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mybillyhardgrove · 4 years ago

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He loves you, he loves you lots b.h.

A/n: if you haven’t read Mango Kisses, check it out :) this piece may be my favorite thing ive written so far and im excited for you to read it!

Disclaimer: i don’t own any Stranger Things material

Word count: 2467

Warnings: some cheeky remarks from billy and a couple curses

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Reader (female)

Summary: after being with Billy for a few months, it has become clear how he shows his love for you

Physical Touch

The touches had been deliberate at the start, meant to convey the interest you two had in each other. Flirty touches of his shoulder or arm as he talked to you in the school hallways or at random parties on the weekends. Gentle touches of your lower back as he walked past you, his chest rubbing a bit on your shoulder blades, though there was room enough for him not to need to be so close.

As your relationship developed, the touches became more frequent and less subtle. His arm draped around your shoulder or his hand in your back pocket, your legs crossed on his lap or your fingers intertwined with his. No matter what, it seemed that you were connected in some way almost all the time.

Finally, when you accepted Billy’s invitation to a date and you were officially his girl, the touching didn’t stop. Not that you minded. You found it so endearing that Billy seemed to reach for you, sitting with his knee touching yours, his hand on your back, his shoulder rubbing against yours, his hand on your thigh while he drove. It also seemed he didn’t realize he was doing it most of the time. It was an unconscious pull he had to you whenever you were near. One of your favorites was when you and Billy laid together and he played with the ends of your hair, rubbing his fingers together and smoothing the bumps away. It tended to relax you so much that you had to fight to keep your eyes open, lulled by his steady heartbeat and the warmth of his body wrapped up in yours. “That feels nice, Billy.” You felt his chest vibrate as he laughed, pulling you closer and lightly scratching your scalp as you let sleep fall over you.

It meant even more to you that Billy was so comfortable being physically affectionate with you after you learned about his childhood and the physical and verbal abuse of his father. This point was driven home when you were sitting at a diner one evening, Billy’s sneakered feet rubbing yours as you sipped your milkshake. You grabbed his hand resting on the table, softly rubbing your thumb over his knuckles and giving him a soft smile. He squeezed your hand in response, wiping his mouth and making sure he had your attention.

“I’m glad you’re my girl.” Your smile immediately widened, teeth popping out.

“I am, too, Billy.” After a beat, “What made you say that?” He grabbed your other hand across the table.

“I’m just happy to have you. It feels nice that I can reach out and I know you’ll be there. Your hugs, the way you touch me, I’ve never felt that before. Usually it’s rough and my dad or a girl wants something from me. I like that you touch me and let me touch you so much because you’re happy.” You could see he was losing his nerve, pulling his hands away and preparing to put on the devil-may-care attitude that was common when with friends.

“I love you, Billy. And I love that you feel comfortable enough to share that with me. I hope I can always make you feel that way.” He looked up, smiling a little, the tension leaving his shoulders. You didn’t want to make him feel awkward by focusing on the confession too long, so you continued. “Now eat those fries before I steal some.” He chuckled and grabbed your hand again, reaching across with a fry for you.

Once he had dropped it in your mouth, he cleared his throat. “I love you, too.” You smiled widely again, squeezing his hand a little tighter.

Words of Affirmation

You were rushing to get ready, imagining the look on Billy’s face as he sat on the couch all ready to head to the party. Your hands were shaking a bit as you dusted the rose blush on your cheekbones and nose. As Billy’s girl, you could expect as always to be the center of attention for most of the night as girls looked at you in jealousy and boys looked at you while they talked with Billy. It wasn’t that you wished you weren’t with Billy, it just got tiring to have all eyes on you both.

“Are you almost ready to head ou-” as you turned towards the sound of Billy’s voice, you watched him lower the sunglasses from his eyes, dragging his baby blues down your body and back up. You could feel your cheeks get hot as he let out a low whistle. “God damn, baby, you look like that and we may never make it to that party.” He came closer and wrapped his arm around your side, his hand fanning across your lower back and with a small pull, your body was flush to his. He leaned down to press his lips to your jaw, murmuring compliments as he spread the kisses down your neck and behind your ear. “You’re so beautiful.” Kiss. “I can’t believe you’re mine.” Kiss. “So smart and kind.” Kiss. “I am the luckiest man in Hawkins.” Kiss. “I love you so much.” After this last profession, Billy pressed a soft and meaningful kiss to your lips, lingering there as his hands came to rest on your hips, giving them a squeeze.

You tilted your head to the side into the kiss, slipping your fingers in his hair and scratching a bit at his scalp before pulling away and grabbing your purse. “I’m ready to go. Let’s get this over with.” You grabbed his hand and led him out of your room.

He followed with a lovesick look on his face. “Yes, ma’am.”

Gifts

“Bill, shift your legs a little, mine are falling asleep.” You and your boyfriend were currently watching Red Dawn, your head resting on one side of the couch as Billy’s was resting on the other, legs intertwined and a thin blanket over the both of you. Sadly for you, it wasn’t quite enough to keep goosebumps from rising on your skin. Although the day had been fairly warm and you felt good in a sundress as Billy showered you in compliments all day, you were now verging on cold. Alone in the Hargrove’s house for the evening, the cool air coming in the open window was making you shiver.

Finally too distracted by the chill, you rose from the couch and shut the window, returning to curl up against Billy. You lifted the blanket, wiggled between his legs, and rested your back against his chest with the blanket up to your chin. He shifted a little and wrapped his arms around you, putting your hands in his. “Jeez, babe, your hands are freezing.” He pulled them up to his mouth, blowing warm air into your curled fingers, rubbing his palms together in an effort to bring them back to normal. You moved your feet a bit and accidentally pressed your cold toes to his bare leg. “Your feet are like ice cubes! Why didn’t you tell me you were so cold? Scoot forward, I’ll be right back.” You did as you were told and he swung his leg over your head, retreating to his room for a minute before coming back, a mess of fabric in his hands. “Here, put these on.”

You took the lump to the bathroom and laid it out, finally determining what he had given you. A cozy pair of his sweatpants, a long-sleeved henley shirt, and a pair of thick socks. Humming, you slipped your clothes off and changed into his, surrounded by the smell of cologne and a hint of smoke. You grabbed your things, dumped them next to your purse in the living room, and crawled back under the blanket with Billy.

“Feeling better?” He rubbed his hands down your arms.

“Much. Thank you.” You turned your head, pressing a kiss to his lips before settling to watch the rest of the movie.

A while later when the movie was finished and it was time for Billy to drive you home, you explained you would return his clothes the following day. “Keep them. They look better on you anyway. My gift to you, so you don’t freeze your ass off anymore.” You giggled and grabbed your things, admiring how loving Billy was to you.

Acts of Service

It was a bit of a tradition that had developed where Billy would climb up the trellis to the roof outside your bedroom window, tapping lightly so you would let him in. You loved when he did this and never asked why. He loved that about you - you didn’t need a reason or an explanation, you were there with a smile and a kiss, ready to snuggle and whisper until the morning.

This particular night was a bit different than usual. When he began the climb to your room, he could see the window was already open, likely because it was a cool night and the breeze felt nice on your skin. Smiling as he thought about seeing you, he peeked in the window and saw something that warmed his heart. The light next to your bed was on and illuminated the pile of books and clothes around your room as you slept in the middle of your bed, a notebook still open on your lap.

Billy let out a breathy chuckle as he quietly climbed in, careful not to wake you. He shrugged off his jacket and slipped off his shoes, placing them by the window. Who knew a girl who so lovingly helped Billy clean his room when Neil rode his ass about it would be able to make such a mess herself. He knew from your recent conversations that school was kicking your ass at the moment and it seemed cleaning was taking a backseat for the time being. He looked at the soft rise and fall of your chest, your tangled hair, and the pout of your mouth for a minute before getting to work. He gathered empty water bottles and crumpled up pieces of paper, throwing them in the small garbage can under your nightstand. He collected the school books that lay in a halo around you, gently lifting your hand to grab the notebook and pen you had been writing with before nodding off. Placing those on the top of your dresser in a neat pile, he went into the hall to grab a laundry basket.

After Billy had picked up the discarded clothes on your bed and floor, as well as those in your hamper, he tiptoed to the basement to throw the load in for you. Carefully avoiding the creaky spots on the staircase, he returned to your room, pleased with himself that it once again resembled the way you liked it. He pulled the socks from your feet, knowing you hated sleeping in them. As he did so, it dawned on him that they were his socks. In fact, you were also wearing the pair of sweatpants and the henley shirt he had given you the night you were cold while you watched a movie together. That memory brought a smile to his lips. Finally, he grabbed the rolled edges of your sheets and comforter from the foot of the bed, lifting them over your legs and up to your chest. This caused you to shift, taking a deep breath before rolling over, giving him enough room to slide in next to you. He did just that, humming a bit as he wrapped you in his arms, drifting quickly to sleep to the sound of your soft breaths and the warmth of your bed.

Quality Time

“Really, Billy, I don’t mind. I’ll just stay home and see you later.” You were currently on the phone with your boyfriend, trying to convince him to go to the party alone that you were going to go to together. It had been your plan all week to go to this party together and you even had an outfit laid out for the occasion. Unfortunately, you had woken up with a sore throat and a completely stuffed nose. After a few hours of blowing your nose, taking Vitamin C, and praying this would go away, you were resigned to call Billy and tell him he’d have to go without you.

“I am not going unless you’re there and I can tell from your voice that you’re really sick. Lay down and get cozy, I’ll be over in a little.” You sighed, disappointed that you were altering the plans for the evening.

“I’ll be fine. I feel bad that-” Before finishing that you felt bad for throwing a wrench in the evening, you were interrupted.

“I am not going to that stupid party, baby. I couldn’t care less. Trust me. Now get under the covers. I’m coming over. Is the door unlocked?” You answered in the affirmative and with one more order to get under covers, he hung up. You shuffled your feet across the carpet, burrowing under the large throw blanket, tissue box close by.

For a while, there was silence (apart from the sneezing and the pounding in your head from an annoying little headache that had formed since your call with Billy). You were somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, praying that this would end and missing the time you could breathe out of your nose. As you lay staring at the ceiling, you heard a familiar rumble in the distance get closer until it finally stopped in front of your house.

A few steps up to the front door and the creak as it opened and shut brought your boyfriend into view. “Shit, baby,” and with that, he kneeled next to the couch, running his fingers through your hair, wincing a bit as they ran over your forehead. He put his cheek there to confirm before saying, “I think you have a bit of a fever, too. You got it rough. But don’t worry, I brought all the things to make you feel better and I won’t leave your side until you’re good again.” He reached behind him, dragging a plastic bag full of medicine, chocolate, more tissues, and even a couple movies. You knew you were in for a troubling evening as you fought against the fever, headache, and sore throat. But with Billy by your side, it would all be okay.

By the next morning, after a night of movies, talking, snuggling, and even Billy spoon-feeding you soup, you felt almost your old self again. You were so grateful for your wonderful and caring boyfriend who showed his love all different ways. You made sure to tell him a million times, though he already knew.

masterlist

#billy hargrove x reader #reader x billy hargrove #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove/reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things/reader #billy hargrove #stranger things #stranger things 2 #stranger things 3 #reader insert #fanfic #fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #billy hargrove fanfics #billy hargrove fanfiction

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shepard-ram · 4 years ago

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Non-Liquid Red [Dsmp!Reader & Mumbo]

(P!fluff a tiny bit of hurt, Request: DUDE. I TOTALLY NEED A MUMBO ONE. IVE BEEN BINGING HIS HERMIT CRAFT SERIES AND JUST A READER FROM THE DREAM SMP FINDING CONTENT IN THE INTRICACIES OF REDSTONE AND HAVING FUN JUST BUILDING FARMS WITH HIM BECAUSE IT KEEPS THEIR HANDS AND THEIR MIND BUSY AND MUMBO AND THEM JUST FARMING TOGETHER AND ENJOYING ONE ANOTHERS COMPANY PLEASE.)

(I'm sorry for how long it takes me to get to requests, I'm far from a fast writer. And I'm realizing most of these are 95% dialog)

----------

"I think that should be it!" You gave an exhausted grin. He had said that a few times already. Still when Mumbo jestered the signal to you, you let out a silent wish as you hit the lever for the God knows what time.

He ran back to your side and crossed his fingers watching the newest edition to his industrial district kick to life. You were both covered in the glowing dust that powered all the machines around you. Between all the edits you both had made over the day it felt like nothing could possibly go wrong. And when nothing seemed to break you both burst in victorious cheers.

"FINALLY!" You plopped on the ground right there watching the farms newly produced resources travel up to the storage system. Mumbo sat next to you.

"Seems your excited to be done with me." He light-heartedly said.

"Don't say that like you don't act like a puppy when these things finally work" you teased back. He raised his hands in a silent defense "I get it though, it's satisfying to see it's actually done and working." He nodded in agreement at that. "I get why you guys like doing this so much."

"Did you do alot of redstone back on your server?" He started up another conversation.

"No not all" you answered, "I like to think I'm better than most of them, but the bar wasn't high at all- trust me." You added. "We do have a couple of really smart guys though," you were thinking out loud at this point. "Like Sam, you'd all like him I think."

"Well if you do then I'm sure we would." He sincerely responded. "What is he like?" You had told Mumbo how much you enjoyed being able to talk about the better parts of your old home, and ever since he always tried to get you to tell more stories.

"He's probably the best engineer we have, tall creeper hybrid. Really sweet dude, he taught me most of what I know. I was never as good as him though." You fondly recalled.

"He sounds like Doc." You both smiled at the connection.

"Yeah Doc always did remind of him. Minus all the cyborg bits" you laughed. "Sam could actually make his own if he needed them. Honestly I wouldn't be shocked if they turned out to be long lost brothers or something!" you entertained they thought before shaking your head.

"They both are pretty talented hm?" He hummed even with his lack of knowledge about your friend.

"Oh he is, he made the one big redstone build we have." You sang his praises.

"Really! What's that." Almost immediately feeling some regret as your face dropped.

"Pandora's vault" you added in a much more monotone voice. "A massive inescapable prison complex, made In a way so magic doesn't work. When I left Dream just locked up and Sam was the warden. Terrible place to be, but I can't say I feel bad for the bastard." You scoffed.

You saw that he was speechless at your vent, quickly rushing to lighten the subject. "But this is a great change of pace!" You blurted out. "It's nice to have something to keep myself busy." You added in a more sincere tone. "I like being able to make something that doesn't hurt anyone, it only makes- only helps. You know?"

"Yeah, thats a good way to put it." Grasping for something to say after your monolog. "Sorry if it gets frustrating how long it can for me to get one of these working."

"No no I don't mind at all. Prepare for the worst, hope for the best. That's my mindset after all" You gave a small smile with the sincere response. "I really like it here." You truthfully confessed.

"Well, that's nice to know. I'm glad you're here." And after some more talking you decided to go you're separate ways for the night.

#mcyt x reader #mcyt x y/n #mcyt x you #hermitcraft x reader #hc x reader #Shepard ram writes #c: mumbo

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junko-and-riri-domain · 4 years ago

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exam season ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ni-ki

“you aren't wasting my time, and you need rest. please, ___ this isn’t healthy.” riki pleaded, and he seemed so genuinely concerned for you. “I know we’re labelled as rivals all the time but I want to get to know you better. as someone who ranked 1 consistently, I wanted to meet the one person who managed to achieve the same thing."

you and nishimura riki are rivals under the same company. after all, being the same age and pretty much the same level of talent made you and him quite unstoppable. the company thought it’d be a good idea to let you two meet and get along, but it turned out to be quite the opposite ordeal. though, this always remained to be a respectful rivalry. nothing petty.

warnings : overworked reader, insecurities, fainting from exhaustion, hints at negative body image ( good ending )

note : this is also off the top of my head, please ignore any mistakes !

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ rest under the cut

what were you supposed to think?

you had to admit it to yourself though, similar age and practically same amount of skill in dance would mean that this unit would be pretty much unstoppable. it’s just ;; the unspoken consequences of young teamwork at play.

training for about half a year at belift, you’ve become quite popular among the trainees. they describe you as a dance prodigy. if you were going to be honest, it was kind of embarrassing. the spotlight was okay depending on the circumstances but, to be described as something so honorable made you feel like you weren’t worthy of it. on top of that, your vocals were always stable while practicing, making you stand out and always place #1 on exams.

and so you started to practice harder, with the same thought of

‘i have to prove that i’m worthy to be labeled as a prodigy, otherwise why else am i here?’

to ni-ki, you were always so hardworking. sometimes, he thought it was too much. he’d pass by the room you were practicing in during lunch breaks and he would see you dancing your heart out, sweat threatening to fall from your face. he could tell you were tired, but due to the rules, he wasn’t allowed to talk to you. he considered you his opponent in a way, but it wasn’t to the extent of ruining your workflow.

and to you, ni-ki seemed like a charming rival. the way he danced had always mesmerized you, his snaps and swift moves are always close to perfect. this motivated you to practice even harder, despite already achieving extreme skill. you often nitpicked on yourself and keep saying that you’re not doing something well enough, and that you’re not good enough and you have to try harder. you honestly thought he was kind of annoying. not only is he literally so tall, he's a dancing machine. everything that you wanted to be. ni-ki may have been your unspoken rival,

but overcoming your extreme feeling to be better than the previous day is your true rival.

coming home after training, you were always exhausted. as much water you drank, it never felt as if it quenched the thirst you brought upon yourself from working so hard. while doing homework you always zoned out, your concentration nowhere to be found. at some point, you even stopped messaging your friends as much as before, ignoring any notification that popped up and practicing till the sun peeked above the horizon.

this feeling of wanting to slip away into well-deserved rest never sat right with you.

'if I have time to do something, then I'll do it now. rest can wait.'

---

the week before, an exam was assigned to all the trainees. the exam was to be separated by gender, but you thought this was kind of dumb. and so what did you do? you asked the choreographer if you could take both of the choreographies instead of being categorized into one section.

"that's a great idea, ___! I'll allow it this once, since you always rank 1 anyways. in fact, why don't I ask riki if he wants to do an co-op exam with you? you guys are the same age right?"

all you could do was let out a hum and nod.

'nishimura riki... I hope I don't mess anything up.'

"he always ranks 1 in exams as well so I think it'd be perfect!" he continued, a bright smile flashed across his face at the realization of a great performance in development.

he walks off, and briskly walks to where riki usually practiced.

phew

you let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding. you've done many exams before but it had never been with another person. trying to convince yourself everything would be okay, your intrusive thoughts came in again.

'what if i embarass myself? what if I can't learn the choreo and mess everything up? what if he doesn't like m- wait. that doesn't even matter- ugh.'

you stood there for so long thinking to yourself about the future that one of the trainees had to tap you on the shoulder to make sure you didn't see medusa or something. repeating your little sorries and thank yous, you left the practice room and went on your way home.

you'd think that after weeks of non-stop overworking you'd hit your limit by now. the thing is, you never learn your lesson until you have to learn it the hard way. and that's exactly what's gonna happen.

---

back to the present, riki was currently doing a run-over of what he thinks you guys should do to make the choreography better. if there was one thing you and him had in common, it's that you always wanted to be ranked 1 through hard work.

however, you disagreed with some of the steps he created, and respectfully asked if you could show him what you were thinking of. in all honesty, riki was quite impressed. he'd never seen you dance up close since all he was able to do was take quick glances, but seeing you pour your heart into what you love and being absolutely great at it, it kind of gave him the feels.

yes. the feels. the butterflies. 🦋🦋🦋

though, in the next moment, butterflies was far from what he felt. his stomach did a full 180 and his face in such a shocked state as he watched your eyes roll back as your body practically shut down in front of him. he sped down to your side quickly and shouted for help, as he tried to shake you awake.

"please please wake up, I'm not sure if you'd wake up at all if you fell asleep so please..."

was the last faint thing you heard before slipping into unconsciousness.

---

beep , beep , beep

your eyes flutter open to reveal that you were in the nurse's office in the same building. to say you were relieved was an understatement, hospitals scared you a lot more since they'd have to call your parents.

looking around the dim room, it still resembled a hospital room, monitor, needles, riki, IV, wait. riki?

your eyes practically shot back to where he sat, head bowed down in an awkward position, closed eyes with phone in hands.

honestly speaking, it was kind of cute. but you knew it was uncomfortable. and you also felt SUPER guilty making him wait for you and practically ruining practice. he stirred a bit, easy to wake up due to the uncomfy position his neck was in.

in a couple of seconds you hear him ask, "___? you're awake?"

"riki.. what happened?"

"the trainer, our choreographer and the building's medical team were all here. they said that you were overworking yourself. not only that, you didn't eat, drink, or sleep enough. which I can only assume is because you're constantly practicing."

"... I'm guessing that has to be true then, if I'm already here. riki, I'm sorry."

"sorry for what?"

"for wasting your time. you didn't have to be tangled up in my mess if I wasn't an idiot and asked them for a different exam. we could'v-"

he cut you off, “you aren't wasting my time, and you need rest. please, ___ this isn’t healthy.” riki pleaded, and he seemed so genuinely concerned for you. “I know we’re labelled as rivals all the time but I want to get to know you better. as someone who ranked 1 consistently, I wanted to meet the one person who managed to achieve the same thing. you didn't disappoint me, you didn't waste my time, in fact, it was fun watching you disagree with the things I said. but then you fainted in front of me. I had no idea what to do, but thankfully Jungwon-hyung came in and helped me. but all that aside, your body needs rest. I've talked too much."

"it's okay, your voice seems to be making me sleepy anyways."

he didn't know whether to take that as a compliment or an insult.

you handed him a spare pillow from your bed though, so he'll just take it as a compliment for now.

he didn't know what took over him in the next few seconds but he slowly put his phone in his pocket and reached his hand out to you, his hand resting on the bed right next to your waistline. as if it was beckoning you, your hand gravitated towards his, and the warmth of his hand and his comforting presence was enough to lull you back to sleep.

---

all the trainees in the floor were gathered in practice room #1, awaiting the announcement to see who got rank 1.

of course, they were expecting you and riki, but not together at the same time.

"nishimura riki, ___ ___. rank #1"

you and riki looked at each other in excitement, you could do nothing but listen at the moment, but celebration was in order later.

celebration? oh did you mean cuddles, making sure you're rested well and eating okay, hand holding, and a whole lot of light-hearted teasing? yeah.

[end]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ written by junko

|blog masterlist|

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comphersjost · 4 years ago

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All For You (4 times you tried to tell Brady you loved him, and the one time Matty did it for you) ➸ Brady Tkachuk and Matthew Tkachuk

reahi, i had an idea and opened a document and i couldnt stop writing, this is what came out. it was edited but i made a lot of changes after, so please forgive any mistakes, typos, plot holes, etc. enjoy :)

Finally fed up with pining over your best friend from afar, you enlist the help of Matthew to help you get the guy - you’re just not really sure who the guy is anymore. Or: 4 times you tried to tell Brady you loved him, and the one time Matty told him for you.

word cout: 5.1k (sorry lmao)

warnings: a LOT of angst, like a lot. smut, nothing as wild as ive written before, car sex, cockwarming, etc. etc. usual cussing, love triangles ig? alcohol, super brief mention of weed, mentions of sex while drunk/high

part two

part three

part four

part five

masterlist

You tried to take Matty’s smile and what was supposed to be an encouraging nod to heart, and let it boost your with confidence. But it didn't. It really, really didn't. You could see Brady on the other side of the room, smiling down at your mom the way he always did. It was that smile he reserved for your parents, the charming, boyish, smile. It was the same smile that got your parents to let you out of the house late in high school even though you were grounded. It was the smile you got to see sitting on your rooftop just a little too tipsy at 2 in the morning. The same smile you wished you could kiss right off his face.

Brady glances up from your mom’s face for a moment, and catches your eyes. His smile widens impossibly, and you watch him excuse himself from your mother. She smiles knowingly at you, a gentle sparkle in her eye as Brady finds his way towards you.

You latch onto him as soon as you're in his arms, pressing yourself to him, closer closer closer. “Hi,” you hear him mumble against the top of your head.

“Hi, B,” you breathe back, barely audible over the chatter in the room. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, buttercup,” Brady beams down at you, squeezing your shoulders again.

Your throat dries up as you stare up at him. You always loved the way his eyes crinkled shut when he smiled big like he was now. A tiny part of you wants to say fuck it and stand up on the tips of your toes to kiss him full on the mouth. You feel yourself swallow, your mouth opens and you want to get the words out, just like Matthew said you could.

“Listen, Brady I-”

“Y/N I want you to meet someone.”

You and Brady spoke at the same time, and rather than let you finish your sentence, Brady lets you out of his arms, resting his hand against your lower back and leading you somewhere deeper into the house.

“I want you to meet my friend,” he continues, “I know you haven't seen anyone since… but anyways, yeah I think you might like him.” Your lips remain parted, the words stuck in your throat. Of all the things you expected coming to the Tkachuk house tonight, of everything you could have thought might happen during your plan to confess your feelings to your best friend, an off-handed mention of your piece of shit ex-boyfriend and Brady attempting to set you up with someone was far from it.

Your eyes are hazy, your focus far from the situation at hand, even as you let Brady introduce you to his friend. You barely remember the poor kid’s name, too caught up in trying to keep your shit together. Your eyes find Matthew’s, hating the sympathetic smile on his lips.

You don't want his pity. It just makes you feel worse. You turn abruptly to Brady’s friend and stop him mid-sentence. “I’m really sorry,” you say, “I just don't think this is going to work out, I have my eyes on someone else.” He doesn't say anything as you walk away, bee-lining straight for Matthew.

You grab his forearm, ignoring his protests when you drag him out to the backyard.

“Why did he do that?” you say once you're outside. “Why did he introduce me to someone that I could date? What if you're wrong, Matty? What if he doesn't like me like you think he does?”

Matthew didn't have an answer for that. He did know one thing though.

“Then he’s an idiot, Y/N, and he can't see a good thing, a great thing, even when she's right in front of him.” You let out a wet laugh, trying your best not to read too deep into what Brady had tried to do tonight. Instead you let him tuck a strand behind your ear and pull you into a comforting hug, the both of you unaware of Brady’s eyes on you, a smile tugging at his lips at the thought of you two together.

II.

Ottawa playing a game against Calgary meant you had to cancel any and all plans you had for that weekend. The whole Tkachuk family couldn't make it from St. Louis, but you living in Calgary made up for it. You were shaking with excitement - you hadn't seen Brady in a month and a half, since that horrible attempt at telling him how you felt. You hoped that this time would be different.

The arms that wrap around your waist in the middle of the hotel lobby are all too familiar to alarm you.

“Hi, buttercup,” comes the soft whisper, and you can't even attempt to fight the smile that pulls at your lips.

“Hi, Brady,” you whisper back, feeling Brady loosen his hold on your so you could twist around in his grip. “You've been gone too long.”

“Hmm, I know,” Brady hums, kissing your hairline gently. “I'm sorry I'm not visiting as much, you know it has nothing to do with you right?”

“I know, Brady,” you reassure him. “I just miss you.” I love you. The thought is screaming in your head, begging for you to let out.

I love you I love you I love you

“Just say the three little words, Y/N, tell him how you feel.” Those were Matty’s words, just this morning when you had a crisis about seeing Brady again. You paced across the floor of his living room, the walls and tables all over his apartment covered in jerseys and odd paraphernalia he’d acquired over his time playing in the NHL.

“I can't, Matty, what if he,” you gasped for air at the idea, “what if he doesn't love me back, I don't think I could handle that.”

Matt had laughed at you this morning, assuring that to the best of his knowledge (and he knew his brother pretty damn well), Brady was in love with you too. Besides, he'd said, even if he wasn't in love with you back there was nothing you could do to make him want to stop being friends with you.

Brady pulls away from you, preparing to head to whatever restaurant you were supposed to meet Matthew at.

“So, Brady, there was something that I-”

“Hey, what's this?” Brady’s curious expression made you pause. He tugs the fabric of your sweater down a little by your chest, exposing your collarbone, and a dark purple mark you hadn't meant for anyone to see. Your blood runs cold, knowing exactly where that's from.

Matthew had given it to you, when the both of you had gotten just a little too wine drunk and you'd ended up in his lap. It was ironic really, you'd been discussing how to drop more hints to Brady about how you feel about him. He'd been helping you with that dilemma since the summer. And then last Sunday, you'd been over at his place for dinner, and the night had ended with him grabbing handfuls of your ass while you whined desperately against his mouth.

There was no way you could tell Brady how you felt now, not with him having just asked about the bruise his brother had left on your skin.

