#and just tell him plainly in that soft ponderous voice 'i want you'

[bosspigeon]

Gort and Maw could’ve one day been an evil autistic power couple if Orin didn’t shove worms where they don’t belong 😔

truly the tragedy of the century but ain't that just like a sibling to cockblock in the most unhinged manner possible

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Something There (Chapter 7)

6.5k words

Roy Kent x Reader

Warnings: Language, mentions of sex, angst, slut-shaming and double standards, misogynist graffiti, pining, angst

Series Masterlist

I passed by that sign every day on my way to the Dog Track. Normally, it gave me a surge of pride when I saw it, this reminder of something I felt so proud and honored to be part of. But now, with those blood-red letters, it made my already broken heart die a little more.

It wasn’t as if this kind of treatment was new. Whenever my teams didn’t perform as well as expected or hoped for, suddenly we weren’t talented. Or we were dumb bitches. Or we were all on our periods. Not like when the men underperformed; then it was every excuse in the book from the horrible refs to the weather to their kitman used the wrong detergent that week.

But unlike all those other times, now I had actually done something to earn this treatment.

It wasn’t like I regretted sleeping with Roy. It was nice. He was nice. And if he was any other guy with any other job and any other reputation, I’d probably consider repeating the encounter. A few times, actually. But those ugly red letters reminded me of why it was one of the stupidest things I’d ever done.

“Come on,” Lucas urged, placing a hand on my arm. “Don’t want to be late.”

Don’t want to be late. Ha. More like don’t want to go to work today. Don’t want to face everyone at Nelson Road. Don’t want to be seen in public.

Don’t want to see Roy Kent.

Of course, I couldn’t avoid any of those things, thanks to the text Rebecca had sent me the night before, the text where she sent me that stupid, stupid article and told me to go straight to her office in the morning. Lucas and I wordlessly parted ways so he could go prepare for training while I trudged up to Rebecca’s office.

I stared at the door when I arrived upstairs. I wasn’t sure if I should knock. Or head in. Or turn around, run home, and pack my suitcase to head back to the States. Just as I was pondering the consequences of that last one, someone cleared their throat behind me.

And I’d have known that sound anywhere.

Roy’s eyes were pained when I turned to look at him. Mine were probably the same.

“Alright?” Before I could figure out an answer, he grimaced. “Fuck. Stupid fucking question.” He crossed his arms and shook his head. “I… It’s just… fuck.” His voice was that low, angry growl he used to use when we fought.

Never thought I’d miss fighting with Roy Kent.

The door opening caused me to jump, sending me a step closer to Roy, narrowly avoiding bumping into him. Rebecca’s face was stony as she looked us over, perfectly pink lips in a straight line. Her eyes, though, were soft, full of pity, especially when she caught sight of the miserable expression I assumed I wore.

“Best come in,” she murmured, nodding towards her office. She shut the door behind us, watching Roy and me carefully as we all took the seats around her desk. She leaned her elbows on her desk, eyes darting back and forth between Roy and myself. Finally, she opened her mouth. “I know that as your boss, it truly isn’t my business,” she started slowly. “But, considering the publicity that comes with your jobs, we should all agree on the best course of action. Now, as your friend, you don’t have to tell me if you-”

“We slept together.”

Roy’s mouth fell open as he stared at me, as if he couldn’t believe I’d said it so plainly. Rebecca simply raised her eyebrows at me.

I shrugged, forcing myself to look Roy in the eye. “What? Why deny anything? It’s what happened.” I turned back to Rebecca. “If they already have those pictures, there’s no use pretending. It’ll make us look pathetic if we try to lie. So unless you want us to deny anything happened, and then get caught in the lie when our stories don’t match, or they come up with photos of me leaving Kent’s place in the morning, let’s stick to the truth.” I let out a deep breath. “Kent and I slept together. It was consensual. We were both single at the time. The end.”

Rebecca cleared her throat. “Well. And, just for the sake of transparency between the three of us, was this a one-time thing? Or is this a regular occurrence?”

“A one-time thing,” I immediately replied, not looking at Roy. “That’s all.”

“Right.” Rebecca’s eyes flashed to Roy before returning to me. “I’ll call Keeley. We’ll work on a game plan, keep an eye on the headlines.” She sighed. “I’d love to say this’ll blow over in a day or so but… considering who you are-” She nodded to Roy. “-and the… uniqueness of your position-” She gestured towards me. “-this will probably be something we’ll be hearing about for a bit. Especially in the local press.” She shook her head. “Neither of you deserve this, of course. Believe me, I know quite a bit about how you feel, although I’m sure it’s no consolation.” She offered me a sad smile. “Why don’t you head on down to your team? I’m sure they’re anxious to see how you’re doing.”

I stood, not needing an excuse to get out of that room. With nothing but a small nod to Rebecca, I turned and did my best not to sprint out of the room, desperate to get away from those sad brown eyes.

~

Rebecca stared at Roy as they listened to the door close, leaving the two of them alone. It had been a while since they’d had a proper chat, just the two of them, but it seemed that Rebecca was still an expert in making Roy squirm with just a quirked eyebrow.

“One-time thing?”

“Hmmph.” Roy slouched in his chair and crossed his arms, wondering how long Rebecca would keep him in her office.

She tilted her head, pity evident on her face. “You… you don’t want it to be a one-time thing, do you Roy?”

Roy let out a growl of a sigh. “It doesn’t fucking matter what I want,” he murmured. “It’s about her. This is her reputation, her career they’re fucking with. It’s different for her than for me. I need to respect what she wants.”

Rebecca’s face crumpled, her heart breaking at the pain she could see on her dear friend’s face. No amount of pep talks could help him now. At least, not one from her.

“I’m sorry, Roy,” was all she could manage. “I’m truly sorry.”

Feeling that this was enough of a dismissal, he stood and waved absently as he left her office. He slogged down to the changing room, where the Greyhounds were changing, their conversations much quieter than he was used to. That low chattering came to a stop the moment he entered the room, confirming that the guys had indeed been talking about him. He sighed and closed the door to the office, wanting a moment with just his team.

“Alright,” he started, gaze on the ceiling before looking at the fellas. “So, I’m sure you’ve all seen those stupid fucking photos. We’re not talking about that shit because it’s no one’s fucking business, and it was vile for someone to publish them. I hear any of you mention that shit, you’re suspended, because it’ll be hard to play with broken legs.” His voice lowered as he took in the faces of the Greyhounds- sadness, disgust, pity, anger. He knew his threats weren’t necessary, but he needed to feel like he was doing something. “And if any one of you breathes a fucking word of this to any of the Whippets or Coach Buck, you’ll be off this fucking team, and I will make it my personal mission to keep you out of the Premier League for the rest of your fucking life. Understand?”

After a moment of silence, Isaac stood up from his perch on the bench. “No one talks to the press,” he commanded. “Tell them they can fuck right off with their bullshit. We don’t condone this invasion of privacy or the misogyny they’re hurling at Coach Buck. We support her, and we support the Whippets, alright?”

Sam nodded. “We’ve got your back, Roy. Every single one of us. We all agree that this is disgusting.”

“Is she okay?” Jamie slouched in the corner of the changing room, looking at Roy as if the manager was an injured puppy.

Roy stared at Jamie, the striker’s timid voice ringing in his ears. Finally, he cleared his throat and yanked open his office door. “Weight room in five,” he barked. “Time to get to work.”

~

The Whippets were already on the field when I finally joined Lucas on the sideline. My walk from Rebecca’s office to the pitch was torture; no one would look me in the eye, a far cry from the wide smiles and waves I received walking through the Dog Track after each Whippet victory.

Lucas watched me carefully as I took my place beside him, tugging the sleeves of my Richmond jacket over my hands. The team slowed when they saw me but continued their drill; surely Lucas had spoken to them while I was upstairs.

“Bring them in,” I murmured, tugging the baseball hat I wore over my eyes.

“You don’t have to-”

I shook my head. “Bring them in.”

At the sound of the whistle, the Whippets jogged over, clustering around us with wide eyes and concerned frowns. I held their gazes, refusing to let my face tilt downwards. Once they were all together and quiet, I opened my mouth.

“We’re a team,” I started slowly. “And teams are built on trust and honesty. So, I’m not going to play pretend with you ladies. There’s photos, of me. And Coach Kent.” Some of the girls exchanged glances, but no one looked too shocked; they’d surely all already seen them. “Nothing scandalous, just us going into his house after the charity gala. But people can connect the dots. And people are starting to say shit about me.” I cleared my throat. “But my priority is you. The Whippets. So, let’s just keep our heads in the game, play the Richmond way, and be the team I know we are. Good deal?”

Kira Malone spoke up first. “We got you, Coach.”

The wholehearted murmurs of agreement finally had the lump in my throat threatening to turn into tears. “Thank you, Captain. Appreciate it.” I turned to Lucas, not trusting myself to look at the team for another moment. “Coach?”

Immediately, Lucas was calling for the ladies to return to training, which they promptly did. Once they were out of earshot, I let out the shaky breath I’d been holding. Lucas reached out and took my hand in his, giving it a squeeze.

“We’ve got you.”

As much as I’d dreaded coming to work, I had to admit it was kind of nice having something to focus my energy and attention on. It was nice thinking about something other than headlines saying things like “America’s Sweet-Tart Scores with Kent” or “He’s Here, He’s There, He’s Every-f*cking-where- including Coach Buck’s Bed!” I wasn’t sure what was worse: the headlines that screamed my name, or the headlines that didn’t bother giving me one.

It was evening when I got a text from George letting me know he’d be picking me up in five. He’d been great about the whole thing; we were having drinks when I got Rebecca’s text alerting me to the photos. He immediately offered to take me home and didn’t mind when I told him I wanted to be alone- which really meant I wanted to call Lucas and sit numbly in my best friend’s arms for an hour.

I gathered my things, looking forward to the relaxing night of movies and takeout George had offered to help take my mind off things. He really was the nicest guy I’d ever gone out with, really respectful and polite. The kind of guy who’d have my parents thrilled. The kind of guy who’d happily sit in the stands and watch my games. The kind of guy who made me feel comfortable and safe.

“Oi.”

That voice had me stopping dead in my tracks as I stepped into the parking lot. Roy Kent walked over from his car, hands stuffed in his pockets, eyes scanning my face for any sign of whether or not I was going to run away from him. It was definitely a tempting option.

“So,” he started once he’d reached me, “I… I told my guys they’re not to say a fucking word about anything. Not to each other, not to the press, not to you. They’re idiots, but they’re not stupid.” He stared at me, his jaw clenched. “I… I am really fucking sorry.”

“Please stop apologizing,” I murmured, clutching my bag tightly. “You did nothing wrong, Kent.”

He nodded, as if he was trying to convince himself. “I know. Neither did you.” He took a deep breath. “Listen, that night was-”

“Ready to go?”

While Roy was talking to me, George’s car had pulled up next to us, and he was leaning out the window with that boyish grin, his eyes trained on my face pointedly. I swore I saw this eyes flicker to Roy for a fraction of a second, but I couldn’t be sure. What I was sure of was the way Roy tensed up the moment George’s voice reached us.

I gave my fellow manager a nod as I took a step towards George’s car. “I…. I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?”

A grimace covered his face. “Yeah. Have a good night.”

With a little wave, I climbed into George’s car. My face flushed when George leaned over and planted a peck on my cheek; I stared straight ahead, not wanting to know if Roy saw, and not quite knowing why it bothered me. I slunk into my seat, glancing at the newspaper on the passenger seat floor.

“Love on the field? Coaches of AFC Richmond and its girls’ team caught in scandal!”

I sighed and leaned my head against the window, wishing that a night of movies and takeout could somehow make this whole mess disappear.

~

Doctor Sharon stared at Roy thoughtfully. It wasn’t like she didn’t know about what was happening; but goodness, to hear Roy mumble out the story about him and the manager he was clearly pining over and the debacle with these horrible photos was nothing short of pitiful. He’d spent much of their session ranting about his hatred for the press, how idiotic the headlines were, and how he wanted to punch the dicks of every photographer that had been lurking around the parking lot over the last week.

“… and now she’s got this, I dunno, fucking boyfriend,” Roy spat, his eyes glued to his shoes. “Fucking reporter, of all things. Prickiest prick that ever pricked.”

“I take it you don’t like him?” Doctor Sharon mused, raising an eyebrow.

Roy sat up a little. “He’s a prick,” Roy repeated.

Doctor Sharon nodded. “So I heard.” She stared at the gaffer for a moment. “Is that why you’re so angry? Her boyfriend isn’t a nice guy?”

There was a short pause before Roy opened his mouth again. “I just… I don’t fucking know.” He twiddled his thumbs. “She said she wanted space,” he sighed. “And I figured that she just wasn’t looking to date right now. Focus on coaching.” He blinked rapidly, his gruff voice quieting. “Guess now I know she just wasn’t interested in dating me.”

“And you wanted to date her?”

After a moment of staring at his shoes, Roy nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I did.” His voice was thick. “I think… we would’ve been good together.”

A small smile appeared on Doctor Sharon’s face. “Thought you two hated each other?”

Her teasing tone was rewarded with the sight of Roy’s mouth lifting in the corner. “I thought so too,” he chuckled hollowly. “But I dunno. We were starting to get along. She’s fucking great with Pheobe. She split that charity money with me.” His eyes shifted, full of thoughts. “We had a good time at the gala.” He nodded. “She made me laugh. Dancing with her was nice. And afterwards, we just, you know, had a drink, talked about football.” He sighed, a heavy sound that filled the office. “Talked about being injured, retiring, all that shit. It was, I don’t fucking know, real. She fucking understood. Didn’t look at me with pity.” He looked away from Doctor Sharon’s face, his own face reddening. “And the… other stuff was pretty nice too.” Another sigh escaped his lips. “Just, for the first time since Keeley, I felt like I might have found someone. Someone who, I dunno.” He looked Doctor Sharon in the eye. “You know?”

“A partner?” Doctor Sharon offered.

“Yeah.” Roy cleared his throat. “A partner.”

Roy wasn’t sure how he felt when he left Doctor Sharon’s office. He didn’t feel better, but at least he didn’t feel worse. Mostly he felt heard, which he had to admit was nice. As he made his way back down to his office to pack up his things, the wheels in his head started turning. One of the things he told Doctor Sharon was how fucking helpless he felt, how he felt like he wanted to do something.

When he reached his office, that something occurred to him.

He pulled out his phone and dialed.

“Roy?” Trent Crimm’s voice was filled with confusion. “Something wrong?”

“You’re really asking me that?” Roy’s eyebrow quirked with amusement. “You haven’t seen the fucking headlines?”

Trent laughed, and Roy could just picture the writer adjusting his glasses. “No, I have. I’m just a bit surprised you’re calling me. How’re you holding up by the way?”

Roy sat at his desk and leaned back. “Not answering that one,” he grumbled. He glanced at the empty Whippets’ office. “I… need a favor.”

“What’s up?”

He leaned his elbows on his desk. The wheels in his head were spinning faster than they had in a long time. “All this bullshit with those photos,” he said slowly. “Would you be able to… find out where that came from?” The long pause on Trent’s end had him continuing. “I know there’s like journalistic integrity- fucking oxymoron by the way- but I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”

“You’re not…” Trent cleared his throat. “… going to kill anyone are you?”

That year at the Dog Track had truly helped Trent understand Roy. “No, nothing like that,” Roy assured him. “I just… I don’t really know why I want to know,” he admitted, his gaze again on the office next door, on the chair she normally occupied. “I just need to know.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll buy you a new scrunchie or some shit,” he offered.

Trent’s laugh eased some of Roy’s tension. “Well if there’s a new scrunchie involved…” He paused. “But sure, Roy. I could do some sniffing around. Just don’t make me an accessory to murder, alright?”

“Promise,” Roy assured him. “Thanks, Trent.”

~

The parking lot had never been so filled with people before a Whippets game. I’d love to think it was because of our multitude of wins, or the charisma and skill of our players, or just because women’s soccer was growing in popularity. But once I saw the cameras, I knew better.

Sure enough, as Lucas and I walked towards the doors to the stadium, those people started shouting my name, along with questions about whether I’d slept with Roy Kent, if there was any tension at the Dog Track because of all this, how Roy was in bed. My personal favorite was, Have you guys done it here at Nelson Road?

Lucas placed a hand on my back and urged me inside, an uncharacteristic scowl on his face.

“Fucking scum,” he muttered as we made our way down the hall. “Let’s see them ask Kent those kinds of questions at the Greyhounds’ game tomorrow.”

I leaned my head on his shoulder as we made our way to our office. “Ignore them, Luke. Let’s just focus on getting the win.”

Even with the scandal, the stands were still packed. Or maybe it was because of the scandal; while standing in the tunnel, I swore I could “slag” being shouted over and over again from one section of the stadium.

“Fuck,” I whispered, gripping Lucas’s hand tightly.

He shook his head at me. “This is ridiculous,” he spat, tugging out his phone with his free hand. “I’ll text Rebecca, they need to be fucking thrown out.”

Doing my best to focus on the task at hand, I released Lucas and stepped out onto the green, keeping my eyes on the Whippets. When I heard particularly loud chanting begin, I blocked it out, straining to pick out a familiar voice. Keeley’s. Rebecca’s. Higgins’s. Hell, even Roy Kent’s growl would have been welcomed. But this certain chanting was so loud, it was almost enough to make me turn around and spend the game in the changing room- something I’d never dream of doing.

Maybe the papers were right. Maybe my career was over.

Dammit. I couldn’t cry on the field. I’d seen A League of Their Own; there’s no crying in baseball, and not in soccer either. The only tears I shed in uniform were tears of joy when I won. But the shouts, the knowledge that apparently everyone in Richmond, everyone in England, thought I was a slut for one admittedly lovely night with Roy freaking Kent, was enough to have me breaking my no crying in soccer rule.

“Bucky,” Lucas said, apparently not for the first time. “Bucky.” He was turned around, facing the seats behind the dugout.

I blinked rapidly and looked at my assistant coach, who was- wait, was he smiling?

Lucas was shaking his head, an amused chuckle escaping his wide mouth. He grabbed me by the shoulders and turned me around, pointing about halfway up the stands. The sight had me almost breaking my no crying rule, but for a completely different reason.

About two dozen men were on their feet, shouting “Let’s go Whippets!” and clapping rhythmically. I recognized the giant grins of Jamie Tartt, Dani Rojas, Isaac McAdoo, Colin Hughes- all the Greyhounds, each one clad with a white Whippets jersey. When Jamie saw me watching them, he jumped up and down and started smacking the guys next to him. Quickly, they all turned around, showing off the back of their kits: each one was adorned with the number six- my old number when I represented the United States- and five simple letters: B-U-C-K-Y.

“What the hell are they doing?” I gasped, shaking my head.

“I think,” Lucas hummed, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and giving me a squeeze, “that they are letting you know they’ve got you.” He pulled me close. “We’ve all got you.”

~

Roy couldn’t help the way his heart fluttered as he looked at his phone while walking through the parking lot. Fuck, how he wished he’d been there on Saturday. When Isaac and Jamie came to him, expressing how they wanted some way to show the Whippets their support, Roy’d suggested they attend that weekend’s match. It was Isaac who came up with the idea to wear the team kits, and Jamie had thought of adding her name to the back. The guys had invited him to join them, of course, but he’d declined; he knew his presence would only add to the media circus the match would be.

The boys had provided Keeley with plenty of material for both teams’ social media. Sam had posted a video of a gorgeous Whippet goal with the caption “One of the best matches I’ve seen in a while! #RichmondWhippets”. There was Jamie’s selfie with a few players (including a blushing Kira Malone), simply saying “These girls got game!”. Particularly amusing was Colin’s picture with a Whippet from Wales, accompanied by a paragraph on Welsh independence and another paragraph on women’s sports.

But Roy’s favorite post had to be from Dani Rojas, a photo of him with the Whippets’ manager, with the simple caption “Ella es dorada 🥇”. She looked happy. Proud. Brave. Not to mention stunning in her blazer and red lipstick.

But he couldn’t focus on that. It was a new week of training, and he had a text from Rebecca summoning him to her office.

He winced on the stairs, his knee aching, and made a mental note to go easy on it all day. Could stress cause his injury to flare up? He’d have to look that up. He finally arrived at Rebecca’s office, strolling right in when he saw the open door.

Rebecca and Keeley sat on the couch, speaking in hushed tones. They perked up when they saw him, almost as if they hadn’t expected him to show up.

“Good morning, Roy,” Keeley chirped, clearly trying to keep her voice cheery. “Great game yesterday. You boys looked great.”

He grunted in response before turning to Rebecca. “You needed to talk to me?”

Rebecca sat up, straightening her blouse. “Just… checking in.” She offered that tense smile of hers, the one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “How are you doing?”

Roy shrugged. “Fine. Whatever. I mean, I’m not the one getting all the shit press, am I?” He thought of the headlines and tweets he’d been seeing, double entendres and dirty rhymes and just straight up insults. Somehow, even worse, were the posts from idiots praising Roy for the whole thing, as if two adults having sex was some sort of accomplishment.

“Sure,” Rebecca said slowly. “But still. I know things aren’t exactly great for you right now.”

Right. It wasn’t a secret around Nelson Road that one of the managers was in the early stages of a relationship- and that manager definitely wasn’t Roy Kent. She wasn’t exactly flaunting things, but George often picked her up at work. He called her sometimes during the day, just to check in. Worst of all, the prick even brought her lunch to her office a couple of times, offering Roy a smug grin as he passed through the Greyhounds’ office.

Keeley knew Roy well enough to practically read his mind. “I’m sorry, Roy,” she sighed. “Just give it time. Things’ll get better, you’ll see.”

Roy shoved his hands in his pockets, feeling sick of this pity party his friends had decided to throw him. “If there’s nothing else, can I head to my office? So I can do my job?”

Amazingly enough, Rebecca smiled, a real smile. “Yes. There’s actually something in your office. A little surprise.” She glanced at Keeley, who suddenly broke into a matching grin. “Something that’s going to either cheer you up or positively piss you off.”

Frowning at the sudden attitude change, Roy nodded to the two women before walking out. Fucking weirdos.

He stalked down the stairs, down the hall, wondering what the hell Rebecca had meant about a surprise. Shit, had Keeley attempted to redecorate the offices again? Because he was still finding glitter from last time. He swore, if she replaced his chair with some fluffy monstrosity-

Roy froze when he opened the door and was greeted by a mustachioed smile.

“Howdy, Coach.”

~

“Right, so if we start Frankie and Brogan next week-”

Lucas and I froze in the doorway. There was an unfamiliar man in my office, staring at my Brandi Chastain poster. With everything going on, Rebecca was wary of letting reporters she didn’t trust wander around unsupervised; there was no way she’d let some stranger meander into my office.

“Excuse me,” I started, taking a step into my office. “Can I help-”

The man turned around, offering a broad grin, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “Hi there.”

Without ever meeting him, I realized exactly who I was talking to. “Oh gosh, you’re Coach Lasso.”

“Guilty!” he chuckled, leaning forward to shake my hand, then Lucas’s. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be Snoop Doggie-Dogging in your office, just admirin’ your magazine here.” He nodded towards Brandi. “Great little piece of history you got up there.”

I nodded, still a bit dazed at the realization that I was finally face to face with the Ted Lasso. “Yeah, yeah, she’s one of my heroes.” I cleared my throat. “Oh, I’m-”

Ted shook his head. “Oh, I know exactly who y’all are,” he assured me. “I mean, when Becca- uh Rebecca- told me she was hirin’ y’all, I’m embarrassed to admit I only sort of knew your name from when you were in the World Cup. But my son Henry, well when he watches American soccer, he prefers to watch the NWSL. So, he gave me a proper education on all things Coach Buck.” Somehow, his smile widened, filling his face even more than his mustache did. “Don’t suppose I can get an autograph for him while I’m here? Kid’s pretty jealous I get to meet ya.”

Don’t suppose I can get an autograph for him while I’m here?

He had no idea how badly I needed those words.

“Oh, yeah, definitely.” I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. “No worries, I can do that.”

In my peripheral vision, I could see Roy enter the Greyhounds’ office. Our eyes locked for a fraction of a moment, the way they seemed to be doing a lot these days, before we both quickly broke eye contact- the way we seemed to be doing a lot these days.

I cleared my throat and smiled at Ted. “Listen, we’ve got to get to training. And I know you probably want to spend time with Beard and Rebecca and…” My eyes shot to Roy again, trailing over his bearded face as he focused on something on his desk. “….everyone.” I made myself look at Ted, whose expression was amused. “But, uh, think I could buy you a drink while you’re in town? American manager to American manager?”

Ted shrugged. “Shoot, those guys’ve all seen me a million times. Why don’t we grab that drink tomorrow night? Say, there’s this one place I love, the Crown and Anchor. You know it?”

“Uh, yeah, been there once or twice.” I shook Ted’s hand. “It’s a date, Coach Lasso.”

His brown eyes sparkled teasingly. “A date? Don’t forget my corsage then!”

~

Roy’s stomach twisted as he walked from the park to his car after his workout with Jamie. It was unfair, so fucking unfair. What had she done wrong that he hadn’t? They’d both danced. They’d both gone into his house. They’d both had whiskey and commiserated over their finished playing careers. They’d both had an incredible night together. And yet, she was the only one being punished for it.

With a heaving growl, he reached up and grabbed at the corners of the poster. He’d apologize to Rebecca later; he just couldn’t bear to see those vulgar words, not when they were aimed at her. He pulled down as hard as he could, harder than was really necessary, relishing the harsh ripping sounds. As he crumpled up the poster into a ball, he heard another sound: click, click, click.

He whipped around; sure enough, a camera was aimed at him, held by some young guy in a backwards baseball cap. The kid blinked at Roy, as if he didn’t expect the gaffer to look at him. When Roy took a few steps in his direction, the photographer took the same number of steps backwards.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Roy spat as he picked up his pace, closing the distance between them. Without thinking, he threw the balled-up poster at the photographer, not hard enough to cause any injury, but hard enough that it bounced off and rolled a respectable distance away.

“M-my job-”

Roy’s laugh was sharp. “Your job?” He pointed at the spot where the poster had been. “You pricks are making her job- my job- harder to do, you fucking know that?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “We’re just trying to coach fucking football, but we’ve got you twats acting like we’re Brangelina or some shit.” He shook his head, picking up the trash he’d thrown. “This fucking shit written on the poster? That’s your fault. Every. Single. One. Of. You.” He roughly brushed past the photographer and shoved the ball into a trash bin. “You can all go fuck yourselves.”

By the time he arrived at work, Roy was mostly calmer. For Roy, at least. He was unsurprised to see Ted was already at Nelson Road; he was amused to realize his old coworker was coming from Rebecca’s office.

“Morning, Ted,” Roy rumbled, quirking a thick eyebrow at the American.

Ted’s face reddened at the sight of Roy. “Good morning, Roy.” He fell into step beside his former player. “Mind if I join you?” Roy’s grunt was good enough for him. Ted pointed at a photo of the Whippets squad as they passed it. “Amazing, this whole women’s team thing. Becca’s really outdone herself. Keeley too,” he quickly added. His smile turned teasing. “How’re the fellas doing with it? Bein’ respectful, I hope?”

Roy nodded. “They’re fucking fine,” he assured Ted. “There’s some flirting sometimes, and Jamie’s got this weird will-they-won't-they thing going on with their captain. But everyone gets on just fine.”

“What about you?” Ted waggled his eyebrows at Roy as they entered the office. “Any cutie patootie Alex Morgan-type catch your eye?”

“No,” Roy answered, a bit too quickly as his gaze travelled to the empty Whippets office, where he’d watched Ted talk to their manager the day before.

Of course, Ted’s gaze followed his. “Ah.” His eyes lit up. “That coach of theirs sure is somethin’, ain’t she? Gold medal, World Cup, hell of an NWSL coach. And pretty darn easy on the eye, huh?” His face softened when he caught sight of Roy squirming. “And I haven’t heard all the scuttlebutt, but my understanding is something happened between her and a certain Greyhound?”

“Can we not fucking talk about this?” Roy mumbled, eyes darting to the door when he heard footsteps coming from the hallway.

“Later then,” Ted promised Roy as Beard and Nate came into view, lighting up at the sight of Ted. “We can talk about this later.”

Fucking hell. Roy hated knowing that Ted would keep his fucking word.

After training ended for the day, he rushed out of Nelson Road, hoping to avoid that talk Ted promised him. As he stepped into the parking lot, he saw a familiar ponytail, just before its wearer put up her hood to shield herself from a paparazzo.

“Come on, Bucky,” the photographer tutted as his camera clicked. “Just one smile, come on.”

Fists clenched, jaw set, Roy took a step towards them. “Oi. Fuck d’you think you’re doing?” It was aggravating how familiar this felt today; it was even worse to see it aimed at her.

