#silent laughter chap 5

[here-have-some-stories]

Silent Laughter Chapter 5

I startled awake to find myself lying on the grass of my backyard, the skies dark. I must have fainted from the sight of my dad and dreamt it all. I stood up slowly, keeping my arms out to keep me steady from the wave of dizziness that washed over me. It took a while for my eyes to adjust, and when they did I saw that my dad’s body was still in the fence, though it did look like that he had slid a little further down the spokes. I looked around me to see if anything was there, if the creature was back to make the nightmare I had just have come true. There was nothing so I relaxed a little bit.

I walked back inside to the house and was glad to see that there was no noose hanging from the ceiling. I quickly walked over to the family computer that was in the corner of the room and turned it on briefly to check the date. It was a new day. Twelve minutes past three in the morning of the new day to be exact. 

I ran to my room and marked off another day with an X on my calendar.

‘Now what?’ I said out loud to myself. There wasn’t really anything to do at three in the morning, and I definitely didn’t want to go to sleep in fear of another nightmare happening and I didn’t want to watch TV in fear of the nightmare from just minutes ago happening to me in real life. So instead, I picked what would probably be the stupidest thing to do. I went on a walk, outside, in the dark, where a strange creature was probably hunting me.

It was strangely calm outside, no noises, no disturbances. I didn’t like it. It was too unnatural. Normally my neighbourhood had dogs barking, babies crying and other disturbances like that. Even at three in the morning. The strange silence made it seem like everyone had disappeared. They probably had. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t find peace in the peace.

There were no cars going through the street, so I walked in the middle of the road. Might not have been a good idea. I was in more open space that way, meaning there were more angles for something to sneak up on me from. I folded my arms and kept them clutched close to me as I walked along, my body tense the whole time.

There was no wind blowing past, yet the leaves in the trees still shook and swayed. I wasn’t going to spend any time on how that was possible, there was no point. There was no point to anything anymore. My parents were already gone, everyone else seemed to have disappeared, and I probably didn’t have a lot of time left before the creature came to find me as well. Maybe it would be better if I just ended it all now, got it over with. It would be better to go out on my own terms.

I was shocked at myself. How could I even think of something like that. Suicide? No. Wasn’t an option. I was going to stay in this world, and I was going to get through this. I’d figure out what was happening, I’d put an end to it, and I’d leave it all behind me. I would start a new life. Get good grades in school, make good choices, get a good career, start a family. I realised that while I was having these thoughts I had stopped walking and was just standing there in the middle of the road, staring at the ground. I looked up, half expecting to see something horrifying. But there was nothing.

I kept walking, this time more confidently. I uncrossed my arms from my chest and instead put them in my pockets. There was a new certain swagger to my step if I do say so myself. 

The swagger disappeared almost as soon as it had come. Turns out something horrifying had happened while I was lost in thought. 

In front of each house, there was a tree. That wasn't unusual, they had always been there. They had each been planted there when the houses had been put up. But what was unusual was the freshly placed nooses tied to the branches, with freshly hung bodies swaying back and forth, their eyes missing just like before. The bodies belonged to my neighbours, but the trees they were hanging from weren't the trees in front of their houses, but the trees in front of somebody else's. But the hanging bodies weren’t even the worse part. It was the skin, carelessly draped across the branches. The skin of the children living in the street. The rest of their bodies were nowhere in sight. 

I looked around some more and saw cut up limbs and pieces of pets in the gutters, looking like they had just been thrown in there. It was so far the worst sight I had seen. Just as I thought the horror of the street was over, I heard a bubbling noise coming from behind me. I looked to see one of the drains flooding over with a black, tar-like substance. It was the same black goopy stuff that had been pouring out of my mum and dad’s eyes before. I didn’t wait any longer. I ran back to my house. Everything seemed like a blur as I sprinted past. Out of the corner of my eye I could see the creature standing on the footpath, with that wicked smile on its face. It wasn’t moving, it was standing still, yet it was still always standing in the corner of my eye as I ran, as if it was teleporting or glitching through reality.

It seemed to take forever to get back to my house but I finally did. There was no sign of the creature anywhere. I figured it would be a good idea to start getting some defence ready. I had no idea if whatever I could come up with would hold back the thing, but it would be better than nothing surely. I ran into the kitchen and grabbed all the kitchen knives, bringing them back  to my room. My second trip to the kitchen consisted of me gathering up food and anything else I might need. I dumped them all in the middle of my floor in my room. I then grabbed a bucket of cold water, an empty bucket, some soap and some toilet paper. I would be locking myself in my room after all.

After I had everything I needed I ripped the sheets off of my bed and pulled the mattress, placing it up against my window. I moved my desk in front of the mattress to keep it secure. I quickly ran into my parents and grabbed their mattress as well, planning to keep it secure against my door.

With the mattresses covering up all possible entry ways, I settled myself against the corner of my now uncomfortable bed, back against the wall, holding a long and sharp kitchen knife out in front of me, and stayed alert. 

Next Chapter ->

Please give feedback if you have any, I would love to hear what I did right and what I can improve on. If you have suggestions or requests for any other stories you want me to write I am open to ideas. I hope you liked it.

[activesplooger]

ʜᴇʟᴘ ᴍᴇ | ᴘᴀʀᴛ 6 | ᴠᴏx x ᴀꜱꜱɪꜱᴛᴀɴᴛ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ: (MDNI) YAYAYYA DONEE!! shorter chap, sorry, but it has a set up for a long chapter! pt.7 here we come! ehhehe

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Alastors back after 7 years! Vox goes into a downward spiral and retreats to his penthouse for awhile. Meanwhile, you're stuck on Vox babysitting duty so you yell at him to get his shit together.

ᴄᴡ: vox being pathetic and dumb

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2,370

ᴘᴀʀᴛ 1 | ᴘᴀʀᴛ 2 | ᴘᴀʀᴛ 3 | ᴘᴀʀᴛ 4 | ᴘᴀʀᴛ 5 | ᴘᴀʀᴛ 6

ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀᴘᴏꜱᴛ!

"FUUUHUUUHUUUCK"

The duet between the Radio and TV demon had been broadcast throughout hell; it was pretty hard to miss. You wouldn't be surprised if the other rings had heard the clash as well.

Vox hadn't seen the Radio Demon in 7 years, not since he presumably got his ass kicked all those years ago. The first time you got involved, you got choked half to death. So naturally, you stayed out of it when he first heard the news, busying yourself with menial tasks and attempting to drown out the noise with the music in your headphones. It worked for a moment until suddenly the power goes out; the floor you were on became pitch black and the music that played in your headphones had come to a halt.

There was a pause for a moment, followed immediately by Vox cussing at the top of his lungs. Navigating in the dark, you managed to find your way to Vox's office. Upon approaching him, you notice his distraught expression, eyes fixated on the plethora of monitors displaying "No Signal" before him. "Vox?" you say quietly. No response. "Hello? Sir?" you try again, and yet, you get nothing. You wave your hands in front of his face a bit frantically to try to get his attention, "Vox, answer me!". After trying to snap him out of his lifeless trance, you give up with a groan and walk out. You had things you needed to do anyways.

__

And that was the last time you had seen him. Vox had pathetically retreated to his penthouse for the past week after a crushing defeat in song and in his attempt to have an employee spy on Alastor.

Things were fine initially, until the employees started getting way too casual. People were taking days off without warning or permission, they weren't doing their jobs efficiently, and on top of it you had to carry all their slack! Well, you didn't have to, but you felt like you needed to so you did. And holy shit it was taxing on you.

You tried to take on Vox's role and command the employees, but you only got a scoff or a laugh. Eugh, so embarrassing... It couldn't hurt to try again right? Maybe this time you could actually have an impact!

Standing in the front of the office, you call out to get everyone's attention, "Excuse me! Everyone, I have an announcement!". The employees glance up at you from their computers with an unamused expression. "Look, I understand that Vox hasn't been around lately, but that doesn't mean we can just screw around, okay? So let's get work just as efficiently as when Vox was here.".

It goes quiet for a moment before the room erupts in laughter. "Like we'd ever listen to you!" an employee calls out, eliciting more laughter. You groan and drag a hand down your face. "Oh fuck all of you," you mutter. Another worker walked by when you said that and snickered, "Speaking of fucking, they're totally screwing the boss.". "What?!" you exclaim. Where the fuck did that come from?! "Pft, yeah," a cocky sinner from accounting remarks, "who wants to listen to some whore?".

That's it. You march up to the hysteric sinner and knee him in the crotch. The office watches in shock before scurrying back to their desk and quickly go back to work. You turn back to the employees, your more demonic features now emerging as you face them; a black tail whips behind you and the sclera of your eyes turns red. "Anyone else have anything to share?!" you say exasperated. Everyone is silent as you talk, eyes fixed on their screens as they clack away on their keyboards. Taking a deep breath, you smooth your hair back to calm yourself. "Good," your demonic features start to withdraw as you relax.

Walking off, you make your way to the elevator, aggressively pressing the button to Vox's penthouse. __

You grab the spare key Vox had given you for emergencies and unlock the door. Vox's pet hammerhead shark, Vark, greats you by tackling you to the floor and giving you puppy-like licks. Letting out an "oof" as you hit the hard floor, you prop yourself up on your elbows. "Hey cutie," you say with a baby voice as you pet him, "where's your owner? Huh boy? Where's that mopey wittle shit?". Vark barks in response, walking off you and leading you down the corridor of Vox's sleek penthouse. Once you reach the end of the hall, Vark pushes the door open with his head and trots into the room.

Vox groans as the door lets in a peak of light. The room is dark and messy, junk food wrappers scatter the floor beside the bed where Vox lays. Vox hides under the blankets and whines, "'s too bright... go away...". You sigh and march over to where Vox is, "Vox, this is ridiculous.". Grabbing hold of his bedding, you strip the blankets off of him.

Vox whimpers and curls up in a fetal position, "Fuck off, Y/N.". "No," you protest sternly, "you have a business to run! Now stop whining and get up!". He sits up abruptly and speaks in a hoarse voice, "Alastors back!". "So?". "So?!" he responds incredulously, "so, I'm fucked! I don't want to see that red fucker again! I'm gonna get my shit rocked.". "No, you're not," you roll your eyes, "he's been dicking around for 7 years doing God knows what while you've been expanding your empire. I'm not saying you should pick a fight, but I'm sure if something happened you'd kick his ass.".

"You're just saying that to make me feel better. Don't lie to me, I fucking hate that," he replies in a bitchy tone. "That's it," you grab Vox off the bed and sling him over your shoulder. "What the fuck?! Why am I being punished?! You're the one who told me to be all vulnerable and shit," he yells.

You walk into the techy lavish bathroom and set him down on the counter, "I meant vulnerable not pathetic!".

"What's the difference?!".

"Dear God," you mutter to yourself, rubbing your temples in a circular motion, "Vox, listen up. You're gonna get your act together and go to work. Now go get showered!". "Psh," he crosses his arms, "you don't tell me what to do.". "Vox!" you warn. "Fine, fine, Jesus..." Vox hops off the counter and starts the shower.

__

About ten minutes passes before Vox emerges from the bathroom, a towel loosely tied around his hips as he makes his way over to the closet. You had been tidying up the room he rotted in while he showered, throwing away any trash and brightening up the room with light.

"Wheres my suit?" he asks flatly. "Oh it's-" Vox turns to you ask you speak, revealing his toned navy chest to your gaze. You realized that you had been staring directly at his chest subconsciously, a blush starting to form across your face as your heartrate picks up. Grabbing the suit off the dresser, you shove it in his face and usher him out of the room, "Hereyougobyeeee!".

You lean against the door and cover your burning face with your hands, "What was that...".

__

After Vox gets dressed he knocks on the door, "Can I come in now or are you gonna kick me out again?". "Ha ha, funny," you say sarcastically, "you can come in.".

Vox comes in and pulls open his dresser drawer, pulling out a red clip on tie. You tilt your head at him, "A clip on?". "Yeah? I never learned how to tie an actual one, besides, this looks fine.". "It's just tacky". "Hey!" he calls out defensively. You chuckle and dig in his dresser drawer for a red unmade tie, "Sorry sorry, here,". Reaching up, you slide the fabric in the collar of his shirt and begin to tie.

Your chest rubs slightly against his every so often as you had to be in pretty close proximity to tie the bowtie. Vox's breath quietly hitches as you brush up against him, his palms starting to feel sweaty over the simple graze of skin, berating himself in his head as he tries to reassure himself that its just a simple touch! So what if he hasn't felt a touch as electric as this in years?? It doesn't mean anything, right??

Vox's mind spirals until suddenly you pull back. "There," you grab his shoulders and pivot him to a mirror, "doesn't that look better?". "Yeah.. whatever, thanks," he mumbles. You chuckle and grab your things, "See you at work, Vox.".

"Yeah, see you."

__

"You bought them a giftbasket?" Velvette asks while Vox paces Valentino's floor of the V-tower. Vox stops pacing and sits down on the couch, "I know! Who fucking does that?". "Oh, papi," Valentino coos, snaking two of his hands over to Vox's shoulders and massaging them, "socializing was never your strong suit~". Vox pushes Valentino away from him, "Oh fuck off, Val!".

Valentino chuckles, "Relax Voxy, it's not that big of a deal. Besides, they probably don't even know it was from you anyways.". Burying his face in his hands, Vox mumbles sheepishly, "...I left a note.". Velvette sighs, "For fucks sake, Vox-". "And I watched them open it from behind a wall... they totally caught me...".

Both Velvette and Valentino groan in unison. "Vox, why can't you be normal for once?" she asks, pointing an angry finger at Vox. "Sweetheart, Vox can't be normal. Especially when he's got a crush on that sexy little assistant of his~" the moth demon teases. Vox whips his head out of his hands and glares at Val, "Don't call them that, why are you always such a fucking pervert?!".

Reaching his hands out, Val cradles Vox's face and whispers seductively, red smoke seeping out of his mouth and into Vox's face, "You love it~". Once more, Vox pushes Val off him and gets up off the couch, "Eugh, that shit doesn't work on me, Val.". Vox sighs and sits on the arm chair adjacent to the couch, "Anyway, before I got fucking molested, y/n is just- y'know, the first real friend I've had since, well, ever really.".

"That's fucking sad," Velvette remarks as she absent mindedly scrolls on her phone. "Fuck you too, Vel," Vox deadpans at Velvette. Valentino feigns upset as he speaks in a mocking voice, "Awww, are we not your friends, Voxy?". "No, you guys are pieces of shit I happen to tolerate," Vox states as he glares at them both, eliciting light laughter from the two.

Relaxing his expression, Vox rests his elbows on his knees and stares at the ground, "I just can't figure why I forget how to act around them.". Velvette groans and looks up from her phone at Vox, "I don't fucking know! Maybe you're just a creep!". Valentino chuckles as he adds on, "Or maybe he's in love~". Vox sighs, gets up, and walks out, flipping them off as he exits, "Okay, fuck you both, thanks for being absolutely useless.".

"Love you too!" Velvette calls out with a snicker.

__

After receiving zero help from the other Vees, Vox decided he needed to get his act together around you. Maybe if you guys bonded outside of work, Vox wouldn't be such a mess! Vox wasn't entirely sure it would work, but he hoped it would. What if he lost you like he lost Alastor all those years ago? This needed to be perfect. With a deep breath, makes his way to your office, trying to ignore his rapidly beating heart.

You had been working at your desk for about an hour, ignoring the awkward stares other employees had given you from your outburst earlier. Vox knocks on the door to your office and walks in, "Hey". Looking up from your desk, you smile softly, "Hey, glad to see your back at work finally.". "Yeah, uhm," Vox walks in and closes the door behind him, "Can we talk?". "Hm? Sure, what is it?" you stop typing and push your keyboard aside, turning your full attention to Vox. Vox somehow forgets how to speak, a sudden lump in forming in his throat, "Well, I was wondering if uhm…". He trails off, leaving you confused, "If what?".

"If…. if you kicked another employees in the balls today?" he backs out of his initial plan pathetically, mentally wanting to slap himself in the face. "Oh shit," your face burns red, "you heard about that?". Vox nods, plastering on a wide grin to convey a normal outward appearance, "Yeah just some employees have been complaining and-". "Am I in trouble?" you hesitantly ask. "No no, I get it, they probably fucking deserved it.".

You chuckle and nod, "He did.". Vox smiles as you chuckle, snickering quietly to himself along with you. Your laughter dies down and look back up at him "So, was that all?". "Oh, yeah I guess I should get back to work then," he says quietly, trying to ignore the pang of disappointment he feels. You nod and get back to work before he suddenly pipes up, "Actually, no, I wanted to ask you if you wanted to go out to dinner with me.". He suddenly blurts out, not realizing the romantic connotation until after he spoke. "Oh-" your eyes widen in surprise. Was he fucking with you or something?

Vox quickly backtracks, "For a business meeting! Yeah, uh, some investors are in town and they want to meet over dinner.". "Right," you say softly, part of you was a little disappointed but that's not something you wanted to get into right now, "where are we going?". "Hells Kitchen, tomorrow at 7." he states. "Ooo Fancy! I'll dress accordingly.". "Alright… goodbye." he says before exiting your office. "Bye, Vox.".

Vox's breathing quickens as he exits, a fucking "investors meeting"? What's he gonna do when the "investors" don't show up? That's surely gonna raise some eyebrows! Why couldn't he have just said something normal like going out for drinks? Vox walks into his office and slumps into his office chair, running a hand over his face, "Fuckkk me…".

__ IYGAHDSUHWFJWIEJF i hope ygs like this one i think its cuteee. it segues into a lil bit of romance aha wink wink

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ʟᴍᴋ ɪꜰ ᴜ ᴡᴀɴɴᴀ ʙᴇ ᴀᴅᴅᴇᴅ

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Lady - 3

Character: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Eddie Horniman x Female Reader

Summary: After fifteen years away, a step-daughter returns for her Duke step-father's funeral, only to inherit a staggering 8 million pound debt and strike a risky deal with a criminal underworld figure.

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Chap 1, Chap 2, Chap 3 , Chap 4 , Chap 5, Chap 6 , Chap 7.

Your ongoing support means the world to me! Reblogs are a fantastic way to help spread the word about my work. I'll do my best to reply to all your comments.

Thank you for your continued encouragement! ❤️❤️❤️

You slammed your hands onto the mahogany table, fixing Bucky with a disbelieving glare. "You want me to what?"

Bucky leaned back in his chair, a sly smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he looked you up and down. "I want you to put a small bomb into a cake."

You shook your head in disbelief. "This is the most insane thing I've ever heard."

Earlier, 30 minutes ago:

You hadn't anticipated any of this when you decided to pay Bucky a visit. Stepping into the nightclub he owned, you were met with a wave of pulsating music and flashing lights, a stark contrast to the quiet elegance of the estate.

"Your Grace, welcome!" Bucky's voice boomed over the crowd, drawing attention from every corner of the room. Rolling your eyes at his exuberance, you made your way up to the second floor, feeling eyes following your every move.

Bucky left the table where girls surrounded him, their eyes shooting daggers at you as if you were stealing him away.

Your thoughts echoed, 'I don't even want to be in the same room with him.'

As he approached you, Bucky flashed you a charming smile. "What do you think about this place?"

You shrugged nonchalantly. "It's nice, I guess."

He chuckled, leaning in closer. "The Duke's been turning a pretty penny with this joint."

"Really?" you replied, genuinely surprised.

He nodded, his gaze lingering on you. "Let's talk privately. I know you hate being here."

You followed Bucky to a quieter corner, the thumping bass of the music fading into the background as you settled into a booth. The air was thick with the scent of perfume and cigarette smoke.

You arrived at Bucky's office, the room exuding an air of power and authority. As he gestured towards a board adorned with photos and plans, you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease settle in.

Pointing your finger towards the board, you narrowed your eyes. "Five photos, five explosions."

Bucky snapped his fingers in agreement, a smirk playing on his lips. "That's right."

You studied the images closely, your mind racing with the implications of what Bucky was asking of you.

"What exactly do you do?" you inquired, your voice betraying a hint of apprehension.

Bucky leaned back in his chair, his gaze steady as he met your eyes. "When the police, lawyers, and bribes don't work, that's where I come in."

Your stomach churned at his words, the gravity of the situation sinking in. "Private executioner," you muttered, the realization hitting you like a ton of bricks.

Bucky chuckled, his laughter ringing out in the dimly lit room. "You make it sound scary. But you're right."

Bucky's words sent a shiver down your spine, his tone oozing with confidence and determination.

"But rest assured, Your Grace," he continued his voice smooth yet laced with an undeniable edge. "I won't let you do the dirty work."

As Bucky explained the situation, his hands moved with purpose, punctuating each word. His eyes glinted with determination, a silent challenge in his gaze.

"You see, this Duke owns a nightclub in the same area as me," Bucky began, his voice low but intense. "He feels threatened by my club's success, so he's been causing unnecessary problems for me."

You furrowed your brow, trying to process the gravity of his request. "So it's about business competition," you mused aloud, your arms crossed defensively over your chest.

Bucky caught your hesitation, his jaw clenching slightly as he sensed your reluctance. "Look, I know it's a big ask," he conceded, his tone softening just a fraction. "But this Duke needs to learn that he can't push me around."

As Bucky dropped the bombshell revelation, his voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper, his eyes darting around the room to ensure privacy.

"And there's another thing," he began, his tone grave. "This person we're dealing with... he's a predator."

Your stomach churned at the revelation, a surge of anger and revulsion coursing through you. Yet, amidst the darkness of the situation, a glimmer of relief washed over you – knowing that your actions would be directed against someone so vile lessened the weight of your conscience.

"What kind of explosion are we talking about?" you asked, your voice edged with determination, ready to take on the task.

He clapped his hand "Finally, we're speaking at the same language."

Bucky's reply came without hesitation, his gaze unwavering. "A cake that could explode."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his seemingly flippant response. "Stop joking, please," you retorted, your words laced with a mixture of disbelief and incredulity.

Bucky chuckled at your skepticism. "I'm not kidding," he insisted, his expression serious despite the playful tone in his voice.

He leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he outlined his vision. "I want it to be dramatic. When the cake explodes, I want him to be thrown back, like in those superhero movies where the hero sends the villain flying into a wall."

With a theatrical flourish, he mimicked the sound effect. "Whoosh..."

You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at his theatrics. "Whoosh, huh?" you repeated, mimicking a baseball swing with your hand.

Bucky grinned in response, playing along with your jest. "Yeah, whoosh," he affirmed, nodding in agreement.

As you watched Bucky's playful antics, a fleeting thought crossed your mind – if only you could open his head and see what was truly happening inside.

As the countdown approached its final moments, you and Bucky assumed your roles as waitstaff, blending seamlessly into the crowd gathered for the Duke of Langley's party.

Behind the bar, Bucky expertly mixed drinks while you diligently wiped down glasses, your eyes fixed on the unsuspecting target near the elaborate cake.

As the Duke began his speech, the guests gravitated towards him, leaving the bar momentarily deserted. Bucky stood closer to you, his presence looming over you as he leaned in slightly. "I still wonder why you wandered off alone to the U.S."

Bucky asked, his tone casual but with a hint of curiosity, "Was the rumor true that your stepdad kicked you out?"

You shot him a sharp glance, mentioning your past hitting a nerve. Bucky quickly raised his hands in a placating gesture. "Sensitive topic, I see. Just trying to make conversation," he offered with a shrug, his attention already shifting to his watch.