“You and my brother finally getting it on?” Brady says suggestively, a shit eating grin on his face as he wiggles his eyebrows at you. You feel like a deer stuck in the headlights.

“Why would you even say that?” you snap, ignoring the way he recoils, lips parted and eyes wide in surprise. “Come on we have to go meet your brother for dinner.”

III.

You and Matthew had bought your plane tickets home for Christmas together, deciding that it made more sense since you both lived in Calgary and were going home to the same neighborhood. Brady’s flight was coming in the day after. You’d been spending most of your time at the Tkachuk house, lounging around with Matthew. You’d hung around their house to stay out of your mom’s way, knowing having people around would only just stress her out as she prepared for your whole family to come home.

Today was the day Brady’s flight was coming in. Chantal and Keith chose to spend the day out shopping before heading to the airport to pick up Brady late in the afternoon. Taryn was spending the day at her friend’s house, leaving you and Matthew alone in the house.

Which, you should have known it was a bad idea. You swore it was nothing between you and Matt, you swore it was just about Matt helping you get the guy, get Brady. But it seemed like the more you, Matt, and alcohol were all involved, you ended up in precarious positions.

Today you chose not to drink, hooded eyes watching Matt take another drink of whatever liquor he’d chosen this time, before your gaze slid back to the pipe in your hand, lighter dangling between two fingers. You knew how this would end, you and Matt would get wasted, you’d fuck, rough, hard, fast, desperate, and then you would go back to pretending it never happened, went back to him helping you with getting Brady to notice your interest. You didn't talk about it, and you were almost always some kind of inhibited.

You refused to fuck Matthew in his childhood bedroom, arguing that it was bad karma. He laughed at you then, a soft laugh, clear of any indication that Matt is drunk out of his mind. The laugh is too innocent of a laugh for the way his voice lowers after it ends. He talks you into it, seduces you more like. He’s got you sliding into the backseat of a beat up old Toyota Corolla, his first car (“And how exactly is that any better than your childhood bedroom, Matty?). He tells you that you have hours alone in the house before anyone comes home and you might as well pass the time.

The talking and seducing turns into heated, sloppy kisses. You giggle against his mouth, tugging at the curls at the back of his head while avoiding the thought that you swore to yourself you would tell Brady how you felt when he got home tonight. But then Matthew’s lips trailed away from your mouth, over your jaw, your cheek, the curve of your throat, and any thought of Brady was gone.

The messy kisses turned into you riding Matt, his old car rocking back and forth as you bounced on his dick. He kisses you to quiet his moans. No one was supposed to be home for hours but, just in case. He's got you whining desperately while you clench around him, his giant hands squeezing your hips. He guides you up and down on his cock, relishing in the way your body moves the way he wants without a fight.

I bet Brady couldn't fuck you like I can.

The thought flashes through his brain before he can stop it, and then it's like someone put a red tint on his world view. You belonged to him. Matthew’s possessive rage has him fucking harder into you, his hands falling from your hips to your ass to slam you forcefully down on him. Growls fall from his lips, the thought of his younger brother fucking you making him intent on bringing you to as many orgasms as possible. That thought is also what made his teeth come down on your skin. He sucks and bites into your skin all over your chest, leaving marks that would expose that you were having sex with someone to anyone who saw - that would expose you to Brady.

You let out almost a squeal when you cum, clenching around Matthew’s cock and sobbing desperately. You don't see the smug grin on his face when he watches you cum, only letting him keep doing what he's doing because it just feels so damn good.

Matt follows through on his mental promise, fucking you through as many orgasms as he could (5, the last time he checked, he lost count). His hands flex over your ass, sighing contentedly as he pulls you so that you sink all the way back down on his cock. He pulls you to his chest, nuzzling into you as the two of you doze off.

Brady finds you that way, seeing the way you’re nuzzled into his brother’s chest through the windshield. The fact that he only saw you through the windshield protected him from seeing the most incriminating part, Matthew’s cock, still stuffed all the way inside of you. He can still see the bare skin of yours and Matt’s shoulders, so he opts out of waking you up, instead heading towards his room to shower off that airport smell and nap, a devastatingly pretty blonde attached to his hip.

When you wake up, you feel groggy, but more sober than before. After you moaned pathetically when Matthew lifted you off of his cock, the two of you snuck back inside the house, managing to get you out the door and back to your house, and Matthew to his room. When you and your family made their way over for dinner later that night (the hickies and bruises on your skin successfully covered up), you feel your heart twist in your chest at what - or rather, who - greets you there.

“Y/N! Hey!” Brady sounds so excited, so you humor him, hiding the way it feels like you're about to explode into a million little shreds. “This is my girlfriend, Autumn.”

And - you really can't hate her. She's so nice, so incredibly kind and radiant and you really don't blame Brady for not taking his eyes off her the whole night. You didn't even know he was bringing her. Matthew catches your eyes, shaking his head sadly and mouthing I didn’t know.

You shrug, your gaze falling back to the design on the carpet, how the spirals of each shape in the carpet almost mirror your heart, spiraling out and falling apart before your eyes.

Matt’s gaze remains on you. Something about seeing your skin clear and bare after he had taken such good care to leave as many marks as possible didn't sit right with him. It made his gut twist; he wanted everyone to know. He wanted Brady to know.

You hate the unpleasant feeling in your gut every time Autumn says something. And you really hate the way Brady smiles apologetically at you when you pulled him aside to say “You never told me you were seeing someone.”

You just had to get through this night and then it was back to Calgary.

IV.

Of all traditions your family has with Tkachuks, the vacations are your favorite.

You're in California this offseason, renting a house in some random, tourist-attracting beach town. Both your families had always done something similar to this (letting the boys take care of a large chunk of it now that they're on NHL salaries), renting 2 houses and splitting you up between the parents and you and the Tkachuk kids once you were old enough.

Brady had broken up with Autumn in May, which you couldn't be more thankful for, knowing that had that not happened she would've been on this vacation. “Nothing terrible happened,” he assured you over the phone that day. “She's an amazing girl, she really is, she's just...she's not the one for me.”

You were glad he couldn't see the smile that pulled at your lips at those words.

As for Matthew...well, you'd barely done as much as look at him since Christmas, not wanting to fall back into the habit of sleeping with him whenever you managed to get drunk enough to forget Brady’s existence for half a second.

But now Brady and Taryn are at the beach, meeting up with some friends they somehow convinced to drive up from Orange County, and you were laying outside in the rented house’s backyard on one of the pool chairs. You’d opted to stay home this time, having spent almost every minute of this vacation attached to Brady at the hip.

It was pathetic, almost, the way you followed him around. Matt thought so, at least. What he thought was even more pathetic though, was the way Brady had the perfect fucking woman in front of him - pining after him even - and he still couldn't see it, no matter how hard you and Matt tried to make him.

Matt hates that he finds himself wishing that the whiny voice you used to get Brady to do things you wanted was following him around instead, like the incessant bug he'd teased you about being when you whined for the millionth time to Brady that it was hot.

Brady had looked at you all soft in the moment, leaning down to kiss your forehead before placing his arm around your shoulders and pulling you into him. “Not hot enough for you not to cuddle with me,” he’d said, your giggles prompting him to tickle your sides until you'd both forgotten about your complaining.

“Y/N, you left your water bottle outside,” Matthew says abruptly, adding on a “by the way” so you two would stop staring at him like he interrupted something. Like he wasn't even supposed to be there.

“Oh,” the realization makes you frown, and the pout that accompanies your furrowed brows almost make him combust from how cute you look. “Didn't know you noticed I left it out there.”

Brady keeps his arm around you as he lets you take him back outside for the water bottle, making you miss the way Matt whispers “I always notice.”

You briefly wondered what Matthew was doing, before the question was answered for you by a soft sensation against your knee. His lips trailed up your thigh, nosing at your skin before pressing another open-mouthed kiss into your thigh, making your eyes flutter open briefly. It's hot, your skin feels like it's on fire, buzzing, like you're vibrating from the inside out.

Even with the sun washing over you the way that it is, the fire you feel on your tanned skin, Matthew’s lips make you burn. He makes you ache, the way he hasn't touched you like this in months.

“Everyone is gone for the day,” he murmurs against you, kisses becoming more frequent across your hips. “All of them. I could fuck you and make you scream and no one would know.” His words make you shudder, your back arching as his lips traveled upwards, teeth coming out to mark you up all over your tits. “So pretty like this baby, when I mark you up like that.”

You know that if you don't stop him now, Matt will get you in his bed - he would get you in his bed and then from there he'd take you apart with his fingers, his cock, his mouth. Then he’d use that same damn mouth that got you into bed with him to talk you into staying there. And as much as you love Brady… you can't resist him. You place your hand on his shoulder, his skin is warm, and it takes everything out of you to push him away.

“Matty, stop, Matthew, stop it.” Suddenly you can feel the sun back on your skin, Matthew having retreated from you completely.

“What's wrong?” he says softly, “Please, what did I do?”

“Nothing,” you lie, closing your eyes again so you wouldn't have to look at him as you say your next words. “I'm telling Brady how I feel. Tonight. No matter what happens I’m telling him tonight.”

“Oh. Good luck, then, I guess.” That's all Matthew says, then there's a shuffling noise and silence. Then the slam of the sliding door to the kitchen.

You shift uncomfortably and turn your thoughts back to Brady.

It’s later, when you’re curled up against Brady’s chest with a random movie playing on tv that you get cold feet. It’s just you and him, on the couch of the first floor of the house. Matthew is God knows where, and Taryn still hadn't gotten back from her friend’s house. This moment on the couch with him is perfect, it feels so domestic. You don't want to ruin this moment by telling him how you feel, and potentially - probably - being rejected.

You promised yourself.

You take a deep breath, ready to blurt out those three little words, and then -

“So, you and my brother huh?” Brady murmurs, eyes remaining trained on the action scene on the screen in front of him. “I know you got defensive last time I mentioned it but you guys are good together, and I'm glad you finally see it.”

You feel like you can't breathe, your throat choking up. You want to cry, yell, scream, something to just let him know that you love him.

“Actually, Brady -”

“Hey, don't worry it’s okay,” Brady laughs, reassuring you and pulling you closer to squeeze you. “I promise, I've seen you with him, and I think you guys are good together, don't worry about it.” You fall silent, not really knowing how to work your way out of this one.

“We’re not together,” you say quietly, and you had the way Brady’s hum of acknowledgment sounds like he doesn't believe you. You give up on telling him tonight.

The expression on Brady’s face drops when he meets your eyes across the table. You were just so tired. And you knew that he could see it in your face. What with work absolutely kicking your ass, to the point where you were barely able to get this week off to come home to St. Louis. It’s the end of summer, which means you and Brady were about to go through months of hectic schedules and voicemails that say “Hey, sorry I just missed your call, life has been crazy lately.” Your gaze falls from the lines of Brady's face to the seat at his right side.

Autumn smiles at you, and you hate the way the warmth that radiates from her feels like a knife twisting deeper into your gut. You hate yourself for how much you hate Autumn, you know she doesn't deserve it. Brady catches your eye again, a brief flash of recognition sliding across his face before it's gone. You'd been avoiding him for the past three days since you got here, and you almost felt guilty for it.

Matt’s hand gripping your thigh draws your attention away from Brady. He squeezes your thigh, smiling reassuringly at you and bumping your shoulder gently. It’s when Autumn finally stands from the table, smiling sweetly at Keith and Chantal, that you release the breath you'd been holding in all night. Brady says he's going to walk her out, a car waiting for her outside to take her to the airport back to Ottawa.

You don't fight it when Matthew tells you to head downstairs and he and Taryn could take care of the cleaning up. You curl up on the couch in the basement, stealing Matt’s Flames hoodie off the back of a chair and a blanket from the closet. Your eyes flutter shut to the muted noises of the dishes clinking together.

You let your eyes flutter closed, only opening them again when you feel a warm heat slide in beside you. You hum when Matt kisses your temple softly.

“You okay?” he nudges you gently, stealing the end of your blanket to cover his legs.

“Yeah, just tired,” you mumble back, voice muffled by the pillow your face is half-buried in. You know Matthew knows better than to believe your blatant lie, but you're okay with the way he chooses to move past it and not make you talk about it.

The two of you lounge on the couch silently, Matt switching on some Netflix show he’d been watching after you heard Taryn say she was going to bed. You tried not to think about how long Brady was taking upstairs with Autumn.

They'd gotten back together over the summer, she’d reached out to him before he left for the off season, which he failed to mention until it was nearly over. Against both yours, Matthew’s, and Taryn’s advice, Brady had bought a plane ticket back to Ottawa, saying that he might as well give it a shot.

Matthew had held you when you cried that night, Taryn bringing the two of you water and food when it was clear you weren't leaving his room, much less his arms.

He wanted to hold you right now too, god how he wanted to hold you. But he couldn't, not with Brady due back any second from waiting out front for Autumn's ride. He couldn't risk Brady seeing the two of you, not again.

Brady had made comments here and there about Matt’s relationship with you. No matter how much Matt insisted that the two of you weren't involved, Brady wasn't convinced, insisting that he was okay with it.

But right now, in this moment, he wanted to believe him. Matt’s hands ached to touch you, hold you, draw patterns on your skin, he yearned for it. He wanted - he needed to make sure that you knew that everything was going to be okay. Just as his resolve starts to crumble, his hands twitching in his lap as he begins to reach for you, a voice comes from the stairs.

“We should talk - right?” Brady is talking to you, making you open your eyes to look at him. “Like - things are weird, have been weird, and we have to talk about it right?”

You nodded silently, shifting in your spot so that you're sitting up, any physical contact you had with Matt now lost. “Yeah,” your voice comes out small, a whisper, and then stronger, firmer. “Yeah, we need to talk.”

This is it.

The silence in the room is almost unbearable, and you're unable to choke the words out. Brady stares at you, while you stare down at your hands. Matt refuses to look at either of you, gaze trained on the wall behind the TV, jaw clenched so tightly that if your eyes were on him you'd tell him he was about to break his teeth.

“Is this about you and Matt?” The words come out of nowhere, and it feels like you've been slapped.

“What?” Matt’s head snaps towards Brady, as does yours.

“No, really,” Brady says, “Did you guys break up oh something?

“What are you talking about Brady?” You can't stop the frustration from seeping into your voice. “That's not what this is -”

“‘Cause you know I’m okay with you guys together,” Brady continues obliviously, “I keep telling both of you that it's fine but I don't get why you insist on-”

“Oh my god you idiot!” Matt’s outburst shuts Brady up pretty quickly, leaving the younger brother staring at him with wide eyes and an open mouth. Matt looks at you and his eyes are sad, regret and apologies already written all over his face for what he's about to say next. “She's in love with you.”

He speaks so quietly you almost don't hear the second part of his statement.

“And I’m in love with her.”

Time screeches to a halt. You're convinced it's a dream, nearly pinching yourself to prove that it is. Brady is staring at Matt now, and you're staring at the ground.

“You're lying.” You don't believe the words you're saying either, and neither do Matt and Brady.

“I love you.” He's telling the truth, you can hear it in his voice.

“Stop.”

“I love you and you love him.”

“Stop it!”

“I love you, and, fuck - Y/N, it’s simultaneously the best and worst thing that’s ever fucking happened to me.”

“Please! Matty, please! Just stop!”

“Is he telling the truth?” This time it’s Brady. His voice quivers with every word. Like he doesn’t want it to be true. “You're in love with me?”

You wrap your arms around your torso, squeezing your eyes shut and hoping - praying - that when you opened your eyes, this would all be over and you'd wake up in your bed. But when you opened your eyes again, you were still on the couch in the Tkachuk’s basement, blanket tangled between you and Matt.

“You should have let me tell him,” you say to Matt, ignoring Brady’s question, still lingering in the air. “I wanted to be the one to tell him, you knew that.”

“Well, he hasn't been letting you, now has he?” Matt snaps back at you, the regret showing up on his face almost instantaneously. “Baby…”

The name slips out on accident, he doesn't mean to say, and he sure as hell doesn't mean for Brady to hear it.

“Okay, what the hell is going on here?” Brady finally yells, fed up with being kept in the dark. “What the fuck are you guys talking about?”

“I don't-” you start to say, trying to say it before Matt does.

“She loves you, okay?” Matt grabs your hand for a moment when he starts to speak, giving it a squeeze before taking his own hand back again. “She loves you in more than a friend way, and we’ve spent nearly the last year trying to get her to tell you but every time - every time Brady! - some stupid shit happens, like you trying to hook her up with someone, or - oh, I don't know - randomly springing your girlfriend on us!”

“That was one time!” Brady argues, “Besides you were the only one who knew Autumn was coming, why are you even mad?” You flinch at the mention of her name, but freeze at what comes after.

“What?”

Matt looks like he's been caught red handed - and he has, really. He just didn't mean for you to find out this way. He didn't mean for you to find out any of this the way that you just did.

“I can explain -”

“Please don't,” you stand up just as Matt is reaching for you. “I don't want an explanation. I don't - I just want to - I’m going home.”

While Brady doesn’t even look at you, Matt nearly lunges for you when you walk away from the couch. Walk away from him. He hates the way the thought stings. He barely manages to brush his fingertips against the red fabric of his hoodie before you're halfway up the stairs and the door to the basement slams shut.

#n e wayz #matthew tkachuk #matty tkachuk #ratthew!!!!!#brady tkachuk #ottawa senators #calgary flames #hockey #imagine #smut #nhl #4+1

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shattersstar · 4 years ago

Text

bluebelle

and if the devil was to ever see you, he’d kiss your eyes and repent (part one)

pairing: alucard x reader

excerpt: it seemed as if each corner of the castle held something of you; a bouquet of flowers you had picked for one of the halls in the east wing, a book you half read discarded in a barely used study, the faint flour fingerprints on the railing from when you made banana bread and had gotten so excited it turned out well you dragged Adrian into the kitchen despite the mess on your hands. The brush of your lips even lingered on his skin, the softness revered and remembered. It was warming to find all the parts of you in the tomb that had become his home yet again. (title comes from bluebelle by frank carter and the rattle snakes)

warnings: alucard being loved and appreciated, fluff, minimal angst

a/n: well I couldn’t work on requests till i got this out of my system. kinda stressed abt posting for castlevania bc i dont think? ive talked about it on here before? buuut i can’t stop thinking abt alucard after rewatching season two so here we are. anyways feedback is appreciated.

—

You weren’t by his side in the morning, the sun slotting from the vaulted windows cascaded a stream of warmth that didn’t touch your skin. He startled, fingers curling into the cool sheets. You’d been gone for a while and he hadn’t heard you leave, he—

Adrian had slept. Through the night.

That thought was almost as jarring as your lack of presence. He let his palms dig into his eyes, sliding out from under the covers and dressing quickly. His steps were always light, even against the old floors of the castle. You once mentioned you didn’t think he walked around the castle, merely hovered when you first moved in. Mostly because it was easy to find you, your step not nearly as cautious as his, your scent always lingering through the air, like a trail of crumbs.

Although now, it had become harder to find you because of it, it seemed as if each corner of the castle held something of you; a bouquet of flowers you had picked for one of the halls in the east wing, a book you half read discarded in a barely used study, the faint flour fingerprints on the railing from when you made banana bread and had gotten so excited it turned out well you dragged Adrian into the kitchen despite the mess on your hands.

The brush of your lips even lingered on his skin, the softness revered and remembered. It was warming to find all the parts of you in the tomb that had become his home yet again–but still, it made finding you down a bit more difficult.

He’d begun to rely on sound more, listening from the dragging of ladders around one of the many libraries, the boiling of the kettle or even your voice muttering nonsense to yourself. Sometimes singing, but once you realized he could hear it at great distances, your face burned hot and you only hummed absentmindedly these days.

Your love also reached great distances, bounding higher then the gothic walls you two dwelled in, tendrils of your affection brushing over him like calming waves, as if you somehow purposely emitted your feelings. A secret empath perhaps, humming with love and nudging at his scarred chest until he let you in.

He knew all of that was facetious, nearly musings to keep his thoughts on you as he made his way calmly through the labyrinth castle. You had called it that, still getting lost in it to this day and shouting for him when you’d get frustrated enough. You’d pout when Adrian would casually walk over to where you found yourself, nonchalant and even a little amused. Though, the spike in adrenaline that flowed through his system each time that happened contradicted his calm demeanour each time he approached. He always moved in a flurry, zigzagging and hunting through the daunting walls till he could locate you. He didn’t want you to worry, to see his first thoughts went to danger, he knew you wouldn’t be happy with that. He knew you’d stop calling for him if it meant his fear would take over, that you’d likely stay lost for a lot longer all for him.

It was a dangerous thing, the way you loved him.

He sometimes wished you had been together before his mother died, so that his love wasn’t weaponized against him. There was always going to be a fear attached to his love, everyone waiting for the day he’d break like his father, that his love for you would drive him mad and the cycle of destruction would repeat. It was destined to happen in so many minds, cycles were tricky like that, promoted to be broken, but never as easily as suggested.

That was until you made it easy. You pulled him to your chest and toyed with his hair, skin drying from the bath and voice speaking all the truths he needed to hear into existence. It seemed as if the path he was supposedly destined to be on crumbled before him. He didn’t actively choose to be different, be good, be better, there simply was never the option to be bad once he realized he loved you.

Even now, unable to find you, fear trickling into his stilled heart, there was no anger bruising his soul. The thought of losing you hurt, more than any adjective could place, but it’s a wallowing kind of hurt, the cold grief stricken kind that doesn’t ignite hellfire, but tears. Adrian hadn’t even realized his eyes were brimming with them until your voice carried, a small shout followed by a laugh. His head all, but snapped up, focusing on it and soon he was in the doorway, a sense of calm replacing the creeping anxiety as he found you atop a desk, trying to place a box onto one of the many shelves in this study. The study you had claimed as your own, in love with the large circular window that overlooked the forest instead of the crumbling estate. You didn’t fear the Belmont’s as many had, but rather didn’t find the appeal in staring at a pile of wreckage.

A huff of amusement echoed in the back of his throat when you’d said that casually over dinner, coming to regret the statement when it was passed onto Trevor the next time he visited. Amusement almost laced his mind now as he watched you for a moment, you shoved the box a few times, its contents rattling as you were just a bit too short to rest it securely. He contemplated offering his help, but sure calling attention to himself would startle you, the box likely to fall.

Instead he moved swiftly, behind you in a half a breath and reaching over your shoulders to push the box the rest of the way. You still startled, jumping with a small gasp, your arms dropping back down. You both stood there for a moment, your back rising and falling against his lean chest, his arm slipped to his side, fingers brushing yours as he did. You glanced over your shoulder at him as he climbed down from atop the desks surface. You smiled as he extended a hand to help you, palm face up. He guided you to step onto the chair before settling on the floor, fingers shifting to interlace with his as you pulled him close, chests bumping. “Good morning beloved.” You hummed.

“I believe it’s past noon.” He commented, earning an eye roll.

“Well then good afternoon.”

“No beloved?”

“You’re being quite the tease for someone who’s slept in—leaving me to my own devices this morning.”

“I can see that didn’t go too well.”

You feigned offence, both hands now in Adrian’s as you stepped back, a mix of a gasp and scoff falling from your lips.

“Someone’s in a mood.” He contemplated the statement, drawing you back in with a light pull in his direction. It used to be alarming how easy it was to get you close, how you didn’t shy away, how you were ready to feel him as long as he’d let you. Your chests bumped again, your hands sliding up his arms and around his neck. “And don’t say its because you woke up alone.”

“Hm.”

“Ah, I know you too well. That means you owe me a kiss.”

“It does?”

“Of course, my intelligence deserves a reward, no?” A grin flickered over his face, fangs flashing as he let his slender arms wrap around your frame, one hand resting between your shoulders blades—urging you even closer, your head tilted and lips meeting his slowly.

“Everything you do deserves a kiss.” He sighed, breath fanning over your face.

“Maybe I’ll hold you to that.”

“I don’t object.”

“Good.” You kissed him again, this time a little harder, a bit more than a greeting. Your fingers curled minimally in his hair, tongue swiping against his bottom lip, a silent ask of permission. He granted it with ease, tasting the berries on your tongue and inhaling the warmth of cinnamon radiating from you. Maybe you had been baking again, he wondered momentarily, lips still moving against yours. You pulled away first, chest rising and falling visibly as you let another smile warm over your features. He was almost a little dazed looking at you, barely noting the strands of hair that fell over his face, your fingers quick to tuck them back behind his ear. “Your hairs messy.” You commented, holding his face in your hands as you leaned back, taking him in. Your smile shifted into something curious, brows pulled inward as your gaze flickered across his face. You studied him, the gears in your brain churning out questions you already had the answer too. “Did you think I’d gone? When you woke up?”

You did know him, far too well.

“For a moment, yes.” He had learned it was better not to lie to you, to hide things at times, yes, but to outright lie left a bitter taste in his mouth (and you’d always figure it out anyways).

“Well I’m sorry for worrying you my love, if I had left the grounds I would’ve written a note, or woken you up even, but I didn’t think about doing that if I wasn’t far.” You explained, eyes full of sincerity. It was so human, something he mimicked, but never obtained in the same way you did.

He nodded at your words, forehead resting on yours.

“But is that not it?”

“What?” He recoiled slightly, unable to hide the surprise that found its way onto his face.

You did know him far too well that this had to be magic, you had to have read his mind and understood something deeper. He still found himself alarmed at this moment, your ability to read him surpassed even that of his mother.

“There’s something else isn’t there? You’re upset about something else.”

“I’m not upset—“

“Adrian,” You warned, his mouth snapped shut, “Please don’t lie to me.” He relented, his shoulders tight with defence dropped as your thumb brushed over the porcelain of his cheek. “But we can talk about this later. Okay?” You knew when to push and when to pull and when to give in to him just as he needed. You smiled up at him, nose nudging his affectionately. Love dripped through your words and danced in the corners of your eyes

Yes, later is fine. Right now he needed to be held.

You let your fingers slip into his hair, toying with it, nails kindly swirling against his skull. You were good at soothing him, words, actions, everything. It all calmed the choppy waters that stirred beneath his rib cage and he melted into you. Adrian let his eyes fall closed as you pulled him into a hug, one hand still tangled in his hair while the other wrapped as best it could almost the expanse of his shoulders. He let his arms hang limp, nose pressing into the side of your neck as he breathed you in. Taking in your scent, not where it hung in the stale castle air, how it lingered on door knobs to forgotten rooms you likely tried to open or dwelled on the various pots and pans.

He took you in from the source, your perfume and rainwater from the previous night washed over his senses, along with that still confusing note of cinnamon. Maybe he’d bring it up later, but for now he wanted to love in the safety of your arms.

#i just wanna hold this half vampire for..hours #alucard x reader #alucard imagine #adrian tepes x reader #adrian tepes imagine #castlevania x reader #castlevania imagine #castlevania #writing

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clanoffetts · 4 years ago

Text

someday. | paz vizsla x fem!reader

Chapter III

masterlist

synopsis: Paz Vizsla finds himself stuck on Dantooine with a broken ship and no credits. Luckily, he finds you, a mechanic that will fix his ship for passage to Hosnian Prime. Over the course of your time together, a courtship blossoms.

warnings/things to note: swearing; reader has hints of PTSD that will be expanded on in further chapters (and those will be tagged with stronger warnings); no use of ‘Y/N’; my fc for Paz is Winston Duke, I don’t describe Paz too much at the moment, but just know that’s who I picture!

word count: 6.4k

karyai - main living room of the covert - a big chamber for talking, resting, and even the last secure stronghold when under attack.

ba’vodu - uncle/aunt

The birds of Yavin IV’s song was calming as you came into full consciousness. The sleep from the night before was much needed, and very refreshing. You opened your eyes and looked to where Paz had been before you’d fallen asleep. He wasn’t there. Neither was your sleep mask. “Kriff!” You flung your body onto your right side, looking away from Paz’s side of the bed.

Shit. Shit. Shit. You’d told him you wouldn't look. Hell, you told him it was impossible for you to look. And here you are, no mask over your eyes. What if he’d been there? After all the time you’d spent convincing him to share the bed with you, that it’d be safe. Sure, you hadn’t actually seen him, but the possibility frightened you. You couldn’t violate him like that, even if it was an accident. You couldn’t live with yourself.

A few minutes of deep breathing later, you got out of bed, and headed into the ‘fresher. You wanted so badly to take another shower, to relax under the water, but you knew it was important to save water, not sure if the covert had water to spare for your journey. You’d have to be content with washing your face and pretending.