The photographer aimed his camera at Roy. “Say cheese, Kent,” he hummed.

With a scowl, he stormed forward and, not for the first time in his life, snatched the offending camera. He ripped out the SD card. He let the camera drop to the floor with a crash before he held the card up to the paparazzo’s face and snapped it in half.

“Leave. Her. Alone,” he growled, shoving the SD card pieces into his jacket pocket. “She is a fucking Olympic gold medalist, you twat. Would you treat fucking Jason Kenny or Michael Phelps that way? I don’t fucking think so.” He pulled out his wallet and took out a few bills, throwing them on the floor with the broken camera. “Stop hounding her. Get a fucking life.”

Roy glowered as he watched the photographer scamper off without either the broken camera or the cash, back to whatever pit of hell he’d slinked out of. Once the scum was out of sight, Roy turned around to see a pair of wide eyes already staring at him. He grimaced at her, his tense shoulders softening.

“Shit, sorry,” he mumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I know you don’t need me to defend you. You can handle yourself. I know that.” When she didn’t say anything, he rambled on. “And I bet having me come to your rescue isn’t exactly the most helpful story to have in the press. But fuck.” He shrugged, kicking a stray rock. “Sick of the way they treat you,” he sighed. “Like you did some horrible thing. And then they either leave me alone or, worse, act like I won some prize. It’s fucking nuts.” He shook his head. “You don’t deserve- It’s all so- I’m just fucking-”

Roy nearly jumped out of his skin when she reached forward and touched his hand, gently taking it in hers and giving it a small squeeze.

“Thank you.”

His mouth went dry as he gulped, immediately missing the warmth of her hand as she pulled back. “You’re welcome,” he managed.

She glanced at her watch. “I gotta go,” she murmured. “Got a date.” There was a hint of a teasing lilt to her voice, one that was almost friendly enough to stop Roy’s heart from sinking at the word date.

“With your boyfriend?” It took all his strength not to spit out the word.

Her eyes somehow grew wider. “Oh, no, he’s not my boyfriend.” Fuck, she said that quickly. “And I was joking about the date thing. I’m actually taking Coach Lasso out for a beer.” She shrugged, a ghost of playfulness in her eye. “Find out what all the fuss is about. See what’s so great about him.”

Roy couldn’t help the way the corner of his mouth ticked upwards. “Let me know if you find out,” he joked, his heart fluttering at their first real conversation since the photos came out. “I’m still trying to understand it.”

Before she could say something- something clever, probably- the doors opened, and Ted emerged, raising an eyebrow when he saw the two managers standing so close to one another.

“You joining us for a pint, Roy?” Ted asked, nodding eagerly. “It’d be great if you did! Three’s Company, after all. We could use a Janet.” He turned to Bucky. “Unless you want to be Janet. Then we’d need a Chrissy.”

“Let me know if you figure out what the hell he just said,” Roy mumbled, giving her a gentle shove with his shoulder, not caring if Ted could hear him. “Good luck.”

“Bye, Roy.” She turned to Ted. “Let’s go get that pint.”

Roy watched as the two Americans walked off, immediately diving into an intense conversation about some 1970s sitcom. Despite the shit day he’d had, he couldn’t help but feel good when he climbed into his car. As he gripped the steering wheel, he stared at his hand, the one she’d touched. He couldn’t help the involuntary flex he gave, the words he’s not my boyfriend floating around in his head. Sure, he was still hurting, he was still in absolute agony. But for the first time in a while, probably since he first saw her with that prick journalist, Roy Kent also felt hope.

~

Taglist: @optimisticsandwichgladiator@reading-blogs@callmecasey81@ladygrey03@puckyou-forpuckssake@royalestrellas@shineforever19 @rae4725 @burnafter-reading @her-fandom-sanctum @infinetlyforgotten@giggling-sewer-ginger@whataloadofmalarkey@agentstarkid@kingleahhh@tortilla-maria1@geekgirl1996 @amatswimming @meg-ro@spicyraccoonlordking@spaghetti-dad187@needlesthreadandbuttons@elissaaa @imsoluckyeverythingworksoutforme @reverieisaway@djskakakaksjsj-blog@thatonedogwithablog@allthetroubleiveseen@sunderland-6 @netflix-addict @paranormal-is-my-life@jill2629-blog@itsbuzzfeedbitch@pretzelactivist@amieinghigh@kashee-h@beingalive1@mythicalbinicorn@needyomega@kno-way-home@janalustare@sssatorus@its-a-rich-mans-world@confessionsofatotaldramaslut@hesitant-alien33@katie-sheep-111 @bonesbonesetc @seacactusplant@thebookwormlife @dreamscape22 @rae4725 @timelordhunterandmysterysolver@littleesilvia @anonurs @itswhateveripromise @chewymoustachio @gcidrvsh @katdahlali

[loversj0y]

hi hi hi for the event: gold rush!!!!!

also congrats!!! 200 is a fucking insane amount and im so proud of you!! love ur content man!!!!!! :3

gold rush

event masterlist

pairing: wilbur soot x gn! reader

tw: they go to a bar, slight angst? just in the sense of unrequited pining (or perhaps... requited?) some self deprication

notes: fun fact! this song will be utilized again on my blog because it is the main song inspiration for part four of my tis the damn season au. bc of that, i had to come at this with a bit of a different angle creatively which was pretty fun ngl

word count: 1.2k

taglist: @l0veb0mb1ng / @core-queen / @zooone / @lillylvjy / @ghostsacrosslndnfields / @melunnek

You had a problem. You hated Wilbur Soot. 

You knew him well, you two have been friends for a while after meeting at a mutual friend’s party. At first glance, you knew you hated him. With every fibre of your being you hated him. 

You hated him for one specific reason. You wanted him more than anything. He was gorgeous, tall and always looking like the sun chose only him to shine on. He had these soft brown locks of hair that always seemed to curl just the right way, even when he wasn’t trying. He’d come in with a beanie with the curls just peeking out, but once he’d pull the beanie off, they’d immediately settle in a beautiful pattern, waves of brown deserving of attention. 

And his eyes. You couldn’t fathom looking into him in fear that you’d be completely swept into them, lost in his gaze forever. His eyes were like pools of pure bronze, and you could feel yourself melting into them. Every time you looked into them it was like you could imagine an entire life and future with him by your side, living together and sneaking around in love.

But you also had to cope with the idea that it wasn’t real.

The worst part about it was when you knew you’d be seeing him. Your friend groups had a major overlap, so any gathering you knew you would be seeing him. Like tonight. You made yourself look a bit nicer, and you had to tell yourself it wasn’t because you’d be seeing Wilbur – even if you knew it was a lie. The bar would be dark, so there was almost no point to making sure you looked so nice. You felt the need to do it anyways. 

When you showed up, most of your friends were already there. Wilbur was too. He wore this brown button up, with the sleeves pulled up, and fuck he must know what he’s doing to you. He had to know. His arms were muscular from playing guitar, and they were an impressive sight. You had to force your eyes to move on as you approached. 

Everyone greeted you as you sat, smiling around at everyone as you lost yourself in the drone of the music and conversation. You refrained from looking over at Wilbur, too worried you’d lose yourself in your own staring. It was tough, though. He was like the sun in an otherwise dark bar, and he always seemed to catch your attention. You had to keep reminding yourself to look away, which made you pay less attention to the conversation your friends were having.

That ended up being a mistake, within minutes you realized that the majority of your friends were leaving, except for, of course, Wilbur. It was awkward, at least to you. He seemed perfectly content to sit there and look out at the people around him, just quietly observing. 

The observation fell final when it reached you, somewhat zoned out at you stared at him and pondered a future that could never be.

“You alright?” Wilbur asked, tilting his head slightly.

“Hm? Oh, yeah, sorry,” you flushed slightly, looking away.

He chuckled, “it’s alright. How’ve you been? I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“I’ve been good,” you spoke plainly, “You? How’s the band?”

“Good!” He perked up at the mention of the band, “We’ve been working on music and stuff, and it’s been going really well. If it weren’t so loud, I’d show you some, I have a bunch of voice memos on my phone.” He spoke so enthusiastically, and it made your heart hurt slightly. 

“Another time then,” you smiled softly, trying to be as polite despite the mixture of pining and anxiety in your chest. 

He nodded, “yeah, another time.” He went quiet, but it wasn’t for long. A girl approached from the bar, coming over and chatting him up. That was a big thing. Wilbur wasn’t just attractive to you, he was just attractive. Everyone wanted him. And although he was polite and always turned them down, for whatever reason, it still was a sight to see. He could have anyone he wanted, and the chances you could handle that thought, especially in a relationship, were not high. But it wouldn’t stop your fantasizing. 

Of his eyes, staring at you full of love instead of polite friendliness. Of running your hands through his soft hair and watching it fall back into place. Of making a place in his life, a t-shirt left behind in his room after you go home in the evening. Of walking in his room barefoot to join him in bed at night. Of going to dinner parties and having loving arguments. Of moving to a coastal town together to get away from the noise of city life.

But the fantasies would always fade. And part of you hated them. Because of the blush they left on your face and the way they would always keep you from being able to see him as just a friend. Because moments like this, a girl slowly running her hand down his arm, reminded you of just how unreal your fantasizing is, and how it could never be.

The girl left after what was clearly striking out, and Wilbur turned back towards the table, a faint blush left on his cheeks. It was such a beautiful sight, but you had to keep yourself from getting lost in the fantasies once more, lest you embarrass yourself for all of time to come. 

“Sorry,” Wilbur hummed out, rubbing the back of his neck.

“It’s alright, happens often?”

He shrugged, “Sometimes.”

“You never say yes.” You noted simply.

He nodded, “Yeah. Just… nothing against them, but I have my eyes sort of set on someone, so it’s not really within my best interests to entertain one night stands at best.”

You chuckled, but you felt your heart sinking slightly, “I guess that makes sense.”

He nodded again, looking away almost shyly. 

The rest of the night was a lot smoother after your friends returned, making the conversation flow easily. By the end of the night, you were exhausted emotionally and socially. You were one of the first to leave, standing outside and waiting for your taxi. The door opened behind you, but you didn’t turn to see who it was. 

Wilbur came and stood next to you, fiddling with his hands, “So, uhm,” he started, “another time?”

You looked over at him, a bit confused, “What?”

“You said another time, inside. I was wondering… when you’d like that to be.”

You faltered a bit, somewhat unsure of what to say, “Uh, I’m free whenever, I guess.”

He smiled softly, “Well, I have a band rehearsal on Tuesday. Would you… want to come?”

You thought for a moment. You should turn it down, knowing how hard it would be on you. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to do so. “Yeah. Sure. Text me the address?”

He nodded softly, face lit up, “Yeah! I will, absolutely. I’ll- uh- I’ll see you then.”

You smiled softly and nodded, “See you then.”

Your cab pulled up, and you watched as Wilbur headed back in. You got in the cab, a gentle smile on your face as you couldn’t help but have a flicker of hope in your chest for the future.

[prodixal]

"I should think it a privilege nonetheless. I am very good at it." he knew the likelihood of her sharing his bed was low. And a strange part of him found comfort in that. There was a fear which lingered with such a prospect, that he might find intimacy more...binding. She was to be his wife, and he had every intention of making their union last, to make more heirs, bring honour to his family name -- but to love her? Now that was something he was not yet prepared for. Love was a weakness, and he had far too many weaknesses walking outside his own body to so swiftly allow for another one. With his blood, he had no choice on the matter -- but with her, if he were to love her, it would be different. It would be all-consuming. It would devour him whole.

A jealous man by nature, Varyn wished nothing more than to dig into her like a lion dug into its prey, and shatter the very image she held of the man. But he had been so cruel, and had now become tired and the wine had mellowed out his heart to such an extent he could not bring himself to roar. "Lord Karstark is a good man. Much better man than I." how untied his tongue had become, how earnest his words. "You need not feel guilt for indulging his affection. And should you wish to continue to do so, if it should make you happy...I will not stand in your way. -- Though if you do choose to do so -- I do not wish to know of it." it only seemed fair, to allow her liberties which he had allowed for himself. And while that may have made him a man of no honour, no backbone -- he knew, deep within, he could never make her happy on his own.

"You are right." he will speak plainly, softly even. "There is power in family." except he could not yet grow to see her such way. She was not of his blood, she was not of his heart. "I simply need time."

Change. What a coincidence that such a word should rhyme with 'cage'. Her words strike a nerve too sore for him to remain composed and he will sigh heavy with a scoff, palms brushing over his face as he ponders a response for a mere moment. Varyn was an impulsive person, he was easily rattled, easily angered, and he did not like change.

"In the span of a week I have changed plenty, Ashara. I have sacrificed plenty. -- And I vow to protect you, to protect Olyver. I vow to give you riches, and a name and a home! These too are choices, and I have chosen to do so. To spare you the embarrassment, to spare our child our own sins. -- I could have easily chosen otherwise, and gods know it would have been easier to do, for you are driving me mad!" his cup is thrown against the floor, scattering across the room as his emotions surge to the surface. "What more do you want of me? To be loyal? To be poised? To abandon everything in this world which brings me a modicum of fucking pleasure? I do not find happiness in monotony, I do not find joy in confinement. And marriage is confinement. Now tell me....why on earth would I choose such a thing? To be bored, to be miserable in this one life?"

He takes a breath to compose himself, to simmer down. And his following words are even, almost quiet. "If you wanted a better man, you should have chosen a better man. Had a child with a better man. Alas you have chosen me, now you must learn to accept me. As I am. If not for my benefit, then your own."

Taken aback by the sudden exchange of intimacy, and the quiet acceptance in her voice, he will let the soft kiss against his skin pass him like a tender tide. For a moment he just stands there, looking at her, soul crushing beneath her touch and shattering beneath her words. "Good night -- lady Lannister."

"the privilege of sharing your bed is no privilege at all when it is afforded to half of westeros." wine-induced fatigue had mellowed her bite, her words not so much scathing as they voiced bitter truths. his blunt honestly surprised her, and to find he showed her some understanding even more so. ashara recognised it as an olive branch, and extended one in return. "i do not deny i have grown accustomed to alecor's company. nor do i claim to be free of guilt to have enjoyed the benefits of his affections, as you so aptly put. i have suffered in your absence, and he showed me a kindness." she would leave it at that. "but i sit here now, with you." a decision made: alecor was her past, and varyn her future.

accepting his comfort was a dangerous venture, one ashara was not willing to embark on. it was one thing to speak with him plainly, to share unadorned truths, but trust was earned, not given. he had done nothing to earn it. "i do not ask that you whisk me away to sit under starlit skies again. it would be negligent to chase dreams, you are right. we cannot make a life of a mirage."

what a beautiful, fleeting dream it had been. life was harder now, and to weather the storms to come, they would need to toughen their hides. "but we can lay roots where they may grow strong yet. our son has shown us that from a tiny seed, a tree can grow. there is power in that. there is power in family."

she wanted to believe that her words would strike a chord with him, that he may come to recognise the hope and promise they carried. but the roll of his eyes was noted, and ashara answered it with an irritable huff of her own. "not the man i desire you to be, but the man our family needs. you can be that man, if you choose to be. if you choose to change. but you have already decided our family is not worth changing for."

as varyn approached, ashara stood up to level with him, making no move to shrink away. "my happiness? do you still not understand what it is i ask of you?" she shook her head. "family demands sacrifice. i rest my life and our son's life upon your hands. i will give my name and my home. what i would ask of you is that you take no more from me, and instead give... but i know my request to be futile." another sigh followed, longer, wearier, something in the air yielding as she did. "summon me when we are to stand before the septon. once our union is made public, i will wear your name proudly and devote myself to you for the world to see."

she clasped his hand in hers and guided it to her cheek. they stood for another moment, shrouded in quiet intimacy, her lips pressing a kiss to his skin. a great many things had filled her expressive eyes in his presence before: passion, lust, anger, jealousy, tenderness. now, all they reflected was a dejected sadness that went soul-deep. "as for the rest... i will learn to avert my eyes, and to banish you from my thoughts, eventually."

[veryrealimagination]

Henry kept shivering as he walked around with George. Their flashlights weren’t as strong as they should have been, and he could only see a small amount ahead of him as they continued to search through the blacked out alleyways. “This is making me nervous,” he muttered, hearing something clamor and seeing the back end of a tail scurry off.

“It’s a dark night. There’s a storm predicted after three am,” George listed, “And we’re hunting for some of our worst criminals reincarnated and ready to come after us.” He switched his light to the chest of his partner. “You should be nervous.”

“You know, that doesn’t help.” He swung back around and started waving his arm around. “Every single person that hates our guts is wandering around Toronto in the middle of a Blackout, and we’re out here with flashlights.”

“It’s not every single one.”

“No, just Sally Pendrick, Eva Pierce, James Gillies, Ralph Fellows, a good chunk of the Black Hand-”

“All right, Higgins!” George yelled. “I get it.” The two kept walking and checking around. They let a half hour go before heading back to where they parked. Everything had been seen through, and there were no signs of activity. “I thought things were supposed to be fixed by now.” His phone was under 50%, and he wasn’t sure if his battery packs were charged and able to keep him going until sunrise.

“Yeah, thought so too,” came the faint reply.

As his voice wasn’t as strong as it could have been, he swung to make sure that nothing happened to the other man. His face was pale, and he seemed to be breathing a bit heavier than a mild walk would entail. “Henry?” he asked, voice soft.

His reaction time was off. It took thirty seconds to realize that George had stopped and was waiting for him to comment something about him being okay. “I think I was better off not remembering anything,” he whispered instead of some sort of reassurance. “Now that I remember the past, everything is wrong. Ruth and Jordan. The Constabulary. Giles and not Brackenreid. Watts and Jackson! A-and, knowing that Gillies is out there, and he’s better at what he’s doing now. That Ralph Fellows still hasn’t gotten in through his head that he has to beat Murdoch and fails, which almost gets any one of us killed. That Eva Pierce is plainly just targeting all of us, even when flirting with Murdoch. She’s going to try shooting Ogden again and this time, she might get it fatal-”

George had to stop him. Watching him was uncomfortable, and the more he saw, the more he realized that the man was panicking. It had been interesting, the first few weeks, finding out that they had all come back together, in the same Station, no less. The changes in Doctor Ogden and Murdoch were fascinating. The woman still became a doctor but didn’t practice as she had last time. No, she had a son in college (who was actually Detective Watts!), and residency had to be restarted thanks to a car crash. So, she went fuck it until she wanted to go back. She wrote books, encouraged him to start again after finding a secondhand copy of a couple of his. Murdoch wasn’t as, well, he didn’t want to use the words harsh, or straight, but he had loosen up. He suffered the loss of Liza twice but had the support of foster parents and grief counselors this time around.

It was after the first (re)encounter with James Gillies that he could see how it could be bad. The criminal remembered them. He had been committing murders for a year plus before they had one land on their beat jurisdiction because he was prepared to start playing. And then burying alive Watts, who wasn’t Watts yet and he was just the teenaged son of Doctor Ogden-

Henry had been thinking about this, pondering, wondering, mulling, dragging this through his head enough to panic over it.

During his own little trip into the rambling, his partner had started breathing heavily, faster than what was safe. Oh, shit, he’s hyperventilating and panicking. What was Julia telling Llewellyn when the lights went out? “Higgins, Higgins, look at me,” he said, making sure the other man was aware of him and following along, “Follow my breathing.” It took a few times to figure out the pattern, but once he did, George repeated it for Henry to copy. George grabbed a hand to squeeze and let him know to switch between breathing in, holding, and letting go.

There were several minutes of quiet before Henry was breathing safely and calmer than before. “Sorry,” he muttered, quite embarrassed.

“Henry,” George said, “You’ve got nothing to be sorry about.” He squeezed his hand one more time and let it go. “Let’s get back to the car, let Murdoch know we haven’t seen anything, and hit the next location before the storm hits.”

They were almost back to parking when something clanged in the distance. “What the hell was that?” Henry asked, mostly to the air because George couldn’t see it either. Another clang, and they both wished there was still an armory and the ability to take out revolvers.

“Toronto Police Department, lay down any weapons and step into a lighted area,” George ordered.

“Patrolling the streets doesn’t seem as an efficient use of a Detective’s time,” someone called out. Freezing, he stared as a woman he hoped wouldn’t even have been born again showed up into the light. “Why Georgie,” Amelia cooed, stepping near enough for him to see, “You don’t look so well.”

A gagging sound had him swing around. Dorothy had a chain, which was now wrapped around Henry’s neck as she tried choking him. Immediately, he started attacking the woman, making her drop Henry. He gasped for air before launching himself at the first woman when she pulled out a knife and headed towards George. Once she was down, he had handcuffs on her to keep her from attacking again.

“No!” Dorothy screamed, pulling out a gun and pointing it at them. “Uncuff her.”

“She planned on attacking an officer,” Henry yelled, “Both of you are getting arrested.”

“Then, I’m sorry. I don’t have a choice.” She pointed the gun and shot at George. The man yelped as it entered his left side.

“George!”

“Uncuff my sister, and you can call for an ambulance,” she said, "Without interference."

It took a split second, but he pulled out the keys and quickly undid them before pulling out his phone and dialing. He watched the two leave while he was connected. "Detective Higgins, officer down," he relayed, kneeling down and using his jacket to apply pressure, "I need an ambulance sent to my location. Gunshot, left side of the chest. Unsure if it hit the ribs or went through." He looked down at the man, who was already unconscious with a great deal of blood on the ground. "Don't do this to me, George. Please."

Prompts:

Chains

flashlights

hyperventilating

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t have a choice.’

[nastybuckybarnes]

Of Kings and Beasts  -  Eight

Pairing: King!Bucky X Princess!Reader X King!Steve

Summary: Born a bastard of the King of Orlen, you’re thrust to the West to marry the Kings. However, the greeting you get is anything but warm, and your life with the King is far from enjoyable. He knows it isn’t your fault his husband is gone, but that fact alone won’t prevent him from taking it out on you.

Warnings: Angst, Injuries, Fluff, 

Word Count: 3.6K

A/n: I’m alive! I know, it’s been like 4 months. I honestly didn't know how to ‘come back’ so this is it. I’ll be answering asks and messages tonight, but things are going okay. I work 54 hours a week so I’m not writing as much as I’d like to but I’m trying!!! I love you all so much, and I hope you enjoy this!

THIS SERIES CONTAINS SMUT AND DARK THEMES THAT MAY BE TRIGGERING TO SOME AUDIENCES!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!

Series Masterlist

The doctor lies unmoving on a medical cot, stitches across his throat to close the gouge that was meant to end his life.

“Do we have any idea who is behind this? Or why?” Steve asks quietly, eyes darting between his most trusted man and his husband.

“I do not know who is behind it, but I think they are aware that we know.” Steve’s brows pull together at his husband’s words, and he waits for him to continue.

James huffs out a deep breath, glancing around the small room as if checking for any listening ears.

“Doctor Banner found an incision on the base of my skull. Someone has performed an operation on me without my knowing. I’m assuming the Doctor found something out, and while on his way to find me he was ambushed.”

Steve’s still stuck on the fact that his husband has been tampered with.

“What do you mean someone performed an operation on you?” James shakes his head. “I’m not sure what they did, but I have reason to believe that it is why I have been so hostile towards... our wife.” He fears saying your name. He doesn’t want anything to trigger the beast.

“How long have you known this?” Steve demands, angry that James would keep something like this from him.

“Since the day she went out into the snow. I was not sure who I could trust. I still know not. But one thing is certain: someone means to kill our wife and destroy our marriage, and it is someone close to us.” Regret instantly fills the blond king and he excuses himself without another word, head swarming with thoughts that include nothing but pain and punishment.

His feet take him down the spiral staircase, his hands wrenching open the cell door and grabbing the prisoner by his collar.

“Who is it that sent you?! Tell me! Now!” The man is confused for a moment before a yellow-toothed grin splits his face.

“You will tell me now!” Steve pulls his fist back and slams it against the man’s face, but the prisoner only laughs manically.

“Who is it that intends on hurting my wife? On ruining my marriage?” The man shakes his head, blood dribbling down his chin.

“The only one who ruins your marriage and hurts your wife is you, your majesty. But from what I hear through the walls, your bloodline ends with you. The great Kings of the West will be nothing more than fairytales. Their whore wife, a forgotten name. And that will be your doing.” Steve’s vision clouds and he unleashes his fury upon the prisoner, beating him to a bloody pulp until his face is hardly visible.

The King stumbles back, chest heaving and fists covered in blood, while the man slumps to the floor, wheezing and gasping.

“Cut off one head... two more shall take its place,” is the last thing the man utters before collapsing in a pool of his own blood.

Steve stands there, furious and dumbfounded. He’s so lost in his thoughts that he doesn’t realize he isn’t alone anymore until a cool hand is on his shoulder, turning him around.

“What happened?” James asks, his eyes on the dead man on the floor and then on his husband’s bloody fists.

“Your assumption is correct. Someone has orchestrated this and we are being toyed with. Where’s (Y/n)?” The mention of your name has James squeezing his eyes shut as the beast bares its fangs.

“I know not. But you haven’t time for that. Thor and Anthony should be here within the hour. You need to make yourself presentable. We will tell them of our problem and see if they can offer any assistance.” Steve doesn’t want to meet with the other Kings. No, he wants to find you and get on his knees and beg for forgiveness, of which you may or may not grant, but he’s willing to beg and plead in front of his entire kingdom if he needs to.

“Come on. Let’s go get you cleaned up.” James ushers the blond out of the dungeon and to his chambers, his mind racing as he tries to piece the mystery together.

~*~

Your eyes trace over the trails etched in the book in your grasp, trying desperately to memorize them.

You’re so engaged in your reading that you don’t notice the man in front of you until you’re walking into him.

“Oh!” You stumble back, the book falling from your grasp as you lose your footing. The man is quick and grabs you around the waist to prevent you from falling.

“I am very sorry, Your Majesty. You must forgive me, for I was not paying attention to where I was walking.” The man has a deep, booming voice, his accent different than the ones you’re used to.

“It’s quite alright. I was hardly paying attention myself.” You look up at him and your eyebrows raise.

He’s an absolute Adonis of a man.

With beautifully kind blue eyes, a warm and inviting smile, and long locks of blond hair that are pulled back into a half-bun.

“It must be an interesting story that you were reading then?” He questions, hand dropping from around your waist as he stoops down to pick up your book.

“You could say that.” You’re nervous. You know not who this man is nor where his allegiance lies.

“This is a book of maps. Have you a journey planned?” He seems just genuinely curious but you’re defensive nonetheless.  

“Might I ask who you are and why you need to know?” He raises his brows then chuckles.

“I suppose we have not been introduced, although I have heard many things about you. I am King Thor, of Asgard. And you are Queen (Y/n). Born of Orlen but wed in Acadia. The Kings eagerly awaited your arrival, I must say. And you are every bit as beautiful as they said.”

You shake your head bashfully.

“May I know where your journey will take you? It will remain a secret between the two of us. You have my word.” You ponder this for a moment, but he looks so kind and so genuine, you can’t stop yourself from telling him.

“Well if you must know, I’m leaving.” He huffs a breath of surprise.

“Leaving? But for what purpose? You are a queen.”

You laugh softly at that, the tugging up of your cheeks making your cuts burn.

“A queen, yet I am treated like a prisoner. You must forgive me for speaking so plainly in your presence, but I fear that I have lost any sense of... propriety in this place. My husbands may have spoken highly of me, but that was before they met me, I suppose. Now... I am nothing more than a thorn in their sides.”

Thor shakes his head, not believing a word coming from your mouth.

“That cannot be.” You sigh heavily and tug the collar of your gown down, showing him the dark bruises around your neck.

“From his Majesty, King James. And King Steven gave me these.” You show him the bruises on your arms next.

He’s absolutely appalled.

“And I assume they are the ones responsible for these?” One of his warm fingers traces across the marks on your cheeks and you nod.

“I do not blame you for wanting to leave. You must feel stifled.” You nod, taking his outstretched arm and allowing him to lead you down the hallway.

“It... has not been an easy transition. I have not even seen my kingdom yet. I know not what it has to offer nor if it is thriving. I have not met my people or even seen my lands. This place is supposed to be home to me, but it is no more than a prison with hot water and soft sheets.”

Thor’s quiet for a long moment and you regret every speaking. Just as you’re about to tug free from his grip and lock yourself back in your chambers, he turns to you.

“We cannot simply allow you to not know what your kingdom has to offer! I am making it my duty to show you the beauties of Acadia.” Your eyebrows raise.

“But surely you’re here on business? You mustn’t have time for something as tedious as that.” He takes your hand and brings it up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against your knuckles. “A chance to get to know the Queen? Show her that her Kingdom is not all bad? That is not tedious. The Kings can wait. They have Anthony. I will take you through the Kingdom and show you all that there is to see.”

