#i would be so easily coerced if some lady-looking thing came up to me and showed me all her needle teeth and long eyelashes

[thatweirdoleigh]

Socks (but i finish the fic)

Elijah Mikaelson x reader

Warnings; Eli’s a good husband, and the reader cries oh yeah and reader’s pregnant

a/n ; Here is the full thing!! Cause its cute and for once i actually like the thing that i made. 

Imma tag the people i think will enjoy this.

My moms  @elijahs-wife​ @hellotvshowtrash

The Murder aunts; @mikaelson-emma​ @dumble-daddy​

Other Family Members that i don’t really talk to but love and appreciate anyway!;  @xxwritemeastoryxx​  @ronniemikaelson​ @lady-salvatore @thatfanficstuff @zodiyack @auroracalisto​ @dizzydancingdreamer​ @imaginearyparties​ @alwaysfangirlingish​ 

The giggles of his sisters echoed through the halls and into the entry way as Elijah opened the front door and stepped into his family home. Hope’s laughter and the laughter of his brothers and their wives joining shortly after. Rebekah was telling stories again, of all the mishaps, mistakes and schemes from over the centuries. It made him smile. Today was a good day.

After everything that had happened over the centuries, particularly the past several decades, it seemed like a dream come true to finally feel like a family again. To feel the same humble happiness that they felt when they were all still human. Like touching the stars with their bare hands. So he savored the memories and the joy and the rest that it brought to himself and those he cared so dearly for.

Walking into the parlor he was greeted by the warm welcomes of his family.

“Brother!” Klaus, all but beamed, “Welcome home!” A chorus of welcome home and welcome back echoed behind him.

Elijah grinned, wholeheartedly approving of the laid back posture of his younger brother, his arm slung over the back of the couch behind the witch that Klaus had fallen in love with. It was a stark contrast to the rage and paranoia that plagued him for so many years. “Its good to be home!”

“How was your meeting with the contractor brother?” Finn queried, far more subdued than the others. Even though they had all forgiven him, and profusely apologized for 1000 years of pain, Finn still didn’t feel like he quite belonged with the rest of his family. A fact Elijah had been eager to fix once the realization had set in of exactly how shitty their treatment of him was. Courtesy of Camille, of course. However 900 years in a coffin is not forgotten overnight, so it was still a work in progress. So it further proved to warm Elijah’s heart when his eyes laid upon Finn and found him squished between Freya and Kol’s firecracker of a fiancé, instead of locked in his room.

Elijah smiled at Finn and placed his suit jacket over the back of an unoccupied chair, “It was good. We got all of the final details and planning done and now its we are just waiting for the town to give us a building permit”

“that’s good” Finn replied with a nod.

For context, Y/n was pregnant with Elijah’s child, a miracle given in the form of a spell cast as a wedding gift and created by Kol and Klaus’ wife. Y/n had all but declared that she wanted their children to have as normal lives as physically possible and while the Mikaelsons were hesitant to go along with this plan, it was agreed that perhaps living in a mansion with 4 witches, 6 vampires, and 3 hybrids was not a normal childhood. So it was agreed that they would own a separate family home to raise their children in while still visiting as often as physically possible.

As Elijah looked around and took in the the scene around him he noticed that y/n was not among his siblings and so begged the question as to where was his darling wife?

“If I may ask, where is y/n?”

It was Kol’s fiancé that pipped up. “She came rushing in with a bag, declared that she was going to enjoy her new socks and then she was taking a nap, You know how my twin is Elijah, she gets excited over the simplest things, and then she ran upstairs without another word. Imagine she is asleep by now. Probably has been for a while. ”

Elijah smiled and Keelin looked at her curiously, ”Socks?”

Elijah cleared her confusion “Yes Keelin. Socks. Its seems that my darling wife has developed an affinity for collecting and wearing the most colorful knee-high socks she can find”

“It is rather amusing to watch auntie y/ns excitement.” Hope testified from where she had tucked herself under her father’s other arm. “She rambled on about a pair she had found with neon green strips, all while eating a plate of bacon in the kitchen the other day”

Everyone laughed at the image, and Elijah just shook his head with mirth in his eyes, ”yes well, if you don’t mind I am going to join my wife and unborn child in bed. Goodnight to you all” and a chorus of goodnights followed him down the hall.

As Elijah climbed the stairs he couldn’t help but be reminded of how grateful of all of the things that life has granted him over the years. He had a beautiful wife that loved him and siblings that adored him and soon he would have children of his own.

As Elijah approached the door to his bedroom he couldn’t help but notice something was wrong. Stopping to listen he could hear sniffling and shaky breathes just beyond the door way.

“y/n?” he took the handle and pushed the door open.

There sitting in an armchair in the corner of their room was y/n. She was wearing one of Elijah’s Cambridge sweatshirts and a pair of his boxers. The sweatshirt was cream in color and it matched cream colored socks she held in her hand. While Elijah would normally fawn over how adorable she looked round with his child and dressed in his clothes he was more focused on the tears stains that and puffy red eyes that decorated the face of the love of his life.

Elijah was quick to kneel in front of her and cup her face in his hand “Y/n? Baby what’s wrong? Are you alright?” He placed his other hand on her belly and searched for some kind of injury to suggest that she was hurt.  

She looked at him with a watery smile, kissed his hand and said “I found a pair of socks that would match my favorite one of your sweatshirts and I got so excited to wear them.”

She held up the socks and gestured to her feet. “But I cant reach, so I cant put them on. And it made me so sad that I cried.”

Elijah’s face relaxed and he gave a sigh of relief, realizing it was something simple that he could easily fix. So he gently took the socks from her hands and unfolded them so he could put them on her. He rolled them up and then pulled them all the way up her legs to just below her knees and then gave a kiss to her nose. “there “ he whispered. “all better.”

“thank you ‘lijah.” She mumbled and then yawned.

“Oh. I think its bedtime.” He stated playfully.

“Im pregnant not two.” She grumbled with another yawn.

Elijah looked at her with nothing but adoration and said “baby you just cried over a pair of socks.” In response she pouted and Elijah couldn’t help but smile. 

“Alrighty. Bedtime!” He said scooping her up bridal-style. 

“you can’t be serious!” y/n scoffed. 

“Dead serious!” 

“Eli!” she whined, “don’t make puns when im annoyed at you! Then I can’t enjoy them!” 

Elijah only laughed, and then slowly spun her around in a circle. “wheeeeeee!” he said before gently tossing her on the bed. 

y/n looked up at her husband in exasperation as she watched him use vampire speed to strip to his underwear and climb onto the bed like a leopard on the prowl.  

“I love you.” he purred pressing a kiss to her swollen belly, eyes playfully looking up at her. 

She raised an eyebrow, “Me? Or your children?”. 

“Both” he replied, gently coercing her backwards onto the bed as he crawled farther up her body his hands rubbing circles into the sides of her stomach. y/n rolled her eyes and chuckled her amusement as he enveloped her in another kiss. 

Sighing happily y/n ran her hands through Elijah’s hair, as he eagerly deepened the kiss. However Elijah had to stop this blissful moment rather short. 

He furrowed his brow and pulled back slightly so he could see his wife’s eyes, “Children?” he questioned. “plural?” 

Now it was y/n’s turn to grin playfully. 

“I went to the doctors today.” She said eyes twinkling with mischief. “And i learned something rather interesting.”  

Elijah narrowed his eyes, recognizing that she was toying with him. “did you now?” 

“I did” she purred rubbing her hands down his neck and shoulders. “Apparently twins are not always magical miracle coincidences. More often than not they are genetic.” and as her smile grew bigger so did Elijah’s. “And considering that I am half of a set, I’d say the trait has passed on.” 

Elijah’s grinn was getting bigger by the second. “you mean to tell me. That not only am I getting one daughter.” he leaned in closer until their noses were touching. “I’m getting two?” 

“yes” she whispered seductively and elijah expressed his joy by kissing her again. 

“And do you wanna know what else I learned?” y/n said slyly as he trailed his kisses down her throat. He grunted quietly for her to continue and y/n leaned up and murmured in his ear, “Both of your ‘daughters’ are sons” 

Elijah groaned and pulled back up to her face, “damn. I was really hoping was really hoping for a mini you.” he admitted swallowing y/ns laughter in another kiss. 

Y/n pulled him to lay beside her as they both got under the duvet and settled comfortably for bed. y/n lay on her side facing Elijah and he buried his face in her hair his hands finding their way to her rounded abdomen, joyful and excited to meet his children in the nearby future. 

“Eli?” she said softly. “will you sing to me?” she asked looking up at him. 

“Of course, My love” and so Elijah sang the same nordic lullaby his mother taught him all those years ago and they both drifted off to sleep. 

#elijah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah x reader #elijah mikaelson fluff #elijah mikaelson x happiness #queue have my word #airamas writes a fic #elijah mikealson x reader #leigh wrote a fic

[thenovelartist]

A Blanc Slate, Chapter 3

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7. Secrets

Oh how the dirty laundry was hung out to dry in the week after the Agreste Mansion fire.

Apparently, the corpse of Gabriel Agreste’s wife was kept preserved underneath the mansion. Which, of course, brought on all the questions of how and why she was there, followed by questions pertaining to Gabriel Agreste’s sanity and even more questions as to why he did it.

Unfortunately, the only person who knew was dead.

Early reports said that it was likely he suffocated in the fire. However, the coroner’s report came out recently saying that there was evidence of an altercation: a fractured arm, a few broken ribs, and a cracked skull. Due to the autopsy report, it was suspected Gabriel was dead before the fire broke out. However, with the crime scene as they knew it had been burned to the ground, along with any clues that could have lead to a more solid answer.

Marinette, Alya, and Nino had done everything they could to reach out to Adrien, but he refused. “Sorry, I just need some time,” was his go-to excuse. His other being, “I’m not feeling great.”

Nino hated it, but he still wanted to be a bro and respect Adrien’s wishes. Alya would have had no problem going over, busting down the door, and forcing a check-in, but Nino kept his girlfriend in check.

Egged on by Alya behind the scenes, Marinette decided that she was going to do that.

Well… maybe minus the “breaking down the door” part. She’d just insistently knock.

With a bag full of baked goods and a container of soup, she headed over. She’d been experimenting with this soup for his birthday, trying to replicate a recipe from his favorite café to surprise him with. But she thought now would be a good time to share it with him. Chat had even given it a good mark in his own way, so she was sure it would make Adrien happy.

Upon arriving at his new place—the address had been the one thing she’d been able to drag out of Nino—she knocked a couple times before waiting. When he didn’t answer, she knocked again. If he didn’t answer after this one, she’d give him a call.

However, she heard the lock on the door click and put on her best smile. “Hey, Adri—Oh, my gosh, how’d you get that black eye?!”

The expression he gave her clearly stated he didn’t want to talk about it while also regretting worrying her. “Don’t tell Nino. Or Alya. Please.”

“What happened, though!”

His lips pursed, curling downwards at the edges. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

She nearly stamped her foot on the ground because that made two of the most important men in her life who refused to let her in. However, she couldn’t force anything. Instead, she asked, “Are you okay?”

He opened his mouth, but words seemed to catch in his throat for a moment. “I will be.”

“Adrien.”

With a sigh, he reached out to pat her head. “I appreciate that you care, Marinette,” he began. “But really, don’t worry about it, okay?”

She didn’t want to give him time. She wanted to fix it. She wanted to be able to do something, anything, for her boys. But she couldn’t if they kept keeping secrets like this.

With a sigh, she relented, unable to do anything else. “Okay.”

He stroked her hair, and if she wasn’t so damn worried, her heart might have fluttered at the action. “Thank you,” he said before pulling his hand away. “So, was that the only reason you came by? To check in on me?”

“It was either me or Alya.”

His smile was sheepish. “I’d rather have you. Alya scares me.”

His grin seemed weary, but it was still enough to put Marinette at ease and a smile on her own face. “She’s pretty pissed. Nino’s also really worried about you. Maybe you should give him a call.”

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, and only then did she realize the hand he’d been so good at hiding behind the door this whole time was wrapped heavily in bandages

“Adrien!”

He jumped at her voice, taking a step back, but Marinette was quick. She grabbed his arm before he could hide it again. “How’d you get this? Oh, wait, ‘you don’t want to talk about it’?”

He groaned. “I got into a little argument with my dad last week, came home and hit the wall. I don’t think I broke anything, but it still hurts.”

Marinette sighed. “Damn it, Adrien. Why didn’t you tell us? We could have been there to support you.”

Adrien turned his head away, refusing to look at her. “I… I just needed some time alone, okay? There was a lot on my mind. Please, just drop it.”

“Okay,” she caved. He was already talking with her now, as opposed to pushing her away again, so she would meet him halfway and stop arguing. “Do you want a croissant? Maybe some soup? Or you’ve got a sweet tooth. Maybe a cookie?”

Adrien looked somewhat surprised by the change of subject, but soon, he relaxed in relief. “I wouldn’t mind a cookie.”

She gave him a smile, one she had to force a bit to be brighter than it was. “Okay. I thought you would.”

8. Princess and Knight

The knock on her balcony door could only be one person.

Rather, one cat.

With a grin, Marinette rushed to answer her trap door. “Chat Noir. How nice of you to come see me.”

He looked rather stoic. “I’m not ‘Noir’ anymore.”

“You’ll always be Chat Noir,” she gently countered. “You just happen to look a little different at the moment.”

He sighed, clearly not wanting to continue their conversation. He then handed the bag in his hand over to her. “Here. The clothes you leant me. Washed and clean. And a little extra ‘thank you’ gift for your kindness before.”

“Oh,” she said, looking at the bag. “Thank you, but you didn’t have to get me anything.”

Chat just shrugged.

Looking at the bag, Marinette hesitated to take it. She had wondered if Chat would appear before her or if he’d just drop the bag and run. Now, she feared he’d bolt the moment she took the bag from his hand, and that was the last thing she wanted.

Impulsively, she reached past the bag to grab hold of his wrist. “Come inside for a minute. Let me get you some cookies for the road.”

His brow scrunched together, showing his hesitancy.

She shot him her best smile, going as far as batting her eyes at him, a technique her friends had forced her to learn a few years ago in an attempt to get Adrien’s attention. “Please, Chat? I’m sure you’d like a treat?”

He sighed. “Thank you, princess, but I’ll decline.”

“Aww, really? I can’t convince you to stay a moment?”

“No.”

“Wow. That was cold.”

Chat stood, trying to remove her hand from his, and though he was trying to be firm, he wasn’t being overly forceful. “I came to thank you, not to linger on your kindness any more.”

“But what if I want you to linger in my kindness.”

He scoffed. “Why would you bother?”

“Because I care about you?”

“You barely know me.”

Oh, kitty, I know you better than you could fathom. “So?”

“So, I took advantage of your kindness once—”

“Do it again.”

The words that came so easily out of her mouth had clearly startled him. Frankly, they surprised her a little, too, but those words also allowed her a moment to crawl fully out of the hatch and stand right before him. “I don’t mind. In fact, I want to.”

Chat looked at her, exhaustion lingering behind the stoniness in his eyes. “Princess, you’re killing me here.”

She tightened her grip, leaning closer. “Good. Maybe I can offer you a little break away from your world.”

“Who said I needed one?”

“You’re still white, and you’re not in a signature smile. I dare you to tell me I’m wrong.”

His brow furrowed, eyes hardening, yet he didn’t pull away.

And she wasn’t going to surrender, either.

The stare down lasted a good many seconds, neither moving or backing down.

“Are you trying to seduce me, princess?” he eventually asked, the slightest edge of teasing in his tone while the corner of his lips quirked upwards.

Her heart could soar at the sight. “So what if I am?”

He flashed her a fake roguish grin, leaning closer in what she quickly realized was an attempt to coax her backwards. “I’d say there’s only room for one flirt in this town, and it sure won’t be you.”

She stood her ground, knowing that if she wasn’t careful, she’d fall right through her trapdoor. Which was likely his plan and why he’d just started flirting. She knew him too well by now to know his flirting was a cover-up. Always had been, and always would be.

That didn’t mean he couldn’t also wreck her heart when he stopped the flirting and pulled a genuine romantic gesture. It always wrecked her heart when he stood with his heart bared to her. And maybe over time, those gestures built up love for him in her own heart. And maybe that’s why she stood here so adamantly now, unwilling to let him go.

“Oh?” she flirted back, trying to channel her ‘inner Chat’. “How would you know? Maybe I’m better.”

“I doubt that. This cat has worked hard and purr-fecting his technique to make the ladies swoon.”

She hummed. “You pull out all the stops on Ladybug, don’t you?”

It was as though she’d doused him with cold water, because all teasing disappeared in an instant.

Her regret level was high, but at the same time, she wasn’t even sure what she’d said to change the mood so fast. “Chat?”

He sighed, pulling away and shaking his head. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s clearly not nothing,” she countered.

“It is,” he firmly stated. “And don’t think otherwise.”