You stared in the mirror, into your own eyes. You replayed the night before: the vibroblade that now sat with your stuff, the idea of Paz taking you to his home and meeting his family, learning his traditions. The pure bliss you were in as you fell asleep, and then the violent jerk of the morning’s close call. Your eyes were no longer as tired as they had been when you’d looked at yourself last night.

You threw on jeans and a shirt, and finally left the safety of the ‘fresher. Would Paz be mad about the mask coming off? He was so hesitant as it was, you were terrified that this would push him away, make him realize that there’s too much risk in a relationship with a non-Mando.

“Kebiin’ika?” Paz called as he heard the door to the bedroom open.

“Yeah?”

He stood up and met you halfway between the room and the common area. “How’d you sleep?” He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into a half hug before leading you to the table you’d sat at the night before.

“Pretty good,” you said, taking a seat. “Paz?” He hummed and sat down a bowl of some type of porridge in front of you. “Are you mad at me?”

The helmet snapped up to look at you. “Why would I be mad? If you think you broke the towel rack in the ‘fresher, you haven’t. It’s always been like that.”

“No, Paz,” you said. “About the sleep mask. It came off last night. I’m so sorry, I thought it would stay on. I’m not really a wild sleeper so I don’t know how it happened, but I understand if you’re mad at me-”

“Kebiin’ika,” he says, cutting you off. You suck in a big breath, not realizing how long you’d been rambling. “It’s not that big of a deal to me, it was an accident. You didn’t see my face, right?”

You nodded. “Right.”

“See? No creeds broken,” he says. He can tell you’re still a little shaken up, and moves to lay his large, gloved hand over your small one. “If I didn’t trust you, mesh’la, I would’ve slept on the cot. I knew the mask came off when I woke up this morning, but I trust you enough that I know you wouldn’t use the opportunity of me being asleep to look, even on accident.”

You couldn’t see his face, but you swear you could hear a smile on his face. “Are you sure? I know I didn’t see anything this time, but I would understand if you want me to take the cot from now on.” He ushered you closer to him, his arm around you. It was a bit awkward with all his armor and clothes, but the heart was there. “Kebiin’ika,” he said. “I’m comfortable with sleeping the way we did last night as long as you are. I’m not worried.”

You sighed, leaning into him. The beskar was cold and you just wanted to feel him, his warm skin. “Ok,” you say. “If you’re comfortable, I’m comfortable.”

“Good,” he replies. “Now, why don’t you finish eating while I call the covert. Tell them that I’ll be there shortly to pick up some of our supplies, ok?”

You nodded, and he let you out of his embrace. While spooning the food into your mouth, you watched him at the hull, punching some numbers into his gauntlet and then speaking in what you assumed was Mando’a. It was such a beautiful language, especially coming from Paz’s mouth. And he spoke it with a pride in his voice that he didn’t have when speaking Basic.

“Alright, mesh’la,” he said as you got to the bottom of the bowl. “I’ll be back soon, no more than two hours.”

“Two hours?”

“Yes, two hours,” he laughed. “It may be sooner, but you never know. Mandalorians take a long time to say goodbye.”

You smiled at him. “Alright, have fun,” you say.

“Oh, I will,” he replies. You watched as the mountain of blue beskar exited the ship and mounted the speeder the two of you rode the day before. A lot has changed since then, you thought. Before you knew it, Paz Vizsla was gone and a dirt cloud took his place.

Paz’s ride back to his home didn’t take too long at all. And when he arrived, he spotted Din and Grogu on some rocks outside the entrance.

“C’mon, Grogu,” Din is saying. “You can do it.” Grogu sat on a rock opposite Din, with his eyes closed. In Din’s hand was Grogu’s beskar ball. Grogu and his ball were inseparable.

As Paz dismounted and began walking towards the hangar, Grogu’s eyes shot open and he let out an excited shriek. Paz didn’t speak fifty-year-old-toddler, but he figured it was something along the lines of “ba’vodu!”.

Din turned around, too, and stood. He picked up his little foundling and greeted Paz half way. “How was your evening?”

“Nice,” Paz says. “Yours?”

Din nods. “Mine was ok, but I don’t have a pretty mechanic in my room like you do.”

Paz rolled his eyes. “Din, it’s not like that.”

Grogu made a sound of protest. “Hm,” Din said. “My Jedi son seems to think differently. He’s never wrong about these things…” Din teases.

Paz stops just as they’re about to open the blast doors. “Din, Grogu,” Paz says. “Just between us?”

“Just between us,” Din says, and Grogu babbles.

Paz sighed, was he really doing this? He was. “We’re courting.”

“I knew it!” Din exclaims, and Grogu laughs. “I knew it, Paz. So what’d you give her?”

Paz patted the empty sheath. “Vibroblade.”

“Classic,” Din says. “What will you propose marriage with? Something of her homeworld’s tradition? Or wait and exchange blades that Armorer makes?”

Paz shakes his head, and he’s smiling beneath his bucket. “Maker, Din, I haven’t thought that far ahead.” Though he figured it’d be blades. You didn’t seem too fond of being reminded of Alderaan. “But I’ll put your name in if we need a wedding planner.”

“You better,” Din replies. “Armorer will want to know, too.”

Paz nodded. “I know. I’m not sure I’ll tell her this time. I don’t want word getting out.”

“She won’t tell anyone, you know that.”

“I know, but still,” Paz said, finally punching in the code and opening the doors. “But we’ve got a covert of eavesdroppers.”

There was a child tending to one of his chores just inside, and as soon as he spotted Paz, he practically lunged at him. “Paz!”

“Hey, ad’ika,” Paz says, taking the young kid up onto one of his arms. “I didn’t get to see you yesterday!”

“I know,” he said. “My buir had me at home practicing math. Math! Can you believe it?”

Paz laughed. “Knowing your buir? Yes, yes I can.”

The group walked further inside the winding the halls of the covert, adding new people to their crew as they saw them. Eventually they reached the karyai, and everyone got comfortable on the many cushions, chairs, and sofas littered about the room.

Paz stayed standing. “Sorry, everyone,” he said when he noticed their disappointment that he wasn’t going to be there long. “But I’ve got my end of a deal to hold up, and I don’t want to keep her waiting.” Paz noticed that at the mention of a her, helmets turned to the side, looking at each other, silently gossiping.

“Then come in here, Paz,” Armorer says, at the doorway to her forge. “And we’ll discuss what you need.”

Paz obeyed, making his way through all the Mandalorians relaxing in the karyai. He closed the door behind him, and sat at Armorer’s table. “We’ve compiled some things for your journey,” she says. “It’s not much, but it’s what we have. It’s in the hangar, I’m sure Clan Djarin would be happy to assist you in taking it back to your ship.”

“I’m sure it’s more than enough,” Paz replies. “Thank you, Armorer.”

She nodded. “Now, how happy was your mechanic at being left on the ship for so long yesterday?”

Paz could hear her smirk. “She got bored. Wasn’t there when I got back,” he said. “I almost lost my mind, but she was just in the little town, shopping.”

Armorer let out a soft chuckle. “And you’re trying to tell everyone you aren’t smitten? Maker, Vizsla, I’d think you’d be better with convincing by now.”

Paz sighed. “You’d think.”

Armorer’s stare bore into him. For Mandalorians, it usually wasn’t intimidating when another looked at you through their visor. It was normal. But Armorer’s presence was different, she was intimidating. “Where is your vibroblade?”

Kriff. “It’s right here,” he said, patting the sheath on his left side, where his second vibroblade sat.

“No, not that one,” she said. “The one I forged for you when you donned your helmet. I swear you had it yesterday.”

Well, he might as well tell her at this point. She wouldn’t believe that he’d lost it, this blade had Mandalorian and Vizsla carvings in it, he rarely used it in combat. “Don’t tell anyone this,” Paz said. “I want it to be a secret for now, ok?”

She nodded.

“I gave it to her. The mechanic.”

Armorer sucked in a breath so sharp that her vocoder picked it up. “As a courtship proposal?” Paz nodded. “I wish you both many blessings, many warriors,” she said. Paz didn’t know if you wanted warriors, but Armorer’s blessings were traditional, and carried a lot of weight.

“Thank you, Armorer,” he replies. “I will pass along the message.”

“If you two are courting, then why didn’t you bring her here? Are you still going on your journey?”

Paz nodded. “She has unfinished business in the Hosnian system,” he didn’t tell her what business. It wasn’t his place, and Armorer understood. “We’ll be back, though I’m not sure when.”

“Long hyperspace travel will be good for your relationship.” Armorer entered counselor mode. “Building trust and love.”

Paz always felt a bit awkward when she became a psychologist. So he just nodded. “Anyways, you said the supplies were in the hangar?”

She nodded. “Take care of her, Paz,” she said. They both stood. “This is the Way.”

“This is the Way,” Paz repeated.

Paz exited the Armorer’s workshop. Back in the karyai, some people had gone back to their rooms or to tend to their duties, but many still sat around. “Din?” Paz said to his friend.

“Yeah?”

“You don’t happen to know where Bezza is, do you?”

Din nodded. “Last I saw she was in one of the sparring rooms.” Paz thanked him and headed off down one of the long corridors towards the training rooms.

All the sparring room doors were open except one. Paz opened it gently, and looked inside. Bezza wielded the beskar staff Din had brought back with him. She was sparring with a reprogrammed droid, the only one in the covert. Paz watched with pride as she jabbed at the droid, careful not to hurt it too much. There were still children that would need to learn from sparring with the machine.

As she landed a final blow, the droid declared her the winner, and she backed off. Paz clapped from his place at the door. “That was very impressive,” he said. “You’ve gotten used to the armor quite well.”

“Paz!” She dropped the staff and walked towards her friend. “No one told me you were here.”

“That’s probably best,” Paz said. “I need to tell you something, and I need you to not repeat it, ok?”

Bezza nodded. “Ok. But if you tried to bring a Loth-cat in again, I’m not making any promises.”

Paz laughed. “It’s not a Loth-cat. It’s about my girl.”

“Your girl?”

Paz nodded. “We’re courting.”

Bezza threw her arms around her ba’vodu. “Paz that’s wonderful!” Their beskar sang as he patted Bezza on the back. When she finally let go she said, “Are you guys staying here? When do you think you’ll marry? I know Mandalorian courtships tend to not last long, but she’s not a Mandalorian so-”

Paz cut off her rambling by saying, “I don’t know. Like I told Din, I haven’t thought that far ahead yet.”

Bezza laughed. “Of course you haven’t. How many people have you told, Paz? You know if you tell the wrong person, your courtship will be the topic at many dinner tables tonight.”

“I know,” Paz replied. “Only you, Din, and Armorer know.”

“Ok,” she said. “So I take it you’re not going to stay here?”

Paz shook his head. “We’re off to Hosnian Prime as soon as I get back with the supplies.” Somehow, Paz could sense Bezza’s disappointment. He wanted so badly to be there for her, help her through her losses, but he’d made a promise to you. A Mandalorian’s honor was their everything. “I’m not sure how long we’ll be there, but we’ll be coming back here. Maybe even to stay.”

“What’s even on Hosnian Prime?”

Paz sighed. He wanted to tell her, to give her a detailed reason so maybe she felt better. But, again, it wasn’t his place. “She has some business to take care of, Bez.”

She nodded, somewhat satisfied. “Can I walk with you to the hangar?” Paz nodded and they left the sparring room. All the way there, Bezza asked questions in typical teenage fashion. What’s her name? What’s she like? What color is her hair? And Paz answered them all. He figured you wouldn’t mind, and they weren’t too personal. All her questions reminded Paz of just how young she was. Other Mandalorians would understand not to ask those questions, just as Bezza would, in time.

In the hangar were Din and Grogu and that kriffing ball. Din had already loaded the speeder bikes with the fuel and food, and was now just killing time with his son. “Din!” Paz called. “I’m just about ready.”

Paz turned to Bezza. “When I get back we’ll start a plan for your training. There’s still a lot to get used to in the armor, especially with the jetpack.”

“Ok,” she said. “Hurry back, alright? And be safe!” Paz and Bezza exchanged a few more goodbyes, and he promised to pass on her hello to you.

Finally, Paz and Din had mounted the speeder bikes. Grogu sat in a carrier on Din’s chest, obviously excited to feel the wind whip around his long ears. The men had unspokenly made it a race, revving their engines and attempting to pass each other without knocking their cargo loose.

You sat outside the ship, taking in the fresh air as the Mandalorians arrived in a cloud of dust, Mando’a, and a baby’s shriek. A baby? You thought.

You got on your feet and approached the speeders. To your surprise, the Mandalorian in unpainted beskar greeted you by name. Quite a lot kinder than the stare he’d met you with when you’d first arrived. “Hello,” you said. “It’s nice to meet you.” Then your eyes finally dropped from the helmet to the carrier on his chest. “Who’s this?”

“My son,” the Mando said. “His name is Grogu.”

You smiled at the baby. “Hello, Grogu,” you said, and introduced yourself to him. Grogu’s tiny little arms reached out for you, and with Mando's permission, you picked him up. “You’re a tiny little thing, aren’t you, Grogu?” He babbled excitedly.

The two of you stood back as Din and Paz began loading the supplies onto the ship. “Your dad is very strong, Grogu,” you tell him as Din lifts a large crate off the bike and into the cargo hold. “Are you going to be strong like him?” Grogu gives you a strong response. This kid has to be a handful, you thought. Grogu stayed gripped onto you, his three little fingers wrapped around your one, gurgling and babbling like he made all the sense in the world. You, of course, humored him, and had a deep conversation about the inflation of credits as the shift from Imperial credits to New Republic credits took place.

Eventually, the men were done, the ship was loaded and refueled. “Alright, Grogu,” you say. “I think your dad will be wanting you back.” You placed a kiss to the top of his odd green head, and attempted to hand him over to the Mando. Grogu had other ideas. His fingers stayed gripped on the back of your t-shirt.

“Grogu,” Din said. “We have to go. Come on.”

You laughed at the little baby, amazed at how he’d become so attached to you in such little time. “Go on, hon,” you coax. “Your uncle and I will be back soon, I promise.” His big, dark eyes looked up at you, and then he allowed you to pass his little body to his father, who fastened him into the carrier.

“Safe travels, you two,” Mando said, and attached the bike Paz rode to his own, and him and Grogu were off.

Finally, you were able to give Paz a hug. “Ready, kebiin’ika?” he asked.

“Yeah. Let me call Leia before we go,” you say. “I forgot to this morning.”

“Ok, I’ll be waiting in the cockpit whenever you’re ready.” He turned around and disappeared onto the ship.

You held the holoprojector in front of you, anxious. Surely Leia would want to see you, right? After all your time together…

You sat the projector on a rock and sat down in front of it. You punched in the numbers Leia had sent you a while ago, and waited. Finally, a young girl answered. “May I ask who is calling?” You told her your name. “And who are you calling for?”

“Leia,” you said, and then cringed. “Uh, her royal highness.” You’d never really grasped the royal protocol.

The girl looked closely. “Is the princess expecting you?”

“Uh, not really,” you said. “But we fought in the Rebellion together. She gave me this number, told me to call if I needed her.”

The girl nodded, and walked out of frame. Hopefully, she’d return with Leia. She did return, but no princess in sight. “Her royal highness will meet with you shortly.” And then she was gone again.

You sat looking around at the trees, taking in your last minutes on a planet for some time. And even when you got to Hosnian Prime, it would be way different. Hosnian Prime was busy, unlike Dantooine and Yavin IV.

“Finally!” said a voice. Leia’s. She stood in holo form on the rock, an elegant white dress covered her form and her hair was in two braids down her shoulders. “I’ve been wondering when I’d hear from you.”

“Leia!” you exclaimed. “I’ve wanted to call, but you know how I felt when the war was won…I wasn’t sure you’d want to hear from me.”

She frowned. “Oh, stop that,” she said. “I’ll always want to hear from you. I’m sorry it took me so long to get on the line, Korrie is quite protective of me.”

“I understand,” you smiled. “You are a very important person, your royal highness.”

Leia laughed. “Now, what did I tell you back on Alderaan about formal titles?”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re a normal person when you’re with me,” you said, rolling your eyes. “I take it you’re a bit exhausted with decorum at the moment?”

She nodded. “And it doesn’t help that Threepio is the decorum police, either.” The two of you shared a laugh at the droid’s expense. You didn’t know how Leia could stand C-3PO all the time. “Enough with my complaining, are you ok? Is there something you need?”

“Well, I was calling to see if you’d receive me on Hosnian?” you asked. “I want to catch up with you, maybe even a few friends from the old days?”

Leia smiled. “Of course I’ll receive you! When are you leaving? And where from?”

“Yavin IV,” you say. “And hopefully as soon as I hang up with you, if that’s ok?”

She nodded. “That’d be great. I’ll have Korrie send you the coordinates. I can’t wait to see you!” Leia had a way of making anyone feel comfortable, and you couldn’t wait to be in her full presence again. You exchanged goodbyes, and Leia disappeared from the rock.

Back on the ship, you grabbed a fruit bar from the kitchen and sat in the cockpit. “How was your princess?” Paz asked as he copied the coordinates from your holopad.

“Good,” you replied. “I had no reason to be anxious, really.”

Paz put a gloved hand over yours on the armrest. “I’m glad it’s working out, mesh’la.”

“What’s that word mean? You’ve been calling me that all day.”

His thumb rubbed circles on the back of your hand. “It means ‘beautiful’,” he says.

“Mesh’la,” you repeat. “It’s a beautiful word, no wonder it means beautiful.” Paz chuckled a little at your awe.

His hand left yours and landed on the controls. “Ready to head out?” You nodded, mouth too full to properly respond, and the take off sequence was activated. The ship rose out of the clearing, and you watched as Yavin IV grew smaller beneath you. You saw a building off in the distance, it looked half underground, with a large hangar at the front.

“Is that your home?” you ask, pointing out at the structure.

Paz nodded. “Indeed it is,” he says.

“That was part of the Rebel base once,” you say, remembering your time here. “I didn’t spend too much time on that part, though. There was a main hangar a little farther down, but after the war Leia had a lot of it removed, so the wildlife could return to normal,” you say. “Guess not all of it was taken.”

The ship finally reached the atmosphere and Paz guided the ship through it with grace. The jump to hyperspace was made, and the ship was on autopilot for the next three days.

Paz turned to you in his chair. “We live in a rebel base now?”

“Indeed you do,” you say. “I think a lot of that building was quarters for officers and stuff. I’ll bet Leia can tell you when we arrive.”

“You want me to come with you to meet her?”

You looked at him, a little confused. “Of course I do,” you tell him. “I don’t know how long I’ll be there and I’m sure that a princess has room to spare. Besides, it’ll do you some good to sleep on a proper bed for a few nights.”

“Are you sure, kebiin’ika? Mandalorians aren’t greeted too kindly.”

“Maybe not in the Outer Rim,” you say. “But that far into the Core? And a guest of Princess Leia’s? I’m sure it'll be ok.”

He nodded. “Ok, then. I’ll come with you.” You smiled at him, wishing so badly to smile at his face and not his helmet. You took his hand in yours, stood up, and led him to the little common area. There was a small sofa pushed against one of the walls, and you motioned for him to sit.

“I’ll be right back,” you say, and retreat back to the cockpit. When you return, Paz is sat on the sofa, still as can be. It was still a little creepy, how he could just sit there. You held up your holopad. “First thing to know about dating me is I need designated snuggle and holodrama time.”

He laughed. “Is this a common thing or just a kebiin’ika thing?”

You sat down next to him, a little confused that he was wondering if cuddling and watching holos was common. “Am I your first girlfriend, Paz?”

“If I say yes will you think I’m weird?”

“No, I won’t think you’re weird.”

“Then yes,” he said. You looked at him, feeling a wave of sadness. Had this man been cuddled ever? Hugged? Loved? You cared for him so much already, and you wanted him to feel those things.

“Well, I’m not sure if it’s a me thing, but it’s an important thing,” you laugh, setting the holopad up to project against the blank wall of the ship. A show about a Jedi and a Twi’lek healer’s unrequited love played on the wall, a slight silver hue brought by the metal of the ship. You moved to cuddle against him, but the armor was stubborn.

“Could you, like, take some of this off?” You say, gesturing at the metal.

He feigned surprise. “You haven’t even taken me out, mesh’la, and you expect me to strip?”

You rolled your eyes. “Just lose some of it so I can cuddle you.” He obeyed, the cuirass and pauldrons going first, and then the gauntlets and gloves. He was left in his fly suit, made of a coarse weave fabric. It wasn’t the most comfortable, but it would do. You moved his arm around you as you settled into his chest. You could tell he wasn’t too sure what to do. “You’re warm,” you sigh.

“Sorry, mesh’la,” he says.

“Why are you sorry? It’s nice. Hyperspace gets cold,” you tell him. He was a little tense at first, he wasn’t used to this, he really hadn’t been properly cuddled since before he lost his buire so long ago.

Paz looked down at you, your head resting against him as you took in the predictable plot of the show. You were relaxed, almost like earlier that morning when he’d woken up. The mask had been gone, and your eyes had gently fluttered in your sleep. Paz felt a tightness in his chest, a feeling he’d been having a lot since you’ve been around. It’s gotten more and more intense, especially as you curled yourself into him. Your touch was burning into his skin in an amazing way, and he knew he’d be able to feel it long after you’d get up. He repeated your it’s nice in his head. No one had ever told him that touching him was nice. In fact, most people hated the touch of a Mandalorian. If they even lived to hate it.

As the drama went to an ad for some kind of Bantha milk, Paz felt you move to look up at him. “Paz?”

“Hmm?”

“I know you can’t tell me what your Mando friend looks like under his helmet,” you say. “But can you tell me how he fits his ears in the helmet?”

Paz laughed. “What?”

“Well, if his ears are anything like his son’s, I’d imagine it’s hard.”

He threw his head back in a bellow of laughter. “Mesh’la, my friend and his son aren’t the same species. Grogu is a foundling.”

“A foundling?”

He finally recovered from his laughter, and his breath steadied. “Yeah, Mandalorians take in children who’ve lost their parents. My friend was a foundling once, and his son is a foundling.”

“Oh,” you said. “Well that explains the ears, I guess. You weren’t a foundling were you?” You remembered him saying something about Vizslas being important on Mandalore.

He shakes his head. “No,” he says. “The Vizsla line goes as far back into Mandalorian history as I can trace. But most importantly, Tarre Vizsla, who was a Jedi, created the Darksaber. Whoever wields the dark saber is the Mand’alor, our ruler.”

“Who is the Mand’alor now?” you ask.

He shakes his head. “There isn’t one. Mandalore isn’t the same as it was, it hasn’t been in a very long time. Before I was born, even.”

“Well, you’re a Vizsla aren’t you? Shouldn’t you wield it?”

He laughs a little. “That’s not exactly how it works, mesh’la. Well, it worked like that for a while, but now you must win the saber in combat. Except no one knows where the saber is.” His voice had gotten sad, and he was running his right hand over his left while they sat on your back, some kind of self-soothing. “Besides,” he says, “There’s a lot of Vizslas out there I’m sure, and I don’t want to be a king. That is not the path that I follow.”

“I understand. It all becomes...a bit much,” you agree. Leia had offered you multiple positions on multiple committees in the new Senate, all dealing with labor laws and droids with a bunch of political nonsense you didn’t care to wade through. Not to mention having to represent the voice of mechanics all over the galaxy. No. Too much stress.

“Kebiin’ika,” Paz says. “As much as I like this old, lumpy sofa, don’t you think we’d be more comfy laying in bed?”

“I’m starting to think you’re a mind reader, Vizsla,” you say. The two of you awkwardly untangle in a mess of limbs and beskar clangs as you accidentally collide with his cuirass that lay on the floor. “Sorry,” you say, moving his armor up onto the sofa and off of the floor.

“Don’t be,” he reassured. “Beskar is practically invincible.”

The two of you made it into the bedroom, you set your holopad up properly to project onto the blank white wall ahead of the bed, there for this reason exactly. The show was brighter now, and clearer. It was technically late afternoon by Yavin IV time, but in hyperspace it was hard to tell. Paz got rid of the armor on his lower body, the codpiece, thighs and knees, and shins. He also kicked off his boots.

He looked so beautifully mundane. Doing something that he’d done a million times at this point, probably, and he was an expert. Could do with his eyes closed. And you loved it, you wondered if his brow furrowed under the helmet when he had to prod a clasp a little harder, or if he let out a soft huff when a piece was finally removed.

He climbed onto the bed and motioned for you to sit between his legs. Kriff, his legs were big.

You settled between his legs, back against his chest. His hands sat awkwardly on his thighs. “You know you can touch me, right?” you say, moving his hands to lay around your middle.

“I have to remind myself, mesh’la,” he says. “You’re not a quick fuck. You’re someone I want to be slow with, I’m just not sure how to go about it.” You were a bit surprised at how blunt he was, but honestly? You appreciated it. He wouldn’t be playing games with you.

You squeezed his hand. “We will go however slow as you want, alright? And don’t be afraid of me, ok? You can ask me anything.”

“I know, cyare, and I’m grateful for that,” he says softly. He wanted to kiss the top of your head so bad. He’d seen it in holos before, but never really understood the appeal until now.

At some point, you’d fallen asleep in the Mandalorian’s arms. It wasn’t until an hour later that he woke you up. “Kebiin’ika?” He’s whispering as much as the vocoder will let him. His voice is deep in your ear, and briefly becomes a part of your dream until you finally wake up.

“How long was I out?” You ask, sitting up and stretching your arms out in front of you.

He stood up, stretching his arms, too. “About an hour, I think. I dozed a bit, too.”

“I’m hungry,” you complain. He agrees, and you’re off to the kitchen. You start making sandwiches with a few of the vegetables you knew he’d bought back on Dantooine. You smiled at them, filled with a bit of nostalgia. That greenhouse of Aliria’s was always a peaceful place.

Paz is doing the same, though he’s making two sandwiches. You presume it’s because he’s such a large man, and such a strong man too. When you had relaxed into his chest, he was comfortable, a layer of fat that told you he took care of himself, and underneath you knew were strong, hardened muscles.

“Paz?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you want to sit with our backs to each other?” you ask. “So we can eat together instead of in shifts?” He nods, finishing up his sandwiches. You grab your plates and make your way to the sofa. He moves his armor back onto the floor a bit clumsily, and has to remind you that beskar is strong. He’s facing to the right, you to the left, backs together.

“You can lean back on me, cyare,” he says, and you smile at the switch of the nickname. It was kind of nice, not knowing which endearment would envelop you when he opened his mouth. You hear a click and hiss, sounds you’d heard the night before, and then the clunk of his helmet on the ship’s floor.

“I forgot to tell you earlier,” he says between bites. “Armorer and Bezza said to tell you hello.”

You remembered who Armorer was, but your brow furrowed, trying to recall where you’d heard the second name. “Bezza is the girl who you bought the journal for, yeah?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says. “I hope you don’t mind my telling her about us. I’m the closest thing she has to family at the moment.”

You smile. “Of course it’s alright, Paz,” you say. “I’d love to meet her. She sounds very sweet.”

Paz felt a wave of joy rush over him. Bezza was very special to him, even more so now. And now you were special to him, too, and he wanted nothing more than for you two to get along. “If I would’ve known I would’ve brought her with me to the ship instead of my friend,” he said. He had to catch himself before saying Din’s name, knowing that Din was very particular about his name. Bezza, on the other hand, was a more modern Mando. “Maybe once I teach you to use that vibroblade, I can teach you how to wield a staff. Then you two could spar.”

“I don’t know, Paz,” you say. “I’m sure you’re a fantastic teacher, but I don’t see myself holding my own against a Mandalorian in combat.”

He laughed a little. “I’ll train you the Mandalorian way. One day, mesh’la, you will hold your own.”

A silence followed, you could hear the crunch of the chips he’d put in his sandwich as he bit.

“Is Bezza your foundling now?”

Paz swallowed his bite. “Maybe if she was younger I’d take her in, but she’s practically an adult. I wouldn’t want to insult her by insinuating she still needs caring for.”

“Everyone needs caring for,” you say, leaning your head back against him. “I’m twenty-six and I need caring for, emotionally anyways. I’m not sure how old you are, but I’m sure you do, too.”

He wasn’t at all shocked that you were twenty-six. He was, however, shocked that his age didn’t ever come up. “I’m forty-three,” he said, hoping that wouldn’t scare you. It didn’t seem to, so he continued. “And I guess you’re right, but still, I can care for her without taking her in.”

“I guess,” you said, and decided to let the topic of Bezza rest for a bit. “Do you think you’ll ever take in a foundling?”