~*~

Thor is true to his word and shows you every nook and cranny in the Kingdom. From the poorest parts to the wealthiest.

“This is the village orphanage. I often come to volunteer my time, however business has kept me away for far longer than I’d like to admit.” You pull your cloak tighter around yourself at the biting chill of the wind, a frown on your face as you look at the run-down building.

“Do the kings not know the ruins of their Kingdom? Surely something can be done to fix this building. The children must be freezing.” You’re reminded of your own experience in the cold confines of the north tower in Orlen. The small chamber you were locked in whenever your adoptive mother did not want to see you.

“The Kings often busy themselves with their work. They are conquerors. They have not the time for such trivial tasks. It would be the duty of a queen to fix the Kingdom, here at least. They are my friends, and they are good at taking, however it seems they know little of giving back.” You nod at this, knowing firsthand how much they can take and not give back.

“I wish I had known that the kingdom was in such ruins. I would have made it my priority.” He looks at you for a long moment, wondering what on Earth could cause the Kings to treat you so poorly.

“If you would like, I can help you to arrange some repairs? Perhaps we can make it your project? Have you in charge of it. It could be your first official duty as Queen.” You smile but shake your head sadly, turning away from the orphanage and back towards your horses.

“I doubt the Kings would approve of something like that. I’m sure I will have their wrath to face for having kept you from your business for so long. I fear what they will do to me, if I am quite honest with you. Steven was lovely before but... he has... I know not how to explain it.” Thor comes up behind you and places a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“I will ensure that they do not bring any more harm to you, Petal. You have endured far more than should be expected of you. You have little to gain, and yet you remain here for them.” You shrug, walking with him to your horses.

“My situation were I to leave would not be very different. I have nowhere to go and no one to turn to. I am alone both in the Kingdom and outside of it.” Thor hates the truth behind your words.

“Come, let’s get you back to the Palace before you catch your death.” He helps you up onto the horse then gets on his, mind full of everything you’ve told him and all that he needs to discuss with the Kings.

~*~

He walks you to your chambers, having told Wanda to draw a warm bath for you. As he reaches the wooden door, he pauses and smiles warmly at you.

“I very much enjoyed our time today, Your Majesty. I hope to spend more time with you during my stay. But unfortunately, I must go.”

As he’s turning to leave, a voice calls your name. The way you stiffen has Thor grinding his teeth together in frustration.

“Your Majesty,” you greet, bowing your head to your husband while your hand inches to your door.

“May I speak with you? Please?” You open your mouth to reply but Thor cuts you off.

“Actually, Steven, I believe you and I have matters of our own.” And just like that, The booming blond ushers your husband down the hallway. Steve’s blue eyes stay on you, his head turned to look over his shoulder as much as he can until they round the corner and render you out of sight.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and enter your bedroom, smiling tightly at Wanda as she helps you into your bath.

~*~

“You were with (Y/n) all day?” Thor shrugs, “would it matter if I was? It seems that I am the only friend she has.” Steve grinds his teeth together but huffs a breath out through his nose.

“I understand that I have been unfair, but all I want is to make things better between the two of us.”

Thor shakes his head, thick arms crossed over his broad chest as he looks between the two kings. “That can wait. What is it that you needed to discuss with me so urgently?”

Steve sighs and looks over at James as if trying to figure out where to begin.

“We believe that someone is trying to sabotage our marriage to break us apart and overthrow our rule. And it must be someone close to us. James has been... tampered with. And I was made to question the loyalties of my own wife. My anger and haste for answers have... brought forth a beast I had hoped to keep hidden from her. And I fear I have played my part in the sabotage of my marriage.” Thor thinks about how helpless you sounded, how absolutely broken down you seemed and can’t help but agree with Steve’s words.

“If someone is plotting to overthrow your rule, they must be close. Close enough to know of any decisions being made. It would be wise to deceive them.” James furrows his brows in confusion. “Make it seem as if they are winning. Send away your wife and tell no one the truth.”

Steve’s shocked at the suggestion.

“Send her away? To where? And with whom? We cannot very well abandon her when people mean to kill her!” Thor purses his lips for a moment before smiling.

“She won’t be alone.”

The other two Kings stare at him as if he’s grown a second head.

“You mean to stay with her? And protect her?”

“Your wife is a spitfire, that much I can tell. She may come across as a woman of few words, but she has a raging soul that cannot be so easily tamed. She wishes to leave you, plans to.”

James’ shoulders cave and Steve’s face crumbles.

“She told you this?” The brunet asks, voice hoarse and weak.

“Not in so many words, but the desire is there. She is unhappy. If she would agree, I would take her to Asgard to be a wife of my own, however, her heart is loyal to Acadia.” The two kings each glare at the big blond man, angry at the very thought of someone taking their wife from them.

Thor continues, unbothered by their anger.

“Which is why she should be sent away. I have a cottage at the border of Asgard and Acadia. My men will be around and you can send men of your own. I will stay with her until she is comfortable and then I will take my leave, but for her safety and her sanity, she must leave the Palace.”

The silence in the room hangs heavily over all three men for a long while before Steve nods.

“Very well. If it is truly in her best interests, then fine. But I will not shun her without giving her a proper explanation.” Thor bows his head as Steve rushes past him, heading towards your chambers.

He knocks once then slowly pushes the door open, desperate to see you and grovel at your feet.

You’re seated on your bed, a book in hand and a shocked expression on your face.

“Your Majesty,” you greet softly, bowing your head.

“No, (Y/n) none of that. I was... out of line. I will never be able to apologize enough for everything I have done to you.” You say nothing but your heart hurts at the fact that Thor clearly told him something.

“You have nothing to apologize for, Your Majesty,” you say stiffly, moving your gaze back down to the book in your lap.

He sits on the edge of your bed, his eyes on the scratches decorating your delicate face.

“We have been unkind and unfair to you, my darling. I hope that one day you will forgive us, but until then, there is something we must discuss.” You have no idea where this conversation could be going, and that thought alone scares you.

“You will be leaving tonight.”

Your face must display the confusion and fear you feel at his words because he’s quick to clarify.

“Joining Thor and staying in a cottage where our kingdoms border. There are people here, people close to myself and James that wish to do you harm.” He takes your hand gently between both of his and presses a soft kiss to your fingers.

“It pains me to do it, but I know you need it as well. You’ve been deprived here. No friends and no family. We’ve treated you terribly and not as Queen should be treated." You keep your eyes cast down towards your lap, unable to bear seeing the King so distraught in front of you.

He sniffles and places another kiss to the back of your hand.

“I hope that you will return soon, but if you must take time then I understand. When you do decide you are ready to return, we will both be waiting with open arms.” He pauses for another moment before speaking again, his voice softer than before.

“I had hoped that James would join me but he... he is not well. But he misses you dearly, of that I am certain. The days will darken with your departure.” He presses another kiss to your knuckles then slowly rises to his feet.

“No one is to know the true reason for your departure. You mustn't tell anyone, for I fear you will not be safe if you do. Can you promise me that?” He asks, his eyes full of desperation and sorrow.

“Yes, your majesty.” His heart cracks at the fact that you’re still not addressing him by his name, but he realizes it will take time for the bond to be rebuilt between the two of you.

“Wanda will pack your things then you will be met by Thor and he will take you somewhere safe.” He cups your cheek gently, sniffling and trying to fight tears.

“I am so very sorry that your own home is a place that causes you pain.” With that, he turns on his heel and exits your chambers without so much as another glance, the pain he’s feeling evident in the tightness of his shoulders and the stiffness of his walk.

It’s not five minutes later when Thor is at the door to your chambers, sliding a thick wool cloak over your shoulders and pulling the hood up to cover your face.

“Just a precaution, Your Majesty. And the wind has a bit of a bite to it. But a carriage is waiting.” You nod your understanding and follow him silently out of the palace that has been no more than a prison to you.

Steve and James watch from separate windows as you climb into the carriage, not sparing a single glance back at the palace. But they cannot find it in themselves to blame you. What you have been forced to endure is far worse than anyone should have to. Especially someone as delicate as yourself.

A dark cloud falls over the kingdom as their queen is whisked away, brought to a safe haven that their kings couldn’t provide, by a man who is not even a member of their kingdom.

~*~

The journey to Thor’s cottage is a fairly quiet one, far too many thoughts racing in your mind and feelings in your heart.

“You are unhappy to be leaving the Palace?” Thor asks, confusion evident in his voice. You sigh heavily and shake your head, turning to look at him.

“It is a relief to be able to speak freely, however, I cannot help the guilt that I feel. It is my duty to do what the require of me, regardless of whether or not I enjoy it.” Thor shakes his head, a frown on his handsome face.

“No human should ever have to endure that. Regardless of their duties. You will not be shunned by the kings and even if you were, I’m sure Orlen would accept you back with open arms.”

You chuckle once, the sound dull and lacking humour.

“Orlen could not care any less about me if they tried. I’m not a princess to them. Merely the bastard of a King. One who was convenient to use in a trade agreement. My father would have me beheaded if he knew I was running from the kings.”

Thor is rendered speechless by this new information, his heart heavy for you, the delicate princess who deserves a far better fate than the one gifted to her.

[mzmezzler]

Just Browsing - Minho/Hyunjin x Gn!reader

shortlist: dom!reader, slutty Hyunho, (public) humiliation, degradation, ruined orgasm, public sex, car sex, handjobs, voeyurism, slight threesome, dry humping, friends with benefits

word count: 1.6k

summary: You ignore the stares and grimaces of people that dodge the three of you briskly walk through the light crowd in the food court. They’re well deserved as you have three young adults jogging with handfuls of bags in their hands, linked by the arms all the while the two guys remain half hard...

a/n: I struggled for a good banner, but I hope y'all like the story nonetheless

{Prompts from @/channiesky #1}

Any and all feedback is appreciated :)

-

The other mall patrons noticed it before you.

Initially, you thought you were seeing things as people made double takes to the three of you as you walked throughout the shopping center together.

Being an hour and a half into a mall day with Hyunjin and Minho, you lost sight of how clingy the two had been in the midst of being so engrossed in the shopping.

It wasn’t odd for Hyunjin to be draped over you in any setting, but for Minho to be all over you at the same time, and in public at that.

It was odd to say the least.

But as you stand, rifling through the racks at the fifth store of the afternoon, you feel Hyunjin press himself against you in a pointless effort to peer over your shoulder at clothes he wasn’t interested in. You don’t think much of it until Minho is pressed up against your other side, resting his head on your shoulder while you ignore the two of them.

You can only peer up at the mirror across from racks to see the boys with twin blushes on their cheeks. There is a smug grin plastered on Minho’s face that mirrors Hyunjin’s shy pout. But beside the three of you was the scrutinizing stare of a middle aged woman on the rack in front of yours. The way she surveyed you made a wave of realization flash in your mind, making your face fall. The chipper, pop music that filled the space was suddenly too loud, when Hyunjin squirmed in his spot glued to you with a soft pant.

Shooting the woman a polite smile, you quickly look down to see the slight bulges in the pair's pants while you pretend to shuffle through your bag.

But before you could dwell on the action Minho breaks you from your thoughts, “Do you want to go to another store?” The flippant tone in his voice contradicted the bugle pressing against your side, it was aggravating how he sounded so unaffected despite quietly making a scene with the other.

Where Minho was innocently smiling at you, when you look at him in acknowledgement, Hyunjin burrows his face into your shoulder quietly failing to play off his arousal. But what the boys don’t realize is two can play at that game.

Gripping the shopping bags in your hands you hook Hyunjin’s arm around yours and nudge Minho to follow. With the two in tow, you silently drag them towards the nearest bathroom while ignoring the stares and grimaces of people that dodge the three of you briskly walking through the light crowd in the food court.

They’re well deserved as you have three young adults jogging with handfuls of bags in their hands, linked by the arms all the while confused patrons and employees are left startled by the odd sight.

The bathroom you chose was a surprisingly empty, family sized stall isolated from the communal restrooms. Ushering the pair inside and locking the door behind you, you place your bags down and sit on the toilet to the corner of the room. The sound of the overhead light rings out while the boys shift in their spots while you look towards them expectantly.

“Y/N why are we-” Minho starts.

"What the fuck has gotten into the two of you-" You press. They didn't even look sorry, with Hyunjin panting from his spot in the corner of the stall next to Minho. "-rubbing yourselves on me like two bitches in heat, and in public nonetheless." You finish.

"You know you'll have to be punished, or was that the plan initially?" You ponder.

"The two of you probably got a thrill out of it hm? Grinding on me despite the stares like a pair of mangy mutts." You spit.

The pair stir in their spot on the opposite side of the bathroom in front of you, with Hyunjin seeming especially affected judging by the soft whimper he lets out while Minho tries to remain unaffected despite the sizable bulge in his pants.

“Now jerk each other off” You press.

“But-” Minho tries to ask.

“Why are you questioning me?” You interrupt.

The pair act without any problem now, two scrambling to unbuckle their belts and shove a hand down the other’s trousers is almost comical. With their arms crossed and hands wrapped around each other’s erections, the two stroke each other in tandem as you sit back and watch them unravel. Where Minho is going at a grudgingly slow pace, Hyunjin jerks Minho off quickly as if his pace can dictate Minho’s own.

The sound of precum squelching between the boys’ fists and labored breaths quickly replaced the ambient noise of the outside commotion.

After long you could tell they were close.

Minho leans against the grey wall behind him with his bottom lips between his teeth, jolting into Hyunjin’s erratic strokes while the former is hunched over, leaking onto the concrete floor. The boys looked so fucked out as they reached their releases.

But that wouldn’t do of course.

“Get dressed.” You sigh while moving to stand up and collect the bags.

"W-what" Minho sputters out.

"Put your pants back on, we're leaving." You state plainly.

There is a heavy silence as you look at Minho with your eyebrows raised, “You wanted to be brats so badly and show the whole mall how desperate the two of you are earlier, why not now?”

The boy’s mouth was agape while Hyunjin stood to his side looking between the two of you. The blonde also looked conflicted as you turned your pointed glare to him, resulting in him hiking his pants from around his knees.

Minho looks towards the blonde with a look you can only chalk up to betrayal.

"Minnie we have to" Hyunjin whispers.

Taking a few beats to think over it to himself while Hyunjin finishes dressing himself, Minho slowly starts to do the same. The two of them finish with their neglected erections pressed against the top of their pants to hide the obvious prints. The blushes are high on their cheeks as you walk out with them, completely ignoring the Hyunjin's needy whines and Minho's grunts on either side of you.

The boys can only hang their heads low as rush hour has started to pick up in the evening while the three of you walk to the car. Their embarrassed expressions only made you smile and tug them closer against your side.

“This is what you wanted isn’t it hm?” You state once broken from the crowd.

“A wonderful mall trip where you both got to rub off on me while I bought new things-” You unlock the car doors and put the bags in the passenger seat before either of them could claim the seat. “But now it’s my turn to really have fun.” You grin.

"Sit in the back, both of you”

Walking around towards the driver's seat and getting settled, you look to the rear view and smile at the boy’s holding each other's hands to slightly soothe each other, “Now boys, how about you jack each other off again and who ever can last longer gets a reward when we get home?” The two perk up in their spots, retching the other’s hand out of their hold to fiddle with their pants and push them down their laps.

Continuing where they left off, you could Hyunjin was worse off then Minho as the brunette circled and boy’s tip, pushing his finger onto the head which almost threw Hyunjin off of his own rhythm.

The whiny moans that were forced out of the blonde soon overpowered Minho’s own groans due to Hyunjin’s failure to keep up.

It was obvious Hyunjin would cum into Minho’s unrelenting fist as he’d stopped his own strokes, finally giving into the pleasure.

You just continue to drive despite the show behind you, listening to Hyunjin’s last broken moan as he cums into Minho’s fist.

Looking back in the rearview at the nearest stop, you see Minho looking triumphantly back at you while licking the cum off his fingers as Hyunjin lies back on the seat’s headrest catching his breath.

“I was hoping you would do better Jinnie, Minho certainly doesn’t deserve a reward.” You sigh.

“But there still is time for you to redeem yourself.”

After all, the night is still young.

[neonmcqueen]

Stranger Things

Season 1

Eddie Munson X OC (Eddie will be in and out of the seasons)

Episode 6

6

I felt tapping on my cheeks, “Vivian.” The voice calling me was soft and sweet, “Vivian come on.” I began opening my eye’s the first thing I saw was the darkness of the woods, the next was those icy blue eyes. “Hey sleepyhead.” Her voice soft was almost calming, “Let’s get you up.” She helped pull me up to stand.

Before me dressed in a heavy knitted colour blocked sweater, a black top and jeans was..“Ophelia, you…you’re the one who’s been helping me.” She smiled nodding her head as her blond hair moved with the wind.

A growl could be herd around us; I could feel him just on the other side of the Vale. “We should go.” She pulled me along away from the area. “Vivian, why would you go there willing?”

The question may have seamed heavy but not to me. “I needed to…” she looked over at me as we walked, “I needed him to live.”

“Vivian…” her voice sounded broken I didn’t need to look at her to see her sad face.

“Vivian!” Jonathan’s voice called out I could see him and Nancy making there way over to us.

Nancy did the unthinkable and launched herself into me giving me a hug, “I thought I lost you.” I hugged her, this almost felt like all those years ago when we were friends. She pulled away from me, “Come on.” I looked beside me finding that Ophelia was gone.”

We walked back to our car’s Jonathan took Nancy and I was left alone. “Sorry.” Ophelia’s sweet voice filled the air. I looked over the roof of my car seeing her standing there with a playful look on her face. “Can we talk?”

“Yeah.” We entered the car I tried to keep my mouth shut but I just couldn’t, “How did you find me?” My words heavy in the car.

“When you came to see me about that picture,” she reminded me, it did feel like a life time ago, “I could feel your gift.”

I looked at her fast trying to stay on the road, “Your eye’s they where different.” Remembering the red that sparked off of them. “Could you find Will like you did me?”

The cab of the car was filled with silence it was killing me, “No.” her voice just above a whisper, “Without him having a power I’m lost.” She sounded sad as she informed me. “My gift isn’t like that, I can pull power from the other side. And yours…”

“I see things from the past, future and my least favourite..dream walking.” I informed her plainly, “Its the best way to explain what I’ve be experiencing.”

She pondered over the info I just gave her, “Can you control it?”

Shaking my head thinking back to what Peter informed me, “Nope, they come when they want to.” I yawned keeping both hands on the wheel.

“We can talk more another time.” I looked over at her nodding once more and with that like magic she was gone.

Entering the house as quiet as I could finding Dustin on the couch waiting for me. “Where have you been?” His whisper harsh, coming to stand in-front of me his hands on his hips. “We could have used your help!” He followed me as I walked to my room.

Once the door closed behind him I spoke, “I’ve been with Nancy and Jonathan in the woods.” I tossed myself on my bed looking at the ceiling.

“I’m sorry…the woods!” His scolding voice sounded in the room, “Are you crazy??”

My head looked up glaring at him, “I’m sorry Dustin but Jonathan got a picture of a Demogorgon what was I supposed to do?” I could tell by the look on this face he was frustrated with me, “Did you find the gate?” I asked him placing my head back down.

He shuffled to the bed siting down next to me, “No, El was messing with the compass.” This caused me to sit up next to him.

“What? Why?” Not fulling understanding what he meant.

“Mr. Clarke said that the gate would have so much power…” he began filling me in.

Then it dawned on me, “It could disrupt the electromagnetic field.” My face in Aw, “That’s genus, Dustin.”

“Thank you,” he gave me a grin, “so we tried to us the compass but El was moving it on us because it wasn’t safe.” His face dropping as we talked, “Lucas got upset with Mike about her…” he looked me in the eyes, “she ran off after she tossed Lucas with her mind.”

I was trying to figure out where to start with this information, “Ok first question, before El was messing with the compass it was working right?”

He nodded his head, “Yeah it was working.”

“Ok so Mr. Clarke’s and my theories were correct.” I informed Dustin with a smile.

“You didn’t.” I could feel my smile getting bigger, “YOU DID.” Before I could began to talk Dustin was asking me questions, “You went through? What was it like? Was…”

“Dustin,” I spoke over him causing him to be quiet, “yes I went through to The Upside Down. It’s not as exciting as you would think.” My smile fell seeing his excited face, “Dustin the only why to find the hole from the so called flea, was from The Demogorgon.” He got pale as I informed him of the minor complication. “El may know where The Gate is but maybe she was trying to keep you three safe from The Demogorgon and what ever else is in The Upside Down.” He looked down at his hands as I placed my right hand on his, “Dustin that place,” he looked me in the eyes, “is dark, cold and dangerous Nancy just made it out alive.”

I think I finally got thought to him of how dangerous it was, “I just want to find Will.”

I squeezed his hand, “And we will find him and get him back safe Dustin.” We gave one another other sad smiles. “I know we will get him home.”

And with that I sent him to bed and soon hopped into my own.

A light shake moved my shoulder, “Vivian.” Dustin voice pulled me from my sleep, “Vivian.”

I opened one eye looking at my clock seeing the time, “It’s to early.” Pulling the blanks over my head.

“Mike just called and El never went home.” That got me to toss my blankets off and out of bed, “Oh good your up.” His tone was snarky as I rushed to get dressed, “I’m going to Mikes.”

I looked over my shoulder, “Ok I’ll start looking for her.” With a nod he was out of my room leaving me to get ready. A black tank top with a dark green plaid button down pulled over top and a pair of black jeans that were already ripped and frayed. Tossing a pair of dark boots and my biker jacket I was out the door, rushing to my car.

I pulled out of the driveway and began looking for the little girl. I drove around looking down streets for a pink dress and a dark coat as I’m sure the boys never gave her now clothes. I began driving into the heart of the town pulling passed the grocery store. Looking over I could see the front doors were shattered; pulling in to the parking lot.

One of the workers trying to clean it up, “Hey what happened?” My voice got them to look up at me.

He shrugged, “They just shattered.” As he went back to cleaning the glass.

All I could think was El could have done it, “How long ago did this happen?”

“Like 20 minutes ago.” Giving me and odd look as I gave him a smile in thanks as I got out of my car, she had to be close.

I rushed across the street and into the woods; I stopped looking around closing my eyes thinks of El and the need to find her. I began walking fallowing my gut walking in deeming into the woods. After walking for what felt like an hour thats when I saw her just sitting there.

“El!” I called out, she jumped up hearing my voice turning to look at me as I rushed over to her. “El.” I hugged, “Your so cold.” I took off my jacket placing it on her to warm her up. “Are you ok?” My hands on her shoulder.

I received a flash of El bringing Mike up from what looked like the cowry, seeing a boy holding a knife to his throat. Then I see the boy telling his parents, I was pulled out hearing El’s voice.

“Yes.” She pulled the jacket closer to her as she nodded to me.

I looked down seeing the yellow boxes of Eggo’s in the dirt, “Got hungry?” She gave me a guilty look. “It’s ok El I’m not mad.” Giving her a smile, “I’m just happy your safe.” She looked like she had a bright light in her eyes happy to have someone that cares about her well-being. “Thank you for keeping the boys safe,” her smile fell a little, “hey boys can be stupid sometimes, especially when it comes to someone they care deeply about.” Trying to get her to understand, “They didn’t see it last night but you did the right thing.”

“Really?” Her voice sounded ruff, like she had been crying.

“Yes really.” Giving her a pound look, “You made sure they were safe, plus they are looking for you too.” I informed her, “Plus the boys are looking for you too.”

“Mike?” She asked for the boy with hope.

Smiled with her, “Yes even Mike.”

In the dissidence we could hear, “EL!” Being yelled out. “EL!”

“Mike!” She sounded exited.

“Lets go find them.” We began walking in the direction of the yelling.

“RUN!” Echoing in the trees; El and I stoped at the sound looking to on and other and began to run. I soon came arrived upon two bikes coming to a stop closing my eyes like I did to find El and began thinking of my brother.

“This way.” I informed El; running once more I pushed knowing full well what was chasing them as soon we came to the old cowry, running down the winding road.

“Oh your fucked.” Mike called out as I began to walk behind the one holding a knife to my brothers neck.

“Hey asshole.” I pulled the boy off my brother pushing him to the ground, “Picking on my brother not the best idea.” Standing in front of the smaller boy, “And with a knife, thats a misdemeanour.” Walking towards him, “The word to big for you? That means to go to jail.”

He push’s himself put holding out the knife at me, “I’m not afraid you.”

I could see El coming to stand close by giving her a nod, “Oh you should be.” I opened my hand out, and without even blinking El pulled the knife form his hand to mine. I closed the blade, “Now you were saying?” The boy in-front of me was still, “Maybe I should bring you closer to me.” El without missing a beat pushed the boy to me stopping about a foot from me, “Stay away from my bother and his friends.”

The two bullies soon began to run away, “Yeah, that’s right! You better run!” Dustin yelling out.

El walked over to me, “You saw…” she looked up at me.

“I did, and one of them was going to say something to there folks.” I looked down at the littler girl, “I couldn’t have them looking for you more then they are.” She nodded in understanding soon Mike ran to her giving her a big hug.

“El.” He was hugging her tightly, “I’m so sorry.” I smiled at the two thinking how cute they look with one and other.

“I’m sorry Mike.” She cried into his shoulder, “The gate…” she pulled away from him, “I opened it, I’m the monster.” Her legs gave out pulling the two to the ground.

“No. No, El,” Mike reassured her as she cried, “you’re not the monster.” He hugged her harder, “You’ll never be a monster.” Dustin walked passed me giving her a hug as well.

I gave them a loving smile as the three hugged happy to have on and other, “I wish I had a camera.”

Dustin groaned with distance causing me to laugh, “You hade to ruin it.” Both Mike and El giggle at Dustins tone.

“Come on when did to get home.” Walking back to pick up the boys bikes, we made it to my car and off to Mikes house to drop them off. “Please be safe guys.” I call out as the enter Mikes home. Once they where inside the home I left them; driving by I see the white van that I’ve been seeing the past few days. I got a bad feeling about the van seeing the man watching me as I pass by.

I knew I couldn’t go home going back to the kids would be a bad idea. I drive around for a bit I should stay in a busy area or at least with some one. Joyce and Jonathan? No they are already losing in on her I would think. I don’t know where Ophelia lives that and I don’t want to bring Papa and this goons to her place. I could leave my car somewhere…and just like that I have a plan.

There sitting in the gas station lot was none other the Eddie Munson’s van; I turn in seeing the guy in question leaning next to his van inhaling his fig. I swear the mans smile was truly contagious. “Hey sweetheart.”

The more he says that, “Hey pretty boy.” I smile sweetly at him as I close my car door, “How’s the book coming along, mellon?”

He pushed of the van walking towards me as I rounded the car, “It’s good I think I’m about half way done.” He took a puff, “Just when the bear is chasing them into a house.”

I nodded as he spoken with me, “Not to far from my favourite part.” I let him know with a sly smile.

“What’s your favourite part?” He asked happily his eyes sparkled when he was taking about something he was interested in.

“Oh, no. I’m not spoiling it for you.” Giggling as I do. That was till he looked down sheepishly and looked at me though his lashes, “You’ve read it!” I gasped, “Why didn’t you say anything?” I playfully hit his shoulder.

He nodded his head bitting his lip, “I’m sorry sweetheart.” Was he flirting with me dropping to his knees dramatically, “Forgive me!”

I began laughing at his dramatic flair, “Ok get up.” Pulling on his arm getting to stand up again, “I forgive you Eddie.” Still laughing with him.

He bowed his arm’s fully out, “Thanks sweetheart.” I rolled my eye’s at his antics smiling.

“You should be in the drama club.” As soon as the words dropped he gasp placing his hand over his heart falling backwards a little.

“Oh sweetheart,” trying not thinking of how it would sound in a different setting, “don’t say that.” He was back to standing at his full height, “Plus I’m already in a club, you know Hellfire.”

“Oh I’m aware.” I knew but I couldn’t help but ask, “So what is the club?” Somehow I came to leaning against is van smile at him.

“It’s a Dungeons & Dragon club.” I tilled my head in false confusion as he happily continued, “It’s a fantasy game, where we embark on epic quests.”

I bit my lip trying hard not to say anything to soon, “So what do you do?” God this was killing me not to play my hand to soon.

He tossed his head back, “Your killing me sweetheart.” He playfully groaned, “You know what!” He jumped in excitement, “I can show you, you busy right now?” I moved my head just a little before he began again, “I mean if you want?” He relaxed with his big doe eye’s bagging me.

“Sure.” I began to walk to the other side of the van when he pulled it open.

“After you.” A half bow as I entered the van.