Biting her lip, Marinette wracked her brain for how to possibly coerce him into talking. “Something wrong with Ladybug?” she asked, reaching out to grab his other hand. “Because I haven’t see—”

“Ahh!”

In a flash, Chat ripped both his hands from hers and cradled his left hand close to his chest.

Her gut sank. “You’re hurt?”

He grit his teeth. “I’m fine.”

“Liar.”

His ears sank in shame for a moment. “Let it go, Marinette,” he snipped, already taking steps backwards and away. “I’m fine.”

“You’re clearly not. What happ—”

“Does it get tiring?”

His eyes took on a hard edge to them, and that was the moment she knew she screwed up. “What?”

“Trying to weasel into my business,” he challenged.

“How was I weaseling?”

“I’m a grown man. I don’t need you mothering me.”

“Well, I wouldn’t if you weren’t hurt.”

The moment those words left her mouth, Marinette regretted it. Instead, her consequence was watching Chat’s expression harden, eyes glinting like the edge of a knife.

“Who do you think you are?”

She flinched at the harshness of his tone.

“You’re not Ladybug,” he hissed. “We barely know each other. Why are you so damn worked up over me getting hurt?”

Because I am your lady, dammit! But she couldn’t say that. And without that, she wasn’t fully sure what to say. “Can’t I care about you at all without my motives being questioned?”

“I don’t need your help, Marinette!” he shouted. “So, stop trying to fix things and let me take care of my own business! You don’t have any idea what I’m facing—"

“Of course I don’t! You know why?” Marinette felt something snap in her at his words, and her own feelings came tumbling out before she could stop them. “Because you’re a knight with a martyr complex who thinks he has to bear the weight of the world alone on his own shoulders. I’m no princess, Chat, and neither is Ladybug. So why is it impossible for you to let either of us help you? Do you not trust Ladybug to help you? Do you think she’s incapable? Do you hate working with her that much?”

“I love her more than you could ever imagine!” he shouted, shocking her so badly she had to take a step back to steady herself. “She is incredibly strong and capable, and don’t you dare do her the injustice of stating otherwise. But that is exactly why I’m keeping her out of this. What I’m facing is personal, and it’s something I need to do on my own. You wouldn’t understand and don’t even try to. You’re an outsider here, Marinette. Stop trying to pretend you’re the superhero here and micro-manage everything about someone you don’t even know!”

And with that, Chat whipped out his baton, and Marinette was left watching a white ghost float over the rooftops of Paris, further and further away until he finally disappeared.

9. Blanket

The night wasn’t chilly, but she still had a blanket draped over her shoulders as she stood out on her balcony. It had been a week since the little altercation between her and Chat, and she regretted so many things she said and how she handled the whole situation.

Chat was hurting, and while she had been prying, she’d also gone against his wishes to do so. He had shut himself off, and instead of just being a safe spot he could land with no questions asked, she’d pushed and pressed and prodded any way she could to get information out of him. In her defense, she had only wanted to help as well as try to keep her cat around so he wouldn’t run again.

But a trapped cat doesn’t submit easily, she supposed. Especially one with as much fight in them as Chat Noir had.

So, she wanted to apologize, even though she knew it was unlikely he’d come around again. And who knew if she’d see him again. He said he’d see Ladybug at least one more time to give up his miraculous, but she didn’t want to wait until then to see him again. Though, the longer she stood out here on the balcony with no sign of Chat on the horizon at all, she thought that might be her only chance.

If it was, then she had to be careful not to squander it. Let this be her lesson, and let it be her only one because she really couldn’t afford to make a mistake on her last chance.

“Marinette,” Tikki said, flying up to rest on her shoulder. “It’s past midnight. You should really come inside and go to bed.”

She didn’t want to, but there really wasn’t any other choice. Chat wasn’t coming, and she knew it. “Okay.”

#miraculous ladybug #marichatmay2021 #marichat #chat blanc #more angst #bear with me #it will get better

[mrsalwayswrite]

Little Lady (Bull Randleman x Reader)

So this is based on this post by @problematicfavesareproblematic​ and my own headcannon that Bull is super chill in his relationship and doesn’t get jealous easily but will go from cuddly teddy bear to terminator in a hot second if someone hurts his girl...and this was an excuse to write some Bull & Martin friendship. 

Warnings: swearing, forced/coerced kiss, threats

Words:4400

Tag List: @happyveday​ @evelynshelby​ @saritanotserena​ @sydney-m​

"I can do it."

 "I don't mind helping."

 I rolled my eyes at Arthur but handed him the crate. "Fine, but if you drop it, I'm gonna kick your ass."

 He laughed, falling into step with me as we headed towards the supply trucks. "I would suspect nothing less from someone as fierce as you."

 "I can't decide if you're flirting or trying to start a fight." I narrowed my eyes at him, even as we walked side by side. 

 "Oh, I would never fight you...you'd kick my ass, remember?" He winked those baby blues at me, the scar on his upper lip twitching at the movement. 

 "Mmm...so you're flirting?"

 "Why? Is that a crime?"

 I sighed. This was not the first time we had this discussion and honestly, I was getting sick of it. "Arthur, you know Sergeant Randleman is my man."

 "I know. I don't know what you see in him though.  He just looks like a country hick and I..."

 "Stop," I interrupted, already knowing what he was going to say. Some flirting was fine but when someone began to question my relationship or degrade my boyfriend, then I took offense. Especially from someone I considered a friend. "We've had this discussion before and it won't change anything."

 "Fine, I just..."

 "Jesus Christ! Enough!"

 "Ok ok, shit. I'm sorry. I just want you to be happy, alright?" He mumbled. A couple minutes passed between us in a tense, awkward silence as we continued walking before he bumped me cheekily. "So, he's your man? You're not his girl?"

 "Damn right he's my man. I'm no one's girl."

 Arthur laughed and followed me to the trucks. He shoved the crate on the flatbed of the one directed too. I adjusted the other crates, making room for the ones I still needed to grab eventually. We were supposedly leaving Aldbourne soon and I had volunteered to organize our extra supplies. I liked keeping busy and being organized came easy to me. 

 Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him run his hand through his black hair, a nervous habit of his I had noticed. Soon he probably would need to get it cut. I wondered if someone in his company cut hair or if I should mention Liebgott to him. I bet for a pack of smokes Liebgott would cut it.

 His voice jolted me back from my musings as he took a step closer to me. "Some of us are going out for drinks tonight at the bar. Come join us."

 "They call them pubs here. Remember, we're in England."

 "Pubs, right. So... you coming?"

 I sighed, trying to figure out how I could nicely say no. Again. Most of the other companies did not like having a female paratrooper amongst them. More than one had gotten in my face about it, especially back in Toccoa. Now it just made sense for me to stick with Easy. 

 Arthur was one of the few exceptions. We had bumped into each other on the troopship over and next thing I knew we had been talking for hours, comparing different books, plays and films. His family was a huge advocate for the arts and it showed in his passionate rants. He also had an easy-going, if flirtatious, manner about him, always trying to make me laugh and check up on me whenever we saw each other. Though lately, he had begun making his intentions known and while flattering, I only saw him as a friend. 

 Before I could let him down again, he was frequently asking me to go to the pubs with him, I heard my name called loudly. Glancing down the road, I saw several members of Easy's First Platoon sitting or standing around a table, with most smoking or playing cards, or both. More importantly I saw HIM. 

 I could not help the stupid smile, not even paying attention as a frown appeared on Arthur’s face. "I'll see you around, Arthur." 

 Without waiting for his response, I started towards the group. Although technically they were not my platoon, they welcomed me with open arms as I frequently found myself in their company. 

 "Hey! It's our favorite Corporal!" George Luz announced, passing out a new round of cards to those at the table, a cigarette hanging between his lips. 

 "That's only cause I get cigarettes for you guys."

 "Eh, you're an angel."

 I laughed with the guys as I finally reached them. It was nice to see everyone relaxing under the shade of the large tree, finally receiving a much needed break from drills and field trainings. I did wonder where they stole the table and chairs from since I had never seen it out here before. 

 Denver "Bull" Randleman stood on the other side, watching me with a slight curve of his lips, even around the cigar. My heart skipped a beat as I met his eyes, moving around the table towards him. Automatically, he raised his arm just enough for me to slip under it. It was a practiced, almost subconscious, movement between us by now. "Hey, little lady."

 "Hey, handsome.” I smiled up at him, a wave of happiness crashing over me. A very familiar feeling whenever I was in his presence, even more so since we started a relationship.  

 "Who was that you was talking to?" Johnny Martin asked, standing on Randleman's other side. His typical scowl on his face, eyes narrowed, as he stared from me back to where I had just come from.

 "Oh, Private Arthur Cox." I supplied, not thinking much about it. 

 "From Charlie Company?" Floyd Talbert looked up from the card game. 

 "Yeah."

 "I heard from a reliable source that he's been flirting with you." Talbert continued, trading two of the cards in his hand.  

 "Is that so?" Luz looked back at me, a mischievous grin on his face. "Know anything about that?"

 "It's not a big deal. He's just friendly." I shrugged, feigning disinterest. I really did not want them to know all the things Arthur had been saying lately. 

 "Hear that, Bull! He's just friendly. You better watch your girl." Luz chuckled. 

 "Hey! I ain't his girl!" 

 Bull pulled the cigar from his mouth, giving me a small squeeze as he spoke. "It's alright, darlin'. They know I'm ya man."

 "Damn right."

 "Still, he's been talking about you." Talbert stated, tossing his cards on the table then looking over to me.

 Dammit. Why couldn't he just let this go? The others were paying far too much attention to the conversation to my liking. "He knows I'm with Bull."

 Talbert shrugged. 

 "What?" I snapped.

 "Might not be enough."

 "Tab, what are you saying? He knows I'm not leaving Bull for him." I tried to stay calm. I knew the guys were just looking out for me. They did not trust anyone who wasn't Easy. Randleman's hand slowly rubbed up and down my arm, trying to soothe me. I took a deep breath and leaned my head against his side. 

 "Maybe. He might keep trying for you though."

 "Is that what you would do?"

 "If I saw a girl I really wanted...maybe." Tab winked at me, earning a few chuckles from the group. Everyone knew Talbert was a flirt, but a respectful one. If any women were not interested, he always backed off. Though most women never said 'no' to him. 

 I groaned. "Save me from the stupidity of the male species." I mumbled to myself. 

 "He ask ya to be his girl?" Bull asked, a smirk on his face.  

 "Yeah...sort of."

 "No proposals?"

 I rolled my eyes. He just would not let me forget when a Private from Able Company dropped down on one knee and proposed two weeks ago. Bull had laughed when I told him the story, saying if they really knew me, they would know to bring chocolate. That was my biggest weakness. 

 "Not this time. He does like to compare the two of you though." I admitted, guilt tainting my voice. 

 "I ain't worried.” He winked at me. “We know ya just like me for my body."

 I patted his chest. "Don't you forget it."

 Luz threw down a winning hand, causing the others to groan and the attention to focus back on the game.

 I absent-mindedly watched the next game unfold, my mind though on Arthur. Sure, more than once he had made comments about me; and he had made even more comments about how he did not think Randleman was good enough for me. I thought it was harmless or just annoying. Now I was beginning to wonder if I should take it more seriously, if I needed to stop talking to him. If he really was gunning for me, I needed to set him straight once and for all. Right? 

 There was about a snowball’s chance in hell I would be leaving Randleman. Ever since Toccoa, we had somehow just clicked. At first it had started off as a close friendship, looking out for one another amidst the tortures heaped upon us by Sobel. When some of the other companies would cat-call or yell things at me, he always stood between us, glaring at the men until they backed down. Though I never asked him to do that. More than once I know he took matters into his own hands, or at least orchestrated it so some of the other Easy paratroopers could have their turn swinging punches to defend me...even if none of them ever admitted it later. It was not until one night that I found him at the aid station, getting his knuckles looked at by Doc Roe that he subtly admitted to seeing me as more than a friend. So logically, I kissed him right then and there. If his response said anything, he did not mind too much. After that, things just fell into place for us.

 "Hey."

 I turned my face up to meet Randleman's eyes, still tucked into his side. My favorite place to be. 

 "Ya alright?"

 "Yeah, just thinking." I slipped my hand into his and squeezed three times, letting him know I was ok.  

 "Ya want me to talk to him?"

 I smiled thinking of my boyfriend confronting Arthur. "No, it's ok. I'm sure this will blow over."

 "If you say so, little lady." He pressed a chaste kiss to my temple. It was sweet how whenever he had the chance, he always took it to affectionately touch me. A sweet kiss on the forehead here, an arm tucking me into his side there, even a gentle squeeze of my hand. A silent reassurance of his affection for me. He was not a man of romantic monologues or one-liners. Instead he always reminded me through the simple gestures. I still teased him about it occasionally and he would reply that it was damn near impossible to keep his hands to himself with how beautiful I was and how much he adored me. That always won a kiss from me, even as I blushed crimson.  

 "You tell us if he tries anything." Martin stated, drawing me back from my thoughts, wary scowl on his face. 

 I nodded. 

 "I'm serious."

 "You always are." I quipped back, earning a chuckle from Randleman. 

 Martin huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Why I put up with you two, I don't know."

 "You love us." I teased, fluttering my eyelashes at him. He narrowed his eyes at me but I could see the hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth. Back in North Carolina he had admitted one night I reminded him of his baby sister. When I laughed and told him she was lucky to have a brother like him, that seemed to seal our friendship. Since then he had easily stepped into the role of a big brother. 

 "C'mon, let's get some food." Bull guided me around the table, arm around my shoulders and mine around his waist. Martin followed us, walking on my other side, grumbling about how food here was shit and he missed his wife’s cooking.  

 *****

 I stared across the field at the sunset. The warm colors transitioned into the cool tones of night right before my eyes. Colors so perfect they would make even the most talented artists zealous to try and capture their beauty. I absent-mindedly wondered how much longer I would be able to appreciate the sunsets. Or would war take that away from me. 

 It is only at the call of my name did I retract my gaze from the beauty in the sky. I knew who it was by his voice. And also from the fact that all of Easy knew to leave me alone while I was watching the sunsets. I loved my boys dearly but sometimes a girl just needed to get away. I saw Arthur with his hands in his pockets standing a few paces away from me, the tips of his shaggy hair almost covering his eyes.  

 "Can I join you?" 

 I shrugged, turning back to watch the painter's sky. It seemed fate had a hand in events today. A conversation needed to happen between the two of us and here he was. Dammit. Silently, he sat next to me, our shoulders almost brushing. Several moments went by like that, both of us just staring at the first of the stars to emerge. 

 Sighing, I turned to face him, not looking forward to this conversation. "Arthur, I think-"

 His chapped lips interrupted me, slammed against my lips with an almost desperation to them. His hands cupped my face, pulling it closer to his. The sharp burn on alcohol was on his breath. I vaguely wondered if he needed liquid courage before doing this. 

 I sat there stunned for a second. I had thought he was all talk. I never would have expected...this. 

 In the next second, I tried to pull back, putting my hands on his chest for leverage. This had to be a drunken mistake. I was sure he would apologize after. Instead of releasing me, his grip on me tightened marginally and his tongue forced its way into my mouth. 

 This time, I roughly shoved him away with both hands on his chest, making him rock back and almost fall over. Before he could recover, I reared back my fist and slammed it into his eye. Pain exploded from my hand but I did not care. Anger and revulsion fueled me. How dare he?! 

 I rolled back and onto my feet putting necessary space between us otherwise I would be tempted to hit him again. He knew I only saw him as a friend. He knew I had no plans to leave Randleman. Yet he still kissed me without my consent...forced himself on me! 

 Staring wide-eyed, anger and betrayal warring within me, I watched him right himself and placed a hand over the eye I had hit. 

 "You're too good for him." In anyone else it might have sounded like begging, but from him, someone I had thought was my friend, he made it sound like he was stating a fact. "You deserve better. Please, give us a chance. I could-"

 I turned on my heel and fled before he could finish. If I heard another word from him, I would not be held responsible for my actions. Right now though, I needed Randleman. I needed comfort and someone to soothe the ache in my heart. I needed the taste of someone I did not want off my lips. The feeling of his hands erased from my memory. Of his tongue awkwardly plundering my mouth and leaving a lingering hint of beer.

 The barn door slammed open as I shoved it, not even caring about how loud it was. Most of the men should still be awake. The barn they were billeted in was nice enough. There was a cot for each person and plenty of blankets. My feet moved on autopilot, eating up the ground beneath me. I knew he would be on his cot, waiting for me to return like every night to say goodnight before I headed to the house I was billeted in.  

 "Hey! What's got-"

 Whatever Luz saw on my face immediately shut him up. A heavy silence filled the barn as I stormed over to where Bull reclined, cigar in his mouth. He slowly sat up, pulling the cigar from between his lips. Before he could say anything I pressed my lips to his in a bruising, passionate kiss. Something we NEVER did in front of others. I did not care though. I needed the taste of Arthur off my lips. I needed to trade the taste of alcohol for a cigar. 