“Yes,” he said. “I’d like to father some kids as well, but also take in foundlings. Not only is it important to the Tribe, but I love kids. That’s why I’m their teacher whenever I’m not out hunting.”

“That’s sweet, Paz,” you tell him. “I’d like a kid, too, I think. Though, it scares me. Making a person inside my body for almost a year.”

“Mandalorians say to train your sons to be strong but your daughters to be stronger,” he says. “I’m sure you can see why. Having children is important, it’s even in the Mandalorian wedding vows: ‘we will raise warriors’.”

You smile up at the ceiling, picturing you and Paz having a wedding. Some weird mix of Mandalorian and Alderaanian culture, exchanging Mandalorian vows. Maybe it was a bit early to be thinking about this, but you didn’t care.

You watched as Paz cleaned the plates from lunch. He volunteered to take your plate, and now he stood at the sink, scrubbing away the residue of the condiments and components of your lunches. Again, he looked so beautifully mundane, gloves gone, revealing his dark skin to you. Through the bubbles of soap you saw small pink scars littering the top of his hands. He scrubbed away with the brush, working diligently. Again you wondered what kind of face he makes when he concentrates. Does he stick his tongue out a little? Bite on the inside of his lip?

You thought back to the wedding you’d put together in your mind. You thought about how after those vows were exchanged you’d get to see the face he makes not only when he concentrates, but when he’s happy or frustrated, too.

He was such a mystery, but also easy to read. It confused you in the best way possible, and all you wanted was to read chapter after chapter of Paz Vizsla until you got to the part where you’d get to see his face, kiss his face, talk to his eyes rather than a visor. Someday, you told yourself. Someday.

tag list (send me an ask or reply and i’ll add you!!) - @remmysbounty

#paz vizla x reader #paz vizsla x reader #paz vizla #paz vizsla #paz vizsla x you #star wars #star wars fanfic #Star Wars fanfiction #the mandalorian #mandalorian x reader

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artificialqueens · 4 years ago

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Me and You Together, 4/10 (Taywhora) - Ortega

fic summary: The cardinal rule of having flatmates is that you Do Not Catch Feelings For Your Flatmates, because everything inevitably goes to shit and gets made horrifically awkward. A’whora and Tayce both know this, but being in first year of uni and making good decisions have never really gone hand in hand.

a/n: fam this response is crazy it really is…thank u all so much for the love, kudos and comments, i’m so sorry if i’ve not managed to reply to urs yet but know that i’ve read them all and cherish every one and i will get round to replying and yelling some love and thanks at u soon!!! pls enjoy this chapter in which A'whora does not possess the flat’s shared brain cell at any point. that being said, i wish all the readers of this fic a very pleasant italicised ‘oh’ xo

last chapter: January-Tayce and A’whora still had unfinished business from a night out and a hungover morning in December.

this chapter: October- The gang make plans for their first year together, Tia gives everyone plans for the evening, and A'whora has a realisation that will change the dynamic of her friendship with Tayce forever.

***

“Bimini, what is it you’re actually doing?”

A’whora’s intrigued by the way her flatmate’s sitting on the sofa: legs crossed, notepad in one hand and a cigarette in the other, and looking deep in thought. They’ve not long since stretched over the smoke detector with a sock, having long since established nobody in the flat minds them smoking indoors as long as the windows are open. Lawrence is beside them on the other end of the sofa having been to all the lectures that’re required of her already today and has got a bright pink, blue and purple-flecked ball of yarn hanging from two knitting needles, with which she seems to be knitting some sort of cosy accessory. It’s a wholesome picture that’s playing out in front of A’whora, one that’s miles away from the raucous, drunk nights they’ve all shared in the first month of uni so far.

“Okay, here’s what it is,” Bimini starts, clicking their long nails together. “I am making us a freshers bucket list, and I want your input.”

“Ooh!” Lawrence perks up beside them, and A’whora, interest piqued, picks up the bowl of pasta, butter and cheese she’s spent all of five minutes making and crosses the room to sit beside her flatmates.

She knows it’s only been a month so far, but she really loves everyone she’s living with. For a start, there are four of them that take classes at the art college (the ‘art hoes’, as Tayce calls them), so they all get to walk to lectures together and hang about between classes and workshops with each other depending on how their days are going. Bimini is almost always in the flat, with not a lot of contact hours making up their journalism degree, so they’re a comforting presence for A’whora to come home to at whatever hour of the day, always asking how she is and always offering to make her coffee. Tia is sweet and funny (if ever-so-slightly grating to her at first) and they’ve bonded over being the only two flatmates seemingly able to keep the place clean and tidy. Lawrence is endearing and big-hearted, if A’whora spends half her life hoping that her next prank isn’t involving her in some way (Ellie is usually the butt of them). Ellie herself is one of A’whora’s closest flatmates; they’ll often stay up half the night finishing prototypes or assignments together, all while watching a film which they have spookily similar taste in- they’ve agreed on 101 and 102 Dalmatians, Hocus Pocus, and The Wizard of Oz so far.

And then there’s Tayce, who A’whora thinks is both the absolute carbon copy of herself and yet also so different, the yin to her yang. Tayce has been her closest friend in the flat since day one when she booted the door to her room down and dragged her out of her emotional stupor, and that’s really what’s set the tone for the rest of their friendship; Tayce, upbeat and motivating, constantly and infectiously helping A’whora feel the same way even when she doesn’t want to go out, or doesn’t feel like dragging herself out of her room for a chill flat night with the others, or even when she just feels like a heap of shit. She’s such a fun and positive person to be around, relentlessly optimistic and goofy, and she brings out that side of A’whora too. As opposed to during sixth form and high school, where she’d put up a front to make sure nobody fucked with her, A’whora finds that at uni she can be the person she truly is and let her guard down a little.

This includes being open about her sexuality for the first time ever. She’s out to her family (for the better or worse), but nobody else back home knows (not even her friends) and she wants to keep it that way for now. But at uni things are different- nobody knows her here, nobody has these preconceived ideas of who she is and who she has to be, so she’d taken the plunge and been open about everything. None of the others had cared of course, in fact they’d all been too excited about the fact there’s not a single straight person in their flat comprised of four lesbians (Tayce, Lawrence, Tia and A’whora), one bi (Ellie) and one pan (Bimini).

“What’ve you got so far?” A’whora asks Bimini, sitting down on the sofa opposite her two flatmates.

Bimini reads off their notepad. “Casino night, bottomless brunch…get the train down to Newcastle, have a big night out, stay out all night an’ get the first train home-”

“Christ, that’ll be a challenge for me, you know I get sleepy around midnight,” Lawrence chuckles.

Bimini shrugs. “We’ll just get you an IV drip of Ellie’s Monster, you’ll be alright.”

“What else’ve you got?”

“That’s it so far.”

A’whora spears a pasta spiral, tilts her head in thought as she eats it. “Get drunk in a lecture.”

“Aw, good one!” Lawrence cries enthusiastically. Bimini, for their part, frowns with disapproval.

“Wait, no! Not a good one. Not a good one at all. It’s alright for you art school bitches, you’ve got some lectures together and you can coordinate, where does that leave me n’ Tia?”

“I guess that leaves you…downing a bottle of five pound chardonnay on the back bench of a lecture hall like a tramp with a drinking problem,” Lawrence shrugs, A’whora yelping out a laugh as Bimini shoves Lawrence with their foot.

Just then, there’s movement in the hall and as A’whora turns around she’s greeted by the sight of a tired-looking Tayce and Ellie walking into the kitchen. They shrug off their coats and take off their shoes and dump their bags on the kitchen table with a huff before they walk over to the others. Tayce spreads herself out over the sofa that A’whora’s sitting on, thudding her feet onto her lap without asking permission, to which A’whora instantly pushes them off her and gets a glare and a smirk in return.

“Lawrie, are you knitting?” Ellie laughs, sitting on the arm of the sofa beside her.

“Yeah? And?”

Ellie snorts in amusement. “Just didn’t realise we were living with a wee granny.”

“Well actually, bawbag! I was in the middle of making you a scarf because I can’t stand to listen to you talking shite about how you’re cold every time we leave the flat, but I can leave it if you want,” Lawrence explains. A’whora thinks it’s funny how Ellie backtracks immediately; she can’t tell if she’s blushing or just out of breath from scaling their block’s stairs. Bimini gains control of the conversation, tilting their head in intrigue.

“How were your lectures, huns?”

“Shit, thanks for asking,” Tayce groans, thudding her head down dramatically against the sofa cushions. “I don’t know, I just can’t concentrate when I’m getting talked at for an hour at a time. I need to be doing stuff, you know?”

“Feel that,” Ellie joins in, deflated. A’whora can sympathise- she loves the practical elements of her course, but not so much the lectures. She’s glad she shares a lot of them with Ellie, and the two of them can dick about and text each other and doodle designs in their notebooks while keeping one ear on whoever’s speaking.

“Well if you want to be doing something, you can help us with this,” Bimini suggests, explaining the bucket list they’ve been making.

The girls get settled and the ideas start to flow, Lawrence putting her speakers on for background noise as they all come up with new and increasingly more chaotic exploits. Ellie suggests trying every cocktail in Levels which gets scribbled down into Bimini’s notepad, and Tayce suggests going to Levels sober, which doesn’t get afforded the same appreciation. A’whora comes up with crashing the catered halls for breakfast one day, which they all agree is a good idea but the chances of it actually happening are low considering the earliest riser in the flat is Tayce and even she doesn’t waken up til half nine on a weekend.

“What’re some clubs we’ve not been to yet?” Bimini asks, shrugging. “Could put those down, try an’ visit every one in the city?”

Lawrence snorts derisively. “You go to Underground if you want your phone stolen, Velvet if you want to be bullied by fifteen year olds in the toilets, and Crystal if you want to subject yourself to painful misogyny and probably some light sexual assault.”

“So none of those, then,” Bimini murmurs.

“Those are all really het as well, though,” Ellie wrinkles her nose up in distaste. Then her face lights up as she gets an idea. “Oh! Put down Pride in July.”

“Nice one,” Bimini nods as they scribble down Ellie’s suggestion, the others making little hums of approval.

The conversation goes on for quite some time. Halfway through it Tayce seems to decide she’s bored of lying down and instead moves to sit on the floor between A’whora’s legs, asking her to play with her hair. They’ll do this sometimes- it’s a routine they fall into, A’whora being able to style Tayce’s endlessly long, straight hair and Tayce finding the whole thing therapeutic. They have a lot of little routines like this: they’ll sit close together on the sofa during a flat movie night and take turns leaning on each others’ shoulders, spontaneously give each other hugs at random points throughout the day, trace patterns into each others’ palms when the other seems stressed.

It’s nice. A’whora’s never really had a friendship like this, soft and caring and kind. In school her group was the kind that made catty jokes about each other then buffered them with a “love you!” afterwards and took kissy-face group selfies only to bitch about each other on a private group chat mere hours later. If it was a wolfpack then it was rabid and cannibalistic, and it had seemed like a full-time job ensuring she was never the runt of it. What she’s got with all her flatmates now- especially Tayce- makes her feel like she can finally breathe.

“What about the Centurion Challenge?” Lawrence suggests with a small gasp, breaking A’whora’s reverie as she expertly twirls Tayce’s hair into a loose and chunky French plait.

“Jesus Christ, Lawrence,” Ellie mutters in amusement.

“What’s the Centurion Challenge?” Bimini asks, pulling a face.

Lawrence gives a blythe shrug as she elaborates. “A hundred shots in a hundred minutes.”

A’whora ruins Tayce’s braid in shock, her hair untwisting itself from the braid as if it’s outraged too. The cry she gives joins in harmony with that of Tayce’s and Bimini’s. “A hundred shots? You’d fucking die!”

“Not of vodka! Obviously not of vodka! I know we all have one communal brain cell between us but Christ, can one of yous not use it?!” Lawrence protests. “It’s a hundred shots of beer. Don’t shit yourselves.”

“Aw, well that’s alright then,” Bimini pipes up sarcastically. “What’s actually wrong with Scottish people? Is your breastmilk spiked with whiskey? What d’you get instead of Cow and Gate formula, just cocaine?"

“Actually, a hundred shots of beer sounds more doable to me,” Tayce shrugs, and A’whora can feel her relax against her lap.

“I’d need to change it, I can’t stand beer,” A’whora considers. Ellie cocks her head in consideration.

“Well what alcohol do you like?”

“Fucking none of it,” A’whora laughs. “Cocktails. Vodka cokes. Anything where there’s juice to cover it up.”

Tayce twists her head to look up at her, a little twinkle of mischief in her eye. “I think the challenge ceases to be a challenge when it’s reduced to one hundred watered down shots of Woo Woo, Rory.”

As the others blurt out a laugh A’whora glares down at Tayce, but she can’t help but break out into a giggle too when Tayce grabs her knee and gives it a playful wobble, letting her know she was only joking without even having to say a thing.

A’whora’s not sure what time it is when she hears the front door swing shut and Tia emerges from the hallway, her long hair all messed up from the seemingly ever-present wind outside and almost obscuring the bright smile plastered on her face. “Hey, huns!”

“Oi oi,” Tayce greets her from her position on the floor. “What’s got you so smiley?”

“Nooothing,” Tia smirks, dragging the word out playfully. “Just got an invite to the night out of a very cute girl in my MT society…and she said you guys can all come too. Pres at her flat and then out to The Avenue. Evening plans sorted?”

“Oh, love that!” Bimini gives an enthusiastic clap. “Go on then, who’s the girl? Whose night are we crashing?”

“Her name’s Veronica,” Tia smiles bashfully. “She’s so lovely. Honestly, she wouldn’t mind you coming! She’s got one of the big flats over at Gourock Court so it’s not like it’ll be packed.”

“You don’t exactly want to go to a party that’s not going to be packed,” Ellie screws up her nose. She looks unimpressed and her tone is flat. “And even if it is, I don’t know if I’m in the mood for a flat party with a ton of new people, Tia.”

A’whora’s face drops and she locks eyes with Lawrence simultaneously, who’s got an equally incredulous look on her face. “Els, are you unwell? You never turn down a night out.”

Ellie shrugs quietly, not giving much away on her face. Tia, obviously keen to move to the girl she’s crushing on, carries on persuading her. “C’mon, Eleanor, don’t be such a fucking…square! It’s the musical theatre society, we’re just a walking Pride festival who all happen to be able to hold a tune. There’s loads of fit lesbians?”

“Well if I wasn’t convinced before, I sure am now,” Tayce purrs, a little smile appearing on her lips and a cheeky twinkle in her eyes. A’whora feels her laugh come out weakly. She doesn’t know why, but an odd, uncomfortable feeling lodges itself in her gut. She can’t quite put her finger on what exactly it is or why it’s put itself there.

“And there’s gonna be so many musicals on the playlist!” Tia continues to insist, despite being met with Ellie’s sour face. “I know you’ll love it! They’d probably even play stuff from Shrek if you got them drunk enough.”

A’whora can’t help but scrunch up her nose in distaste. “Hey, I’m only coming if they play fucking…normal people music as well. I’m not gonna be sat in a room with twenty white kids trying to rap to Hamilton or whatever the fuck it is.”

Tia rolls her eyes, plants her hands on her hips in exasperation. “Calm down, A’whora, you’ll still get all the top 40 dance-pop shit you love so much.”

“To be honest, it sounds class. And The Avenue’s always good,” Bimini cuts in calmly. A’whora does have to agree with that. They’ve not been there in a while- the bar across the road from the city’s most popular LGBT club- and its selection of early 00s pop princess tracks combined with its deal of two vodka mixers and a shot for a fiver makes it a guaranteed good night out.

“Well it seems like we’re all down, even if this stroppy cow isn’t,” Tia smiles happily, sticking her tongue out at Ellie for good measure. Ellie finally heaves a world-weary sigh, rolling her eyes dramatically as she relents.

“Ugh, fine! Fine, but this Verruca or whatever the hell she’s called better be the hottest bitch on the planet for you to drag us all out with your MT weirdos, Tia Maria,” she grumps. Tia ignores her bad mood and lets out a cheer which the others join in with, and A’whora resolves to interrogate Ellie about her Bitter Betty attitude later on. Preferably when they’re both drunk. That always makes things easier.

In the melee of excitement, Tayce twists round from her position on the carpet, folds her arms and rests them on top of A’whora’s thighs. “Right. You need to come help me choose an outfit if we’re going out. I need to look fit.”

A’whora smiles with pride. “Ooh, personal stylist duties? I’m honoured.”

“Well I’m hardly gonna ask Tia, am I?” Tayce giggles quietly, and A’whora joins in like it’s a little secret they’re sharing. “Or Ellie. She’d just send me out in one of her bodysuit/skirt combos. I swear to God that girl is like Marge bloody Simpson. Open up her wardrobe and she’ll have twenty sets of the same outfit. Serial killer behaviour, that.”

At this point A’whora is laughing so much that it draws the attention of the others, who eye them with suspicious stares. “What the hell’s so funny?”

A’whora gives Tayce a mischievous look. “Tayce just called Ellie a serial killer.”

Tayce yelps in outrage at having been called out, and as Ellie narrows her eyes Tayce leaps up from the floor and tugs A’whora off of the sofa with her. “That’s taking it out of context, you absolute hound! Come on, help me pick something.”

Tayce’s fingers stay curled around A’whora’s hand all the way down the corridor and into her bedroom. It’s a feeling that A’whora likes because it makes her feel close to her friend, and Tayce taking her hand is like an affirmation and a reassurance all in one; that she likes her, that their friendship has reached the level where hand-holding has become acceptable, that A’whora is worthy of being liked, of being someone’s friend- their real, proper friend. The validation sets her heart off like a flare. It’s nice to feel wanted.

A’whora perches on the edge of Tayce’s bed as she scrapes the coat hangers in her wardrobe and throws outfits onto the bed like a tornado, each more gorgeous than the last and all ones Tayce would look stunning in. That’s something that always strikes A’whora about Tayce; just how beautiful she is, how absolutely blessed with the God-given good genes. The way she looks serene and ethereal without makeup, walking to lectures in the morning with the sun hitting her face and giving her skin a glow. The way she paints for a night out and knows how to accentuate everything about her face that’s already perfect, a feat that would seem like an exaggeration if A’whora hadn’t seen it for herself to confirm it’s true. She frequently finds herself having to hold back from giving compliments to Tayce because if she started she’d never stop.

“Okay, first thoughts are…” Tayce announces unnecessarily loudly, and A’whora laughs at the way she’s talking as if she’s a stylist on a morning TV show. “…I’m thinking something black.”

“Of course you are,” A’whora interrupts with a laugh. “Tayce wearing black. How predictable.”

Tayce gives her a shove on the shoulder that’s too hard and makes her fall back against the mattress. “Shut up! I’ll wear something other than black when Lawrence wears something other than purple, how’s about that?”

The pair of them giggle at the joke as Tayce rifles through the clothes she’s shortlisted, holding up a black leather jacket and a black bralet with an intricate lace hem. The combination makes A’whora’s eyes fly wide open in appreciation.

“This?” Tayce raises an eyebrow at her inquisitively. The fact she’s obviously seen her reaction makes A’whora feel a little self-conscious and she doesn’t particularly know why. “Because I’m wanting to wear either my wet-look leggings or my black vinyl skirt with the zip up the front, and I don’t know if that’s too much leather effect stuff?”

“It’s too much,” A’whora nods, physically unable to help her honesty. “Also I think you should wear the skirt because you’ve got good legs and you should get them out any chance you get. But also the bralet won’t go with it because it’ll make your proportions all wrong.”

Tayce smiles appreciatively as she throws the bralet back into her wardrobe as if A’whora’s given her a command and not a suggestion. “See, this is another reason why you’re the queen of outfit advice. Bimini wouldn’t give me this level of honesty, they’re too nice.”

A’whora feels a warmth spread in her chest at the compliment, but she doesn’t show it. Instead she snorts, nods in agreement. “Yeah, because you could come out dressed in a pair of child’s pyjamas and they’d still say they love it. They’d say it’s very Y2K or something.”

Tayce lets out a cackle before holding up the skirt and leather jacket, humming in thought. “Okay, so you’re saying ditch the jacket but keep the skirt.”

“Yes.”

“And ditch the bralet.”

“Yes.”

“So you want me to go out in a skirt and a pair of heels and nothing else,” Tayce raises an eyebrow at her, and as A’whora bursts out laughing and protests she has to fight off a blush at the thought of her best friend topless in heels. Topless in heels and a vinyl skirt. Topless in heels and a vinyl skirt with a zip that could just be pulled down to leave her in-

The heat floods A’whora’s face like she’s been smacked and she shifts on the bed in an attempt at dissipating the feelings that’ve hit her like a tsunami. Inappropriate. Weird. Way too weird. Don’t do that again.

“What about the bright blue fur coat you’ve got? Because you could have an all black outfit with that as a bit of colour,” she suggests, shrugging lightly in an attempt to pretend that she hadn’t just been thinking about Tayce in the way she had.

Tayce’s face lights up and she points at A’whora with one hand and reaches into her wardrobe with the other. “Love that. Okay, top?”

“Are you addressing me? I’ve never topped for anyone,” A’whora attempts a joke. If Tayce can make jokes like that to her then she can do it right back.

“That’s very clear, baby,” Tayce shoots in response without missing a beat. Before A’whora realises it, she’s flexing her toes. What the fuck is happening to her? She needs to steer this conversation back on track.

She thinks for a second. “You’re a size eight, right?”

“In theory. The amount of pot noodles I’ve been chucking down my neck since I moved in is very quickly rendering that a distant memory, I’ll tell ya,” Tayce says, as she leans against the door of her wardrobe and folds her arms.

“I’ve got a black lace bodysuit that would go with that. It’s a ten so it’ll fit. D’you want to try it?”

“Well despite the fact a skirt and a bodysuit was the very thing I just roasted Ellie for always wearing…that sounds lush. Thanks, Rory Roo,” Tayce agrees, the nickname-of-a-nickname setting off the click of a small pilot light in A’whora’s heart. She’s about to ask if she wants to come try it on just now when she hears both their names being yelled from the kitchen.

The pair of them head back through to find that Tia has changed the playlist on the speakers from the chilled-out, calm acoustic one that had been playing to her early 00’s tunes. Combined with Bimini half-singing, half-yelling along to Murder on the Dancefloor and the blast of the extractor fan as Ellie stirs something in a big metal pot at the hob, it’s a far cry from the calm, cosy scene that A’whora had witnessed in the kitchen some hours prior.

Ellie had been the one who had shouted on them, and she whips around from the cooker when she realises that Tayce and A’whora have come through. “I’m making dinner for me, Bims and Tia, you wanting some?”

“Depends what it is. Come on, talk it up, Ellie. Give us some options,” Tayce shrugs with feigned disinterest, and A’whora can’t help the bubble of laughter that bursts from her mouth as Ellie narrows her eyes at her.

“It’s spaghetti and meatballs, and your alternatives are fuck off or die,” she shoots back savagely, and the whoop of shock and laughter that goes up from the others soars above the music and the fan. Tayce laughs good-naturedly in spite of the barb.

“I’m joking, ‘course I’ll take some.”

A’whora wrinkles her nose. “You’re making meatballs for a meal that Bimini is gonna eat?”

“They’re not real ones, dipshit,” Bimini pipes up from over on the sofa. “It’s that Birdseye Green Cuisine shit, innit.”

“Birdseye Green Cuisine shit,” A’whora repeats disdainfully. “If you ever go on The Apprentice, Bim, Alan Sugar’s gonna shit himself at your selling abilities.”

Tayce snorts, tries and fails to cover it up. When her eyes rest on A’whora they share a little smile, and A’whora’s grows bigger when she thinks about the way they’re both so in sync all the time.

“They’re nice, I promise! Veronica’s talked them up loads, she told me she’s been trying to eat more veggie things,” Tia insists, with an entirely unnecessary namedrop of her crush. A’whora relents and says she’ll have a small bowl before jumping out of her skin as Ellie bangs the spoon against the pot somewhat aggressively with a face like thunder.

Before A’whora can ask Ellie about her bad mood, Tia speaks again as she scrolls her phone to change the song. “Honestly, Ellie, you’re a star for doing dinner. Thanks so much.”

“Aw, don’t be silly, doll! It’s nothing!” Ellie turns around from the hob and bats the compliment away, shooting Tia a dazzling smile in return. It’s funny the way her demeanour seems to instantly do a complete 180 at the praise, and it makes A’whora wonder what’s changed.

She’s distracted, though, by the way Lawrence enters in her dressing gown with her hair up in a towel, obviously having come straight from the shower. She pouts and whines in a very un-Lawrence way as she lingers at the doorframe between the hall and the kitchen.

“Guysss, does anyone have an ID they can give me for tonight?”

“What about your friend? Who was it…Rosé?” A’whora shrugs, and Lawrence fixes her with a wide-eyed stare of incredulity.

“Oh my God, A’whora! I never thought about asking the girl I’ve been borrowing ID from since the start of uni! Thanks for that!” she says sarcastically, Bimini giving a yelp of laughter and A’whora leaning off the countertops and swiping at Lawrence in retort. “She’s using it. She asked her girlfriend and her flatmates for me but they’ve all got plans. I felt like a fuckin’ daytime TV charity advert.”

“For just one pound a week, you could help an underaged child get blackout drunk on triple trebles,” A’whora puts on a dramatic, concerned voice, proud of the way it makes Tayce blurt out a laugh.

“It’s such fucking bullshit,” Lawrence huffs, leaning against the fridge and folding her arms. “I mean my eighteenth’s in five days and I’ve been drinking in parks since I was fourteen, how can I not just be let into a fuckin’ bar?”

“Grow up and order a fake one,” Ellie shakes her head with incredulity, smashing the wooden spoon against the pot again with a bang-bang-bang to get the excess pasta sauce off.

“Just you pipe down, hen, you shouldn’t even be at uni. In fact, have you even completed primary yet?”

The two girls stick their tongues out at each other, a mirror-image of petty bickering that makes A’whora laugh. Luckily Bimini steps in, shrugging as they open their purse.

“Here, babe. I’ve still got my course friend’s provisional from when she dropped it on Gordon Street when she was off her face. I ain’t given her it back yet an’ I’m sure she wouldn’t care if you borrowed it. She’s chill.”

Lawrence accepts enthusiastically, bouncing over to Bimini and thanking them gratefully. A’whora watches her face drop, though, when she takes a look at the photo.

“There’s no way this’ll work.”

Bimini tuts and shakes their head, the picture of casual composure. “It’s fine, babes, they never look properly anyway.”

Lawrence drops the hand that’s holding the license to her side and fixes her friend with an astounded glare. “Bimini. This girl is black.”

As the others screech with outrage and mirth, Bimini waves Lawrence’s concerns away blithely. “It’ll be dark! It’s fine! Asttina an’ you have both got similar…well…you’re both girls, an’ you’re about the same height. Give or take a few inches.”

“Christ. I’m going to have to just forward roll past the bouncers, aren’t I? Then draw a fuckin’ club stamp on my arm in Sharpie.”

“Oh my God, stop moaning!” Ellie sighs from her position at the hob, bangs the spoon again for emphasis. “Look, I’ll ask Pippa from flat 2, alright? You both have brown hair, so…that’ll probably be enough.”

A’whora thinks it’s interesting the way Lawrence doesn’t shoot something back in her foghorn of a voice like she normally does. Instead she smiles warmly, dashes over to the kitchen where she hugs Ellie from behind, squeezing her tightly at the stomach and making her flinch in surprise.

“Thanks, Ellie-Bellie,” she sing-songs, swaying her aggressively from side to side until Ellie bats her away, flicking the spoon in a way that threatens to shower them both in marinara sauce.

“Right, that’s plenty. Don’t even do things I enjoy for that long.”

“When’s this gonna be ready, Els?” Bimini shouts through as Lawrence lets go. “ ‘Ave I got time to do my makeup before it?”

Ellie shrugs. “If you can do your makeup in ten minutes.”

A’whora kicks her leg out in Tayce’s direction and jerks her head towards the hall. “Do you want to try on that bodysuit before tea?”

Tayce nods enthusiastically in agreement, so they go back along the corridor with a shout to the others telling them they won’t be long. A’whora holds the door of her room open for Tayce and her heart sinks in embarrassment when she realises she forgot to make her bed this morning.

“Sorry about the mess,” she apologies, to which Tayce gives a cry of a laugh in response.

“A’whora, have you seen my room? You’re fine, kid, don’t worry.”

