the table for a discussion and a possible contract. But first, he wanted to know how much knowledge you possess.

   He opened a large door that was detailed in gold. when you stepped in he fallowed. walking past you in a easy, lazy stride. You were in his office. the shelves were lined with books, many having titles about Mythology, histories of wars, war tactics, potion brewing, etc. The titles were endless. From the books alone you could assume he probably had knowledge on a plethora of subjects. The walls were high, the detailing never faltered however. Two Antarctica Empire flag's hung on the walls, framing the main desk. There were paintings, but unlike the one of the whole family you saw on your arrival. There was one of Phil and Techno, the mask painted on his face. The second painting was Tech and Wil. But similarly. The mask was present. Looking about a little more, there were also swords of all types on the walls. In the center of the celling there was a massive candle lit chandelier. A fireplace stood tall behind techno's desk. You only assumed the desk was placed there solely for the point of warmth.

   Technoblade took his seat at the rather large desk. His posture, was still perfect even when sitting. His hands were folded together. The rings still adorning his fingers. Everything he did, and wore just screamed elegance. "I will give you 3k for the blade. An additional 2k will be added for your trip" he said, his voice still straight.

   'Holy shit, 5k? That's far more than I thought' you were speechless. You could already imagine how the money would help. ‘Father could get the help he needed.’ ‘The farmer could build a new barn possibly’ The upgrades flowed through your mind. Hope and joy surged through your veins. "Thank you your Imperial Majesty..."

"You said you used Netherite, correct?" You nodded to him. The mask was facing you, he was quiet. But you assumed he was thinking. "Were did you find the Neitherite?" He leaned onto his desk, moving his folded hands to the desk top. Resting his head on his hands.

"A man in my village had it. It was pretty cheap to buy it off him" you thought back to the man. Trying to recall the conversation. "He uh.." you paused trying to remember it properly. "Oh- he said it was a great material when used properly. But he couldn't understand what he needed to achieve it." Techno stayed quiet a moment.

"So how did you come by the proper techniques?" He questioned. You thought back again. It was a off day when you discovered it really. You weren't trying to use it. It just fell into your pan.

"Well, I was trying to make a diamond sword for a sister village originally. But when my pan was over the fire heating, I had left the room. Not realizing the small chunk of Netherite I had on top of the mantle had somehow fallen in. When I came back I saw the discoloration of the metal, that wasn't normal so I pulled it from the fire. When it cooled I noticed it made a unusual harder substance, so from there I just started experimenting with it" he nodded and pondered what you said. He didn't linger on the subject for long however, Instead he changed it.

"I have a proposition for you. That is... if your interested of course" You looked to him. Showing he had your attention. He had mentioned something along the lines of a deal well you walked down the hall with him. "With your permission, I would like to hire you as the royal blacksmith." The skull never faced away from you. You swallowed thickly.

   "You mean... I would work here?" Your brows furrowed. "I don't live anywhere close to here..." he nodded his head, shrugging a bit.

   "I'm aware" he paused. "We would give you a room, Pay you weekly, you would have benefits. Access to the best quality material" he didn't rush all the information out. He simply just read the list from his mind. "The only thing in exchange, is for you to make my armor, weapons, and anyone else I deem fit for them." It was a basic comply. He wanted you to work for him. Have your craft explicitly his only.

   You shifted your weight as you stood. "Do I have to make a choice now?" You were hoping you didn't have to hurry this. you were already hesitant on bringing the sword down here, but now the idea of staying in this frozen tundra had you uncertain. Yes you would live in wealth, and possible glory. But, at the cost of being over a thousand miles away from your family. You also were still uncertain of the land itself.

   Techno shrugged a bit. "I mean, I'm in no particular hurry" he explained. Tilting his head to the side a tad. If you accept, you knew what it meant. Your devotion to a nation, to the royal family, to the Emperor. You really would be making a shot in the dark.

   "If I work here. Could I send the money elsewhere?" He watched you. You couldn't see his eyes, but you could feel them eating away at you.

   "We can arrange that." You watched him in turn. Trying to see if he had a underlying plan, or possible catch to add. "I mean, I am a lenient man" his hands unclasped. Opening his arms slightly to motion to himself.

   "R-right... of course" you nodded. Agreeing with him, not wishing to anger him. He pondered a moment before he stood from his chair. The chains, and pendants around his neck jingling slightly from his movement.