 Soon as I released him, I felt loathing towards myself. Bile stung my throat. I just forced a kiss on him. Not to show my affection but in demand to mask the taste of another. What was wrong with me? This was the man I loved. How could I have done this to him? It was selfish. Disgust flooded me, aimed at myself and now all I wanted to do was hide and cry. 

 Panicking and without a word, I turned to step away but before I could move further, a firm grip wrapped around my wrist, holding me in place. 

 "Talk to me." He softly said in that calm drawl of his. I could not help but instantly feel some of the tension loosen inside of me. 

 Tears blurred my vision, disgust at Arthur's actions and my own. I could only stare at the ground, shaking my head. My chest was tight, throat thick with suppressed sobs. 

 "Little lady, what happened?" He asked quietly, dipping his head to try and catch my eye. 

 Martin, who had been sitting on the next cot over, spoke up. "Why are your knuckles bruised?" A second later, his voice turned hard and demanding. "Who hurt you?"

 The hand holding me, tugged me back, pulling me into his lap. Comforting warmth enveloped me as Randleman wrapped his arms around me. I laid my head on his broad chest, his heartbeat a soothing sound under my ear. I forced the treacherous tears away. This was not something I would let control my emotions. Arthur was not worth it. All this did was show his true colors. A gentle kiss on the top of my head reminded me who mattered most to me. Who promised to always have my back and never doubt me. Like I promised to never doubt him and always be there for him. He was my best friend, my lover...maybe even one day my future. 

 "He kissed me." I finally muttered, my face still buried in his chest.

 "Mmm?"

 I leaned back slightly to meet my boyfriend’s concerned gaze. "Arthur….he kissed me and said….well, it doesn't matter now."

 "So ya clocked him?" He asked.

 I nodded. 

 "Good."

 "I never thought… I didn't think he would force me and…"

 "Shhh, s'alright." He rubbed my back, holding me close. "I'll take care of it."

 I did not even question his statement, caught up in my own emotions and soaking in his comforting presence. I could not tell if I was overreacting. I felt justified to be upset and angry at Arthur. At the moment, I did not want to think about it anymore. I wanted to forget Arthur and what just happened. I just wanted Randleman, his soft touches and calming aura. 

 Above my head Randleman and Martin's gazes meet with a darkness simmering underneath. Martin nodded and got up, stalking out of the barn after telling the others to leave me alone. 

 *****

 "Heard ya kissed my girl." Randleman stated, watching the black-haired Private who had made you almost cry. An unforgivable sin in his eyes. A little flirting never bothered him, he usually found it amusing to watch their faces when they realized he was your man. He could practically see the wheels turning, questioning how someone like him could have caught himself such a beautiful, smart, talented woman like you. Often he questioned it himself but thanked his lucky stars daily for blessing him with you. 

 But when someone actively hurt you. When they made you cry. There would be hell to pay...and he had no qualms about doling out justified retribution. 

 Arthur looked over his shoulder before turning back to counting boxes next to a supply truck. "Yeah? Who told you that?"

 "She did and some of the stuff you've been saying to her." The Arkansas man chuckled. "Got a nice shiner there too."

 "So? It's true.' Arthur whipped around, eyes blazing. Though, one eye was distinctly bloodshot with a fantastic array of colors around it. "You're nothing but a redneck that can't-"

 "You're gonna need to shut the fuck up before you say another word." Martin interrupted, moving to stand next to Bull in silent support. 

 "Who the hell are you? Some bodyguard? Redneck here can't fight his own battles?"

 Martin glared, crossing his arms over his chest.

 The Private sneered. "Your grim reaper look don't scare me."

 "That's where you're wrong." Martin stated, rolling his shoulders, signature glare still in place. "I'm not the grim reaper. He's on holiday. I'm his replacement….and I don't need a sickle to beat your ass."

 "I don't need to hear this shit." Arthur tried to move around the side of the truck only to come face to face with a grinning Guarnere and smug Toye. 

 "Hi ya, cowboy."

 "Who the fuck are you two?" Arthur demanded, eyes hard and fists clenched. 

 Toye shrugged, lighting a cigarette. "Concerned citizens."

 Arthur tried to move around them but Guarnere shoved him back. 

 "Shut the fuck up, cowboy, and listen to the man before I kick your teeth in."

 "You can kick your leg that high?" Toye asked, looked over to his friend casually. 

 "You know what- shut up, Joe."

 "I'd rather see Martin go grim reaper on his ass." Toye shrugged. 

 Martin grinned wickedly. "Would be my pleasure."

 Randleman spoke up, drawing Arthur's attention back to him. "Ya stay away from my woman. I hear ya talkin' to her again, I can promise ya, they won't find ya body."

 "Are you threatening me?" Arthur drew himself up to his full height, which to most guys might have been a challenge, but he was still shorter than the taller than average Randleman. 

 With the way this jack-ass was acting, Randleman almost wished he would try and take a swing. Give him a reason to knock his arrogant ass on the ground. 

 "No, son. That's a promise." Randleman exhaled, smoke drifting lazily out of his mouth from his trusty cigar. "We'll be lettin' ya get back to work now." 

 "Run along, boy." Martin leveled a hard look at Arthur that would have even the devil himself reconsidering his options.  

 Leveling his own less-than-impressive glare, Arthur looked at the four guys that surrounded him before turning on his heel and walking away. 

 "I gotta ask." Toye started as they watched the Private leave. He turned to look at his friend. "Can you really get your leg up-"

 "Shut up, Toye, before I kick your teeth in."

 "I mean maybe Perco or Luz you could but-"

 Randleman chuckled as Guarnere tried to put Toye in a headlock. He could only hope this Arthur was smart enough to heed his warning. 

 *****

 I sat in the mess hall, well, the building that had been converted into a mess hall for the Airbourne. Randleman sat on my right, hand holding mine underneath the table. Smoky on my left was arguing across the table with Skinny about something dumb. Honestly, I had already zoned their conversation out. Further down the table, Buck was telling a story from his Rose Bowl days that had those listening in absolute stitches. 

 A smile teased my lips as I glanced around the table. Sometimes it would randomly hit me how lucky I was to be in Easy Company. They were idiots, but my idiots. Except for Bull. He would always be my man. 

 I looked up to peek at the other table of Easy boys but froze when I noticed Arthur walking down the aisle, trying to find a seat. As if feeling my gaze, he looked my way. Instead of flashing me his signature smile or a quick wink and continuing on….he glared. Anger flared in me, ready to explode once again. Our paths had not crossed since the day he kissed me, which I was infinitely grateful for. I was unsure how I would handle it if he tried to approach me. Now seeing him, all I could think of was hitting him again. I could tell the black eye I had given him was not as bright, the colors dulling into yellows instead of black and blue. There was a sense of pride that he somehow had to explain his black eye to any who asked. 

 Then I realized his glare was not aimed at me but to my right, at Randleman beside me. Confused, I glanced up expecting to see Bull listening to Buck with the corner of his lips turned up slightly in amusement. Instead he was staring back at Arthur with a stoic expression and stern eyes. My gaze darted between the two, wondering what was going on. As far as I knew, they had never spoken; though the tension radiating between the two practically screamed confrontation. After a long moment, Arthur gave a curt nod and walked on by. 

 "What just happened?" I murmured, eyeing my boyfriend. 

 "Nothin'."

 "Bull…"

 He glanced down at me, slinging his arm around my shoulders and tucking me into his side. "Told ya I'd take care of it."

 I stared expectantly, waiting for the explanation.  

 "We just came to an understandin'." He finally said. 

 "Did you threaten him?"

 His reply was a brief wink. 

 I laughed, snuggling closer into his side. 

 "I told ya, little lady. I'm ya man and I don't take too kindly to others tryin' to take my position."

 "Mmm...I think you're a keeper." After a moment, I smirked. "So I probably shouldn't tell you about the Sergeant in Dog Company who tried to give me flowers yesterday."

 "Flowers, huh?" He grinned down at me, eyes alight with mischief. "Least he's got class. What ya do?"

 "I pretended to be allergic and kept sneezing whenever he tried to talk to me after."

 He laughed, planting a kiss to the top of my head. "Do I need to start gettin' ya things too?"

 "No," I reached up to kiss his jawline, making him blush. "I just want you...and maybe some chocolate."

 "I think I can manage that, little lady."

#band of brothers #Band of Brothers fandom #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers imagine #bull randleman #bull randleman x reader #denver bull randleman #johnny martin #george luz #floyd talbert #bill guarnere #joe toye #reader insert #based on tumblr post #mzwrites

[1234-angelika]

Working it Out

an:Hey y'all!! I'm really excited for this week and, I'm so happy that you guys have been enjoying this series. Now, without further ado, here's the second installment of Derek's Happily Ever After.

words:1k

warnings:I dont think there are any

summary:"One day someone will walk into your life and make you see why it never worked out with anyone else."-Unknown

masterpost|taglist|have an idea

In the six months since you had met Derek in the gym, it had become a routine. Twice a week, you would go to the gym on your own and then work out together, helping as needed.

During that time, flirting became the norm. You would often find yourself getting distracted and your mind wandering when you were on the receiving end of the flirting. You were also left flustered, which impaired your ability to concentrate on your workout; however, your flirting didn’t seem to have the same effect on him. Either he was especially good at controlling his reactions or, he didn’t feel the same way and endured your flirting out of pity. Still, you found yourself looking forward to each session.

Come Thursday, you wake up, and you know something is off. Not feeling super great, you manage to coerce yourself out of bed and into the shower. The hot water washing over you helped to make you feel better. You got ready for the day and packed your bag before drinking some tea alongside eating a light breakfast. The massive headache you had woken up with, still raging in your head.

Swiping your keys off the counter, you were out the door and on your way to work. You grabbed yourself a hot tea at the Starbucks drive-through and continued the commute. Traffic was slow, like usual, but eventually, you got to Quantico. Upon arrival, you settled into your office, which was just off the gym. Your morning was spent finalizing fitness reports and training files for the new recruits in the academy. It was a nice break—quiet and peaceful—a stark contrast to the gym’s environment. By the time you had finished the paperwork, it was 3 o’clock.

You headed into the gym, expecting Derek to be there. He wasn’t. You understood, from the start, that he had an incredibly unpredictable schedule, but usually, when he left for a case, he left a note in your locker or under the door of your office. Shaking your head, you cleared it of the worst-case scenarios that immediately came to mind. You broke away from your distracted mind and tried to focus on what you were there to do, to work out.

You warmed up with some stretching before starting the HIIT workout you were designing for one of the agents. Starting with Kettlebell swings, controlled and no higher than eye level, you did as many as you could in 35 seconds before resting for 25. Following were burpees, bear crawls and, high knees; you did each activity for 35 seconds with 25 rest in-between. After that, push-ups, dumbbell overhead presses and, bodyweight squats for the same duration as the other exercises. Lastly, you did a set of bicycle crunches. The idea was to complete the circuit four times. You were just finishing up the bicycle crunches for the last round when Derek ran into the gym.

He didn’t look like he was out of breath, more like he was flustered. He ran up to you and immediately began apologizing.

“Hey Y/N, sorry I was late—“he said hurriedly, tone apologetic.

“Don’t worry about it Derek, I kept myself busy.” You said with a smile, trying to ease his very obvious guilt.

“—I didn’t mean to miss our usual workout.” He finished what he started before you interrupted him.

“It’s alright, you can tell me all about over smoothies. I saw a truck parked out front.” You offered, trying to help ease some of his guilt.

You collected your things and locked up your office before heading out the door. Derek was quick to open it for you and gestured for you to walk through first. You thanked him and stepped out, waiting for him to follow. You walked side-by-side through the hall, bumping shoulders occasionally—not so accidentally—and out the front door. The sun was warm on your face, and even though you weren’t feeling the greatest, you felt your mood instantly boost—the powers of the sun and good company. You ordered your drinks and then stood, waiting for them to be made.

“So about earlier….” He started.

“Yes, you were going to tell me why you got side-tracked.” You continued his thought.

“I came in early to get some advice from my teammates and they got side-tracked.”

“Oh really?”

“They kept asking questions and teasing, which I’m not really used to.”

You laughed at his admission and grabbed your drinks. The two of you sat on a bench, a bit away from the front of the building, and you just kept talking. Getting to know each other more in-depth. The conversation flowed easily, and it was relatively light. You had almost finished your drinks when Derek’s phone rang. He stepped away to answer the call, and you looked around, trying your best not to listen. He walked back to you, and you could see the apologetic look settling on his features.

“Case?” You asked with a small smile.

“Yeah, we got a case. It’s in Texas and it’s bad, we’re just briefing on the jet.” He answered, tone slightly disappointed.

“I’m sorry D. Look, please don’t worry about missing the gym session today, we can hang out together when you get back.”

A smile bloomed onto his face, and he said, “When we get back, Imma take you out.”

“Really?”

“Really, unless you say no,” Derek said. “I do have manners.”

“That is true….” You said in agreement.

“Anyways, here’s my number,” he said, handing you a piece of paper, “Text me and we can talk while I’m gone.”

“Sounds like a plan, I can’t wait to see you again.” You said, smiling at him.

“See you later pretty lady.” He said, and before he ran off again, he kissed your cheek.

You stared after him as he walked away. And again, you were anticipating the next time you saw Derek Morgan.

taglist:@multixfandomwriter @myescapefromthislife

#criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #derek morgan #derek morgan x reader #derek x reader #happilyeverafter #hea

[whimsicallyreading]

Dark Roast No Sugar

Chapter Three

Aelin would never admit it out loud, but a day off was just what she needed. She spent the morning napping, snacking, and reading. Her stomach settled, and when she took off her shoes, her feet didn't look like they belonged to a bloated cadaver.

 Spending that time with Aedion was also refreshing. He kept the conversations light. Telling her about the antics between hostesses at The Pits, a run-in between Ren and the police. A story about the drug dealer they'd roughed up and how he'd pissed his pant when he saw Aedion and the stray puppy Kyllian had snuck into The Den.

 When they got hungry, Aedion offered to make them a late lunch. Her mouth watered at the prospect of his famous grilled cheese with two kinds of cheeses and ketchup.

 Lysandra came up to join them for lunch and her nose wrinkled at the sight of them dragging the cheesy goodness through globs of red sauce. "By the dark god, you two. That's disgusting."

 Aedion grins, a dot of ketchup on his chin, "You haven't even tried it yet. This meal is a riot with the guys and saved my ass with foster siblings." He wiped his face on his sleeve and leaned back in his chair. "You don't shit on the kid who can actually make edible food."

 Aelin laughs and dusts her hands off like a lady. "Actually, you don't shit on the kid who looks like he started doping at eleven. But yeah, I'm sure it was your budget lunches that saved you."

 "Shut up, you love it when I cook," Aedion collected their plates.

 Lysandra pulls up the chair next to Aelin's at their tiny, rickety table. She set down her container of salad, looking classier with her more mature pallet. Aelin swiped a cucumber from the top and chewed into the seasoned veggie. "Your food is nostalgic. What can I say?"

 Aedion's playful demeanor seemed to deflate suddenly, a furrow creasing his brow. "I suppose why I have you two together, we should talk some business."

 "Uh oh, that doesn't sound good." Lysandra tensed up, shooting a worried look at Aelin.

 "Is it the bidding for this month? I told you I could get at least an extra hundred dollars to you by the end of the month. If you need more, I could-"

 Aedion cut off Aelin's rambling with a raised hand. "It's not the bidding. Elias pulled enough to cover our bets for the month." Relief flooded through her, and she breathed out a sigh of relief.

 The underground fighting game in Orynth was wildly exclusive. To get a spot during prime hours when tickets were hot and the betting pool was hotter, the local gangs had to participate in an auction. It was pricey, but the cuts you got from winning a fight made up for it big time.

  Unfortunately, the Bane was not a wealthy group of men. A lot of them had families or relatives they were supporting. They usually scavenged up enough money to get two or three guys into the fights, and those funds were just enough to pull them through to the next month.

 Like Aelin, those families did what they could to fund money towards the bidding. Initially, she was going to volunteer as a fighter, but she found out about the baby, and they all agreed it was too risky for her to get in the ring. As soon as she was cleared, she still intended to participate in the fights to Aedion's chagrin.

 Between the extra patrols of her street and snuffing the rumors of her existence in the city, it took a chunk of the Bane's recourses and time. Aedion assured her that the guys understood her circumstances, but she contributed as much as she could monetarily until she could contribute physically as well. "What's going on then?"

 "Rolf took a beating in the ring last night. He's going to be out of commission for a while, but we didn't lose any money. He managed to bust the guy's head at the last moment and pulled through." He paused.

 Aelin was confused, though. It wasn't uncommon for one of the guys to get roughed up a bit, so long as they didn't lose, there wasn't an issue. "That's too bad about Rolf, but I don't see the problem?" she pushed him to continue.