A’whora thinks that’s true- Tayce’s room is a state, but somehow it seems to suit her. Tayce’s room with the crowded bulletin board, desk covered in sweet wrappers and sketches, floor carpeted with clothes that need washed and outfits that didn’t make the cut. The cracked picture frame on her window-sill of the first selfie the six of them all got together on the first night of freshers and the huge cheese plant that sits next to her bedside table, Tayce’s pride and joy. They’re all little intricate shards that join up to form a perfect picture of her personality, and A’whora thinks it’s sort of perfect.

She looks out the bodysuit from its neatly Marie Kondo-d place in her wardrobe and hands it gently to Tayce. “Try it and see. It’s a small 10 anyway so it’ll probably be fine for you.”

Tayce accepts it gratefully and hooks a finger around both of the straps, letting the rest of the material fall out of its perfectly folded little parcel. She gives a little gasp of appreciation as she looks at it. “Oh yes, baby. I think this’ll do just fine.”

A’whora feels good- proud that she’s managed to find the perfect piece for Tayce’s outfit, to help her look as inevitably gorgeous as she knows she will. The smile on her face falters, though, when Tayce shoots her a wink and leans against the wall with her shoulder. “This is gonna get me someone I can pop off my acrylics for, I can tell. You’ve got the best taste, girl.”

“Are you actually going to try and get with someone tonight?” A’whora injects a laugh into her question that she’s banking on sounding genuine, otherwise it comes across as accusatory and that’s not what she means it to be. Or is it? She doesn’t know. “You know how messy nights at The Avenue always get. Last time we were there Lawrence got so drunk she told us she couldn’t see, remember?”

Tayce laughs her off with a shrug. “Well then I’ll just have to be careful with my drinks, won’t I?”

A’whora gives a false laugh, tries so hard to get it to meet her eyes. Why is she so pressed about this? She gets with girls on nights out too, she’s brought the occasional one night stand to the flat. Tayce is allowed to do the same.

So why does she feel ever so slightly gutted?

If her smile looks fake (which it is) then Tayce doesn’t notice, and she only shoots her a smile as she opens the bedroom door. “You’re an angel. I’ll pop this on then be back in five.”

A’whora takes the opportunity of Tayce having left to make her bed, and as she does so she feels lots of little thoughts dart around her mind like minnows, none of them staying in the same place for long enough to be able to be deciphered. She manages to catch a few before they flee away and she clings to them, turning them over in her head: why does she feel so bothered about the prospect of Tayce finding a girl at the party, talking to her and making a connection and laughing at her jokes? Why had it felt like a punch to the gut when Tayce was joking about doing so? Why does she have this part of her that feels like an idiot for setting Tayce up to look her best and knowing that it’s for the benefit of somebody else, somebody that doesn’t know her like she does?

And then her bedroom door opens and A’whora turns around and lays eyes on her best friend. Tayce in her high heels and bare legs and the skirt with the zip. Tayce with her baby blue fake fur coat and her straight, dark hair tumbling over its shoulders. Tayce in the bodysuit- A’whora’s bodysuit- with the lace and the mesh that clings to her chest like it was designed just for her. There’s something about the fact that she’s wearing something that belongs to A’whora that makes something inside her chest tingle, the fact it’s a little piece of her in Tayce’s jigsaw puzzle that seems to fit regardless of the difference.

“What d’you think?” Tayce smiles, all too aware of how drop-dead stunning she looks.

And then the realisation hits A’whora like a train.

Oh.

Fuck.

She’s screwed.

#rpdr fanfiction #rpdr uk #ortega #me and you together #taywhora #uk2 #lesbian au #university au #british au #college au #freshers au #roommate au #tayce #a'whora #friends with benefits to lovers #lawrence chaney #ellie diamond #bimini bon boulash #tia kofi

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nahoyaglock · 4 years ago

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📃 AS I AM CHAPTER 3 — Discovery

SUMMARY — You knew Kageyama Tobio since you both were in diapers, being close family 'friends'. You always wanted to befriend the quiet kid but no matter your efforts, he would never crack. When you transfer schools and meet Kageyama again, what will happen to your relationship?

PAIRING — family friend!kageyama x y/n

GENRE — fluff/crack/angst

WARNINGS — kags being a bigger meanie

WORD COUNT — 2.6k

FIND THE MASTERLIST HERE

It has been about more than two weeks since your first day at Karasuno, already creating good bonds with Hinata, Nishinoya, Yamaguchi, and even Tsukishima. You were pretty close to all of them, spending alot of time together at lunch or after school, and even during the weekend. They wanted you to feel welcome, after all, you even had a little text group chat.

(Sent October 10th at 11:15 am)

Y/N: [Good morning yall, and happy birthday noya!]

Shoyo: [HAPPY BIRTHDAY NOYA!]

Tadashi: [goodmorning and happy bday!]

Tsukki: [morning, happy birthday]

Noya: [GOOD MORNING, AND THANKS GUYS!]

You smiled down at your phone before shutting it off. Since it was Noyas birthday, your mom let him and your friends come over, it also being a Saturday. You planned to have a sleepover with your new friends, Kageyama, and Tanaka of course. You had finished cleaning your living room, and despite it being small, it was big enough to fit a bunch of enthusiastic dorks, and Tsukishima.

You had begun cooking lunch, making sandwiches for you and Hinata, who was already on his way to your house. "Good morning honey," your mom spoke softly, rubbing her eyes as she walked past you to the coffee maker. "Good morning mom, Hinatas on his way here already," you smile and finish the sandwiches, putting them on a plate and walking to the living room.

"Okay, I have work today so ill be out for a little bit, tell Nishinoya I said happy birthday and Kageyama I said hello," she chuckled as she started the machine. You nodded and heard the doorbell ring, causing you to sit up and smile in excitement, placing the play down on the couch. "Thats Shoyo!"

You hop to the front door and immediately unlock the door, greeting the orange haired male with a smile that was matching his. "Hey y/n!" He greets and you let him in, closing the door behind himself. "Hi Shoyo, I made lunch," you say and lead him to the living room. "Wow, your house is really cute," he giggles and sets his bags and blanket in the corner next to the couch.

"Im glad you think so, I think Tanaka is arriving next, but i could be wrong," you say and plot down on the couch, hinata following your movements. "When is Kageyama coming?" He asks and rests his head on your shoulder, head tilted so he can look at you, but you just shrug. "He hasn't answered me since I sent him the invite yesterday," you say before handing him the plate and taking your sandwich.

"What? He answered me this morning," Hinata said and pulled his phone out of his pocket, going to his text messages with Kageyama. "Yeah, he texted me this morning, asked if i was coming to the sleepover," he said and you sae him typing on his screen. You felt hurt, Kageyama always answered you, whether it was one word, or even one letter, he always answered.

"Ah, he might've forgotten, i wont hold it against him," you smiled and decided to shake it off, it was Noyas birthday and you were ready to have fun. You and Hinata watched a bit of Netflix and ate a bit more than just the sandwhiches you made. It had been about more than an hour since the next person appeared, hearing the doorbell ring as you were in the middle of showing Hinata baby pictures of you and Kageyama.

"Ah, I bet its Tsukishima and Tadashi! Or just Tadashi!" Hinata shouts, jumping up, you following after him with a big goofy smile on your face as you both run to the door. "Its definitely Tanaka! Im calling it!" You laugh, barely able to keep up with the small male as he opens the door. As you looked at the male at the door, you and Hinata both shouted at the same time.

"Tadashi!"

"Tanaka!"

"K-kageyama?" You questioned and Hinata sighed, walking back to your room, sulking. "Its just Kageyama," he complaimed and Kageyama glared at him. "Whats that supposed to mean dumbass!" You let him in and close the door behind him as he kicks off his shoes. "Kags, you didnt bring any bags? Like, more than one?" You ask and walk to your room, seeing him hesitate to say respond.

"I'm not staying over. I just wanted to wish Nishinoya a happy birthday, i thought more people would be here by now," he nonchalantly responds, almost irritating you. "Well, you could've answered my text with a yes or no, or tell me that," you say and turn to face him, kicking his ankle softly. "Sorry," he muttered.

You entered your room with Kageyama and saw Hinata checking out your wall of pictures, filled with pictures of you and kageyama as children, you and your mom, and your friends from Nekoma. "Hey, is that Kenma?" He asked, turning his head to look at you and Kageyama with a curious face.

"Oh, yeah it is," you answer and walk over to the spot next to hinata. "Ah, Inuoka! Lev!" He exclaims with a excited expression, carefully scanning the pictures. "Is this the Nekoma volleyball club?" He asked, looking up at you with admiration as you confirm that it is.

"Thats so cool! You know Kuroo?!" He said, looking at another photo, one dear to your heart. It was the last time you saw them, you had a sleepover at Kuroos house, all the boys attending. You were wrapped in Kuroo and Inuokas arms, the 2nd years sitting on the couch in the back with the rest of the members asleep, or running around.

"Yeah, he acts like my brother sometimes. This was from our last sleepover before i came here," you state and he puts it back in his place when he hears the doorbell. "Okay, this time its DEFINITELY Tanaka!" You slap Hinatas arm and you two, once again, race to the front door. "Its gotta be Tadashi!" He once again opens the door to be met with Tanaka, causing you to shout in glory, hinata groaning.

"Uh, hello to you too," he laughs and steps over Hinata who dramatically fell to his knees. "Sorry, we were betting on who would arrive next," you laughed as he put his stuff next to Hinatas and saw Kageyama come out of your room. "Hey Tanaka," he greeted and you all sat on the couch, continuing the movie you and Hinata had started. After about 30 minutes more, there was a knock on the door.

"Thats definently Tsukishima," You say and Hinata nods as you stand up to open the door, greeting the tall blonde, noticing Tadashi and Noya behind him. "Hey Tsukki, Tadashi, and happy birthday Noya!" You greet, patting Tsukishimas arm and hugging the last two. "Everyones here, so lets get started, hmm?"

As everyone gets their stuff situated, you head to your room to get your phone and order some take out and remind your mom to get a cake before heading back out to your friends. "Noya, you ca– Noya?" You giggled softly, seeing him wrapped in a giant fluffy blanket, and he smiles. "Yes?"

"Ah, I was gonna say you can choose a movie, unless you wanna do anything else before the food arrives," you bounce before taking a seat between Tsukishima and Hinata. "Movie please, i dont want to even know what hes thinking right now," Tsukishima said, his expression was serious. You elbow him with a chuckle that follows, "its his birthday, cut him some slack."

You all decided to play a few games with an old movie playing as background noise. Truth or dare, would you rather, never have I ever, and some board games, Tsukishima winning monopoly. He was currently boasting to Kageyama with a smug look on his face as the doorbell rang.

"Food!" You shouted and jumped up to answer the door, quickly paying for the food and closing the door before bringing it to the small coffee table in your living room. "Also my mom should be home in a few minutes so call down with all the cursing Tanaka," you laughed and opened the food boxes before grabbing some plates and utensils for them to serve themselves.

You guys ate and finally put on a movie, moving the coffee table to you, Noya, Tanaka, Tadashi, and Hinata could all huddle up on the floor infront of the tv, leaving Tsukishima and Kageyama on the couch. "Hey, im home honey. Hi boys," your mom called, a big bag in hands as she slipped off her shoes. "Hi y/ns mom!" Noya called and she brought the cake over to you.

"Happy birthday Noya, and hello Kageyama, its been a while since ive seen you, you're so big," your mom patted his shoulder and he nodded. "Hello Mrs. y/l/n," he spoke politely as Tsukishima quietly laughed at him. "Behave okay? Im heading to bed. Oh, and Kageyama, your mother invited us over tomorrow so i can take you home tomorrow, " she flashed a warm smile and your face lit up as you sat up from the cuddle pile.

"I haven't been to your house in years," you exclaim and placed a hand on Kageyamas knee, giggling. He shifted a bit, causing your hand to fall and he hummed, "because Tokyo is far." You roll your eyes and lay down back between Nishinoya and Hinata. "And im not sleeping over, my moms coming in 10 minutes to pick me up."

"Ah, well either way, ill see you tomorrow Tobio," your mom waved and left to her room. It was silent as you guys kept your eyes glued to the screen. Eventually Kageyama left, so Tsukishima joined the cuddle pile until you guys got tired. Hinata and Tadashi took the couch, Tanaka and Nishinoya draped over each other near the couch, Tsukishima laying next to you on the blanket that covered the itchy carpet.

You sat up, on your phone after your friends from Nekoma decided to blow up your phone.

"You still awake?" You jumped at the voice, thinking everyone was asleep, and you turned to the voice to see the salty blonde slipping on his glasses. "Yeah, my friends texted me," you whispered before turning off your phone, the room being engulfed by darkness and you took your spot next to Tsukishima. "So you and Kageyama?" He propped his head up on his hand as he looked at you.

"Yeah, he's weird. He hasn't been talking to me that much the past few weeks." You rest your head on the pillow and pull the blanket up over you. Tsukishima hums lightly before fixing his pillow, "is he always like this? He doesnt seem that way around the team."

"I guess? Hes always been dry and stand offish since we were children, but to other people he was different." You felt tired, and Tsukishima could sense it. "Rest, worry your head tomorrow." He pats your head before taking his glasses back off and lays down, you smile. "Thanks Tsukki."

"Dont call me that."

—

Once it became morning, Tanaka and Nishinoya were the firsts to leave, followed by Tadashi. You had just come out of the shower, finding Hinata folding his blankets and cleaning up the living room, and Tsukishima talking to your mom in the kitchen as he helped wash dishes. "Good morning mom," you yawned and grabbed a key from one of the drawers. "Im gonna stop by the store, wanna come with Tsukki? Hinata?"

Tsukishima looked at your mom and she nodded, telling him it was okay and that she'd finish the dishes on her own. You left the house with the two males, taking the short walk to the store. "You're going to Kageyamas right?" Hinata asked, bouncing to keep warm in the cold air. You nod and swing the keys around your finger, "yeah, in a few hours, oh! Let me text him."

(Sent October 11th at 1:17 pm)

Y/N: [Morning Tobio!]

[I'll see you in a few hours!]

As you waited for his answer, Tsukishima spoke up. "Not to.. seem like im putting you on the spot but.. doesn't he ignore you?" He kept his hands in his pockets and his gaze forward and Hinata gasped, "Tsukki that sounds mean!" He smacked his arm, causing the taller to look down at him. "I'm just saying that its not the best way to treat someone," he rolls his eyes and Hinata scoffs. "As if you can talk."

You sigh and laugh, placing a hand on both the males arms, "calm down you two, geez." They relax in your touch and Tsukishima continues. "Seriously tho, he could be just, y'know.. being a bitch," he he spoke, putting an emphasis on bitch. "Or he could be hiding something!" Hinata gasps and you laugh at them. "Yeah yeah, but its whatever really, this is how ive always seen Tobio, it'd be weird if he was any different. Though id like it alot if he DID be a little less dry."

You remembered the talk you and Tsukishkma had before, he always brought up Kageyama and your relationship with him. Soon you started to think the same was he did. Was Kageyama really just being mean? Isnt that just how he always is? Why does he act different around others? Was it you, or was it him?

—

You kicked off your shoes as you stepped into the warm house with a bright smile, "hello Mrs. Kageyama!" You greeted as she pulled you into a hug. "Hello y/n, my you've grown! Tobio is in his room, can you take him his plate? This one is your" She said and handed you two plates. You smiled and nodded your head like a gibby child and she patted your back as you made youe way to Kageyamas room. You kicked on the door because your arms were occupied.

You heard a bed creak and a few seconds after, the door opened and was almost closed back in your face if it weren't for him catching a glimpse at the plates. "Come in," he mumbled and let you in. You walked over to his bed and put his plate down on his bed and sat on the end as he closed the door. "Wow, your room has changed alot," you smile and look around the room at his posters and pictures on the walls.

"Mhm," he plopped back down on his bed and went on his phone. You noticed this and furrowed your brows, taking a bite of your food. "You know, for someone on their phone alot, you sure do ignore my texts alot," you mainly joked, but you guessed that he didnt catch on when his expression changed and he mumbled an apology. Was that guilt on his face?

You decided to stay silent and just scroll through social media and eat your food. After a few minutes of just silence, Kageyama finished his plate and got up to take it upstairs. "Hey Kags," you called before he left and you held your plate out to him, "can you take this for me?"

"You barely ate any thing," he said and you shook the plate a little bit, causing him to grab it, scared it would fall. "I'll bring you a meatbun," he murmured and left the room. You smiled slightly at the mention of meatbuns, and stood up to stretch your legs.

You grabbed a napkin from Kageyamas bedside dresser and wiped any food off of your mouth. He had a small trash bin in the corner of his room, so you went to throw away your napkin, looking at his posters and pictures on the wall. When you opened the bin, there was a large stack of pictures atop all of the trash.

All being pictures that had you and him in them.

#as i am*series #kageyama x reader #kageyama tobio #kageyama tobio x reader #kageyama tobio au #kageyama tobio fanfic #haikyuu fanfic #hq fanfic

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waiting4inspiration · 5 years ago

Text

A Queen behind a King IV (Ivar x Reader)

Summary: Months after Eydis found you and took you in, your prophecy has come true. But happy moments don’t last and your joy ends when Ivar arrives in Fjoll.

Warnings: angst, mentions of abuse, mentions of banishment, pregnancy, strong language, jealousy, small fluff, if I missed something please tell me

Word Count: 3,310

A Queen behind a King Masterlist II Vikings Masterlist

The seer was right.

You know you shouldn’t be surprised at that, but you are. The seer was right about your prophecy and about Eydis’s prophecy. You must be surprised at how quickly it all happened. Because months after settling into Fjoll, you married Eydis and became his queen.

Though, Kattegat is still on your mind, you know it will always be because it was your home once. You cared deeply for her people, and you still do. You can only imagine how much they must be suffering without you.

Those thoughts are quickly forgotten as you watch your new husband playing with the young boy on his lap, the son of a merchant family you have taken in after they lost everything in a storm. You and Eydis keep the little boy occupied as the mother and father build a new house, having told you that they have decided to stay in Fjoll because of the many opportunities the city has to offer.

Eydis and the boy are getting on well. The way the boy laughs makes a smile grow on your face and your heart to swell in warmth. It only makes you excited to see him with his own son one day.

The happy moment doesn’t last and all good things come to an end.

First, Eydis turns his head to the road leading to the gates of the city. And when he tenses in his seat and places the boy on his feet on the ground, whispering in his ear to go find his parents, that when you turn your head as well.

You never thought you’d see that chariot again, or that you would see Ivar riding in it again. But, there he is, riding closer to the Hall, Hvitserk, and Ubbe by his side, as well as a small army traveling behind him. It’s the army that concerns Eydis. And that fact that he married you, Ivar’s ex-wife, well, it can’t mean anything good, can it?

Eydis stands to his feet as you push yourself out of your seat and you catch his hand resting on the hilt of his sword moving to wrap around it. “(Y/n), go inside,” he gently says, keeping his eyes on Ivar who glances around at the gathering family members of merchants or merchants themselves.

“No,” you whisper, stepping towards him as you keep your head up high.

Turning his head towards you, he gives you an almost pleading look. “It is not a request,” he states. He turns to you and places his hand on your cheek, presses his forehead against yours as you breathe out a sigh. “I must know his intentions before introducing you as my wife.”

You know he’s doing this to protect you. He has every right to want to protect you. And though you don’t like running and hiding, you know that this is for the better.

You nod your head, making him smile and press a kiss to your lips. It’s a short kiss, but it’s enough for you to know that he’s telling you he loves you.

When he pulls away from you, he turns back to face Ivar and allows you to walk away. Hearing the door closing, Eydis feels more confident knowing that you’ll be safe. Ivar turns his gaze to him as he stops the chariot at the steps of the Hall.

Eydis descends from the steps to meet Ivar on level ground. “King Ivar. It’s a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance,” he speaks, intending to sound bitter because he knows that Ivar can’t harm him. Not in his own city surrounded by his own people without starting a war.

Ivar catches his tone and glares at him as he steps off the chariot. All he does is hum and turn to look at his brothers who have dismounted their own horses and now stand behind him. “We were supposed to meet to discuss terms of an alliance-”

“But your wife saw to that,” Eydis cuts him off, his hand tightening around his sword as Ivar’s jaw tenses and he narrows his eyes at him

“She is not my wife anymore. She was banished for trying to usurp me and now probably lies dead in a ditch.” That’s enough for Eydis to know that Ivar’s not here for you. And even though those words about you infuriate him, he has to keep his composure.

Pulling his hand away from his sword seems to relax Ivar and his brothers behind him. “Then what do I own this meeting?” Eydis questions as he shifts on his feet.

Ivar smiles and glances back to his brothers, almost with an ‘I-told-you-so’ look on his face before he looks back at Eydis. “I’ve come to request your aid to revive my kingdom,” he mentions, but shows nothing such as guilt or sadness for his dying kingdom.

From what Eydis understands, the only thing that kept Kattegat alive was you. Now that you are gone, what’s left from stopping Ivar from using the provisions that are supposed to be used to feed the civil families instead of his army? After the attempted invasion of merchants, what’s stopping Ivar from cutting off all trade?

Nothing.

Eydis remembers how passionately you speak of Kattegat, how you have said you would like to go back there one day, but it can only be a dream. Perhaps he can make your dream come true. And the seer told you that you would rule great kingdoms. Fjoll is not yet great. If yours and your husband’s rule were to spread to Kattegat, then it would start to become a great kingdom.

Smiling at that thought, he nods his head to Ivar and steps to the side as he holds out a hand to invite the King of Kattegat into his Great Hall. “We can discuss it over a meal,” Eydis says, walking up the stairs with Ivar.

“Perhaps then we can meet your new wife,” Hvitserk mentions, him and Ubbe joining the two kings as they make their way to the door. “We have heard she is quite something.”

Eydis chuckles and drops his gaze to the ground, thinking how they would feel when they do find out he married you, Ivar’s previous wife. “I shall ask her if she is up to receiving guests in her condition,” he states, making Ivar turn his head towards him and frown in confusion.

“Her condition?” Ivar asks as they reach the door of the Great hall.

“My wife is with child,” Eydis states, looking up at Ivar again with a proud smile on his face.

And Eydis knows that Ivar wouldn’t have let that fact go so quickly had he known in that moment the truth.

Just because Ivar’s in the city doesn’t mean that you can forget about your duties. It just means that you’ve come to appreciate your husband even more because it reminds you that your efforts in making people’s lives easier - as a queen should - don’t go unnoticed by the king.

At the end of the day, you don’t listen to Eydis’s turmoils in silence as you had to do with Ivar. Instead, your husband allows you to speak first, to tell him of the families you helped, how you’ve come to know them well and the appreciation they show you when you help them. He lets you talk freely.

And when you’re done, he tells you how proud he is of you and how happy he is that you are fitting in so well with his people. Then he will speak, and he will allow you to comfort him if anything is bad news.

Sometimes, he will talk first. But he will not turn in for the night until you have spoken.

He makes you feel like your efforts in the city are appreciated. That your job as queen is appreciated.

Sometimes, you two won’t even talk about the day. Like the night you told him you’re pregnant. The rest of the day’s occurrence seemed irrelevant and you two just celebrated in the fact that you are carrying a child.

And being pregnant only sparks inspiration to carry on with your duties. Even if your ex-husband is in the city.

Today, you just wish to be among your people, listen to someone who needs a moment of your time to ask for help or for anything else. You walk around, making those that have arrived in Fjoll this morning or yesterday feel at home. You want them to see Fjoll as their home away from home, not as just some trading stop on the way home or on the way to their destination.

And your smile makes many around you smile in return.

Ivar walks through the city too, to try and find what it is that made Fjoll surpass Kattegat as the ‘Greatest Trading Post in all of Norway’. He doesn’t see much. Just a few merchants as their family, trading shops thriving with produce, and people who are happy to be here. And you.

He does a double-take when he sees you. And with the smile on your face, he understands now why everyone he’s seen so far also smiles.

He watches as you hand a basket of food to a couple who are building a new house, the woman taking it in gratitude. And bows her head at you.

It’s not possible.

You turn away from the couple and begin to head to the Great Hall. That’s when he moves forward.

It all makes sense now. He remembers how Kattegat seemed to be when you were Queen. And by the way these people seem to be showering respect towards you as you walk past them…

But that only means that…

He follows you into the Great Hall, knowing that what he wishes to say to you cannot be said in public. And as he passes the doors, he slams it shut behind him to get your attention, only thankful that the Hall is empty.

You jump around with a loud gasp. And the hand on your round stomach confirms all of his suspicions.

Ivar stares at your belly in distaste, something inside him telling him what it would be like for that to be his child. But he knows it is not his. He lost the chance to have a child with you when he banished you, and action he regrets every day and that has led him to ask for help from a wealthier kingdom so that he people can survive.

“You seem to have a way of worming your way into high places, (Y/n),” he hisses, walking closer to you with venom in his eyes.

“Eydis found me after you banished me and took me in out of the kindness of his heart. An action you know nothing about,” you snap back at him.

Your quick, sharp tongue surprises him as he comes to stand in front of you. And he laughs darkly. “And then what happened? You fucked him so that he would marry you and make you his queen?” he questions, tilting his head to the side as a sly smirk grows on his face. “You can’t stand being without power, can you?”

You take a step away from him and shake your head. “I like being queen because I like helping those in need, Ivar. Not because of the power that comes with it. I didn’t have to fuck anyone to get where I am now. Marrying Eydis was his choice as much as it was mine and it was done in love,” you state, dropping your hand away from the top of your stomach to encircle your pregnant belly with your arms. “And I will not stand to be insulted by anyone, especially you,” you sneer, making him raise an entertained eyebrow.

“This child of yours has given you some backbone, I see,” he chuckles, stepping closer to you and you try to take another step back. But his hand swiftly pulls out his ax and he presses the blade against your throat. “I should have killed you instead of banished you.”

“And you will be lucky if I do not kill you for threatening my wife and my unborn child.” You breathe a small sigh of relief to hear Eydis’s voice.

Both you and Ivar turn your gaze to the side to find Eydis standing across the room, ax in his hand, and a murderous glare on Ivar. He nods for you to join his side as you step away from Ivar, and you’re quick to walk across the room to stand by his side. “I shall help you restore Kattegat to its original glory. But I will not have you insult and threaten my wife. And it seems that your presence here does just that, so I think you should leave,” he sternly states as he wraps his arm around your waist. “Your brothers are somewhere in the market, last I saw of them,” he mentions as he turns you around and walks away from Ivar.

“What are you doing?” you question, not understanding why he’s not wanting to discuss whatever help he has decided to aid Ivar in.

He leans down to your ear as his hand rests on the side of your belly. “Just keep walking. I’ll explain when we get to the room,” he whispers, making you nod as you do as he says. And you keep walking.

As you walk, you think about what Eydis said to Ivar. Restore Kattegat to its original glory? What has become of Kattegat that it needs to be restored? Has Ivar gone too far with his wars and now the city is in ruins? Has he neglected his people so much that they are dying of sickness?

You’re certain Eydis will tell you what is going on.

As he closes the door behind him when you get to your room, you turn to face him and wait for him to speak. He wipes his hand over his face, sighs and steps to you. But he doesn’t speak. Not yet.

Dropping to his knees in front of you, he rests his hands on either side of your belly, making you laugh as he kisses the swelling bulge. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on now, husband?” you question, weaving your fingers through his hair as he hums.

Eydis turns his gaze up to you, rests his chin against your stomach and gives you a big smile. “I’m going to take Kattegat from Ivar.”

His words make the smile on your face drop. “Take Kattegat?”

“He is desperate for help, says he can feel his ruling slipping through his fingers and that he feels another uprising is on the horizon,” he speaks, standing to his feet and walking across the room as he undoes the belt holding his sword and ax. “I have never seen a man so desperate for help. Which is why I know he won’t suspect us to double-cross him.”

That’s another thing you’ve learned to be different with Eydis. It was always ‘us’. You two were in everything together. Never alone. Never, self-standing. With Ivar, it had always been ‘me’ and ‘I’. He was alone. And when he was alone, so were you.

You shake your head, frowning in confusion, and you turn to follow him across the room. “Why do you want to take Kattegat?” you ask, making him turn his head over his shoulder to smile at you.

“Because you told me the seer said you would rule great kingdoms. Fjoll is not great. Not until we take Kattegat,” he states, sitting on the edge of the bed as you carry on walking closer to him. “A great kingdom is what you deserve, my love.” He pulls you closer to straddle his lap, his hands coming to rest on your belly as you wrap your arms around his next. “A kingdom that stretches across all of Norway.”