With a swift tug, he pulled you down to the ground just as the countdown reached its climax. His smirk was unmistakable as he whispered, "5... 4... 3... 2... 1."

And then, the explosion.

A deafening 'BANG' reverberated through the room, followed by startled cries and screams.

The force of the explosion sent a rush of wind through the room, causing glass to shatter and chaos to erupt. In the midst of the commotion, Bucky instinctively shielded you, his protective stance contrasting sharply with the panic unfolding around you.

As screams filled the air and guests scrambled for safety, Bucky couldn't help but chuckle lowly at the scene before him. Through the haze of smoke and confusion, he spotted the Duke of Langley sprawled on the ground, unconscious.

"Hahahaha," Bucky laughed, his amusement evident as he surveyed the aftermath.

But while he found humor in the chaos, you couldn't quite grasp what was so amusing about the situation.

For the next couple of days, you couldn't shake the memory of the Duke's unfortunate fate. Even as Hugo excitedly dragged you to a tennis tournament – a sport you cared little for, except when it came to Hugo's enthusiasm – you found it hard to muster any interest.

Seated in the VIP area, you watched the players enter the field without much enthusiasm.

"Something bothering you?" A deep voice interrupted your thoughts, and you turned to see Eddie beside you. Dressed sharply in a suit with a polo shirt underneath and sporting sunglasses, he smiled at you, his presence offering a welcome distraction.

You sighed, feeling the weight of recent events. "Yeah, just... recent events, you know?"

Eddie's smile faltered slightly as he picked up on your somber mood. "I heard about the nightclub incident. Quite the news."

Eddie's mention of the "sweet bomb" at Duke Langley's party caught you off guard, and you looked at him with a questioning expression.

He chuckled at your reaction. "That bomb reminded me of the time when you wanted to run away from the dormitory and decided to make a big scene."

You couldn't help but laugh. "You remember that?"

Eddie leaned in closer, his expression curious. "Is this related to Barnes?"

You nodded. "Yup. Seems like I've gotten myself into quite the mess."

Eddie's tone was somber as he addressed you. "Y/N, I didn't expect you to make a bomb for Barnes."

You sighed, feeling the weight of the situation. "8 million pounds, Eddie. Even if I sold my kidney and heart, it still wouldn't cover it."

He chuckled softly. "If you want, I could make him go away."

But you shook your head, remembering Bucky's enjoyment amidst the chaos at Duke Langley's party. "It's better if you don't get near him. For your own good, for your mental health."

"Duke of Langley had it coming," you added, your voice tinged with resignation and defiance.

Eddie's lips curled into a wry smile, a glint of amusement flashing in his eyes. "That's one way to put it. But you've certainly made a splash."

You arched an eyebrow, curiosity piqued by his cryptic remark. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Eddie's expression turned serious as he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You've caught the attention of some dangerous individuals. Now everyone from petty thugs to organized crime bosses sees you as a valuable asset."

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@mostlymarvelgirl

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@charmedbysarge

@rebeccapineapple

@almosttoopizza

@cakesandtom

@njavezan

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Author Note: Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account.

Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating.

Only if you feel like it!

Here's the link: Ko-fi

Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!

[tourdion]

Podcast Title: "Three Bean Salad - Episode: The Cohen Conundrum"

Intro Music: Quirky Jazz with a Dash of Mischief

Host 1 (Henry Paker): Greetings, salad aficionados! It's Henry Paker here, your salad sommelier.

Host 2 (Mike Wozniak): And I'm Mike Wozniak, the bean buffoon.

Host 3 (Benjamin Partridge): And I'm Benjamin Partridge, the legume luminary. Today, we've got a salad sensation for your auditory taste buds – the perplexing world of Leonard Cohen.

Segment 1: "Cohen Quirks"

Henry Paker: So, chaps, what's the weirdest thing you've discovered about Leonard Cohen?

Mike Wozniak: Did you know he lived in a Buddhist monastery for years? I can't even manage a weekend without Wi-Fi.

Background: Laughter Mix

Segment 2: "Culinary Cohen Creations"

Benjamin Partridge: I did some digging, and it turns out Cohen had a peculiar fondness for artichokes. What do you think he'd pair them with?

Henry Paker: Knowing Cohen's taste for the poetic, probably a balsamic reduction with a side of existential reflection.

Background: Playful Banter

Segment 3: "Cohen Cover Culinary Chaos"

Mike Wozniak: Alright, lads, if Cohen covered a cooking show, what do you think it'd be like?

Benjamin Partridge: Picture this: Cohen narrating the slow, dramatic process of caramelizing onions. A symphony of sizzling and soulful poetry.

Background: Imaginary Cooking Show Music

Segment 4: "Bean Ballads"

Henry Paker: If Leonard Cohen wrote a song about beans, what do you reckon it'd be called?

Benjamin Partridge: "The Ballad of the Beleaguered Bean," a melancholic ode to a legume lost in a sea of salad greens.

Background: Humorous Bean-themed Imagery

Segment 5: "Cohen Comedy Challenge"

Mike Wozniak: Time for the Cohen Comedy Challenge! Tell me your best Cohen-inspired bean joke.

Henry Paker: Why did Leonard Cohen invite beans to his concert?

Mike Wozniak: I don't know, why?

Henry Paker: Because they always know when to 'bean' silent!

Background: Laughter Eruption

Outro:

Benjamin Partridge: And there you have it, folks – a Cohen Conundrum for the salad-loving soul. Until next time, keep tossing those beans and unraveling the mysteries of musical maestros.

Henry Paker: Stay tuned for more salad shenanigans and bean banter. Cheers!

Outro Music: Whimsical Fusion of Bean-inspired Jazz and Cohen Classics

[notthatalex]

First and last lines!

rules: post the first and last lines of the last 10 fics you posted.

I was tagged by @japhan2024. Slight problem is that I don't have 10 fics yet and some of them are multi chap fics that aren't completed yet. So you are getting 7, with 2 of those not actually being the last line, but the last line that is posted at this moment.

(Wip) reclusive and generally unpleasant

First:

A middle aged woman stands in the cold autumn wind, the bitter breeze tousling her coat as water falls down its length, forming tiny puddles at her feet.

Last:

Only her, concrete and nicotine. Nothing better in this world.

2. (wip) The Discord

First:

Last:

3. Grace and The Chosen are abstinence fans

First:

A blond boy is wandering the halls of Hatchetfield High. His katana is swinging from side to side, following the rhythm of his steps. Yet, the motion isn't fluid.

Last:

Something is off with her, something more than the obvious.

4. It's my world - you're just living in it

First:

Hello book,

Is this how you start a diary entry?

Last:

And so, I remain here, a silent watcher, a ghost of the past. This is my place. And he has his own.

~ The Chosen

5. Fellowship of Repression

First:

The Chosen spends his day much like he spends most of his days: sitting in his room, playing games, always ready in case the world needs him.

Last:

The conversation finally drifts to lighter topics as they share stories, laughter, and delicious food.

6. Let me have a little bit attachment - as a treat

First:

"The jedi code you know, master kenobi"

Last:

"[...] Believe me you don't want to talk to pissed cody if you value your life."

7. Be weak for me

First:

Cody was very relieved that he and his partner, Obi-Wan made it safe out of that battle. Skywalker really saved him today.

Last:

"Of course sir" Cody said while he chuckled quietly.

[bindtorturekillme]

Your Eyes, Vacant and Stained

Ch.8 - 4k

Pairing: Frank Iero x Gerard Way

He dwelled for a while on the heat of Gerard’s breath against his mouth. The hint of cigarettes that never quite stuck as strongly as Frank was used to.

He felt his face get hot as he thought about how nice it would’ve been to lean into Gerard. Wondering what Gerard would’ve done in return.

It would be a lie if Frank said he never noticed Gerard checking him out or leaning more towards him when they’re standing together.

Warnings 

Gore, Death, Murder, WORK-IN-PROGRESS, not completed (and chapters unknown) but I know the ending, trust me guys I will write it, I just need people to love this idea with me, Zombies, Gay, mcr??

Support my AO3 with part eight otherwise, enjoy ♥

Chap.1 | Chap.2 | Chap.3 | Chap.4 | Chap.5 | Chap.6 | Chap.7 | Chap. 9 | Chap.10 |

Dinner that night was mostly silent, but completely awkward. Mostly silent because you would need to glue Scarlet and Charlotte’s mouth shut to get them to stop talking, and even then, Frank thought they would talk through the glue just to be social. It was obvious how much the girls loved each other, and even more obvious how much Mikey hated Frank right now.

Ray attempted to keep the peace while everyone ate. Scarlet found more pre-made meals for everyone to have for dinner, realistically they could stay here and survive for months, probably as long as they continued to ration properly. But, with the dog-like creatures and the runners basically surrounding them, Gerard proposed it would probably be safer to continue following the virus like they were already doing.

It was easy to convince the girls they were safer not staying in one place. Food would eventually run out and there was no sign of the government or government bodies giving a single fuck that people are turning into walking corpses. The only sign that the virus was continuing to decimate societies was the lack of radio and television transmissions.

Frank turned in early, after having barely touched his food. Ray offered to wrap his food back up so it wouldn’t go to waste, but Frank only responded with a wave of his hand before disappearing into their make-shift beds.

Wanting to give him space, Ray, Gerard, and Mikey decided to stay up with the girls, well into the night.

But Frank couldn’t find sleep. He stayed awake staring at the wall for what felt like hours. Although it was just a muffle, he could hear everyone else yelling excitedly. Frank just couldn’t shake the events of the day as easily as the rest of them could.

He sat up in the dark, there was some light streaming in from outside the door from another room nearby, allowing Frank to see clearly. Forcing himself forward, he searched for the duffle bag he was storing his pre-roll stash in. Snatching them out of his bag, he made his way out front to the truck again.

He forced himself to not even hesitate on his walk out as he heard the shouting of everyone having fun in the rec room. The smashing of pool balls then a yell of agony followed by laughter. Frank felt his chest tighten but the cool air of the late night untangled it and the fun from inside was forgotten.

Frank situated himself on the edge of the truck bed again to light up alone, again.

You started alone last time too… Frank chuckled out his first hit, reminiscing on his time spent in the truck bed getting high with Gerard last time. Taking another deep hit and leaning back on his hands, Frank allowed himself to relax.

The night was mostly silent, there was an ominous banging against glass in the distance, and the air just smelled… wrong. The corpses around them rotting on the pavement. The sun during the day basically baking the decomposing corpses into the boiling gravel. The smell of spoiled, overcooked pork burned into his nose with a disgustingly strange twist of burnt rubber.

Frank attempted to huff the tangy weed smell given off by his joint to stay calm. He could hardly control himself as his mind wandered back to when Gerard almost kissed him, but instead he blew his smoke into Frank’s mouth.

He dwelled for a while on the heat of Gerard’s breath against his mouth. The hint of cigarettes that never quite stuck as strongly as Frank was used to.

He felt his face get hot as he thought about how nice it would’ve been to lean into Gerard. Wondering what Gerard would’ve done in return. It would be a lie if Frank said he never noticed Gerard checking him out or leaning more towards him when they’re standing together.

Frank imagined the way he would definitely taste like cigarettes, but maybe there were other addictions he would be able to decipher from how his tongue tasted. His eyes slowly closing as his head lobbed back.

Frank’s jeans had been gradually getting tighter as his imagination went on, his face felt as hot as it does after a couple of stiff drinks. Frank was unconsciously hitting the joint while his imagination warmed him up.

At some point while he was distracted, the joint stayed between his lips and his now free hand was rubbing himself outside his jeans.

“Hey- “The slightly slurred words from Gerard scared the shit out of Frank, he jumped away in defense as Gerard slinked around the bed of the truck to push his body against Franks. He wasn’t sure how much Gerard had seen but the hint of cigarette smoke that stuck to him meant he was watching for a little bit.

Frank hesitated, breathing hard, “Are you sure you want this...?” Gerard’s eyes were heavy, and he stumbled a little while staring deeply into Frank’s eyes. He nodded slowly, blinking slower. Frank inhaled the joint until it hurt, feeling his dick grow even harder.

But when he pulled the joint away, leaning slightly closer to Gerard, Gerard instead wrapped his mouth around the joint and took a hit too. He pulled away from Frank, taking the joint with him, leaving freezing air in his wake.

 Gerard sobered up, or he was acting drunker than he was, either way Frank was still hard from just being so close to him. The smell of a strong whiskey was intertwined with the sweetness from the tobacco.

Gerard pulled the joint away, blowing his smoke directed towards Frank, but the wind stole it and yanked it away from them both.

He took another hit, being more casual about the exhalation before handing it back to Frank. Gerard made Frank feel small from the beginning, as much as Frank wished to see Gerard standing over him again like the day in the pharmacy, maybe even with a gun again if he’s into that, it made Gerard a little more intimidating than he normally was.

Gerard standing in front of Frank now, Frank didn’t feel intimidated, but he was staying more aroused than he wished he was.

Gerard held the joint out and Frank took it back, unconsciously taking a deep inhale. Gerard broke the tension that Frank couldn’t tell whether Gerard also felt or not, “Couldn’t sleep?”

Frank just shook his head. “Smoke break?” He coughed out, making Gerard chuckle.

“Can you still smell it on me?” Gerard sniffed the hoodie he had thrown on before coming out here and only shrugged. The cigarette smell Frank was intoxicated by was unrecognizable to Gerard’s nose.

There was another long, awkward silence between the two as they huffed and passed the joint. It quickly burned out as they stared at each other. Frank watched as Gerard took the last hit and stamped out the butt.

“Would you like to join us?” Gerard gestured back to the building. Gerard returned both of his fists to the pockets in his hoodie, rocking a little on the heels of his feet.

Frank shook his head again, “I don’t want to ruin the party by pissing anyone off.” Gerard rolled his eyes.

“Just ignore Mikey, we all had a long day. You should come have a drink.”

“I probably shouldn’t.”

“Why?”

Frank shrugged, “I can’t trust myself when I drink.” Frank was unable to meet Gerard’s eyes, he had averted them to stare at some rock that sat in the truck bed with him.

Instead of responding, Gerard closed the gap between them again. Gerard’s hands had slipped out of his pockets at some point and planted them on either side of Frank’s hips.

A harsh, red, warm heat crept up Frank’s neck, slowly heating up the skin on his face.

“Can you trust me when I’ve being drinking?” Frank was too flustered to make out exactly what Gerard was asking; he could feel his face burning hot as they stared at each other. Frank stumbled and stuttered over a few sounds before Gerard moved one hand from beside his hip to being on his knee.

Frank’s eyes went to Gerard’s hand while Gerard continued to stare at him, smirking a little at how cute he thought Frank was while he was so flustered. He slowly brought his hand up a little higher, Gerard could obviously see how hard Frank was getting from just his touch.

Frank was still staring down at Gerard’s hand as he slowly crept up his thigh, making Frank’s breathing hitch and speed up. Gerard wouldn’t take his eyes off Frank’s face, leaving only a couple of inches between them. Even in the dark away from the building, he could make out Frank’s red cheeks.

Gerard continued his hand up his thigh, to his dick. With the lightest touch he held his palm over his already throbbing cock. Frank exhaled quickly. A silent beg occurred when Frank raised his eyes to meet Gerard’s, his eyes now red and half lidded from the weed. Frank felt relaxed and uptight all together, but Gerard squeezing his cock helped to massage those feelings away.

Gerard squeezed again, making another quick, but soft, exhale fall out of Frank’s lips. Gerard became more entertained every time Frank made a noise. Gerard’s hand was gone faster than it arrived, but it soon returned as Gerard fumbled a little with Frank’s jeans, tearing them open with more hunger than he wanted to let off.

The cold air grew warm on Frank’s dick as Gerard reached into his boxers. Gerard’s hands weren’t soft, but the immediate friction from the calloses made Frank’s head fall back and a low, long moan poured out.

Gerard was gentle at first, seemingly aware of how dry this hand-job already was. When he saw how much Frank was enjoying it, though, he pulled away too quickly for Frank’s comfort. He spit into his palm before dipping into Frank’s boxers again.

Frank moaned quietly as he forced his head back down to meet Gerard’s half-lidded eyes. He couldn’t hold his mouth shut as he panted lightly as Gerard stopped tugging on him and started to lightly rub his thumb against the tip of dick.

Gerard was great at teasing the tip, he stopped quickly to push and pull his hand up and down again, pulsating pressure randomly but gripping hard whenever he returned to the base of the head.

The rising heat flustered Frank, Gerard was inching closer, and Frank could only distinguish his distance based on how much of his lips was hot from Gerard’s breath.

“Is this okay…?” Gerard asking for consent. Fuck. Frank’s breath hitched and he leaned in without responding. But Gerard’s reaction made Frank think he was expecting them to kiss. Gerard pumped a little faster, smiling against Frank’s heavy breathing.

One of Frank’s hands was gripping Gerard’s hair while his other was digging deep crescent moons into the arm that was invading his pants. But the pain didn’t stop Gerard, if anything it encouraged him to go faster as Frank started breathing heavier and faster. Bucking into Gerard’s hand a little, causing him to deviously grin.

Gerard enjoyed the feeling of Frank underneath him; he enjoyed the feeling he was overcome with when he protected him in the gas station a few days ago, but now…? Gerard forced his tongue between Frank’s panting lips. Gerard became conscious of his movements on Franks dick and changed it to be faster, circling the tip of his head every time he pumped up. Creating an up and around rhythm; Up and around, down. Up and around, down.

Frank’s tongue fought Gerard weakly as he yearned to stay as close to him as possible. Gerard pulled his mouth away, dragging out a long line of saliva attaching them. Frank followed the rope of spit to Gerard as he pulled away. Feeling so much colder now, Gerard stared down at him, most of his face darkened by the shadows of the night, but the lust couldn’t be hidden. The piercing look shot through Frank’s chest, making Frank desperate for more.

Frank didn’t fully register Gerard’s evil smirk until he was about to reach his peak, hips bucking slightly in rhythm with Gerard’s pumping. Then, he stopped. Suddenly gripping right under the tip of his dick. And slowly pulled his hand away.

A guttural groan escaped the depths of Frank’s body, a sound he’d never heard before, but he’d also never been denied an orgasm before. He’d been with men before, and women, but no one focused so much on him like this.

The pain from the buildup made his balls tighten and cock twitch. Frank’s mouth hung open just enough for Gerard to shove his sweaty middle fingers into his mouth and pulling their faces close again, Gerard’s breath caressing Frank’s cheek as he spoke, “Now you smell like cigarettes, too…” Gerard rubbing his nose lightly over Frank’s cheek as he spoke, going down his neck.

Frank panted again weakly, his head rolling back again while Gerard lightly skimmed his neck with his lips. Parting them with an inhale, Gerard swiped Frank’s neck with his tongue before biting down hard on a sweet spot.

Frank’s dick throbbed, his teeth impaling Gerard’s fingers as Gerard gripped his jaw tighter, wrapping his other arm around Frank’s body to hold him up as he pulled him closer. Frank gave in, using his tongue to trace between Gerard’s fingers.

A low chuckle dropped from Gerard’s mouth, and he pulled away from Frank. The cold air of the night blowing away any warmth Gerard added to their moment.

“Thanks for sharing your joint again. I should get back.” The smirk never left his face, Frank sat in an awkward flustered mess on the truck bed, still panting slightly with embarrassment, pants undone and hair disheveled, as Gerard turned and walked back to the building.

Gerard’s stride was nonchalant, Frank’s dick twitched slower, but the motion still forced a jolt to shoot through him. Frank couldn’t take his eyes off Gerard; both of his hands back in his pockets, he walked away as if he didn’t just make Frank feel the most deprived he ever has in his life.

Frank’s hand unconsciously reconnected with his dick, attempting to mimic a fraction of how Gerard made him feel, but failing miserably. He became hyper aware of the way his own skin felt against his own callused hands and missed the feeling of Gerard grabbing hold of him.

The lack of warmth killed the mood the most. Frank felt like he couldn’t maneuver around himself within his pants after Gerard did it so effortlessly. He still felt a phantom version of Gerard’s smooth up and around, down rhythm.

But his hands were unable to copy the smooth, yet careless motion of Gerard’s hands on his cock. His dick throbbed again, not for his own hands but for Gerard’s.

His cock was not going to soften, but the feel of his own skin attempting to finish what Gerard started made himself cringe. He gave up and attempted to stuff his dick back into his pants behind the tight zipper, dealing with more of a fight than he had the energy for.

Ignoring the button, he quietly made his way back to their beds. He was too pent up to deal with the shit from Mikey and couldn’t take his mind off how far he could get with Gerard if he got more time alone with him.

As Frank walked back through the lobby, ignoring the excitable sounds radiating from the rec room that were louder than earlier, he quickened his pace back to their beds. He forced his way through the door, practically throwing himself onto the bed and immediately his hands were back at his zipper.

His pants were off within seconds, he boxers quickly being pushed to his knees without a second thought. He thought about taking off his shirt but the lingering smell of whiskey and tobacco from Gerard was stuck to it in a way that made the next throb of his cock become painful.

A bead of precum expelled from the tip of his dick as he grabbed himself hard, his brain was so fuzzy he kicked away his blanket as he began to jerk himself off. Huffing the smell that so barely lingered on him still, Frank felt desperate as he gripped himself harder for every deep inhale of Gerard’s smell that stuck to him.

A quick breath escaped him, unintentionally, as he teased his head a little to help edge the orgasm that already couldn’t match what he just experienced outside. Frank rolled his eyes at himself as he indulged himself in the feeling he was denying so much earlier.

Frank fantasized about Gerard pushing him to his back forcefully while he continued his smoothly intoxicating rhythm from before.

Up and around, down.

He imagined how slickly wet his body would get with Gerard pushed so close, breathing heavily down his neck. Frank was reminded by how hard Gerard bit down on his neck, keeping that smooth pace while pumping his dick from before, but wanting to feel more of Gerard’s teeth on his neck.

Up and around, down.

Frank felt himself grow closer and closer to his peak, the denial from before making him bite his tongue with agony as he struggled to reach it. He attempted to imagine the different positions Gerard could jerk him off in, but his throbbing cock was never satisfied by the ideas. Until Frank switched ideas.

He switched his ideas from being topped by Gerard to pleasing him, the throbbing stopped as Frank started to get closer and closer to his end.

Up and around, down.

He imagined going down on Gerard, pulling out his dick and taking as much of it into his own mouth, but the lack of knowledge about how big Gerard was messed with the idea slightly. Frank wasn’t bothered by it, but it tried his best not to overthink the size… or girth… or how veiny it was.

Frank was so unaware of his surroundings, the loud slapping of the side of his hand slapping against his pelvis began to sound like someone sloppily giving head without the same amount of pleasure. Frank abruptly stopped as he heard a loud snore cut through the air.

Frank froze solid. Hard dick still being gripped as he paused to find the source, Frank turned to his right and saw the empty bed that Ray occupied the night before. His head whipped around to the left, in the bed on his other side he saw Gerard on his front, topless with his mouth hanging open. It made Frank laugh to see his dominating friend in such a vulnerable position, then he realized his dick was still in his hand…

Up and around, down.

A quick breath jumped out of him again as he stared at Gerard’s sleeping face, his mouth hanging open allowed Frank to imagine himself in charge. He pictured how thoughtful Gerard would be when it came to pleasing him. Frank always wished to be in charge, but he typically became weak when the situation presented itself.