[thran-duils]

Lost In Zero Gravity (P.12)

Title: Lost In Zero Gravity (Part Twelve) Summary:  Fem!Reader x Mob Boss!Tony Stark x Mob Boss!Steve Rogers.  Reader is a call girl who runs high end parties. She catches the attention of Tony Stark who invites her back to his room with his friend. She might have performed too well because she becomes their new favorite play toy and they don’t like to share. Words: 5,997 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Smut, prostitution, infidelity, angst, domestic violence, stalking, possessive behavior Author’s Note: This is longer than normal, my b. And did I also just watch Iron Man 2 recently? Maybe. Also, I can’t help but to mention Pepper because I love her so much. Even if it’s off to the side. She’s still a queen. I also apologize for the French because I used google translate.

Part Eleven || Part Thirteen || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

One of their guys – Dasco, you had been briefly introduced to, you had not seen him before tonight – was waiting outside the car since he was sitting in the middle row of seats and had to put the seat forward to let you into the back. You had no desire to sit in between Steve and Tony again after what they had just subjected you to. As you approached the car, you did not break stride as you shoved the seat back so you were able to maneuver your way into the middle set of seats in front of them and you settled into the center one.

Dasco made no move to get into the car beside you you saw out of your peripherals as you reached to grab your seatbelt. You heard movement from your left side where Steve was sitting but it stilled all of a sudden.

“Y/N,” you heard Tony start dangerously from the right. “You’ve got ten seconds to rethink that and get your ass back here.”

You considered ignoring him and buckling your seatbelt. But you thought of Dasco – or even worse, one of them – dragging you from the car in front of your grandma who could still plainly see the SUV in the driveway. Exhaling annoyed, you stiffly got up and got back out of the car. Dasco flipped the seat forward again and you peered into the back where Steve and Tony were waiting. Steve’s hand on his knee was taut, his stare hard; your first obstacle into the back seat was getting past him. You crawled in, him not moving an inch, causing you to have to drag your ass across his legs in the process. You plopped into the center seat between them, snug as a bug.

Tony patted your leg, “Good choice. See? Goes so much better when the rules are followed.”

You said nothing not trusting yourself to be calm, digging your hand down by Steve’s thigh to grab the seatbelt clicker. He was still unmoving, and you held back a scowl having to dig deeper, brushing his ass. Clicking your seatbelt in place, you sat back, staring at nothing. You wiped at your eyes again, trying to clean up your mascara.

Tony was already on his tablet, working on something. You could not make heads or tails of what he did, so you did not even bother trying to pay attention. You snuck a look and saw Steve was looking at his stocks. Typical. Bending forward, you grabbed your purse and got your phone out. Opening up your décor app, you set to trying to distract yourself with it.

“Y/N, I think you also owe Terrence an apology,” Steve told you firmly. “Just so you make all the amends you need to for your stupid actions as of late.”

Your gaze snapped to the review mirror where you saw Terrence peering at you from the driver’s seat. He was not going to move the car until you did as you had been told.

“I’m sorry for drugging you,” you said stiffly. “You were an innocent bystander.”

You noticed Tony’s lips twitch like he was going to smirk, amused. He hid it though when he saw he had drawn your attention.

A few moments of silence passed before Terrence replied, “At least you gave me some good vodka to bring me down.”

<><><>

You fell asleep along the drive, waking up with your head resting on Steve’s shoulder, much to your annoyance. You had purposely fallen asleep with your head back on the seat, but you must have rolled to the side. You rolled away from him, trying to make as much space as possible which was virtually impossible, but you tried, nonetheless. Steve cracked his eyes open to side eye you, having dozed off himself.

Looking out the windows, you noticed you were back in the city, very close to home.

Picking up your purse, you dug in. Your brow furrowed as your hand searched not finding what you were digging for.

“Looking for something?” Steve asked dryly, eyes fully open now.

Settling back into the seat, you asked tightly, “Can I have my phone back?” On cue, Tony handed you a phone, but it was not your phone. Irritated, you said, “This isn’t mine.”

“It is now,” Tony answered. “Your SIM card is in this one now, it’s just under my plan. It was hell tracking you down with your other one. Thankfully, Tatiana doesn’t like her shit being broken and your grandma was nice enough to tell Daryl what club you were at. But I will not be wasting my time or energy like that again even with that help.”

You rounded on him as much as you could in the confined space and demanded, “What did you do to Tatiana?”

Tony shrugged, “Nothing to her. Just broke some shit. Like I said.” Clenching your teeth, you stared down at the new phone. Tony reached over tapping it, “Like I said, everything’s in there from your old phone.” Tears stung your eyes and you sat back defeated. “Love, come on. It was just a phone.”

“I liked my old phone case,” you said pathetically. That was true and it would not fit this new phone. But it definitely went deeper. Your phone was one thing that had been yours and yours alone. You had paid for it yourself, you had your own plan, it was something independent.

“Then order it again but sized to this,” Tony said flippantly. “It’s not that hard, Y/N.”

“I don’t want to do that! I want my phone!” you exclaimed, on the brink of absolutely losing it. You tossed the phone past your legs onto the ground in frustration.

“Stop being a brat. It’s not cute,” Steve snapped from beside you, his hand coming to your thigh and his fingers digging in painfully. “Now pick up that damn phone and stop with the dramatics. I’ve frankly had my fill of them. You’ve reached your quota, Y/N. Reel it back in now.” Steve was burning a hole through you with how he was staring at you and you tore your gaze away from him, bending forward and swiping the phone off the ground. His voice was taut when he spat, “Thank you.”

Tony picked up your purse for you from the ground and held out his hand. You handed the phone to him and he placed it inside and tossed the purse onto your lap.

Thankfully, Daryl pulled up along the sidewalk outside of the apartment building to end the situation.

Steve let go of you as the doors to the sidewalk opened, Dasco and the other, Raphael, getting out before Raphael let the seat up to let Tony crawl out. You began to follow him, but Steve grabbed you roughly again, stilling your movement before you could get fully out of the seat.

“Lucky for you and that pussy of yours, I’m needed back at home,” he fumed.

You were silent, seeing the anger swimming in his eyes. He was furious about the whole ordeal, that was apparent.

“Behave for Tony.”

You only had a moment to ponder what that meant before the back opened where your bag was and Daryl dug in, invading the bubble Steve and you had been holding. He let go of you and settled back in the seat, his glare still directed at you. You inhaled sharply before resuming your exit of the car.

Tony led you inside the apartment building past the doorman and the front desk to the elevator. He was carrying your bag, Daryl stopping in the lobby at the desk to flirt with the front desk receptionist as he usually did. You were sure he was banging her. Terrence got into the elevator with the two of you. Again, Tony’s hand was at the small of your back leading you down the hall from the elevator to the apartment, keeping you on the path. His keys jangled as he let the two of you into the apartment, pushing you in ahead of him. Your eyes scanned the room – nothing had changed. It had only been a few days, so that should not be much of a shock. But you certainly felt trapped again, knowing you were stuck back in here. There was no way they were going to give you your apartment key back.

Luna meowed from one of her cat towers at you, drawing your attention. Tony was at your back and he said, “Oh yeah, got her back. That cat is also mine, so maybe consult me next time, yeah?”

He left your back, moving down the hallway towards the bedroom. It was early in the morning and you just wanted to go back to sleep. You turned, following him down the hallway to the bedroom lethargically.

There was a travel bag on one of the side chairs by the window and you furrowed your brow because it was not yours. Tony was holding yours as he placed it on the other chair.

Tony turned around, spotting your confused look. He cleared his throat and then said, “Oh, right. Sorry. I’m staying here for a while. Giving the missus some space until she decides to stop being a bitch. Looks like we are bunking together.”

The last thing you wanted to do was to sleep next to him.

“I’ll take the couch then,” you muttered, turning around tiredly.

You heard him coming up behind you quickly and his hands closing in on your waist and arm stopped you, pulling you flush to him. Nuzzling into your neck he said, “Come on, love. Cross my heart, won’t touch you once we are in there settled in. We can both sleep in the bed. Soundly and sweetly. I won’t even complain if you wake up in the middle of the night and turn the TV on because you can’t sleep.”

You hated he knew you so well.

He laid a soft kiss on your cheek and you went rigid. He noticed, sighing heavily. His hand at your arm left, but his one at your hip lingered, his fingers circling softly.

“You’re upset. That’s okay. But you can sleep in the bed with me. There’s enough space. Right? It’s a king.”

Remembering Steve’s threat, you gritted, “Yeah.”

“Good girl,” Tony praised softly, letting his other hand fall. He moved around you towards the door. “I’m going to get ready for bed. I’ll join you shortly.”

He left the room and you turned back towards the bed, staring at it. He must have been already staying here because the bed was unmade – you had left it made, a habit. His wife must have kicked him out the day of and he had come here for safe haven. Your eyes fell to the end of the bed, thinking of you cowering there when his wife had assaulted you. You could not think about that. Tearing your eyes away, you moved towards your dresser, going to fetch some clean boxers to change into.

You got onto your side, your back to him trying to be as far away from his as possible whenever he got back from the bathroom.

When he walked back in, he turned the light off, shrouding the room in darkness. The bed dipped with his added weight on the other side, the comforter shifting as he covered himself. He was keeping his word though, staying on his side of the bed, adjusting the pillows. You relaxed only slightly, hoping it would stay that away, that he was not going to force anything onto you. Especially not after all the shit that had happened earlier tonight.

The room was quiet, the two of your breaths filling the space. You shifted, burying yourself further into your pillows, trying to will yourself to fall asleep. For how tired you were, you had worked yourself back up again.

Tony broke the silence, “I am sorry.”

Your eyes popped open at the sentence, your brow furrowed in confusion. Unable to help yourself, you turned your head to look at him. His hands were folded behind his head, his upper chest exposed. When he felt you move, his head turned to meet your gaze. “About my wife being a psycho and having you in that position. And with your grandma. That went… a little far.” You refrained from saying anything despite all the expletives you wanted to hurl at him at the emotions all of those memories brought up. He respected your silent treatment and did not press you to respond, “Just thought that needed to be said. Feels it was owed if you know what I mean.”

Not knowing how else to respond to it, you said quietly, “Thanks.”

He nodded, turning his head back and closing his eyes.

Confused immensely by that turn of events, you slowly turned back over, tucking your pillow back underneath your head. Silence blanketed the room again and you knew that was really the good night.

<><><>

Groggily, Tony walked into the kitchen, shirt still missing and in his boxer briefs, finding you working already on food for dinner. You pointed at the counter and said, “The jam and peanut butter are already out if you want to make yourself some toast.”

“No, too early,” Tony grumbled walking over to the counter. He furrowed his brow and asked, “Where’s the coffee?”

“In the bag.”

“Then what roused me from sleep?”

“Probably the cold bed,” you quipped not turning around as you poured more spices into the bowl you were using to collect them all.

You felt his eyes burning into the back of your head as you moved to pull the chicken from the fridge. As you approached the island again, you looked at him, finding him staring at you as you suspected. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said before moving to go make himself coffee.

He poured out his serving into the coffee filter and pressed start. Coming back over to the island, he watched you put the chicken breast into the bag and pour some soy sauce, fresh garlic, and vegetable oil over it.

“What are you doing?”

“Making a marinade.” Tony looked surprised and you said, “You tell me to buy groceries and then are confused when I do something with them?”

“Love, attitude,” Tony tsked. He peered towards the spice bowl you were working with. “What spices are you using?”

“Cloves, fennel, cinnamon, anise, cayenne, nutmeg, salt, pepper, thyme. It’s not the exact recipe but I like it more.”

He rose his brows and muttered, “Jesus. Who knew you were a little chef?”

“Happens when you have a parent who has cooking for a hobby. Rubs off on you. Do you want me to thaw you a piece in the microwave – cause sorry, I thawed mine in the fridge overnight – and add it to the bag for dinner?”

That comment amused him and he cracked a smirk, leaning on the counter. “You sound like a proper housewife, dear.”

“Well, it would be rude of me to not offer to make you some when I’m already making it for myself,” you told him honestly as you moved the wet ingredients around the chicken already in the bag.

His fingers traced your hip lightly watching you. “Are you going to poison me?”

“What good would that do me to poison myself as well in the process?” you deadpanned, looking at him.

Tony’s lips stretched into a smile and he chortled. “You’re lucky I’m not as high strung as our friend Steven.”

Swallowing your pride, you turned your body more towards him, pressing against him. “Is that a yes or no? Just so it can all marinade together in the same bag. I wanna throw the spices in over all the chicken I’m going to be cooking with.”

Tony’s gaze fell to your cleavage exposed through your silk robe before trailing back up to your face. He smiled again, leaning in and giving you a slow kiss. You were tense but tried to force yourself to relax.

“Impress me,” Tony winked before pulling away to go pour himself some coffee.

“Where’s Steve?”  you asked, your curiosity getting the better of you as you moved the spices around now.

“Busy wooing his wife. He took her on a trip,” Tony answered you honestly.

So, the trip he had mentioned to your grandma had not been a lie. You were just not invited. That made you even more upset with him if possible. You made a disgruntled noise as Tony poured his coffee.

“Well, I’m gonna wanna grill these upstairs tonight. So, when are you going to be home or can one of the guys take me up to the roof to do so?”

Tony took a drink of his coffee and shrugged. “If you’re actually going to make me dinner, I’ll be home whenever you tell me to.”

“Seven then.”

He winked again, “Seven it is” before he turned, taking his coffee back down the hallway. “I’m gonna lay in bed and watch the news.”

You watched him leave, your eyes narrowing. He was acting normal… like nothing had happened. That set you on edge, but you decided it was better to play along with it. Maybe he was really trying to make amends.

<><><>

The following evening, you heard the bathroom door open as you were showering, and saw Tony enter. The shower was an open one, only a pane of glass on half, the opening walk in. The glass pane was fogged up but you could still see him as he began to strip as soon as the door was closed behind him. You walked over to the opening, running your hands through your wet hair to greet him but you stepped back seeing the blood on his shirt as he took it off.

He noticed you were staring, and he shrugged the shirt off, tossing it onto the ground.

“That was a long time coming for that complete waste of space,” Tony told you, sounding unperturbed. He offered, “Would it make you feel better if I washed my hands first before getting in?”

“Yes,” you said warily.

He shrugged and turned towards the sink, turning the water on. You watched his back muscles work as he scrubbed at his hands, washing them not twice but three times for you. Your eyes fell to the shirt again, taking in the blood splattered across it.

“I’m gonna burn it, don’t worry,” he told you catching your attention again as he wiped his hands on his trousers to dry them. Those went off next and he kicked off his socks. He must have left his shoes at the door. He gestured at you to move back and you did, allowing him access into he shower. He hissed against the water temperature and said, “Do you like to feel like you’re in hell?”

He pressed flush against you, his gaze burning into yours as he reached behind you to adjust the water temperature.

“That’s better. Jesus,” he muttered, lingering against you. “It was like you were trying to melt away.”

“I like it hot,” you retorted.

“Me too,” he chuckled, leaning down and kissing you. “Just in different ways.”

You rolled your eyes and turned away from him, but his arms wrapped around you, pulling you back to his chest.

“You were made to be worshipped,” Tony husked, his lips trailing along your shoulder, ending at your neck. His hands ran up between your breasts, cupping them tightly. He squeezed at your nipples as he sucked at your neck.

How hands that had murdered someone were so compassionate with you was beyond you.

“Tony, I need to condition my hair—” you started to argue, trying to free yourself from his grasp.

“You have dry conditioner. And don’t lie to me, I’ve seen it in the cupboard above the sink,” he argued back, his hand slipping down to your sex, his fingers pressing past your folds. “And if it’s that important, you can finish cleaning up after. I know I’m going to have to.”

Knowing he was not going to relent, you yielded to his touch, falling back into his embrace. He hummed in approval, his fingers diving deeper, squeezing at your clit gently. You pressed back against his pelvis and he chuckled, his lips trailing soft kisses up your shoulder. He played with your sex, dragging his fingers up and down, working you up.

“Gotta get you good and wet for me, right, baby?” You nodded in approval and he laughed, nipping at your neck, his other hand taut around your throat. “But not too much. I want that pretty pussy clenching around my cock, not my fingers.”

Tony shut the water off. “Don’t need any slipping hazards here.”

Pressing back, you presented to him, hating giving into your desire so soon, but also wanting the release he had started to press you towards. Tony let out a throaty chuckle, his hand trailing up your ass before he smacked, causing you to gasp. He smacked again and you let out another noise. “You’re so adorable, love.”

His cock dragged up your ass, pressing your cheeks against his cock. He slid up and down, exhaling shakily. “How are you so perfect?” he breathed, his hand coming back up to snake around your neck, the other at your hip.

He entered slowly and you breathed steadily as his hand flexed on your neck as his cock slid deeper. He was fully seated inside you and you shuddered, dipping your head. You clenched around him, trying to will him to move but he ignored it. He was still, holding you in place as you held him inside you.

“You like that? Being full of my cock?” he husked, his hand tightening on your hip. You nodded fervently, just wanting him to move, to do anything. His chest pressed against your back and his lips brushed your ear, “Say it.”

“Yes, I love it. Tony, Jesus, please just fuck me!”

He let out a laugh before he pulled out, his head almost leaving you before he slammed back in, jolting you against the wall. Your fingers dug into the tile as he drove up into you repeatedly with all his force. You were not quiet, falling into the rhythm of him thrusting into you and feeling his cock brush your g spot. You adjusted your hips trying to get him to hit it more and he laughed, getting the gist of what you were doing.

“Oh baby, you know the best angle for that is you face down.”

In a fluid motion, his hand fell from your throat and he pulled out of you. You whined in disapproval.

“Don’t be disappointed yet, love,” he told you, his hand coming to your shoulder and forcing you to your knees. “Get that ass up for me.”

You immediately did as he asked, and you felt him prodding at your entrance before he slipped back in. You cried out as he hit you full on and he groaned in approval hearing your praise. His hands were gripping your hips as he plummeted, impaling you against the tile of the bed of the shower. He was unrelenting, as if he was letting out the last week’s of pent up lust right into you. And you were relishing in it, racing.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you gasped feeling yourself spiraling quick.

“Come for me, baby,” Tony demanded, his hip snapping quicker.

That was all the permission you needed. You did as he ordered, your walls constricting and animalistic cries leaving your lips. Tony growled in approval, his thrusts becoming shallow. And he released, holding up your limp frame as he emptied inside you.

His grip laxed and you collapsed further into the tile, still trying to bring your own heart rate down.

“Shit,” he breathed after a minute, fully pulling away, leaving his cum dripping out of you. He stood up, stretching his body out.

You followed his lead and he helped you get to steady grounding. His nose nuzzled into your neck again and he walked with you towards the front of the shower, you letting him guide you. He pulled the handle, turning the water back on, thankfully at a reasonable temperature.

“Let’s clean ourselves up,” he murmured, kissing at your cheek, still holding you tight.

Tony pulled you back into the line of water, still holding you close. He reached behind him, grabbing the bar soap and he foamed his hands in front of you with the soap before placing it back. His hands ran up and down your frame, cupping and dipping, lathering you up. You relaxed, letting him clean you. His hands snaked between your legs and he cleaned himself from between your thighs.

Turning around, you looked up at him and he smiled, his hands coming around to massage at your ass. The water dripped around you, cleansing the soap from your frame. He rinsed his hands of the soap.

He broke the silence by saying, “The trip got moved up. We’re going to leave tomorrow.”

“Excuse me?” you asked confused.

He wiped at the water running down his face and said, “The trip. The one Steve told you about at your grandma’s – sorry, I know, still a sore subject. But the one planned for you.”

“But… he’s on a trip. Without me.”

Tony cocked an eyebrow and asked, “Yeah, he is. Which is why you’re coming with me on mine. Just to keep an eye on you and all, love.” He did not trust to leave you here by yourself apparently. So, not only were you not allowed to have your key again, you could not spend copious amounts of time here alone if they were not in the city. He grabbed the soap and lathered up his hands again, for himself now you guessed. “It’s gonna be four days. Although, about 26 hours will be spent on a plane. But Monaco.”

“Monaco…?”

Washing his chest, Tony nodded. “Mhmm.”

“Where is that?”

“Oh, southside of France. Little country.”

“For what?”

“That’s not anything you have to worry your pretty little head about,” Tony purred, his lips meeting yours again sensually. He pulled away and started washing himself down. “When we get back though, I will be going on another trip but that’s with the kids. So, you’ll stay here but Steve will be back by then. And I’ll tell him to be nice to you like he should be. He’ll behave himself, trust me, love.”

He winked at you before adjusting the shower head to aim more towards his body.

<><><>

You walked through the bar, Tony stopping you to pause at the camera. “Smile, baby,” he ordered you through his teeth and you did as he asked, trying to be natural. He guided you along further and whispered, “Well, that’s not going to make the missus happy. But, I should have assumed paparazzi would be here. I mean it is a highly publicized race.” Your eyes moved to the windows, looking out over the racetrack. “I did come here to speak business though.”

Since you had arrived in France, it had been getting off Tony’s plane, into a car, driving here, and sleeping. When you had been roused, it was to get ready and get yourself preened for this event. Tony had given you a bodycon red dress to put on for the event and he had winked at you when he said it was his color.

He brought you to the bar and his hand was flat against your hip, holding you to his side.

“Mimosa?” he asked quietly. “It is only 10:30 and that won’t draw too many suspicions.”

You met his gaze and said, “Vodka.”

His face broke into a smile and he chuckled, “That’s my girl” as the bartender came in front of him. “A screwdriver for my lovely date here and bourbon straight.”

When the two of you turned around, there was a man standing there with two men behind him.

“Laurie, I didn’t expect to see you but what a wonderful surprise,” Tony said politely, not being one to be caught off guard so easily. “You do have a racer today though, do you not? What a coincidence, so do I.”

The man he addressed, Laurie, shot a look at you before meeting Tony’s eyes again. He said something in French to Tony that you could not understand. They had a small conversation that got tighter the longer it went on and you were growing uncomfortable with each passing second with the growing tension. You took a long drink of your screwdriver.

Laurie’s eyes ran over you again lewdly and he said something to Tony that had Tony smile but there was no humor in his eyes. His fingers held tighter at your hip at it. His tone was frigid when he responded, “Vous pouvez parier que je ne perdrai pas car c’est mon jouet préféré.” (You can bet I won’t lose because its my favorite toy)

In response to Tony’s cold response, Laurie’s lips stretched across his lips in a challenging smile.

Turning his gaze back to you, Laurie said, in English, “You should hope Stark wins.”

Shooting Tony a dangerous look, he snapped his fingers at the men behind him before walking off, them following him.

Tony let out an annoyed breath and took a long drink of his bourbon, smacking his lips. “Fucking prick,” he muttered.

“Something wrong?”

“No. Nothing. Rival boss. He owns Blanchet Industries.”

“You’re lying. Something went wrong,” you accused him.

Tony turned his head to look at you and you stared back expectantly. He could not lie to you about that, it was plain as day something had transpired.

Seeing your defiance, he shrugged. “He’s mad I’m meeting with the man I am meeting with later. And he wanted to bet on the race.”

“Okay?”

“It’s not a big deal, love,” he said. “I’ll win. I’ll make sure of it.”

You did not like the sound of that but you followed his lead as he began to walk. He took a long drink of his bourbon again. The two of you approached a table with three people you had not seen before. You looked over your shoulder, not seeing any of Tony’s men in the room anymore. They had left the two of you at the door; were you to be that protected in this room? You felt some relief though the moment you saw Daryl coming through the crowd towards the table.

Pulling one of the chairs out from the table, Tony gestured for you to sit, tapping your ass.

“Nice of you to finally show up,” one of the men said, sitting rigid in his chair.

“Nice to see you too, Rhodey,” Tony responded as you sat down. He pushed your chair in and finished off his bourbon before placing it on the table. “I need to use the restroom. Love, this is Rhodey, Pepper, and Happy. Just sit tight with them. I’ll be back before you know it.”

He kissed the top of your head and strode off before you could even get a word out. Gaping like a fish, you watched him walk off. You felt the air shift beside you and Daryl was sitting down at the table.

“Daryl,” the other man – Happy, you assumed – greeted him.

“Happy,” he said in return.

You looked around the table and found Rhodey was the only one giving you a friendly smile out of the three. You settled back into the chair, putting your clutch on the table. You took another deep drink of your screwdriver.

“How are you enjoying Monaco?” Rhodey asked you, trying to make small talk. You leaned into it, trying to find some comfortability about being thrust at this table with people you did not know.

And it went well enough until Pepper gasped from across the table, leaning onto it. You followed her gaze to the TV, seeing Tony was on the TV. Your eyes bugged seeing he was in a racing suit. He had not told you he was going to be racing and you watched in shock as the roster flew up on the screen and the original driver’s name was replaced with his.

“Did he tell you he was going to do this?” Pepper demanded at Daryl.

Daryl shook his head, “No, ma’am.”

On the TV, Tony was telling the interviewers, “What’s the use of having and owning a race car… if you don’t drive it?”

“I’m gonna kill him.” Pepper breathed from across the table. “If he doesn’t kill himself, I’m going to kill him.”

You sat there in shock watching him getting geared up and into the racecar. Spotting a waiter, you reached out, stopping their movement. “Um, can I get shots for the table? Two for me, actually.” The waiter nodded and walked off. You looked back at everyone and saw their expressions. “What? He drives me insane too. Just let me handle it the way I do best.”

You looked back at the TV seeing him pull away from the pit stop.

Laurie’s words from just a handful of minutes before came back to you.

You should hope Stark wins.

Your fingers were digging into the back of your chair as you were glued to the screen. You only turned away when the shots came back and you rifled one down your throat. Your knuckles were pale the whole race, your hands gripping the chair. You only relaxed when you saw him come in third, two cars before Blanchet Industries’ car.

Tony hopped out of his car, waving at the cameras, looking triumphant. You turned back to the table and took the other shot. You noticed everyone else’s original shot glasses were empty too and at least you had done them that solid of giving them some liquid relaxation even if they had not taken the shots with you.

When he came back up to the table, he was back in his suit.

Pepper hopped from the table and got in his face, hissing at him, pushing him away from the table, and he was talking quietly back to her. The two of them were suspended in argument and you watched curiously.

Daryl leaned over and said, “She’s CEO now of Stark Industries. She’s gonna have to do some PR on this.”

Tony did not seem to calm her down, but he found an avenue to get out of the conversation which looked like basically just walking out of it. He came over to your chair and said, “Come on, Y/N. We have a private pool back at the villa. I need to relax. I got pretty tense during that race.”

Stumbling out of the chair because he was pulling you, you steadied yourself, throwing a look back at Daryl who shrugged as he got out of the car to follow the two of you. You matched Tony’s stride, moving past the paparazzi.

Out on the patio, you demanded, “You really threw everyone off guard and for what? Why did you have to win so badly? Why did you race?”

“Because he wanted to win you if I lost,” Tony responded out of the corner of his mouth as you walked down the stairs.

You stopped, causing him to stumble for once. He turned back to look at you as it clicked he had put your ass on the line because of his fucking ego? He could have told the guy to fuck off but he had accepted that bet? And then just raced?

Scoffing, you pushed away from his side, glaring up at him, rage tearing up inside you.