Chuckling at his words, you glance down to watch his hands caress your stomach that holds his child. “A great kingdom, is what we deserve,” you whisper, looking back up to him as he breathes out a laugh. “Do not make the same mistake I made with Ivar, Eydis, my love. Do not underestimate him. I could not bear losing you to the Gods so soon,” you state, leaning forward to press your forehead against his.

He sighs, rests his hands on your hips. “At least I have someone on my side that knows a bit about him,” he mentions, making you chuckle and he dips his head to kiss you. “But I won’t attack until our son is born,” he mutters against your lips, making your smile grow as he pulls you closer until your belly presses against him.

Ivar doesn’t stop walking until he gets to his chambers upon returning to Kattegat. He hasn’t spoken a word since leaving Fjoll, and Hvitserk and Ubbe know better than to coax him out of his bad mood.

In his chambers, he runs his hand over his face and breathes out a long sigh. You always told him he needed to do this to control his anger, but thinking about that now only adds fuel to the fire of rage inside him.

And he snaps.

Swiping his arm across the table, ridding it of the cups, jug, and plates, he lets out an irritated shout before pushing a chair down to the ground.

Ubbe and Hvitserk storm in at the noise, glancing around with wide eyes and checking to see if their brother is hurt. But they can see he is furious just by the color of his eyes. They are bluer than blue.

“What happened?”

“She married again. She is now queen of that city. The king I asked help for is her husband so now she knows what I have done or what I haven’t done,” Ivar shouts his answer at Ubbe, glaring at him with dark, almost murderous eyes. “She’s carrying his child. She should be dead, not getting everything she wanted!”

“Who are you talking about, Ivar?” Hvitserk questions, shaking his head in confusion as he frowns at his youngest brother.

“(Y/n)!” Ivar slams his hand on the table, stares down at it and breathes heavily. “No wonder Fjoll is thriving. Because she is there.”

Ubbe and Hvitserk look at each other for a second before looking back at Ivar. Ubbe steps forward, causing Ivar’s head to snap up at him and give him a cold glare. “So, (Y/n) married Eydis and carries his child. There is nothing you can do about that, Ivar,” he states, holding his hands up to try and calm him.

Ivar laughs and shakes his head as he glances to the side. To the bed he used to share with you. “I can do more than just sit back and not do anything, Ubbe.”

“What are you going to do? She is not your wife anymore,” Hvitserk mentions, making Ivar’s glare turn towards him.

“I want her back,” Ivar sternly says, clenching his hand in a fist and presses it against the table.

“You only want her back because she took care of your people and now you don’t know who to do that which is why they are dying in the streets,” Ubbe sneers. And Ivar’s glare turns back to him.

A wicked smile grows on Ivar’s face as he tilts his head to the side. “I banished my wife, Ubbe. What makes you think being my brother will stop me from doing the same to you, huh?”

That question makes Ubbe take a step back and look at Hvitserk. Then he turns and walks out of the room, muttering to himself and shaking his head. Ivar rolls his eyes and turns around to face away from Hvitserk.

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vecnawrites · 4 years ago

Note

Since its halloween ive got something that i thought was pretty hot. Pyrrha sitting down at a table looking flushed while watching Dullahan!Jaune train. People assume its from watching her crush get hot and sweaty but jaunes head is eating her out to practise his multi tasking. Some good old fashiond monster stealth sex

A Dullahan’s Lesson In Multitasking!

Pyrrha was a woman on a mission. Jaune, her team leader, her partner, the love of her life, her beloved boyfriend of several months, was still so shy!

Not that that was a problem, no, not at all. That was one of the things she found cute about him when she finally got through the false confidence he wore as a mask.

Part of it was how in over his head he felt at the school, but she knew a great deal of it was because he was of a monster legacy. The first in his family for several generations. And of Dullahan Ancestry to boot.

From all he told her, none of the other children really wanted to play with him as kids due to the superstitious nonsense surrounding the Dullahan species. Honestly, they had believed her belovedly awkward boyfriend would reap their souls. Idiots, the lot of them.

But due to this, Jaune was rather...no, he was incredibly skittish around any sort of physical intimacy...especially due to how his head separated sometimes when nervous or excited.

And that didn't even begin the problems. Nora was excitable and hardly ever left them alone, and the less said about RWBY's shenanigans messing with their ability to be alone, the better!

But this...she had the perfect plan for it. Ren and Nora were currently in Vale. RWBY was currently in detention due to one of their "adventures" (Pyrrha couldn't help but roll her eyes over that), leaving just them alone. Meaning that this plan was sure to work.

She was drawn out of her thoughts by her boyfriend's voice. "So, what's the plan, Pyrrha?" the redhead looked cheerfully at her boyfriend, arousal flooding her core at what was about to happen.

She hummed. "Multitasking in combat." she smirked to herself as she heard Jaune give a little confused noise...he wouldn't be confused for long.

Reaching the training ground that she had procured, she smiled, turning and giving Jaune a gentle kiss and cupping his cheeks. "I need you to trust me, okay Jaune?" she asked.

Jaune looked at her in confusion, but nodded, although he inhaled sharply as Pyrrha tugged, lifting his head off of his shoulders easily.

"What we're going to do is your body is going to go through our normal routine, while you and I are going to be doing something else." she somehow managed to hide the salacious expression she wanted to give her boyfriend, instead managing to stay with more of a mentor-like look.

Jaune swallowed roughly, cheeks warming as his girlfriend apparently hadn't noticed that she was cradling him against her chest. The soft swell pressing against his cheek gave off a warm heat, making his blush even darker as he realized that Pyrrha had forgone a bra.

He could feel himself starting to swell in his pants, and bit the inside of his lip and tried to think of the unsexiest things he could. His girlfriend was going out of her way to train him, the least he could do was not be some creepy pervert, getting hard at the slightest touch. "O-okay…" he swallowed again, nervously directing his body over to the training area as Pyrrha gently carried him to a table set up over in the corner, one that he could see only revealed a person's feet. The legs to waist would be completely covered.

As Pyrrha sat down and placed his head on the table, he found himself clearing his throat as she stared at him intensely, her emerald eyes having a strange gleam to them. "So w-what are we going to be doing, Pyrrha?" he asked.

Pyrrha squirmed in her seat, wetness seeping from her lips and smearing along her inner thighs. Smiling at her boyfriend, she hummed, stroking his cheek with several fingers. "As I said, you're going to be multi-tasking~" she cooed, finally unable to keep a straight face.

Jaune blushed at Pyrrha's tone, but still tried to keep himself calm. "O-okay, so like strategies?" he needed to keep calm, his girlfriend didn't need him perving on her now.

The hum she gave made his body, several yards away, shiver. He swallowed again as Pyrrha picked him up and looked into his eyes with a smile that made his cock twitch in his jeans. "Oh, your mouth will be involved, Jaune...you just won't be talking much."

Confusion filled him, before it was replaced with shock as Pyrrha gently lowered his head down, past her chest (he caught a glimpse of her nipples pressing through her top), and down under the table. He caught sight of a hopeful, outright eager look on her face before his eyes widened as she placed him on the bench between her legs...and underneath her skirt.

His nose was immediately hit with a musky sweetness that made him salivate as he stared at her swollen core, the lips shaven bare and dribbling her arousal before him.

A hand on the back of his head gently pushed him towards the junction between her thighs, flooding his nose and filling his lungs with Pyrrha's scent.

He was pusher further up to her core, close enough that his lips grazed her lower ones. As damp thighs closed around his ears, locking him in place, his eyes hooded and on instinct, he opened his mouth and extended his tongue…

Pyrrha gasped in pleasure mixed with joy, eyes holding as she watched her boyfriend's body go through his training regiment, while feeling his lips and tongue on her aching pussy. Biting her lower lip, she gently ran her fingers through Jaune's hair, happy that she had come up with this idea. They would have to do this again…

Redness filled her cheeks as Jaune became more active, his tongue worming it's way into her core, licking along the inside of her walls. A soft moan exited her mouth, her body trembling as his nose nudged her clit. How was he so good at this!?

Jaune knew that if anyone looked at his body, they would see a bulge making its way down the inside of his right leg. He was thankful it did that rather than stick straight outwards.

Pyrrha's taste washed over his tongue, the sweet, syrupy fluid practically imprinting itself on his tastebuds, making sure he would never forget it.

He would admit, this was undeniably pleasant. He had had his own fantasies, certainly, but he had never thought of this before! But one thing was for sure, this answered the question he never had known how to broach about whether she was ready for sex or not.

He worked his tongue in, feeling her walls grab onto the organ, practically making out with his girlfriend's lower half. He was going to do everything he could to make sure she enjoyed this...he wanted her to never regret trusting him with her pleasure.

Pyrrha licked her lips, feeling her core beginning to quiver. She was going to cum, only minutes after Jaune had started! Part of her was embarrassed, another impressed, and even another lustful for more orgasms after she tipped over.

Her eyes widened as the door opened, and she forcibly schooled her expression as best she could, looking over to see Coco and Velvet peeking in. "Ah, sorry, Pyrrha! Thought this one was unoccupied...why is your boy training without his head?"

Calling the second year girl all manner of foul names in her head, Pyrrha forced herself to speak. "It...it's a test in multitasking...there are going to be times that...that Jaune is separated from his body…" oh, Brothers, she was getting so close, and Jaune wasn't stopping, he was only getting faster! "S-so, it's best he gets u-used to doing t-things while separated. H-he's reading back in the dorm far-right now."

The beret wearing girl stared at her for a long moment, before nodding. "Smart idea. Come on, Bun-Bun, we'll find another training room." the pair retreated, closing the door behind them.

Just in time, too, as Pyrrha tipped over the edge, throwing her head back with a throaty cry, her pussy squeezing and squirting her cum over her lover's face.

As a chuckling Coco and a red-faced Velvet made their way down the hall to another training room, the beret wearing brunette spoke. "Brothers, if Pyrrha were any thirstier, she'd be dehydrated. Getting so flustered over just watching his body train, what's she gonna be like when they do the do?"

Velvet blushed more, refusing to speak up. She knew that Pyrrha had been far more than ‘thirsty’ as she watched Jaune’s body train. The scent of arousal was so strong, she would have thought her masturbating had she not seen both of Pyrrha’s arms on top of the desk...had the redhead hidden a toy in her panties?

If Velvet had known the truth of what she and Coco had walked in on, she’d have been much more embarrassed.

Gently spreading her thighs open, Pyrrha reached down and pulled up her boyfriend’s head, his lips and cheeks smeared with her juices. Bringing her up to his level, she slammed her lips against his, forcing her tongue into his mouth and tangling it with his, uncaring of the fact that she could taste herself.

Pulling away after several moments, they both panted, staring at one another, flushed and wild eyed. “We’re going back to the dorms,” Pyrrha stated, standing and walking shakily over to Jaune’s body, which stood still, “And when we get there, I’m going to suck you until you blow, then, you’re going to fuck me though the bed. And we’re not going to stop until both of us can’t move.” she husked, her voice thick with desire as she fixed Jaune’s head back in place.

“Y-yeah. Sounds great.” Jaune huffed, the full feeling of his throbbing cock hitting him now, having been hard and ignored for at least fifteen minutes. Licking his lips and savoring the last of Pyrrha’s flavor, he grabbed her hand, and they both left the training room, intent on spending as much time as they could becoming closer to one another...and damn whoever got in their way this time.

#Arkos #Jaune Arc #Pyrrha Nikos #Dullahan!Jaune

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all1e23 · 5 years ago

Text

Code Date Night [One-Shot]

Summary: Sparks ruin date night.

Warnings: A little bit of angst. Lots of fluff. Sweet, protective Bucky.

A/N: A new Astrophile drabble! YAY! As a warning, Bucky is injured on the job in case that’s a trigger for anyone. No death. There is a bit of angst, but it’s still Astrophile fluff. It takes place roughly 5/6 years after the epilogue. Write me a book report, sing me a song or come scream at me if you like it. If you have not read the series Astrophile, THERE WLL BE MAJOR SPOILERS.

Catch up on the series here!

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are my jam, though! Thanks!*

Bucky leans forward in the back of the truck, adjusting his boots. His feet are killing him, and he just wants to be off this damn job. The love he has for his career and his brother runs deep, but he’s so ready to get home and see his wife. That is something he never thought he would say. He’s always loved work more than most things in his life, but here he is desperate to get back to the station so he can see his girl. He settles in next to Steve and continues to hum the same tune he has been humming for the last several turns. He pulls his hair into a tight bun at the base of his neck and continues humming. In just under eight hours, his shift will be over, and he will be holding his sweet Beck.

The tune repeats once more from the start, and the moment it finishes, Bucky glances at the men around him.

“Okay, what’s it from?”

Steve leans his head back against his seat and fires off a guess without any real pause to consider the melody. “Flintstones?”

Clint tears his eyes from the road for a split second and sets Sam with a flat look. “Flinstones? What the hell? Sam, you need to sit down and teach your husband a thing or two.”

Sam chuckles and sends a Steve wink who promptly blushes at the gesture.

“It’s Happy Days.” Sam glances at Bucky for conformation. “Right? Happy Days?”

Bucky chuckles and leans forward to give him a high five. Same dumb game every shift. They have to do something to pass the time when things are less than exciting, and it never fails to end the same way. Steve never guesses right, Clint makes fun of him, and Sam wins.

“Yeah, it’s been stuck in my head since yesterday morning. It’s on all night on that rerun channel, and the twins have decided four in the morning’ means it’s time to get up.”

“Let’s be real. You get up that early, or is Y/n getting up?” Sam asks with a snort, disbelief, and humor filling his words.

“Screw off. I’m gettin’ up. I get up every time my babies cry, punk. What about you? You get up with Stevie over here?”

Steve rolls his eyes. This happens every shift. Every damn day. “Of course, Sam wakes up when I do, Buck.”

“Damn right, but we are kind of passed that stage, dumbass.” Bucky lurches forward and knocks his helmet off his head. Sam whips his gloves into the backseat catching Bucky on the side of his head. Bucky jumps ahead, but Steve grabs him by the back of the jacket and jerks him back into his seat.

“Hey, guys…” Clint shouts over their scuffle. “As fun as this round was, we got a real problem coming up on the right.”

Steve leans forward to see a thick cloud of black smoke rolling out of the windows of a small four-story apartment building. The bronzed painted wood paneling on the outside of the broken windows is quickly turning black from the flames burning through the wood framing. Steve sits back and gives Sam an order before slipping his helmet on.

“Call it in. I’ve got a feeling this one is going to be ugly.”

By the time the truck came to a stop, the windows on the fourth floor had shattered. Bucky and Sam rushed in to pull out as many people as they could. The bottom two floors were cleared, the tenants could feel the heat before it ever reached them. Even with his gear, Bucky could feel it. Sam took the third floor, and Bucky ventured up to the fourth, pulling out a woman in her late forties who was trapped in her bedroom thanks to a fallen beam.

Steve waited for their all-clear before he breathed a sigh of relief. Everyone was out, and they could focus on putting the fire out, not carrying out bodies.

Steve made eye contact with Sam and shouted over the noise surrounding them, “Get that redline in here! We can get it under control before it spreads any further.”

The woman Bucky had pulled out of the flame is sitting on a stretcher, fighting against the EMTs and clawing to get to Bucky. She kept shouting about going back in, and Bucky tried five or six times to tell her there was no way anyone could go back in now until they got the flames under control.

“I don’t know what you’re saying with that mask on! My kitty is in there!"

Bucky yanks his breath mask off in frustration and tosses to Clint standing nearby. He is not in the mood. He’s already running late for date night, and all he wants to do is get a shower, eat some damn pasta, and make love to his wife on the one night his kids spend at Aunt Natasha’s.

Now he’s got to deal with a fire that the Gods had to dump in their laps.

As much as he would love to save this woman’s cat. They can’t go back in. All they can do now is put out the remaining flames and go in once it was safe.

"Ma'am, I understand but–"

"Mom?!"

The unit looks up and sees a little girl about nine standing on the fire escape, and the woman’s voice catches Bucky’s ear. "I told you! My kitty! She was hiding in one of the cupboards!"

"Shit.” Steve steps back from the truck. “Get the ladder!“

There isn’t enough time. Bucky shakes his head and makes a run for the fire escape on the side of the building. He Jerks the rickety metal ladder down and starts to climb up to meet the little girl. She is frozen from fear, and he wouldn’t leave her up there all alone and scared like that. He can hear Steve ordering him to back off, but he can’t. What if it was Orion? Or his sweet little Cassie trapped up there? He can’t just stand on the ground and watch.

"Buck! Watch out for the–"

——–

“He climbed up the fire escape to help the nine-year-old girl down before the building collapsed. The heat had cracked the window she climbed out of, so he covered her with his jacket before moving her to a safer floor. Flashover shattered the window, and that’s when he got the burn to his left shoulder and upper arm. There was a lot of smoke covering them for a good minute. Not sure how much he took in.”

“Okay,” the emergency room doctor sighs and glances up at Steve. “We’ve got it from here. We can notify his family if you don’t–”

“No.” Steve’s voice cuts through the room, and he attempts to soften it. “I’ll call. We are family– I’ll handle it. He’s in my company.”

The doctor nods. He understands. He deals with injured emergency servicemen and women more than he would like, so he understands Steve wants to be the one to make the call. They are a family in the way none of the hospital staff could understand. He leaves Steve to make the call and makes his way back to where Bucky is fighting against the heavy sedation they pumped into him. Steve doesn’t waste another second and heads for the elevator, but Sam catches his wrist before he can get far and pulls him back just a step or two.

"Where are you going?” His voice is soft and warm. He’s speaking as a husband, not a member of Steve’s company.

Steve gives his partner’s hand a squeeze and pulls his arm free of the shorter man’s grip. “It’s Tuesday. That’s their date night. I’m not going to call her in the middle of the restaurant and tell her what happened. It’s not far from here. I’ll tell her in person.”

Sam doesn’t try to argue with him; just simply nods. Once Steve’s made up his mind about something, there is no changing it. He watches Steve go and then turns his attention back to Bucky, watching through the glass wall that separated them.

"BP is good. His vitals are stable despite the injuries and smoke inhalation.”

The words coming from the blond nurse on Bucky’s right sound far away and almost muffled. As if his head was underwater, or the way Leo sounds from under his Spider-Man mask. For some reason, Bucky can’t work out, she continues trying to talk to him despite his drowning. The white lights flashing over his eyes make him wince, and his eyes focus on the room around him. He quickly recognizes where he is. He’s in the hospital, and that means… No, this isn’t good. Bucky has to get up and get out of this bed right now.

He has somewhere to be and someone he can’t let down. He can’t let her down like this.

Bucky groans and tugs at the tubes in his nose as he struggles to sit up. His left arm burns, but he ignores it. There is a pinch every time he tries to move his shoulder to pull out the IV. It doesn’t matter. He has somewhere to be. A gentle hand lands on his chest, “Lieutenant Barnes. You have to sit back for me and keep that in your nose. We need you breathing clean air.”

With the weight of the hand and whatever medication they gave him, he is too weak to push back against their gentle urging. Bucky falls back against the bed, but he continues to try to pull the sheets off his leg to climb out of the cold hard bed – nothing like his bed at home, it’s warm and soft and filled with the people he loves most. He wants his bed, not this sad excuse for one.

“You don’t understand. I got a date– My wife–”

“We can call your wife and let her know. I’m sure she will understand. You can go on your date another night.” The kind-looking nurse on his life cuts in.

Bucky shakes his head rather quickly, making his head spin and tugs at the plastic tube in his nose again. He can feel his chest tightening at the thought of Y/n, his Beck, sitting alone waiting for him to show up. He needs to make sure she is okay.

“No, you don’t understand. My wife wrote it on the calendar. We have a calendar in our kitchen and, and she wrote it down for tonight. She– she wrote in pen, okay? I can’t not show up. I can’t.”

“Mr. Barnes–”

“I promised my wife I wouldn’t–” He takes a deep breath and repeats, forcing his panic down. “She wrote it in pen.”

——–

Y/n glances at her watch once more and drums her fingers along the stem of her wine glass. She’s not nervous. Bucky is only forty-five minutes late. The large glass door at the front of the dark restaurant swings open, she sits up straighter, and a small smile starts to curl up the corners of her mouth until she realizes it’s no one she knows. It’s certainly not the man she’s eagerly waiting on. She huffs out a breath and slouches back down in her seat, grabbing her phone to check for any missed texts – not that there will be, that phone hasn’t left her hand all night.

She takes a picture of her nearly empty glass of pinot noir and sends it to Bucky with a small warning following the image, I’m on my second glass. If you don’t get here soon, I might have to find someone else to take me home. They both know she would never, but they tease each other and the foundation they’ve built all of this isn’t shaken by something that silly. It’s one of the things she loves most about their relationship. She’s never had that before, but she likes it, and she likes that it’s with Bucky.

No reply. No phone call, and it doesn’t look like he has seen the picture she sent. Her thumb hovers over Steve’s number, but she quickly talks herself out of it. This is getting silly. She doesn’t need to be that wife, the one that calls the second her husband is late and makes a fool of herself. Bucky said he would be there, and he will. He would never let her down, it’s not in him – his heart would never let him do anything to hurt her.

Everything is fine. He’s just late. She isn’t worried in the least. It’s perfectly normal for him to be a little late every now and then. Only three weeks ago, he had picked up an extra shift out of nowhere, making up for someone on day shift that needed to trade out. It’s part of the job, and she knows that. It’s not like Bucky is an accountant, working a simple nine to five and home at the same time every night without question. She knew that going in and saw it several times with Nat and Orion before she even met Bucky.

There is nothing to be concerned about. He’s merely running late and will be there soon. He promised, and he always keeps his promises.

She is not worried.

A tingle runs down her spine, giving her goosebumps and causing her to look up only to find Steve strolling towards her. The sight of the blond makes her breathe a sigh of relief. If Steve is here picking up dinner, everything is fine, and Bucky will be there in no time.

“Steve, what are you doing here?” Y/n asks, forcing a relaxed smile despite the way her heart is pounding in her chest. “Picking up dinner?”

“No, Y/n. I’m not here for dinner.” Steve holds out his hand for hers and nods towards the exit, gesturing for her to get up and follow him. “I called Nat, and she said she would sleep at your place tonight with the kids and take them to school the next few days.”

“W-what?”

Her heart sinks into her stomach, and her fingers instantly start to tremble. There’s a buzzing in her ears that won’t go away with a few shakes of her head like she hoped they would. Steve’s gaze doesn’t leave her, but he’s not giving anything away; his face is utterly blank. Whatever he needs to tell her he doesn’t want to do it here, in front of a restaurant full of people and that makes her stomach churn even more. She hesitantly reaches up to take the hand that Steve is holding out for her.

“Why does Nat– Steve, please… Where is Bucky?“

The panic seeping out from her chest is starting to slip into her voice. She can’t help it. Steve came to get her, her husband is for all intents and purposes missing, and he never ignores her calls like this. Something is wrong. Steve squeezes his fingers around hers and pulls her up. His arm tightens around her waist to keep her on her feet.

Just in case.

"Steve… Where is he?”

The crack in Steve’s demeanor tells her everything she needs to know before he gets a word out. Bucky’s hurt. He’s not making it to date night. Calendar and pen could do nothing to change that.

“He’s at the Brooklyn Methodist. He’s going to be okay, but we need to get you there.”

——–

“Mr. Barnes. For the love of–”

A deep sigh leaves the young nurse attending Bucky’s bedside, and it sounds as if she wants to throw her scrubs in the bin and never come back. It’s late nearing the end of her shift, and Bucky isn’t exactly the easiest of patients at the moment. “I know you’re upset. We’ve called home for you four times. The quicker we get you patched up, the quicker you can get out of here and back to her.”

“I have to see my wife now. Not in’a couple of days. She, She can’t go through that again. I know this sounds crazy, and I am sorry I am being a pain in the ass, but she wrote it friggin’ pen! Just give me the paper to sign that says I’m refusing care–”

“I don’t think so, Lieutenant Barnes.” Bucky’s head snaps up at the sound of her voice, and his whole body relaxes at the sight of Y/n standing in the doorway, she’s not smiling, probably because of what she just heard, but she’s wearing that little red number he loves so much. It’s the one that falls off her shoulders and hugs every inch of her body, and it’s really got him regretting missing date night.

“You’re not going anywhere, and you’re going to let them do whatever they need to.”

Bucky glances up to see the nurse smirking at how quickly he settles back against the pillow because his wife told him to. That might bother him if Y/n wasn’t walking around the slightly uncomfortable hospital bed and taking his right hand in hers. She regards his left arm, carefully. There’s no hint of what she feels, which is unusual for her. Bucky can nearly always tell what she’s thinking because she wears every emotion right there in those pretty eyes. If you just look close enough you can see everything that’s written on her heart.

The white bandage, littered with splotches of yellow and light red, is wrapped around his bicep and extendeds up his shoulder spreading towards his chest, and her eyes trace every inch of it. The stretch of the injury explains the lack of a shirt on her husband. Whatever happened though left the tattoo on his arm untouched and she breathes a sigh of relief, not only would that hurt Bucky, it would break Ori’s heart to see it gone from her father’s arm. Y/n’s hand finds its way into his hair, and she gives a gentle tug until his head falls against her chest.

“Beck,” Bucky whispers, whimpers, really, but no one is going to call attention to it. The way he’s clinging to her is for a husband and wife only, and those left in the room take the hint. Y/n runs her fingers through his hair, and he takes a deep breath before whispering against her skin, “I’m so sorry, baby. I didn’t– I tried to get there.”

Y/n’s hands freeze in his hair while he babbles on about missing ‘it’ and apologizing for hurting her. She can’t work out why he is apologizing until she hears him say, I know I promised and you wrote in pen and ‘m sorry I made you worry. Bucky, her sweet December, is lying in bed with what could very well be third-degree burns on his arm, and he’s concerned about pens, past hurts, and the promise he made to never leave a similar scar on her heart.

All he cares about is the damage done to her.

“It’s alright,” She assures him with a simple kiss to the top of his head, his temple, and his cheek, right over the stray tear that slipped out before he could force it back. "We can do it another night. There are plenty of empty spaces on the calendar.”

"But–"

"I’ll draw an arrow to a new night. In pen.” She sinks down next to him on the stiff bed and leans her forehead against his. “I don’t care what night we do date night as long as you’re the one I’m meeting.”

“You better not be meetin’ anyone else,” Bucky whispers in her ear. There is a hint of playful teasing in his voice, and it makes her grin. He is attempting to quell her unvoiced fears and give her back some of her equilibrium in the wake of what could have been their end, and she loves him for it.

“I hear you had two glasses of wine tonight and were lookin’ for someone to take you home tonight? Whaddya say you come home with me darlin’?”

“Mmm.” She considers the offer with a soft giggle and pecks his lip softly.

“That can be arranged, handsome. Let the doctors give you a once over and make sure you’re okay, then I’ll let you take me home, December.”

“Whatever you want, Beck.”

——–

Four days it’s been since Bucky was admitted to the hospital. Four days since he’s been allowed to sleep in his own bed or be able to really hold his wife. It has been four tortuously long days since he’s seen his kids and Bucky won’t make it another day without seeing their sweet faces.

Y/n wanted to bring them in, but the first few days he was in a lot of pain, and he didn’t want them to see him like that. It’s not something his kid should ever have to see. Ori was old enough to understand it was a burn and that he got injured on the job but that she meant she understood. Bucky is worried if she knows all the details, she will panic every time he leaves for work, and she may be that much closer to being a full-blown teenager, but she’s still his baby, and she should get to be a kid, worry-free for as long as she can.

As for the twins, they wouldn’t fully understand, but he didn’t want them to be scared of him. He was hooked up to a lot of machines, and he didn’t want them to have nightmares. It was better to wait.

Thankfully, today was the day. Bucky gets to go home, and Uncle Steve dropped all three troublemakers off about twenty minutes ago. Cassie and Leo ran straight for his bed and climbed up on his lap to smother him in hugs and kisses, which he happily accepted and returned. Orion, though, she hung back with Y/n at the foot of the bed, holding her mother’s hand and avoiding Bucky’s gaze.

He really hates it, not because she’s choosing her mom over him or something as petty and trivial as that. Orion chooses Y/n over him more often than not, and he’s okay with it, loves it in fact, but she’s avoiding him because she’s scared and upset, and he hates that he’s the cause of ache in his daughter.

Once they get home, they will have to talk, just him and his comet, but for now, he keeps it light for the twins.

“What have you two been doin’ without me? Drivin’ your uncles and sister crazy?” Asked Bucky, forced humor therein his voice that only Y/n catches.