At one point, as Frank indulged in the lust radiating from his dick, his eyes wondered and landed on the pile of Gerard’s clothes. Gerard typically wore clothes to bed, at least in Frank’s experience over the last few days. Except tonight, his clothes were in a pile at the end of his bed, bright red and black plaid boxers sitting eagerly on top.

Frank’s eyes shot back up to Gerard’s face; mouth squished wide open against his pillow, then back down his pile of clothes. After the teasing Gerard did to Frank tonight, he thought Gerard deserved something similar.

With one more look at Gerard’s face, Frank pushed himself out of bed and made way towards Gerard’s boxers. Frank never let his own dick go, gripping it hard as he moved swiftly to the end of their beds just to wrap the soft fabric of Gerard’s boxers around his desperation. The friction of dry cotton became extremely apparent at that moment.

But Frank couldn’t care, all he wanted was to indulge in Gerard. He started slow, allowing his entire dick to get a feel of the fabric from the boxers before Frank figured out what way was best to rub himself with.

Frank thrusted multiple times into Gerard’s boxers before realizing the smell of Gerard in his own shirt had been huffed out. Without a second thought, Frank stole Gerard’s shirt from the same pile and nearly suffocated himself with the scent that teased him from his own shirt.

Animalistically, Frank ripped off his own shirt of soft fabric and yanked Gerard’s worn, rough shirt over his head. It was slightly larger on him; without a second thought he pointed his dick up and used the t-shirt as a catch as he huffed deeply.

Before he was able to finish, a soft but noticeable thud from the hallway outside the door startled Frank, but not enough to make him stop. He hesitated and listened intently. When Gerard’s drunken snore ripped through the air again, Frank jerked himself off harder and faster.

Gerard’s snores were ugly, but the fact that he was so vulnerable now knowing Frank would come back to their room right away made Frank wonder if he came straight here on purpose or if Gerard was too drunk to know what was going on.

Up and around… squeeze, and down.

He unblinkingly watched Gerard’s sleeping face. The feeling of his teeth leaving a phantom of need on Frank’s neck. He returned his mind to that moment, pretending the bite lasted longer than a couple of seconds. Gerard’s teeth sinking deeper and deeper until he drew blood. Like a vampire, Gerard lapped it up in Frank’s imagination.

Up and around, squeeze… and down.

Frank inhaled deeply again, being reminded of Gerard’s smell. Frank’s lack of alcohol, but strong addiction to it, made his mouth water. Mostly for the alcohol, he did want some, but he wanted Gerard. Adding his favorite smell on top of it all just made him want Gerard to pin him down.

Up and around, squeeze, and down. Up and around, squeeze, and down.

Finally, his eyes. Gerard’s devious yet playful facial expressions always reached his eyes when talking to Frank. The way he looked at Frank both times in the truck bed; Gerard knowing he had full control in making Frank so weak. He thought of the time in the gas station when Gerard peered at him over his shoulder, he was so sure of himself – It made Frank feel safe.

Up and down. Up and around, squeeze, and down. Up and down. Up and around, squeeze, and down.

The final thought Frank had before his mind became numb was the way he felt the day Gerard and him first met, Gerard’s shotgun barrel inches from his face. Frank could smell the metal, and strangely also cigarettes but he assumed that was from huffing Gerard’s shirt. Frank felt tiny remembering it, and he loved it.

And he broke. Rushing over the edge, he exploded up his stomach and chest, leaving multiple traces of sticky whiteness inside the shirt as well. Gerard hadn’t moved since Frank started; Frank literally didn’t stop staring at him the entire time he masturbated.

As he slowed his pumping, he eventually grew soft again in his hand, still watching Gerard. His breathing slowed as he wiped his hand, and dick, and chest… and stomach, off on the inside of the shirt as well. Yanking it off, he tossed it with Gerard’s dirty clothes, the inside remaining on the inside, so no one finds the surprise he made specifically for Gerard.

Falling back, Frank made himself comfortable again within his own sheets, although he wished he had the balls to curl up next to Gerard instead.

He pushed the thoughts away, not wanting to tempt himself more. But, as Frank was falling asleep, he realized he was the most comfortable doing so while watching Gerard sleep.

[staticl0ve]

Dollhouse - Chap 4 - Connor x Fem!Reader

Pairings: Connor/Female Reader Rating: Explicit/NSFW 18+ Story (AO3): [ Read on AO3 ] Chapters 5/5 (Tumblr): [ Chap 1 ] [ Chap 2 ] [ Chap 3 * ] [ Chap 4 * ] [ Chap 5 ] Words: 3.7k Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, PnV, mild breeding kink, so mild Summary: Elijah’s in need of a house sitter and what better than asking his step sibling to water the plants and run a few tests. After all, how hard could pressing a few buttons on a tablet be? Alternative AU.

Chap 4 - Beauty and the Machine*

Tonight was a night for celebration, a party to toast the man of the year: Elijah Kamski and his company’s fifth anniversary. Heels clacked over marble flooring as guests of a gala passed through white Grecian pillars. Above the crowds was a domed ceiling with painted scenes and gold moulding, framing an equally impressive sparkling chandelier. Mouthwatering appetizers wafted by in the arms of waitstaff dressed in black and white formal. People clamored around tiny tables covered in delicate, glittery cloth. A string quartet played a whimsical classical song as champagne flutes clinked.

“Cheers!” the party goers all cried out in unison.

You joined them silently, raising your glass to the air and then to your lips. The champagne was a good vintage, the sharp tang fizzing across your tongue. Hidden away from the crowds, you were happily situated on a balcony above the noise. A railing supported most of your weight while you nursed your drink, the best part of tonight. Your beaded gown felt tight, too revealing in places and your heels taller than you’d liked.

You wanted to go home.

Too much of the evening was spent catering to the egos of guests who were enchanted by your presence. All of the more than eager to use you as stepping stone to Elijah.

The attention was endless.

Some tore you apart with their eyes, scrutinizing every inch of your appearance, only to go soft when they realized the woman in Elijah’s arms was his sister. Their smiles were polite, the light never quite reaching their eyes.

“I didn’t know Kamski had a sister!”

“Stepsister,” you corrected them.

It was one guest after the other, some more familiar than they should be. You caught the eye of a pair of older millionaires seeking to expand their family empire.

“Oh, you pretty little thing, you know we’ve got a son…”

Sisyphus wouldn’t survive an evening in your shoes.

“Hey, so hear me out. Me and my buddy have this app…”

“Excuse me, I need to go powder my nose,” you interrupted.

Did anyone still call it that in this decade?

The gentleman you were speaking to blinked and politely dipped his head. “Of course…!”

It was a wonder you managed to sneak up the grand staircase and duck behind a curtain to your hiding spot, too tired and drunk to humor anyone else. The curtain behind you rustled and your nose caught the scent of Elijah’s favorite cologne long before he spoke. He always had an uncanny ability to locate you no matter where you ran off to.

“Are you enjoying the party?” he asked.

“S’fine,” you shrugged.

He leaned over the railing, a set of icy blue eyes scanning the lively party below. Someone had the idea to start a conga line, their laughter and drunken slurring of the words “conga, conga, conga” drowning out the delicate string instruments.

“They won’t bite,” he said while stealing your champagne flute away.

“Hey—!”

He fixed a playful look at you, adding a small shake of his head. You could hear the inaudible “tut-tut.”

“Go,” he coaxed. “Have some fun, try the conga line. Live a little.”

“I did,” you stubbornly resisted. “I got bored when one guy started talking about his fleet of yachts.”

You tried to snatch your glass back but Elijah was quick, rotating his wrist to catch it in his other arm.

“Just let me know when you want to go home,” you huffed.

He hummed and you followed his gaze to a pair of models down below. One waved and the other winked.

“Don’t wait for me. There’s a car outside whenever you’re ready to go,” he said.

As quickly as he appeared, he vanished behind the curtains, the gentle swishing the only evidence that he even came to see you.

Oh.

He took your champagne, too.

Reluctantly, you descended the ornate staircase and dodged dancing guests to the find the shortest path to a waitstaff serving alcohol. You tripped on a wet spot, or someone’s dress, either way, the world was suddenly spinning faster than you could keep up with it.

A hand grasped your wrist, tugging you gracefully into a firm chest. A navy suited arm braced your shoulders and you followed the pressed collar of his suit past his white linen shirt and black tie to a…freckled face.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

Hello, Prince Charming.

“Yes…” You think you said it or mouthed it. The floor and ceiling tilted and bent in your vision as you scanned the decorative paintings…the gold trim…the chandelier. You could see yourself lost in the sea of swirling dancers as if you were still standing at the balcony. He spoke again and your focus warped back to his shirt and tie.

“Do you dance?” he inquired with a smile.

You scoffed, suddenly more sober than you were earlier.

“Actually, n—”

It was a mistake to look up, finding yourself lost in a pair of honey brown eyes. There was no malice behind them, just curiosity and a glint of amusement.

“…Ngh—yeah. Sure. Why not?” you answered.

A light tune, Rêverie by Claude Debussy, began. He took a cue from the changing music and led you across the dance floor. One of his hands slipped behind your back while the other held your arm out to guide you in a series of turns. Your hips were attached by a pair of magnets, flowing left, right, forwards, and backwards. His cologne was present and not overwhelming, a light masculine scent with a sharp metallic tinge. A man made of metal or a fake tie clip?

You spun with him, the pace of the song picking up fast enough that you could feel a breeze tickle your neck. When you took a step back, he followed, pushing his leg flush to your hips. There wasn’t a moment where you couldn’t feel him somewhere on your skin, especially when his palm on began inching down from your shoulders. Strong, firm fingers pressed into your skin, mapping out one bump to the next along your spine.

“That’s funny,” he said while dipping you.

You gasped at the unexpected loss of your center of gravity, gripping his arms for balance. He held you like you weighed nothing and brushed his nose over yours, his exhale heating your lips as he laughed.

“W-What’s so funny?” you stammered.

“Have you seen the tree they’ve brought in?”

His head shifted and you turned to find a large cherry tree had made a home in the center of the room. Guests stepped in perfect time to the music, forming a swirling formation right below the falling foliage.

“How did that get here?“ you gasped.

He smiled, all sunshine and dripping with honey. “You should look more closely at it when you have a chance.”

Your face twisted in confusion. This man was crazy and yet…you glanced back at the tree and it looked closer or bigger than than it was before. Dancers parted, revealing a sizable burl in the otherwise perfect bark. The corners of his mouth dipped as warm fingers caressed your cheek.

“When you dream…it’s not always this pleasant, is it?” he asked.

You breathed out his name, even though he had not given it yet.

“No harm will come to you as long as I am here,” he promised while bringing your hand up to his lips for a kiss. “Sleep.”

-

What were dreams if not a mosaic of memories and the subconscious working together to create mind bending, nonlinear narratives? On nights when you could not rest, were the sheep you counted covered in wool and prancing over your pillow? Or were they powered by electricity, spinning around like figurines in a carousel?

When you woke, it was one of those coming back into your body experiences where you could only feel one limb at a time. First, it was the arm trapped beneath your pillow, then the other which was tangled in someone else’s limbs. Connor’s hand loosely gripped yours against your chest, the synthetic skin warmer than usual and faintly buzzing. A firm chest covered your back, his weight a welcome comfort.

Through android instinct or sheer luck, he sensed something amiss, choosing to greet you by laying kisses down the column of your neck. A leg pressed between yours, the android tangling himself around you like a blanket. He let go of your hand to wrap an arm around your middle as his other threaded into your hair.

“Bad dream?” he asked.

Through the thick and groggy haze of waking up, you noticed it instantly, a change in the endlessly evolving machine. Connor did not seem to tire, always sounding alert and refreshed no matter the circumstance. Today was different, his voice was lower, rough and scratchy like his vocals cords were warming up.

You brought the back of your hand to rub your eyes. “No, at least…I don’t think so. I tend to forget my dreams when I wake up.”

Rolling away from the sunny side of the bed, you snuggled yourself back into his embrace. Your palm pressed flat on his chest. A light vibration from his hardware rumbled like a cat’s purr. Thoughtlessly, you leaned in to peck soft kisses down the notch between his collarbones and to the center of his chest where the buzzing was it’s strongest. His breath hitched when you flicked your tongue in a swirl over the skin. It was nice seeing a machine stutter from such a small act. Everything you did to Connor seemed to bring him some form of easy pleasure. Regardless of his purpose, it still delighted you to know you could provide something in return.

“I think it was a nice dream,” you concluded and rose back up to kiss his lips.

“I’m glad to hear that,” he replied while nuzzling his face to yours. One part of his anatomy was eager enter the conversation, prodding at your stomach in a not so subtle reminder of its existence. You made a noise caught between a laugh and a gasp, your brain still shaking off the fog of dreamland.

He sprung on you regardless, covering your body with his. Your back sunk into the mattress, hair twisting beneath your head. The kiss was hot, wet and sloppy, his lips claiming yours with a thrilling desperation. Your mouths were a stage, your tongues wrestling to and fro. You cheated, nipping his tongue gently, a victory short lived when he pulled away in surprise. The softness was gone, honed by a sharp, never ending hunger brimming over the pupils of his eyes.

“May I have you?” he pleaded in a tone that implied he’d been patiently waiting all night. As if you needed more convincing, his fingers whispered between your thighs, tracing faint lines up your skin to the bundle of nerves below.

Your legs were falling apart before you could get the words out.

“Yes…yes, Connor.”

The bedsheets tugged upwards with him as he rose up to slot his hips between your legs. His knees spread out, pressing against the meat of your thighs, pushing them further apart. You couldn’t hold back a gasp when he bucked his hips, the cold tip of his wet length gliding over your warm folds. Your moan was crushed between his mouth as he ground into you with whimpers of his own.

“S-so…good,” he slurred, already drunk on your warmth.

It was agonizing when he grazed your entrance, only to proceed to slip up past it, the blunt head of his cock teasing your swollen bud repeatedly. He continued moving in slow seesawing motions, the friction pulling a tight knot in your abdomen. A bow would snap if it held the same tension you had in your spine. You were more than ready, on the verge of begging.

Maybe Connor didn’t know that he needed to put it in.

“Connor,” you huffed out, biting your lip to fight a smile. Perhaps, you’d have to show him how the birds and the robot bees worked.

His eyes snapped to meet yours, the brown lost behind the squint of a guilty and self-satisfied smile.

“Preparation is important,” he answered sheepishly, completely ignoring how your hips canted to change the course of his next thrust. How were you expecting to outsmart machine precision? You writhed with a helpless moan.

“You’re so pretty like this,” he whispered, staying completely still above you. “I…I could do this forever.”

“Con…”

The rest of his name was cut off by his lips covering yours as he lined himself up to you, the tip of him nudging gently at your core. He almost entered you when his face pulled away with a gasp. Pink dusted over his cheeks as his hips hovered over yours. Two strong hands cradled your face on the pillow.

“I…I want to see you. When I…when…” he muttered, distracted and overwhelmed already.

You were a little worried actual sex might break him, but if you were being honest with yourself, you were in no better shape. Sweat beaded down your back as you wiggled beneath him to wrap your legs around his narrow waist. Your nails scraped into the back of his neck and while you couldn’t dent or break his skin, he got the message.

Taking the lead, he tilted his hips, easing himself slowly into you. His optics moved in tiny fluttery movements, like a camera tracking a target as he studied your face. It would have been unnerving if it weren’t for the loud, open mouthed moan that erupted from his lips. He was barely in you, the tip of him stretching and holding you open. Even with all of his preparation, it was a slow process. His hips pulled back, coating himself in more of your slick and diving further in a second attempt.

“You’re s-so tight…” he whined as the blue on his head shifted red.

Your hands threaded through his soft hair, kneading until his eyes pinched shut.

“You’re doing so well,” you spoke, pressing a kiss to his pink cheeks as he melted, moaning softly and pushing deeper.

He propped himself up onto his elbows, tilting his head down to watch him disappear inch by inch until your hips fused together. The act alone seemed to have wiped him out as his head fell to your chest.

“I…you…you feel so…s—“ he said through a wall of static, his biocomponents working overtime, clicking and whirring in his chest.

You palmed his cheek, thumb drawing circles on synthetic flesh as bits of it turned white to your touch. “I know…you feel amazing, Connor.”

He was still whining, panting and cycling air while his forehead rested firmly against your sweaty chest. Slowly, he eased out and back in, mouth agape as you let him claim you again and again. Once your calves tightened around his waist, he got a little braver.

One second you were mostly on the mattress and the next, his arms wrapped around your lower back to lift you off the bed. Your knees pressed to your chest and all you could do was place your arms over his shoulders and cling to him. He moved with a calculated intensity, keeping you on the edge with cycles of deep, angled thrusts. You didn’t have to worry about damaging his ears as you cried out loudly from underneath him. He experimented with slower and deeper thrusts, discovering that he could savor the heat of your core, the way you pulsed and molded to him. His eyes fluttered and rolled as he finally found the adjective he’d been struggling find.

“P-perfect,” he gasped. “You feel…perfect.”

He held you open like a man with all the carnal and animalistic intention of breeding a willing female. No matter how human he seemed, Connor never failed to remind you that he didn’t exist on a food chain. Mechanical noises emitted from his voice box, sharp and clear even while his mouth was shut. The flesh tone vanished from his hands, smooth, white plastic digging into your spine. He did not sweat nor did the momentum of his hips falter. He was a machine moving with a purpose.

And you loved it.

“Fuck, Connor!”

You were close and he could sense it. The familiar but still alien sensation of his rubbery padded fingers working it’s way between your legs. A deep, guttural sound ripped out of his mouth—possessive and almost demanding.

“Let me…let me see it. I want to see it,” he breathed harshly.

At some point, his hair had fallen over his eyes, blackened orbs glinting between strands of brown hair with an unwavering, singular focus.

Ah, to be the sole affection, the apple of an android’s eye.

The covers draped over his shoulders like a dark cape, rustling down his back with every harsh thrust. You were overheating, writhing with your eyes shut in a sauna of your own sweat. Connor was having none of it, his voice spoke without interference, clear enough to feel like you could hear it in your head.

“Look at me,” he said slowly and calmly, stretching the three words to convey the depths of his devotion.

You tried, bleary eyed while drawing in short gasps of air. A pressure on your back pushed your chest flush with his. His lower jaw trembled as he silently mouthed words he wasn’t sure he could say.

“I…I want to remember this…in case…I don’t see you again,” he stammered.

With the high functioning part of your mind positively fucked out of the universe, you weren’t sure what prompted you to reply, but you did.

“You w-will….Ah—you will!”

It seemed to mollify him, a sweet smile dimpling his cheeks. He laid a kiss on your lips, his grin still present throughout.

“Then…cum for me. Please.”

You could feel him all around you, a cage of plastic that knew your body better than an old lover. Initially, his presence was as persistent and inconvenient as the falling snow, blanketing you with no end in sight. Long gone was his formality and your doubts about a machine companion. He was an oddity, awkward at times and beguiling when he didn’t mean to be. Connor was the only one of his kind, beckoning…begging, pleading for a companion. From one lonely soul to another, it would be cruel to deny him.

You heard him ask again, a string of pleas from a gasping, blushing face. He had propped himself on an elbow, leaning most of his weight to one side in order to cup the back of your head. Your muscles knotted around him and you think that might be what would break him as his LED bled red once again.

“Yes, let me—” he groaned, driving his hips in more wildly. “Let me feel it.”

With a shudder, your peak came and lingered in a plateau of weightlessness until Connor nuzzled his hips to yours and with a nip at your shoulder, he followed suit. He was an incoherent whimpering mess, hot exhaust burning onto your skin as he twitched and throbbed. There was a horrid mess between your thighs as the android’s hips never really stilled, too busy watching in awe as his release dripped out and plugged back in with a forward thrust.

“I’m sorry,” he chuckled, already recovered before you were. You moaned softly, still wound up from earlier. A proud smirk tilted up his lips. “I may have been a little excited. You must be drenched.”

“I wonder who’s fault that is,” you replied dryly with a grin of your own.

You brought your hands to tuck a curl that dangled over his eyes. His brows dipped and a small pinch pushed them together as his smile faded, the gentle intimacy replaced with a bittersweet energy. The blankets had slipped off and the cool air blew over your damp skin. He sat up so your legs could collapse onto the bed and came back to press his chest against yours. A weak moan left your lips as he slid back into you with little resistance, keeping still for the moment. Surprisingly, nothing ached, except for the little strings tugging at your heart.

“Just…one more,” he asked.

Your palm pushed at his chest and his head only tilted at you in confusion. 

“Lie back,” you coaxed.

He wrapped his arms around you and rolled over, somehow managing to not slip out of you. You took your time, slowly grinding your hips down as he shuddered and moaned, letting you use him for your end. He seemed blissed out, head buried in a soft pillow, eyes and mouth half opened. The new angle was somehow deeper and hitting a new sweet spot as you rocked against him.

Without breaking eye contact, you placed a hand beside his head, holding most of your weight on it and with your other hand, stroked his cock as it left your core. You hovered over him, pulling him out to the tip while loosely twisting your wrist, knowing full well he could grip your hips and change the pace. Instead, his hands roamed up your sides, gently kneading your breasts. He rolled and pinched a nipple, smirking slightly when you whimpered and clenched around him. As crowded as it was down there, he managed to wrestle his hand through to stroke your clit.

There was a mischievous glint in his eyes like he knew something you didn’t.

“C-Connor! That’s not f-fair!” you cried out as his fingers buzzed. Your legs wobbled, collapsing back onto him until he was buried to the hilt. His other arm came to stroke your back, or hold you in place, either way, he wasn’t moving from beneath you. His fingers wouldn’t let up, circling your nerves as the intensity of the vibrations grew.

“Oh—f-fuck!” you cried out, fisting the sheets until your knuckles went white.

What you didn’t realize was that his delicate sensors could be tuned to different sensitivity levels, and with your next cry, as another climax washed over you, he could finish from that alone. He looked marginally apologetic when you recovered.

“Was that satisfactory?” he asked sweetly. 

Your nails bit into his thighs and your eyes rolled into another dimension. He probably didn’t mean to sound so cheeky.

“Yes, it was,” you replied. You gently stroked up his legs, thumb catching on all the divots in his body—the dip of his hip bones and the valleys between sculpted muscle. Your head came down to rest on his chest with the side effect of shifting your hips over his. His cock twitched in interest and you wondered if he was related to a certain rabbit branded battery.

“Please,” Connor urged, already in the act of rolling you over onto your back.

“One more and then we shower,” you laughed.

“One more,” he repeated.

One last tumble in the sheets before the day went on and Connor’s destiny would be out of your hands, left to the unknown.

It felt too soon for goodbyes.

[books-and-catears]

Old Flames and New Faces (Part 6)

Tagging as requested: @greenlit-mess @satans-favorit3 @beelsmeal @candymeowz @wafermelons @tanspostsblog @abyssmal-skies @oriaedvige03 @percythebitchwitch @obeythebutler @mammonie @rosesthornss @mimik248 @mothervictoire @lxlxpt1 @ryokuu

<- Chap 5 || Chap 7 ->

TW: Murder, Violence, Harsh language

"Don't blame me for betraying you. Blame yourself for being stupid enough to fall for it."

How long has it been since you've had this nightmare? Why are you only remembering this now?