 "He swears the guy was tripping on Synth," Aedion breathes out, pained.

 Oh.

 "Shit," Lysandra swears and stands up. "Is he sure it was Synth?"

 "It's kinda hard to rutting mistake, Lysandra," Aedion snapped. He was right, though. The Pits had rules against cheating, but they were followed loosely. If they couldn't see a knife being pulled, the fight wouldn't be called. Some of the Bane even doped before a match just so they wouldn't get caught at a disadvantage.

 Synth had a lot of physical effects. Adrenalin coursed through the user at such high rates it was practically superhuman. It gave them crazy speed, strength, and heightened focus. On the flip side, it also caused fever, bulged veins, twitching, bloodshot eyes, and uncontrollable rage as you came down. It would be hard to mistake it for any other street drug. Aelin had taken Synth once before, and it wasn't an easily forgettable experience.

 The detail they were glossing over was that only one person was currently capable of leaking a drug like Synth on the streets.

Arobynn Hammel

 "So," Aelin finally said, breaking up the heated glares they were sharing. "He's making his presence in Orynth known."

 Quiet.

 "We can't know it for sure," Aedion looked at her with a sickening amount of pity. Aelin didn't want sympathy or comforting falsities. She wanted the truth.

 "Bullshit," Aelin declared, making Aedion wince at the sudden sharpness. "We've had sightings of Tern and Mulligan already. We knew he was sending eyes out. They must have seen us."

 Lysandra sunk back into her chair and rested her head in her hands. "I thought we made it?" her voice sounded extraordinarily young, feeble. Not at all like the vivacious woman they were used to seeing.

 "Lys," it was Aelin's turn to rest a comforting hand on her friend's shoulder.

 Her eyes were glassy and hollow when she looked up. "I really had myself believing we made it."

 Aelin's heart broke for her.

 Arobynn was a sick son of a bitch. She, Lysandra, and Sam had all come into his care at different times and served various functions within the Manor. One thing was the same though, they were all children.

 They were all coerced into doing grotesque things for Arobynn's sake. Things that they should, in all honesty, spend years in therapy to recover from. Yet, some horrors were too big for even Aelin to pretend to understand.

 Horrors that Lysandra was forced to live with every day.

 Arobynn's unofficial mistress.

 Aedion's fist slamming against the table startled them both and snapped Aelin from her thoughts. Lysandra flinched and leaned closer to Aelin. "It doesn't matter."

  He pointed his finger at them and then stabbed it into the table. "It. Does. Not. Matter. Where that piece of shit is. Rifthold? Wendelyn? He can be an hour away or watering the rutting flowers next door, but he will never have either of you ever again." The golden core in Aedion's eyes was molten.

 The excitement was too much for Lysandra, and the dam behind her eyes broke. Deep, heavy sobs ripped from her chest, and her body wilted forward like a wind-whipped flower.

 They moved at the same time, but Aedion was faster. He pulled Lysandra from her seat and gathered her against his chest, shushing her and whispering sweet nothings into her hair.

 The bells rang downstairs.

 Aedion looked up helplessly, but Aelin raised a hand and mouthed, "It's fine."

 None of them wanted Lysandra to be alone right now.

 Aelin slipped her shoes back on and hopped down the stairs quickly. Hopefully, they wouldn't be too pissed no one was behind the counter when they walked in, she mused to herself. It only took her half-a-minute to get downstairs, but it was amazing the things people got outraged over.

 Mala forgive that the coffee gets in their hand a second later than usual.

 "Do my eyes deceive me, or was Aelin Galathynius taking a break?" Dorian Havilliard's greeted her with a bright smile and upraised hands. No trace of agitation at all.

 Chaol Westfall stood behind him and meekly tilted his chin. "Hello, Aelin."

 "Hello, Chaol." She greets him with a smile and walks into Dorian's outstretched arms. Aelin wasn't a hugger, but Dorian's hugs had a magic to them.

 "Where did you go?" Dorian asked without breaking his grasp. "I never thought I'd see the day you weren't slaving away behind the counter grinding beans."

 "We weren't super busy today, and I wasn't feeling the best," Aelin admitted.

 Dorian pulled away slightly to look down at her in concern. His dark, thick-framed blue light glasses slipping down his nose.

 "It's just the baby," she assures him. "Not the flu or anything. You don't have the right parts to catch what I've got."

 Chaol snickered, but Dorian's concern only worsened. "In all seriousness, you aren't working yourself too hard?"

 Aelin rolled her eyes. If one more person asked her that-

 "I'm fine, Dor. It was just some morning sickness and a stressful customer that came through. No big deal."

 His shoulders relax, and he releases her from his arms. "I believe you. Just-" he fumbles for the words to say, "If you have troublesome people coming in here and bothering you, let me know? Chaol can come over and hang out for the day. He has a friend, Nesryn. If it gets bad, I am more than willing to hire her-"

 Aelin smiled at him and waved at him. "No need for bodyguards. People are rude. It happens. Now, what can I get for the both of you?"

 Dorian was the son of the esteemed son of Dorian Sr. The owner of Adarlan Vaults, the most extensive banking chain across Erilea. It was a total accident that they stumbled into each other when Aelin went in looking for a loan to start The Stag with.

 At first, he was a bit of a flirt with her. When Aelin made it clear that she wasn't interested in his advances, Dorian backed off right away and fell into the role of the supportive friend. He and Chaol had been the first patrons of the shop when the doors opened.

 Chaol was technically his hired protection, but he and Dorain were life long friends bound by something more powerful than money. She never saw the two of them apart. While he appeared to be a quiet sort, he had a sharp mind and fierce loyalty that Aelin admired.

 "Two iced girl scout americano's," Dorian pulled out his wallet and handed her a twenty. "Large, please."

 Aelin accepted the cash and started filling cups as the two took their standard seats. She just got the espresso machine heated when a set of hands pushed her's aside and began flipping the switches for her.

 "Aedion," she groaned as his hip bumped her to the side, and he took over her tasks. "Seriously?"

 "You are supposed to be taking the day off," he looks at her pointedly. "Go sit with your friends. I've got this."

 "Do you have this?" Aelin set a hand on her hip. "You haven't used these machines before."

 Aedion scoffed, "It cannot be that complicated. Now go. Before Lysandra comes back down and wipes the floor with both of our asses." He pulls out two large mugs and grabs out a bottle of coconut flavoring. "Baby A is shielding you for now, but that woman has the memory of a rutting elephant. Don't think you can hide behind my niece or nephew forever." He's more talking to himself by the end as he starts over pouring syrups into cups. Did he even know what he was making? Aelin winced.

 She might have to return the twenty to Dorian.

 Aelin walks away reluctantly, "Mind if I sit here for a minute, boys?"

 Chaol stands up and pulls a chair out for her, "Not at all."

 He holds out a hand to help her sit, but she waves it away. She wasn't that pregnant yet.  

 Dorian has a hardbound book sitting in front of him, the face of his expensive watch catching the light as he turns the page. "I haven't seen you by the bank this week," he says without looking up from the page.

 "We've been enjoying the peace," Chaol sits back in his own seat and flashes her a grin. "That's a joke, of course. It's been horribly boring."

 "It's been a busy week. I haven't had a chance to drop my deposit off yet." Aelin typically made an excuse to visit the bank at least once a week. Dorian would kindly excuse whatever teller was working to take a break and promptly close the register so they could sit in the break room and talk over cookies and drip coffee.

 She was planning on going yesterday, but her feathers were too ruffled after the incident.

 "I suppose I can live without that excuse since I've taken it upon myself to visit you at work." He pulls a plastic bag filled with assorted chocolates and places it on the table between them. "If you need to drop off a deposit, I can take it back with me?"

 Aelin's hand darts to the bag of sweets and pulls out a dark, salty square. "Have I mentioned you are the most attractive man I've ever met?"

 They hear a loud scoff from the kitchen.

 "You've mentioned it a few times." He glances up from his book long enough to wink at her. "What about that deposit?"

 "I don't think I will have a big enough deposit to warrant the trip this week," the excuse isn't well-formed, and she hears it when the lie falls from her lips.

 "You said you had a busy week?" Dorian frowns.

 I did, but I'm putting aside extra money to fund my cousin's gang because my former foster father has a hit out on me.

 "The tips have been bad" not a total lie. "Maybe it will pick up again over the weekend," Aelin shrugs nonchalantly.  

 Aedion walks over with two cups of coffee and a mug of tea. He lets Dorian's drink slosh over the side as he sets it down. Dorian lifts his book away from the mess and glares.

 She wasn't sure what went down between Dorian and Aedion that made them hate each other. Chaol and Aedion had no qualms. They were even drinking buddies on the weekend, but Aedion had a bone to pick with Dorian long before she'd arrived back in Orynth.

 Aelin half-heartedly scolded Aedion as she accepted her drink. Taking a deep drink from the mug, she was surprised to find that it was made exactly as she liked.

 Chaol sipped his coffee, and Aelin watched as he barely held back a grimace. Dorian reached for his own cup, but Chaol discretely pulled it away before he could drink. Aelin caught the motion, but thankfully Aedion was already back in the kitchen and hadn't noticed.

 "I will remake those for you before you leave," Aelin assured them.

 "It's alright. As much as I love coffee, I really came by to spill tea," Dorian took his glasses off and leaned back in his chair.

 "Gossip," Chaol translated. "He means gossip."

 Dorian rolls his eyes, "That's what tea means, Chaol." Leaning forward with his elbows on the table, "A company called Wendlyn Ops. bought out The Pits."

 "What?" Aelin shouts a little too loudly. Dorian shushes her, and Aedion peers out from the kitchen with worried eyes. She waves him away and whispers in a quieter tone. "What do you mean The Pits have been bought out? What for?"

 "I didn't realize you would care this much about the seediest bar in town," Dorian laughed. "It's not like you can drink."

 "You aren't drinking, right?" Chaol scowls.

 Aelin reins back her emotions. She was definitely losing her tack being off the job for several months, but the secret basement underneath The Pits was where the fights were usually held. Iona Jayne would never sell the property when it brought in so much money.

 He either owed someone a rutting ton of money, he was being blackmailed, or the most likely option.

 Iona Jayne was dead.

 Aelin flipped Chaol off, "Of course I'm not drinking. No promises on that in about five months... Just, who would want The Pits? Are they repurposing it?" She can already feel a headache forming behind her eyes.

 "That's the interesting part," Chaol murmured. "The title for The Pits was transferred to a new owner just a few days before it was sold for triple its market value."

 Dorian's grin became mischievous, "Shady deals are going on, and I'm determined to find out what."

 Shit. Shit. Shit.

 Aelin forced a matching smile on her, "Well, this sounds like the making of an adventure."

 Aedion was deeply involved with all the goings-on at The Pits. If Dorian managed to learn too much and expose them, he would go down hard. She wasn't directly implicated in anything beyond a little racketeering, but one prolonged look at her record would raise some eyebrows. Which could tie her back to Rifthold and numerous murders. A lot of murder. Thievery. Hired assassinations.

 They would be screwed, essentially.

 Damn it all to hellas, she needed to talk to Aedion. Aelin understood why Dorian was interested in this. His father was involved with so many corrupt dealings they followed him like a shadow. She knew he was socially isolated beyond herself and Chaol. No one dared to associate with the son of Dorian Sr.

 Unveiling a corrupt business dealing and aiding the community could help separate his image from his father's. Rectify some of the wrongs his family has committed. Give him a chance at making a future for himself out from Dorian Sr.'s thumb.

 Aelin just wished he knew the depth of the task he was taking. How deep, dark, and dangerous this viper's den was. Sweet, sheltered Dorian Jr. would be eaten alive. A blue-eyed pup, trapped in the jaws of an adder.

 Little did he know that Aelin was a wolf herself, and she would not stand for that breaking.

 Aelin directed the conversation to safer grounds following the bomb he dropped. They discussed the book he was reading, the litter of pups his dog was expecting, his disgusting little brother. Chaol seemed to sour at the mention of Holland.

 Soon they were provided with fresh drinks, and Aelin ushered them out under the pretense of needing a nap. Definitely not a lie. Her stomach was rolling again, and that blooming headache was now a whole damn rosebush in her brain.

 Rubbing the knot between her eyes, she made the difficult decision of closing for the day. Business was slow. Lysandra hadn't come back downstairs. Aelin wasn't feeling well, and there was no chance she was letting Aedion use her precious machines again.

 Aelin looked outside the window. It was grey and dreary outside. Perfect conditions for the three of them to order pizza, rent a movie and just put this day behind them.

 "Aedion, I'm closing up." She didn't hear a reply. Aelin shrugged it off. He'd probably gone back up to sit with Lysandra.

 She opened a can of coffee grounds and inhaled wistfully. What she wouldn't give for a cup of straight caffeine. With one last longing sniff, Aelin refilled canisters for tomorrow and got to cleaning up the machines.

 All that was left was to close up the registers.

 She'd just unlocked the drawer when the ring of the shop bells went off.

 "Sorry, we're closed," Aelin said without looking away from the task at hand. She would have to remember to lock the doors first next time.

 Heavy boots thudded against her wooden floors as whoever it was approached the counter. Her irritation peeked. What was with the influx of entitled assholes lately?

 "We are close-" Aelin's stopped and her eyes narrowed at the gun barrel aimed at the center of her forehead.

I’m figuring out how the tagging list thing works- ☺️

If you would like me to add or take your name off the list for future updates let me know~

@thisismylibrary

@highladywhitethrone

@bee55

@royalsqueeze

@rowaelin-cressworth

@sjmships

#aelinandrowan #poorlysandra #sexyapronaedion #aelinneedsadamnnap #coffeeshopau #fanfic #suspenseintensifies

[timelordthirteen]

In All Things 26/?

Mr. Gold/BelleFrench, Explicit (eventually)

Summary: A Rumbelle arranged marriage AU.

Chapter Summary: An invitation, a decision, and touch of regret.

Notes: Oh my gosh this got so long and there’s so much dialogue and uuuugghhh. Sorry. It was necessary I guess. Also idiots got all cute with each other and *hands*

[AO3]

Gold stared at the crown in the center of the wax seal, his thumb running back and forth over the thick, raised edge.

He knew what it was, particularly given the extra embellishment on the outside of the paper, and any other year it would have swiftly been tossed into the fireplace and forgotten, but this year he found himself in a different situation. The seal cracked easily, a few bits crumbling to the desk as he unfolded the letter. Inside was a card made of a heavier parchment and embossed in one corner with the sigil of the royal family. Across the card, in an elaborate calligraphy style writing, were the words... Lord & Lady Gold

He sat back in his chair, momentarily startled by the titles written together, much as the near daily realization that he was married did. Setting the card aside, he scanned the letter, noting the usual pleasantries and flowery phrasing. It was the expected invitation to the royal court’s New Year’s ball, an extravagant one night event, surrounded by some of the most tedious and disingenuous people he’d ever met. Still, Lady Ella would be there, and he supposed there would be other acquaintances of Belle’s that she might like to see. But a solstice celebration at Thornhill was a far cry from the royal court. Accepting the invitation would mean being seen in the most public way possible, at one of the largest events in the kingdom.

Then there was the small matter of the dance.

He rubbed at his leg idly, remembering the tight ache from a few days ago. The dance he’d shared with Belle had taken up residence in a corner of his mind, rather persistently. It kept coming to the forefront in the late hours, and he couldn’t sort out how he felt about it to put it to rest. There was a moment at the end, after he’d spun her around one last time, delighting in her bright smile, where they had been very close, and he could admit that for that brief instant he’d been almost spellbound. The thought of kissing her sprang to mind, shocking him, and had then been swiftly dismissed.

It was absurd for him to even consider. A beautiful woman in close proximity would naturally raise such ideas, if one's guard was let down, and he was only human. But that was simply not the way things were with Belle. Their marriage was becoming a strong, capable partnership, one where they were working together for the prosperity of two estates and all those who depended upon them. Romance, lust, too much wine, whatever that brief instant had been had no place in that plan. Never mind that Belle would likely be aghast at what he’d been thinking. She trusted him, and he couldn’t risk doing anything to disrupt that, certainly not something so silly and fleeting.

“What’s wrong?” came Jefferson’s voice.

Gold sighed and set the invitation down on the far side of the desk before looking up at his friend. “That.”

Jefferson frowned and picked up the page, his eyes jumping back and forth, getting wider as he skimmed it. “Well...”

“Hmm.” He sat back in his chair and motioned for Jefferson to sit. “That was my thought, or lack thereof, exactly.”

“Are you going to accept?”

Jefferson handed the invitation back, and Gold folded it closed. “I have not decided, but I should probably speak with Belle before I do. The palace may have become a dangerous place for us now that we’ve disrupted George’s plan to take Avonlea.”

Jefferson smirked. “Yes, I think your wife’s opinion on the matter would be interesting.”