   "I look forward to hearing your answer"

   About a week had gone by before you had your answer. During the said week you started to notice the family had a slight routine. Phil would come for you in the morning to walk you to the dining hall for breakfast. after that Wilbur would either roam to the music room, or to the library to do some of his studies. Techno was harder to pinpoint, sometimes he would leave to his office, be in the library, or other times he would walk towards the room with the planes. No matter what, Phil kept you in good company and made you fell welcomed.

   You choose to tell techno of your answer over dinner. Assuming it would be a decent time since that was when everyone was together. The dinner was casual. Since your stay was expanded, the boys would roam the hall’s in there casual wear instead of there more formal, business attire.

   “So I've thought on it..” Your voice broke through the peaceful silence. Techno and Phil lifted there heads to address you. Wil looked up at you as well, the noodles from the dinner slipping from his lips back into the soup bowl. “I’ll work for you... if you would still have me.”.

“of course we’ll have ya’” Phil said, his smile wide. “It’s been nice havin’ someone new and different around these halls” you smiled a little and nodded to him, looking over to Techno. 

“I do have two questions though...” techno gave a slight nod to you, motioning for you to continue. "If I choose to quit at any point. Could I?" Techno, hummed and nodded.

"Of course, that would only be right." a bit of weight was lifted from your shoulders knowing this wasn't a endless contract type of deal.

”My other question is a bit personal, but could I go back to my village to explain my new job to my parents? I don't feel right sending it through a letter.” You chewed your lip, hoping you weren't over stepping your bounds of what you could request.

Phil answered for Techno. “I don't see why not, me and Tech were discussing going on a trip anyway.” your eyes lit up, you would see your parents again. “You could tag along with us. of course we’ll be making trips other than Madagascar. techno was talking about visiting Russia, and France” you tilted your head a bit.

“why Russia? you already live on a ice cube” you said, humoring Phil, earning a chuckle.

“They have a few things Techno and I have been looking for” he said, continuing back on his dinner. You thought on it a moment and shrugged. nodding your head, you turned your attention back to your food. 

“when would you like to leave?” you asked, curious of when you should pack your bag again. Techno hummed a bit.

“We were thinking of leaving in two days time.” He set his fork down before looking up at you. “I wouldn't worry about packing, we will not be traveling in our typical attire. We plan to dress down” Techno said as he wiped his mouth with the napkin. “I'll have some simpler clothes sent to your room”

You were a little surprised. They planned to travel, but not in there imperial attire? That's what you assumed he meant at least. Either way you were excited. Not only would you be seeing your parents, but you also would be taken to Russia and France. Man if this was your new job, you could get used to this.

@goldensunshineshit @snobunns @olyink @lolitsellieletsgobro

[free-pool-trash]

utopia- peter maximoff

yeah... im back being in love with Peter <3 enjoy loves <3

word count: 3k

warnings: angst and fluff, wandavision spoilers

id be open to writing more parts if anyone was interested <3 (I wrote this at 4am if it’s all over the place im sorry)

masterlist

You didn’t know much, but one thing was for certain; you didn’t belong here.

This morning you had opened your eyes and were met with a town that seemed like the very definition of the suburban dream. Your mind screamed at you as soon as you came to in the strange and indisputably new environment, telling you that this town was your home. The fact that you couldn’t remember anything before your eyes had fluttered open didn’t fill you with the utmost confidence about the legitimacy of the voice in your head, or the utopia that surrounded you.

All you knew was that you came here to look for someone. This someone was someone very important to you and you had a feeling that you were exactly where you needed to be to find this someone. There was one minor problem though; you didn’t have a clue who this special someone was, just that you needed to find him.

Cautiously, you found yourself wandering the town that seemed to be lost in time. All of its residents dressed like they were all attending an 80s themed party, yourself included. You couldn’t recall pulling on the ridiculous getup but that voice told you not to worry about it. It wasn’t long before you were in the middle of the town square, people bustled around you happily, all of them eerily going about their day as if they hadn’t a care in the world. Nobody looked stressed or sad or anything other than animatedly happy.

The realisation caused a slight panic to begin in your chest, there was something very wrong happening here and you didn’t know what. The very second you began to show anything that didn’t come across as positively blissful, the voice you’d been hearing since you opened your eyes sounded in your brain, louder than ever.

You are happy here. WestView is home. You are home.

Despite her soothing tone, you weren’t convinced.