Belphie loomed over you with his venomous hands wrapped around your throat. Pushing down roughly till you felt spit spurt out of your mouth.

You didn't even defend yourself. Your mouth opened in a silent scream, but no sound came out. Noone to call. Noone to listen. Only six more pairs of eyes watching your last moments.

This is not how you wanted to die is it? You didn't ask for any of it? You were only trying to help. You didn't deserve it. You knew that, didn't you?

Your eyes darted around looking for someone, anyone to give you one final moment of peace. But there were none.

Your life lead upto this. To die in the land of demons, unloved, alone. The friends you made were in vain, the lights, the laughter - all a lie to lure you to the saddest death ever known.

You thought it's over. You thought atleast you'd find peace. To sleep soundly with noone else to hurt you. But they woke you up again.

You open your eyes only to see yourself die and fade away. Again. As if the memory wasn't already seared into your head. And then suddenly you're being pulled into everyone's arms. And being called a name that wasn't yours.

"Lilith...it's you.."

"Lilith! Is this why we've been so drawn to you?"

"Lilith you lived! We're so happy!"

"Lilith...I'm so sorry Lilith..."

"Ah! Stop it...stop it!" You forcefully wake yourself and sit up in bed. The moon was too bright tonight.

You rub your aching eyes and try to lay back down. You look around to see you're safely tucked inside your bed.

It's okay. It was just the nightmare again.

You bunch up the blankets and try to hold it for comfort. You could really use a hug right about now. Simeon wouldn't mind if you woke him but you didn't want to.

"Hey MC." Lily called from the window.

"Ah! Lily...it's you...come in" You gasped and opened up so she could get in.

"You look like you've seen a ghost." She said teasingly, poking your arm. "Wait... you've gone cold. Seriously what's wrong?"

"Nothing just nightmares. Bad memories. Glimpses of them. It's okay I'm okay." You sound like you're trying to reassure yourself more than her.

Then she wordlessly wraps her arms around you, engulfing you in a hug. She was just a little taller than you but she hugged like a younger sister clinging to their older sibling.

She mumbled into your hair. You didn't quite hear her. "I'm sorry what was that?"

"I said you'll sleep better if I hugged you." She smiled and lay down in your bed. "Come on in. You need a cuddle."

"I guess I do." You climb in with her. "Excited for the trip tomorrow?"

She giggled, "Only because you all are coming along." You turned to look at her sharply.

"What? Me? Lily I can't...they don't want to see me, I don't want to see them. Things are shaky right now."

She shook her head. "I'm not going without you. I'll be there, I won't let them be mean to you. Besides you see what a mess most of them are without you."

You remembered the whole drunken incident from two nights ago and sighed. "I'll join you guys later then. It's a long way there and I can't survive a whole journey with them in an enclosed space."

Lily pouted at first but then agreed. After you both had a fallen asleep, a little figure scuttled in the dark.

"Simeon... Simeon.. " Luke urgently called for him to wake up. Simeon took barely a few seconds to register.

"What's wrong Luke? Is MC okay? Did something happen?" He questioned even as he walked upto your room.

On the bed he saw you sleeping peacefully cocooned in someone's arms. Did Solomon decide to sleep with you.

He went closer only to gasp and fall back. It was Lily. Dainty little wings protruding from her back covering you up like a blanket. She was fast asleep just like you.

"I can't believe it... she's alive...after all this time..." Simeon talked in whispers as Luke tried to get him away just in case the strange angel in your bed woke up.

"Who is it? Who is that Simeon?!" Luke asked over and over. "Are they dangerous?"

Simeon narrowed his eyes at him, "Why would you think an angel was dangerous Luke?"

"I heard them talking. She was hugging MC when she suddenly said 'They will pay for how they hurt you.'" Luke questioned. "Did someone hurt MC?"

"That's Lilim." Simeon said in a whisper. "She fought in the war alongside the brothers. She was Lilith's best friend, very protective of her till the end. We thought she died in the war...but I guess not." Simeon answered first.

"And if what you heard is right, Luke, then the brothers are in grave danger and we-"

"Well well well, look who found me out." Lily's voice made them both jump back. She closed the door to your room behind her.

"Hush now. We don't want to wake MC do we?" She said, "Also you forgot to mention the most of important part. I'm the Godmother of Lilith's children. MC is the last of her bloodline and I'm here to save her."

[secondhand-trash]

Gap

A/N:  this is based on my personal experiences😌

Pairing: Okkotsu Yuuta x reader

Word count: 1195

Zenin Maki was visibly delighted when she flipped her card over to show everyone the bright red “K” printed on its corner, while everyone else in the dorm room shifted back.

You gulped down when she opened her eyes and allow her gaze to scan over each person in the little circle you had formed.

Starting from her left, every (and the very few) students of Tokyo Jujutsu Tech had gathered around under Inumaki and Panda’s request for some old fashion bonding activities. You had a feeling they had planned for this to happen the moment Inumaki pulled out a deck of poker from behind his back, pointing excitedly at the king he had picked out specifically.

“Hm...” Maki rolled her neck, tapping the card against her palm as she closed her eyes. She had a lot of... petty grudges she would like to get back at people for. To say that she was not at her best luck today would be an understatement, she was almost starting to wonder if the rest of her friends had just decided to collectively cheat against her with how many times she had been blindly picked to do whatever the king of that round commanded. 

After a lot of running circles, pocky game, and very cheesy skits that made her want to puke, she had been waiting for this moment to get her revenge.

Her smirk only grew wider and wider as she stopped at each person and you instinctively hid your card under your palm when she looked at you.

“What? It’s not like I’ll know what number you got,” she snorted, her ponytail swinging behind her as she tilted her head to her side with a sly smile.

Maki threw her card down on the floor. “3,” she gave it a tap with her index finger, her hand freezing in place as she thought of another number on top of her head, “kabedons number 5 for 30 seconds.”

She gave an ugly laugh when you frustratedly covered your face and groaned, “Maki san...”

“I really have no clue, alright?” she was still laughing and gloated, “who is 3?”

The laughter only grew when a white-sleeved arm raised up weakly, with some whistling threw in from his friends. Okkotsu’s lips were pursed into a sheepish smile, his hand pushing away his bangs that had grown out while he was away before hiding his flush behind the back of his hand.

“Get up, get up, make it quick,” Maki slapped his hand against the floor repeatedly as you begrudgingly climbed up, “(y/n) stand over there against the wall. Come on, Yuuta, bring out your courage, hurry up!”

The boy let out a whimper as Panda gave his shoulder a firm push, “Go sweep them off their feet.”

“Good luck, Okkotsu senpai!”

“Shake, shake!”

“God,” Okkotsu rubbed his neck nervously as he stood in front of you. His eyes were darting around as his face got redder and redder, an awkward smile hanging on both of your faces to hide the clear embarrassment you feeling, “I’ve never done anything like this before...”

You toyed with the hem of your sleeve as you shifted your weight between your feet, “It’s fine, me neither-”

“Are you two done yet?” Maki shouted, her body leaning out of the circle to look at you two in entertainment.

He blinked as he looked down at you, rolling his sleeves up tentatively, “Can I...?”

“Oh,” you blurted out, “yeah. Yeah, of course-”

!!

Your heart jumped together with the loud bang. The beating in your chest drowning out the noises from your speculators and there was no thought in your head other than that Okkotsu Yuuta was so freaking close to you right now. His forearm had slammed down above your head, trapping you between the wall and his chest. Your face was burning up as your eyes saw nothing but white, not knowing where to station your gaze except staring down at your feet.

Shivers ran down your arm when you felt a light brush of his knuckle under your jaw.

“Look at me,” he muttered, and your mind screamed in confusion at how this was not what you remembered him to sound like. 

It was not until you swallowed the saliva pooling in your mouth and lifted your head in a defeated snap that you noticed the stark contrast of your height. With his arm above your head, he was towering over you. His hair framing his face as he stared right at you. Turquoise eyes were dimmed and dark with his back blocking the light, seemingly endless in depth as he locked you in his gaze. You had to remind yourself to breathe, that you were starting to feel light-headed with his presence all around you. His shoulders were wider than you thought, and the baggy shirt he had on could not hide the firmness of his waist. 

If you did not have the guts to look up, then now you were scared to look away. The bags under his eyes added a sickly beauty to his pale skin, the slight chap of his lips only more prominent with the corners pressing down under the clench of his jaw. Your back stood straighter when you saw the bobbing of his throat from the corner of your eyes and a nerve-wracking self-consciousness rising in your chest.

Oh dear, you did not expect to be this affected.

But he was so fucking hot from this angle.

“30 seconds up!”

You were still holding your breath in when Okkotsu backed away with a heavy exhale, the familiar smile returning to his face as he pressed his palm to where his heart was.

“Wow, that was...” he chuckled, pressing the back of his hand to his neck to feel the heat on his skin as he stumbled back to his seat, “I feel so shy now....”

“You released the wolf in you,” Panda nodded approvingly as he swung a paw onto the boy’s shoulder. Okkotsu tried to whine and squirm away from the inevitable teasing but was held down by Inumaki at his other side who was grinning ear to ear under his collar.

“Senpai, are you ok?” Itadori asked when he saw that you had slowly slid down from the wall and was now crouching there with your face hidden behind your hands.

The genuine question only made your classmates holler even more, and you lifted your hand weakly at him to tell him to give you a second.

You were flaming up feverishly, the heat transferring from your face to the skin of your palm. You could hear the laughing, but you honestly could not find the energy in your brain to care about them when the adrenaline rush from what just happened earlier refused to go away.

You bury your face deeper into your palm, and let out a silent scream.

“Ahhhhh....”

”I think you broke them, Okkotsu senpai,” Fushiguro said after sparing a glance your way.

”Really? Then what should I do?”

Maki sniggered, and leaned over to collect everyone’s card before shuffling them up again, “I love this game so much.”

[theresthesnitch]

Just a little kiss

A/N: I couldn't help myself. Jily and stargazing? Just add a little campfire and a bit of kissing, and I'm sold. Written for @efkgirldetective 's Summer of Jily prompt 5: activity: stargazing + lyric: I've got plenty of affection / I'd be glad to show you some time

Read here on AO3.

Plus, a picture for inspiration.

***

"That one is Cepheus. And do you see that one there? The one looks like a jagged line? That one is Cassiopeia."

They were laying in the tall grass next to the campfire, their feet bookends of the long line they created with their bodies. Lily's head was on James's shoulder, and his head was on her shoulder, and Lily realized that if she turned her head just slightly she could place a kiss on James's cheek. If James turned his head too, then their lips would meet between them. Lily had not yet worked up the courage to turn her head and kiss him, but she was warm with the knowledge that it was a possibility.

Everyone else had gone to bed and were likely already asleep, given the amount of time the two of them had been sitting there alone. Yet neither James nor Lily made any move to get up.

"And that one is Ophiuchus."

James continued pointing at the stars in the sky, outlining constellations indistinctly with his finger. Lily couldn't help but smile as he continued his recitation.

"James," Lily said. "You know that I took astronomy, too?"

"Of course," James said, oblivious to her meaning.

"James," she started again. "You realize I scored better than you in astronomy, yes?"

Lily saw a faint blush spread across James's cheeks and she just nearly kissed him right there. James chewed on his lip for a moment. "Yes?" His confidence was fading, and it came out like more of a question than an answer.

"So, why are you telling me about constellations?"

For a long moment, he didn't answer her. Long enough that she wondered if she would get an answer at all. "Just refreshing your memory," he finally said.

Silent laughter shook her shoulders and jostled his head slightly. She glanced over at him and saw an indignant look on his face, his lip poured out slightly. And then finally she couldn't help it.

She turned her head and kissed him on the cheek.

He'd clearly not been prepared for that possibility. He jumped slightly when her lips touched his cheek. When he glanced over at her she was looking back at the sky chewing slightly on her lower lip. "What was that for?" he asked.

"It's adorable," she replied, "that you thought I needed a refresher in astronomy."

"So you kissed me?"

"Apparently, I did." Lily felt, more than saw, him smile next to her and she looked back up at the stars. "I'm really glad we took this trip."

"Yeah," he said, smile still evident in his voice. "It's a good way to kick off our last year."

"Thank you for forcing everyone to come."

James scoffed. "I did not force everyone."

Lily laughed, her shoulder shaking his head again. "Fine," she said. "Thank you for encouraging everyone to come. Strongly encouraging."

James grumbled a bit. "I guess that's fair."

"I mean it though," she continued. "You have a way of doing that to people."

"Forcing people to do things?" he asked wryly.

"Well," she hedged for a moment, and then laughed at the look on his face. "No I mean, you're good at bringing people together. I'm not sure that anyone else could have gotten all of us out here. All of the Gryffindor 7th years together on a camping trip for one last hurrah."

James was quiet for a moment, and then turned and pressed a kiss into her cheek. His lips were warm, and a bit chapped, but not in a way that was uncomfortable. She felt the slight scratch of his whiskers on her cheek as he turned his head back, and the lingering warmth from where his lips had been.

"What was that for?" she asked quietly.

James' cheek rested against hers this time and she felt him smile a soft, kind smile. "That was thank you," he said. "No one has ever said anything so nice about me."

"Yes, well, you've never done anything nice before."

James roared with laughter as she knew he would, and she found herself smiling widely. "I'm nice."

"Name one time you've been nice."

James thought for a moment. "In fourth year, I carried your books for you."

"No, you didn't." Lily laughed at the memory. "You charmed my books to fly ahead of me up to Gryffindor Tower."

"And?"

"James, they didn't go to my room! I had to go room by room to find them again. It took me an hour and a few bribes to get them all back."

James grimaced. "Okay, maybe not so good in execution."

"It's okay." She turned and placed another kiss on his cheek. James didn't flinch this time, but she saw him close his eyes and felt him smile. "You've grown a lot," she whispered into his cheek before turning her face upward again.

"You think so?"

She hummed agreement. "I know so. I pay attention, you know."

"To me?"

Lily smiled. "Among other things."

James turned his head and pressed another kiss into her cheek, this time lingering just a moment. She closed her eyes and wondered how he would react if she turned and really kissed him.

"Thank you," James said quietly.

"What for?"

"I've been trying to be better, and I'm glad you noticed. So thank you for telling me."

"You're glad I noticed?" James hummed in agreement. "Why me?"

She felt him freeze under her head. "Because you matter to me, Lily."

There it was, like a lightning strike as his words hit her ears. She mattered to him. She knew that, of course, on some level. How could she not? It was no secret that James Potter fancied Lily Evans, as much as she tried to pretend she didn't know. She did, of course. The girl always knows. And part of her really loved knowing that he liked her, always. It had been annoying when they were younger, but over the years, he had grown on her.

So yes, she knew she mattered to him. It was just the first time she wanted to matter to him.

She turned her head again, and kissed his cheek. "You matter to me, too." And she really meant it.

"You're very affectionate tonight." James' voice was warm and a little thick in a way that Lily found really, really wonderful. It sent tingles all over her body.

"I have plenty of affection," she replied. "Maybe I can show you some time."

James laughed again, from deep in his belly in a way that she felt vibrate his chest where her head lay. "That's such a terrible line."

Lily was laughing too. It was hard not to laugh when he was laughing and looking at her like that.

"Well, fine. I can stop if you prefer." She put a hand out to her side and began to push herself up slightly.

"No!" The sudden yell surprised her. He grabbed her hand and linked their fingers. "No, I don't want you to stop." His voice was much quieter now.

"Okay," she said, and settled herself on his shoulder.

"Okay." He turned his head again to press his lips against her cheek, but she was faster. She turned her head so that their lips met in the middle.

He froze under her lips, and for a breath, she wondered if she read it wrong. Then his lips were moving against hers, and they were so soft and so gentle. Then he was moving, flipping onto his stomach so that his head was over hers, and the kisses became more urgent.

He pulled her lower lip between his and lightly nipped at her lip. She let out an involuntary moan, and felt James smile against her lips. She claimed his lower lip between hers, and ran her tongue along it, licking into his mouth and tasting him.

They broke apart, both a little breathless. James was propped up on his elbows above her, and peppered her face with kisses - her chin, her cheeks, her nose - before pressing a chaste kiss to her lips again. He rested his forehead against hers as they both breathed a little heavy.

“See, I told you I have a lot of affection.”

A brief pause, and then James burst out laughing. He rolled over and laid on his back, head once again next to hers, and he reached out to link their hands.

Lily shifted over so she was laying on his shoulder again. “Want to show me more constellations?”

“Can we just skip to the kissing part again?”

Their laughter carried through the night air until it was cut off again with a kiss.

[shibarirobot]

Aizawa fic - CH 5 - Entrapment

 18+ ONLY! SFW (for now)

Shouta Aizawa x Villian!OC/Reader(?)

CH1

CH4

Okay this chapter kinda fucked me up. I got very emo while writing this lmfaoooo, but again sooooooo sorry that I’m so inconsistent, I care about this story and I want it to actually be good before I post ((also I have the shittiest laptop on the face of the planet so I can barely use it)) more like I just dont have the patience to deal with it XD, mais oui! le chapter is done! Please enjoy! x

-

The chair I’m strapped to is stiff and uncomfortable at my back. I haven't been able to move for awhile and it’s driving me fucking insane. My back aches, my thighs are sore, I can literally feel my pelvic bone, not to even mention the cracked rib still throbbing and I’ve started to remember the broken nose I gave myself. It’s hard enough to keep my head on straight, I can’t really seem to focus on the questions I’m being asked, let alone my answers. I’ve been here for hours, maybe days. I have no clue. I have absolutely no fucking clue. This dumbass, Detective Aiko just comes and goes, sometimes followed by a short man with a clipboard and glasses. He just asks a few questions and leaves, I’ve lost track of how many times he’s entered and left as quickly as he comes. This time he comes in dragging another metal chair and flips it around on the other side of the table, sitting on it backwards, like he thinks he’s fucking cool or something. He’s large, I’ll give him that. His thighs swallow up the chair easily and I’m surprised he can actually sit on the thing.

I look at him with my tired eyes. We’ve been at this too long, I’m so fucking tired and I can hardly hold his eye contact. My lips are so unbearably chapped they feel like they might split open at any moment, they might have actually, I can taste iron. I’m parched. My mouth feels like it’s full of cotton. I’m about to crack, I can feel it. “Water.” My voice is tiny at this point, crackly from the dehydration. “I need water.” My eyes start to sag and I press forward slightly, straining against the straps on my torso, skin raw beneath them after so much of my writhing.

Detective Aiko blinks at me from across the table and reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. He easily taps one forward and plucks it from the box between his lips. I can tell it’s a practiced movement, he does it without thinking. His habit has become muscle memory. He shoves the pack into his pocket again and retrieves a zippo lighter. If I was more conscious I probably would have rolled my eyes, if it didn’t feel like they might fall out of my head if I did. Of course he has a zippo, ugh. It’s like he learned how to be a cop from watching cheesy cop movies. He flicks it open and closed in a split second and the cigarette is lit. He takes a deep breath, sucking down the entire thing, inhaling so deeply that his chest puffs and swells almost double. He holds that breath for a long moment, releasing it slowly. I expect the smell of burnt tobacco, but there is none. The smoke pours from his nostrils in thick swirls, but it dissipates quickly, without a single trace that it had once been there.

I can see his eyes go glassy from the nicotine high, his shrouded eyes have barely left me. He stares at me like I’m a caged panther; cunning, dangerous, volatile. All things I might have been if I could possibly think straight. “You’ll get your water after you cooperate.” He shifts in the chair slightly, flicking the used cigarette butt to the side. It falls to the ground unceremoniously and I can only imagine how often he flings those things haphazardly and how many thousands he has personally littered into our environment. I’m instantly seething again. A moment ago, I had no capacity for anything really, and now I’m filled head to toe with rage towards this stupid fucking cop. This man withholding my fucking water, my fucking life source.

The thought that he’s actually killing me passes and I pull at the cuffs around my wrists. “Fucking water.” The chains scrape across the table and I can feel the blood on my mouth, my lips have definitely cracked in multiple spots, blood pooling between my teeth. “I fucking need water!” Now I’m just shaking the chains, trying to make enough noise to get him to give in, annoy him into submission. “Water!” His eyebrow twitches, he seemingly has a very short tolerance for my behavior now, no longer amused by my sass and antics.

He quickly rises from the chair and kicks it to the side, it goes clattering against the wall and loudly falls to the ground, tipped on its side. The sudden jolt silences me and the room is tense with the lack of sound. “Who do you work for?!” He yells at me, full chested. The same question Eraser Head asked me in the alley. Where my allegiances lie. There’s another moment of silence before I bust into intense, manic laughter. They still really think I work for someone?

My throat threatens to give out on me, but I can’t control the laughter. “Me, motherfucker!” I shout back, only not as full, my voice is dying quickly, my laughter soon falling with it, replaced by a hacking cough that I’m pretty sure just shredded the dry skin inside my very dry throat. That doesn’t really seem to satisfy him though. He just grunts and picks the chair back up, setting it upright, but not sitting down in it like before. He just stands there, so tall and trying to be intimidating.

He crosses his arms over his chest and scoffs at me just once. “So we’re gonna keep playing this game, huh?” He pulls out another cigarette and huffs it down just as quickly as the first, barely even savoring the drag. His eyes close and he shrugs. “I guess you don’t want that water.” He quickly strides out of the room, leaving me alone and tortured. I can’t move, my body is giving out, I can’t speak because of my hoarse, abused throat, I can’t do anything at all, but sit here. My mind flashes back to when I felt this way before, tied to a dining chair in front of my drunk birther. My eyes start to water and I am amazed that I even have the moisture left in my body to cry. The parallels are too similar and I can feel myself reverting back, the whimpering that’s beginning in the back of my throat. A couple tears start to fall and I’m slowly slipping into that mindset when I hear the door open again.

I try my best to harden my face, trying to mask the depravity that I had just been wallowing in, refusing to make eye contact with Detective Aiko as he rounds the table again and sits in that chair. He sets something on the table and I’m surprised when I look up, to see Eraser Head sitting in that chair across from me instead. There’s a water bottle on the table and I honestly have nothing to say. I’m overwhelmed by this change of events and the tears come faster now, silently streaming down my face. I feel so vulnerable and this man that I have only prodded and teased is the one here to help me. It’s like the universe is laughing at me, it feels like a trick, but one I’m knowingly and willingly letting myself fall into. I suck in a deep breath, hoping he won’t say anything about my tears. “They haven’t cleaned you up at all, have they?” His voice is low, but he honestly sounds concerned. I lamely shake my head, unable to tell him that I’ve been sitting strapped to this chair since the moment he left. He grunts shortly then stands, slowly grabbing the water bottle and cracking the lid open.

My tears lessen as I watch him, he’s looking at me like I’m a wounded animal and deep down I can’t blame him. All I’ve done since meeting him is lash out and hurt him. In spite of all that he reaches out to me slowly, the cold water bottle in one hand, the other gingerly gripping the side of my neck and tilting my head back. I look at him hesitantly. I’m just supposed to let him pour water into my mouth? That feels too weird, and intimate, and needy, but I can’t really pour the water into my own mouth, so I part my lips for him. He gently presses the rim of the water bottle onto my bottom lip, easing the cold, fresh water onto my sandpaper tongue. His fingertips graze the skin on my neck as the pad of his thumb softly wipes away my tears. It’s so gentle and intimate that I can’t help but cry harder. I’ve never felt such a sincere caress and it’s like my heart is breaking into a million pieces, astounded by the tenderness that I haven’t allowed myself to even realize I was missing. The silent resentment falling away for a moment and letting something new replace it. Adoration? Sympathy? Genuine gratitude?