He gave Jefferson a flat look and shook his head. “She likely wouldn’t want to go, and I can’t say I blame her.”

“Nor I,” Jefferson agreed. “There’s also the small matter of politics when one is at court. It’s a game I don’t imagine Belle would want to play.”

“Very true.” Then Gold sighed. “So, to what do I owe this visit from you in the middle of the afternoon?”

Jefferson suddenly looked deadly serious and sat forward in his chair. His voice was low as he spoke, as though he was afraid of being overheard. “On the heels of your little coup at Avonlea, I’m told that the King is attempting to subvert your victory by getting the council to take it away again.”

He made a face and then frowned. “Is it reliable?”

Jefferson nodded. “I believe so. Everything else I’ve received from this source has been, and they are very well placed with the royal court.”

Gold leaned his elbows on the desk as his eyes fixed on the invitation card for the New Year’s ball. “Belle will be the named heir to Avonlea now. It doesn’t make any sense.”

“But the King does not know that yet,” Jefferson said. “As far as he understands, the estate is yours by rights. Maurice signed it over, those were the papers were sent to the palace.”

He met Jefferson’s gaze and huffed. “That may be true, but the council would have to believe that it was done under some sort of false pretense, that Maurice was coerced or otherwise not in his right mind.”

Jefferson’s look was pointed. “Do you really believe it will be that hard for the King to convince them to agree with his proposal? Enough of them dislike you sufficiently to believe you are capable of willful deceit as it pertains to Maurice and Avonlea, whether or not it’s actually true.”

Gold scowled and made a begrudged, grumbling reply. He knew Jefferson was right. A number of the other nobles thought little of him, whether because of his past, or because of how he had helped George ascend to the throne. They were forced to treat him as an equal, though they clearly despised it, which he always used as a source of amusement. That the same derision with which they regarded him was now directed at Belle pained him, and further reinforced that he was nothing but a bastard for trapping her in a marriage.

“You’re right,” he said finally, nodding to Jefferson and sighing. “He would need Belle to support his petition to the council, and to support the claim that Maurice was forced to give up his land.”

“He probably believes she would if he promises to give Avonlea over to her heir.”

The words nearly startled Gold. Of course the King would make that sort of stipulation, it was the only way to ensure the misery of everyone involved, and the result that he desired which was Avonlea under royal control. Gold abruptly pushed to his feet, his fist thumping hard on the desk before he turned and stalked to the window. The cool draft off the glass was a welcome sensation on his face, and he knew it must be furiously red as dhis heart rate increased along with his anger. There would be no heir, and Belle would be forced to watch her home be given to whatever lord or lady prostrated themselves the most.

Jefferson came to stand beside him, his hands folded behind his back. “What do you want to do?”

“What I want to do, and what I should do, are very different things,” he said.

Then he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, blowing it out slowly as he tried to calm himself. What he wanted to do was take George Spencer’s legs right out from under him with his cane, crown or no crown.

“Maybe...” Jefferson began, glancing sideways at Gold as he hesitated. “Maybe you should go to the ball.”

“What?” he snapped, turning to Jefferson. “You just agreed with me that it was a terrible idea to subject Belle to that viper’s pit, and now you’re suggesting I do exactly that?”

Jefferson smiled slightly. “Yes, I am, but what if - “

“Jefferson...”

“- what if...” he continued, ignoring Gold’s interruption, “you and Belle attended, and presented a very... united front? One that would imply the King would not have Belle’s approval for his proposal to the council.”

Gold looked out of the window at the snow heaped up over one of the planters as he pondered what Jefferson was suggesting. If the King got the impression that he and Belle were truly partners, that they were of one mind when it came to Avonlea, then it might be enough to thwart the entire effort for good. Without Belle to reinforce the assertion that Maurice was coerced into signing over his estate, the council could dislike him all they wanted, it would mean nothing.

“It could work,” he said finally. “Though it’s not without risk.”

“You would need to appear as aligned and together as possible,” Jefferson warned. “You know what the palace is like. Many eyes will be on you, both those you can see and those you can’t.”

Gold nodded. They would have to share meals, dances, everything including a room, the same as all the other couples. Everyone would be wondering about Belle, wanting to see how Lady Gold carried herself, and how they behaved together. It would be uncomfortable at best, and at worst she might return to Thornhill hating him. But Belle was strong willed and smart, and he believed she could do it, if she was willing.

Jefferson leaned to the side, bumping his shoulder against Gold’s. “You know it isn’t you I’m worried about, right?”

Gold glanced sideways at him. “I know. I will speak with Belle before dinner, let her decide how we proceed.”

Jefferson nodded, and left the room, leaving Gold alone to contemplate how to break the situation to his wife.

Belle sat tucked into the corner of the sofa in front of the fireplace of her library, several letters spread out on the cushion beside her.

Gold stopped in the half open doorway and knocked gently, a smile playing at his lips as he watched her. “May I come in?”

She looked up and grinned. “Of course. Come sit with me.”

“Heard from Desmond again?”

“Yes,” she sighed as she hurried to pick up and stack the papers she’d laid out.. “He wrote two days ago.”

Gold frowned and sat at the other end of the sofa. “Two days? Why did it take so long to arrive?”

Belle set the letters on the side table and then gave Gold a flat smile. “Apparently the road from Longbourne is nearly impassable with snow and ice.”

He made a face and shook his head. “Should have guessed. We’ve gotten quite a bit more since the solstice.”

“Apparently his son, Liam, took a hunting party out on Sunday, hoping for a deer or two,” she said, giving him a wry look. “But he lost his footing, slid down the side of the gulley, and nearly ended up in the river.”

“Good heavens,” Gold said with a light snort. “I presume he’s well?”

“He has a very hard head, he’ll be just fine.”

They laughed and then she added, “Unfortunately, they were only able to get two pheasants and a rabbit, and so the issues continue with supplies at Avonlea. It seems they can’t manage to find any good fortune of late.”

“Indeed,” he muttered. He let his gaze drift to the fire for a long moment as he pondered whether or not the news he brought and the question that came with it would help or hinder the situation.

Belle tilted her head and leaned forward, trying to catch Gold’s eye. He seemed preoccupied with something, and she hoped that he would tell her about it, whatever it was. “Cameron? Did you come find me because you couldn’t bear to wait until dinner to see me, or did you have something to ask?”

At the sound of his name he startled and then sighed. “Sorry. Yes, I have something to ask you, and no I could not bear to let it wait until dinner.”

She laughed again and shook her head, but then noticed he wasn’t smiling. “You seem...out of sorts? Are you well?”

Gold reached over and took her hand, giving it what he hoped was a reassuring squeeze. “I’m fine, I promise, but we have something to discuss that I thought was best kept between us.”

At that her expression turned serious, and she shifted closer, holding his hand with both of hers and resting their joined hands in her skirts. “What is it?”

“I’ve, uh, I’ve received an invitation,” he said, “from the King.”

Her body stiffened, and she knew he felt the change from the way he looked at her, the lines at his mouth betraying his concern. “I see.”

“It’s for the New Year’s ball, and in normal course I would politely decline, but given the circumstances I thought it might to our advantage to accept.”

Belle bit her lip and frowned as her thumb passed back and forth idly over his knuckles. “How so?’

“Jefferson received a letter this morning, from one of his sources in the palace,” Gold explained, lowering his voice as a precaution.

Even talking about their potential ruse within his own house made him uneasy. If Jefferson had spies within the palace, who was to say that the King hadn’t done the same in return? All of the staff, save Astrid, had been there for years, and were well vetted beforehand, but now that the thought was in his head, he couldn’t ignore the possibility.

“It seems,” he continued, watching Belle’s face as he spoke, “the King may be continuing his attempts to take over Avonlea. Word is that he is going to petition the Royal Council to grant him temporary control, on the assertion that your father was coerced into signing the contract with me.”

She blinked and her fingers stilled. “What?”

Gold swallowed and put his other hand over hers. “The King would need your support to have a chance of succeeding, which right now he believes he would have if he promised to turn over Avonlea to you, or your heir. And, not to put too fine a point on it, but there are enough on the council who dislike me, that they would happily go along with it, whether they believed your father was being taken advantage of or not.”

Belle blinked, her mind only registering that the torment which she had thought they’d laid to rest was back, full force. Immediately, she sprang to her feet, anger propelling her from her seat with her fists clenched at her sides. She could feel a heat creep up her neck and a fierce pounding in her chest that made her stalk towards the windows for relief. The cool air drifted over her skin, and though it did little to assuage her ire, it did make her feel a touch better. She breathed in and out and closed her eyes, until she felt a presence at her side.

“Belle?” came Gold’s soft voice.

“I’m fine.”

His hand touched the middle of her back with a gentle pressure. “No, you’re not not.”

She gave him a tired glance. “Sorry, I’m - I don’t know.”

“Do you want me to leave?”

She shook her head as her throat tightened. Many times she wished to be alone when she was like this, but right now she felt in great need of his company. “No, no, please don’t. I - I just need a moment.”

He waited patiently for her to collect herself, his hand began to move up and down, a soothing sensation against her back. Finally, she blew out a breath and turned towards him, standing no more than the length of their shoes apart.

“I’m sorry.”

Gold winced and caught her chin when she looked down, drawing her gaze back up. “None of that now.”

Belle closed her eyes. Her head felt heavy, and there was a disconcerting tension in her temples that felt like a belt cinched too tight. She knew it was her nerves getting the better of her, but that didn’t mean she could stop them from doing so. Cameron was calm and solid as he stood in front of her, as though nothing could move him from this spot except her word, and she gave in and let herself fall against him. Her forehead rested on the soft linen of his shirt as her fingertips brushed the paisley patterned stitching of his waistcoat. His arms came up around her, hands near her shoulders, holding her without crushing her to him, and after a long moment, she exhaled.

“Is there ever going to be an end to this?”

The words were muffled, but he could hear them clear enough and sighed. He wanted to tell her that it would, more than anything, that he would do whatever it took to achieve that peace for her, and, abruptly, he became aware that he would if she asked it of him. There were things he knew, things he could do that would upend the entire kingdom, and if that was what was needed, if this latest plan did not set the matter to rest for good, he would do it. Yet, he knew Belle would never ask for such a thing, not if she knew the chaos that would result. She was too good, and would see her own happiness lost before letting it come to that. It made his chest ache to

“I can’t answer that for certain, but I think if we were to attend the ball, we might be able to put it to rest, yes.”

She sniffed and looked up, surprised to see his face merely a breath from hers. His eyes were warm, his expression comforting, and the simple presence of his arms bolstered her. If they faced the King and the royal court together, it would send an unmistakable message. She could do this; they could do this. Suddenly, she was very glad she had married Cameron Gold, and her lips curved in spite of all her anxiety.

“Then we should go.”

His eyebrow quirked. “You don’t want to hear my reasoning?”

She nodded and stepped back, the chill of the window making her immediately miss the warmth of being near him. “I do, but I also trust you. I imagine that if we go, and make every effort to present ourselves as being truly united, then the King would know that no matter what he offered me, I would never agree to it.”

Gold’s mouth curved slowly as she spoke, marveling silently at how she had arrived at the same idea as Jefferson.

“What?” she asked as soon as she noticed him smiling.

He shook his head slowly. “You are brilliant, do you know that?”

She made a face and then let out a short laugh. “Well, I do try.”

“You know it won’t be easy,” he warned. “There will be all sorts of people there, friend and foe. The whispers and rumors, the politics...”

“I know.” She blew out a breath and nodded again, feeling strangely calm now that she had let herself think about things rather than just being angry and upset. “I’m not afraid of them.”

“Even Milton and Sir Gaston?”

Belle reached out and took hold of his hands. The mention of their names set her nerves on edge, but she could tell that it had less of an effect than even a week or two ago. She owed some of that to Cameron, and trusted that if he was by her side, then she could weather seeing a few unfriendly faces at a ball.

She lifted their hands out to either side and stepped closer. “I’m not going to let them deter me from having another chance to dance with my husband.”

His lips twitched, and he freed one of his hands to rest it at her back, lifting the other to the side as she came to stand toe to toe with him. They took a few small, circling steps together in the space between the windows and the end of the sofa, less wide and graceful than their previous dance together, but drawing smiles from both of them all the same. Once again, he surprised her with a brief spin, and her soft laugh settled his mind on the matter. They would attend the ball and leave no doubts as to where their alliances lay - with each other, and no one else.

Belle twirled back towards him, coming to rest with her hand on his chest, and immediately pushed up on her toes to press her lips to his cheek. When she dropped back, she was smiling, and he was gratified to see she had recovered from her earlier distress. Her faith in him seemed to be unwavering now, and he hoped that when all this was done it would remain so.

“So, we agree?” he asked, letting her pull away from their impromptu dance.

“Yes,” she said firmly. “We accept, and we put this nonsense to rest once and for all.”

“Then I shall reply immediately.” He gave her a brief bow, pleased at the way she rolled her eyes at him, but still smiled in spite of herself, and left her to finish reading her letters.

It was late, and Gold knew he should follow Jefferson and Belle’s examples and go to bed, but he had told Belle that he would reply to the King’s invitation and he was committed to doing so before the end of the day.

Unfortunately, the day had ended some hours ago, but before dinner there had been a frustrating matter with one of his tenants losing two horses that required a quick, coordinated search party to recover the animals. After dinner, the lure of cards with Belle and Jefferson was far greater than penning a perfunctory letter, but he was finished now and that was what mattered. He scrawled his signature at the bottom, and then scanned the page to ensure it had all of the required fluff and politeness.

He pushed to his feet, waving the paper idly to dry the ink, and crossed to a small table set in the corner between the bookcase and the window, tucked away where few would notice it. On it was an ornately carved box with a lock on the front, and he set the paper down next to it before reaching up to a shelf just over his head. He pulled out a book bound with green dyed leather and held it aside as he felt around on the small space its absence made on the shelf until he found what he was looking for.

The key was old and tarnished to an oily black, as was the lock it fit in, and he held his breath until it clicked open. It was a habit from so many years ago, and even now a faint smile graced his lips as he remembered the sly smile on his aunt’s face every time she pulled the box out from under her bed.

Gold opened the box and set the invitation card to the ball inside, pausing to stare at the small stack of papers inside. He swallowed hard and reached in, his fingertips lifting the card out of the way to reveal a letter, folded closed with the addressee and direction visible. His jaw clenched as he read the name for the hundredth time, penned elegantly above the broken wax seal of the royal house.

Lord Maurice Faure, Avonlea

Shaking his head, he pulled it out and then lifted up the rest of the papers inside the box to slip it back in at the very bottom. The invitation card went back on top, and he closed the lid of the box hard, exhaling heavily as he finally clicked the lock back in place. He quickly replaced the key on the shelf, followed by the book, and walked over to his chair by the fire. He lifted the glass of brandy he’d poured earlier and downed the rest of it one gulp, closing his eyes as it warmed its way down his throat.

He gave the fire a long look, and then his gaze shifted to the locked box across the room, wondering not for the first time if he shouldn’t burn the whole damn thing. Instead, he sighed and replaced the grate over the fireplace before heading off to bed.

#rumbelle #rumbelle fic #belle x mr. gold #arranged marriage au #my rumbelle fic #fic #in all things

[mollymauk-teafleak]

Help Wanted (chapter two)

Huge thanks again to @minky-for-short and @spiky-lesbian! Please consider leaving a comment on Ao3 if you can! 

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Chapters: 1 | 2

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Anyone who came into the Blooming Grove cafe and smelled the unmistakable scent of a freshly baked cherry and strawberry pie would probably think that was nothing but a positive. That the busy chef must have been in a particularly good mood, to fill the small space with such a fresh, sugary and all round lovely scent.

Beau knew better however.

She hadn’t puzzled out the reason why but she knew that cherry and strawberry pie was something Caduceus only made when he was stressed out. She’d smelled it a lot during his shaky first few months, when no one was really sure if the cafe had a future, before people realised the special kind of magic Caduceus imbibed it with that made people feel so at home when they were inside it’s walls. She also smelled it whenever Cad came into work holding a letter, always the same paper, always the same handwriting though she could never make out any words.

And she wouldn’t. She wasn’t a snoop. She just didn’t miss much.

Though she was pretty sure it had something to do with the very large family Cad would talk about often but whom she never saw visiting or calling or anything. Just those letters, one every few months, that would send Cad into a stress baking haze churning out pies but he’d keep it in his apron pocket like he was scared to let it out of his sight.

But today there was no mystery to why there was suddenly a slice of thick, red oozing delightfulness being set in front of her, dusted with sugar with fruit like shiny garnets. It was because of Fjord.

Beau smirked and dug in with her fork, watching Cad zip back and forth across the cafe like an anxious bee. It was just him and her in the cafe right now, it didn’t open for another two hours. Lucky she woke up so early to do her tai chi in the park with her girl. Well, one of her girls. Getting Jester out of bed before ten was a triumph, Yasha was much easier to coerce.