“Who are you?” You demanded out loud, whipping your head in all directions, eyes set in a glare as you watched the citizens of the town acting none the wiser to your question.

Within seconds a woman appeared before you, a sweet smile on her face and two children by her side. “Hey there, you must be the new neighbour.” She spoke kindly, something familiar about the woman caused you to immediately relax in her presence although that relaxation felt somewhat… forced.

With a hesitant nod you looked around again, you brought your eyes back to the little family and offered them your best friendly smile, “It seems I must be, yeah.”

The lady giggled and held her hand out towards you, “Nice to meet you, I’m Wanda. And these two are Billy and Tommy.” You took her hand in yours, suddenly overwhelmed with an influx of thoughts that didn’t seem to be yours. Suddenly you were giving Wanda the most sparkling smile you could manage, not entirely sure why your mouth had formed such a smile for a complete stranger.

“Pleasure to meet you all.” Were the only words you could manage, still riddled with confusion as to what was going on.

Wanda returned your smile, Billy and Tommy seemed almost enamoured by you as they both stared at the new arrival. Glancing at her boys, Wanda knew she’d have to keep a very close eye on you, you were a mutant and stronger than even you knew, hard to control. But she had let you through her barricade as soon as she realised who you were and why you came.

“What’s your name?” Billy had asked and Wanda grew nervous as she noticed your eyes lose their smile for a second as you blanked on the simple question.

What was your name? It took you a moment or two before you regained your composure and extended your arm to the little boy in front of you who shook it excitedly, “Y/n. My name is Y/n, it’s really nice to meet you two.”

“Say, would you like to come and have dinner with us?” Wanda offered and you nodded your head gratefully.

“Dinner would be lovely. I’m feeling quite airy today, a good feed might help.” You told her with a laugh.

You walked to what you assumed to be Wanda’s residence, Billy and Tommy spoke excitedly to you as you walked, the pair of them strolled on either side of you fighting for your attention and entertaining you as they constantly tried to one up each other.

“You’re so cool! I can’t wait for uncle piet to meet you!” Tommy commented, prompting a soft smile from Wanda and an agreeing nod from Billy.

With a laugh you ruffled the boys’ hair, “Uncle Piet, huh? I bet I’m way cooler than that guy.”

“Don’t let him hear you say that.” Wanda laughed, her hold on you lessening as you began to relax on your own accord.

It only took a few more minutes until the four of you arrived at their house. As you entered you took a second to take in the interior, the 80s theme not as glaringly out of place to you as it had been earlier.

“Vis! Pietro! I’m home and I’ve brought a guest!” Wanda’s sweet voice sounded from the kitchen.

“Uncle Piet hurry up! Come meet our new friend!”

“Come on! Come on! Hurry up!”

Billy and Tommy yelled up the stairs impatiently and you smiled fondly at the boys, crossing your arms over your chest as you anticipated meeting ‘the funnest guy in the whole world’.

“M’coming! Jeez.” The deep voice made you freeze. For the first time since you arrived in WestView you could finally say you recognised something.

The thumping of feet running down the stairs had your heart beating out of your chest and when you finally came face to face with the man the twins had praised so highly you thought your ribs were at risk of breaking from how rapidly it was pumping.

The man looked at the twins, expectantly, “Alright. Where’s the one making you two so excited?” He hadn’t noticed you yet.

With a shaky breath, it bagan coming back to you, he was the someone you were looking for. He wasn’t just someone special, he was your love. And there he stood, silver hair unkempt as usual and his signature grin painted his lips.

“She’s-“ Billy started but Peter cut him off.

“She? You guys get yourself a lil girlfriend? Huh?” He wiggled his eyebrows and you couldn’t help the breathless laugh that left you. He was still your Peter. Funny, lighthearted, great with children and not completely thoughtless behind his gorgeous doe eyes like the rest of the town’s residents.

The airy laugh caused a shiver to run up his spine. No, you couldn’t be here. Not you. But he knew without even turning his head that it was you, his girl, the love of his life. The loyalist person he’d ever had the privilege of being able to love. Of course you’d follow him to a whole different reality.

He whipped his head in your direction, his mouth falling open as his eyes landed on your form, your eyes shining the way they always did when you’d see him after a long mission.

“Peter?” The boy felt his heart crack as your expression dissolved into something between confusion and panic. He quickly zoomed over to you and pulled you into him, pressing your head into the crook of his neck to hide your expression from Wanda who had yet to return from the kitchen.