I take in this new feeling hesitantly as I try to gulp down the water as quickly as he’s pouring it into my mouth. I relish in the feeling of the cool liquid on my tongue and into the back of my throat, soothing the burning I had endured for so long. The tears continue to fall even after the water bottle is empty and I realize his hand is still gently stroking my cheek in an attempt to calm my tears. He tosses the empty water bottle aside and peers down at me. I stare back up at him, my eyes starting to puff up from the tears I had just shed, cloudy with the residual moisture on my lashes. He’s even more beautiful now than ever before, caring for me so tenderly, and I think I understand now. I love him. I must love him. The way I was drawn to him before, it all makes sense. I’ve never felt anything like this before, no one has ever given me even a sliver of a second thought, but here he is. This man I don’t even know caring for a tortured criminal that’s done nothing, but awful things. It must be love. It must be... something at least.

I realize the moment’s been too long and I turn my gaze away, squeezing my eyes shut. I can’t help but feel embarrassed. Here he is helping me, giving me the water I so desperately needed and I can’t even choke out a ‘thank you’. Should I? Would he want me to? His hand falls away and I hear him start to shuffle to the door. Dammit. I’m breathing heavy, trying to catch my breath from the way I gulped down water like a dying horse. “I’m going to get a first aid kit.” I almost don’t hear him, but my eyes snap open. He’s coming back? To help me even more? Eraser Head is… going to tend my wounds… that I got fighting… HIM. This is all so bizarre and my head spins a little, but I can’t help the trace of a grin that tugs on my lips and the slight twinge of heat in my cheek.

I hear that knock on the door again, but before it opens I mumble out a small, drained. “Thank you.” My throat is still destroyed, but it’s enough that I hope he heard me. I guess I’ll never know if he did or even cared because the door opens and closes with no acknowledgment that I had said anything. Once again, I am left by myself, in this too bright room, strapped to a metal chair. As I sit here, it’s hard not to fall back into my miserable thoughts. Self loathing and what if’s come easily. What if that really was a trick? What if he’s never coming back? What if I just imagined the whole thing? What if he’s disgusted by me and just taking pity? I internally cringe at myself. That one is probably closest to the truth. He thinks of me like a charity case, someone who can’t help themselves. He’s a hero after all, that good ole savior complex will always rear it’s big, nasty head at some point. He’s helping me to make himself feel better, not to make me feel better. I sneer at myself. I almost fell into his trap, but no. I’m better than that. I was almost that dumb cunt I used to be, trusting people, needing others help. Fuck no. I promised myself I would never be that person again. I’m better now.

But then the indignation fades and all I’m left with is the reality of the situation. I do need his help. I’m broken and bleeding, strapped to a chair in an interrogation room. I start to cry again. It’s not a heavy cry, just one that makes you realize so much in such a short period of time. I cry as I realize I do need help. I need more help now than I’ve ever needed before. I’ve probably needed help this entire time and refused to see it, refused to ask for it. Asking for help never seemed like an option, it seemed like a burden. Yet, Eraser Head isn’t even offering me help, he’s giving it. Willingly. Of his own accord.

I continue to struggle with my thoughts on the situation far longer than I would deem necessary before I admit to myself it doesn’t matter because he’s simply not coming back. It’s been too long for him to have actually been going to get a first aid kit. He’s gone forever now. Poof. Might as well stop thinking about him. I can’t though. Can’t stop thinking about his perfect face, the way he touched my neck, the tenor of his voice, the scruff on his chin, the scar under his eye, the heat of his body behind mine. It all sends a thrill through me, but more than that, just a deep sense of longing. I yearn for him. I just want him to come back to me, I don’t care if he has the first aid kit he left for or not. I just want him to be present with me because everything just hurts less when he’s here. The open wounds mean nothing when he’s here. He’s the only reason any of my pain has ever been eased. I need him. I love him.

I start to allow fresh tears to fall, but my eyes are already welded shut from the fat tears I had shed earlier, too heavy to open and crusted over with dried tears because I still can’t wipe my eyes. The new ones gently come and allow me to crack open my eyes just slightly. I’m honestly on the brink of exhaustion, but my body has miraculously found a way to push forward. I’m taking a deep breath, trying to re-center myself. Get a grip on reality. Stretch my fingers and toes, get some feeling back in my aching body, crack my neck as best as I can. It’s not much, but it helps. I’m the only one that can do anything for me now. I start trying to survey the room to a closer extent than I had before, but honestly it’s still the same, too bright, all white room. I guess I can see a vent in the top right corner, but it’s too small for me to even think about escaping from. Not to mention, I can’t see a camera, so it must be in the corner behind me, watching, recording my every move. I grumble. There’s also the two way mirror, that I assume has had at least three people on the other side of it at all times. I’m completely under thumb.

I sigh, there’s not much I can do in this situation, and this dumb collar is still canceling my quirk. I’m chained up and defenseless. Fucking great. The door scrapes open again and I startled to see Eraser Head quickly invade the room, that wild look in his eyes again. The tips of his hair are flicking back and forth angrily, but not like it was before when he was erasing my quirk, more like… he’s just worked up. He’s breathing deeply, standing up straight and crossing his arms, a full 180 from his calm, gentle demeanor he had earlier. He’s actually quite intimidating like this and I start to shrink into myself, not knowing why his mood has changed. I didn’t do anything. He looks to the door and reaches out to flick his wrist in a ‘get the fuck over here’ motion. Detective Aiko comes into the room and unlocks my cuffs, releasing my arms from the table. He seems reluctant and I’m insanely confused by this sudden turn of events. My eyes are wide and I look to Eraser Head again, confusion evident on my twisted up face. “I’m taking you to the hospital. The collar will stay on and I will cuff you down when we get there.” He says it all so blankly and I’m even more confused that I was before he answered.

Detective Aiko doesn’t look up, he just grumbles out a gruff, ‘bad fucking idea’ before moving onto the straps at my torso, allowing me to pull away from the chair just a little bit. I struggle to force my muscles to keep myself upright, wanting to slump over and crumple to the floor. He undoes the one at my lap and I barely feel it because my entire bottom half has gone numb at this point. He lowers down further and unlocks the cuffs at my ankles, fully freeing me from the chair. I’m immediately elated to be liberated once again, getting overzealous and springing from the chair. Blood rushes to my head and my numb legs remind me how bad of an idea that is because I tip forward, falling into the metal table, the wind knocked from my lungs. I let out a wheeze and feel strong hands pull me back up onto my feet from my shoulders.

Eraser Head wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me flush to his hip to support my weight. I can feel his hero muscles swell as he pulls me off the table, shifting so we can shuffle towards the door. I’m still dazed and weak, trying to work with his movements instead of against them, but my legs can barely hold myself up and he ends up dragging me along with him more than anything else. My head is right next to his shoulder, tucked tight to his body and I press myself closer, nuzzling my cheek onto his collarbone. He feels so good against me. I’m so woozy, I feel like I’m dreaming. This all could be a mirage, I am dehydrated as hell. But it feels so real and so good that I just submit to it immediately. I press even further, trying to get up to his neck. Trying to be closer. The moment crashes around me in an instant as cuffs fall around my wrists. Damn. It’s Detective Aiko standing behind me, cuffing my wrists together and ruining the moment I was just having with Eraser. I glare up at him and he just ignores me, squeezing the cuffs tighter, too tight. I yelp, but he just looks over to Eraser Head like, ‘Really?’. Eraser grunts and holds his hand out for the key, he still has that wild look in his eye and I realize now that it’s pointed at Detective Aiko. HE’s in the doghouse, not me. Well, I am still arrested, but it doesn’t really feel like it when Eraser Head is personally escorting me to the ER, cuffs or no cuffs. Detective Aiko drops the key into his outstretched hand with an eyeroll.

Eraser Head spins me around, so I’m facing forward. My head is still dizzy, but my legs are starting to get some feeling back and I’m able to stand on my own now, even if I am a bit wobbly. He pulls me close to him again, gripping my bicep with one hand and supporting my weight with a hand on my hip. He’s taller than I remember him being. Glancing over my shoulder, I have to look up at him. His jaw is set, clenched with the anger he’s trying to hold back, silently seething. He’s still eyeing Detective Aiko with a menacing nature, I know his quirk is eye related, but it seems he also has a natural affinity for staring anyways. I watch him tuck the key into his front pocket, then grip my arm again, his hands are so large. I gulp, now realizing my ass is basically pressed up to his hip. He’s still taller than me, it's more like his thigh, but that doesn’t change the fact that my ass is on this man. My mind goes crazy as he holds me there, having some kind of stare down with Aiko. Neither of them has moved, but after a moment the detective shifts back with a grumble. Eraser Head grunts and guides me forward, supporting me as we exit the interrogation room.

Eyes follow us as Eraser Head leads me out of the room and down the hall. The receptionist at the front desk gasps when she sees me walking (semi) free. I can tell they all know who I am. I can tell they’re all scared of me. I don't need my quirk for that. I take advantage of the tense scene before me and grin, lurching forward at the woman sitting at the desk. Eraser Head is still gripping me firmly, so I don’t make it very far before he yanks me back to his body, but I do make it far enough to scare that bitch gawking at me. She screams and drops the phone receiver in her hand, stumbling backwards. I didn’t really expect such a dramatic reaction, did she really think I was gonna rip her head off or something? I’m fucking handcuffed… and doesn’t she fucking work at the police station? She should be used to this by now, why is she so fucking scared? Dramatic bitch.

Eraser Head pushes me forward, obviously still riled up from previous events. I stumble forward a bit, but his grip on me is so firm I couldn’t fall if I wanted to. We continue walking through the waiting lobby, until we reach two large glass doors. Outside the doors, it’s day time, probably late afternoon by the look of the sunlight. I take a deep breath, ready to take a step out those doors, ready to leave this awful fucking place, full of these awful fucking people. Eraser presses the handicap button and the door swinging open, the air is warm as we step out and it’s a little joy in this shitty situation that I bask in for a moment. When we step onto the sidewalk, I look up at Eraser Head. This protective stance, the hand on my hip, if I just ignore the handcuffs it’s like we’re a couple on a stroll. I smile up at him, thinking about how sweet he looks with his hair catching the late afternoon light. It’s golden hour and it settles on him nicely, highlighting his stark features. His eyes flick down to me and an expression of genuine surprise passes his face for a split second. He looks away quickly, a blush coating his cheeks, but his face returns to its stoic default.

We continue like this for a moment until we come up on his vehicle. I’m not sure what I expected, but a small wave of sadness washes over me as he opens the rear door, shoving me into the backseat. I didn’t really think he would put me in the front with him, but this feels so… impersonal. I guess that’s what we are. Impersonal. I mean, I don’t even know his last name. I slouch into the black leather of the car and pout to myself, feeling defeated. Eraser Head buckles me into the seat, leaning over me with his whole, big body. Heat floods my stomach and suddenly I’m feeling something… else. I huff, breathing in his scent, I can still smell the bergamot on him, but the other scent on him still eludes me. It’s sweet and musky, almost earthy. He pulls away before I can breathe in again, shutting the door on me, boxing me into this car alone again. He’s in the driver’s seat about 4 seconds later, but the silence of being alone again still stands out to me. I shake my head, and try to focus on the sounds of the car as he roars the engine to life and pulls out of the parking lot.

Thank you for reading! :)

I love reading yall’s comments so please leave a note for me! (see that double entendre hehe im so smart) 

but seriously, thanks for the love and the followers especially for only one fic

(also I hope u all can tell how much I fucking despise the cops for this chapter)

[lvllns]

it don't matter to me (wherever we are is where i wanna be)

the wayhaven chronicles. felix hauville x kincaid anderson (nb detective). teen and up rating for language. established relationship, mostly fluff with some angst. 1300+ words. — let's take our chances and roll the dice, chapter 1 of 3.

notes: this is just an excuse to write felix meeting the people kincaid considers family. i’m taking some liberties with the detective’s backstory but listen, i made a 6′5 cowboy, i’m gonna exploit the cowboy part of it.

[ao3 link]

—

Kincaid throws his truck into park with a sigh, but when Felix glances over, concerned, he only finds him smiling so wide his dimples are visible.

The ranch sprawls out in front of them, an endless sea of grass broken up by various buildings. Felix thinks he can see the barn from here, tucked to the right behind the house. A few cattle lift their heads, ears flicking forward with momentary curiosity before they return to grazing. He inhales. Deep. Lets the air fill his lungs and yeah, it smells like cows mostly. Little bit sweet from the grass, and a whole lot of just dirt.

It smells like cows and dirt.

He startles when Kincaid reaches over and takes his hand, bringing his knuckles to his lips for a brief kiss as he murmurs, “Thank you for agreein’ to come,” against his skin.

Felix shrugs, eyes darting from Kincaid to the land around them. “Why wouldn’t I?” He tilts his head, eyebrows knitting together as he focuses on Kincaid once more. “You’re important to me and they’re all important to you. I’d have to meet them eventually.”

Kincaid pulls his head back, thumb rubbing over the bumps of Felix’s knuckles. There’s something in his eyes Felix can’t place. Soft, tender. The bright green of them mellowing as the corner of his mouth lifts. “Extenuating circumstances and all that.” Kincaid shifts. Felix thinks about how this wasn’t supposed to happen. How Adam brought up a laundry list of issues surrounding the both of them going all the way out here for two days. What about food? I’m not trying to stop you two from doing this, but you need to be realistic about the situation. “I’ve...never actually brought anyone else here,” he says with a soft laugh. “Never really wanted to if I’m bein’ honest.”

“I’m special then?” Felix means it to be a lighthearted quip. A way to snap the tension in the cab of the truck, and he is caught off-guard by how earnest Kincaid’s expression becomes.

His hand is raised to Kincaid’s mouth again. Another soft kiss, another sentence whispered against his knuckles even as those moss bright eyes steadily hold his gaze. “You are...so special to me Felix.” He swallows around the sudden lump in his throat, watching as Kincaid lowers his hand once more. “You have no idea.”

Words stick at the back of his tongue. He means to say them, he does, but a woman comes hurrying out of the house hollering Kincaid’s name and the moment is gone.

A feather on the wind.

Kincaid tosses him a soft smile and throws his door open. “Stephanie!”

Felix slips from the car, his door shutting with a soft thunk, and he watches the two of them quietly.

She’s a good foot shorter than Kincaid, brown hair streaked with grey, but her dark eyes are sharp and clear. She—Stephanie—whacks Kincaid on the chest with the towel she’s holding and Felix watches as his giant of a partner shrinks in on himself, cheeks going red.

“Kincaid Everett Anderson, you don’t call for weeks and then you just show up!” Felix half expects her to swat at him again but she pulls him in for a hug. A kiss on his cheek. “We’ve missed you terribly.”

“I’ve been textin’ Jase, if he ain’t—”

“Hasn’t.”

Kincaid clears his throat. Glances at Felix, but all he can do is try to stifle his laughter. When it becomes clear he’s not going to be any help, Kincaid continues. “Right, sorry ma’am. If he hasn’t been telling you, that’s not—”

“How hard would it be to send me a text, hm?” She pinches his ear, a fond smile on her face, and Kincaid bats at her hand half-heartedly. “It’s calving season, Jason can hardly remember what day it is.” Felix snorts and regrets it immediately when that keen gaze is trained on him. Kincaid gets whacked in the chest with the towel. Again. “Who’d you bring with you?” Stephanie’s voice is much softer now, the corners of her eyes gentling. Felix tries not to think about I’ve never brought anybody here before and fails.

“Steph, this is Felix. Felix, Stephanie.” He watches Kincaid toe at the dirt with his boot, shoulders curling forward just a little bit more. “He’s my boyfriend. We’re dating.”

There’s a beat and Felix almost expects this to go sideways immediately but he finds himself wrapped in a monster of a hug by this tiny woman and oh, she is much stronger than he expected. Iron bands for arms as she squeezes him tight. He reacts out of instinct, hugging her back, and then it’s over. Her hands rest on his shoulders as she looks him up and down before nodding.

“It is about time you brought somebody out here Kincaid.” She grins. “It’s lovely to meet you, Felix.”

His head hurts a little bit. This is a lot. He takes a second to settle himself before flashing the most charming smile he can. “You as well.”

Stephanie pats his arm absently. “Everyone is inside, but I suppose you’ll be heading to the barn to drop your stuff off.”

Felix senses Kincaid scoot closer and closer until their arms are brushing, fingers knocking together. “We’re sleeping in the barn?” He quirks a brow. Looks up at Kincaid who chuckles.

“There’s an apartment above, like a second story.” Felix nods as he looks beyond the house to what he assumes in the barn.

“It’s where Kincaid slept most nights as a kid,” Stephanie says, voice fond and faraway. She shakes her head. “Anyway, go.” The towel is now aimed at both of them, flicking their direction. Felix laughs as he dances away. “I’ll tell everyone else you’re here, I expect y’all will be riding before long.”

Kincaid grins and it’s bright. Blinding. A flash of white teeth and metal. He suffers another hit with the towel before they finally break away and head back to the truck. Felix leans against the door as he watches Kincaid grab the single backpack they shoved all their stuff in. Not much for one single night, a change of clothes and toothbrushes mostly. He takes another deep breath (Remember Felix, you need to at least try to breathe regularly.) and taps his fingers together. It’s so quiet. Which is fine, mostly. It’s just, Felix is so used to activity and the constant moving from case to case, and it’s so weird to be able to shut down. To stop running. To sit down and soak in the peace of the countryside.

“Fee?” He doesn’t startle but it’s a near thing, head twisting to find Kincaid looking at him carefully. Concerned. “Ya okay?”

His accent is getting thicker, he thinks. Felix nods. “Fine. It’s just quiet out here.”

Kincaid hums. Wraps his arm around Felix’s shoulders and steps close. He drops a kiss to the top of his head. His temple. “If you wanna go back tonight—”

“No!” He tips his head up, eyes narrowing. “It’s just not something I’m used to, how still and silent it is. I’ll be okay.”

“Ya sure?” Felix nods. Kincaid kisses his cheek. “‘Kay, but you tell me if you need anything?”

“Right, if it’s too quiet I’ll ask you about your motorcycle.”

Kincaid snorts. “Hey, you said it.” Felix rolls his eyes, unable to mask the smile that splits his face.

Another kiss to his cheek and then Kincaid finally, finally, kisses him properly. He leans up as Kincaid leans down and it’s so good. It always is. His lips are a little chapped, but Felix doesn’t care. He wraps his arms around Kincaid. Pulls him closer until they’re seamed together from chest to hips. He could do this all day and all night. Really. It’s not like he needs to—

Kincaid pulls away to take a deep breath and it’s gratifying how flushed he is. Cheeks pink, the color mixing with the freckles that cover his skin. His eyes are blown black, only the thinnest ring of green visible. He clears his throat before, “We should, uh, our stuff.”

Felix takes pity on him. Backs away and takes his hand, lacing their fingers together. “Come on cowboy, show me around.”

[blue-bird-kny]

Day 5: It’s Lovely Weather for a Sleigh Ride Together With You

Here is day 5 with Nezuko! Who I don’t see enough of anywhere on this app and that is not acceptable. Enjoy~Amanda

Warning: None, but she is aged up older since in my mind she is baby

( 669 words)

  ↳ {In which you convince her that sometimes it pays to be reckless} 

The exuberant laughter that fell as you tacked together wood planks was what caught Nezuko’s attention first, then it was the ear-splitting pound of the mallet against the wood that pushed the rusty nails further into the material. “What’s that supposed to be?” she curiously pointed to your homemade sled, its uneven pieces making her silently question its safety. “It's a sled silly! When I was younger, me and the other kids in the village would build sleds and race down the tallest hill we could find” you reminisced in the memories of unsupervised children flying off bumps in the snow haphazardly, sinking into the wet ground without a care in the world, “good times”  

Nezuko blinked, trying to picture the ‘fun’ in young children putting themselves in danger, chuckling as the image of a small version of you recklessly playing around created itself in her mind, “I should be lucky you’re alive then”. You propped the sled against the wall and tied two knots of rope on each side to hold onto, “Tada! Now we can go sledding” your fingers dazzled as you presented your questionable handy work, “I don’t think I want to go sledding on that” Nezuko voiced, knocking her knuckles against the hollow wood. “C’mon we have to! It’s a winter tradition” you explained, clutching the hunk of wood like it was a prized gift. “Well I’ve never done it before” you gasped loudly as if the shorter girl had just confessed to a murder, “Oh then we’ve got to go” you held your arm out, “Don’t you trust me?” Nezuko didn’t doubt for a moment that she trusted you with her life so she clasped her hand around your gloved one, holding on tight as you whisked her off to the highest hill. 

Nezuko fearfully peered down at the small trees sloped several feet below her, her arms wrapped around yours for stability. “There’s nothing to be scared of Princess, we fight DEMONS for a living” you thought for a moment as you dropped the sled onto the fluffy snow, “Wait a sec.. you are a demon who can go outside in broad daylight, babe it doesn’t get more badass than you” you spoke genuinely, gazing lovingly into her vibrant pink orbs.

“Now sit before it gets dark” you urged; Nezuko positioned herself in front, already clutching the ropes as you readied yourself in the rear, “Here we go!” you shouted pushing the plank along the path, quickly nearing the edge. Just as the sled gained speed, you hoped on and  pulled the girl flush against your chest, your warm breath tickling her baby hairs as you whispered, “Keep your eyes open, I’ve got you” 

The sharp wind rumbled in your ears, freezing as it slapped your faces,  just barely being heard over the mix that was your wild laughter and Nezuko’s surprised yelps. The world passed by in a green and white blur as you both hurdled down the slope, your tight grip around her waist never wavering for a moment. Eventually things slowed down, gradually gliding along the plain before coming to a complete halt, “See it wasn’t so bad” you giggled from behind Nezuko.

You stood first, reaching out to help Nezuko up off the ground. She grabbed it of course, just as she had the first time you met and just as she did minutes ago when you encouraged her on this wild sleigh ride. This time, though, as her boots steadied  themselves on the mushy ground, she pulled you into a warm embrace, nuzzling her cold cheeks into the warm crook of your neck, “I had a lot of fun” she mumbled against the skin. Your hands paused for just a moment before enveloping the girl in them, snickering as you did so, “But you screamed the whole time” “Yea, but I wasn’t scared, you held on to me pretty tight” she responded. You leaned down, pressing your chapped lips against her unruly hair, “I’d never let you go”.

Holiday Event Masterlist

[wwitbeyondmeasure]

Summer at the Burrow / r.w. fan fiction

Previous Chapters

Introduction / Author’s Note / Chapter 1: The Journey to The Burrow / Chapter 2: Hidden Letters / Chapter 3: Ron’s Return / Chapter 4: Nighttime Conversations / Chapter 5: A Morning Surprise / Chapter 6: The Quidditch Match / Chapter 7: Girl Talk / Chapter 8: Aphrodite’s Push / Chapter 9: Mistakes and Love Potions / Chapter 10: You Would Be Fine / Chapter 11: Spell It Out

Chapter 12: Long Overdue

Author’s Note: okay i know the gif is romione but just pretend it’s y/n okay? okay! enjoy this chapter!