“If you clean up before he gets here, your new assistant ain't going to have anything to do,” she pointed out, around a mouthful of fruit and sugar.

Caduceus jumped guiltily, “I’m just...just doing odds and ends. I want to be able to show him around.”

Beau wasn’t sure how true that was. Everything about Cad except his words showed how unsettled he still was with the idea of being a two person team.

She rolled her eyes and jabbed her fork at him for emphasis, “Look, we know this place is your baby. We know what it means to you. So we absolutely would not have suggested Fjord if he wasn’t going to be perfect for the job! He’s obsessed with being competent, he’s chill with taking orders, he’s a people person, annoyingly organised, fuck this pie is really good, did you do something new?”

“Touch of balsamic vinegar,” Cad said absently, scratching at the little pink wisps of a beard that grew in when he didn’t trim it, “I’m not saying I don’t...he’s your friend so I want him to be my friend too, I’ve got every faith he’s a good guy but…”

“But you’re nervous,” Beau picks the words up for him, “And that’s fine. But you’re going to give this a shot, get used to it, see that it’s a great idea and everything will be fine. Seriously, I think you and Fjord will really get along.”

Cad’s ears flattened against his head and his eyes were big and doubtful, “I’m not so easy to get along with…”

Beau frowned at that, about to protest, when the bell above the door rang out, the door pushing back almost shyly, like it was scared into interrupt. And then there was Fjord, looking slightly more sunburnt and grizzled than he had the last time Beau saw him, dressed in the same ratty hoodie he used to have back in high school. His hair was in the same style, still short and shaved underneath, though part of it had turned white and he’d clearly not been cutting it while on that ship of his. Though he’d found the time to file his tusks down, they were barely visible.

“Hey man!” Beau jumped down and rushed to give him a quick hug and sock him in the arm, “Look who washed up ashore…”

Fjord laughed, aiming a punch in return that she dodged easily, “Well you’ve not changed at all. Such a shame. And this must be Caduceus…”

Beau turned to make her introductions and explain why the scruffy salt smelling individual was the hard worker she’d promised when Cad’s face stopped her. His ears were bolt upright now, jaw a little slack, a very obvious blush even under his grey fur. And his tail was whipping from side to side at a million miles per hour.

Beau smirked, pleasantly surprised. This was starting to look like a two birds, one stone situation.

“Yeah, it is. Fjord, meet Mister Caduceus Clay.”

You’re acting like a teenager.

Cad had told himself that half a hundred times in the last hour and it wasn’t doing any good. His heart was still going like a Madagascan sunset moth finding a grove of Omphalea plants, his face was ridiculously warm and he was going to have to tuck his tail into his dungarees if it didn’t stop or he was going to break a mug.

Yes, Fjord was handsome. Almost ridiculously so. Now he’d acknowledged that, he could move on and refocus on the extreme anxiety he’d been nursing since yesterday that his cafe was going to collapse and he’d broken all his promises to himself and he’d have to go back home with his tail between his legs. That, at least, had been productive.

“Okay, so this is where I keep all the flours,” he continued, showing the half orc around the kitchen, “I, um...I haven’t labelled any of them because I just had them memorised, I’ll fix that…and I’ll have to write down the recipes they go with too, I just memorised those as well…”

Fjord seemed a little alarmed, “Um...yeah, that would help, I think.”

“Have you ever baked before?” Cad asked, leaning against the stainless steel surface, nicked and scaped by years of use.

Fjord sucked on his lower lip, “Well, I know how to make ship rations taste semi okay? But I don’t think that counts as baking.”

Cad had to chuckle, “No but it does sound like a useful life skill. I’m kind of aiming for a higher caliber than ships rations around here.”

“I’ll say, that pie Beau was eating looked to die for.”

Cad felt his ears pick up, “Oh would you like some? I made, um...five this morning. No reason, I just felt like it.”

He was already moving before Fjord could answer, putting a slice on a nice plate, plenty of cream. His new assistant did look distinctly skinny, like he hadn’t been eating properly. They’d need to sort that out.

Fjord seemed bemused at the sudden appearance of a dessert, smiling crookedly, “Thanks! Looks really good.”

“So maybe I’ll focus on the food prep for a little while and you can handle the front of house until you get more comfortable in the kitchen,” Cad tried not to look like he was hovering, waiting eagerly for Fjord’s reaction to his food.

He wasn’t disappointed. Fjord’s eyes widened and he grinned, showing a pair of filed tusks Cad hadn’t noticed before.

“Wow! This is amazing!” he had the most lovely accent, from somewhere in the South, twanging and drawling in places, wandering like a hard to follow path, “I must say, I’ve never eaten anything as nice as that!”

You’re acting like a smitten teenager, stop it. Stop blushing!

“I don’t know about that,” he cleared his throat, tangling his hands in the strings of his apron, “But you’re very kind to say so.”

“I think I’m gonna like working here,” Fjords’ grin was lopsided and full of cheek, just as a dashing pirate’s would be. Then suddenly it faltered, like a curtain had ruffled in the breeze and revealed something completely different, scenery turning out to be nothing but a backdrop on a stage, “I mean, if you’re going to hire me.”

Cad found himself smiling, something stirring in his chest, something separate to the silly crush that had landed so suddenly in his lap, “Any friend of the Nein is my friend too. And I think I’d quite like to work with a friend.”

Fjord tilted his head to one side, looking delighted, “Y’know, that sounds mighty fine to me too.”

Cad’s fur puffed up around his neck, like it did when he was happy. Or startled.

“Yes! Okay, I’ll take you through the plant care schedule. That’s probably the most important thing.”

Fjord looked like he didn’t understand, eyes drifting over all of the greenery in the place. Even in the kitchen there were succulents in the window, the ivy running through the ceiling and the myriad of fresh vegetables and herbs in the greenhouse out the back door that Cad had managed to cram in their tiny courtyard (with a little magic assistance).

“Plant care? Don’t you just...water them?”

Cad started at him for a heartbeat then burst out laughing, Fjord’s expression only getting more confused.

He was going to enjoy it. But it was going to be hard work.

They were halfway through their first day as a two man operation and things were going rather well, as Cad was sternly telling whatever flickers of anxiety still flitted in his chest.

He was in the kitchen, gloves of flour and water pasted up to his elbows, rolling out rough into podgy rectangles. His ears flickered and tail swayed in time with the music, but his ears were listening to something else. Fjord’s voice, still a little jarring to hear when he wasn’t used to it, out at the counter, taking orders and calling them out. He flirted shamelessly, he charmed, he joked and laughed. Beau had been right, he was a people person. Cad had no doubt the tip jar would be bursting at the seams when he next checked it.

“Hey, Caddy!”

Cad turned from his dough to see Fjord in the doorway. His spare apron was clearly too big for the half orc, nearly touching the floor, but he hadn’t had time to make one for him. Tomorrow, he’d do it, now he knew his size.

Even so, with a cloth poking out from the pocket and a pad of paper in his hand and a little pencil behind his ear, Fjord almost looked like he belonged.

“This nice lady’s asking for chamomile and apple tea,” he called over the chatter from the customers beyond, “Whereabouts would that be?”

Cad gave an apologetic smile. Another thing that was apparently unlabelled were the nearly hundreds of tea tins that sat in haphazard rows, making the place look like an apothecary. Something else he needed to do. And maybe he’d actually have the time to now.

“Third shelf down, fourth tin from the left,” Cad closed his eyes to picture it, just to make sure he got it right. Some of the things in those tins were more...experimental blends. He couldn’t imagine them going down very well.

“Gotcha,” Fjord flashed him that grin again, “Thanks Captain.”

“I told you, you don’t have to call me that,” Cad called after him, laughing.

You really, really need to stop.

But the strange thing was, the voice was getting quieter every time. Part of Cad was wondering why he had to stop at all. Wasn’t this part of the reason he’d left the grove- the actual grove? He’d wanted freedom, to see how it felt to be Caduceus rather than just a Clay. He’d wanted some control over his own life and choices.

Maybe there were some choices he hadn’t even known he’d get. Possibilities he hadn’t considered.

Now Cad was smiling as he rolled out his squares of focaccia, ready to sprinkle with cracked pepper and salt and herbs. He’d make an extra for Fjord to take home, maybe he’d like that. Suddenly he wanted to know everything about him, his tastes and likes and dislikes, what he did in his spare time, what he looked like just out of bed.

He was definitely acting like a smitten teenager in the spring. But he didn’t think that was such a bad thing now.

The rest of the day went alright. There were bumps in the road, of course. A tray of croissants got burned when Fjord lost track of himself bussing tables but he was incredibly apologetic and offered to remake them. Not that he had the first clue how to shape them. But maybe Cad could show him?

But it had been an incredibly busy day of rare sunshine and clear skies and Cad didn’t feel like he was running on empty at the end of it. That was certainly a success of some sort.

Members of the Nein had been coming in ones and twos all day to yell in delight at the sight of Fjord, home again. It was nice to see, a missing piece coming back to where it was supposed to be, fitting in like it had never been away. It sat a little melancholic in Cad’s chest, for a reason he was very aware of but didn’t want to think about so he’d pretend he didn’t know. But then he’d get swept up in it, Jester or Molly or Veth bringing him over to share in the happiness and he would feel so much better.

Those had been bright spots in the constant tide of conversation that flowed through the Grove. And now Caduceus was wiping down the surfaces in the kitchen, Fjord out front handling the last of the customers, mostly people swinging by to pick up something for their dinners. The light was heady and orange again, all the light and none of the warmth as the end of the day brought cooler breezes than before, chasing away the lingering heat.

And Cad’s ears picked up again as the conversation changed, as Fjord’s voice changed from the customer service voice he’d easily slipped on that morning. And Cad followed eagerly, only realising when he got to the doorway of the kitchen that there were no members of the Nein left to come see Fjord.

Instead there was an elven woman behind the counter, immediately stunning in appearance with her fountain of red curls, impressive even with them tied in a knot at the nape of her neck. Standing there she seemed so sure, effortless, her posture somehow arrogant and challenging. She was dressed in sea colours, a long scarf wound once round her neck and loosely draped over her shoulders like a snake and her hat would have been ridiculous on anyone else who didn’t wear it with such simple confidence.

Cad’s ears picked up at their continued conversation, Fjord speaking. From behind, he seemed tense, like something had set him on guard.

‘You don’t have to be a jerk, Avantika,” Fjord was saying, “I actually had a really good day. I think I like working here.”

“Well,” the elf’s voice was liquid gold, her accent very different from Fjord’s, “It’ll do. We’ll get you back on the waves soon, dear. No need to convince yourself.”

“I’m not…” Fjord’s voice hardened but then he seemed to decide it wasn’t worth it, letting go, “I’m going to close up then I’ll be back at your place. Thanks again for...for letting me stay.”

“Pleasure’s all mine, dear,” the woman seemed to always have other words lurking behind the one’s she spoke, “Don’t be too late. I’m not in the mood to wait up.”

“Right,” his reply was short and clipped, still in the tone of not wanting a fight.

And then he leaned forward, over the counter, and kissed her. Not a long kiss and Fjord’s shoulders stayed tense but there it was. And Cad fled back into the kitchen.

“Remember, don’t be late,” he heard her reply and the click of boots on the wooden bloor, the bell ringing out her departure.

Fjord came in a little while later, apparently not noticing that Cad had been wiping down the same four workbenches for nearly fifty minutes.

“Okay, that’s eight,” he said brightly, like the exchange had never happened, “Gonna teach me how to clear up?”

Cad looked up, his smile thin and tired, “You know, I think I’ve filled your head with enough today. We can cover that tomorrow, why don’t you head out early. I can take care of things here.”

Fjord paused, looking a little dismayed, “I mean...if you’re sure? I really don’t mind.”

Cad cut across his gentle protest before he could talk himself into staying, “It’s only your first day. I’m not looking to scare you off already. Go on, get a good night’s sleep and I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

Fjord blinked, nodding slowly, “Right. Okay...um, thanks, Cad.”

Cad gave a nod and a non committal wave, turning back to his work.

“I really mean it,” Fjord unwound the ties of his apron, tied in the front just the way Cad had shown him, “I had a great day today and I learned a lot. Thank you.”

Cad made himself look up, really look at Fjord, standing in his kitchen doorway, flour on his sleeves and hair pushed back awkwardly with a bandanna. And he smiled, softer this time.

“You’re welcome, Fjord. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Looking happier, Fjord grabbed the bag he’d come in with and gave him a wave, heading out. And Cad still watched, still smiled. And he felt like an idiot.

I told you so.

#teahaw #fjorclay #pining #coffee shop au #slow burn #modern au #critical role #cr: fjord #cr: caduceus

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Convince Me To Go {2}

AU Chris Evans x Reader

Warning: Mild Cursing, Slow Burn

Words: 2.3k

Summary: When we run away, we’re usually running from something. This time you may have run toward it instead.

Note: Welp. 🤷🏾‍♀️  I hope you enjoy this.

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

“So, what’ll it be?” The bartender asked just as you and your knight in shining armor got situated.

 “Lemon water and a napkin if you have, please.”

 “Lemon water?”

 “Yeah, lemon is a good antiseptic, you know for his—” You motioned to his face. The woman nodded and wrote it down.

 “And to drink? This ain’t urgent care.”

“Three rounds of Gin for me, and for the lady?”

 He looked at you with both eyebrows raised.

“Coconut rum please.”

 “Three rounds of coconut rum. All right.”

 The bartender nodded and walked away to gather your order.

 “I did not peg you as a rum woman.”

 “No? white wine, or chardonnay maybe?” He smiled and shook his head.

 “As I said, you know nothing about me.”

 “All right let’s start with your name. What’s your name?”

 You thought about it. If he knew your name, he could easily search you across social media. You didn’t want that happening. “No names.”

 His eyebrows shot up again. “No names. Huh, kinky.”

 You laughed and shook your head.

 “So, what do I call you?”

You shrugged. “You pick.”

 He gave an exaggerated facial expression that said he was thinking extra hard. He looked goofy, but through the goofiness, he was still cute.

 “You know what, I think I’ll stick with fancy.”

 You rolled your eyes.

 “Not so fancy anymore, my shoes are ruined, stockings ripped, I’m a mess.”

 “Clothes don’t make the woman fancy. The woman makes the woman.”

 You leaned closer to him and looked into his eyes. “Are you concussed?”

 He snorted and laughed heartily and slapped his hand across his chest. He threw his head back and gave you a good view of his perfect teeth. You couldn’t help but smile a little too. The bartender returned with a tray full of drinks and the lemon water.

 “Also found a first aid kit behind the bar.”

 “Thank you.”

She walked off again and you opened the kit and surveilled the items inside. You took out a Band-Aid, some ointment, everything else was absent. When you looked back to him his eyes were glued to you.

 “What?”

 “Nothing. All right fancy nurse, do your worst.”

 You smiled and scooted closer to him as he leaned over the table. You dipped the napkin into the lemon water and dabbed his eyebrow. He barely flinched as you wiped the superficial wound.

 “Good news, it doesn’t look deep enough that you’ll need stitches,” you announced.

 “Yay.”

 “No stitches mean barely a scar which means your pretty face will remain intact.”

 “You think I have a pretty face?” Your eyes met as your hands stilled.

 “uh—well, um, I didn’t mean it literal. It’s a thing you say.”

 “I’ve never heard anyone say that thing unless it was meant that way,” he contested.

 “Well, now you have.”

 You dropped your hands and examined the wound on his cheekbone then proceeded to clean it as well. This you did in silence. After a few moments, you decided the band-aid would be better for his cheekbone rather than his eyebrow due to the hair.

 “All right, all done. You may have to clean that eyebrow once more, but it’ll be fine.”

 “What no kiss for the boo-boo?”

You smirked and gave him a small eye roll. “You’ll live.”

He smiled and nodded his head. “Thank you.” You nodded as you wiped your hands.

 “It’s the least I could do. I should be thanking you.”

 “Let’s call it even. A toast?” he held up one of his glasses of Gin. You mirrored him with your rum.

 “To muggers, brawls in the snow and drinks with beautiful women.” You crinkled your eyebrow.

 “That is a horrible toast.”

 He shrugged and knocked the drink back. You took your time with a sip.

 “So, what’s your story Fancy?”

 “Fancy, so that’s the name you’re sticking with?”

 He nodded. “Maybe you should pick yours.”

 “Anything I want?”

 “Anything you want,” he repeated.

 You rubbed your chin and thought about it purposefully.

 “Hmm, decisions, decisions.”

 “Maybe I can give you a few suggestions. What about valiant, you know like Prince Valiant who charged into a sword battle with six captors all for his fair maiden.”

 “Nope.”

 “All right, what about Phillip, like Prince Phillip who won Aurora’s heart and helped her save the kingdom.”

 “Uh—hard pass.”

 “Well, then it has to be Triton, like King Triton the king of the seas, he who has the power to control it?”