Tony’s expression melted to vexation, knowing the contempt rising up in you, “Y/N, sweetheart…”

“You’re an asshole!” you snapped at him before turning sharply and storming away from him towards the car where Terrence was waiting.

~~~

Forever tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld

Fic tags: @icant-hangout-imdrumming @oceaniamaddness @multifandom-superlover @imsonick @holl2712 @here4thefanfics

[spitpr1ncess]

Can I Call You Sir? / Nanami Kento x Fem Reader

--“And if I did? It’s only proved what I thought to be true all along. You’re a little degenerate, like me. I just wanted to test you, to know if you wanted what I wanted. Seems like you do, so tell me to stop and I will. Tell me you’re leaving, I’ll let you. I’m not going to force you to do anything, I respect your boundaries, and I respect that this is wrong. It just, feels so right. So deny it.”--

Fucking bullshit.

You stare at the graded paper before you and seethe from the inside out. An F? A fail?! But you’d studied relentlessly! The only thought you were having was how your mother was going to kill you when she finds out, you can practically hear her shrieking, “I’m paying heaps of money to put you through university and this is what you have to show for it?

Professor Nanami is writing something that looks vaguely recognizable on the chalk board, his tall but slim body looking oddly out of place at the front of the long classroom as you glare holes into the back of his blue shirt. There wasn’t a single person you hated more than him in this never-ending moment. You yawn and allow your head to fall heavy onto your crossed arms, hiding your shameful test results. You could listen to Professor Nanami with your eyes closed based solely on the fact that you would be failing the rest of this term if your test results were anything to go by.

The rest of the lesson passes quickly as you fall victim to maladaptive daydreams, playing out every single scenario where you approach Professor Nanami and question his harsh grading. You aren’t a stupid girl, in fact, in every other class you were smashing your target or hitting above. What was this mans problem? You imagine slamming your paper down in front of him, arms crossed and little foot tapping the floor. “Do you hate me?”, “So you have favourites?”, or just a plain “what the fuck?!” were among the favourites you’d rehearsed. His face was cold as stone as he stared back before licking his lower lip and smirking, pulling his glasses atop his head, causing a pretty ripple in his hair as he stands absolutely towering over you. A large thumb lifts your chin to look at him as his eyes bore into you. Then his lips are on yours.

Wait what?

What?

You’re roughly pulled from your daydream by your hair as a pair of polished brown shoes stand at the foot of your worn school desk and a voice beckons your name. Professor Nanami is stood less than a foot in front of you waiting for an explanation. You shoot bolt upright in the uncomfortable wooden chair as your entire body feels like its been zapped by an electric fence. You can feel the blush in your face spreading to your ears as you push the strange daydream to the back of your degenerate mind.

“Sleeping through my lectures will not help you fix that broken grade, Miss Reader. Do you understand me? Or do I need to put it more plainly? It can’t be easy with a simple mind like yours, but I’m sure we could find a way to help you absorb what I’m saying.” His eyes are cold as steel and boring into your soul, he doesn’t even blink, he’s like a robot. You hold his gaze before risking a look around the classroom revealing that it is completely empty, not a soul to be seen, brilliant. So not only had you failed your test but you’d also voluntarily agreed to extracurricular activities whilst daydreaming about kissing your Professor, it sure was a great day to be you.

You panic, how were you going to salvage this? You needed to think quickly, but nothing was springing to mind.

Clearing your throat and calming your nerves you begin, “sorry Professor I didn’t get much sleep last night, I have a lot going on at home so am finding it difficult to participate in classes at the moment.”

You are?

He lets out a small snort as he sits at the edge of your desk, peering down at you through his glasses, a look of judgement plasters his incredibly chiselled facial features, he is beautiful, and you’re happy to admit that, whether or not it could get you in trouble.

What?

“Your lies won’t cut it here, you’re excelling in all your other classes, algebra, languages and biology. These are not easy subjects and geography is a breeze in comparison, so why are you failing? Are you doing it on purpose?” Your attention is drawn to his strong throat and his Adams apple lifts and falls again as he swallows and you wonder if he is anxious about approaching you, not that he has any reason to be.

You feel anger bubble in your throat as you argue back, “I’m not a liar. I’m having trouble concentrating here. Your teaching, the class size, the fact the class is the last of the day, maybe you’re grading me too harshly! Have you considered that? Nobody else failed, so why did I?!” Your voice is shaking now and your knuckles are white as you push your nails into your palms, drawing blood. Professor Nanami looks at you for a moment before standing and heading back to his desk at the front of the class where he picks up a piece of chalk and some papers and begins to write.

“Question one is on plate tectonics, lets begin there. Would you care to explain the theory to me?” He turns and gives you a weirdly friendly smile, you calm your nerves and take a breath, opening your paper and looking at your answer, you read out the sentences you had written and cringe as you allow Professor Nanami to correct you, taking notes on his tutoring. Your personal four o’clock class finishes at just past seven as you both wrap up the test paper and Nanami wipes the board clean.

“In future Miss Reader, you come to me when you need help. You’re a smart young lady really, you know that, so put your brain to use. You’re going to do great things after your course is up so don’t discredit yourself over one failed paper.” He sits at his desk and waves his hand to dismiss you. “You’d better go now, I’m sure you have a worried boyfriend wondering where you’ve gotten to so late in the evening.” He pushes his glasses onto the top of his head, much like in your daydream, and you appreciate how good he looks for a moment. He’s aged yes, around thirty yes, but still gorgeous. You know the girls at University fawn over him, fighting to get even a slither of attention, and here you were, in a private tutoring session of your own, and without even meaning to.

You ponder the boyfriend comment before packing up and heading for the exit, deciding to test the waters you address him, “I don’t have a boyfriend Professor you see I simply don’t have time, and anyway, none of the boys here are mature enough to interest me.” You turn and give him a smile as you catch his gaze flitting up from where your stockings meet the fat of your thighs, you roll your eyes at him and shake your head as you sigh and leave for the night.

This was an interesting development.

-

Sleep washes over you as you awaken in your dream. Professor Nanami is sitting before you, he beckons for you to sit on his lap, you oblige and as you nestle against his chest, his fingers find the edge of your stocking, he traces lazy patterns on your thigh, eliciting a small sigh of pleasure from you. He nuzzles his nose against your cheek and plants a soft kiss against your neck, he pushes your soft hair behind your ear and begins to litter kisses on your sensitive lobe.

“Sweet thing, you smell heavenly, I just want to devour you.” He whispers. You throw your head back and invite him to suck and nip at your exposed throat, completely vulnerable in his arms you entrust him with your entirety. He groans as you manoeuvre your little waist to create friction with the fat of your ass and you’re met with the impossible hardness between his legs, this moment between the two of you feels like fireworks, everything is at a standstill and there is nothing but your two bodies, completely entwined, obsessed with each other’s perfect anatomy. You continue to explore each other physically as you mewl and sigh rhythmically, nothing has ever felt better than your Professors loving touch on your absolute innocence. You’d been with boys yes, but never a man like Nanami.

“Nanamin,” you cry out as he finds the hotness between your legs.

“Sweet girl, I’ll take the best care of you, just relax.” he speaks like sweet poetry from his mouth that tastes like the most expensive organic honey. Your breath hitches as he starts to disappear, you reach out but he is no longer there.

-

You jolt awake as you feel wetness pooling between your legs, the hotness and lack of friction so unbearable you are torn from the dream of all dreams.

Fuck, this is weird now.

Daydreaming about your Professor wouldn’t be the worst thing if you weren’t now absolutely sopping wet and grinding against your own mattress. You dare to slip a tiny hand under the waistband of your pants and give a little release to yourself, it felt unreal, and without realizing you were picturing him as you drive yourself to the edge and jump off head first. You’re picturing his pretty features and strong hands, his soft lips and authoritarian stare. In your head he’s praising you, “sweet thing, sweet girl” he says. You shudder as you come down from the satiating high and allow shame to encase you completely, rolling over, you stare at the screen of your phone.

5:38. A notification flashes from last night.

baby nobara: maps said you left uni at 7! wtf were u doing?? ps, shopping tmorrow?

You open the notification and type a quick reply.

you: was just studying, nothing important hahahah. sure! meet me at 11?

With that, you roll back over and let sleep nestle you gently between her arms.

-

It’s twenty minutes after your planned meet time that Nobara turns up, and holding a Krispy Kreme bag full of donuts and a doc marten tote housing at least one new pair of shoes, she’d obviously done a pre-shop, not that it was particularly out of character for her. Her gentle face is plastered with a mischievous grin as she runs and embraces you like two sisters might embrace after a long time away from each other’s presence

“I had to warm up before we got started!” she laughs at you, and all is forgiven in a matter of seconds. You’re both giggling as she opens the bag and makes you a peace offering of a strawberry donut, you eagerly accept as you discuss what shops you want to hit up today. You both spend hours browsing, trying on and chatting about everything, you don’t get to see Nobara often as you have alternating days on campus and your schedules clash horribly so the times you do spend together are cram packed full of mischief.

You’re walking past a load of stores as you approach Victoria's Secret and you immediately flash back to Professor Nanamis eyes on your stockings last night and his comment about your supposed boyfriend. Cogs are turning in your mind but before you have time to make the connection, you’re being dragged in, you have no objections and are pleasantly surprised by the variety of lingerie this particular chain of store holds. You pick out a few different numbers including a black corset body suit and a matching garter with stockings, you knew the reason for picking it out was completely inappropriate but it didn’t stop you from taking it to the counter and paying nearly 100 dollars for it. You grinned as you schemed yet another daydream waiting for your friend to decide on the bits she wanted.

You both decide on a little sushi place for lunch and as you fill your mouth with miso Nobara asks, “Who are you fucking? It has to be someone at university, that’s why you stayed so late, right?” The question completely winds you as you try not to choke on your food. Your eyes are watering as you try to explain that it was just extra-curricular studies. Nobara nods and rolls her eyes, “You don’t have to lie to me, I’ll find out sure enough.” She laughs as you pray she lets this go, shovelling some nigiri into her mouth she waves you off. “Chill,” she says as you allow your heart to slow in your chest.

You give her a hug as you finally part ways and she ruffles your hair, “See you around”, and with that she’s gone. You begin the walk home as you reflect on the events of today, you reel as you come to the realization you spent 100 dollars on a lingerie set for a man over ten years your senior who would less than likely ever find out you’d bought it. Unless.

No.

You shake the thought of trying to bait your own Professor after barely scraping by the last term, expulsion for indecent behaviour seems somewhat worse, at least you think. It also doesn’t seem good for Nobara to now suspect you have something going on with somebody, she has to know all the top gossip and you don’t doubt she will find a way. Now that you think about it, you should turn your phone location off. You know your friend would stalk you for the sake of some scandalous news she can tease you about. You giggle to yourself, you and Professor Nanami, what a thought.

-

The bell rings as you finish washing your hands, you stopped to use the bathroom before your final class of the day, Geography. You’d been anticipating this class, having chosen the black corset body suit with stockings to match, you’d paired it with a mid-length black satin skirt and an oversized cardigan, it was enough to feel comfortable in, and not break any regulations but enough for Professor Nanami to notice, which was just perfect. You wanted to test the waters after his comment and wandering eyes, you’d had time to stew over your awful test results and were wondering if maybe he was a little harsh with the grading. Either way, today would tell.

You hurry up the stairs and down the long corridor to the classroom where he lectures, there were around 30 students already settled in class and you could see your Professor writing on the board. You slip in quietly and take your seat at the back of the class, you shed your cardigan, giving a frontal view of your chest and begin to take notes. You ensure you pay full attention to todays class, not taking your eyes off the man at the front of your lecture room. You meet his gaze a few times and you sense him trying really hard to not allow his eager eyes to flit downwards, you wish for him to give you anything more than a feeling to go off of but he’s stone cold and hard as steel. As the class draws to an end Nanami dismisses the students and you wait until the room has emptied before you walk towards his desk. You wait for him to address you.

“Miss Reader, can I help you with something?” he doesn’t meet your gaze and instead continues typing something on his keyboard, you’re frustrated with how nonchalant he’s being, how you’ve probably misread the entire encounter, how you’ve created a whole reality from nothing.

“I, I was hoping maybe you would assist me with some questions I have from the class today Sir, if you have time of course.” If he wanted to play games, he would get games, you might be younger than him but you’re not stupid.

“That’s okay, you’ll have to give me ten minutes whilst I finish this email, then I’m all yours. Feel free to take a seat.” He motions for the first desk in the front row and you roll your eyes as you decide to make a stand. You pull a chair from the side of the room to Nanamis desk and sit directly opposite him, you take out your textbooks and begin to lay them out on the space behind his computer, sitting down you cross your legs, brushing his shin with your shoe. You’re sure you see his jaw tighten, but he plays it off by cracking his neck, the loud crunch distracts from the tension filled silence and you lick your bottom lip in anticipation.

He finishes with his email and pushes the computer screen to the side of his desk then leans back in his chair and loosens his tie slightly, he catches you watching the space above where his shirt is buttoned and smirks, “So what questions do you have sweet girl?”, it’s an innocent enough question but you’re walking a fine line and need to be careful. You make idle small talk about today’s class for an hour or so before asking your Professor to quiz you, it’s a shot in the dark but you’re hoping he will catch on.

“I’ve been revising, ask me any twenty questions, if I get them right you can pass me for that test!” you grin, proud of the compromise you’d come up with.

“It’s a good idea, but what if you get questions wrong? Does the fail still stand?” he laughs quietly, like he made a personal joke that only he understood, he allowed his eyes to trail down to the black floral lace encasing your chest, it wasn’t overly provocative (you were in university after all) but it was enough to make his mind wander. You test the waters again, trailing a finger over the top of the hem, outlining the soft of your breasts, Nanami shuffles in his seat and adjusts his legs, brilliant.

You allow your Professor to test you, answering all questions and waiting for each correct answer like a patient puppy, sitting for its master. At the end of the test you grin, over the moon with yourself for showing him you deserve a passing mark.

“I told you! I told you I shouldn’t have failed. You were definitely marking me too harshly!” You brush your leg against his again, and he doesn’t make an effort to move himself, he drinks you in through the round frames of his glasses that are sitting pretty on the top of his nose.

“Sweet girl, I never thought you were stupid, in fact, I think you’re rather smart. So tell me, why are you really here right now?” He sits forward in his chair and leans across his desk, towards you. Your faces are so close that you can feel his warm and tempting breath on your lips, your eyes close of their own accord and you lean in. He teases you with soft pecks and you fight back, bringing a hand to his chin but he beats you to it. Your hand completely drowned by his own, the sheer size difference a shock to your system, he holds your hand against his desk where your forgotten papers sit. With his other hand he brings his thumb just below your chin and lifts your face so your eyes can meet his, “Is this what you wanted all along? To kiss your Professor? Is this what your little get up today is about? You thought I wouldn’t notice the pretty lace? Do you know how good you look?” His rhetoric questions causing your heart to beat a hole in your chest you inhale sharply, trying to take control of your breathing once again.

“You failed me on purpose.” It’s slipped out before you have time to consider what you’re saying.

What?!

“And if I did? It’s only proved what I thought to be true all along. You’re a little degenerate, like me. I just wanted to test you, to know if you wanted what I wanted. Seems like you do, so tell me to stop and I will. Tell me you’re leaving, I’ll let you. I’m not going to force you to do anything, I respect your boundaries, and I respect that this is wrong. It just, feels so right. So deny it.”

A grown man, your professor nonetheless, sits before you in what feels like a dream, asking for you to stop this.

So stop it.

You take your free hand and pull his face into yours, you’re kissing again, this time with more desperation. It was like you were parched, and Nanami was a stream of fresh water, you couldn’t get enough, and it was like your entire life depended on it. His desk was the only thing stopping you from jumping across and allowing him to devour you whole, you thought about straddling his lap and allowing him to grab the soft fat of your ass. Not yet.

You pull away from the kiss and stand, looking at the man before you, his tie completely loose, a few strands of hair falling on his forehead allowing him to look dishevelled, his glasses slightly steamed up. He was a sight to behold and your heart was beating to within an inch of your life with the idea that you had caused it. Internally you were screaming, DON’T FUCKING STOP. But you had to, had to make sure this wouldn’t be a mistake. You leaned across the desk and picked his glasses off of his nose, placing them on your own and pulling them up, to push the hair off of your face. He looked puzzled and opened his mouth to say something but you interrupted him.

“It seems I have forgotten something, looks like I’ll have to come back to get it tomorrow, what a shame.” And with that, you shot him a grin, turned on your heels, and left. Nanami sat staring at the door in utter shock and awe as you stalked out. He quickly fixed himself up sans glasses and packed up for the day, he muttered something about teaching you a lesson, and spare frames before he left, allowing the leftover tension to dissolve.

[aetheternity]

Hard pass P4 (Levi x reader)

Synopsis: Levi is forced out of his comfy dorm room and in a strange twist of events right into your arms at a college party.

"I talked to her!" Hange announced bursting into Levi's room with a slam of the door against the wall.

Levi just rolled his eyes, twisting his body away, with a huff he crossed his arms.

"Why would you do that?" Erwin questioned

"We needed answers!"

"Please tell me you didn't say anything outright at least." He groaned, squeezing his temple.

Hange rolled her eyes. "I didn't. Geez.."

"Oh yeah? How'd you phrase it?"

"I told her I heard from Moblit that she'd kissed Jean and I was curious as to if she was planning to get back with him. It's fine I'm always in her business." Hange said with a wave of her hand.

"You're always in everyone's business but go on." Erwin replied

"I really think Levi should just go talk to her." Hange stated

"Why the hell would I do that?" Levi butted in

"Because I'm pretty sure this is all a big misunderstanding!"

"What'd she end up telling you?" Erwin questioned

"Just that Jean kissed her out of nowhere and that she wasn't expecting it. She probably didn't even like it."

"Are you just inferring that she didn't like it or did she say that?" Erwin asked

"They were kissing for at least a minute and a half.." Levi grunted

"Geez.. how long were you watching? That's kinda creepy.."

"Hange.." Erwin tried

Levi sat up, turning to face Hange who was practically pacing the room. She randomly stopped crossing her arms over her chest.

"Listen, things are only gonna get worse from here if you don't suck it up and just talk to her.. I mean things can't possibly get any worse-"

"Don't jinx it Hange." Erwin interjected

"Well how should I phrase it! Look miscommunications are the worst things to exist in any kind of relationship. If you don't talk you can't learn anything so just go out there and talk to her!"

Levi sighed rolling his eyes. His stomach boiling over with an unnecessary amount of heat.

"It's just not a good time. And this is a very delicate situation. Levi should act when he's ready."

"But-"

"Hange, we promised we'd help if he asked for it. Right now he's not asking."

With shaky fists Hange let out a screech that was practically inhumane, arms raised before her hands were coming down to scratch at her head in agitation.

"Fine whatever.." She finally agreed

Erwin reached over patting Levi's leg twice as he stood up. "We'll check in in a few hours if you don't come back downstairs, alright?"

It wasn't quite a question but Levi was still answering it with a nod. Erwin practically shoved a very disgruntled Hange out the door and it shut with a light click behind them.

And this would've been the kind of peace Levi had searched for since he'd been unceremoniously dragged on this godforsaken trip. But his brain was splattered with Y/N the image of Jean and her on the stairs replaying like a scratched record.

Levi turned over onto his back, placing his fists on his forehead. Teeth gritting as he tried and failed to calm his agitated nerves. That is until a couple knocks on the door shattered his immersion.

He turned his head in that direction. It definitely wasn't Hange or Erwin coming back. It wouldn't be so silent on the other end. Was it Y/N?

The next set of knocks were much harsher and now Levi was wrenching himself up from the bed, walking almost too fast to open the door and see-

Jean.

Jean leaning against the doorframe. Jean with his weird mullet. Tall Jean and his peach fuzz of a dammed beard.

"We need to talk." He said plainly and before Levi could ponder or execute a response Jean was pushing Levi inside shutting the door behind them.

Levi didn't speak just stared up as Jean stared back. Though Levi was surprised to see a lack of malice in his eyes.

Jean put a hand out from his crossed arms, pointing his index finger at Levi. "I know you like Y/N."

Levi felt his heart drop at her name. His pulse quickening and his blood pooling to his feet. "What?"

Jean looked Levi over again in that way Levi hated. It made his blood bubble over as if were in a pot that was close to overflowing. Like Levi was an insect Jean had stepped on but could easily flick off the bottom of his shoe.

Jean began again. "There's no point in pretending you don't. I can tell."

"And what? Did you come here to tell me to stay away?"

Jean shook his head, lips slightly curved as he spoke again. "I'm not that kind of man."

"Seems like you were before she dumped you."

A flicker of something being held back something almost violent rose in Jean's eyes but it was barely noticeable after a couple seconds a little forced chuckle falling off his lips.

"I wanted you to know.. that I want Y/N too. I love her and I want her back but I'm not gonna tell you not to pursue her. Whoever she picks is whoever she picks, now I don't know you personally but I'm hoping you're not the kind of guy to purposefully sabotage the competition." He paused stepping closer. Levi looked up to meet Jean's eyes with the same bright intensity.

"Cause then things actually will get heated."

"Why.. can't you just step aside and let her be happy with someone new?" It was a question Levi hadn't even meant to ask but before he knew it the words were out of his mouth.

Jean turned from where he'd already begun to leave. "I made a couple of mistakes while dating her. One was letting her go and two.... two was being a guy she couldn't feel safe around."

He stepped forward once more. "But I've been working to correct two, she finally feels safe around me again. I can't let her escape if I have a chance to do better. I know you probably have your own reasons for liking her."

"Y-yeah.."

Levi felt a pit begin to grow in his throat but he quickly swallowed it down. Nothing about Jean had given him even the slightest impression that he genuinely felt for Y/N..

"And now this probably sounds a bit.. commanding but don't tell anyone I came to talk to you. Connie has already started suspecting that we have some kind of beef and he's an idiot who can't keep secrets if he finds out about your feelings Y/N'll find out that same day."

With that said Levi nodded and Jean finally took his leave. Retreating while Levi stood alone at the cracked door, head pounding with protruding thoughts.

~~~~

Day three

When Levi finally came to it was pitch black in the room. His eyes strained open slowly forming a picture from pieces of darkness. A loud banging sounded not only from his chest but what he soon discovered was his room door.

With an angry grunt he slid out of bed, yanking the door so hard it slammed into the wall behind it.

"Damn someone's got bed head." Hange grinned

With a huff Levi was slamming the door forward again but unfortunately Erwin caught it and him and Hange quickly followed Levi back into the room.

"Come on Levi get up! We're going to the grocery store!" Hange yelled, jolting Levi back and forth with both hands.

"I told you he'd be asleep." Erwin said with a sigh and a small yawn. "We all should be asleep it's 1 am."

Fucking-" Levi turned over "One in the morning? Go fuck yourself please." He yanked one of the pillows from the head of the bed over his face.

Hange sighed, "I can't do it twice in one night. That's overkill."

Erwin pulled a face but chose to move past it. "Jean was in here earlier. Well.. yesterday. What did he say to you?"

"Wait! He was?!" Hange yelped

"How do you even know that?" Levi asked

"I saw him being weird in the halls and then I saw him enter your room so what did he say?"

"You're starting to become as annoying as Hange when it comes to gossip."

"What'd he say dammit!" Hange practically shouted.

A couple of soft knocks distracted them and they all turned. "Guys we're leaving in a couple minutes hurry and come downstairs." Y/N called

Hearing her voice no matter how many times set a flame in Levi's stomach with enough intensity to keep a neighborhood warm for the winter. Simultaneously coupling it with a frigid intensity akin to a blizzard that froze everything in the first place. An icy chill through his veins.

"Tell us!" Hange demanded

"I'm going right back to sleep so get out." Levi replied, tossing the pillow at Hange's head.

Erwin rolled his eyes. "Well, I guess Jean will get yet another chance to show you up."

Hange joined with a laugh. "Levi makes it so easy at this point."

Levi muttered a curse, quickly slipping his discarded jacket from earlier over his shoulders along with his coat, gloves, hat, scarf and a couple hand warmers slipped into his empty pockets. He reached for his phone adding the device to the list of things in his pocket.

"What the hell are we buying at 1am?"

Surprisingly the car ride had been quieter than Levi expected. Connie giving Jean directions, Sasha stuffing her face with who knows what, Hange and Moblit talking, Erwin listening to another podcast through his earbuds and Levi sat right next to Y/N.

They'd only talked briefly conversated thanks to Levi's impressively bad wording of things and his terrible stuttering which only seemed to get worse now that it was so late.

Jean had barely parked the car before Connie and Sasha pilied out with Hange behind them. Hange had only a thin hoodie on which was pretty irresponsible even for her.

"Where's your coat, Hange?" Moblit asked, slipping his coat off his shoulders.

"Huh?? Oh!" Hange immediately laughed "Must have left it back at the lodge."

Levi squinted at the two in the fairly darkened parking lot. Connie and Sasha had run up ahead and Moblit and Hange were talking amongst themselves. She was being weird even for her. Playfully nudging her shoulder with his and whipping her hair a lot.

"That's interesting." Y/N was surprisingly watching too. Her smile downright mischievous as she made eye contact with Levi. "What'd you think they're saying?"

"I-uh.."

"Ok, so they do have marshmallows here." Jean approached from behind forcing Levi's soul to ascend though he tried not to outwardly flinch.

"Oh good!" Y/N replied turning back to Levi. "We wanted to make s'mores. Or well Sasha had the idea and we all just agreed to it."

It was a split second. Almost unnoticeable the way it flashed away, Jean's eyes slightly darker with the way they flicked over to Levi past Y/N's shoulder.

"Oh you know what I also want!" She turned to Jean breaking the little gaze between them.

"Hmm?"

"Milk!"

"Don't worry, I'll pay so get some snacks while we're here." Jean replied, his hand came up to Y/N's lower back giving her a gentle pat. To Levi's own irritation she stepped a little closer in their stride.

"Sasha will definitely eat anything I get." She continued the conversation.

Jean shook his head. "Don't worry, I'll hide some in my room and you can come get them whenever you're hungry. Whether it's afternoon or midnight."

"You're so sweet."

In the bright light stretching over the dark ground Levi could see Erwin almost at the entrance to the store. Just narrowly avoiding Connie and Sasha speeding past. Sasha with her legs kicking up in the cart loudly whooping and Connie pushing the thing at an alarming speed through the automatic doors.

"Shit." Jean growled quickly running to catch the two.

Levi quickly caught up with Erwin almost pushing him aside as he joined his stride. Erwin threw a glance over his shoulder. "Ok Levi, I know you're not good at this yet but.. she's alone. Why don't you take the opportunity?"

Levi let out an irritated huff. "We have nothing to talk about."

"Excuses."

"Huh?"

"I didn't stutter Levi."

The two of them walked side by side. Levi with both his hands in his pockets and Erwin holding his phone in one hand, while the other pulled his headphones off his ears.

"Do you need anything here?" Erwin asked

"It'd be nice to get some beef.."

"Beef?"

"I want stew.." Levi responded with a small hum of weariness.

"Why don't you get beef stew in a can so you don't have to spend time cooking?"

"I like cooking."

Erwin threw his hands up in mock defeat. "Hey, did you see where Hange disappeared to?"

"Tch why would I be paying attention to that?"

Levi paused staring up at the top shelf before immediately making eye contact with Erwin. Erwin chuckled lowly, "What do you need?"

"Red wine."

"Oh wait I can get it for you." Y/N marched over. "Which brand?"

"W-well.. doesn't m-matter y-you pick." Levi inwardly groaned, kicking his foot back and forth.

Erwin gave a quick thumbs up that Y/N fortunately couldn't see before rushing off. Levi stood up straighter as Y/N handed him the bottle.

She let out a playful exhale. "Phew, Levi I didn't know you drink." She pointed to it. "Try not to get too tipsy it'd suck if you didn't remember how much fun you had on this trip."

"N.." Levi looked down at the bottle suddenly very conscious of his sweaty palms. "No, n-no I don't.. well.. it's for stew."

Y/N immediately nodded. "Sorry to assume." She smiled her own cheeks beginning to look flushed. Or maybe it was just Levi being hopeful. "Maybe we should go get a basket? Cause I don't think we're gonna see Connie and the cart till after we check out."

"Ok.."

Levi was glad to feel the overly anxious sparks dying down. The basket about semi full. For whatever reason no matter what aisle they went down it was just the two of them in this big store. And as much as Levi definitely should've felt more concern he was also half hoping everyone had left them.

"Should we go look for everyone?"

No.

Y/N pointed down another empty aisle with her thumb. She pulled out her phone, scrolling over the screen. "I mean, Jean, Sasha or Connie would've definitely called me before leaving the store so I doubt they did." She brushed a thumb over her lips.

"I'm sure they're fine.." Levi replied, though he was a bit concerned that she hadn't heard him when she didn't reply for about a minute.

"Oh! Milk that's what else I came for!" She said, pushing her phone back into her pocket. "Do you need anything else?"

Levi stared into the basket, pushing aside and removing one item to look under. "No."

"By the way when that beef stew is ready you'll let me taste right?"

Levi could only nod and then be quickly led through a couple more aisles quickly turning into the dairy section. It was noticeably colder here. Tubs filled with frozen pizza lining the center of the aisles with big fridges against the walls.

Y/N quickly grabbed the milk holding it against her chest. "Ok, now we can go find the others." She chuckled

Levi quickly grabbed the milk from her grasp, placing it in the basket. "What a gentleman." She said, her remark innocent as it may have been caused heat to flow through Levi's body like he'd been stuffed in a furnace.

"Oh.." She stopped

"Huh?"

"This song! Oh! Come here Levi!"

Levi hadn't once paid attention to the music since they'd walked into the store. He didn't think he ever did but now that he was listening he immediately recognized it, though from where he had no clue? It sounded slow, not too slow to the point where it was boring but gentle and easy going almost.

"This is my favorite song! Come here."

"Wh-what're you?" His stupid voice cracked as Y/N pulled him in closer.

"Do you know how to dance?" Her breath flushed over Levi's cheeks. Sweet like sugar cookies was the first thought in Levi's mind.

"N-no."

"I need you to dance with me here though." She almost whined in her mild neediness. "Hmm I'll teach you."

Her fingers sifted perfectly into Levi's right hand. Other arm snaking its way under Levi's left arm to place his hand on her waist. And if he could catch fire and melt into the floor he probably would've by now.

"Follow my lead." Her voice was calm and soft. "Just shift your weight between your feet."

And Levi tried his best but he was stepping on her feet within the first minute. Surprisingly though she just giggled. "Don't move your feet ok. We can go the easy route."