This was it, you thought.

Ron was towering over you, his hands cradling your face so gently it was as if you were the most precious thing in the world to him. He licked his lips slowly, seductively, and leaned even closer. Now your lips were almost touching. If you would lean forward just the slightest inch, you would be kissing. But instead of doing that, you waited, your heart in your throat and your knees weak, for his next words.

These next words, you thought, are going to change everything. What he says next will be years worth of pent up desire and longing and finally he was going to tell you he loved-

"Nice dress," he whispered.

You remained still, stunned.

Ron broke out into boyish laughter.

"Ronald!" you yelled, slapping his chest with the palm of your hand.

"Are you kidding me?" you demanded, equally hurt and embarrassed while also trying to suppress a laugh. This was him complimenting your cheesy shorts instead of kissing you in his room all over again.

Ron laughed a little more, before turning back to you and almost closing the gap. Almost closing it completely, but not quite.

"What were you expecting me to say, y/n?" he asked, his voice dropping an octave lower as his eyes searched yours. The atmosphere between your bodies quickly changed to something more serious.

You shrugged. "Dunno, something a bit more romantic than that," you replied.

Ron put his fingers up to his chin and pretended to think. He was back to his goofy self and no matter how annoyed you were with his antics, you still found yourself madly in love with him, faults and all.

"Alright," he said, drawing out the word. "How about this?" His hand dropped from his chin to your waist, pulling your body flesh against him. Your heart skipped a beat and you knew that if he kept this teasing up, you were going to have a heart attack.

"Would you have wanted me to say that I've dreamt about holding you every night since we danced together at the Yule Ball? That every time I see you with Bill I get crazy jealous because I wish you would want me as much as you wanted him?"

He looked like he had more to say so you stayed silent as he kept saying those words that made your heart melt.

"Or would you rather me have told you that every single time we took walks around the Great Lake together back at Hogwarts, I thought about kissing you? Every damn time. Would you have wanted me to tell you that I keep every single one of your letters in a box under my bed because  I miss you so fucking much in the summer that they are the only things that get me through?" he said, a little breathless, cheeks pink, and looking more vulnerable than you've ever seen him.

"Would you have wanted me to tell you how desperately I'm in love with you?" he finished.

It was dead silent between you, the only sounds the distant fireworks in the sky. Their vibrant colors reflected onto Ron's skin, his face turning shades of blue and red as the fireworks erupted. In that moment, he was the most breathtaking thing you have ever seen.

"Yeah, I probably would have wanted something like that," you joked quietly, flashing him a small grin. He returned it.

"C'mere," he mumbled, lifting your chin with his fingers as he finally closed the distance between you.

Even despite the fireworks exploding in the night sky, you could have sworn sparks were flying.

You had been dreaming about this kiss for the longest time, and it was already exceeding your expectations. His lips were soft against yours, but his rhythm was passionate. As soon as you connected, he had parted his lips, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Your lips molded to his and parted as well. He pushed your back up against the tree, kissing you harder, more passionately. Standing on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck, Merlin he was taller than you remembered, you pulled him in closer. He responded immedietly, tender hands finding their way to your hips and squeezing lightly. And you continued like that, mouths connected, hands roaming, finally sharing the kiss that you had both been wanting for years.

You don't know how much time had passed, it could have been 5 minutes, or perhaps an hour, but at some point you had to come up for breath. Pulling away from him, you leaned your head back against the wood of the oak tree as you caught your breath. Your knees were so weak from the kiss that the only thing keeping you standing up was Ron's strong arms holding you in place.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," Ron whispered, breathing heavy.

Giggling, you replied, "Probably not as long as I've wanted to."

He leaned down next to your face and pressed a light kiss to your cheek. "I seriously doubt that," he mumbled against your skin.

The fireworks continued filling the sky as you stood with Ron under the oak tree, leaning against one another like you were the only people in the world.

"Y/n," he said, lifting his head to look you in the eyes. "I'm sorry that I've hurt you, I'm an idiot sometimes."

Laughingly lightly, you nodded your head. "Yeah, you are." He laughed too, kissing your forehead. Despite how happy and full of love you were in that moment, a question still nagged in the back of your brain like a parasite.

"Ron, why did you say what happened in your room was a mistake?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady but the words ended up quivering anyways.

He shook his head, trying to find the correct words.

"I didn't mean that you and I, us, was the mistake. I meant it was a mistake for me to act like that when I was drugged up on Love Potion. I wanted our first kiss to be romantic, I guess, and in that moment I wasn't thinking clearly enough to tell you how I felt. I wanted you to know I loved you before we ever had our first kiss."

You were taken aback by his words. Ron had always come off as a goofy and silly guy, you never knew he had this romantic side to him. This only made you fall deeper in love as you grabbed his face, dragging him down to meet your lips again.

The second kiss was just as magical as the first, gentle yet passionate and as soon as it was over you couldn't help wanting more .

When the kiss ended, you stayed wrapped in each other's arms.

"So what do you say," he said, biting his bottom lip and swaying you slightly by the hips.

"What do you mean?" you asked, melting into his touch.

"Do you love me back?"

Now it was your turn to mess with him, just like he did with you.

"Hmm, I don't know, I'll have to think about that one," you said, your voice sing-songy as you grinned at him.

Ron rolled his eyes and brought you back in for a another breathtaking kiss. When you broke apart, he looked at you again, the question still in his eyes.

You nodded, pulling him closer, your lips ghosting over his.

"I love you, Ron, I always have," you whispered against his lips. The smile that spread across his face made every single emotion of this rollercoaster of a summer worth it. He kissed you again. By the end of the summer, your lips were going to be so swollen and chapped but you couldn't really bring it upon yourself to care.

As the kiss deepened, Ron's hands squeezed your hips again and you moaned in his mouth before you could think of stopping yourself. He froze immediately, and you winced, wishing you hadn't been so eager so soon.

He didn't miss a beat. "My room, tonight?" he whispered, holding you closer against him. So maybe he was equally as eager as you were...

You nodded, before replying, "Your bed is always open to me, right?"

He grinned, kissing you in response.

Your brain was so full of Ron and his lips and his hands that you forgot there was a party going on behind you. The fireworks had stopped a while ago and neither of you had even noticed.

But you noticed now when you heard loud, boisterous cheering. You and Ron froze as you looked towards the sound of the noise. From across the garden, Fred and George were jumping up and down, cheering, and high-fiving one another. Next to them stood Harry and Hermione who were both grinning.

"Bloody FINALLY!" Ginny shouted at you. Her shout brought the attention of Mr and Mrs Weasley to you and Ron. Mr Weasley gave his son a thumbs up while Mrs Weasley gave you a loving smile.

"We're never going to hear the end of this, are we?" he asked you.

Smiling, you replied, "not likely."

Ron grinned as the two of you walked back towards the crowd, hand in hand.

[rikalovesrice]

Douxie x Reader #5 - Favorite

Douxie was wiping down some freshly washed coffee mugs when you walked in. He raised a hand, about to call your name in greeting, when he noticed a boy follow you in. Some stocky lad with a chiseled face and hair slicked back with so much gel one couldn’t tell what color it was. The pair of you found seats in the corner of the café, setting book bags in the chairs and laptops on the table. Douxie watched you say something to the guy before you headed towards the counter. You saw Douxie and immediately smiled.

“Hi you,” you said, leaning on the counter, hands curled around your face.

“(Name),” Douxie replied, preparing your usual. “Who’s that over there?”

You glanced back at the chap, who had just taken a selfie and was now busying himself with posting it to social media. You turned back to Douxie with a sigh.

“Trevor Braxton,” you say. “He’s my partner for my final English project.” You groaned and put your face in your hands before sliding them down your cheeks. “Jeez, I really hope we work well together because this is the biggest project of the year and I kinda need to pass this class to graduate.” You peeked at Douxie and hushed your voice. “...I probably won’t be able to go hunting with you guys for a while.”

Douxie shrugged, smiling softly. “No worries.” They’d miss your company, but at least you’d be completely out of harm’s way for once. “And I’m sure you’ll do fine.” He slid your freshly made drink over to you in your favorite mug, the dark blue one depicting the silhouettes of rooftops and chimneys beneath stars and a crescent moon. “One hazelnut latte with almond milk. On me as always.”

You took the warm mug in your hands, wafting the steam with a content sigh. You smiled sweetly. “Thank you, Douxie.”

“Of course.”

“Well, we better get started. I’ll uh...Be over here!” You made your way back over to Trevor Braxton, who welcomed you back with a fist bump. Once you settled in, the two of you got to discussing your chosen topics. Towards the end of the night, when Benoit’s was shutting things down and Trevor had gone, you only exchanged a few words with Douxie before retiring home to do more homework.

And for the next three days, you and Douxie barely had a chance to talk. You were up to your eyeballs in schoolwork and studying for your finals and researching for your stupid project, hoping Trevor would pull his weight. Meanwhile Douxie was feeling your absence, bummed that all your time was consumed at the local library instead of Arcane Books. Archie and Zoe missed you, too. Douxie knew it would be like this at least for the next two weeks, until finals were over. His heart sunk at the thought.

So tonight, Douxie was overjoyed to see you stumble into Benoit’s with an armful of books. Trevor was right behind you, wearing a fitted t-shirt, gym shorts, and white socks with his black slides. You unloaded more books and your laptops onto the coffee table in the middle of the café. Douxie returned your soft, relieved smile when you hurried over to him.

“Douxieeee,” you whined, going to lean your forehead against his chest.

“There you are,” Douxie said. He brought you into a hug and didn’t overlook how exhausted you were.

“Ugh, I’m so sorry.” You pulled away, sighing heavily. “I’m so swamped. But thankfully my sister’s just as busy so she’s leaving me alone. And Trevor...” You glanced back at him. “He hasn’t been so bad. He’s pretty chill actually. Smart, too.”

“No worries. And...that’s good to hear. About your sister and about...Trevor.” 

Strange, though, that the smallest hint of it somehow didn’t feel good at all.

Throughout the shift Douxie would glance over at your table. You and Trevor would exchange a few words before burying yourselves back into your notes. Trevor had a book open in his lap and was studying it carefully. Wanting to check on you, and perhaps suggest taking a break, Douxie turned to make his way over to your table.

Only to see you laughing. Trevor Braxton was chuckling with you.

Normally Douxie loved it when you laughed. But right now, as endearing as it was, for some reason something felt...wrong. So wrong that it froze Douxie in place, leaving him staring, perplexed. Trevor said something else and you laughed again, this time a little harder. Trevor’s grin grew wider. The itching wrongness grew stronger. The whole thing wasn’t sitting right and urge to correct it, whatever that meant, churned throughout Douxie’s body. There was a passing thought, a fleeting feeling, that something was going to happen to you. Just as Douxie was about to move towards you, a customer called out.

“Uh Douglas, can I get another milkshake?”

Douxie whirled his head to the side, seeing a bunch of teenagers raising their empty glasses at him. He looked back at your table, where you and Trevor were now in casual conversation, before taking a deep breath, clearing his mind.

“Of course, right away.” Another quick glance back. Then he went back behind the counter, pouring milk and scooping ice cream into blenders. Douxie watched the ingredients spin rapidly, mixing and mushing together.

 A whirring vortex. 

Douxie heard you giggling.

Uneasy.

~

“I swear something’s not right,” Douxie said. “I just have a bad feeling about him.” 

“Ok so...You think he could be something?” Zoe said.

Douxie held his hand over his mouth, speaking low into his phone.

“If he is, (Name) might be in danger. He’s always around her.”

“Caaause of her project or whatever?”

“Yes!”

“So...Let me get this straight. You have a bad feeling about this guy who’s always around (Name).”

“Yes.” Exasperated, Douxie walked about aimlessly, wandering towards the cafe’s restrooms. 

There was a pause. Douxie frowned when Zoe chuckled.

“Um, Doux, are you sure you’re not just -”

“Zoe, I’m serious!” Douxie whispered harshly, holding his phone away from his face to glare at Zoe’s contact photo. “I don’t want to take any chances, especially if our friend might be in trouble.” Stopping near the men’s restroom, Douxie held his chin in thought. “He’s one of those obnoxiously handsome types. A vampire...? No, I’ve seen him in sunlight. So he can’t be an incubus either, thank God...” Now that was a thought that really made Douxie’s skin crawl and boil. “Oh! Or maybe he’s a -”

A bout of laughter came muffled through the restroom door. 

“Alright Star Trev, you got this!” a very dude-ish voice exclaimed. “Any moment now and you’ll have her right where you want her.”

Douxie near dropped his phone, his blood going cold. 

“Uh, Douxie?” Zoe said. “What -”

“Shhh!” Douxie clamped a hand over his phone and creeped closer to the restroom, carefully putting his ear just over the door. Trevor continued to chuckle to himself, an annoying, snot-nosed sound.

“Just a little longer,” Trevor said, voice getting lower. “And that heart’s gonna be yours. And it’ll be...delicious.” There’s was smack like the clapping of hands and another string of laughter. Douxie slowly backed away from the door, disgust and dread seizing him.

“A charmling,” he said, voice quivering. Charmlings. Simple creatures that resembled attractive humans, luring their victims in with their, well, charm, before literally ripping their hearts out to devour. All things considered, this was the most probable conclusion. So Douxie steeled himself, clenching a fist and glowering at the restroom door concealing an apparent monster that was targeting you.

“A charmling? Are you for real?” He forgot Zoe was still on the line. “I mean seriously, Douxie, are you sure you’re not just a little bit jea-”

“I’ll call you back.” Douxie hung up, shoving his phone into the pocket of his sweatshirt and turning tail to where you were. He had to let you know. One of his co-workers cocked an eyebrow at his rushing back into the dining room.

“Uh, Doux? You still have, like, fifteen minutes left of your break- “

“It’s fine!” Douxie quickly located you at your table, where you were studiously typing away on your laptop. Douxie walked briskly over. “(Name)!”

You looked up from your work and blushed, giving Douxie a smile for the pleasant interruption. Then you noticed how antsy he was.

“Douxie? What’s the matter?”

“It’s Trevor, (Name),” Douxie said quickly. “He’s- “

“What about me?”

Douxie whipped around. Speak of the devil, standing with his bulky arms crossed over the all-capitalized word ‘SPICY’ on his red t-shirt. Trevor’s narrowed eyes didn’t leave Douxie as he sat back down at the table, slipping what looked to be his phone into his pocket. The corner of Douxie’s mouth twitched when you looked at him with that kind, welcoming, precious look of yours but, oh, if only you knew...

“You were gone for a while,” you said. “Everything okay?”

“Wha?” Trevor noticed you and grinned. “Yeah, it’s all good. Just had to take care of something, you know?”

It only made Douxie’s eyes harden. Charmlings had to preen themselves periodically to maintain their striking human guise. Make sure claws and fangs and patches of non-human skin were well put away until it was time. That time wasn’t going to come, not if Douxie had an atom of anything to say about it.

“Uh, you got a problem, dude?” Trevor said, likely feeling the intensity of Douxie’s stare. You hadn’t noticed and just frowned at Trevor’s rude tone.

Douxie opened his mouth, stinging accusation on the tip of his tongue, but then he remembered where he was. It probably wasn’t the best idea to expose some good-looking guy as a flesh-ripping, heart-eating monster in front of the peacefully oblivious civilians of Arcadia chilling in the café. 

Taking a deep breath through his nose, Douxie forced a smile.

“Of course not,” he said. “I uh...Just wanted to tell you you’re our one-hundredth customer tonight! So you get, uh...a free beverage of your choice.” Douxie’s thoughts bitterly added, Free because I’m paying for it...

Trevor silently glowered at Douxie for a few seconds before breaking out into excited chortling, rubbing his hands together.

“Hoho, sweet! Gimme a large Jungle Juice smoothie. Extra spinach.”

Douxie’s gnashed his teeth behind his lips in an attempt to keep from scowling. “Right away.”

His eyes flickered over to you. You had one brow raised in question, clearly sensing something was amiss. Unable to say much else, Douxie sighed and left the table. Text. He was going to text you, he was going to text you... 

“Yeaaahh, ya boy’s gonna get us an A plus, (Name)!” Trevor’s voice was a distinct bark above the conversations buzzing around the dining room, grating on Douxie’s nerves. That fact that he’d said your name somehow made it worse.

 A lot worse.

Co-workers were a bit perturbed to see an unusually grouchy Douxie glaring dark daggers across the room while dumping an entire bag of spinach into a blender.

~

They were being pelted by globs of acidic monster saliva but that didn’t stop Douxie from answering his phone as soon as it rang.

“(Name)!” Douxie exclaimed, yelling above monstrous gurgling and loud blasts of magic.

“D-Douxie?” you voice came through. “Okay, I...I don’t get it. Trevor is dangerous and trying to eat my heart?” An explosion, courtesy of Archie. “Um, what was that? Are you fighting something right now?”

“Well, uh, yes, but that’s not important - GAAHH!” Douxie whirled out of the way of a mouthful of teeth, the creature instead taking a chunk out of the pavement. The new hole in the ground was steaming, melting away. The creature, a poisonous and slimy mubok, twisted its serpentine body of sludge back towards him, its white drooping eyes glaring.

“Hey! Why are you on the phone right now?!” Zoe barked, throwing handfuls of lightning at the mubok. 

“Just a second!” Douxie said. “Real quick, I have to tell (Name) about Trevor!”

The next blast of electric magic sent the mubok splatting against the alley wall. An exasperated Zoe faced Douxie with clenched fists.

“Are. You. Joking?!” 

“No, I’m not! This is important-”

Yeah, now realizing the time, you shouldn’t have called. Not wanting to jeopardize the hunt tonight, you hurried to put the call on hold. “Doux, I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay? I think you need to concentrate.”

“What? No, wait, (Name)-”

“I know, I’ll be careful, alright?” You couldn’t help but laugh softly over Douxie being so worried about you. Sometimes it was overbearing, but even then the giddiness bubbling inside you was there. “Tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay, okay, just whatever you do, don’t go anywhere alone with hi- OH FUZZBUCKETS!!!” Another explosion and what sounded like Archie yowling, and the call ended anyway.

You brought your phone away from your face and just stared at it, trying to process. To be honest, nothing surprised you much these days, what with finding out and knowing for a while now that wizards and trolls and whatever else existed. Heck, aliens were real at this point.

Now the guy who’s your partner for a project worth eighty percent of your grade might be trying to eat you.

~

As soon as Trevor excused himself from the table, Douxie made his way over to you, giving Trevor the side eye as they passed each other. The git was going towards the restroom.

Douxie pulled up a chair and sat next to you. After so long of being away from him, the warmth and comfort of Douxie’s closeness was almost overwhelming. Even panicked and suspicious, Douxie was so cute and amazing. But remembering the disturbing news, you shook away your reverie and set your books to the side.

“Okay so...about Trevor,” you began, leaning close and your tone hushed.

“Right,” Douxie said. He went on to explain what a charmling was. “Terrible things. I knew someone years ago who’d fallen victim to one. The poor guy was found with a gaping wound in his chest. His eyes were stolen, too, which was odd- “

“Umm, okay, thanks,” you muttered, shuddering. Douxie quickly backpedalled.

“Sorry!” He leaned his elbow on the table, bringing himself closer to you and darn it, you couldn’t help but blush. “We can take care of this tonight. Convince him to stay until closing and I’ll do him in.” Douxie cocked his head in confusion when you suddenly looked...sad. “What is it?”

“It’s just...Geez, it kinda sucks,” you said, shrugging. “I thought Trevor was a pretty cool guy. Surprisingly hilarious, too, and a solid partner. Are you sure he’s a charmling or whatever?” 

Normally you wouldn’t doubt Douxie on secret monster matters but the thought of your ditzy but harmless enough classmate being sent to limbo was quite the bummer. But on the other hand, yeah, you kind of needed your heart to stay alive so...

Hearing you vouch for Trevor even in the slightest was making Douxie’s stomach coil. Something in him was urging him to consider your words, that maybe he was jumping the gun here, but Douxie couldn’t bring himself to stop and think this time. Too....bothered.

Trevor’s smug face crossed Douxie’s mind.

No, make that too annoyed.

“Believe me, I heard him clearly in the bathroom that day,” Douxie said. He nudged your arm. “Come on, I know a monster when I see one. Been doing this for centuries after all.”

Your shoulders slouched with a sighing chuckle. “True. I’ll figure something out. He may be book smart but otherwise Trevor’s a bit on the...dense side.” 

“Works in our favor then.”

You noticed Trevor returning from the restroom and watched him closely. Trevor winked at you but his face soured at the sight of Douxie.

“What’re you doing here Mr. Emo Dude?”

“Hey, Trevor!” Okay, granted, you didn’t like the way Trevor talked to Douxie. Granted again, it made more sense now. Trevor could probably sense somehow that Douxie wasn’t normal himself.

Douxie met Trevor’s gaze evenly, drumming his fingers on the table and feigning pleasantries. You scolding the guy somehow made it easier. “I’m just talking with my friend. Haven’t been able to see her much these days, what with your project.”

Trevor snorted, plopping down into his chair. “Uh, alright man. We’re almost finished, though. I mean once we get our A plus I’ll be done with her, right (Name)?” Trevor lightly smacked your shoulder in what appeared to be jest, snickering at his own perceived hilarity. But you’d gone stiff and your heart began to race because with Trevor in a whole new context, that just didn’t sound good at all.

Then you felt Douxie’s familiar hand on your shoulder. He had his other hand behind his back balled into a fist.

“Good,” Douxie said shortly, still working a tight smile. “I’ll leave you two be then.” He gave your shoulder a squeeze before getting up, putting his chair back where he got it, and returning to work.

“Pfft, what a weirdo,” Trevor murmured. 

“Uh, hey so...” You racked your brain, trying to come up with something, anything. Trevor was holding his phone and an idea came involving his latest obsession. “Did you know that Benoit’s has a special deal with the Granny’s Baking House app?” 

~

Even though you’d been absent after hours for a while now, everyone still knew you as the girl who always stayed behind and waited for Douxie. Kind of odd that some dude was with you this time but whatever. As long as you didn’t make a mess.

You and Trevor had packed all your things away. Trevor was so engrossed in his phone that he didn’t notice you slip away, wringing your hands, and join Douxie near the counter. 

“Okay, I want you to go outside, but don’t go far,” Douxie said, securing his charm bracelet around his forearm. He didn’t want you in here once they got started. “He’ll try to follow you...” Magic flashed over the surface of his bracelet, symbols flickering. “But that’ll be the end of it.”

“Got it.” You went back over to the table and gathered your things. “Well, I’m going to head home. Thanks again, Trevor.”

He glanced up from his phone. “Want me to walk you?”

“Eh, no it’s okay! I’ll be fine. And I wouldn’t want you to miss your big boost.”

“Pfft, bro, it’s cool,” he said, shrugging. “It’s, like, super late and dark outside. I don’t anything to happen to you, you know?”

Trevor flashed his pearly whites in a smile and you swallowed, chills rippling down your spine. 

“...Right. Thanks.” 

Getting his stuff, Trevor followed you to the door. You made sure to go first, and as soon as you were completely outside, the door slammed shut behind you. You spun around, gaping as the door and windows were outlined with Douxie’s blue magic. The door locked on its own and the lights inside died, plunging the café in partial darkness.