 “I thought that was Poseidon.”

 “No one cares about Poseidon, it’s King Triton.”

 “Again, nah. I got it. Ready?”

 “Let’s hear what’s better than all my fantastic suggestions.

 You smiled so ready to dash all his hopes. “Puppy.”

 Any humor on his face immediately fell.

 “Puppy? As in an animal?”

 “Yes, why not.  Puppies are energetic, humorous, defensive, always there to help, they pop up out of nowhere are ready for treats.

“How is that me?”

 “You’re clearly energetic, it’s after two in the morning and you’re awake, you seem to think you’re funny with how you always try to read me, you just showed your defensiveness by fighting off my mugger, which also ticks off there to help,” you explained.

 “What about ready for a treat and pops up from nowhere?”

 “Dude you came out of nowhere just now, and as soon as the task was finished your first suggestion was me buying you a drink, hence a treat. I think it sums you up quite well.”

 He didn’t look amused which made you even more amused.

 “So, you skip over all the princes to puppy?”

 “I mean I can add prince in there, prince puppy. Has a nice ring to it.”

 He snorted and shook his head. “Ya know what, whatever you want fancy.”

 “Puppies are always eager to please too.”

 He nodded and took another of his drinks and downed it. you smiled to yourself as you drank your own drink.

 “So we’ve established you’re not from Boston, you’re from New York. What’re you doing in Boston?”

 You didn’t answer right away, you continued to sip your drink not sure you wanted to open this can.

 “Sightseeing.”

 “In Boston? What sights exactly?”

 “Oh you know, Fenway Park.”

 “Uh-huh, what else?”

 “You know the home of coffee; you know bean town.”

 “You know nothing about Boston huh?”

 “Nope.”

He laughed again and shook his head.

 “No one comes to Boston dressed like that to sightsee. Look, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t wanna. I’m not trying to get your life story. Just making conversation.”

 “Are you from here?”

 “Born and raised. I left for a few years but I’m back now.”

 “Where did you go off to?”

 “New York.” He knocked back the third glass and stood. “See, Boston always welcomes the runaways.” He walked away to the bar and you looked after him.

 Maybe he was a semi-good reader of people. Your phone rang again, and you sighed. When you took it out this time the name on the screen was your father. No doubt your mother had gotten him into things. Your father could ride the slippery slope between good cop and coerced bad cop very well. You didn’t know if he were calling as that genuinely good cop or the coerced bad cop. You didn’t want to chance it, you tapped dismiss.

 “Either that is your actual daddy or you’re one of those women who call their paramours daddy.”

 He slipped back into his seat with hands filled with six new glasses. You dropped your phone back into your purse and took your last drink and knocked it back. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” He smiled and shrugged.

 “Every woman is a mystery until you unravel the thread.”

 “Why did you leave New York?”

 “When you tell me why you did, I’ll tell you why I did.”

 The two of you stared each other down. Neither of you wanted to back out.

 “What do you do in New York?”

 “I work in real estate.”

 He nodded again. “Ah, a baby tycoon living the real life of Monopoly.”

 You scoffed. If he only knew how right he was.

 “Do you like real estate?”

“It’s all right. It’s what I’m good at I guess.”

 “I’m sure you’re good at plenty of things,” he theorized.

 “Not plenty. I know I do a few things really well. I can negotiate a contract well, I have a good eye for understanding what is trending and what will trend, and I am good at inciting a bidding war to puff a final offer. I’m also good at being the perfect daughter. That I excel at with flying colors.” You knocked back one of the glasses he’d placed on the table and grimaced when you tasted it was Gin.

 “Uuugh, that’s disgusting.”

 “You get used to it.” He drank from one of the glasses and bobbed his head from side to side.

 “That’s fruity and very sweet. I see why you like it.”

 You drank another in silence, you could feel his eyes on you.

 “That can’t be the only thing you’re good at. What about hobbies, things you do for fun outside of closing deals and starting wars.”

 You smiled and shrugged. You really didn’t have time to do many things that were fun. You always had responsibilities. Either you had to be here or there for the image of the family or you were on someone’s arm for the benefit of another. It was exhausting.

 “Come on. Cook?”

 “I’m a horrible cook. I burned boiled eggs once.”

 “That is very sad. Moving on, drawing?”

 “Do stick figures count?”

 “Appalling. Maybe athletic stuff, running, bench pressing, squats?”

 “I see we’re lowering the bar now. Nope, never been into the whole athletic thing. I can run pretty far in heels though. Oh, I have also been given first prize in the Westchester Beauty Pageant four years in a row.”

 “Well, all right that’s something. You must have been good at it four years is impressive.”

 You smiled and he hit your glass before he guzzled it empty. You did the same and knocked back another.

“If you mix it, it’s not half bad.”

 “What else are you good at?”

 “Nothing. My mother said she was happy I was born pretty because then I wouldn’t have to be good at anything to make it far in life. She said my beauty was all I needed to master. So I mastered it. My body is—an Egyptian temple of paradise, my face without a scar. My mother is a very vain woman.”

 He didn’t know what to say. That seemed like something deeply personal but also sad. You were right, you were beautiful. He’d noticed you within seconds of you walking into the bar. It was hard not to. He also sensed there was a lot more to you than just your looks, there had to be.

 “What about you? What are you good at?”

 “Everything. I’m a skilled conversationalist, Fantastic son, brother, and uncle, I volunteer, donate and pay my taxes and I am an unbelievable lover. So there check, check, check.”

 “Oh wow. All of that?”

 He nodded and leaned back. “What can I say?”

 “And an unbelievable lover? Wow, what makes you so unbelievable?”

 “Ah, I can’t tell my secrets. Plus, it’s not something I can tell, these skills have to be shown.”

 Again, your eyes met and remained on each other. A phone rang and he sighed out before he dug in his pocket and looked at his screen. He looked stressed for a few moments before he tapped a button and put the phone back in his pocket.

 “Sorry about that.”

 “A better way to avoid them is to turn it off completely. They’ll get the message loud and clear.”

 He smiled and nodded, hearing his own words come back to him.

 “You know what. You’re right.” He took back out his phone and turned it off showing you the proof of it powering down. “Your turn.”

 You scoffed but didn’t move. You didn’t want to talk to anyone, but you didn’t know if you wanted to be unreachable. Plus, you didn’t know this man, he could kidnap you.

 “I won’t kidnap you.”

 You smirked and shook your head and dug into your purse.

 “This is insane.”

 “Let’s be insane together.”

 You pressed the power off button, and he smiled as he saw it power down. You dropped it back into your purse and smiled.

 “Plus, we both know you weren’t going to answer any of those calls anyway. We can both worry about it tomorrow.”

 “Tomorrow?”

 “Yeah, we have—” He looked at his watch and bobbed his head from side to side. “Five and a half, six hours until a new day begins, I am free for the night, you’re in town with nowhere to go. Whattaya say?”

 “What do I say to what?”

 “Wanna spend the night with me in a completely nonpredator, non-sleazy way?”

 You studied him. He was serious about this.

 “We’re complete strangers. That’s nuts.”

 “No more nuts than first dates where you do the exact same thing. Oftentimes while you’re wishing you were somewhere else. At least we both know we have nowhere else to be and are doing it willingly.”

 “So this is a first date now?”

 “I’m turning over a new leaf and I’m not into labels. I call it two like-minded adults enjoying each other’s company. I can guarantee that by the time we say goodbye you’ll have found something you’re good at.”

 “That’s a hefty promise there prince puppy.”

 “It is one I am completely comfortable making, fancy.”

 You smiled and looked down at your left hand and leaned back in your chair.

 “Come on, don’t make this a big deal. It’s not.”

 “Fine.”

 He smiled again and it made you smile along with him. It was a beautiful smile, one you liked seeing. He then finished the remaining two drinks on the table and stood.

 “Our adventure awaits.” He dropped a hundred-dollar bill onto the table and held out his arm for you. You locked yours with his and the two of you walked out into the snowy cold night.

~~~~~~~~~

***If you want to be tagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!! ❤️❤️

~~~~~~~~~

TagList: 

@chaneajoyyy @sonjashuterbugjohnson @caramara3 @vannahvannahhh @academic-glowup @lorainnebabyy @patzammit @yourwonderbelle @pennywisesmistress @theblulife @kelbabyblue @bugngiz @disneysdarlingdiva @toniilaney @areubeingserved @thinkxlovexloud @cocothewriter @periodtcevans @southerngracela @bellaamor88 @titty-teetee @pananegra @wellthirsted @sup3rn0va13 @hello-therree  @squeackygee @ab-baybay @zsuzstyina @peggy-potts @amelatonin @lvlyab @sullyosully @renesmeeharelds @capslut2014 @90sinspiredgirl @missyperle @mizcaptainwidow @angrybirdcr @chrisgalore  @marvelfansworld @blowmymbackout @impossiblegiantrebelbasketball  @momobaby227 @rynabarnesrogers @blowmymbackout @heladoom @alyxkbrl @evemej @jennmurawski13 @straightforwardly @titty-teetee @chris-butt

#convince me to go fic #Chris Evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x black reader #angst fanfic #slow burn fanfic

[musicblogwales]

Track By Track: Quiet Marauder - ‘Tiny Men Parts’ EP

Today Quiet Marauder release their brand new ‘Tiny Men Parts’ EP via Bubblewrap Collective. We caught up with Simon Read from the band to give us a track by track insight into the wild and wacky world of the mighty QM.  THE BUSINESS DEAL: When we first started Quiet Marauder as an active live band, there were three of us involved and this was one of our first co-writing efforts. The song channels the darkness of characters in American Psycho and Wall Street, how their overconfident facades could easily slip into derangement. A lot of the tracks on our debut MEN were focused on these types of characters: menacing, brooding and celebrating their own outrageous behaviour with cocktails of drugs.

I WANT A MOUSTACHE, DAMMIT: I met a chap called Solomon in a bar in Cardiff who told me about his plans to write a musical about Gummo - a really strange cult film starring Chloe Sevigny. There’s a scene in it where a kid keeps saying that they ‘want a moustache, dammit, like Burt Reynolds’ so this became the central core of the song we ultimately came up with. Playing it live, we often give audience members their own Burt Reynolds face masks, ask them to chew through his eyes, and then put their tongues through the holes that are left. It still amazes me that we have such a high conversion rate of people doing this, but there is no better sight in the world than a room full of Burts all with tongues for eyes.

RODA & THE BUNKER: This was part of a collaboration with a young adult fiction writer called Lucy Christopher. She asked me to write some songs to accompany a book she had written called The Killing Woods about teenagers playing dangerous, dark games in a forest. I guess this track is about how those hormones can overspill into damaging, frightening and intimidating behaviours.

IT WASN’T ME, IT WAS THE MOON: For me, this track epitomises some of the core issues of our MEN album and subsequently Tiny Men Parts. This was intended as a critique of the duplicity embedded into our interactions, our attempts to manipulate or coerce others into doing things. Also, though, it’s about our willingness to blame situations and events on almost everything but ourselves and how, if you take that to the extreme, it grows increasingly mad and ridiculous.

THE INTERNAL MONOLOGUE DATE: My internal conversations are, at once, horrifying and bewildering. I’ve gotten accustomed to them being that way over time and, I hope, learned how to stop my mouth from talking before my brain has fully considered what is about to happen next. This wasn’t always the case, though, and back when I was single and dating I would commonly find myself saying something completely inappropriate by accident. This track takes this idea to extremes that I’ve thankfully never reached in real life. Dirty talk really doesn’t suit me somehow, I think I might sound too sarcastic for it to be effective.

LUCKY TONIGHT: The classic lad banter of ‘I’m feeling lucky tonight’ has always baffled me. I remember someone saying before a night out ages ago that they were looking to get lucky with a lady before dawn. While everyone else laughed, I started thinking to what extent this chap may try to influence his own ‘luck’ by doing some bad, bad things. So this is the extremity of the ‘lucky tonight’ position laid bare; the protagonist in the song will do literally anything to ensure their luck comes through.

THE ANIMALS ARE SPYING ON ME: I love animals. Pretty much every animal is outrageously cool. But the thought of all animals organising themselves collectively is also an incredibly daunting one for me. I was confronted by issues of these nature when I was looking at a cat from out of my window. He or she was sat in my garden, preening him or herself, when a large pigeon flew down and sat next to him. I’d heard stories about putting cats amidst pigeons and was expecting carnage, but the pigeon and the cat just looked at each other and then turned their heads towards me and started walking towards the window. I freaked out and closed the blinds and then wrote this song.

EGGS!: The full Cardiff band really did a number on this one. It has morphed from its original incarnation as a one-man, lo-fi acoustic oddity into a pop-punk tour de force which I absolutely adore. This was written on the way back from a stag do in Devon. Me and my travelling partner were listening to Radio 4 and there was a documentary about eggs on, which seemed to go on for about two hours. I couldn’t believe there was so much to say about eggs but it just kept going. Most of the eggs listed in the song were genuine phrases lifted from that documentary. But then I made quite a lot up too.

I WANT A MOUSTACHE, DAMMIT (DANCE REMIX): Myself and Reginald Foxwell from My Name Is Ian often do duo shows together where, without the full regalia of the six-piece band, we are more reliant on keyboards and acoustic type instruments. On our 2019 tour we introduced this version of I Want A Moustache, Dammit to some unsuspecting parts of the UK - predominantly through Reginald’s clever fingers - and we all fell in love with its stupidity. Casio keyboard backing tracks are the cornerstone of modern indie-pop.

Released by Bubblewrap Collective, Tiny Men Parts was be preceded by digital single ‘The Animals Are Spying on Me’, lyrically about human capability for irrational and yet somehow intractable paranoia. Following that the full EP, arriving in limited edition heavyweight white ‘fried egg’ vinyl with accompanying ‘real man’ temporary tattoos is out today.

Quiet Marauder are: Simon M. Read: Vocals, acoustic guitar Ian Williams: Vocals, electric guitar Rowan Liggett: Vocals, bass guitar John Whittles: Drums Francesca Dimech: Vocals, trumpet, melodica Kadesha Drija: Vocals, percussion

Buy it here: https://album.link/gb/i/1535505155

https://quietmarauder.co.uk

https://bubblewrapcollective.co.uk

#Quiet Marauder #Bubblewrap Collective #Tiny Men Parts EP

[bardsemporium]

Clarity

So in an effort to entice him to be a good boy for me and let me +10 merge him, I wrote something spicy for Dima. I wouldn’t normally cross post between here and Ao3, but I have this writing blog and I’m not using it, so it’s not hurting anything.

The character I used for this is actually part of a bigger project I’m working on. If anyone is interested in it, I might start making posts about the changes I’m making to 3H’s world here. 

Lewd below the cut. If you want to avoid my spicy writing, please add the tag ‘lemons’ to your blacklist. If you want to request something, feel free.

They fell together in a tangle of limbs, and Dimitri’s hand flew up to cradle the back of her head. She landed on her back with a grunt in a cloud of dust, swearing quietly as he caught himself on his free hand, just enough to avoid crushing her under his weight. She lay panting under him, her pale cheeks flushed and sweaty, her inky fringe plastered to her forehead. Her chest heaved, her breasts brushing his chest with their every breath.

“Mitya?” she asked, her dark brows pulling down in concern.

His head drooped, and he took a deep, gulping breath as her scent—wisteria and the rainy, electric smell of magic—hit him. She felt so warm against him. She’d always been cool to the touch, but there under him, her eyes glinting in the lamplight like shards of fine blown glass, she was so very warm.

Kiss her…

He relaxed against her, shuddering at the feeling of her thighs cradling his hips. She gasped quietly, her fingers digging into his shoulders before her arm draped comfortably across the back of his neck, her thighs squeezing his waist, her skin hot as a brand against his.

“Ronnie…” he mumbled, his forehead pressing against hers. Her breath swept across his lips and smelled of lemon and that bergamot tea she was so fond of. He hadn’t liked the smell of it until then, and he hated that he couldn’t taste it.

Go ahead. Kiss her.

He jerked back as his uncle’s voice echoed in his mind. He had desired her as he did. He’d wanted her Crest, her youth, her family’s secrets. He couldn’t do this to her… did he not bring that vile man back to her mind? She’d never spoken of it, but he knew he’d coerced her in some manner at least. She blinked up at him, dazed and flushed anew. She looked beautiful… but he couldn’t let himself have such a joy.

“I’m sorry! I don’t know what came over me, I’m… I’m so clumsy. Here, let me help you up!” He tugged her to her feet and stepped away respectfully.

“Are you well? What was all that about?” she asked.

“Er… nothing. I think I’m just tired. I’m… going to go get cleaned up and try to take a nap. Excuse me!”