Her arm outstretched itself on Levi's back, hands squeezing his as they swayed and rocked gently to the music blasting over the speakers.

"Much better right?"

Their bodies were pressed into each other like a perfect mold. Puzzle pieces slotting together in a empty dairy aisle at too early of an hour. This was the first time Levi was really able to look into her eyes. The color dazzling in an almost blinding way but he didn't look away.

No matter how scared that gaze made him feel it was in a good way. It was a perfect, warm, dangerous and relaxing combination.

The smile on her face had gradually faded but she kept her softened features. Lips slightly parted as the two of them continued to sway. She leaned in almost impossibly closer and Levi's heart was banging on his rib cage.

"Here comes the dip." She let out a breathy giggle as she slowly dipped Levi back. His hair flopping back from his face, everything turned upside down for just a few seconds before he was getting lifted close again. Right back into her arms.

So close. So perfect..

"You're such a fast learner." She said, continuing to rock him.

He kept up with the pace. Uttering a small thank you. He wanted to compliment her back but his brain refused to give him the words to do so and his throat refused him the saliva neccessary to make proper conversation.

"At some point we have to try this again, you know during a normal hour and in a different place."

"Y-yeah.."

The two of them once again fell silent and when the music stopped they were still standing together. Minus the hip swaying and the gentle dip. It was just..

It was almost quiet. Every noise that had once filled the supermarket seemed to leave along with Levi's fears. All of it exiting his body at once. He was standing here, holding the girl he liked in his arms, partially in her arms with their fingers intertwined.

Which.. speaking of intertwined fingers she was currently tugging at his. Their arms came down together and Levi let out a strained breath he hadn't even realized he'd held in.

"Levi.. I think I should tell you something."

Her face fell stern almost and Levi watched the quick movement of her throat as she swallowed.

"So.. in the store huh?"

"Huh!" Y/N stood taller, ripping herself unceremoniously from Levi. "Jean!" She chuckled nervously.

Jean let out his own little chuckle. "I know I never used to dance with you in the store. Glad you've got someone who would."

Y/N's eyes looked ready to pop from her skull and roll off. "I-I uh.. Jean it's.."

"Come, Connie and the others are already at checkout.

Y/N turned back to look at Levi as she quickly walked to follow Jean. And Levi could hear his teeth groan under the slight grit he administered. He yanked the basket up almost too fast storming after them with a grunt.

Jean had managed to cut the time to the line down by cutting across the aisles. That and he wasn't walking ridiculously slow with Y/N like some kind of old married couple.. Now that the image was place Levi actually began to wonder if that was how they looked together..

"Oi, how many times do I have to tell you to get out of the cart?" Jean asked as they finally joined everyone.

Sasha was a giggling mess inside the cart as Connie "unintentionally" tickled her stomach as he worked to remove items and place them on the conveyer belt.

"She can't right now or she'll crush some of the stuff." Connie replied

"She shouldn't have climbed in, in the first place." Y/N chimed in. "You know the way Connie pushes this thing is a hazard."

Sasha just let her head fall back in a fit of laughter as if that were the funniest thing she'd heard all year.

Y/N sighed quickly moving to help Connie as Jean moved past the three of them to the register.

"So how'd it go?" Erwin asked with a nudge as Levi lifted the basket up onto the edge of the conveyer belt.

"Jean interrupted us again."

"He's persistent." Erwin acknowledged "But then again I don't even know if he has to try, she seems kinda drawn to him on her own."

Levi watched as Jean and Y/N playfully fussed over the food sliding its way towards them. Their barely audible conversation including small remarks about the price and how they had definitely gone over the amount they had wanted to pay but Jean didn't let up.

"By the way where's Hange? And Moblit? I haven't seen them since we entered the store.."

Y/N was grabbing Jean's shoulder slightly rougher at this point her eyes rolling, teeth gritting together but she couldn't hide her smile. And Jean was still doing that thing that made Levi wanna shove him into on coming traffic.

His hand rested splayed on Y/N's lower back. And Levi had missed most of the conversation as it droned on lowly under the music blasting through empty aisles but this part actually struck him.

"You guys make a cute couple." The woman behind the counter laughed.

"See? She thinks we're cute." Jean took the opportunity as if it'd flung itself into his arms. Problem was it had. He pressed Y/N closer to him.

Though.. oddly enough Y/N only grinned, patting Jean's chest as he spoke with the cashier. Though.. her eyes trailed away and her smile was quickly fading. And Levi could see an opening.

He was moving faster than his brain could access the situation. "Y/N, I'll buy your milk for you." He managed, honestly proud of himself.

"Oh that's yours?" Jean asked suddenly snapped out from the conversation he'd been engrossed in. "It's cool Levi I got it."

"You've got everything else, let me." Levi replied

All the other groceries had already been piled at the end of the conveyer belt and Connie and Sasha were stuffing it back into the cart. Completely unaware of the current stare down that was happening right in front of them.

"Levi, I insist it's cool I have enough money." Jean retorted

"I already said I'd pay for it."

"You have your own groceries let me worry about the milk."

At this point Jean reached over but Levi was quicker snatching the milk off his basket and holding it to his chest like a newborn baby.

"Jean, just let him pay.." Y/N said

"I had already said I'd pay for you."

"Don't start this right now. Just let him pay for it so we can go."

At some point Moblit and Hange had rejoined the group and everyone was staring at the scene before them. Connie and Sasha with their hands deep in the chips Jean had paid for eyes wide with attention. Levi just looking to Y/N who was shaking her leg, arms crossed and hand on her forehead.

The cashier returned Jean's card and he almost snatched it away. "I'll pull the car up." He simply said

Y/N squeezed the bridge of her nose with her thumb and index finger and everyone stared in awe, Jean's figure retreating to the parking lot as Levi slowly placed his own basket of food onto the conveyer belt.

He felt Erwin brush a hand over his shoulder before giving him a look. He approached Y/N as if she were a rabid dog on a leash. His fingers clenching as he inched his hand closer until it was rubbing her arm.

His gaze fell away, "A-are you.. ok?"

Her lips twitched at the corners and she returned Levi's affectionate grasp. Squeezing his shoulder with one hand. "Don't worry too much about me." She replied

Though the statement didn't help at all.

The walk to the car was surprisingly slow and awkwardly silent. Connie pushing Sasha along as she practically inhaled another bag of chips. Hange and Moblit matching pace with each other with barely enough space between them to fit a piece of paper from the look of it. And Erwin back on his phone.

"Thanks." Y/N said suddenly and Levi stared up at her in confusion. She glanced over and a small huff of a laugh fell from her lips. "Dancing with me." She elaborated

"O-oh! No problem.."

When they got to the car Levi held the door open for Y/N and she slid inside with a smile patting the seat next to her. Which Levi quickly took. The rest of the seats filled in fast with Connie being the last one in after he'd shoved the food into the back.

"Buckle up." Jean grunted, he snuck a gaze into the rearview mirror that Levi almost smirked at.

Y/N's little yawn didn't go unnoticed and it was even harder not to notice the way she leaned into Levi's shoulder. Her hair tickling his skin and making the entire car impossibly hotter.

"I hope you don't mind." She muttered so only Levi could hear. "I just find you kind of comforting."

(Hey Siri, play Sweet by Cigarettes after sex)

[forthiswholeworld]

for @cursed-or-not because we’re thriving on each other’s clownery (page break bc this got Too Long to inflict on unsuspecting dashes) 

They’ve had Cas back for four days when Dean realizes something is wrong.

For a paralyzing moment, he stumbles on the thought, feels the fear of it choking him as he freezes in the doorway with a mug of coffee in his hand. He watches Cas blink dazedly at Sam’s debriefing on the rugaru in San Antonio and wills himself forward, wills his mind not to go straight to darkness and loss and cosmic consequences. Cas flashes a ragged smile as Dean sets the mug in front of him, and it occurs to Dean that maybe this is less about cosmic consequences than it is humanity. 

Now that Dean thinks about it, he can see it: the circles under his eyes, the weary slope of his back-- the things Dean had attributed to resurrection rather than humanity. 

Cas is human, though, and Dean thinks he needs to remember that before he remembers that he was gone. 

Cas needs food and laundry detergent and coffee and sleep, and now that he thinks about it Dean is absolutely sure he hasn’t seen Cas touch his bed since he got back. 

He doesn’t bring it up; they’ve been here before. They’ve come back and kept secrets and spent sleepless nights trying to fix things before, and heart-to-hearts have never gotten them anywhere. 

Instead, Dean drinks three pots of coffee and waits.

It’s 2:07 AM when he hears the echo of footsteps in the hallway. He swings open the door and tries to look like he hasn’t been waiting in ambush as Cas freezes.

“Dean,” he says, voice rough and a little frantic, and Dean is reminded of the days he’d wake up to Cas blithely watching him from the foot of his bed. (The days when Heaven filled the space between them and Dean didn't understand the difference between being a human and being human.) 

He watches Cas’ eyes flit away from his gaze and smiles brazenly. “Trouble sleeping?” 

Cas shifts on his feet. “No,” he says like he’s not the worst liar in the entire multiverse.

Dean holds his gaze for another beat before breathing a sigh. “Cas.” He settles back against the doorframe to scrutinize him. “What’s up?” 

Cas swallows. His eyes trace a scuff on the floor. “It gets so quiet here at night,” he mutters, and Dean understands.

He works his jaw as he realizes. He thinks he should’ve recognized the signs. He should’ve seen the tired eyes and haunted glances and known then, because Dean doesn’t know what it’s like to come back from nothingness, but he knows what it’s like to close his eyes and see hell.

He watches Cas’s gaze flit from the floor to the wall behind him and settle just above Dean’s left shoulder, and he’s not consciously aware of deciding anything but he’s inhaling to say something, and he guesses it better be good because there’s not a whole lot he can say to heal emptiness. 

“Sleep in my room,” he says, and he’s not sure which of them it surprises more.

“Dean—” Cas starts, and Dean knows he’s going to refuse, but there’s a millisecond where his gaze catches on Cas’s and there’s something heavy in the space between them, and Dean knows what it is but he’s always refused to put a name to it.

Cas swallows as he looks away. “As long as you don’t mind,” he says, and Dean also tears his gaze away before he can do something dumb like consider the vulnerability of it. 

“Come on then,” he mutters as he heads back into his room. “You can take the bed.”

“Dean—” Cas protests like Dean knew he would, and Dean narrowly avoids rolling his eyes.

“We’ll both take it then,” he says before he can ponder the sheer idiocy of it. 

Cas hesitates beside the bed, but Dean thinks he must be either too tired or too apathetic to argue, because he swallows and steps forward. 

Cas is careful as he pulls back the comforter and settles in; he’s careful not to take too much blanket or too much space, and they both lie stiffly on their respective sides of the bed until Dean decides he can’t take it anymore and clears his throat a little obnoxiously. He hears Cas huff a laugh. 

“You said it was too quiet,” Dean says softly, and he’s grateful for the darkness because he thinks he’s wearing a damningly fond expression. 

He thinks he feels Cas relax as he mutters, “that’s on me, then.” 

The stillness doesn’t feel so stifling after that, and he hears Cas’s breathing start to even out. 

He can feel the thrum of caffeine in his veins as he watches the ceiling. Even in the dark, he can see the outline of the ceiling fan, the trimming on the wall, the chair in the corner. He can hear Cas’s breathing, feel the warmth in the space between them, and he realizes he has no idea what emptiness is. He wonders how long it’s been since Cas closed his eyes without seeing it. 

He lies awake for the next three hours, but the rise and fall of Cas’s chest is steady and even beside him, so the caffeine overdose is a small price to pay. There are no windows in his room, but if there were he’d be able to see the first hazy traces of sunrise filtering in by the time he starts to drift off. 

Cas is gone when he wakes up. 

He staggers out of his room just before noon, and Cas doesn’t quite meet his eye as he wordlessly hands him a plate of pancakes, courtesy of Sam and Eileen, but Dean thinks the circles under his eyes look a little less absurd, and it’s enough. 

The next night, Dean leaves his door open. 

He isn’t sure what he’s expecting, but 11:00 rolls around and he’s just getting ready to turn out the lights when he hears a tentative knock at the doorframe. He looks up to see Cas in the doorway. 

“I couldn’t sleep,” Cas mumbles, and something about his awkward stance and fragile uncertainty makes Dean’s chest ache. 

He thinks this is where he becomes brash; this is where he scoffs a laugh and brushes off this heaviness like neither of their shoulders are bowed under the weight of what-ifs. This is where he flees back to the safe side of the lines they’ve drawn. 

He swallows. “You wanna come in?” 

Cas stills. “I--” his eyes flit to Dean and then away in a millisecond. “No. I just--” 

“Cas,” Dean interrupts, and he guesses he’s being reckless instead of brash and can’t say whether it’s for the best but he can feel the thrill of it in his veins. “Get in here.” 

Cas watches him for half a beat, probably just as surprised as Dean is that he’s managed not to be a defensive asshole about this, and then he swallows. “Thank you.” 

Dean thinks he absolutely doesn’t deserve a thank you, but Cas shuffles in and hesitates at the side of the bed and before he can say as much he’s pulling the comforter aside to make room. 

Dean falls asleep earlier tonight; he thinks it has something to do with not being hyped up on three pots of coffee and the thrill of reckless, stupid ideas. He’s not sure when Cas nodded off, but he wakes up at 3:42 to the sound of gasping, panicked breathing. 

“Cas?” He asks with a sleep-worn voice but he’s halfway across the bed, reaching for Cas’s shoulder before he can get a response or take half a second to consider how horrible an idea this is. 

“Dean,” Cas breathes, and Dean isn’t sure if it’s a question or an answer or a prayer but Cas’s breath mingles with his as he says it and something in the fragile space between them finally shatters as Cas leans into the touch. 

Dean pulls him into his chest, holds him there and tries not to let the ache of it convince him he’s going to regret this.

Cas clutches the back of Dean’s shirt like it’s all that’s keeping him tethered to this world where things are allowed to make noise and wake up and see light, and Dean rests his palms against Cas’s shoulders and wishes he had the words to promise he’s holding on just as tight. 

Dean isn’t sure how long it is, whether it’s two minutes or three hours or an eternity, but Cas’s grip on his shirt loosens, and he breathes less stuttered exhales, and he rests his chin somewhere in the crook of Dean’s shoulder and closes his eyes. 

Dean leans slowly back against the headrest and thinks he’s never been very good at this. 

The intimacy of it is familiar—the weight of an arm over his stomach, the heady tangle of limbs, the needy warmth— that’s always come naturally to him. It’s the tenderness that gets him. It’s the brush of Cas’ breath against his neck, the softness of ten years of fear and loss and a word that Dean can’t say as easily as he should. It’s the ache where the rhythm of his pulse screams something between I want this forever and I’m so afraid.  

Cas is gone when he wakes up. 

Cas is gone, and Dean’s arm is stiff and he wonders if it will ever be enough just to hold an angel haunted by empty nights. 

That night, he tells himself he isn't waiting for the knock. 

He tells himself he’s not waiting, but he hears the shuffle of bare feet in the hall and a single rap at the door and a millisecond later he’s swinging it open. 

Tonight, there’s no apologetic hesitance or fumbling for words.

There’s Cas, standing plainly in the doorway and there’s Dean, dropping his hand from the doorknob and standing too close. There’s the tilt of Cas’s head as he searches Dean’s face for something Dean knows with terrified certainty he’ll find, and there’s Dean’s gaze flitting to his mouth for a stupid, breathless moment. There’s the part of Cas’s lips and the desperate beating of Dean’s heart, the distant electric buzz of the lights and the hitch of his breath as Cas leans forward—

There’s the cluttered breath and scrape of teeth as their mouths crash together.

His lungs stutter on the drag of stubble and chapped lips and tired warmth, and because he never thought he’d be allowed to, he pulls Cas in, clutches the front of his shirt and crowds him up against the doorway until they’re pressed together and they can both feel the desperate rhythm of his pulse. Cas’s fingers ghost over his jaw and something in Dean is absolutely dizzy with the realness of it. 

He doesn’t know how long it is before Cas breaks away but he feels ready to shatter. 

“I couldn’t sleep,” Cas says, and Dean breathes a ragged laugh into his shoulder. 

There are still things he can’t say, words that form in his chest sit and like a lump in his throat and will probably stay unsaid for just a little while longer, but he lets his arms circle Cas’ waist and murmurs “sleep in here, then,” and he has to bury his face in the crook of Cas’ neck to hide a stupidly fond smile.  

Cas breathes a soft “thank you” against his temple as Dean pulls him toward the bed, and Dean can hear the worn tiredness in his voice and thinks that might be all there is for a while but for the first time in their lives they have time, and it’s enough. 

It’s enough, he thinks, and he pulls Cas against his chest and holds onto him until there’s no empty space between them. 

[thatbassistbitch]

Could you write Wilbur and Tommy being bros? :0

sure thing!

“Hey Wil?” Tommy spoke up after Wilbur fumbled through a half-baked chord progression for the third time in the past two minutes. “What’s that song you’re playing?” Wilbur looked up through his messy bangs, squinting in the golden light of the sunset.



 “I dunno yet, it keeps eluding me.” Wil grumbled as he set aside his guitar for a moment with a huff. Despite his annoyance, he was still very careful with its placement before he flopped onto his back, letting out a groan as his back muscles relaxed. Tommy snickered at that, knowing that Phil would admonish him for his shitty posture if he’d seen how Wilbur had been curled up around his guitar for hours again.



 “Eluding you, eh?” Tommy laid down next to him, staring up at the rosy clouds. They took on a golden edge as the sun slowly sank lower and lower, as if they were on fire. Tommy wondered if that was what Wilbur was writing a song about, or if it was yet another pretty girl he’d seen by the docks. Or perhaps it was one of those parody songs he was so fond of, making fun of men who feel entitled to women’s affections. Whatever it was, Wilbur was quite stumped.



“It’s always right at my fingertips,” Wilbur complained as he reached to the sky for emphasis, “right on the tip of my tongue, and yet always just out of reach. It’s maddening. I’m going mad, Toms.” Wilbur let his hands fall to the ground with a soft thump. “I can feel my brain leaking out of my ears.”



“You’d have to have a brain for that to happen, Wil,” Tommy joked as he nudged the man with his elbow. Wilbur rolled his eyes and nudged him back. “I think you’ll get it, though. You always do, in the end.” Wilbur shrugged and reached to his left, absently plucking one of the strings. G, Tommy recognized. His favorite string. Mostly because it was funny to say g-string, and not at all because it was the first note of a particularly angsty song that he refused to mention.



“I know, I know. It’s just frustrating, that’s all.” Wilbur grabbed his guitar again and pulled it close, not bothering to sit up before he started playing again. He fretted the chords with precision, as always, but once again faltered while transitioning from one verse to the next. He huffed before starting again.



“What’s it about?” Tommy rolled onto his side, propped up on his elbow as he watched with interest. He loved watching Wilbur play. What the man couldn’t put into words, he could put into song like no other. Wilbur petered off into an arpeggio and tilted his head to the side.



“Freedom,” he replied plainly. Freedom? Tommy was puzzled.



 “What do you mean?” He asked. Wilbur’s fingers flew across the fretboard with ease before stuttering back into chords, once again throwing him off as he hit the wrong notes.The man paused, then began playing scales instead.



 “Don’t you ever feel like there’s more out there, Tommy?” Wilbur’s voice was soft, as soft as the grass underneath them, as soft as the melting clouds overhead. “There’s people, Tommy. So many people, all with their own stories to tell. I’ve seen you at the docks, staring at the ocean just like I do. Don’t you want to see it?” Tommy went silent as he listened. Wilbur’s eyes burned with curiosity, with intensity. He was right. Tommy did want to know. But it wasn’t as if he could find out. He was just some kid. No family, no home, he only had a roof over his head because Wilbur happened to find his attempts at stealing from him amusing. But he did want to see where this was going.



“What do you think is out there, Wil?” Tommy asked quietly. They were both sitting up now, and Tommy leaned in closer. He felt like a little kid again, listening to Wilbur’s wild stories or Technoblade’s myths. Wilbur grinned and reached into his coat pocket to pull out a map.



“I’ve heard stories of a land a bit far from here, across the ocean. They call it Dream SMP. It’s supposed to have great opportunities, and there’s still many discoveries to be made. A new civilization, Toms. Picture it! We could go there, we could start new lives. We can be whoever and whatever we want!” Wilbur poked the map with vigor. “I’m going there, Tommy. And I wanna take you with me.” Tommy’s eyes widened.



“Me? Wh-why?! There’s so many other people far more qualified, and I-I mean I’m not exactly a skilled fighter, I can build pretty well with cobblestone- stop laughing- but I’m not…I mean,” Tommy trailed off with a stutter. Him? He’s just some kid. Sure, he saw Wilbur as an older brother of sorts, but still. Surely Wil was joking, right?



 “Why not you?” Wilbur retorted. “You’re as good as any other, aren’t you? Big man Tommy Innit, Big T, lover of women and cobblestone, but mostly cobblestone. Why wouldn’t I want to take you?” He ruffled Tommy’s fluffy blond hair, much to Tommy’s chagrin. He shoved the man off with a huff.



 “But how will we get there? Who’s to say they’ll even let us in? What about the expenses? I’m broke as shit, Wilbur, and you’re not much better off.” Tommy pointed out, still skeptical of all of this. Wilbur shrugged casually and folded up the map, sticking it back in his pocket before picking up the guitar again.



“Just leave all that to me. What have you got to keep you here, anyway? What have you got to lose?” Wilbur launched into a different song, his fingers once again flying across the fretboard with precision and familiarity. Tommy opened his mouth, then closed it. Wilbur had him there. What did he have? Not much. Well, there was one thing…



“Can we take Tubbo?” Tommy picked at the grass. He couldn’t leave his best friend behind. Wilbur didn’t stop playing, didn’t seem even remotely surprised.



 “Of course. Wouldn’t wanna separate you two. You’re known as the clingy duo for a reason,” the musician teased gently. He narrowly avoided a rock that Tommy tossed at him.



 “Sod off,” Tommy grumbled. “Go back to the other song. I liked it better.” Wilbur nodded and complied, and this time, the chords flowed freely with an air of intrigue and confidence.

“So, what’ll it be?” Wilbur asked. Tommy tilted his head back, watching the sun disappear behind the horizon. Stars began to twinkle overhead, their shapes rousing memories of swords and armor, furs and fireplaces, parchment and a low monotone voice. 

 “Where you go, I’ll follow,” Tommy answered. “But this better not come back to bite us in the arse.” Wilbur barked a laugh, pausing his playing for a moment to clap Tommy on the back.



 “That’s what I like to hear. We’ll head to the market tomorrow and get supplies. Don’t worry about the funds, I’ll take care of that. Hope you’ve got sea legs, Toms.” And with that, Wilbur resumed playing once more, and the two lads quietly listened to the sweet music that filled the air, illuminated by the distant torches on Phil’s lawn and the light of the moon. What will the stars look like in this new land? Will the air taste different? Is the grass softer, a different shade of green? And what of the animals? Thoughts of adventure and discovery filled his head as he began to drift off and lean against Wilbur.



“Y’know, I reckon we’re like brothers,” Tommy yawned. Wilbur smiled and shifted his position slightly to allow Tommy to lean further.



“Tommy, I’ve told you this before. Say that again and I will cry,” he joked. Then after a brief moment, he pondered aloud. “Actually, what if we told them you’re my little brother? It’d be a lot easier than explaining why I took in some gremlin gutter child who tried to mug me with a stick.” Tommy snorted.



“It was a sharp stick,” he muttered sleepily. “I coulda got you.” A hand ruffled his hair as he shut his eyes.



“Yeah, I reckon you could’ve.” Despite his sudden exhaustion, Tommy felt himself smiling at the tone of Wilbur’s voice. Maybe he did have family after all, even if it was just one person.

[amphxtrite]

ron weasley x fem!reader

warnings: swearing, pinning, mentions of eating.

summary: after a bad breakup, ron’s eyes open to the realization it wasn’t meant to be, instead seeing you as the one for him.

a/n: thank you to my darling @amourtentiaa for giving me this idea to write!!

word count: 3.2k

enjoy <3

__________________________________________

Nightly prefect duties seemed to always have you wandering the Hogwarts halls in search of meddling first years and giggling fifths, and tonight was no exception.

The only sound heard is the shuffle of your feet against stone and your light humming as the cool night air hits your face in a cool breeze. You round the corner to the gryffindor common room, where a soft, muffled sob catches your attention.

You frown, who was up at this hour crying?

You pull your cloak closer to your body and sigh, but another voice catches your ear.

“Ron, it’ll be alright, p-please.”

Harry. Your eyes widen and after whispering the password Ron had given to you, you quietly enter and glance around the room of red and gold.

You were right, Ron and Harry sat by the fireplace, Harry in his pajamas, and Ron with a blanket wrapped around his shoulder.

“Ron? Harry? What’s going on, it’s midnight-.” Your sentence is cut short as Ron swivels his face to reveal his puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks.

“Oh my goodness Ron. What happened?” You exclaim, rushing to the boy’s side.

“y/n.” Ron sniffles, quickly wiping his eyes and managing a weak smile.

“D-Don’t worry about me, j-just allergies.” Ron chuckles nervously, glancing at Harry for help.

“Ronald Weasley, I’ve known you since we were six, I know when you’re upset.” You sigh, wrapping your arms around the sniffling redhead.

“Go get some rest Harry, I’ll look after him.” You state smiling, waving the yawning brunette back up the stairs to the boy’s dormitory.

“Now, mind telling me what’s got you down Ronnie?” You murmur, smiling softly at the nickname Molly had given her son.

Ron rolls his eyes lightly with a small grin as a small tear rolls down his cheek.

“I know we weren’t together for long, b-but I thought me and Hermione were gonna work.” Ron sighs, shuffling himself so he’s sitting against the couch and facing the crackling fire. The flames dance in his deep blue eyes as he holds his head in his palms.

“And then she told me she wasn’t ready. And I know I can’t be mad or upset about that, but still.” Ron mumbles, crossing his arms.

“Hey, come here.” You sigh, opening your arms and bringing the redhead close to you.

“We’re still rather young Ronnie, Hermione doesn’t have to be with you now in order to be with you forever.” You note, tapping the finger on his freckled nose.

“You have a point.”

“Exactly, there’s no reason for my best friend to cry, now come on, how does hot cocoa sound?” You smirk, watching as Ron’s eyes widen and his lips pull up.

“Sounds perfect.”

The two of you sneak your way down to the kitchens, being wary of every creak in the wall or soft meow of a cat. You reach your destination and as you finally enter the kitchens, you burst into a fit of giggles.

As you begin warming some milk on the stove, Ron grabs some leftover pastries lying on the tables from dinner that day.

He begins nibbling on a tart, but he gets sidetracked when his ears prick up at the sound of your voice humming as you stir your sweet concoction, and an unconscious grin makes its way onto his face.

He turns and returns to his spot at your side as he holds your favourite dessert by your lips for you to take.

You hum in thanks and take a bite, letting the sweet flavours warm your body up. Ron chuckles as your hips begin to sway a bit as you hum, and he joins you in a light dance before you pour the steaming liquid into mugs and sit at a large wooden table.

“Amazing as always y/n.” Ron compliments, taking a long sip of his hot chocolate.

“Oh you flatter me Ronnie.” You giggle.

Ron brings his mug down from his lip to make a witty remark, but instead his voice catches in his throat.

You were turned and facing the fire, the dancing flames illuminating your face in a soft orange glow as your lips curved into a gentle smile. Ron can feel his face go as bright as the fire, and he quickly lifts the mug back to his face to conceal it.

“So… Are you feeling any better?” You smile, turning back to the redhead.

“Oh. M-Much better, thank you y/n.” Ron stumbles, slapping a smile on his face and chuckling nervously.

“I’m glad, here I’ll take the mugs back.”

Ron nods as you take the cup from his hand and walk back over to the kitchen counter, using your wand to quickly clean them before placing them back in a cupboard.

A light, warm feeling engulfs the gryffindor’s chest as he watches you, mesmerized by your every move. Thoughts of a future where you do the same in his arms flash before him, leaving him with a soft smirk and rosy cheeks as his eyebrows furrow.

He just got out of a relationship with Hermione, he shouldn’t be feeling these emotions so soon, and for one of his best friends? This couldn’t be right.

“Hey Ron, I found some chocolate stashed away here, do you want some?”

“I-I’m alright y/n.” He murmurs, a stupid grin widening on his lips.

Oh bloody hell, maybe he did fancy you.

With his face surely the same colour as his hair, he turns so he’s facing the other direction. It definitely wasn’t normal to have fantasies of your best friend in your arms while you swayed in your kitchen, but he might be mistaken! He couldn’t possibly be in love with his smart, sarcastic, caring and absolutely beautiful best friend!