His lips hovered close to your ear, “Pietro, you have to call me Pietro. I’ll explain everything, I promise just act natural for me, alright?” He murmured, moving his hand comfortingly up and down your back, aware that the twins were watching Peter pulled away but wrapped an arm around your shoulder and you forced yourself to smile as the pair of you faced the boys.

“How’d you guys manage to find my girlfriend in this dump?” He asked jokingly, smirking proudly as their faces dropped.

Billy glared and raised his little eyebrow at his uncle, “Your girlfriend?”

“You were right, you two. He definitely is the funnest person but I still win in the cool department.” You said, laughing nervously and hoped you weren’t being too conspicuous.

“Oh come on,” Peter groaned, “I haven’t seen you in forever and you’re already making fun of me in front of my nephews? That’s cold.” He pressed his lips to your temple, keeping them there for a few seconds, they were firm and sure and they let you know that he was really with you, you’d found him and he was real.

When Wanda re entered the room you felt your shock ebb as if it were being drowned beneath the surface before you could calm it naturally. You allowed your body to melt into Peter, your unintentional, sitcom worthy smile making his way across your lips again.

“Oh good, so you two have met then?” Wanda grinned, knowingly. Peter gave her a grin of his own.

“We’ve done more than meet.” He told her suggestively and you poked his ribs gently.

“You should’ve told me you were a Maximoff,” You giggled out as Peter littered your face with kisses while the twins gagged, the silver haired man pulled away from you for only a second to stick his tongue out at his nephews before he returned his attention to you as you chastised Wanda softly, “I would’ve been able to prepare myself to see this loser.”

Peter scoffed and gently pushed you away before speeding to catch up with your body. He wrapped his arms around your torso from behind and rested his chin on your shoulder, “She loves me really.”

Peter knew exactly what Wanda was after; a perfect family. He understood that’s what she wanted but he didn’t know how far she would go to achieve that goal. He had to make sure you played along, he couldn’t lose track of you again.

Your next words caused a stir in the hearts of both the siblings, your head was turned and your gaze was locked on Peter’s face, eyes free of any outside emotion as you broke out of Wanda’s hold and what Wanda read off your face wasn’t fear nor confusion, it was nothing but pure adoration for her brother.

“I do. I really do.” You told him, eyes becoming glassy before Wanda managed to regain control of your mind. You cleared your throat and gave Peter an airy smile, gently placing your lips against the curve of his jaw and he bit the inside of his cheek as he held you, allowing the conversation to flow easily and trying his best to support you as you unknowingly exhausted yourself fighting against his sister's hold.

He had a feeling you hadn’t remembered your mutation yet. You were one of the most powerful mutants Xaviers School had ever seen, your powers similar to Jean and Charles himself. Telekinesis was a tricky game, especially when you weren’t aware of it.

He remembered when he’d met you, you were with Charles and Hank, in his basement and asking for his help. He smiled to himself when he thought of how you’d been just as confused as him at the time.

You had no control over your telekinesis back then, similarly to now as you sat playing a board game with the twins, lights would flicker when you laughed and the very ground you walked on would shake if you got angry enough.

“Her mutation, it’s strong.” Wanda commented breezily as if it were nothing, floating through the kitchen going about her business as Peter’s eyes never left your form.

With a sigh he murmured, “She’s powerful, Wands. Trust me when I tell you that this whole thing could come crashing down if you don’t let her access her mutation.”

Wanda paused, her jaw clenched. With a flick of her wrist the panel that was allowing Peter to gaze at you from his place in the kitchen shut in his face. He turned to face Wanda then, an incredulous look on his face.

“What do you mean.” Peter only let out a tired laugh.

He shook his head, “Why did you let her in in the first place? You could’ve kept her out if you didn’t want her here.”

“She came for you, Pietro. You were the only thing on her mind. I didn’t realise she had power until I’d let her in.” She seethed, glaring at Peter.

“Maybe this was a mistake…” Wanda began, clenching and unclenching her hands as she considered her next actions. Noticing her uncertainty, Peter stood up and approached her as she spoke, “I should send her back.”

Panic flooded the speedster and before his sister could so much as move a finger he grabbed both of her hands in his, “No!” He shouted, desperately.

“Please don’t. I’ll look after her, just… just don’t take her away from me. Not again.” He begged, shaking his head frantically and Wanda knew in that moment that sending you away would create more problems than it would solve.