“What the heck?” Trevor pushed and pulled on the door but to no avail. You took a step back when Trevor looked at you, gritting his teeth, and tried ramming the glass. Still nothing.

“You’re not going anywhere, Star Trev.” Douxie emerged from the shadows, magic pulsing in his hands. “And you’re not laying a finger on (Name).”

“Dude what are you talking abou- AAIIIEEEEE!!!” A high-pitch scream, and Trevor was throwing himself out of the way of a blast of blue. He scrambled away and back onto his feet. “Yo, dude, what’s going on?!”

“Oh, don’t play dumb!” Douxie said. “You can’t fool me, charmling!” Douxie crossed his arms over his face then released, ropes of magic flinging out and wrapping around Trevor. He fell back onto the floor, writhing and whimpering. Strange that he wasn’t putting up much a fight...

“Go on, then!” Douxie said, his magic poised for another attack. “Reveal your true self!”

“Uh..uh..M-my name’s Trevor, I-I’m eighteen and I like puppies and I a-actually cheated on my math exam and I think emo guys are r-really cool and- Dude please don’t hurt me!!!” Trevor kept squirming, now shaking with melodramatic sobbing.

Alright, so things were starting to not add up but Douxie didn’t relent. “Me hurt you? You’re the one who wants to eat (Name)’s heart!”

“Huh?! Y-yo, I ain’t a cannibal man!” Trevor wailed. “I-I mean I bit my brother once b-but that was a long time ago but I wasn’t tryin’ to eat him!!”

Okay this...wasn’t supposed to happen. Douxie lowered his bracelet arm just a little bit, his hostility wavering.

“Then what was all that talk about a delicious heart?” He couldn’t relax just yet. “Didn’t you stay behind today to get (Name) alone?”

“What? Bro, (Name) told me if I stayed here until midnight I would get extra brownie points for Granny’s Baking House!” His terror suspended for a moment, Trevor struggled and somehow managed to fish his phone out of his pocket, showing to the screen to Douxie. Sure enough, a cartoonish grandma in a fluffy apron and a pair of pink oven mitts was smiling warmly back at him, a window full of pastries on display behind her. The screen then flickered to a picture of the same grandma clad in armor, brandishing a pie at a three-headed dragon.

“Brownie...points?” 

Trevor rolled his eyes at the apparent amateur Douxie was. “Uh, yeah. If you get five hundred brownie points, Granny gives you a heart-shaped cake! It’s the strongest cake in the game, man! And it even comes with a real life recipe. All I need is, like, fifty more points!”

“Heart...shaped...cake...”

Oh, fuzzbuckets.

“Dude, why do you keep, like, repeating my words?” Trevor sighed, leaning his head back against the floor. “Yeah, but then (Name) was gonna walk home alone and like I wouldn’t be a gentleman if I didn’t go with her, ya know?” Then he reverted into a mocking tone. “Whatever, I bet this place wasn’t even going to give me that many brownies. Hardy-har-haaar!” And then he seemed to remember that he was still tied up. “U-uh, but for real, Emo Dude, I ain’t trying to steal your girl! L-like she’s cool but n-not really my type...”

Douxie felt his face go warm. “She’s not my girl, she’s my...” His smacked his hand against his forehead. “Ugh, blast it all...” How had it come to this?

With a wave of his hand, Douxie released Trevor from the binds. Trevor rose nervously to his feet. Douxie sagged his shoulders, feeling bad. 

And really, really stupid.

“Well...This was clearly a misunderstanding. My apologies, Trevor.” Douxie willed the lights to turn back on and the doors to unlock. You hurried inside, having watched the whole thing.

“What’s going on?” you asked, looking back and forth between the two. “Is...everything good?”

“Yo, are you, like, a magician?” Trevor asked, awestruck as Douxie punched in a spell on his bracelet. “How’d you do all of that-”

“Interminus nocti slumberso.” A blue mist blew out of Douxie’s hands and onto Trevor’s face, instantly knocking him out cold onto the couch. You were about to protest, but then it didn’t take you long to figure out what must’ve happened. So you stayed silent, somewhere between relief, wanting to laugh, and wanting to give Douxie a hug (though, you were always down for the latter).

He and you listened to Trevor’s snoring for several seconds before looking at each other. 

Looking at you standing beside him after so long, having nothing to do with schoolwork or Trevor, the void the last two weeks without you left was even more apparent.

 Douxie was so glad to see you. To just be with you.

“I...messed up,” was all he could say, his eyes downcast.

You breathed a chuckle through your nose. “It’s okay. I’m quite glad my heart is safe and not at risk of being eaten by a monster.” You gestured to Trevor. “And that this guy will probably think it was all a dream.”

Douxie groaned, sinking down into the nearest chair and rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“I don’t know what came over me,” he murmured. “Ah, fuzzbuckets....”

“What do you mean?” 

“I just...I don’t know. I had such a bad feeling about him.” Douxie flicked a hand towards Trevor, who was now curled in a fetal position and murmuring something about pancakes. “And he was always around you so I figured you were in trouble somehow but...”

Your eyes widened and your heartbeat started to pick up. “Were you...upset? That he was always around me?”

Upset? Douxie stared back at you. He hadn’t known for the longest now what to call what he’d been feeling every time Trevor made you laugh. Every time you mentioned how smart and funny he was. Every time Douxie knew you were at the library with him. Every time he was right behind you coming into Benoit’s. All of a sudden for two weeks you’d been sparse in Douxie’s life, instead occupied with...someone else. Some other...

Douxie looked away, hiding his face. “I guess I was a little upset.” He sighed in frustration, running a hand through his hair. “I mean, I’ve missed you, (Name), and seeing you with Trevor all the time and hardly being able to talk you was just...I suppose I felt...”

“...Jealous?” The word slipped before you realized it. Now that you had, your face went scarlet and your body felt fuzzy because could Douxie really feel jealous over you? Did he long for your attention like you longed for his? But then the surprised and contemplating look on Douxie’s face had you scrambling to recover because that just couldn’t be the case and so not that sort of jealousy.

“Uh, I-I mean...maybe not jealous. Some people just give off a vibe, you know? You don’t always click with everyone. Trevor didn’t seem to really like you either and -”

“(Name).” Douxie was smiling at you. Then he got up and threw an arm around your shoulders, leaning his cheek on top of your head. “No...I think you’re right. I guess...I didn’t want him to steal you away from m...from us.” He looked down at you. “You didn’t find him too charming, did you?”

How could Douxie ask you that when he was holding you and grinning at you like that? If only you could tell Douxie that no one compared to him in your eyes. That no one shined brighter than your beloved wizard.

“Not in the slightest,” you said, your cheeks pink. “I missed you...you guys like crazy, too.” You leaned your head against Douxie’s shoulder. “No one’s stealing me. You guys are my...” What were you saying? Think, think, think. “My favorites!” You looked up and smiled awkwardly. “You guys are my absolute favorites. And you’re my favorite b- er...guy...friend! My favorite, best guy friend ever.”

Douxie stared down at you for several seconds before bursting into a fit of laughter muffled into his fist. It put you in a trance because you rarely saw Douxie laugh but it was one of the greatest things in the world. It was so lovely you forgot to feel embarrassed.

“Well that’s good to hear,” Douxie said. His eyes went all gentle, so your insides turned to goo. “You’re also my favorite, (Name).” Douxie took in your soft, kind eyes gazing up at him. Your slightly parted lips. Your rosy cheeks. Every time without fail, it sent warmth like a candle blooming in his chest. 

Precious.

~

“I passed everything!” you exclaimed as you burst through the doors of Arcane Books. You gave Douxie a walloping high-five and flopped across the counter, thoroughly done with school. “One more week and I’m graduating, can you believe it?”

“Congratulations,” Douxie said, ruffling you hair. He finished organizing a stack of books onto a shelf before joining you at a table. “How was Trevor today?”

You shrugged with a grin. “Himself. Going on about how eating too much spinach gives you ‘wicked dreams.’”

“We’ll let him have that one.” Douxie smiled. “It’s good to have you back, (Name).”

Douxie sitting across from you with a backdrop of bookshelves and gothic decorations. It filled your heart. 

“Glad I can be back.” You stretched out across the table before folding your arms under you and closing your eyes. Unable to see Douxie’s face. How truly happy he was. 

You were here with him. 

You were with each other.

Favorites.

[therealcalicali]

Lillesøster - Krigen: Chapt 16

Chapter 16 Warnings:  Angst, Deception, Violence and Intrigue

Word Count: 8,102

Setting: Viking Era

Genre: Romance/Drama/Epic  

Pairing: Ragnarssons x Reader, Alfred x Reader, Aethelred x Reader (No details because it would spoil the story)

Read Season 1: Here

Catch Up: Chap 1 Chap 2 Chap 3 Chap 4

Chap 5 Chap 6 Chap 7 Chap 8 Chap 9

Chap 10 Chap 11 Chap 12 Chap 13

Chap 14 Chap 15  Chapter 17

Chapter 18 Chapter 19

You and Alfred had barely passed the threshold of the Great Hall when a large hand grasped at your wrist. When you turned, it was none other than your father. With a crooked smirk, he eyed you with peculiar interest.

“Birdie, come and greet your father.”

Instantly, you let go of your husband’s arm and embraced Ragnar.

And in that moment, he was your entire world. Because not only had he proven himself a loving parent over time, he had led your War. Something he was not obligated to do, despite you being blood relations. Because truth be told, Ragnar set aside his own kingdom concerns for your sake.

Indeed, he left Kattegat under the rule of a proxy just to Command your armies. Something he had never done under any circumstances. Thus, there was no amount of coin that could compensate for such devotion.

“You do not know how happy I am.” You whispered as the embrace continued. “I prayed for everyone morning and night. But mostly, you.”

“That is a fortunate thing. Because your prayers will counteract Aslaug’s own.” Ragnar replied with a hint of amusement.

He then kissed the top of your head.

After letting go, he quickly added that your stepmother hated him. So much in fact, that she had barely looked at him since their arrival. Obviously, the comment did not sit well with you. Because despite knowing that their marriage was on shaky ground, you still felt hopeful. For that reason, you snatched the horn of mead from his hand.

Stunned by your actions, Alfred raised a brow. However, he remained silent and kept to your side.

“Father, please attempt to be amiable. No matter the problem, it is not insurmountable.” You implored. “Besides, you have only just returned. So let there be peace between you.”

“The only peace there will be, are pieces of Ragnar scattered throughout this castle.” Rollo interrupted with a chuckle. He then shoved his brother aside. “Trust me, Y/N. If a mere look could kill, your father would be dead already.”

Your Uncle then put a massive arm about you and pulled you close.

Defeated by their inane laughter, you could only look between them. Apparently, neither man seemed keen on taking your words seriously. But then again, they were having their fill of King Garrat’s imported spirits. Thus, you could not expect much.

“Your belly has expanded a great deal.” Ragnar noted before setting his palm to the rounded bulge. “It’s as if you have a fleet of ships in there.”

“Father, please! I tire of people speaking as if I am made of stone.” You replied, your brow sewn together in annoyance. “Everyone makes me feel as if I am the size of a cow.”

With a repentant expression, Ragnar rubbed your belly and declared he was only jesting. Furthermore, he insisted that he was not referring to your body as a whole. But rather, how much the baby had grown. Amused by this, you acknowledge the fact. Because despite your sentiments, there was no denying that your belly was massive.

“What of the Healers?” Ragnar asked with a glint of concern in his eyes. “Have they said that you are both doing well?”

With a nod, you assured your father that everything was going as expected.

In fact, your numerous symptoms had greatly reduced. So much in fact, that you had taken to practicing Archery with King Garrat. Naturally, this drew satisfied chuckles from Ragnar and Rollo. But Alfred was not so keen.

In fact, he looked at you with some disapproval.

Though the Prince was accustomed to your willful proclivities, he assumed being with child would improve things. But apparently, he was greatly mistaken. In spite of his displeasure however, Alfred chose to keep his opinion to himself.

Because one thing he had learned, was to choose his battles well.

“Take more, Y/N.” Floki declared as he pushed a platter of roasted pheasant toward you. “It is said that hearty foods are good for women in your condition.”

But despite enjoying your Uncle’s company, you nearly cringed.

Typically, you enjoyed such delicacies. However, the smell of the meat instantly turned your stomach. Thus, you passed it to a nearby servant and asked that she take it away.

“Do not tell me you are going to vomit.”

“I will if you keep passing dishes over.”

With a chuckle Floki patted your hand and apologized. Though he meant well, he had no idea how bad you had it. Adding that his late wife had gone through the same. Naturally, you were intrigued by this. Because despite him being unattached, you had been told that the Shipbuilder was once married.

“Helga was quite like you in temperament. And when she was expecting our first child, she became even worse. Any time I returned from a hunt; she would glare at me. Always insisting I dress my kills them far from the longhouse or else.”

“And would you?”

“Of course. I mean, it was best to do it at a nearby friends home than to risk being attacked.”

“Of come off it, Uncle.” You said with a laugh. “I am certain that she did not mean a word of those threats. Truth be told, being with child can make one quite moody.”

A bittersweet smile crossed Floki’s face. 

Indeed, there was much you did not know. Mostly, that his enigmatic personality was actually a shield from reality. Because the Shipbuilder had yet to finish mourning his wife and daughter.

“Tell me more of her.”

“Come now, Y/N. There is no need to bore you with tales of the past. Besides, those things happened before you were born. All of it, lost to the Northern winds.”

Despite his protesting, you insisted. Declaring that you wished to hear of his life just as you had done with Rollo. A name you knew would trigger Floki to do as asked. Because one thing he disliked, was being upstaged by your belligerent Uncle.

Thus, the Shipbuilder began regaling you with the ghosts of things long forgotten.

“Well, someone say something. How shall we tell her?” Gunni asked, tipping his horn of mead.

Bjorn, Sigurd and Ubbe then exchanged glances, none exactly sure of how to respond. But there was one thing they all knew for certain. 

That you had to be told the truth. And that it was best done sooner, than later.

“A wise man once said, “The straightforward approach is always best.” Gunni said thoughtfully. “Thus, there is no reason to attempt to shield Y/N from the news. Because knowing her temperament, beating about the bush will only incur her wrath.”

Alfred paused at the suggestion whilst the others continued to discuss things further.

Being your husband, everyone had agreed that he would have the final say. However, in spite of this, the Prince was still apprehensive about saying anything at all. For he knew one thing was certain. You would surely lose your temper, no matter how the subject was approached.

“Alfred, you have said nothing.” Bjorn said. “If you cannot handle things, I can tell her myself. After all, she is my sister.”

“I am capable of speaking to my own wife.” Alfred countered, his tone one of contemplative concern. “But you must remember, she is with child. For that reason, I am in no rush to upset her.”

“No one begrudges you of that concern. However, you do not know Y/N as we do. She is more resilient than you may believe.” Sigurd interjected as Hvitserk nodded in agreement.

Like your husband, your brothers were also anxious about your condition. But what had to be done, could not be avoided. Thus, Sigurd added that you were not the type to overlook dishonesty. Even it was meant to spare your feelings.

So as the men ended the discussion, it was decided that Bjorn would be the one to approach you.

“I would like to be present as well. Y/N may need me.” Alfred said, as the others went their way.

With a shrug, your eldest brother declared that he was welcome to do as he pleased. However, he suggested that your husband prepare himself for the worst. Because one thing the Ragnarssons had learned over time, was that your anger rivaled only that of Ragnar’s.

Whilst Aethelred was sat, busily replying to a long-held correspondence from Wessex, Cassandra entered.

The Lady had been patiently awaiting her husband’s presence in the Great Hall. But after some time of sitting alone and listening to others converse, she had her fill. Thus, she thought it best to go in search of her absentee spouse.

But when he heard the door to the small study close, Aethelred seemed unaffected by her presence.

“What is it?” He asked, barely looking up from the papers before him. “I am in the midst of a pressing matter.”

“Is that how you greet me now?” Cassandra asked as her pleasant smile turned to an expression of vexation. Crossing her hands over her chest, the young woman then glared at the elder Saxon Prince. “Since the arrival of your convoy, you have yet to send for me. But even as I welcome you, there is no semblance of enthusiasm. In fact, you behave as if we have not been apart for weeks on end.”

“For the love of God. Did you come in here simply to chew at my ear? If so, I suggest you save your breath. Because as you can see, I’m focused on important matters.”

“Important, he says.” Cassandra scoffed, her eyes setting upon his in anger. Perhaps Aethelred did not feel the weight of so many women being with child, but she did.  “And what is more important than us starting a family?”

As his fist hit the desk with a great thud, Aethelred finally looked at his wife.

Truly, the words cut him to the core. So much in fact, he could barely contain the anger that now frothed deep within him. For one thing Cassandra did not understand was that he was not made of stone. Yes, the Prince did in fact want a family all his own.

However, he also had other troubles festering in his homeland. The kind that threatened to change the very course of his life. Thus, arguing with the wife he had yet to fall for, did little to bring him comfort.

“You are exactly like my mother. Always speaking without forethought or wisdom.” Aethelred seethed through tense jaw. “You behave as if I enjoy my current lot in life. Do you suppose I was gladdened at being betrothed at the last minute? Our vows, nothing more than an afterthought? Do you think such facts enable me to sleep at night?”

“I…………………….” Cassandra stammered. As she searched for the right words, her courage began to fail her. “That is not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean? Because ever since you appeared in my life, you are always at my heels. If it not complaints, its advising me to do one thing or another. And frankly, I have grown tired. I will not placate someone that behaves like the woman who ruined my life!”

With great reluctance, the Lady held her skirts as her mind raced.

Though they had not been married long, Cassandra was actually fond of her husband. For that reason, she did not retreat from the Study. Instead, she apologized once more before confessing that she was only frustrated at not being with child.

Unfortunately, her words did little to improving things. Because the declaration instantly caused Aethelred’s gaze to go cold.

“So, you wish to become a mother.” He said with a peculiar nod. “That is good to know. Because I too have always dreamt of becoming a father. However, none of those thoughts ever included you. So if you are done ruining what little peace I still possess, we shall speak another time.”

Had it not been for her upbringing, Cassandra’s knees would have lost their strength.

Indeed, nothing in her entire life had hurt more. Not that she did not understood Aethelred’s feelings. After all, he had been madly in love prior to their betrothal. But the Lady had always believed that they were establishing something of their own. And in time, the Prince would come to treat her as a true wife.

Thus, she never expected Aethelred to speak with such indifference.

“I…………………..I shall return to the Great Hall.” Cassandra stammered, her heart beating so fast, she swore he could hear it. “And before I forget, your father asked of you twice. He said there is much for the two of you to discuss.”

“Halt!” A broad-shouldered guard bellowed. He then approached the party before him as another raised a torch aloft. “It is half past midnight already. Therefore, no one shall pass unless there is urgent business at hand.”

With some frustration, Sir Mansfeld’s men grumbled.

After a long journey from the encampments, they now dreamed of only their beds. That and perhaps some much needed food. Thus, they looked to their Master, hoping the evenings’ work would not be prolonged.

As expected, the arrogant Knight curtly declared that he wished to speak to Sir Ronan. Adding that the meeting could not wait for the morning.

Because despite what he had once believed, Sir Mansfeld’s chance meeting with Ivar had proven beneficial. For your brother had done him a considerable favor. Something he hoped would regain Dorian’s favor.

It was a desperate gamble, of course. But one worth making since your cousin no longer favored House Kensington. In fact, he had taken to calling them a “Den of traitors”. Thus, Ivar handing over a useful prisoner, was quite welcomed.

Nevertheless, your brother had not helped Sir Mansfeld out of benevolence. Because he too benefited from the transaction.

“I understand the urgency, Milord.” One of the elder Guardsmen declared. “But unless you give good reason, I cannot wake our Master.”

“If I am not allowed to see Sir Ronan, I shall dismount and cut you all down.” Sir Mansfeld proclaimed, tired of being kept waiting. “Because as I have said already, my purpose is for his eyes and ears only. So, what shall it be?”

“Alfie, you are being quite strange this evening.” You remarked as the Prince moved about the Library. “Did you lure me from the feast for a specific reason? Or are we simply here to admire King Garrat’s trinkets?”

Though he tried, the Prince could not bring himself to force a smile. So instead, he picked up a crystal figurine, examining it before looking at you.

“What is it?” You asked with a raised brow. “If you are hiding a present, please do not keep me waiting. Because you know I detest surprises.”

But before your husband could mumble a response, Bjorn entered. 

Obviously, you were a bit confused as to why your brother was there. Especially since the revelry in the Great Hall had not become quite raucous. Thus, you asked if he too was on in Alfred’s little game.

Confused by the query, Bjorn glanced at Alfred, the two exchanging glances. But this only caused you to grow frustrated by the strange behavior. So instead of asking more questions, you walked to your husband and snatched the figurine from his hand.

“I insist that you tell me what is going on. Or else, I will not speak to you the rest of the night.” You said with a furrowed brow. “I detest feeling as if you are both plotting something.”

“Y/N, calm yourself. There is nothing afoot.” Bjorn said as he looked at you with sincerity. “However, we do have something to inform you of. So if you will please take a seat--------”

“I will do no such thing. Whatever I must hear, can be done whilst I’m upon my feet.”

It was then you noticed Alfred’s gaze change to one of great concern.

For that reason, you demanded that your husband and brother speak. Because not only was your patience wearing thin, but you had no intentions of sitting. Obviously, both men were quite apprehensive. But invariably, they understood that little could be done once your mind was made.

Thus, Bjorn approached, not simply to keep his words from prying ears. But he wished to catch you, should your strength falter.

“Sister, I will not belabor the message.” He said. “Despite winning nearly every battle and routing Dorian’s forces, not everything is perfect. Because during a scouting mission, Lancille and his men were ambushed.”

Instantly, you felt nauseous. As you grasped onto Bjorn’s arm, Alfred dragged a chair over and asked that you sit. This time, you obliged.

“Wha……………………………what do you mean?” You stammered as your brother’s words raced through your mind. “Where is he?”

“Love, please.” Alfred pleaded. “If you do not take care, you will upset yourself and the baby.”

Though you wanted to snap at him, the Prince was correct. The last thing you wanted was to put your unborn child in danger. Thus, you took a moment to compose yourself. After letting out a deep breath, you looked to Bjorn again.

“Please do not spare my feelings. Because the good Lord knowns that Lancille has endured much for my sake.” You said with gravity. “So, is he is alive? Or have you brought his body for me to mourn?”

“From what we know, he is indeed alive.” Bjorn replied. “Ivar said that by time his party happened upon the scene, most of Lancille’s men were dead. However, a mortally wounded Archer told them that the Knight had been taken prisoner.”

“And that is good news, actually. It proves they mean to use him as a bargaining tool.” Alfred added in an attempt to ease your mind.

“Why did Ivar not report this to me himself?” You asked. “Is he not my Hand?”

With some hesitation, Bjorn confessed that the youngest Ragnarsson had not come with them. Instead, he chose to pass through the Trudig encampments to take care of some business. 

With jaw tensed, your gaze fell upon the smoldering embers of the fireplace.

Indeed, War was an ugly affair. A reality the late Sir Alcanore, had emphasized on numerous occasions. In fact, your Uncle and Sir Everette both advised you to forget all you had read in books. Because there had never been victory without great loss.

And from the looks of things, your blood sacrifices were only just beginning.