Ron sighs in exasperation and rubs runs a hand through his hair, letting a small sigh pass his lips.

“H-Hey y/n?”

“What’s up?”

“I-I’ve got a question.” He states plainly, no going back now.

“Go on, Ronnie.” Your voice chimes unknowingly.

The redhead takes a deep breath and smiles a little at the way you say his name.

“Have you ever thought about us? Like what we could be?” Ron stammers, swallowing his fear.

Your eyes widen and you turn.

“I-I’m sorry, what do you mean by us?” You question cautiously, walking back towards Ron.

“Well you know. A relationship, you and me.” Ron explains further, turning back around to face you.

You search his eyes. Looking for any shred of amusement, but you find none.

“Y-You’re joking right?” You question, letting out a chuckle laced with disbelief.

“Well-”

“Ron, you’re my best friend, I don’t think we could… Work.” You answer swiftly, motioning between the two of you.

“Oh, I-I understand, I was just curious you know?” Ron smiles, awkwardly clearing his throat.

“Of course! I understand, um- goodnight!” You nod, retreating back out the kitchen’s secret entrance, your blood rushing to your ears as your heart beats a million miles a minute.

You step back out into the familiar walls, your feet rushing you back to the y/h common room, you run up the stairs to your dorm. Quickly pulling off your cloak you sit down in the dark room and hold your head in your hands.

Similarly in the gryffindor common room, Ron sits recounting the night’s activity to Harry.

“Weren’t you just upset about Mione half an hour ago mate? What’s gotten into you?”

Ron sighs, burying himself into his mattress as he attempts to drown in his pillow.

“Well?” Harry questions.

“I-I don’t know, okay! It just slipped out. Merlin I’m an idiot.” Ron groans, shooting up into a sitting position and holding his face in his hands.

“And Hermione?”

“Harry, think! Mione and I weren’t going to work no matter how hard I crushed on her.” Ron sighs. “But y/n. She’s been there for me since we were kids, she’s always been there for me, I’ve just been too much of a twat to notice.” Ron grimaces, flopping back onto his mattress.

“Well what are you going to do?” Harry questions, staring down at his hands.

“Well the only thing I can do. Give it a shot, and if she says no, pretend it never happened.” Ron shrugs, tossing his covers over him again.

Life goes on the same after that, but the platonic relationship between you and the redhead seems to be in a weird spot. You try to ignore it, but the longing glances and light brushes of your hand push you, and you’re not sure what to think. Ron’s never shown this kind of touchiness with you, and now that he’s constantly by your side, it was weird to take in.

“You don’t think Ronald’s taken a fancy in you, do you?” Luna questions, shutting her book from in front of her.

“No, why would you say that?” Your eyes narrow and glance at the blonde.

“Well he’s looking over right now, kind of reminds me of a puppy.” Luna shrugs, pulling what you presumed to be the newest edition of the quibbles from her backpack.

“He has been acting rather strange recently, I don’t know what to make of it.” You sigh, glancing over to indeed see the gryffindor looking over at the two of you.

“Do you fancy him?”

“Well. I-I don’t know Luna.” You answer truthfully, shutting your textbook and placing it back in your backpack.

“I’ll see you at dinner alright.”

Luna nods, turning back to her reading as you sling your book bag over your shoulder and walk out of the library as a shuffle of feet has you swiveling around again.

“Y/n!” A familiar deep voice calls.

“Oh hey Ronnie.” You smile, tightening your grip on the bag strap resting on your shoulder.

“Mind if I walk you back to your common room?”

“Of course not.” You laugh, rolling your eyes lightly.

The trip back to the y/h common room is filled with light conversation as it usually would, though your breath would catch whenever you felt Ron’s ‘unknowing’ hand brush past your fingers.

“L-Listen, about last night. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I-I didn’t mean it that way.” Ron sighs, trying to clear the tension between you two.

Your heart jumps to your throat when you hear this and you lose your ability to speak, you choose to simply nod, smile and enter the common room.

Once you’re sure you’re out of earshot, you let out a deep sigh and head for the girl’s dormitory, deeply pondering your thoughts.

He didn’t mean it like that? What was that supposed to mean? He didn’t fancy you that was for sure.

You had intrusive thoughts quite a bit, maybe Ron had just let one slip?

Then, why did you lose your train of thought when he told you that? Your feelings for Ron were platonic, there was no way you could feel this way.

Days fly by and Ron is still yet to note anything about his past comment, he does his best to try and hint at his crush, but your reaction is never quite what he’s going for.

If he offered you a compliment, you blushed but responded as if he were a brother. If he invited you down to the kitchens, you’d find an excuse not to go. If he stood close to you, you either looked anywhere but him or nervously shuffled away. He thought he was being bloody obvious about his feelings for you, but one quick chat with Luna made him realize perhaps small signs weren’t enough.

“She’s convinced you don’t fancy her Ron.”

“Not at all? Does she fancy me?” Ron sighs, running a hand through his hair.

“I don’t think I’m allowed to say, these types of things are secrets after all.” Luna smiles, continuing her sketching.

It was time for drastic measures and Ron knew it, so he stepped up his game. Flowers and letters began presenting themselves on the windowsill by your bed, they were never signed, but conveyed passion and adoration, every single one had you a smiling mess tucked in your covers.

Ron was never quite good with words, but he did his best and they seemed to have a good affect. You were back to your cheery self around him, the cloud of awkwardness disappearing from the two of you. Along with the small notes and handpicked daisies he sent as the unknown sender, Ron began growing closer to you. His hugs lasted a couple seconds longer, his pinky would intertwine with yours if you stood side by side and he began treating you more as a crush and less, just a friend.

If he didn’t see you at dinner, he’d send a meal up with your roommate. If he found you pressuring yourself too much with studying, he’d pull you away from your books and take you on a walk around the castle. His letters became longer and more loving, and with the details hidden in the words, you were beginning to feel this secret sender was Ron, and you were falling for him.

Rosy cheeks became something you accepted not something you hid away, your arms stayed wrapped around the redhead until you had to pull away, or when he let go first, you caved into your feelings and allowed yourself to fall.

Nibbling on your bottom lip, you scan over your essay for the third time that hour to check for mistakes, when a brunette takes a seat in front of you and clears her throat.

“Oh Hi Mione, how can I help you?”

“You fancy him don’t you?” She smirks, leaning forwards in her spot.

“I beg your pardon?” You respond, baffled by her question.

“I see how you look at him y/n, and I want you to know I’m happy for you.” She smiles, taking your hand.

An invisible weight seems to be lifted off your shoulders at Hermione’s response and you squeeze her hand.

“Thank you, b-but I’m not even sure if he fancies me.” You shrug as Hermione tilts her head in confusion.

“You’re joking right y/n? Don’t you receive those sappy notes he sends to you almost every two days? He has me revise them for him y’know, it’s rather adorable.” Hermione laughs as your jaw drops.

“They’ve never signed the letters…”

Hermione’s lip pulls into a cringe, “perhaps I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No- Mione thank you!” You exclaim, wrapping both your hands around Hermione’s.

“Do you know where Ron is by any chance?”

“Clocktower courtyard, probably writing another letter right now.” Hermione states as you nod excitedly.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Go.” She laughs, standing from her spot and pulling you from your seat.

You nod and pull her in for a quick hug before scampering off, essay forgotten as you dash towards the courtyard.

You enter the large stone area to find it deserted except for a redheaded boy in a red sweater with an ‘R’ at the front and you smile.

Walking the last couple meters between the two of you and sit on the stone next to him.

“Whatcha got there Ronnie?” You tease, glancing down at the parchment in his hand.

“Y/n! Oh, it’s nothing. Just some… Homework.” Ron stammers, hiding the page behind his back.

“Oh then you wouldn’t mind showing me? I do need some help.” You ask cooly, raising an eyebrow.

“O-Okay, you got me. It’s not homework.” Ron sighs, raising his arms in mock surrender.

“I thought so, but anyways, care to tell me what it is?” You question innocently, recognizing the handwriting instantly to be your mystery sender.

“L-Listen y/n, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.” Ron mumbles, folding the piece of parchment and carefully tucking it into his pocket.

“What is it?” You smile, taking Ron’s hand into yours and stroking the back of his palm.

“I-I’m the one who’s been sending the letters to you y/n, it was me.” Ron states as he closes his eyes and waits for your response.

“Really? I would have never guessed!” You gasp in mock surprise. Ron must’ve heard your sarcasm, because he opens his eyes in shock.

“You knew!?”

“Don’t worry Ronnie, I only found out five minutes ago.” You laugh.

“Who- It was Hermione wasn’t it?”

You nod and Ron drops his head into his hand.

“Oh Ron, there’s no trouble.” You state, pulling Ron’s freckled hands away from his face.

“But there is! I was finally going to tell you who I was in this letter and tell you that I fancy you! I-” Ron freezes, realizing what he’d said.

“So, you do fancy me?” You inquire softly.

“I-I do. I fancy you so much y/n.” Ron sighs, standing and offering his hand to you.

“What’s this all about?” You giggle taking his hand and stepping from your spot on the stone.

“Well if you can’t read my letter, the least I can do is tell you what I wrote.” Ron sighs.

“Y/n, a little over two months ago, I asked you if you thought the two of us could be together, and in turn I made things awkward between us for the first time.” Ron starts with a chuckle as you smile lightly.

“I was so embarrassed, I told you I didn’t mean it that way, even though I did.”

You nod and Ron continues.

“I realized I was doing this too quickly, we grew up together, and have been best friends for years, it was a bloody mistake on my part to believe it could’ve ended well that day.” Ron takes a deep breath as you let out a small giggle.

“So I slowed it down, tried to show you my feelings through small touches and light compliments, but it wasn’t enough. I started writing these letters for you with flowers and chocolate, I held you a little tighter for a little longer during hugs, I treated you more like someone in love.”

“Y/n L/n, I have a huge crush on you, and because I’m sure you already know who the bloke who wrote this letter is, I have to ask. Could we be, more than friends?”

You open your mouth to answer, but Ron cuts you off.

“Yours and only yours forever, Ronald Bilius Weasley,” He concludes, resting his forehead against yours.

Joyful tears prick in the corners of your eyes at Ron’s final words, and you wrap your arms tightly around his shoulders as you lean closer to him.

“Yes Ronnie, more than friends.” You state, closing the space between, and connecting your lips to his.

Ron’s response is immediate as he smiles into the kiss and wraps his arms around your waist.

He tilts his chin to gain a better angle as he deepens the kiss and gently pulls away, lightly catching his breath.

“Is it too early to say I’m in love?” Ron chuckles, resting his forehead against yours again.

“Well I’ve only been waiting ten years for you to say it.” You tease, pressing a butterfly kisses to Ron’s freckled cheek as he chuckles and connects his lips to yours again.

[hysterialevi]

Hjarta | Chapter 10

Fanfic summary: In an AU where Eivor was adopted by Randvi’s family instead, he ends up falling in love with the man his sister has been promised to despite the arranged marriage between their clans.

Point of view: third-person

Pairing: Sigurd Styrbjornson x Male Eivor

Author’s note: Sorry about the delay on this one guys! As I said before I wasn’t feeling that great these past few days because of the vaccine, but I’m doing much better now. Thanks for being patient.

This story is also on AO3 | Previous chapter | Next chapter

A WHILE LATER

THE TEMPLE

This was it. This was finally the day.

After what felt like an eternity of going back and forth with his emotions, Eivor would see Sigurd married to Randvi at last, and the alliance would be set in stone. Their two clans would be joined into one fearsome army, and they would stop Kjotve from ever roaming Norway’s seas again.

It was a wondrous day for everyone in the village, considering the nature of their agenda. Vibrant decorations had been placed on every surface imaginable in Bjornheimr, and lively laughter could be heard ringing throughout the air.

Ribbons and banners hung from the roofs, lanterns dangled from the trees, and all across the ground, Eivor saw nothing but fresh flower petals adorning the paths. Meanwhile, the sounds of drums and lyres harmonized with the whispers of Mother Earth, and not too far away from him, the young man could see people dancing with one another.

It was a sight that normally would’ve inspired happiness in Eivor’s heart, but for today, all he felt was loneliness. 

Ever since he woke up, he hadn’t been able to shake off the shadow that loomed over him. The weight of Sigurd’s absence continued to linger on his shoulders, and it hindered his motivation to get involved with the festivities.

At the moment, he was currently sitting on a bench that rested just beside the temple and overlooked the wedding, giving him a clear view of its events. He saw clusters of familiar faces beckoning him to come join them, but no matter what, he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. And he knew exactly why.

Underneath the wedding arch, Eivor saw Sigurd and Randvi chatting with a group of people as they shared drinks with one another, getting a head-start to the wedding’s celebrations.

The prince was dressed in an ornate, white tunic paired with a crown of flowers that sat on his head, and his broad physique had been relieved of all the armor that he usually wore. He was smiling and laughing in the presence of the other guests, and on the surface, it looked like he was actually enjoying himself.

But underneath all the pretenses, Eivor could tell that the man was just as conflicted as he was. Every time he got a brief moment to himself, or was spared from the attention of scattered onlookers, his expression would drop, and a look of despondency would darken his eyes.

Sigurd seemed miserable, if Eivor was being honest. It was clear that he wasn’t willing to settle down with this marriage, but knew he had to for the sake of their clans’ safety... and it was ruining him.

Eivor just wished he could summon the courage to speak to him again. There were a thousand different things he wished to say to the man, but he had no idea how to word any of them. 

How could he talk to Sigurd while acting as if nothing happened between the two of them? Or that they weren’t both upset about this wedding? How was it possible that they’d be able to keep up that kind of charade?

At this point, Eivor knew better than to believe he’d be able to conceal his true emotions. He had already seen how easy it was for Sigurd to crack open his shell, and he didn’t want to risk losing control of any more of his impulses. Especially not on a day such as this. Ingrida’s warnings had yet to take their leave from the Wolf-Kissed’s list of worries, and the last thing Eivor wanted was to be the reason they came true.

“Everyone!” Arngeir called out, breaking Eivor’s train of thought as the music came to a pause. “Everyone, gather around!”

The jarl was currently standing at the front of the wedding with Styrbjorn at his side, and held a tall tankard of mead in his grasp. He addressed the crowd before them while Sigurd lingered next to the archway, greeting his people with a radiant smile.

“My brothers!” Arngeir said proudly, “my sisters! Today is a day for celebration. The seas of this war have been relentless with chaos, and we have endured a great deal to stand where we are now. I know many of you have sacrificed your heart and soul in the name of survival. You have fought, you have bled, and you have known pain unlike any other. But no more. Today,” he placed a hand on Styrbjorn’s shoulder, “the Bear and Raven clans will become one, and we will finally have what it takes to deliver Kjotve into the jaws of Nidhoggr himself!”

A unanimous cheer erupted from the villagers.

“So, drink!” Arngeir exclaimed over their voices. “Drink and feast to your hearts’ content! Let your spirits sing with joy as we celebrate this marriage, and let the gods hear our thundering war cries when the time for battle comes! May Freya bless this new couple with her loving embrace, and may Tyr guide us into victory. Or to Valhalla.” He raised his tankard in the air. “Skål, my drengir!”

The guests returned the toast. “Skål!”

A series of merry cries rose from the crowd as they happily downed their drinks in unison, eager to get the mead flowing. The music of the festival quickly resumed its lively beat, and chirps of laughter returned to the air. 

As for Eivor, the man remained seated by the temple and simply watched the festivities unfold, wishing more than anything that he could talk to Sigurd again. He knew the prince would likely welcome him with open arms despite the tension between them, but even then, there was just something holding him back.

He didn’t have the strength to approach Sigurd now that the man was officially married. Despite all his efforts to ignore it, Eivor did feel a spark of jealousy flickering in his heart whenever he laid eyes on Randvi, and he hated himself for it.

Randvi didn’t deserve any animosity. She was simply doing what she was told, just like Sigurd. Still, part of Eivor secretly wished he could be in her position. He wished he could openly display his affection for the prince, and not constantly feel the need to hide it.

But alas, there was no longer any grey area about the matter. Sigurd and Randvi had officially been bound by this alliance, and Eivor would have to stay away from him, no matter how alluring the thought might’ve been. They wouldn’t be able to repeat what they did last night, and to go against this marriage would’ve been a betrayal. 

“Eivor?” A stray voice blurted out, causing the Wolf-Kissed to glance over his shoulder. He hadn’t expected anyone else to be up here, and yet, he found himself gazing back at the one man who could’ve potentially eased his pain.

Ulfar.

“What are you doing here, little cub?” The old raider asked, pushing through the snow. “I assumed you’d be enjoying the festivities by now.”

Eivor turned back around and rested his elbows on his knees, staring blankly at the ground.

“I’m not in the mood.”

Ulfar cocked a brow at the response. “Not in the mood for a drink? That doesn’t sound like you.” A soft chuckle escaped his lips. “Must be something bad.”

He took a seat next to Eivor, allowing himself to rest for a moment.

“...Care to share your thoughts?”

The young man paused, throwing Ulfar’s inquisitive nature right back at him. “Before I do -- what are you doing up here? I’m surprised you’re not at my father’s side. He usually keeps you close.”

“Indeed, but today’s not exactly a usual day, is it? Eirik and I are patrolling the village at your father’s behest. He wants us to make sure the people are safe whilst they celebrate the wedding.”

Eivor glanced at the view in front of them. “See anything yet?”

“Nothing urgent so far. Eirik spotted a longship on the horizon earlier, but it’s impossible to see which clan it belongs to from here. He’s keeping an eye on it as we speak.” The warrior tilted his head at the other man. “And what about you? What brings you to the temple on a day like this?”

Eivor hesitated. “I... I don’t know if I should say.”

A tone of genuine concern took hold of Ulfar’s voice. “Is it truly that bad?”

“Yes. I’m afraid so.”

The raider leaned forward in his seat, looking the young man in the eye. “Eivor. Speak plainly to me. What’s going on?”

The Wolf-Kissed turned away from Ulfar, pondering whether or not to tell him. He trusted the man to keep this conversation between them -- he had never known him to be a snitch -- but even then, part of him feared how Ulfar would react.

Eivor was aware of the warrior’s doubts towards Sigurd after all, and the last thing he wanted was to tarnish the prince’s reputation even further. This alliance was as fresh as a newborn babe, and the young man wondered if it would’ve been foolish to expose his secrets so soon.

Still, Eivor knew he couldn’t keep it in for much longer. The stress that came with suppressing his emotions was quickly taking its toll, and he needed to let it out somehow. 

“Ulfar...” the young man said, “I’ll tell you what’s going on because I trust you, but this must stay between us. I mean it. No one else can hear about this. Alright?”

The older man’s brow was crinkled with confusion, but he complied nonetheless. “...Alright, Eivor. I understand. Now, what’s the matter?”

Eivor took a deep breath. “...Do you remember the conversation we had at the feast? When the Raven Clan first arrived?”

Ulfar chuckled. “No, not really. I’m an old man now, Eivor. My memory isn’t what it once was.”

Eivor returned the laugh. “You were telling me about Geirmund’s fortress. And how you met Linnea.”

The raider’s expression lit up with remembrance. “...Ah, yes.”

“You also asked me if I had found anyone significant in my life,” he continued. “I told you no.”

“And?”

Eivor knotted his hands together in nervousness. “Well... that’s changed recently.”

“Has it? Then why do you seem so upset? That’s a good thing, Eivor.”

“You wouldn’t say that if you knew who it was.”

Ulfar shrugged. “Well then, who is it?”

The Wolf-Kissed gazed down at the wedding. “...The man who just got married today.”

The old warrior followed his line of sight, instantly falling into silence once he realized whom Eivor was referring to.

“...You mean Sigurd?” Ulfar clarified, unable to hide the dread that was rising in his chest. “Oh, Eivor...”

“I know.” The younger man said. “I know it’s bad. I’ve told myself I shouldn’t feel this way over and over again, but no matter what I do, these thoughts just won’t go away. Sigurd and I tried to keep things platonic in the beginning, but over time, we just... couldn’t help it anymore.”

Ulfar let out a troubled sigh. “...And what about Randvi? Does she know about this?”

“No, I don’t think so. You’re the only one so far.”

That seemed to bring some relief to the raider. “Good. You’d do best to keep it that way. There’s no telling how others would react, especially the king.”

Eivor pressed a finger on his temple. “What should I do though, Ulfar? Out of honor, I can’t approach Sigurd now that he’s officially been wed. To entice him would be wrong. But I also can’t ignore how I feel.”

Ulfar’s gaze fell to the ground. “...I wish I had an easy answer for you, little cub. But the truth is, nothing about this will be easy. You have a special connection with Sigurd, and it isn’t going to disappear just because of this alliance.”

The young man grew despondent. “I only wish there was some way to forget about all this. Perhaps then, my mind would finally let me rest.”

The warrior shot a glance at his friend. “Eivor, are you listening to me?”

Eivor paused, urging Ulfar to continue his train of thought.

“You can’t make these feelings go away.” He reiterated. “You’re trying to fight a battle that’s already been lost. The best thing you can do right now is talk to Sigurd. Straighten things out with him. Clean up this mess before it becomes worse. It may not bring the outcome you want, but it will bring the closure you need. Trust me.”

Eivor peered in the prince’s direction, reluctant to accept reality. He knew there was truth to Ulfar’s words, but a part of him still wished for another solution. A solution that didn’t involve discarding his relationship with Sigurd. 

“...Perhaps you’re right.” He conceded in a downcast manner.

The raider’s voice softened with sympathy. “I’m sorry, Eivor. This must be difficult for you. But it isn’t your fault.”

That piqued Eivor’s curiosity. “You don’t think so?”

“No, of course not. We do not choose who we love. The Nornir determine that for us. Unfortunately though, our plans do not always match what the gods have in mind. I only wish you didn’t have to be the one dealing with this dilemma.”

“...So do I.”

Ulfar switched to a more encouraging tone, hoping to lift the young man’s spirits. “Hey, there’s no need to sulk. Remember what Ingrida always says. Any attempt to deviate from the path will be met with what was destined to be. Your time will come. Just not today.”

Eivor displayed a faint smile in response to his words. “Thank you, Ulfar. I--”

“--Ulfar...!”

Interrupting their conversation, a third voice suddenly jumped into the scene, causing the two men to glance towards the source. The voice was sharpened with a deep rasp that sat on its edge, and it seemed to scrape against the throat of its owner. It didn’t have much force standing behind it, but even then, Eivor could still hear the desperation behind its words.

“Yes?” Ulfar replied at the sound of his name. “What is it--?”

He came to a halt, taking a moment to process the peculiar sight approaching him.

Not too far away from them, Ulfar and Eivor saw Eirik limping towards the temple, practically dragging his feet through the snow. His labored breathing trudged along to the rhythm of his heavy footsteps, and his movements were sluggish with exhaustion. The main detail that caught Ulfar’s attention though, was the fresh trail of blood dotting the ground in his wake.

“Eirik!” The raider exclaimed in alarm, immediately rushing over to him. He supported the man’s weight in his arms, lifting him up as he spoke.

“Hey,” he called out, trying to get his attention. “Hey! Can you hear me? What happened to you?”

Eirik weakly gripped onto one of Ulfar’s arms, staring him in the eye. “...K-Kjotve. He’s... here. You must--” a numbing pain racked his body, coaxing a groan out of him.

“We must what?” Ulfar asked. But Eirik had already moved on.

“...please,” the injured man whispered, “keep my mother safe. Tell her... it isn’t...”

He fell limp in the old warrior’s embrace, passing onto the next realm with his final words trapped in his throat. His body keeled forward as his spirit departed from its shell, and upon greeting death, Eirik tumbled into the snow, revealing a number of arrows protruding from his back.

Before Ulfar had any time to mourn though, the rallying cry of a horn suddenly blared in the distance, calling for Bjornheimr’s warriors as Kjotve’s men emerged from the shadows.

The sounds of battle quickly rose throughout the village, and down at the wedding, Eivor could see Sigurd rushing to defend their people, storming around with a sword in his hand.

“Shit!” Ulfar cursed, rising from the ground. He whipped his axe out of its sheathe and placed a protective hand over Eivor’s chest, urging him to take shelter.

“Eivor, gather any survivors you can find and take them to the longhouse! I’ll join the other warriors and protect the wedding.”

“Wait!” The young man protested, grabbing Ulfar’s wrist just before he could leave. 

The raider glared at him with a bewildered look in his eye. “What is it?”

“...Let me defend the wedding. I’ll go in your stead.”

Ulfar clearly wasn’t on board with the idea. “What? This is no time to be arguing! You need to go, Eivor. Now!”

“Please,” he insisted. “I need to make sure Sigurd’s safe. He’s down there with the rest of my family. Let me do it. I’ll do whatever it takes to get them out of there alive. You know I will.”

The older man quickly shifted his mind, not willing to waste another second.

“...Fine,” he said in a hasty tone. “Do what you must, but do it carefully. I don’t want you following Eirik’s footsteps today. And don’t forget about the alliance, Eivor. I know how you feel about Sigurd, but we cannot lose him for the sake of this war either. Do you understand?”

Eivor gave him a firm nod. “I understand.”

“Good. Then may the Defender of Midgard guide our hand today, and may we pummel Kjotve’s skull with an axe at last.”

“Odin watch over you, Ulfar.”