With a steady nod Wanda squeezed her brother’s hands, “She’ll stay here. But she’s your responsibility now. If she becomes a problem she’ll have to go.” His sister explained causing Peter to once again nod his head frantically.

“There’s an empty house next door. It’s yours, take her home, she’s tired I can tell.” Peter left the kitchen without another word, a smile on his face as if the conversation with Wanda hadn’t shook him to his core.

When he entered the living room he watched fondly as Billy tried to impress you and Tommy sat contently beside you. Wanda had released you from her influence and you were simply fighting sleep while simultaneously keeping the twins occupied. Even without your mutation, Peter knew you were a superhero.

“Alright, nerds. Stop bugging my girl.” Peter walked casually to the couch and pulled you up gently, kissing your temple like he had done earlier, “Let’s go home, sweetheart.”

When he pulled away you were looking at him, your expression somewhat defeated, “Home?” That’s right, he reminded himself, you didn’t know where home was.

He nodded gently, interlocking your fingers with his and led you to the front door.

“Bye boys!” He called over his shoulder, not bothering with a proper goodbye tonight.

True to her word, the house next door was vacant and ready for the couple to move into. As soon as the front door was shut Peter attached his lips to yours, feverishly moving his hands to your cheeks as you melted against him.

“I’ve been looking for you for so long.” You croaked, pulling away, select memories had began to return upon meeting his lips.

Completely overwhelmed you nuzzled your cheeks into his palms when tears began to leak from your eyes. Peter pulled you closer, bringing his forehead to rest against yours, “I know, baby. But I’m right here, I’ve got you.”

His words had only served to push you further towards the edge and you gripped his wrists to keep his hands in place, using him as an anchor. He shushed you gently once the picture frames nailed to the wall began to clatter against the plaster while you struggled to even out your breathing.

“I couldn’t think, Pete. I couldn’t- I couldn’t keep her out. There’s something so wrong here, we need to get out- we have to get out.” You rambled, tears streaming down your face now as the panic Wanda had pushed away from you earlier now manifested into a full blown panic attack.

“Hey, hey, hey, Y/n, look at me, okay? Neither of us are under her control right now, you’re safe, you’re with me and I’m not going to let her so much as flick her wrist at you, do you understand me?” He spoke steadily and sternly, caressing your face so gently as if he was afraid you’d break.

After a second or two, the walls stopped shaking and you let Peter guide you to the stairs and into a double room. Carefully, he undressed you and redressed you into the shirt he’d been sleeping in, something in him just knowing being surrounded by his scent would calm you down.

Your hands snaked around his waist after he finished getting himself changed, with a content sigh you pressed your lips against his shoulder before pulling away to look into his eyes, “You’re sure you’re okay?”

Peter nodded his head, eyes softening at your concern, “M’better now.”

Before you could respond Peter had zoomed the pair of you into the floral double bed. He lay on his back, his silver hair sprawled against the pillow and his eyes looking at you contently. You gazed at him from your space against his chest, your body completely flush to his, the arm he had wrapped around your waist making you feel safe.

He hummed in approval as your finger lazily traced his jaw, he grinned dorkily, he watched your eyes fluttering open and shut as you struggled to stay awake. Peter wrapped both arms around you tightly, pulling you up ever so slightly to let your face rest against the crook of his neck.

“I love you, Y/n.” He whispered when he felt your fingers toying with his hair gently.

You hummed, pecking the skin of his neck, “I love you, Peter. Or should I say Pietro?” He couldn’t stop his chuckle when he felt your lips form into a smirk as you continued to peck lightly at his neck.

Peter shook his head, his hands moving up and down your back, slowly and softly as he told you, “Nah, I just wanna be Peter with you. You’re the only person in this wacko town who knows who I am.”

“We’ll get out… and then we can go back to being whoever we were before we ended up here.” You spoke sleepily, but honestly, he knew you believed what you were saying.

He wanted to ask why you’d put yourself in this situation but he knew why. And he knew he’d follow you into anything like this too.

Maybe he shouldn’t have been proud of the love the pair of you shared, considering it had landed you in a borderline tyrannical suburbia. But even a barrier that wiped memories, a witch who could bend time, space and the very reality around her couldn’t keep the two of you apart.

Neither of you knew what would happen in the future but that didn’t matter so long as you had each other. As your breath evened out against his neck Peter promised himself that he’d find a way to get you both out, get everyone out.