Cassie doesn’t say anything. She curls into Bucky’s right side, under his arm, and hides her face in his shirt. She was scared, still is. She’s been terrified since Uncle Steve picked her up from Aunt Nattie’s and said daddy was sick at the hospital, so she would have to stay at their house till he got better. She cried the last three nights in a row and slept in her uncle’s bed, snuggled between them.

Leo isn’t oblivious to what’s going on around him. He is just as upset, but he doesn’t show his feelings as quickly as Cassie does. He tries to be strong for his mama and sisters – just like his daddy does! So, he sits on Bucky’s lap and nods, “I slept with sissy and Oviver at Uncle Stevie’s house."

"There’s an ‘L’ in Oliver, buddy. You slept with sissy, you said?” Bucky questions, and his eyes shift to Orion, who is trying her hardest not to cry and scare the twins any more than they already are.

“You’ve got a pretty awesome big sister, huh?”

Leo nods and beams at Orion, who gives him a small smile back.

Bucky raises his left arm, ignores the burning on his chest, and ushers her over with a wave of his hand. Orion didn’t have to be told twice. She dashes over and snuggles into his left side, careful of the bandage on his chest and arm. It isn’t anything too serious. Second-degree burns that may not even leave a scar, and he gets to be home with the kids for two or three weeks until it heals fully. Bucky is thankful it’s nothing compared to what it could have been because he could have been so much worse.

Still, he knows it looks pretty scary to his kids.

“Okay, you three know I’m alright, don’t ya?” Bucky places a kiss on Ori’s forehead and the top of Cassie’s head. He motions for Leo to lean in and when the four-year-old does Bucky’s lips land right in the middle of his forehead, making him giggle.

There is a muffled yeah from his girls, and Leo nods hesitantly. Bucky sighs and catches Y/n’s eye, silently begging for help. She’s better at this, better at the whole words thing. As much as he tries, Bucky isn’t as good as Beck – regardless of what she thinks. Cassie looks up at Bucky and tugs his shirt, grabbing his attention.

“Daddy?” The small voice coming from his side makes him drop Y/n’s gaze, and he finds Cassie staring up at him wide-eyed and curious.

“Yeah, stardust?”

“Your arm hurts?”

Bucky shakes his head and gives his shoulder a couple of shrugs to prove his point. There is a little bit of pain if he keeps it in motion, but Cassie didn’t need those details. She just needs to know her daddy is okay and all good for their nightly cuddle sessions.

“A little bit, baby. It’s just a little burn, but as long as I keep it clean and wrapped up, it will be alright. I promise I’m okay. Just need rest and cuddles from my babies, and I’ll be right as rain.”

She nods seemingly approving of the answer and then pipes up again, “Can we all cuddles in bed tonight?"

Leo appears to like the idea because he scoots further up Bucky and lays his head on Bucky’s stomach. Ori glances between her parents, waiting for what she clearly hopes is a yes. Bucky catches Y/n’s eye and grins. She grins right back and shrugs just light enough for Bucky to spot but not the kids.

“Of course.” Y/n says with a smile and a wink for Ori. “I always want you three snuggled up with us. We might need to invest in a bigger bed, though, with our two little bed hogs.”

Bucky chuckles and tightens his arms around his kids. “Nah, we will be fine, Beck. Just gotta cuddle real close, and everything will be just fine.”

#Bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #fireman!Bucky #Firefighter AU #daddy!bucky #no longer single dad AU #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #astrophile files

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stylesluxx · 5 years ago

Text

cold? chilling? freezing? (IV) – s.rogers

[warnings: none??]

summary: in which y/n is an assassin turned lover | part three | part five

word count: 1,319

masterlist

You watched as the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents finished packing up the Tesseract and Loki's scepter, and you stood close to Loki, keeping an eye on him.

"So, shawarma?" Tony suggested and looked around at the group.

"We have a few other things left to do, Tony," Steve shook his head. "On my way down to coordinate search and rescue," Steve said, hand on his earpiece. He walked over and got in the elevator before disappearing, giving you a small smile as the doors shut. "See you in a bit."

Tony talked with a couple of agents, (distracting them from their job and making you roll your eyes), while you waited to leave.

A few agents, Loki, Thor, and Tony piled into the elevator. Hulk went to get on and they immediately started to groan.

"Woah! Woah woah woah woah!" Thor exclaimed and held a hand out to stop the green giant.

"Hey, hey, Buddy. What're you thinking? Maximum occupancy has been reached!" Tony added on to Thor's rejection.

"Take the stairs!" Thor redirected him and you watched as Loki waved him goodbye as well.

"I'll take the stairs with you, Big Guy," You said and looked up at him while the elevator doors shut.

"Take the stairs. Hate the stairs," He grunted but walked toward the stairwell and you followed.

"You know, the next time they need you, you could always just refuse to... come out," You hummed as you limped down the stairs.

"Hate the stairs," He mumbled to himself, seemingly ignoring you.

"Okay, great talk," You nodded.

—

You walked with Steve to the place where you and the rest of the disbanded team would be meeting. You wore a black backpack on your back that held your suit and nothing else. You weren't sure what your next mission would be or where you'd find yourself next but S.H.I.E.L.D. didn't need you at the moment.

You watched Steve's tense facial expressions as Banner handed over the Tesseract. You knew how he felt about it and all the dangers it could bring. He made it very clear that Howard Stark should've just left it in the ocean, untouched.

Thor gave you all a nod before going back to Asgard with Loki. Their little portal thing (you had no idea what to call it and you reminded yourself to ask the next time you saw Thor) lit up and shook you a little causing Steve to put an arm out in front of you.

"'m alright," You assured him, your eyebrows furrowed.

You didn't understand what Steve was doing. He knows you would give him a run for his money in hand-to-hand combat, so you didn't understand his protectiveness and instinct to protect you. You could take a hit, a few actually, and he's seen it with his own eyes. You didn't need him looking after you all the time. And also, only 24 hours ago you were just strangers. So why he was keeping an eye on you, was a mystery to you as well.

"Seven–" Tony started while you walked over to where he stood by his car, Steve in tow.

"Don't call me that," You cut him off harshly.

"Great work," He ignored you. "You might be my favorite teammate. Not because I necessarily like you but because the others are a bigger pain in my ass."

"Uhhh, thanks I guess," You nodded and gave him an odd look.

You crossed your arms over your chest, simply out of habit, as Steve walked from behind you to shake Tony's hand.

They said their goodbyes and you waved at everyone else before you started walked away. Banner was going with Tony and you knew you didn't fit in with the pair of super-geniuses. Natasha and Barton were leaving together and you could see yourself fitting in there but, there was already a bond that you detected. You were ready to go off by yourself. You were used to it.You heard footsteps and felt a hand grab onto your arm, making you turn around. You knew who it was before you could see him. Anyone could guess who it was if they were watching you for the last 24 hours.

"Yes, Captain?" You asked, an eyebrow raised.

"Do you have any idea where you're going?" He asked you, a smile dancing on his face.

"No clue," You shrugged.

"Me either. I'm still trying to get used to the city I guess," He shook his head. "Would you like to grab lunch? If I can get us back to my apartment, I know a good place a block away."

"Shawarma?" You asked playfully, mocking Tony.

"No, not shawarma," He laughed. "But they have sandwiches. They're pretty good."

"I don't think so, Captain. I need to figure out where I'm going to be staying," You shook your head.

"Oh come on. You can stay at mine tonight and figure it out tomorrow," He suggested. You squinted your eyes at him, unsure of his intentions. "I'll even help you look."

You thought about it before nodding slowly. "Okay, you win," You sighed.

He smiled and nodded toward his bike before walking over to it. You followed behind him and got on the bike easily, ignoring his helping hand.

"I'm not fragile, Captain," You told him.

"I know you're not," He said and got on the bike, handing his helmet to you. You snapped it on and loosely wrapped your arms around his waist. "Hold on tight," He told you before taking off.

—

That was two years ago. You've been getting dragged around by Steve for two years. First, you stayed in New York for a while but then you found your way to D.C. You told him you could go out and find an apartment but he insisted that you stayed with him.

"Why pay for a whole apartment when you can split the price of one?" He reasoned.

Steve was already out of the house and doing his morning workout when you got a call from S.H.I.E.L.D., pulling you out of the comfortable full-sized bed.

You sat on the edge of the bed and sighed before standing up and getting dressed. You were used to staying home and keeping Steve company, so you weren't necessarily looking forward to having to do actual work.

You walked down the steps of the apartment building and spotted the black car waiting for you out front. If the windows weren't tinted as dark as they were, you wouldn't have noticed it there. The organization had a weird way of trying not to be suspicious.

After receiving your mission, you took one of their cars and went to go get Steve. You looked over at the clock and knew he'd still be out. You pulled up and noticed him talking to another man, which made you smile. It was good he was putting himself out there, making other friends.

You rolled down the window, a playful smirk gracing your face.

"Excuse me, Gentlemen, do either of you know where the Smithsonian is? I'm here to pick up a fossil," You teased Steve.

"That's hilarious," He chuckled and walked to the car, getting in.

The other man crouched down to get a good look at you.

"How you doing?" He asked smoothly.

"Hey," You winked.

"Can't run everywhere," Steve shrugged.

"No you can't," The man agreed as Steve rolled up his window and you pulled off.

"Making new friends I see. I'm proud of you," You said and looked over at him with a genuine smile.

"I just met him today, Y/N. Why are you always pushing new friendships on me? You don't want to be my friend anymore? Is that it?" He joked and narrowed his eyes at you.

"Oh stop the theatrics, Cap," You shook your head. "Reach in the backseat and read the mission file. Looks like we're back to work."

[AN: so the next part is my favorite part so far and I’m excited to share it in a few days. part five and beyond we learn something new about the reader each day and idk it’s exciting to me. anyway, thanks for reading !!]

[tags: @thisartemisnevermisses @thatoneperson5000]

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intricate-oeuvre · 5 years ago

Text

On how to be deadly || Geralt of Rivia || part VI

Word count: 2.4k+

Summary: Axelia is Witcher experiment herself and has gone through same harsh Trials as Geralt, but she wasn’t so lucky with the outcome. Her vision didn’t become better. Therefore, she was rendered blind in the end. And because of that, she solely uses her Witcher senses to make her ways. Only potions can give her false sense of sight for limited time.Somewhere along the way she meets the Rivian. Who’s interested to know how she’s been killing monsters and hasn’t been killed herself yet.

Warnings: nothing, angst, fighting.

A/N: YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW CLOSE I WAS TO WRITING THAT AXELIA GOES FOR JASKIER IN THE END!!!

part I || part II || part III || part IV || part V || part VI || part VII || part VIII || part IX || part X || part XI || part XII || part XIII | Epilogue

Some years later

*time skip brought to you by Jaskier’s lute solo*

Axelia was standing on the rampart of the city. Her eyes once again hiding behind the tulle blindfold. Her straight hair was kept in high ponytail, letting it billow behind her back as she looked upon the city. It was one of those times where she didn’t know why she was here. Alright, she knew what was the reason of her being here, but she couldn’t explain what drove her to come here, what made her choose this clientele.

She knew perfectly well that Geralt was here, but she had somehow efficiently avoided him. For now. It wasn’t that she needed to exhort herself much, because Geralt wasn’t alone. He had travelled here with Jaskier and Yennefer. For whatever reason unknown to Axelia. She was standing on the fortified wall, it’s elevation letting her observe bigger part of the community. Wind blew the small tresses of the hair at her temple around her face, sending small shiver down her spine. With deep sigh she pulled over large hood and continued her watch.

As it always was in these kinds of moments, where she could practically feel him near, memories came crushing back. Somehow his name was always on the tip of her tongue, leaving bitter taste in her mouth. Sending unwelcomed shiver down her spine, leaving her feeling cold. Which only reminded her of all those winter nights back at Kaer Morhen. Where she had shared the bed with white-haired witcher, basking in each other’s warmth as winter winds tore around the stone walls of the School of Wolf. Now she spent those cold winters alone, not even thinking about returning to the school anymore. She didn’t need anymore reminders of better days.

“Maybe next spring.” Axelia had mumbled as she had been laying on his chest.

“Spring?” Geralt had asked, his eyebrows slightly furrowing.

“Yes. I could leave with you.” Axelia looked up at him.

“You have some training to finish.” Geralt said, looking down at her and running his hand through her long hair.

“I promise you that I will finish it by spring.” Axelia said, eagerly leaning on her elbows and looking at Geralt. He tilted his head back to look in her eyes, that seemed to shine with excitement. That kind of excitement that he wasn’t sure if he could fuel it more.

He settled with: “I don’t doubt it.”

“So, I can leave with you.” Axelia trailed off.

“I didn’t say that.”

“But you didn’t say no either.” Axelia raised an eyebrow at him.

“Hm.” Geralt hummed, looking away as small smile was playing on his lips.

And yet, she went nowhere. Finished her training and went nowhere. Rotted in Kaer Morhen for two winters. Alone. With no explanations. With broken heart. Just to learn later in life that she’s meant to fall in love with someone who doesn’t love her back. Axelia had went to mages and sorceresses to undo whatever misfortune had been bestow upon her. Tried to find djinn herself, but with out luck. All she had learned from that wasted time, was that Geralt and herself were soulmates. That Geralt was the love of her life. Geralt’s was Yennefer’s and hers- Geralt. He was never meant to love her. All his love was reserved for Yennefer. And that was enough to kill her. And that was Axelia’s lesson on how to be deadly.

Axelia’s and Geralt’s paths had crossed again unknowingly to him. He was far too distracted by Yennefer who was at his side. Company of three was joined by another figure. Thus, making Axelia slightly furrow her brows until realization dawned upon her. Must be Ciri, as much as Axelia could tell by the white hair and swords that adored girl’s back. She watched them exchange pleasantries, but didn’t dwell on it for long, her unsightful eyes drifting along the buildings. She was here for a job, she needed coin. Finishing that, she could leave again and continue running away from him. She’ll mostly likely will have to wait out till the nightfall, when they’ll settle for the night in some inn. Then Axelia will have chance to do her job. She must have been in deep thought because, she hadn’t noticed that one of the bunch had disappeared. Her eyes jumped from one building to next, from one market stall to another. But the hair at the back of her neck raised and she felt Jaskier approach her even before she could see him. She took off her hood and snugly pulled it around her neck.

“You really don’t hide much when Yennefer is around him, huh.” Jaskier trailed off behind her.

“It’s because he’s distracted by her and nothing else matters to him at that point.” Axelia explained, letting her eyes roam along the horizon where town blurred together.

“Hello, Jaskier.” Axelia finally greeted him and took off her blindfold, tucking it behind her belt.

“Hello, Axelia.” Jaskier greeted her softly, now standing beside her and looking down at the city.

“Why are you here?” Bard asked, smirk playing on his lips.

“You know damn perfectly well, why I’m here.” Axelia rolled her eyes. Jaskier chuckled and looked down where Geralt was standing with two women.

“Why is he here?” Axelia asked as she crossed her hands on her chest.

“Him and Yennefer are meeting up with Ciri, as you can see.” Bard mimicked her movement, but one hand resting against his chin.

“Hm.” Axelia hummed. Comfortable silence setting in-between them. In the last couple of years, Axelia had grown to tolerate the bard. Using him to gain information on Geralt, without even meeting the witcher.

“How did you find me?” Axelia putted most of her weight on her right leg.

“You don’t really hide when Yennifer is around.” Jaskier repeated from earlier. Axelia furrowed her brows, was he looking for her? She turned to him, that weird ‘what the fuck do you mean’ look on her face.

“Look, you have strikingly white long hair. And I caught a glimpse of it when you were climbing up the stairs of the wall.” Jaskier shrugged, waving his hand in the air. “And I don’t really know anyone else besides Geralt and Ciri who would have that kind of hair, so.”

“You aren’t really subtle.” He smirked.

“I’m blind, Jaskier.” Axelia hissed at him, getting annoyed.

“Now, now. Don’t look for blame. You didn’t turn blind just yesterday.” Bard countered. This made girl in front of him think about how Geralt dealt with his ever going bantering.

“How is he?” Axelia asked with a sigh and turned to look over the city again.

“Missing you, but he didn’t say that.” Jaskier explained.

“Then how do you know?” Axelia tried to ask in levelled tone.

“I have written enough ballads about love to know when someone is missing somebody.” Jaskier explained, feigning hurt of his talent.

“It’s not love, Jaskier. He loves Yennefer and Ciri, not me.” Axelia explained, her voice growing smaller by every word.

“Keep telling yourself that.” Jaskier rolled his eyes at her. Axelia turned her head to look at him, but he didn’t notice that.

“Well, I got to go back. Nice meeting you, again.” Jaskier pointed behind himself as he turned to leave.

“I’ll go with you.” Axelia said without missing a beat.

“What?” Jaskier turned around, his eyebrows skyrocketing.

“I want to see close up the one who has stolen his heart before I could.” Axelia shrugged, putting the blindfold back on.

“I—Umm… Is that a good idea?” Jaskier scratched the back of his neck.

“Calm down. You don’t have to do anything.” Axelia hummed.

“I’m not going to stay for long, just walk with you down there, take one look at her, and without a word, walk away.” Axelia gave her plan.

“Yen will ask about you.” Jaskier gave her a side glance.

“Think of something. Your artistic flair will help you with that.” Axelia said, turning to walk for the stairs.

“Are you coming?” She stopped briefly, waiting for the bard to follow.

Geralt was standing near the inn, Yennefer on his left while he was talking with Ciri and catching up with whatever that has been going on and what was to happen next. His voice was even as ever until he felt it. The scent. He furrowed his brows.

“What is it?” Yennefer asked upon noticing the change in him.

“Nothing.” Geralt said, standing taller as his eyes started to roam around.

And there she was. Walking in step with Jaskier who seemed fidgety as ever. They both seemed to talk about something. Geralt observed how her ponytail swung behind her on every step she took, or how that blindfold that he hated so much was contrasting with white strands that framed her face. He revelled in her stance, she always seemed determined about her steps even if she didn’t see; she seemed taller or maybe she just held herself differently, even thought that she was still shorter than Jaskier and himself. Part of him thought that she was happier, even after that last revelation at that little house. Her face was adorned with smile, almost laughing at whatever Jaskier had said to her just now. But that scent of hers… made his head spin.

Yennefer and Ciri only stared at her, not uttering a word.

Before both of them could reach the company, Axelia stopped the bard, making him look at her.

Geralt followed all her movements. The way she looked up at Jaskier while talking to him and sending a small smile towards him, while to bard nodded in agreement. With small laugh she patted his shoulder and continued her path. Walking past company and not even looking back. Geralt’s head turning to follow her.

“Who was that, Jaskier?” Ciri teased the bard. Jaskier’s eyes grew big with fear as he was giving negative hand gestures so not to affiliate her with him.

“Alright then?” Ciri raised questioning eyebrow at him.

“Geralt?” Yennefer asked when she noticed that the witcher’s mood had changed.

“Why is she here, Jaskier?” Geralt asked as his head snapped at the bard, completely ignoring Yen’s question. Bard’s expression changed from fear to blatant irritation:

“You know why, Geralt.”

They had been doing this dance for years now, and Jaskier still couldn’t understand why Geralt asked this. With narrow of his eyes, bard doubled over, that way leaning closer to Witcher, and mouthed: crossed paths again, eh. Which earned the bard a punch in his shoulder.

“Hey, what did I do?!” he grabbed at his shoulder. “It’s not like I ask her to come here!” He raised his hands up in surrender.

Meanwhile Axelia was walking away, faintly feeling the scent of Roach, small smile gracing her lips at that. She was sure that Geralt would follow her, even if it meant to ask how she was. But she had no intention to linger nearby. She just wanted to look at this Yennefer who had stolen Geralt’s heart. And she did, now she could leave before the witcher will catch up with her.

Walking a bit faster, Axelia made it out of the small town. Tying the blindfold and putting on the hood, with quick strides she walked the empty road. It seemed that as of late wind and murky clouds were constant partners in her wanderings. Hearing steps behind her, she couldn’t stop her heart from racing. She knew it was him, without a doubt. No one in their right mind would ever sneak upon a witcher. And armed at that. Picking up her pace she walked faster, full with blind hope that he will stop and let her be. She had no problem walking past him if he was distracted by something else. But being alone with him, and right now, was something entirely different.

“Axelia!” she could hear Geralt behind her as he tried to keep up with her.

“Fuck off!” She threw angrily over the shoulder. Tears were starting to gather in her eyes, yet she didn’t know if they were from anger and frustration or from sadness and her broken heart.

“Stop!” Geralt didn’t relent, catching up with her.

“No, forget it! Everything!” she screamed at him as she grabbed the sword from her back and hurled it behind herself. It went coiling through air.

“Fuck!” Geralt groaned as the sword uncontrollably flew past him, missing by a rough inch. Losing her sword made her move faster, and she went into a full-blown sprint.

“Are you kidding me?!” Geralt groaned displeased by her action.

For a split second, Axelia thought that she had managed to get away from him, that he maybe stopped his pursuit. But the sudden jolting pain in the back of her ribs told her otherwise. And now both of them, Axelia and Geralt, were plummeting down in the grass.

“Get off of me!” Axelia yelled at him and kicked him in the chest. Rolling on her stomach she tried to crawl away and get up, but Geralt yanked on her ankle, sending her face first in the ground. Next second Geralt was on top of her, trying to pin her hands down. With furrowed brows she headbutted him in the nose, male witcher letting out a grunt of pain.

Both of them tumbling in the grass every so often.

“Stop being a child!” Geralt bellowed at her.

“I’m not being a child!” Axelia screamed at him, biting his hand and trying to crawl away again.

“Can you stop that!” Geralt had stood up and grabbed her by the back of her cloak, trying to pull her up. The pull around her neck, made her bite her lip until it started to bleed. But she quickly reached to untie it and slipped out of it. Briefly tripping in the grass she stood up to dash away again. With grunt Geralt went for her again. With swift blow in her side, he brought her down, finally managing to pin her down with all of his weight.

Meanwhile, Jaskier, Yennefer and Ciri were standing at the edge of the town and looking how two silver-haired witchers were fighting each other. Dropping in the grass from time to time and kicking each other and yelling and screaming.

“Oh, this is definitely my next song.” Jaskier mumbled upon watching the disastrous scene.