The raider parted ways with the young man. “Odin watch over us all.”

~~~~~~~~~~

A FEW MINUTES LATER

THE WEDDING

Sprinting towards the ruined festival, Eivor fought his way through clumps of Kjotve’s warriors as they stormed the village and set fire to the buildings, staining the sky red with their morbid flames. Vivid sparks could be seen erupting from black pillars of smoke, and in the distance, the young warrior saw nothing but clouds of ash obscuring the path.

It looked like Ragnarök itself had been unleashed on Bjornheimr. Shrieks of panic filled the air like an orchestra gone mad, and just sitting on the horizon, Eivor spotted the striking silhouettes of Kjotve’s ships latching onto their docks.

It was a view the young man had been dreading for the past decade of his life. The memory of his parents’ deaths remained fresh in his head, and terror paralyzed his heart at the idea of losing a loved one again.

...But no. He couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t. Ulfar was depending on him to protect everyone at the wedding, and that was exactly what he’d do. Even if it meant sacrificing himself. He wouldn’t simply stand by and watch people die like before. This time, he would defend them.

Heaving his axe with a ferocious amount of effort, Eivor let out a rough shout as he lodged the sturdy blade into the neck of a raider, cutting them down within a heartbeat.

By now, it looked like Kjotve’s men had taken control of the wedding and gathered a handful of captives, lining them up as if they were livestock for sale. They had bound them with numerous bundles of rope and shoved them down to their knees, forcing them to watch their attackers from below. 

What concerned Eivor the most though, was that the raiders were no longer alone.

Towering over the rest of the scene like a lion searching for its prey, the Wolf-Kissed spotted the very same man who slew his parents all those winters ago, now staring down at the prince he loved. His face had been folded with wrinkles due to years of waging countless wars, but the rest of his stature remained as intimidating as ever.

Eivor felt like a scared little boy again just by looking at him. Kjotve’s mere presence was more than enough to bring back a flood of unwanted nightmares, and the young man suddenly found himself questioning whether or not he was fit for this task. He still heard his mother’s desperate cries thundering in his head as if she were there, and the haunting view of his father’s lifeless gaze had been branded into the back of his eyelids.

“Do not abandon him or his memory,” Eivor thought to himself, repeating Ulfar’s words from when he was just a boy. “You wish to reclaim the honor your father lost? Then you must fight for it.”

A sprout of fury flared up in his chest at the profound memory, and he shouted across the battlefield at Kjotve himself, speaking with a level of rage he had never experienced before.

“Kjotve!” Eivor roared, leading the man to come to a halt.

The gargantuan raider turned around to see who was calling his name and peered through the smoke, narrowing his eyes as he tried to identify their face.

Emerging from the sea of fire, Kjotve saw nothing but a lone warrior prowling towards him with a strangely familiar axe in his grip, sauntering across the blood-stained dirt. Gusts of wind distorted the ash blanketing the battlefield around him, and behind strands of golden hair, Kjotve spotted a pair of arctic orbs glaring back at him, wide-open with wrath.

Before he could address the warrior though, his son stepped forward first.

“What do you want, bacraut?” Gorm barked, pointing a finger at them. “A blade to the gullet, perhaps?”

Kjotve held out an arm. “Hold, Gorm. Don’t bare your fangs just yet. There’s something... different about this one.”

The man scoffed. “Different? He looks just like every other ‘warrior’ in this village to me. Weak and cowardly.”

“...Perhaps,” Kjotve said, glancing down, “but that axe...” He approached the stranger. “You there! Where did you find that weapon? Who are you?”

The blonde viking stopped in his tracks, keeping his gaze nailed onto the other man as the entire wedding froze to see what was going on.

“My name is Eivor.” He announced, his voice resembling the hiss of a serpent. “...You know me.”

Kjotve grinned immediately upon hearing the name and strolled towards his opponent, meeting him in the middle. 

“...Eivor? The son of Varin and Rosta? Heh. My, my. You were just a little boy the last time we met, Wolf-Kissed. I must say, I’m surprised to see you drawing breath even after all these years. You’ve certainly grown a lot since then. But alas... you are still no more than a child chasing after his father’s honor. It seems you’ll never learn.”

Eivor clenched his hand around the grip, doing his best to keep his anger at bay.

“...I have no interest in your taunts, Kjotve. I’ve only come for my family. Let them go.”

The older man laughed and planted his battle axe in the ground, resting an elbow on its hilt. “And tell me, Eivor -- why exactly would I do that?”

The young warrior raised his own weapon, looking at the line of captives sitting behind Kjotve. “I may have been defenseless during our first encounter, but don’t think I’ll cower away from you now. I will take my family back, with or without shedding your blood.”

Sigurd’s head perked up at the response, and he struggled in his restraints. “Eivor...! Don’t!”

Kjotve noticed the prince’s reaction, allowing him to think of a different approach. He doubted there would be much difficulty in slaying the Wolf-Kissed one-on-one, but he wanted to indulge in another method.

“Hmm,” he said in thought, “you wish to rescue these fools from their fate? Perhaps... there is a way we could arrange that.”

Gorm snapped his head in Kjotve’s direction. “Father!”

“Silence, boy.” He commanded. “These are my slaves. Not yours. I will bargain with them as I please.”

Kjotve shifted his focus back to Eivor, presenting his idea. “Listen to me carefully, son of Varin. I am willing to offer your people a way out of this, but only one. It’s your choice whether you take it or leave it.”

Eivor grew impatient. “Just say what you have to say and be done with it.”

The slaver smirked maliciously. “As you wish.” 

Kjotve tugged his weapon out of the ground and rested the blade on his shoulder, preparing it for battle. “...Lay down your axe. Surrender yourself to me, and I will let everyone else go, including your beloved prince here.”

Eivor fell silent at the demand and clenched his jaw in spite, almost having to stop himself from laughing at the absurdity of the request.

“You expect me to believe you?” He nearly growled. “After you spewed the same lies to my father, and broke your oath to him? No. I won’t do it.”

Kjotve lifted a brow. “Are you certain, Wolf-Kissed? You could be right, of course... but are you willing to bet your family’s lives on it?”

The young warrior’s expression twisted into a glower. “...You are a rat, Kjotve. A dishonorable wretch that will forever serve as a sheathe to Nidhoggr’s fangs...!”

The raider merely chuckled at the response, undeniably amused by his enemy’s distress.

“Well, if you prefer, I could always erase your doubt and simply kill them all right now.” Kjotve positioned his blade under Sigurd’s chin. “Starting with him.”

Eivor felt the urge to leap forward then and there, but held himself back. 

“Don’t... touch him.” He whispered, almost sounding feral. The slaver smiled back at him.

“You know what you have to do to stop me.”

The Wolf-Kissed gritted his teeth in rage and strengthened his hold on the axe, practically crushing it in his grip as his knuckles turned white. 

He couldn’t believe it. After thirteen years of planning for revenge and fending off the grief that came with his loss, he was now being forced into the exact same position as his father, and being humiliated like a thrall. Everyone’s lives depended on the sacrifice of his honor, but to comply would’ve meant giving up everything he had fought for.

What would happen to Eivor if he accepted the deal? What would Kjotve do with him? Would he truly keep his word and set the captives free? Or would he simply cut the young warrior’s throat, and demolish the rest of the village once he was dead?

Eivor didn’t know what to do anymore. He couldn’t bear the idea of watching anything happen to Sigurd or his family, but he also despised the thought of failing to avenge his previous one. 

Kjotve was the one who took everything from him. He destroyed his home, his childhood, and his life. To spare him now would’ve been an even greater shame than the one his father suffered.

But still... he loved Arngeir. He loved his sisters. And most of all, he was starting to fall in love with Sigurd. He had gotten so used to a world with the prince’s influence, that to see him drop out of it now would’ve devastated him.

He couldn’t allow him to die. He couldn’t disappoint Ulfar, and he couldn’t let the alliance crumble. Sigurd’s life carried far more value than his, and at this point, Eivor was willing to do anything to preserve it.

So, without saying another word, the young man reluctantly bent down towards the ground and gazed at Sigurd with an apologetic look, gently placing the axe right by his feet.

“No!” The prince exclaimed, his eyes widened with panic. “What are you doing? Pick up your axe, Eivor! Remember what this snake did to your father! Don’t let him corner you into his trap--!”

“--Quiet, you!” Gorm commanded, striking Sigurd over the head.

Meanwhile, Kjotve ignored his prisoner’s cries and grinned in satisfaction, focusing entirely on the man in front of him. 

“It seems you were correct, Gorm,” he remarked. “He is the same as everyone else. Weak... and cowardly. Just like his father. I should’ve guessed.”

Eivor’s glare only sharpened. “I did what you asked, Kjotve. Now, do your part and set them free!”

Kjotve shook his head in a patronizing manner, laughing shamelessly at the unarmed viking. A sheen of deceit plastered itself onto his barbaric smile, and simply by looking at him, the young man knew he had been fooled.

“Did you really think it’d be any different this time? I almost pity you, Wolf-Kissed. You’re an even bigger fool than Varin was. I suppose you’ll be joining him and your mother in Helheim, then. Send them my regards.” He turned to his son, bellowing a new list of orders at him. “Gorm! Take the strongest ones back to the ship alive. We can make use of them. As for the rest -- kill them all. We’ll leave their corpses for the ravens to feed.”

Gorm began strolling towards the prisoners. “With pleasure.”

“Wait!” Eivor shouted. But it was too late.

Within the blink of an eye, the man had already unsheathed his blade and pulled Randvi’s head back by the hair, preparing to slit her throat. Just before he could carry out Kjotve’s commands though, a lone arrow suddenly bolted through the air and planted itself into his shoulder, sending him reeling to the ground.

He flailed around for a moment and flicked his eyes around in shock, only to see the archer face-to-face once the chaos finally settled.

It was Ulfar.

“Cut them down!” The raider yelled, his voice thundering across the village.

Charging out from the smoke, Eivor saw a small army of men storming the wedding as Kjotve’s people froze in bewilderment, giving their clan the exact opening they needed to shift the balance of this fight.

The warriors immediately seized the battlefield and overwhelmed it like a fire feeding on kindling, driving their weapons through the hearts of their enemies. They hunted them down like animals running through a field, and showered the invading raiders with a hurricane of arrows.

As for Kjotve himself, the man fled to his longship with as many prisoners as possible and nearly dragged Gorm onto the boat, signaling his men to leave Bjornheimr. It was evident to him that he was now on the losing side of this fight, but even then, he still managed to take a group of captives that he was no doubt going to sell -- including Thora.

Ulfar, on the other hand, was busy freeing what prisoners remained. He had already released Randvi from her binds and was now carving his way through Sigurd’s rope, setting the prince free.

“Are you hurt?” The older man asked, helping Sigurd up to his feet.

“I’m fine, I’m fine!” He blurted out, eager to contribute to the battle. But Ulfar wasn’t ready to let him go just yet.

“Where’s Eivor?” He questioned. “I was able to see Kjotve and Gorm, but I couldn’t find the boy from where I stood.”

Sigurd gestured in the opposite direction. “He’s over there. He’s--” The man came to an abrupt pause, leading Ulfar to follow his line of sight.

“What is it?” The raider said, but it didn’t take him long to realize.

Kneeling in the dirt, Ulfar found Eivor sitting somberly amongst all the pandemonium, seemingly unfazed by the death and destruction surrounding him. His eyes were locked onto the axe lying beside his legs, and just by observing the boy, the old warrior could tell that he was trapped in another battle of his own.

Eivor just let his parents’ murderer escape for a second time. After thirteen years of waiting for him. He had been tricked by the same deal his father fell prey to, and now, there was nothing but humiliation weighing him down. 

He felt like a complete failure. His honor had been stolen from him once again, and now all of Bjornheimr was going to know it. They would see him as a coward for deciding to drop his weapon, and Kjotve’s forces would only grow stronger because of it.

But the part that stood out the most to Ulfar, was the fact that he did it all for Sigurd. Eivor had only known the man for about two weeks, and yet, he was willing to give up Valhalla itself in exchange for his survival. He knew the possibility of Kjotve going back on his word was likely, and even then, he still decided to take the risk.

Just how much did this man mean to him, exactly? Ulfar was aware of Eivor’s feelings for Sigurd, but he never expected the two of them to share such an adamantine bond. He could see now that the young man was truly in love with the prince... and it frightened him to the core.

This would not bode well for the marriage. Eivor could try to conceal his emotions as much as he wanted, but Ulfar already knew it would be for naught. It was impossible to ignore a love as strong as this, and he could only pray that the alliance wouldn’t fall apart so long as Eivor’s affections remained alive.

He supposed the best thing he could do now was guide the young man. Ulfar didn’t plan on telling anyone about his secret, but he also knew it’d be foolish to let his feelings roam free.

Kjotve was still out there. His army was still growing. And now, he had Thora as a slave.

If the people of Bjornheimr wanted to rescue her from his grasp, they would need the help of Styrbjorn’s entire clan to assault the slaver’s fortress. It would require every single warrior they had under their command, and Ulfar didn’t intend on letting Eivor’s hidden relationship put Thora’s safety in jeopardy.

He just hoped he wouldn’t hurt the boy by doing so. It was clear to him how much the Wolf-Kissed cared about Sigurd, so the last thing he wanted was to push the two of them apart.

But Arngeir needed Ulfar to maintain a clear mind. He needed his pragmatism. He needed his rationality. That was the whole reason he had kept Ulfar at his side for almost two decades now.

As much as it pained the old man, he would have to approach this objectively. He would have to keep Eivor away from Sigurd’s company, and ensure that the alliance remained strong.

Otherwise, he had no idea how the future would unfold. If anyone learned about their secret affair, Ulfar assumed that all hell would break loose. The friendship between their clans would instantly shatter, and the fires of a second war would likely ignite.

It was a dilemma that Ulfar wouldn’t wish on anyone in a paternal position, but alas, it was the one the gods had granted him. So, with a quick shift of the mind, the warrior brought his attention back to the battle at hand and left Eivor alone, allowing him to regather his thoughts.

He assumed the boy would be in a state of distress after the day’s events, and he didn’t want to be the reason he finally tipped over the edge.

Ulfar had enough to worry about at the moment, and he imagined it was just the beginning.

[rwby-diaries]

Happy birthday Blake!

The bestest kitty is up next! Blake was born on November 8th (Total Lunar Eclipse date)! This cute cat has had a lot of hardships in her life, but if there is one thing that’s absolutely certain, it’s that RWY love her to bits and always will!

Art piece sketch, background, and colouring editing by: @yang-diary

Line Art by: @thetopazvulpix

Coloured by: @catsofhorror

Shading by: @narwhalish 

Fic by: @lameclub

Edited by: @thetopazvulpix @yang-diary @jackedupjack

Fic under the cut!

"Why can't you just admit we took a wrong turn?!" Weiss' shrill voice echoes across the vast corn field. Ruby scoffs loudly as she turns back on her heels to face Weiss - hands on her hips with a slight pout.

"Because we didn't!"

Weiss scoffs in response causing the bickering back and forth to grow more heated. The two stragglers behind them giggle amongst themselves. Blake and Yang, not wanting to be dragged into the argument, walk beside each other at a steady pace at the back of the group. Both would occasionally glance towards the other with shy smiles before their gaze falls back to the ground shortly after.

Yang snorts as Weiss lets out a rather indignant shriek when Ruby blows a raspberry at her, "At least these two make for good entertainment."

Blake nods with a fond little hum as they continue to walk down the winding paths of the maze - nothing familiar seemingly jumping out to her.

As they pass by a separate path, in the near blind-spot of her vision - a low pulsating glow catches Blake’s attention. She pauses for a moment and looks towards it with a curious stare, but it wasn't long until its warm glow disappears behind the wall.

Almost on instinct, Blake feels her body move on it's own accord, her heart racing and her pupils widening suddenly. Blake could hear the bickering of Ruby and Weiss becoming more distant - but she wasn't thinking about that right now. Turning on her heel, Blake follows in the direction of where she saw the light go - leaving a confused Yang staring after her.

"Blake, where on Remnant are you going?"  She calls out only for Blake's head to turn back slightly.

"Something went down this way - let's go check it out!"

Yang pauses for a moment as her eyes shift in the direction of where the other two went - seemingly pondering on what to do. Blake could feel her ear twitch in the direction of where the light had scampered off to and shrugs.

"I can meet you guys at the exit," she tells Yang before she turns back around and darts in the other direction  - barely giving Yang the time to react. The other watches for a moment before curiosity gets the better of her and Yang smirks, chasing after Blake with a gleam in her eye.

As the two jog down the path, Blake does her best to focus on the small glow, as it would keep vanishing just out of her reach - much to her annoyance. For a few moments, the two remain silent and focused on the task at hand, but it isn't long until Yang couldn't keep quiet any longer.

"Do you even know what we're chasing?" That question has Blake's left ear twitch under her bow and she glances behind her.

"Not a clue," she answers plainly as she suddenly picks up the pace. Yang quickly follows suit as they sharply turn at another corner and the world falls silent once again.

As Blake moves through the night with ease due to her excellent night vision - she doesn't realise how little she is interacting with her partner. She was so focused on her goal she didn't hear Yang's numerous attempts to grab her attention. It isn't until the third 'ahem' does Blake jolt at Yang's voice - it sounds so loud in her head.

"I-I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me," Blake says, awkwardly laughing and scratching the back of her neck. Yang smiles at her warmly and waves her off.

"Don't sweat it - I know how focused you get." Yang says with an eyebrow raise. Blake giggles to herself as she covers her flushed face and finally looks around  - realization setting in.

“I...I have no idea where we are," she says quietly as she steps forward on her tip-toes and strains her neck in an attempt to see over the corn stalks. The maze around them seems to go on forever with the horizon stretching out of their view.

Yang hums to herself as she wanders around the small area, inspecting the different paths that lead in a variety of directions.

Yang shrugs, "Yep we're lost." Blake groans to herself while burying her face in her hands.

"Darn it, if only I hadn’t gotten distracted. I’m sorry Yang," she mutters, shaking her head and looking up at the paths again.

"Might as well keep going - we're bound to hear the other two eventually," she says quietly as she takes Yang's arm gently and the pair begin down a path of Blake's choosing. Little pumpkins dotted the sides of the trail - some painted and carved - likely by the local kids from around the area.

"I used to love pumpkin carving," Blake says, more to herself rather than to Yang beside her. The other tilts her head in Blake's direction, signaling her to continue. "It was a yearly tradition with my parents, during simpler times at least. I was eleven the last time I carved a pumpkin."

"Watch out!"

The pumpkin begins to roll off the table - causing Blake to shriek in horror as it falls. Before hitting the ground however, a hand catches it at just the last minute. A big burly laugh is heard as the pumpkin was placed back on the table.

"Be careful, my lil' puma," her dad says with a fond chuckle as he holds the pumpkin in place. "We don't have many of these lying around." He ruffles Blake's hair, who just giggles in response.

"Daaaad! You know I'm not a puma, I'm a Bombay and mama is a bur… a bur…" Blake starts but finds herself stammering mid-sentence as she stares down at the table, thinking intensely.

Ghira laughs as he pats her back "A Burmese, kitten," he explains and that causes Blake to jump up in excitement - nodding frantically. Ghira chuckles and kneels down beside Blake, as the two nuzzle each other's foreheads affectionately.

A small laugh sounds from behind them, "Looks like someone's excited for pumpkin carving." Kali smiles while taking the spot beside Ghira and crossing her arms. Blake nods enthusiastically as she slaps the pumpkin - it sounds like a drum.

"What do you want to carve into it, baby?" Kali asks, which has Blake pausing for a moment as she ponders the question. Pursing her lips, Blake reaches over and takes the marker carefully and sits back on her seat - humming to herself while inspecting it.

Both Ghira and Kali exchange soft looks between them before they sit down at the table and smile at their child whose eyes light up as an idea pops into her mind.

"I think I know!" she cries out as she sets herself upright and pulls the pumpkin closer in front of her. Picking up the pen marker on the table beside her in exchange for the larger one, she bites off the cap off it with fierce determination; but the moment the tip of the marker is pressed against the orange skin, Blake stops in her tracks.

"I don't know how to draw it," she says with a small pout. As her ears go down, Kali looks at Ghira with a small smile before she sits down beside her daughter.

"You don't need to be a master artist, my love," she explains while running her hands through Blake's frizzy hair. "You just need to try your best." Those words seem to do their job in bringing up Blake's spirits once more as her entire face lights up.

"What are you doing for your pumpkin, mama?" Kali giggles as she kisses the top of her daughter's head.

“As if I couldn't get any more stereotypical - I'm doing a tuna fish!" She answers her with a smile on her face.

Ghira let out a rumbling laugh beside her, "That's terrifyingly perfect for Halloween, ain't it my dear?" His teasing tone cases Kali to playfully jab him in the ribs. Blake could feel her stomach rumble at their antics as she hums to herself.

"Oooh tuna, my favourite!" Blake hums happily. Ghira nods in agreement.

"It's my favourite too, maybe we can catch some for next week! For an after-birthday celebration dinner!" He suggests with a smirk on his face and Blake claps her hands together in excitement.

"Sounds amazing, dad!"

Kali laughs warmly, "Going back on topic, what are you carving, dear?" She places her hands on Blake's shoulders, as the girl is practically thrumming with energy, and her eyes focus on her husband. Ghira stops for a moment as he thinks to himself and a serious look washes over his face.

"What do you think, Blakey, what should I carve?" He asks while turning towards his daughter who looks at him with big doe like eyes. Blake then proceeds to place a finger on her chin as she gives a thoughtful hum - her mind wild at work.

"You should make something super scary papa!" A devious look creeps onto Ghira's face as he leans on his elbow with smirk.

"Oh? But we already have you!" He says in a joking tone and Blake sticks her tongue grumpily but with no malice behind her actions. Ghira leans back with a hearty chuckle.

"I think my pumpkin will be a surprise!" Despite not fully being satisfied by that answer, Blake nods in agreement as she once again turns to her pumpkin, a focused look in her eyes.

"Then mine will be a surprise too!" She shouts out loud with a determined nod. Ghira and Kali both laugh to themselves as they accept her decision, and stand up.

"We'll give you space then, my love," Kali says as she pulls Blake in for one final hug but proceeds to blow raspberries into her neck. Blake snorts loudly as she pushes her mom off but can't contain the laughter that is rising up her body and escaping past her mouth.

As she is left to her own devices, several different ideas begin to bounce around inside of Blake's head - her tail wagging behind her. Thought after thought would rattle around but nothing seemed to stick or jump at her - much to her frustration. Groaning as she face plants the table before her and her attention falls elsewhere.

Spotting the slew of halloween decorations that littered around her house and several others, Blake sits up suddenly as she notices a particular one. A miniature, howling Beowolf animatronic with large fangs and smoky fur sits in the hallway. A grin creeps up her face as the pen marker is soon sketching the design on the pumpkin.

"Mama, papa! I'm finished!" Blake shouts excitedly as she runs over, tugging on her father's sleeve and trying to lead him in the direction of her pumpkin. Her dad laughs as he places his hand on his head and smiles.

"We're just finished ourselves, we're coming!" He says while tucking his own pumpkin under his arm. Blake jumps up and down before rushing off in the other direction, frantically urging her family to hurry up before sprinting ahead once more. Ghira and Kali smile to one another before following their daughter at a steady pace.

As they arrive back at the table, Blake's pumpkin is turned in a way that hides her carving. Blake plops herself back on the chair and pats the table while beaming brightly. Her parents arrive not long after and place their own pumpkins down in front of them.

"Do you want to go first, sweetheart?" Kali asks with the crinkle of a smile in her eyes. Blake nods as she eagerly taps her pumpkin, a big toothy grin present on her face. Kali giggles "Go ahead, dear, we're watching," she says with a look of encouragement.

With a small amount of effort, Blake turns the pumpkin around, revealing a rather choppy carving with random jagged points and no clear outline. Both of her parents glance at each other for a moment before they let out gasps of bewilderment.

"Wow darling! It's so unique!" Kali compliments warmly.

Ghira nods "I agree, honey - this is a true masterpiece!" He says as he takes in every aspect of her handiwork. Blake becomes quite bashful as her ears go down and she gives an awkward giggle.

"Beowolves are hard to carve, I was scared you wouldn't get it," she says, smiling. Kali shakes her head while walking over, ruffled Blake's hair before inspecting the pumpkin. Placing a finger to her chin, Kali hums in approval as she turns back towards Blake.

"A boo-wolf more like, very spooky!" She responds by playfully growling and hugging her daughter from behind and Blake lets out screams of laughter as she tries to wriggle out of her mother's grasp.

"Mama! That tickles!"

Kali eventually let's go of Blake and smiles down at her, her amber eyes swirling with warmth and love. "I don't think my pumpkin could ever compare," she says while turning around the orange vegetable, the careful carvings and details on the tuna fish has Blake lost for words as she stares.

"Mama, that's so cool!" Blake exclaims as she stares at it with her mouth agape. Ghira beside her whistles in admiration as he crosses his arms and nods - agreeing with Blake's statement. Kali softly blushes and leans up to kiss her husband's cheek, requiring her tip-toes just to reach him. Ghira's face mimics her blush, eliciting a giggle from her lips at the sight.

Blake looks up at her parents happily as they show affection to one another - it always made her happy.

It wasn't long, however, until Blake's attention was diverted somewhere else. "Come on, papa, you're next!" Blake calls out, gesturing to the pumpkin  that was still somewhat hidden away - causing the man to become rather embarrassed all of a sudden.

Kali's features soften as she places a tender hand on his arm, "Like I said to Blake, darling - you don't need to be a master artist--"

"--You just need to try your best!" Blake finishes with a smile.

Ghira finally brings his gaze back up to his family and a small fond smile makes its way back onto his face. "It might not be as much of a masterpiece as yours or Blake's, but..." he quietly says as he spins the pumpkin around with great ease.

Kali puts her hands up to her mouth with tears in her eyes while Blake gasps loudly.

Despite being crudely carved, the clear outlines of three people could be seen: two small stick figures with cat ears and a tail stand next to a tall, more squared figure.

Blake jumps from her seat "It's us!" She says loudly, running over to her dad who easily picks her up and hoists her onto his shoulder, keeping one arm over her legs for stability. Kali giggles as she nuzzles into Ghira's other arm.

"I love our family," Kali muses with purr.

Blake nods "Me too!" She says proudly, her tail wagging happily behind her. For the next few seconds, the trio embrace each other in total silence -  just enjoying each other's presence.  

Blake wipes her face and looks towards the sky, noting how much darker it's become. "Time flies when you're reminiscing," she muses. She holds her hand toward the sky and a soft glow lands on her finger. She brings it closer to inspect it, realization dawning on her.

“Wait, was I chasing a firefly before?” Blake asks, gaze shooting up from the tiny glowing insect in her hand. Yang chuckles, scratching the back of her head awkwardly.

“Yeah, I was pretty sure that’s what it was, but I didn’t wanna embarrass you,” she says, still grinning. Blake huffs to herself, watching the tiny bug as it takes flight with a passing breeze, a silence falling between the two.

As they both watch the small bug flitter off into the newfound darkness, Yang tilts her head in the other’s direction, “You’re pretty close with your parents, huh?’’ Yang mentions with a smile, but it didn’t garner the reaction she was hoping for - as tension falls on Blake’s shoulders.

“I-I’m sorry you don’t have to answer--’’

Blake shakes her head frantically as she crosses her arms, holding them over her chest with a sigh “N-No I want to… It’s just a little hard for me,’’ she explains while staring on ahead - her body feeling heavy at the thought. Yang’s features soften as she places a reassuring hand on her shoulder and immediately Blake eases from the touch.

Blake inhales deeply before speaking “I-I left home when I was very young - on my birthday in fact,’’ the more Blake speaks, the more shame starts pooling into her chest.  All Blake was waiting for was for Yang to lash out or feed into her guilt - but to her surprise it never comes.

In fact, the hand on her shoulder squeezes it in reassurance and a look of understanding washed over Yang’s face, “That explains why you were so hesitant to let us know it was your birthday, huh?’’ She suggests.

Blake nervously gulps and nods “I-I… I just didn’t want to be reminded of it,’’ she mumbles under her breath as her hands fall to the side of her body limply “It wasn’t just me leaving that bothers me the most - it was the reason behind it.’’ Blake’s voice is shaky as she explains further, her mind becoming rather hostile towards her own self.

“The reason behind it?’’

Blake opens her mouth to finish her sentence, but finds her eyes wandering towards the stalks of corn once more - only to notice a figure standing not that far in.

A man in the corn?

A man with horns...

Adam?

Blake stumbles back, eyes going wide with shock. Yang reaches out and catches her, steadying the other as Blake’s eyes readjust to the gloom. A scarecrow. It was a scarecrow, not Adam. Blake sighed in relief, only then realizing that Yang is helping hold her upright.

"You okay, B?" Yang worriedly asks, watching as Blake's frantic breathing finally returns to its normal pace. It takes a few seconds before Blake could compose herself and she sighs.

"I-I… I thought I saw someone-- something." Blake quickly corrects herself, all while staring down the scarecrow not far ahead of her - an uneasy feeling nestled within her chest. Following her line of sight, Yang takes a quick glance at the figure and then back to Blake.

"I wouldn't blame you for being scared of this thing," Yang starts as she walks over, inspecting the scarecrow carefully and shrugging, "This fella is very poorly made - we have more goofy looking ones back at home!" She explains while flicking the scarecrow's head and it barely budged.

"I don't even think they're meant to be scary - this poor one just got the short end of the stick… literally!’’ Yang says as she gently kicks the stick holding it up with her boot before walking back over to Blake, a big grin on her face. "You have nothing to be afraid of, especially when we're together!" She says with full confidence in her voice.

Blake blushes, "It's hard to argue with logic like that," she mumbles while playing with her thumbs, smiling down at the ground. Suddenly, Blake finds herself overtaken by a new and funny feeling  - it flutters in her stomach and makes her nervous.

What was this feeling?

All Blake knows is one thing - she wants to be close to Yang. Without warning, Blake wraps her arms around Yang and buries her face into her chest, much to the surprise of her partner. After the initial shock wears off, Yang pulls Blake in and hugs her even tighter.

"Thank you, Yang."

Blake's heart is beating like crazy, finding comfort  in how warm Yang's body is - a welcome change from the nippy autumn air. The two don't move a muscle nor do they speak a word - Blake enjoying the peace she has been withheld from for the longest time.

Everything was perfect… until-

"Take that, maze!" Screams a  voice, knocking the two out of their daze and drawing both of their attention. The blade of crescent rose slices through the corn, revealing Ruby and Weiss - the latter of whom was standing there and shaking her head.

"I will slay the hay!" Ruby screams.

Weiss raises an eyebrow "It's corn, you dolt."

Ruby blinks a few times before triumphantly holding crescent rose up high once more "I will slorn the… corn?" When Ruby loses momentum halfway through the sentence, Weiss groans.

"You're honestly going to get us kicked out.''

Yang laughs, "I think she has the right idea!" She calls out with a smirk, as she wanders over towards the other two. Blake watches as the excessive chatter starts up once again but she can't stop herself from giving a wistful sigh.

"You need to stop encouraging this behaviour, Yang!" Weiss says while sticking her nose up and huffing.

Yang rolls her eyes and yanks Weiss in with the crook of her elbow, "Lighten up, Weiss!"  She teases much to the annoyance of the trapped individual.

Blake snickers, "I like Ruby's plan," she says and Weiss gasps while pushing Yang away and staring at Blake in mock betrayal. Ruby fist pumps the air with a quick 'woo!' with a grin painted across her face.

"Birthday girl's wishes are to be followed-"

Ruby stops herself and covers her mouth, shooting an apologetic look in Blake's direction. The other blinks for a brief second before she manages a short laugh - confusing the others around her.

"It's okay Ruby - my birthday wish is to slice our way through this maze," Blake says while placing a hand on her hip and nodding. Ruby sticks her tongue out at Weiss who just responds with an irritated huff.

"Feisty! I like it," Yang says with a wink while she readies her gauntlet, "I'd love to see that side of you more." She comments, causing Blake's cheeks to burn brightly and she was thankful that her friends couldn't see in the dark like she could.

"Onwards, Team RWBY!"

On their way out, Blake makes sure to slice up one particular scarecrow, leaving its head all alone on the dusty ground.