“Prince Ivar!” Sir Everette declared angrily as your brother entered his dwelling. “With all due respect, I demand to know what you mean by all this rubbish! First, you unceremoniously remove me from my appointed station. Then, you have the gall to post your men about my tent. So since I am at a loss, please explain what I have done to deserve such treatment!”

“First, I suggest watching that tone, old man. Or my warriors will do far worse than simply posting themselves.”

Sir Everette could not keep from shaking his head in disappointment.

Though he had never fully trusted most of the Norsemen around you, he had come to respect many over time. But Ivar was never one of them. Because from the Knight Paladin’s could see, your brother was simply power hungry.

And that made him as dangerous as your Aunt, Jayne-Marie.

“If you truly want me to explain things……..” Ivar continued with a chuckle. “Ask nicely, and I might oblige.”

“Aye, you may be Princess Y/N’s relation, but I neither regard nor fear you. In fact, you are beneath my Queen in every way. So keep your stupid thoughts if you like. I shall not beg.”

Baffled by the response, Ivar’s eyes cut in Sir Everette’s direction. As he finally managed to sit upon the nearby table, he pondered throwing his axe at the trusted Knight. 

However, he was able to squelch those thoughts, choosing instead to extend the game.

“You are going far away.” Ivar declared, an amused smirk crossing his face. “And since you obviously dislike me, that should make you a happy man.”

“I shall go nowhere, lest Princess Y/N sends word. In case you have forgotten, I do not take my orders from you, Heathen.”

“But of course you do. Or have YOU forgotten that I am the Queen’s Hand? That means, I am her voice in abstentia.”

Sir Everette could say nothing more. Thus, he stared into the void that were your brother’s eyes. And even in that moment, he knew that he likely would not be seen again. Because there was nothing good to be found in Ivar’s gaze.

“I see your tongue has finally stilled, Sir Everette. Anyway, it was a pleasure having you serve under Ragnar’s command. And I am sure that my sister appreciated the years of service. However, from this day, you are officially dismissed.”

Ivar then motioned for his men to take the Knight away. As they did so, the proud man did not beg or ask for reconsideration. However, he curses your brother as he was forcibly dragged into the blackness of the evening.

“Over my dead body! Do you hear me?” Ragnar snapped as his pleasant smile turned to a scowl. “You will do no such thing!”

“You are being irrational.” Ubbe countered, his own resentment now rising. All had been well only moments before. But with him broaching the subject of naming his newborn daughter, things had gone awry. “In case you are unaware, I need no permission to bestow the name. In fact, the only reason I even brought it to your attention was due to mother’s insistence.”

Sat at the head table, Prince Aethelwulf, Judith, Lagertha and a few others tried to focus on the exotic belly dancers. However, it was a somewhat difficult since there was an argument brewing nearby.

“If you and that pig you call a wife even attempt it, I will strangle you both!” Ragnar declared. “It will never happen!”

As you were listening to Sigurd and Hvitserk debate the merits of foreign weaponry, Pippa tapped your shoulder. She then motioned to where your father and brother were, obviously in disagreement.

“Perhaps you should attempt to soothe things, Princess. It would be terrible if things got out of hand and you were shamed in front of our hosts.”

You sighed, wishing Lancille was at your side.

Because typically, such whispers came from him. But despite your concerns for his safety, Bjorn had reassured you. In fact, your eldest brother had men scouting for information already. And even Alfred dispatched some of his own to assist with the endeavor.

Thus, you resigned yourself to see to your father and Ubbe.

As soon as you attempted to stand, Bolverk was at your side. The massive Heathen had been miraculously observant ever since becoming your temporary Personal Guard. So much, you had slowly convinced him to give you glimpse into his life. Because one thing was for certain, he was an enigma. Even to his fellow Norsemen.

“Sister, where are you going?” Hvitserk asked with a crooked smile. “Is our conversation that much of a bore?”

“Not at all. I shall return momentarily.”

You were then escorted through the Great Hall by the ever vigilant Bolverk. The only thing you had to ask, every so often, was that he was not rough in clearing a path. Because despite his cautious ways with your person, the Berserker was pushy with everyone else.

“Father, I do not know what you two are discussing.” You said as you reached Ragnar’s side. Setting a hand to his arm, you looked between him and Ubbe. “But whatever it is, let us leave it for another time. Because people are starting to take notice.”

“Your brother is an idiot! He can never leave good enough alone.”

“Me? I only asked for permission to name my daughter Gyda.” Ubbe seethed. He then decided to ignore Ragnar, giving you his undivided attention. “And you know how he reacts, Y/N? He berates me.”

“I’ll do far worse if you go through with it.”

Fed up with the insults, Ubbe proclaimed that Ragnar had never been a decent parental figure. He then added that he was the worst father anyone could possibly have. Because not only did he make everyone feel unwanted, he had chained himself to the past.

“But take heart, I will find another name for my daughter. One that belongs to her alone. That way, she will never contend with the shadows you choose to live with.”

Ragnar’s arm jerked as he contemplated striking Ubbe. But fortunately, your presence kept him from doing so.

“Father, Ubbe, please stop cutting one another down.” You implored, looking at each of them. “Can we not behave as a family, even once?”

“Do not waste your breath, sister. Ragnar does not care for anyone but himself. My mother learned this truth long ago. And honestly, I no longer care about winning his regard either.”

Ubbe then pressed a soft kiss to your cheek before walking away. Obviously, you were highly disheartened by the situation. Because despite all his progress, Ragnar was making you question his affections. Not for you, but for Aslaug and your brothers.

“Father, do you truly love me?”

“Do not start, Birdie. You ask something you already know the answer to.”

“Then promise that you will hold a family discussion.” You said as your father’s intense eyes fell upon you own. “That way, we can sort things when all minds are sober.”

Despite wanting to refuse the request, Ragnar could deny you nothing. A weakness he had come to dislike about himself. Nevertheless, he quickly nodded before asking that you sit with him a while.

You found yourself tossing and turning after retiring to your chambers.

Though truly exhausted, it was your many thoughts that did not permit slumber. But ultimately, you drifted off with a book in hand. And you remained in a blissful dream state until a thunderous knock came upon the door.

“Princess Y/N.” A guards voice called out. “Forgive me for rousing your sleep. But Prince Aethelred insists on having words.”

You lay motionless a while as you attempted to shake of the grogginess. Obviously, you were perplexed as to why the Prince had decided to wake you. Especially since he had opportunity to speak to you in the Great Hall. Nevertheless, you curiosity got the best of you; thus you informed the Guard that you would see Aethelred. Adding that he should await you in the nearby Sewing Room.

After getting out of bed, you searched for a modest heavy robe. After all, there was no need for any tongues to start wagging with all that was going on. Once you found the garment that covered you best, you departed your chamber.

When you opened the door to the Sewing Room, Aethelred was standing nearest a window. However, he turned upon hearing the squeaking of the redwood.

“Y/N, thank you for giving me audience.”

The Prince then walked over, stopping at an appropriate distance. Though he wished to embrace you, his thoughts went to propriety. Not for his own sake, but rather your own.

“Aethelred. I did not have the opportunity to speak to you this evening. But I am glad to see that you are well.”

“Gratitude. I am……………also glad that you are in good health.”

His gaze then went to your heavily rounded belly. For Aethelred, it was difficult to not feel a bevy of conflicting thoughts. Because on one hand, he wanted your child to be delivered healthy. But on the other, he had also wished that it would have been lost already.

“So you are quite close to your time.”

“That I am.” You replied as you set your palms to the swell. “The Maesters say it will be within the next weeks. But I am certain that you did not wake me to speak of babies.”

With some reluctance, Aethelred broached the subject of Wessex and Mercia. Not in terms of casual matters, but rather about succession and Ecbert’s failing health. The latter being something you were quite unaware of.

“What do you mean?” You asked, brow raised distrustfully. Though you still held feelings for the Prince, his actions had led to your Uncle’s death. For that reason, trust was difficult to muster these days. “There is nothing wrong with him. In fact, he wrote not long ago to ask of my condition. And nowhere did he mention feeling unwell.”

“Of course he didn’t, Y/N. Do you expect a proud man like that to announce such a thing?” Aethelred countered. He then paced some more before setting his hands to the table. “Ecbert is redrafting his Declaration of Will. And from what I have been told, there is a major change that many think irrational.”

You eyed him, wondering why he had brought the situation to your attention. Because despite being Alfred’s wife, you had no desire to interfere in their royal affairs. In fact, you figured the only time you would need to address Wessex and Mercia, was after the birth of your child.

Because your heirs would require titles from both you, and Alfred. Thus, you informed Aethelred that you did not understand why you should be concerned about his family’s succession.

“Still, I appreciate you telling me of Ecbert’s health.” You added. “For I have grown fond of him and will pray in earnest. But as for whom will rule your kingdom, it not my place. And to be quite honest, I do not care.”

“But it DOES concern you! Because you are married to very man that has usurped my bloodline. A bastard conceived upon some dirty floor, now positions himself to seize the throne. That is why I have brought it to your attention!”

You swallowed hard, realizing that all the rumors had been true. The Saxon King did favor your husband in every way. All this despite Alfred being the product of betrayal. And not betrayal of just anyone, but his very own son.

Indeed, it was allot to consider at such a late hour.

“Aethelred, what do you expect of me? In case you have forgotten, I have my own kingdom to-----”

“Advise him to recuse himself, when the time comes!” The Prince interrupted. “Because though I have tolerated much, I have my limits. My entire life has been lived under the weight of Alfred’s massive shadow. But not this time. If he thinks he will ascend the throne of my ancestors, he is sadly mistaken.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” You asked as you stared Aethelred straight in the eye. Though you truly had no desire to be involved, you were carrying Alfred’s child. So if he were put in harm’s way, so would his heirs. “Are you laying out a threat to your brother through me?”

Without giving a direct response to your query, the Prince proclaimed that he would hold his position. And if that meant he and Alfred would eventually come to conflict, he would see things through.

“I will not bend to him, Y/N. Be sure to tell him that.”

“No! Tell him yourself, if you are so keen.” You fumed. All night, your thoughts had been taken by worries of Lancille. That, and the many other War related issues. Thus, you were utterly fed up with being pulled in every direction. “And the next time you wish to deliver a message, find a Royal Page or Attendant. I am a Monarch in my own right! Not some slave to you, Alfred or anyone else! Good evening!”

You were so incensed, that upon reaching your chambers, you threw a vase against the wall.

Poor King Garrat, the piece had been gifted to his Great Grandmother from an affluent Sheik. But you had shattered the delicate heirloom out of pure rage. After making your mind to tell your host of your actions in the morning, you returned to bed. And fortunately, sleep came quickly, despite your moodiness.

A short time later, you felt the bed sink and an arm go about your person.

“No need wake, Y/N.” Alfred whispered as he noticed you shifting under his embrace. “I found myself unable to sleep without you.”

As Sir Mansfeld sat lazily peeling an apple with his favored dagger, his father stormed under the canopy.

“There you are!” The elder Knight roared, his tone startling the nearby servant girls. “Had you not been my son, I would skin you alive and be done with it!”

With a bewildered expression, the young man asked why he was in such a mood. Especially since he had acquired a token that would restore favor to their Great House.

“Do you know what you have done?” Sir Grimley asked, his expression one of gravity. “Not only did you go behind my back, but you overstepped the Chain of Command. That is not how any Knight of valor behaves.”

“Father, please. Let us forego talk of valor and all the rest of that stupidity. Because from what I can see, none of it has restored our fortune and standing.”

With a shake of the head, his father declared him a fool. And not just any type of fool, but one that was doomed to hang by his own rope. After barking for a servant to give him wine, Sir Grimley reminded his son that he was neither a Paladin nor Commander.

In fact, he was serving underneath Sir Ronan; a man three years his junior.

“Go ahead. Remind me of my failings. But I will have you know that Lancille’s capture will fetch the accolades I deserve. You have no inclination of my numerous ambitions. Perhaps if you took the time to ask, I would tell you.”

“Rubbish!” Sir Grimley replied before spitting on the ground. “I have no need to drive myself mad with your fantasies. You always speak a multitude of words that lead nowhere!”

Though offended, Sir Mansfeld kept his composure. For one thing he wanted more than anything, was to impress his father. Thus, he walked to the nearby tree where Lancille was positioned. There, your poor Guard sat, bound at the hands and feet with a sack over his head.

As the young Knight gloated over his cousin, Sir Ronan and Boris appeared. Both men greeted Sir Grimley out of respect before going silent again.

“Are you not going to at least congratulate me on acquiring our prisoner?” Sir Mansfeld asked as pointed at Lancille. “I have killed two birds with one stone. First, resolving your longstanding grudge against your brother’s family. All while possessing a prisoner for our King.”

“You truly are stupid.” Sir Grimley declared as he poured the remnants of his wine onto the grass. “My late brother and I had disagreements that were our own. So you have done nothing by seizing your cousin. King Dorian will not show favor nor give you reward. He will simply murder him like he did Sir Alcanore. So the only thing you have done, is put us in peril. Because when that transpires, everyone will turn against our House.”

With that, the elder Knight tossed his chalice to the ground and stormed off to the War Room. 

As for Sir Ronan, he bent down to examine Lancille. Though they had never crossed paths before the War, he had heard great things of your Personal Guard. Not only about him being an accomplished young warrior, but of his valor and loyalty.

Traits that Sir Ronan now realized was lacking in some under his command.

Whilst composing a letter to the family, Ecbert ran a hand over his face.

Though he knew his decision would cause untold conflict in the future, the wise King was resolute. In fact, he had never been more certain of a decision in his life. Indeed, Aethelred was his only legitimate grandchild, the blood of many great Saxons coursing through his veins. However, that did not mean the boy was meant to rule.

Especially during such perilous times when expansion was vital for survival.

“Do you suppose Alfred will accept?” Pope Leo IV asked as he looked up from the finalized Proclamation of Will. “Though he will be honored, we both know him to be exceptionally principled. Thus, I expect that he will be conflicted.”

“I have predicted that as well. For that reason, I shall appeal to his sense of duty and family. Something Aethelred knowns nothing about.” Ecbert replied thoughtfully. “And with Y/N soon to deliver, he will surely have his thoughts upon the future.”

“Praise God for that.” The Pope replied. “The Holy Catholic Church wants nothing more than to see our host nations rise. So what is good for Wessex and Mercia, is good Christians everywhere.”

“Aye, your Holiness. That is something we can both drink to.”

It took some doing, but you managed to get Ragnar and Ubbe to end their war of silence. And after pushing them further, you got them to agree upon a date for your niece’s Naming Ceremony. Thus, the rites were performed only a few days later. Making her officially known to the world as, Thyri Ubbedottir.

As you sat underneath a canopy nursing a cup of honeyed milk, Bjorn kept to your side. Naturally, the Heathen ceremony was somewhat peculiar in the eyes of your Christian hosts. However, King Garrat and Queen Giselle proved themselves quite tolerant. 

Because not only did they permit the ceremony to be performed within their castle walls, they attended with their courtiers.

“I cannot wait for this baby to arrive.” You declared as you ran a hand over your belly. “He refuses to sit still and has been kicking me nonstop. And I have fed him properly all day.”

“If he’s anything like Hvitserk, you are in trouble.” Bjorn replied as he chewed some meat.

Though you felt physically well, your mind was not at rest. Because despite reassurances, Lancille was ever present in your thoughts. However, you had to force yourself to enjoy the family event. Because one thing was clear. Time was not promised to anyone.

Thus, you did your best to live in the moment.

“Cousin, you look like an ant that has swallowed a grape.” Armin declared. After sitting beside you, he palmed your belly. “Are you certain there is not more than one baby in there?”

“Oh, this is delightful. I missed you all this while, only to have you return speaking like my mother-in-law.”

With a chuckle, Bjorn informed you that your cousin had a point. For you did appear somewhat larger than what he was accustomed to. In fact, he too felt that you were likely carrying more than one.

“I’m glad you are both eager to see me mothering more than one child. At least I know who their caregivers will be.”

Bjorn eyed you with amusement as Armin laughed. 

Neither man eager to look after a baby for extended periods of time. Not long after, Alfred approached, finally tearing himself away from Ragnar and his father. With a pleasant smile, the Prince greeted you before snapping in Rimidle’s direction.

“Mother said you should partake of these.” He added as the young woman handed you a platter of fruits selected by Judith herself. “She said they’re known to ease nausea.”

“Alfie, sit.” You commanded, tired of him avoiding you.

For whatever reason, the Prince was obviously nervous about your condition. Thus, he had resigned himself to numerous duties and anything else to keep him distracted. But not at this event. You were determined to make Alfred keep you company. Even if it was by force.

“I will see you later, sister.” Bjorn said as he and Armin rose to their feet.

Your brother and cousin then departed, leaving you with your husband.

“Alfie, why do you avoid touching my belly?” You asked before leaning against his shoulder. As you did so, Rimilde could not keep from rolling her eyes. Something quite unbecoming of a servant. “You only did so on your first night back.”

“I suppose you are owed an explanation.” The Prince replied, his cheeks turning a rosy hue. “For you see, I am only keeping to the promise I made.”

Alfred spoke the truthfully. Because prior to your vows, you made it abundantly clear that was no romantic love between you. Yet, the passage of time had changed several things in your life. And that included your feelings towards him.

“I know I’m not the easiest person to live with. However, you are the father of my child.” You replied as you snuggled against him. “I need to know you feel something about my condition. Even if it is the smallest gesture.”

Alfred’s eyes fell upon your own, the blue of them taking in your every feature. Even without saying a word, you could see how much the Prince adored you. Something that brought great comfort. Because truth be told, you found yourself becoming paranoid with each passing day.

After putting an arm around you, Alfred kept staring as a gentle breeze washed over the two of you. Indeed, it was as if everyone gathered in the Courtyard were miles away. Because you felt secure in the arms of your husband. Knowing he would never abandon nor betray you.

“Your Highness, will you not have your meal now?” Rimilde interrupted.

Irritated by the unnecessary query, Alfred’s brow furrowed.  

“As I have said before, when I am prepared to eat, I shall give the command. Now depart with the others until you are called for.”

With a curtsy, the pretty servant girl apologized She then departed, making her way towards the kitchen. But as she did so, Princess Luciya watched her a while. Your sister-in-law then looked at Aslaug and Judith, announcing that she disliked Rimilde.

“That girl does not know her place.” Luciya said. “Not only did I catch her sneaking about Prince Alfred’s passageway, she eyes Princess Y/N inappropriately. Were it my place to dismiss Saxon Attendants, she would be gone already.”

Naturally, the words struck Judith more than Aslaug. Because despite her initial wish for Alfred to take a Mistress, such behavior could not be tolerated. Even if the Prince had taken Rimilde for a lover, she would still have to show you respect.

For that reason, your mother-in-law began to ponder a solution.

“I am glad you brought her conduct to my attention, Luciya.” Judith said. I shall rectify things straightaway.”

Sat upon his elaborate golden throne, Dorian smiled as Queen Valentina took her place.

Within her arms was their son, Arwyn-Maximiliano Marfont II. The nine-month-old had been Christened for the second time earlier that day. Because the War had caused him to miss the first ceremony. Being who he was, your cousin requested that an Archbishop perform the honors again.

So after gifting a great amount of coin to the Holy Roman Church, his wish was granted.

“You are in a good mood today.” Valentina noted as she cradled Arwyn. “Why is that?”

“My darling wife. You speak as if I am usually some type of ghoul.”

Despite laughing at his assertion, the young woman was concerned. Because Dorian only behaved gleefully when some plot was afoot. For that reason, she suspected that his mood had something to do with you.

And she was indeed correct. Because not even a second later, a Royal Page announced the arrival of the King’s personal Guard. As the massive warrior entered with his retinue, he pushed a little boy forward. 

Since he appeared to be no more than eight years of age, it was unsurprising when the child hesitated.

“Greet your King, boy.” Renfry the Black commanded. “Or would you like me to box your ears?”

Irritated by the threat, Queen Valentina looked at Dorian. Naturally, your cousin aimed to please his wife. For that reason, he raised a hand.

“There is no need to abuse the child.” He declared as he rose from his throne. With a smile, he then looked at the boy. “Tell me, little one. Do you know who I am?”

With a nod, the boy courteously declared that he was the King of Arundel. A response that garnered giggles and chuckles from all those in the Great Hall. Pleased that the child had at least been reared well, Dorian asked if he knew why he was there.

“I do not know, your Majesty.”

“Well, what if I told you that your mother and I are good friends. And that she has been wanting to reunite with you for good?”

The boy’s eyes doubled in size. For despite being raised by warm-hearted Caregivers, he knew of his mother. The one that lived in foreign lands and worked to provide him a better life.

“Will I see her today, my King?”

“Not today, Zoran. However, you shall reside within these castle walls until that day comes.” Dorian replied, putting a hand to the boy’s shoulder. “And that day will be soon. Of that, I can assure you.”

You paced the floor of King Garrat’s private Library, awaiting Ivar’s arrival.

Though he had passed through the Trudig encampments for longer than expected, your brother had finally arrived at the castle. Thus, you asked to have word as soon as he was done having his bath and food. But despite your attempts to remain calm, you felt on the verge of a tirade.

“Sister, please think of the baby.” Hvitserk advised from where he was sat by the fireplace. “Compose yourself, because we will resolve everything.”

You nodded despite still feeling as if you would explode. Because only moments prior, an Aruyan Messenger delivered news that Sir Everette had disappeared. Thus, two of the people that you cared for most, were now unaccounted for.

And if that was not bad enough, the Messenger also stated that Ivar had relieved the Knight of his duties. Something that was done without your permission or directive.

“Y/N.” Ivar proclaimed with a great smile upon his face. As he moved upon his crutch, it took all your resolve not to slap him. “I have missed you.”

“Oh?” You snapped, unable to feign any civility. “Have you?”

With raised brow, Ivar looked to Hvitserk before giving you his attention again. He then asked if you had not received enough rest. Because according to him, you were behaving like an unhinged person.

“I am indeed deranged!” You replied matter-of-factly. “And perhaps, it is how I should be at all times. Because apparently, that is the only way to get anyone’s attention.”

“If you have something to say, just say it. Because I don’t know what you’re rambling about.”

“Ivar, she was told that you dismissed Sir Everette from his duties. No matter your title, it’s not your place to restructure her Armies. That’s Ragnar’s decision to make.”

“Hvitty, shut your mouth! This is between Y/N and I. Why are you even here?”

You promptly informed him that you asked Hvitserk to be present. Because truth be told, you needed someone to keep you from going berserk. Angered that you wished to speak to him with someone else nearby, Ivar repositioned his crutch.

“We shall speak when you are in control of your emotions, Y/N.” He declared with a shrug. “Nothing good will come of us arguing.”

You wanted to pull your hair out. Why Ivar had to behave as he did, you did not know. However, you had to get out of his presence, or risk saying something improper. So instead of pressing the matter, departed the Library in haste.

“You really confuse me.” Hvitserk said as he confronted the raven-haired Ragnarsson. “You are bestowed trust, only to use it as an opportunity to assert dominance. These armies, ships and allies are Y/N’s. Not yours!”

“Are you done running your mouth now?”

With a stern expression, Hvitserk agreed to leave the matter for the time being. However, he promised that he would get involved in helping you find your men. Adding that you deserved more respect than was being shown.

“One last thing, Ivar. If anything happens to Sir Everette, it will surely cause our sister pain. And if that occurs, I will see you pay for it.”

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