“White Wolf versus She-Wolf… or something along those lines.” He said tapping his chin.

~~~~

part I || part II || part III || part IV || part V || part VI || part VII || part VIII || part IX || part X || part XI || part XII || part XIII | Epilogue

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@boiled-onionrings @fandomwithnolifesblog @901seconds @kingniazx @shesakillerkween @your-dreams-are-strong @stitchattacks @ayamenimthiriel @stormfire6 @mr-illegal-king @stretchkingblog97 @mikariell95 @geralt-of-motherfucking-rivia @martian-m @republicansithlord @notso-fetch @lizliz3107 @godlydolans @arsaky-lou @eternallyvenus @le-reina-asesina @alwayshave-faith @writingmi @staringmoony @kenai731 @holychic @dramaticturnaway @ihopeyousteponarosepetal @seouldesire @runs-with-sciss0rs @yes-captainstark

#geralt of rivia #geralt x reader #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt z rivii #geralt imagine #geralt x y/n #the witcher #the witcher x reader #witcher netflix #witcher oc #witcher yennefer #witcher jaskier #deadly series #witcher #geralt #jaskier #yennefer

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puddygeeks · 4 years ago

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Wᴇ Cᴏᴍᴇ Rᴜɴɴɪɴɢ - Tʜᴇ 100 Bᴇʟʟᴀᴍʏ x OC - Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 70: Sᴇᴇᴅs ᴏғ Dɪsᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ

Masterlist

Rating: Mature

Summary: During her time in the Skybox, Indigo formed a precious friendship with fellow outcast Octavia Blake, the girl under the floor. At first they thought their departure from the oppression of the Ark was a blessing, but quickly came to rely on Indigo's keen survival instincts. The 100 struggle to meet the challenges of Earth whilst Bellamy strives to lead the wavering teenagers and his irresponsible attitude fuels constant conflict with Indigo. Their only shared interest is in protecting Octavia and Indigo beings to suspect that there is a deeper cause to Bellamy's seemingly irrational choices. As the consequences of his actions mount up around him, he finally begins to confide in her and she discovers more than she ever bargained for.

Fandom: CW’s The 100

Pairing: OC x Bellamy Blake

LONG TERM ONGOING PROJECT :)

My writing is entirely fuelled by coffee! If you enjoy my work, feel free to donate toward my caffeine dependency: will work for coffee

Warnings: Mature content. Non-consent, language, sex, self harm, suicide, anxiety, helplessness, torture, captivity/confinement, alcohol/drug use.

Episodes: Watch The Thrones

Chapter Seventy

My body felt heavy as I gradually stirred and the first thing that I noticed in my environment was the consistent beep of a heart monitor. Something was in my nostrils, irritating my nose and I could feel dressings of some kind stuck to multiple parts of my skin. There was an intense soreness in my chest, feeling as if I had been bruised all over and I felt the familiar tight sensation of stitches.

Exhaustion hung over me, preventing me from opening my eyes too soon and my mind swirled over the last events in my memory as I tried to make sense of what was happening. The explosion of Mount Weather replayed in my mind and I felt my heart skip a beat in panic, allowing me a burst of energy to wake from the medication that was being pumped into an IV.

The medical unit swam into view and it took a few moments for me to process the fact that I was back in Arkada. People rushed around me, seeming flustered by my movement as if they had not expected it and I strained to concentrate on their words.

“Get Abby. She’s waking up!” Jackson’s voice alerted, before hurrying over to my side in concern and he slapped my hands away as I attempted to pull an oxygen tube from my nose.

“Morning, sleepyhead. Now listen, don’t go getting all excited and jumping around. You’re not long out of surgery, so you still need to rest. I’m just going to run some obs on you to check how you’re doing whilst you get your bearings.” He explained, moving to wheel over a blood pressure machine with a bunch of other medical tools sitting in a basket that was attached to it and I nodded to consent to anything that he felt he needed to do.

Everything felt horribly bright to my tired eyes, but fortunately the ward was empty so I could take my time to reorient myself without any interruption. My memories of how I survived the explosion were hazy in my muddled mind and I was sure that I remembered Jackson arriving at the perfect moment to treat me, but I couldn’t think of any reason why he would have been there.

“Am I imagining things, or did you save my life?” I muttered, my voice still hoarse from smoke inhalation and Jackson smiled down at me as he worked.

He finished placing the blood pressure cuff on my arm and set it to begin squeezing my arm, then busied himself with taking my temperature. I waited patiently for an answer, my blinks lazy and long as I still battled to wake up and once he was content that he’d done all he needed too, Jackson perched on the edge of the bed to view me with evident fondness.

“Sinclair radioed to ask me to come to staff the med bay in the mountain as soon as the rescue party left. Just in case things went bad, he thought it made sense to have me standing-by where the best of our equipment was.” He explained calmly, observing me closely as he filled in a medical chart and I hummed thoughtfully, surprised at how efficient Sinclair had been whilst we were leaderless. “Fortunately, it took a while to get there, so I was just in time to witness your crazy stunt.” He quipped, glancing up at me with a cheeky glint in his eye and I smiled weakly at him.

Before I could manage a response, Abby rounded the corner and thinned her eyes at me in a manner that indicated that I was in trouble. Jackson noticed my attitude become tense and glanced back at her, before grimacing slightly. He instantly got to his feet, sneaking me a supportive smile as he packed up the equipment and then made himself scarce.

“You have us quite a scare, Indigo. Again.” Abby declared, nearing to check my stats on the machines and I knew that I was in for a lecture.

“I only just found out that you asked Jackson to hide your broken ribs from everyone. Do you understand how irresponsible that was? If he hadn’t arrived at Mount Weather just after the explosion, you would have died from your injuries. You’re very lucky that you still didn’t.” She scolded, standing above me with a stern expression and I moved my gaze to my feet awkwardly.

“I’m sorry, Abby.” I whispered, feeling completely unprepared to defend my actions when I was this weak and I chewed on my lip.

Deep down, I knew that I deserved to hear this and she was right to be furious at me for my actions, but whilst every part of my body was aching, I was all too aware of the effect of my decisions. I didn’t need anyone to tell me that I had been foolish, but I swallowed my pride to allow them their reactions and she sighed in an exhausted manner as she regarded me.

“I’m not the only person that you need to apologise to. Sometimes, I’m not convinced that you realise the impact you have on this camp. Your remaining group all depend on each other for their wellbeing and each time that we lose one of you, the rest of you suffer. They all worry for you and you know better than anyone that when they worry, they make bad decisions. In the time that I’ve known you, you’ve always acted as if you are the most mature of your group and have taken the role of being responsible for them. I’m sorry if this is difficult to hear, but it’s time for you to realise that your actions will get them killed if you don’t start learning to share the burden.” She advised, her voice low and serious, and I finally met her eyes with regret.

“You’re right.” I admitted, fiddling with my hands awkwardly, feeling as if I were staring into the face of my own disappointed mother and as I opened my mouth to continue, Bellamy hurtled around the corner in a fluster.

Though Abby tried to warn him off with her body language, clearly keen to finish our conversation without him fussing over me, he refused to await permission to interrupt. He charged past her to reach my bedside with desperation and had to pause just before he reached me to soften his movements so that he wouldn’t unintentionally hurt me in his enthusiasm.

“You’re finally awake!” He breathed, relief filling his handsome features as he gently took my face in his hands and placed a cautious kiss on my forehead, as if he were afraid that he might break me. “You really scared me this time, Inds. I thought I was gonna lose you.” He confessed in a weak voice, his eyes still red from crying and whilst he was close enough for me to properly examine him, I began to notice how broken down he looked.

“I’m fine, Bel. I’m not going anywhere.” I answered reassuringly, keen to put his troubled mind at ease and without even looking at her, I could feel Abby raising her brows at me as she cleared her throat.

“Actually, she’s not fine.” She clarified, stepping closer with her arms crossed and Bellamy turned to view her with interest. “In the interest of transparency, as your girlfriend has a history of hiding important medical information, you should know that she has three broken ribs, one of which caused the puncture in her lung. These breaks occurred almost six weeks ago in a fight, I’m told, and so although they shouldn’t give her too much trouble in future, they are something that will need to be taken into consideration from now on. Fortunately, we were able to confirm in surgery that they’re mostly healed at this point, as much as it is possible for them to.” She reported, allowing Bellamy a chance to sneak a frustrated glance at me that made me shrink in shame, before she continued.

“However, her lung has taken some substantial damage. We will need to monitor her breathing to ensure that it continues to heal and doesn’t collapse again. She’s also sustained several second degree burns, which will need regular dressing changes and care. Not to mention that she just underwent life saving surgery which will leave her weak and vulnerable. We’ll keep her here overnight, at least, but I need to make it clear that she is not to go on patrol, or guard duty, or partake in any kind of strenuous activity for some time, and absolutely not without my express permission. This is serious and I expect it to be treated as such.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure that it is.” Bellamy asserted, his voice deeply serious now that he knew the full extent of my injuries and I already recognised from his tone that I was about to be in far worse trouble with him than I ever had been with Abby.

“I’ll let you two catch up for now. But, Indigo, you and I are not finished.” Abby stated, flashing me one last severe glare, before she departed and I gulped down my dread as I anticipated the rest of my punishment from her.

Once we were alone, I could sense the tension in the air and Bellamy turned to study me with an obvious sense of betrayal that made me want the ground to open up and swallow me.

“Indie. What is going on with you?” He asked, furrowing his brows together as if he couldn’t understand what he had just been told and I shuffled in discomfort as his dark eyes studied me. “Why didn’t you tell me about the broken ribs?” He grilled, his tone displaying the hurt that he felt at this discovery and I could hardly stand how awful I felt about this decision now.

“Because I knew that you would make that face.” I answered in a sulky manner as I peeked up at the protective expression that he was wearing and I watched as he attempted to disguise the overbearing concern that was present in his eyes with little success.

“What face?”

“The face that you’re making right now. The poor, delicate Indie face. I hate that face.” I grumbled childishly as I crossed my arms, despising the way that he fretted over me whenever I was hurt and he cracked a slight smile at my confession.

“You know, I hate your face is a terrible way to start an apology.” He replied mockingly and though I was appreciative of his efforts to lighten the conversation, I couldn’t deny the awful feeling that was taking root in the pit of my stomach.

“I know that I should have told you. Even at the time, I knew it was wrong to cover it up.” I began, knitting my hands together nervously and he slipped a hand between them to stop me, instead just holding it comfortingly. “I knew that if you all found out, you would take me off patrol and guard duty, and I would just be trapped inside Arkadia, going totally crazy. It’s selfish, but I wanted to be able to go out with you, to make sure that you were okay. I couldn’t go back to waiting for you to come home.”

“We could’ve restricted your duties, so that you weren’t totally grounded.” He argued, seeming disappointed that I hadn’t trusted him to compromise with me and the guilt of this choice compounded in my chest. “You have to be more careful with your decisions, Indie. Keeping this to yourself could have gotten you seriously hurt at any time. You almost died!” He added with his voice raising in frustration as he considered it and I struggled to defend myself against his points.

“I know. It was stupid and reckless, and I knew that, but I did it anyway.” I confirmed, unable to lie any longer about my mindset at the time and Bellamy tilted his head at me as if to silently ask why I still did it. “I needed to keep coming out with you all, so that I could protect you. I couldn’t stand the thought of anything happening to you whilst I was recovering. As it turns out, my protection didn’t make a damn bit of difference when it really counted.” I added bitterly, dropping my gaze to my lap to avoid his reaction as I felt my eyes welling up and I could sense that he was studying me.

“What are you talking about?” He enquired with confusion, leaning forward to meet my gaze and I cleared my throat in a pointless attempt to keep the emotion from my voice.

“I failed her. Gina died because I left her alone. If I had stayed with her, I could’ve protected her. I could’ve protected all of Mount Weather. Instead, all I did was save myself.” I divulged, a feeling of utter shame overwhelming me as I recalled the moment that I ran, leaving everyone to die and Bellamy grabbed my chin to force me to look at him.

“Hey. Don’t do that to yourself.” He ordered, viewing me with disbelief and I felt my heart breaking in my chest as I tried to push the invasive memory away. “The Ice Nation sent an assassin into somewhere that we considered a safe space. Your guard was down. You weren’t even armed! If you’d been in that room, chances are that you would be dead too. This wasn’t your fault.” He stressed this point, leaning closer as desperately tried to reach past my self-loathing and I felt the first of many tears escape my control.

“I gave up, Bellamy. I just ran out of the facility to save myself. I could’ve saved other people, but I didn’t. I only thought of myself.” I revealed, feeling disgusted as I shared this with the overpowering fear that he would never be able to see me the same way and instead, he surveyed me with a pained understanding.

“You made a difficult decision in an impossible situation. You shouldn’t be ashamed of wanting to live, Love.” He advised, squeezing my hand and I sniffed to contain the wave of tears that willed to flow down my cheeks. “You remember the first time that we had an honest chat? When you followed me into the woods after Atom died, and you almost collapsed, and found me totally losing my mind with guilt?” He recalled quietly, taking me back to an encounter that I had long forgotten and I nodded slowly in response, allowing him to continue.

“You were the one that pointed out that we weren’t trained to make these choices. You told me that I would make mistakes, but that it would allow me to learn. We’ve both made a lot of mistakes since we landed here and we’ve become better survivors from it. At heart though, we’re still those same kids with no training. We’re doing the best that we can. I promise you, the best thing to do in that situation was to live, because we need you. I need you.” He spoke from the heart, reaching out to brush a tear from my cheek with such tenderness that it caused the dam inside me to break and I took a sharp breath as the emotion exploded out of me.

“I couldn’t save her.” I gasped in remorse, finally allowing the true depth of my pain to show and Bellamy shushed me gently. “I tried so hard. I didn’t know what to do. I tried to put pressure on the wounds, and-and I wanted to carry her to medical, but she wouldn’t let me. I really tried to help her and she still died in my arms. I couldn’t save her, Bellamy!” I cried as sobs wracked my chest causing another wave of pain and he pulled me to him.

It was hard to breathe as I wept against his chest, my still recovering lungs struggling to manage the sharp breaths of my cries, but Bellamy simply held me close and smoothed my hair, allowing me an opportunity to fall apart. Whenever I felt this broken, I craved his comfort in a way that I couldn’t put into words and his embrace melted away all of the outside influences that pressed down on me until it was just him and I.

“I know that you did everything you could. You always do. Sometimes it’s just not enough. You can’t blame yourself.” He soothed as he reasoned with my frazzled mind and although logically I knew that he was right, I felt that it would likely take some time before I was able to believe it for myself.

Time passed without my notice as I waited for my emotions to become manageable and Bellamy remained patiently holding me, content to allow me all of the time that I needed with him.

The warmth of his body gradually calmed me and eventually, I noticed that my eyes were stinging with tiredness again. The weight of the anaesthetic still hung over me and as I sat back to look up at him, he gave me a concerned look.

“It looks like you could do with some rest.” He remarked with a subtle sense of worry as I laid back on my pillow with a drowsy head and he lovingly pushed my fuzzy hair behind my ears, his touch lingering on the side of my face. “I’ll come back later to check on you.” He breathed as he moved to stand, but I grabbed his hand in a desperate bid for him to stay, clinging onto him with all the strength that I could muster.

Bellamy paused, looking back down at me from his towering height with a sympathetic smile and I battled to keep my eyes open, unwilling to be parted from him yet. After a few moments of consideration, he returned to sitting on the bed and placed a hand back on my forehead, tracing tender circles on my skin.

“Alright. I’ll stay until you fall asleep.” He conceded, observing me with such fondness that it made my heart swell and I released a small sigh of contentment. “I still need to read you to sleep, afterall.” He added with a smirk and as a smile filled my lips at the idea, I found myself drifting to sleep.

❖ ── ✦ ──『✙』── ✦ ── ❖

When I next woke, it was to an empty bed and the ward was almost totally quiet other than Jackson, who was completing paperwork nearby whilst also keeping an eye on me. It was as if Abby and him expected me to dramatically bolt out of here at any moment, ensuring that I was guarded at all times, but I honestly didn’t have the strength to escape from anywhere at the moment.

Though I wondered where Bellamy had got to, I knew that I was trapped in this bed for now and would need to come to terms with it sooner or later.

I sighed in frustration, looking around for something that could occupy my frantic mind when I noticed a book sitting on the table beside me with a note on the front. The moment that I gripped it, I recognised Bellamy’s scruffy handwriting and a smile filled my face.

I KNOW I PROMISED TO READ THIS TO YOU, BUT I THOUGHT YOU MIGHT NEED SOMETHING TO DO TO KEEP YOU OUT OF MISCHIEF. READ THIS AND REST, MY TROUBLE. B x

Peeling the note from the cover revealed the copy of The Iliad that I had gifted him recently and I appreciated how thoughtful a gesture this was. With little else to occupy me, I fidgeted into a comfortable position and lost myself in the book.

As I absorbed the story, I could just imagine a young Bellamy with his mop of curly hair and adorable freckles, enthralled by the adventures in the pages. The idea caused a sense of happiness that helped to push away the weight of my grief and for a while, I was relaxed. So relaxed, in fact, that I didn’t notice the sound of the doors, or the person approaching, until they cleared their throat and startled me.

“Oh, Kane. You scared me!” I gasped, gripping my chest with a genuine anxiety as I panted and he held his hands up in surrender.

“My apologies.” He commented, glancing down at the book with amusement and I used Bellamy’s note as a bookmark before closing it. “I thought I would check how you were doing. Abby tells me that it was touch and go for a while?” He clarified, settling casually in a seat beside the bed and I gulped at the thought of another lecture.

“I’m okay.” I answered quietly, meeting his eyes with a nervous feeling and wondering if I could survive another talk on my foolish behaviour. “I know that what I did was stupid and irresponsible-”

“I’m not here to punish you. From what I understand, your Chancellor already beat me to it.” He remarked lightly, a playful smile dancing across his face and I breathed a sigh of relief. “I thought that I would update you on the events of the Summit, if you’re feeling up to it?” He offered in his usual wise demeanour and I nodded fervently, pleased that he still addressed me with the same sense of value, even when I felt completely broken and helpless.

“Please. All anyone wants to talk about is how much of an idiot I’ve been.” I grumbled, allowing myself to indulge in a moment of self pity and he chuckled under his breath. “No one has told me anything. What’s our situation?”

“We have become the thirteenth clan in the Commander’s coalition, officially recognised as Skaikru.” He began, causing my mouth to drop open in shock and he rolled up his sleeve to reveal a large brand on his forearm that represented our unity. “Lexa knew that The Ice Nation wished to kill her and she planned to show the coalition that she had acquired Wanheda’s power, without being forced to kill Clarke. We completed the joining process just before Bellamy and the others burst in.” He explained, with every word he spoke further blowing my mind and I struggled to wrap my head around everything that he had just told me.

“Did the Commander have any insight on the attack on Mount Weather?” I managed to form a single question as the puzzle pieces assembled in my mind and he studied me as if he were gauging my reaction.

“The Ice Nation claimed responsibility for the attack at the Summit. Lexa arrested the entire delegation and has vowed to support us in avenging the attack. Indra just confirmed that she will send the Trikru army to protect Arkadia, to ensure that we cannot be ambushed.” He reported in a matter of fact tone and I shifted uneasily, recalling how quickly she had retracted her word at Mount Weather. “Clarke has remained in Polis as Skaikru’s ambassador in the War Council, to ensure that our interests are represented.” He added and I felt a frown immediately cross my face in response to this revelation.

“Clarke?! That’s a mistake.” I blurted, another wave of shock washing over me and Kane raised his brows in question. “I get it. She’s been living as a grounder for all of this time and she facilitated the original alliance with them to get us out of Mount Weather. But you don’t know her like I do. With all due respect, Sir, I think that your view of Clarke is likely biased, because of your rel-friendship with Abby.” I stated, causing him to smile again and it seemed that as usual, he was amused by my brutal honesty.

“If you have concerns about Clarke’s suitability for this role, then I’d like to hear them.” He offered calmly, leaning forward in his seat to place his elbows on his lap and though I had expected him to be offended by my statement, I was glad to find that he was open to discussion.

“Clarke might be living their lifestyle now, but the moment that something doesn’t go her way, she’ll expect the Commander to abandon their rules to accommodate her. In our old camp, I saw her insist on democracy, which only resulted in a majority vote against her plans and she just went behind everyone’s back to continue with her own agenda anyway. Once Clarke has decided to do something, no one else’s opinion matters. Believe me, that attitude doesn’t work in a culture as rigid as the grounders. The first thing that I was taught with Arlo is that you follow orders without question. Clarke is physically incapable of doing that.” I rambled, not hesitating to express my full opinion and Kane smiled proudly at me.

“I appreciate your honesty on this, Indigo. Unfortunately, there is no one else that Lexa respects as she does Clarke and so we will have to rely on her to prove you wrong if we are to stand any chance of surviving this conflict with The Ice Nation. However, knowing your concerns will help us to anticipate any problems.” He remarked finally and I sighed in disappointment, anxiety settling in my stomach at the idea of Clarke sitting in a war council with the very real potential to cause carnage.

“Well, at least the Commander knows everything now. Azgeda are no longer working from the shadows and we have her support.” I conceded, deciding to focus on the positives for now and Kane nodded slowly as he processed my words.

“There is something else that I thought you should now.” He declared, seeming as if he were reluctant to discuss this next topic and I thinned my eyes at him suspiciously. “Bellamy returned his guard jacket to me earlier today. Apparently, he feels as if he is at fault for those we lost at Mount Weather. He doesn’t think that he deserves to be a guard any longer. Usually, I wouldn’t interfere in personal matters like this, but I have a gut feeling that he hasn’t told you about this decision and I hoped that you might be able to talk some sense into him?” He suggested in an uncomfortable manner and I felt my eyes widen in shock, hardly able to believe that he would keep something of this severity from me.

Recalling our earlier conversation, I felt immensely guilty for burdening Bellamy with my own grief when he was already blaming himself for the outcome of Azgeda’s plot and I felt a lump rising in my throat as I thought of him viewing himself in this manner. The wisdom and ease of the advice that he had given in defence of me made sense now that I knew he had already decided that the responsibility laid at his feet and I was hurt that he had put his own feelings aside to listen to me, instead of confiding in me.

“No, actually. He didn’t tell me.” I whispered, fidgeting with my hands nervously and Kane nodded slowly in understanding. “Thank you for letting me know. I will definitely speak to him about it.” I confirmed, forcing a polite smile and he seemed relieved that he might potentially be able to return Bellamy to his post.

“Well, I should get going. There is a memorial starting soon for those lost in Mount Weather.” Kane announced as he rose to his feet reluctantly, seeming as if he was exhausted too and I felt myself straighten up slightly at this revelation.

“Wait. I want to come.” I blurted, staring up at him with a sense of desperation and he studied me sceptically, clearly unable to believe that I would be able to manage it in my current condition. “I know that I need to rest. I’ll be careful and I’ll come straight back after. I just really need this. I was with Gina when she-” I cut myself off abruptly, unsure of how to explain exactly what I had experenced and Kane sighed heavily as he considered me.

“I don’t have the authority to allow you to leave. It’s a medical decision.” He stated regretfully and I felt my shoulders drop in disappointment. “Fortunately, I’m rather close with your doctor. I’ll speak to Abby now. As long as she agrees for you to go, I’ll ask Bellamy to come and collect you.” He added with a sly smile and I felt my face light up in appreciation.

❖ ── ✦ ──『✙』── ✦ ── ❖

Bellamy was quiet when he arrived and though I was alarmed by this, I was quickly distracted when I realised that he had thought to bring me some fresh clothes. He helped me to change into them delicately, before I placed the jacket that had once been his over the top and he chuckled at me for this. I held onto his arm for stability and once Jackson was content that I would be able to manage the walk, we carefully left medical.

As I clung to Bellamy’s bare arm, I noticed that he truly wasn’t wearing his guard jacket any longer and remembered my conversation with Kane in unease.

“You’re not wearing your jacket?” I enquired as casually as possible as we moved delicately through the halls of the Ark and Bellamy sighed slightly, revealing his discomfort at my question.

“Yeah. It got damaged.” He excused in a distracted manner and I could tell that he was struggling to think of a way out of the conversation. “ I need to get a new one. It’s not really a priority at the moment, though.” He reported, glancing down at me with a smile to subtly suggest that caring for me was far more important and I felt my stomach lurch as I realised that he had no intention of telling me that he had quit the guard.

We spent the rest of the walk in silence as my thoughts swirled, fearful over his secretive attitude and I was anxious that he had tried to keep me from the memorial too. It was obvious that he was suffering with guilt, but for whatever reason, he didn’t want my support with it and I hated the thought of him isolating himself with this.

Bellamy led me into the main dining space, where rows of chairs had been set up and tables were lined up at the front for people to leave items. The room was already full of grieving people waiting for the service to start and I could feel the weight of emotion in the air. He guided me into a seat beside him at the end of a row and immediately I began fiddling with my hands due to anxiety.

It wasn’t long before people began to present their tributes for their loved ones and I felt myself shaking as I considered all of the lives that were lost in the attack. Though it was challenging, I was glad that I had forced myself to attend to face it and I knew that this would be the hardest step of my journey to forgiveness. Each speech was heart-breaking to listen to, but I considered it my atonement for not attempting to save them and held myself together despite the storm of emotions in my mind.

My breath caught in my throat as Raven struggled her way to the front and Bellamy took my hand for support, sensing my distress. Her face was already red from tears and she appeared as if she hadn’t slept at all since we returned home. My heart ached for her as I had a unique insight into the pain that she was experiencing and I respected her strength as I compared it to my breakdown in Mount Weather quarantine.

“Gina was kind. She always put everyone else first, sharing love and compassion with anyone who needed it.” Raven began, her hands trembling as she read from a piece of paper and I knew that she was battling to make it through her speech. “She had incredible patience and no matter how hard I tried to push her away, she always stayed at my side. I never appreciated her for how wonderful she was, but I will make sure that she was remembered for it. Gina deserved better.” She finished with a tear rolling down her cheek and sniffed to contain the rest.

Rolling up the paper, Raven reached a shaking hand into her pocket and pulled out a keychain. Though many might have missed it, I noticed the pained reluctance in the way that she tenderly placed it down amongst the other items, as if she were unsure if she was truly ready to part with it and I remembered my insane attachment to the jacket that I currently wore with sympathy. I leaned my face onto Bellamy’s shoulder for comfort as tears of my own escaped my demeanour and he squeezed my arm in silent support.

Before the next name could be honoured, a group of guards entered and bypassed Kane and Abby to report directly to Pike in hushed voices. This made my back stiffen as I thinned my eyes at them suspiciously and I felt Bellamy tense too beside me.

As I scanned the people gathered here, it was clear that the guards arrival had caused a ripple amongst everyone and a feeling of dread settled in my stomach.

It was difficult to hear the conversation that was taking place, but I was sure that I heard a mention of grounders and the way that Pike looked over at our leadership only strengthened my belief in that. He approached them to repeat the information, causing me to feel uncomfortable with his new role of negotiator between the guards and Chancellor that I felt allowed a prime opportunity for manipulation.

“You gave a grounder one of our radios?” Pike stated accusingly, raising his voice for everyone else to hear and I had the distinct feeling that this was no accident, but rather a tactical decision to gain support.

“Sir. Are we under attack?”

A voice called from the crowd who were already murmuring restlessly and though I looked to Bellamy for reassurance, his focus was strictly set on Pike. People began to stand as the feeling of panic spread and I could sense the threat of impending chaos, sending my adrenaline into overdrive.

“No. We are not under attack.” Kane announced as he rose to address the concerned citizens, holding his hands out in an attempt to calm the delicate situation. “The Commander sent a peacekeeping force to ensure that we can defend against any further attacks from The Ice Nation.” He confirmed as he battled the incredibly fragile balance of power that we all knew was hanging on by a thread.

“Peace keeping force?!” Pike spat in disbelief, growing more irate by the second despite the inappropriate timing of this conversation. “Even you can’t be that naive, Marcus!” He yelled, further feeding the tension in the room as more of the crowd stood from their seats and I noticed with confusion that Raven was staring at Bellamy with rage bubbling her face, before returning my face to our leaders.

“Watch your tongue!” Abby warned as she fixed Pike with a stern stare. “You’re talking to the next Chancellor.” She announced and I raised my brows in surprise, having clearly missed this information when I was in recovery. “We’re all grieving. This has been hard on all of us, but we can’t let anger drive our policy.”

“Anger is our policy.” Pike yelled, gaining cheers of support from the watching audience and he used this momentum to step up onto a nearby surface to rally his people. “Now, if they’re here to defend us as you say, then tell them to go home. We can defend ourselves!” He argued, pointing down at Abby disrespectfully and I was struck by how much his attitude reminded me of Bellamy in our first few days on Earth.

In a moment of clarity, his admiration for the man made sense and I realised that Pike represented a simpler time for Bellamy that had been lost in the more nuanced lifestyle that we lived now. We had to consider alliances and politics in our current days, instead of simply focusing on day to day survival as we did in our dropship camp and I could understand why Bellamy would be drawn to the patriotic nature of Pike’s approach. However, this idea frightened me and I knew that I needed to publicly oppose Pike, just as I once had my lover, rising to my feet with a fierce glare.

“You fought against Azgeda warriors for months. How did that work out for you? Lose many people?” I began, drawing his attention as he viewed me with disgust and I crossed my arms defensively. “Believe me when I tell you, those fights were nothing compared to the force of their army. Without the help of Trikru, Azgeda will obliterate us. We stood with Trikru before against the mountain. These people that the Commander sends to protect us are our allies, not our enemies!” I advised, turning to speak to the people that were gathered with hope that I might be able to turn the rising tide, but my words fell on deaf ears due to the suffocating grief that hung over everyone here.

“Miss Sloan. Why don’t you remind us how you were rescued from the mountain?” Pike argued, his face growing smug as he knew that I would have to confirm that the army was not responsible for our rescue and I had a horrible feeling that my statement had only aided his cause. “The grounders abandoned us then and they will do it again. They can’t be trusted.”

“You.” One of the members of Farm Station pointed directly at Lincoln in an aggressive manner and my jaw clenched in anger. “You don’t belong here.” He accused, viewing him with an entirely undeserved hatred and I could hardly believe that things were deteriorating so quickly between our people.

“Then I guess I don’t either!” I declared, moving to shuffle past Bellamy so that I could stand beside Lincoln in support, but before I could even exit the row of seating, the situation continued to worsen.

“He’s one of them!” The ring leader yelled, rapidly prompting similar statements to be yelled by the crowd and it was clear that people were jumping on the opportunity to rid the camp of the person that they viewed as an outsider, already forgetting everything that Lincoln had done for us.

Bellamy rose to his feet to grab my arm, holding me in place protectively and whilst I was distracted by attempting to shake him off, the confrontation escalated to violence. The man who had begun this conflict threw a rock at Lincoln, which struck his head with a worrying impact and Bellamy was the first to leap into action as the Farm Station resident moved to attack Lincoln.

In no time at all, a fight erupted between people loyal to Kane and Abby, and Farm station, and although my mind was exploding with rage, my body could not keep up. My legs shook weakly as I struggled to remain upright and I had to lean on a chair to steady myself as the room spun around me.

I noticed Abby hurrying past me, working her way around the edge of the chaos to reach Lincoln, when the sound of a loud whistle drew my attention.

“Hey!” Pike bellowed loudly enough to bring everything to a halt and I was pleased to notice that some of our original guards from before we discovered Farm Station had leapt into action to pin down the instigators. “We do not attack our own! Fighting each other only makes us weak. The enemy is not in this camp. The enemy is out there!” He gestured to the gates and I glanced over at Lincoln to notice that he refused help from Abby, who called after him that he needed to go to Medical as he stormed out.

“You’re right. The enemy is out there. And it’s Azgeda. It’s not Trikru and it’s not Lincoln.” I clarified loudly, using what little energy had left to defend my family with passion and Bellamy nodded in support.

“Sir. We need to arrest that man responsible for this assault. Lincoln is one of us.” Bellamy advised, fortunately addressing Kane rather than Pike and before I could praise him for this, Raven interrupted with a loud scoff.

“How like you to immediately defend the grounder.” She spat, glaring at Bellamy with such venom that it shocked us and we both stared at her with confusion. “You’ve got some brass even being here when you’re the reason that they’re all dead.” She accused, moving closer to instigate an argument and I struggled my way over to them to calm things before another fight broke out.

“What are you talking about?” Bellamy investigated, forcing his voice into an even tone despite the emotional turmoil that I knew he was covering and I could see the hurt in his eyes as he regarded her.

“You told us to stay whilst you went to the Summit. You were the one who vouched for that grounder, even though you knew that she was Ice Nation. Even your girlfriend wasn’t sure about trusting her, but you did it anyway and you nearly got her killed too! You practically served us up on a fucking platter for the grounders. It wasn’t enough for you, killing everyone in Mount Weather once, was it? You just had to do it again!” She yelled, stepping forward to push his chest aggressively and Miller rushed over to restrain her, his movements careful so that he wouldn’t hurt her.

“I’ll never forgive you! It’s your fault that Gina is dead! You took everything from me!” She screamed, manically fighting against Miller as she tried to attack and Bellamy simply stared at her in stunned silence, frozen to the spot in horror.

“That’s enough, Raven. You’re only making things worse!” I snapped, stepping between them with a false strength as I faced her down and I was able to catch a glimpse of the broken person that hid beneath Raven’s rage. “Gina wouldn’t want you to do this and you know it. Take a walk.” I advised calmly, causing her anger to dissolve into pain and she shook Miller’s grip from her shoulders to march out of the room shamefully.

The moment that the conflict was over, I felt as if I might collapse. Noticing my sudden vulnerability as I turned back to face him, Bellamy gripped my arms to keep me from falling and I stared up at him with an apologetic expression.

“Baby. You know none of that was true, right?” I whispered, encouraging him to meet my eyes and the way that he nodded was as if he were simply brushing off my concern, rather than actually absorbing my reassurances. “She’s hurting and she lashed out. It doesn’t make it okay and it definitely doesn’t make her right. Don’t let her get in your head.” I insisted, already terrified that she had only intensified his guilt and his face revealed how much her words had hurt him.

“I’ve got some things to wrap up here and then I’ll get you back to Medical.” He answered flatly as if he were simply reciting a well practiced line and I sighed in disappointment, hating that he was pushing me away.

“It’s alright. I’m gonna find Lincoln and see if I can get him to go with me.” I suggested, already keen to make sure that his injury was treated and Bellamy nodded in agreement. “Come and see me when you’re done. Please.” I instructed, flashing him a supportive smile and his only response was a slight hum as he strode away from me, leaving me with an empty feeling in my stomach.

Grabbing a clean piece of fabric from nearby, I made my way outside and tried to push aside my anxiety as I focused on searching for Lincoln.

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