He rushed away, leaving her there in her confusion. Shame and need pumped through him, leaving him feeling hot and flustered for reasons that had nothing to do with their match. He sped down the cobbled path, past Sylvain and Felix, ignoring every friendly call or surprised question. He needed to hide for a bit. He could feel a beast of quite a different nature stirring just under his skin. His groin ached and his stomach twisted as he thought once more of Veronica and her pretty, petal pink lips. It was so easy to imagine them wrapped around his--

Stop it.

His heart fell. He had no right to think these sorts of things. He’d been horrible to her. He’d been at once possessive and cold, and now he thought he’d earned the right to want her so basely? He truly was more of a monster than first thought. Felix was right, there was no going back. His humanity was forfeit… but… even knowing that did little to help his current situation. He could feel himself—hard and hurting—straining against his trousers. He needed to get rid of the feeling if he wanted to think clearly again.

He took the stairs two at a time, rushing towards his room with a prayer that no one would stop him. It would be impossible to miss just how affected he was.

His door snapped shut behind him—harder than he meant to—and he sagged against it with a sigh. He bit down on his lip and closed his eye, trying to banish all of his lewd thoughts, but he couldn’t. They remained lodged in his mind like stubborn splinters. He couldn’t get the feeling of her heated skin and honey sweet breath out of his mind.

He whimpered as his cock twitched at the memory of her quick panting, and his skin prickled at the memory of her thighs squeezing his waist. If he searched his thoughts, the scent of her came easily. Sweet, heady, and floral, his head spun in its wake.

He kicked off his boots, shucked his shirt over his head, and stumbled towards his bed, allowing himself to fall upon his back. He groaned and dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. It felt good on the left, but rubbing the right hurt so he stopped before he could do more damage to it. Her soft, ample breasts came to mind immediately as he was no longer occupied. A soft whine whistled through his clenched teeth.

He wanted to feel their weight in his hands, to feel her soft skin against his lips, to see lovebites blooming across her smooth, oleander skin as he sucked and nipped to mark her as his.

He couldn’t take it anymore. He needed this to end or else he would do something foolish. He reached down and tugged the laces loose, a grateful sigh breezing past his lips. He pushed the fabric away and his cock sprang free, already leaking and flushed.

What would she think of it? Would it put her off? Would she take it in her hands enthusiastically? He wrapped his hand around himself and squeezed at the base, moaning quietly at the sensation. Her hand wouldn’t be big enough to do so completely, but he knew he would prefer her touch. Her hand, though calloused and strong, was slender and long fingered—the once dainty hand of a Lady.

He considered her lips again, stroking himself from root to tip, catching the bead of precum that had gathered at the tip with his thumb, smearing it downward. She would look lovely on her knees before him, her lips red and swollen from his eager kisses as she hollowed her cheeks with a hard suck. His hips twitched, but he held himself back. There was no need to rush, she certainly wouldn’t.

He slowed his pace as he imagined a different ending to their bout. He tested the waters, pressing a kiss to the corner of her lips. Her arms tightened around his neck, her spine curving upwards as she turned her head to capture his mouth in a deep, needy kiss. He moaned softly, the image of them entangled in such a public place bringing him a shameful sort of excitement. His hands would wander, finding her hips in a desperate rush.

“Not here,” she would whisper, always the sensible one.

He would take her hand and haul her to her feet, and they would rush away to his bedroom together; past their friends and their knowing smiles and amused giggles. Her back would meet the door, her hips rocking against his as they kissed again and again, and then he would move them to the bed, keeping her close as he herded her backwards. She would cling to him, laughing as her back hit the mattress, his hand once again cradling the back of her head.

“I love you,” he murmured. It was the truth. It felt as though he had loved her his entire life--before then, even--though in truth, it had only been a few years; but years of yearning could turn the minutes to hours.

“I love you too,” she whispered in return.

Their clothes fell away in short order, tossed aside without care in favor of exploring one another. Her fingers trailed over his scars with affection rather than revulsion, her lips finding his scarred eyelid. He did the same for her. She gasped quietly as he moved downward, his mouth hot and wet on her throat, and then her breasts. His mouth closed around the rosy peaks, his tongue swirling and teeth scraping. He longed to taste her, but he liked to imagine that she tasted as sweet as she smelled, with a hint of salty sweat. Her sighs and shuddering gasps increased as he made his way lower.

“May I?” he asked. She smiled and tucked his hair behind his ear, her touch gentle and loving.

“Of course.”

He parted her folds with careful fingers, dragging his tongue across her tight, hot entrance before finding the prize just a little higher up. She smelled as divine as she ever did, and the headiness of sex made him lightheaded. Her fingers buried themselves in his hair as he lapped and sucked at her. Her thighs trembled as he teased her with the tip of his tongue, but he soon gave her what she needed. He drew her clit into his mouth and sucked gently, his finger sliding inside her. She was soaked and slick, her voice soft and breathy as he chased her pleasure.

He added a second finger, stretching her to prepare her for his cock. She keened softly, her fingers tightening in his hair. Her back arched, her voice pitching higher as she drew closer to the edge. She came with a moan, his name tumbling from her lips like a prayer. She looked thoroughly debauched, not unlike she had in the Knight’s Hall, but now only because of him.

“Mitya…” she reached for him and he lowered himself over her, kissing her deeply. If she minded the taste of herself in his mouth, she said nothing. Her thighs once again cradled his hips, but the heat was so much more intense now that they were skin to skin. “Make love to me,” she murmured, squeezing him tightly. He could feel her soaking folds against the length of his cock, and in that moment, nothing else mattered. He could never deny such an earnest request from his Lady.

Reality returned for a moment as he heard Sylvain’s door open and close. He bit down on the fleshy space between his thumb and forefinger to silence any unseemly noises and picked up the pace, his mind finding his fantasy quickly.

He eased himself inside her, helped along by just how soaked she was. It was a point of genuine pride that he could do this to her. Once settled, he waited. He would never be a brute, he would give her time to adjust to his girth. Soon she was rolling her hips against his and scraping her nails along his back. The bed jolted at the first thrust of his hips and her moan and the sound of flesh striking flesh shattered the silence. He set a lazy pace, taking his time with her. He wanted this to last.

Soon she was winding up tight once more, her walls already beginning to flutter around him. She whined and begged him to fuck her. Harder. Faster. So he obliged. Their hips met ruthlessly, his fingers pressing into her hip bones hard enough to leave bruises behind, but she uttered no complaint.

He was close. Everything in him was molten hot and tight. He whispered a warning, and she wrapped her legs tightly around his waist, pressing him deep inside.

“Stay,” she pleaded, arching as she came undone under him. Once again, he couldn’t deny her. He met his end with a shudder and a low moan of her name.

He spilled himself over his knuckles and stomach, his chest heaving as he rode the wave of pleasure. His mind went blissfully silent, clear for the first time since all this had begun. He had overreacted again. If she hadn’t wanted his attention, she would have said so. Veronica was not a woman easily forced into things. He smiled ruefully as he imagined the exasperated interrogation he would no doubt get later and struggled to his feet on unsteady legs. There was no reason to lounge around covered in his own seed. The quicker he got cleaned up and faced her, the better.

A knock on the door sent him scrambling to his washroom with a hissed string of curses falling from his mouth as he scrubbed away the evidence of his lusty imaginings.

“Just a minute!” he called, stepping into a clean pair of trousers, and shrugged on a clean shirt. He opened the door and his heart plummeted. Veronica stood there in all her splendor, freshly bathed and dressed in a finely tailored emerald green jacket. He knew her trousers stretched perfectly across her plump, perky rear. Just the thought of it and what he could do with her fine silk ascot was enough to get him feeling hot all over again.

“May I come in?” she asked. He swallowed and nodded, stepping aside for her. Goddess, he hoped he didn’t smell too much like sex.

“Are you well, Ronnie?” he asked.

“Perfectly, I just thought that maybe you’d like to…” she came to stand toe to toe with him, reaching out to brush a lock of hair behind his ear, “finish what you started.” Her words went straight to his cock, and he shuddered in response. “Unless you’ve tired yourself out, of course.” She gave him a cheeky grin, and he felt color rise in his cheeks.

“I would… like that very much.” He would show her just how much it would take to tire him out. They would see who tapped out first.

#dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #dimitri fire emblem #dimitri fe3h #dimitri fe #fire emblem #Fire Emblem Three Houses #fire emblem 16 #fe 16 #fe 3h #lemons

[thran-duils]

In Your Arms

Summary: Alone and pregnant, in the post apocalyptic world after your Alpha died, you’re found by the Saviors and brought to Negan’s doorstep. Negan may be the answer to your loneliness. Pairing: Omega!Fem Reader x Alpha!Negan Rating: Explicit Words: 981 Warnings (for the whole fic): Smut, fluff, ABO dynamics, some angst sprinkled in

Chap 2  || Masterpost || Fanfic masterpost

It was so hot. Humid. At the height of summer, you were sweating and nauseated from the heat and lack of food.

Your pregnancy was not doing anything to help you with it either.

The RV you had holed yourself up in was also not helping matters. The heat was pooling in the interior and you did not dare to open one of the windows when you were parked, in fear any noise you made would attract any walkers nearby. As soon as you had begun driving, you had opened the driver’s window, the wind – albeit hot wind but wind nonetheless – hitting your face gently. The only noise you wanted to make was when you drove, at least then you were moving and would be able to get away.

Unless there was a roadblock, you thought to yourself miserably, gripping the wheel tighter.

You did not know what to do. Your food was going to run out eventually and being as far along as you were, you guessed around seven months, getting around was not as easy as it used to be. You knew how to use a gun, had killed plenty of walkers yourself, but the agility of it was being quickly lost the bigger you became.

If only your Alpha had not died.

Tears came to your eyes thinking of him. He had gotten bit on a run and forced you to leave him behind. You knew he was going to shoot himself, end it so he did not end up like the others. You had barely been able to see the road as you drove away, the tears had been blinding. It was a cruel thing of him to ask, for you to leave him willingly, but it would have been worse to have him reanimate with you trapped in the RV with him. He had been so sick near the end.

You had not heard the gunshot. For that you were thankful. One small solace in this horrible situation.

What were you going to do? you thought to yourself for the umpteenth time.

Your eyes were drawn to a gas station surrounded by broken down cars and dead bodies. Braking cautiously, you slowed to a crawl, your eyes fixated on the place. It could have been completely ransacked at this point, the probability of that pretty high. Not to mention, you were unsure of what awaited you inside, dead or alive. Alive meant they could take advantage of you and steal your ride along with your supplies. Dead meant… dead meant a lot of things.

Your keys would come with you.

<> <> <>

A couple of cans of cat food and green beans had all you had been able to find in the store. There were expired chips and crackers as well, which you had grabbed too but were unsure about actually eating. Luckily, you had not crossed any walkers but as soon as you had stepped outside…

There was a group of men, staring you down, guns raised as soon as you had emerged. When they realized you were alive, they had relaxed a little but not much.

You scented an Alpha among them, and your heart began to race. You knew you were even more pronounced with your pregnancy hormones and without the fresh scent of an Alpha on you… you feared you would be viewed as fair game. The fear for your safety was thrumming beneath your skin.

Stiffening when one stepped forward – you knew it was the Alpha by the gesture – you kept your eyes trained on him. He had a handlebar mustache, greying hair, a utility belt strapped at his hips.

“Hey, little lady…” the man said to you, hands raised in a friendly gesture. You did not buy it for a second. His eyes ran over you, taking in your frame. You did not miss the cocked eyebrow when his gaze passed over your swollen stomach. “What are you doing out here alone?”

Swallowing sharply, you returned, “What does it look like?”

“Honestly? Looking desperate. In need of protection.”

“I can handle myself.”

“Well, so far. But…” his eyes trailed down to your stomach and your jaw set tight, wanting to put your hand on your stomach protectively. Hide it from his curious eyes but your other hand was holding the bag of food and you sure as hell were not going to give that up easily. It was your life line. He met your gaze again and gave you a small smile. “You running low on food, darling?”

“Are you?”

A wider smile this time. “Oh, I’m not about to take your food. No, not going to do that. We have a community that grows food for us.”

A community? Growing food?

He saw the expression on your face, you not masking your own curiosity well enough.

“Yeah, that’s right. Food. Shelter. Protection.” He paused before saying, “Might be a little bit easier for you as you go down the road… Not thinking you are going to be able to deliver a baby by yourself in a shitty RV. Screams alone would draw walkers.”

“You don’t think I’ve thought of that?”

“I’m sure you have. It would have been foolish of you not to. Just… stating the obvious. So, I’m offering... if you would like to come back. With us.”

It all sounded good.

Too good.

This was an Alpha speaking to an Omega… trying to coerce you.

“What’s in it for you?” you asked, gun still raised.

The man looked beside himself with amusement. “You are really hard to convince, aren’t you?” He took a step closer and your grip tightened on your gun. “Nothing for me except hopefully a strong drink from my boss for bringing another lovely person to join his community. Boss does love saving people. And darling, I think you’ll pull at his heartstrings.”

#negan x reader #abo twd #alpha!negan #twd fanfic #twd fanfiction #the walking dead fanfic #negan fic #negan fanfic #my shit

[banshee1013]

How To Train Your Hunter(s)

Well, here it is, finally - the continuation to the Looking Glass series, in which I and my friends formulate a plan to convince the Winchesters to allow us to help them defeat God and save their world.

This one ended up being a BEAST, so I’ve split it into three parts. This is Part The First.

Enjoy!

******************************************************************************************

"OK, ladies… this is it. Are you ready?" 

Speaking directly into my computer's microphone, to the Discord voice channel set up for this purpose.

Things this complex require voice communication, and being scattered over the country (and South Africa for Mags), long-distance charges would have been a nightmare. 

Thank the stars for Discord. 

A nervous titter from Cori over the channel.

"I think I'm ready… I'm so excited I can barely breathe!" 

Mags: "I was born ready…"

Ella: "As ready as I'm gonna be…" 

I felt a flutter of nerves in my gut, a moment of doubt. Not in my friends - I knew they were ready - but in me.

Could I keep them safe? 

And just how quickly - or worse, slowly - will Dean kill me for this? 

*******************************************************************************************

I hadn't told anyone else about the Looking Glass - not until I had, with Sam and Cas' help, performed many more experiments.

Bringing something other than myself through - weapons (my sword, a machete) and even one of my cats - CHECK. This was good news - it meant I could defend myself over there, and other living things could pass through as well. 

Bringing something from the "Mirror Universe" or MU as I jokingly referred to it (shoutout to my Star Trek nerd roots) - other weapons (returned before Dean noticed), a stray cat hanging around the Bunker (using gloves as to not shock the poor thing). CHECK (although I now have another feline mouth to feed…).

Jack will be pleased. This was Step One toward the Disneyland trip. 

I still zapped everyone I touched over there - well, by *everyone* I mean Sam, Dean, Jack, and Cas because I obviously hadn't interacted with anyone else - how do you explain to a stranger you're from another universe? But as suspected, the effect didn't happen at home. The Grace was dormant here. 

And then, like a dummy - I slipped. 

Mags was the one that caught it - an innocent comment between Dean and me regarding a pool game - how he cheated by distracting me (he may be like a brother to me, but still - DISTRACTING when he focuses his efforts on it). Thankfully pulling me into a DM rather than confronting me in public,  she pried at me. I tried to play it off as one of our usual GIF games, but she was having none of it. 

So I came clean. And of course, I then had to explain it - impossible over text alone. 

That's when I set up the Discord channel and turned on the voice feature. Once I explained the process, Mags was completely on-board with going over herself. 

"You know they need our help. They're fighting GOD, for Go… for shit's sake." 

"Mags, we have NO training. Have you *ever* used a machete?” 

"No, but I can learn," she asserted. "You learned how to fight with a sword, didn't you?" 

Well, she had me there. 

"OK. Let me do some… creative questioning of Sam. Come up with a training plan or whatever." 

"That sounds reasonable," she agreed, followed by a pregnant pause. "But we have to get Cori and Ella in on this action. Remember 'Dean's Angels'?" 

I groaned, eyes trailing skyward. "That was a joke!" 

"Was it though?" she countered, the mirth plain in her voice, before sobering. "C'mon. The more, the merrier, right? Besides, they would be so pissed if we went without them." 

She had a point. And training for two could easily be expanded into training for four. 

I invited Cori and Ella to the Discord channel and caught them up.

To no one's surprise, they were gung-ho on the idea. 

**************************************** 

The following Saturday, I paid a visit to the Bunker and surreptitiously questioned Sam on the nature of decapitating vampires and other monsters.

He probably would have thought I was nuts if he hadn't been distracted by his research trying to find Donatello. 

Finding Donatello was important to me as well, so I limited the questioning to times when I could coerce Sam into taking a break, tempting him with sandwiches and smoothies. 

I sat at the kitchen table across from Sam during one of these breaks as he sampled the smoothie, sliding the plate with the sandwich across to him.

"So y'know, I was wondering - how much pressure would you say you have to exert to chop off a vamp's head?" 

Sam paused mid-slurp and gave me a puzzled look. "Uh, I dunno, really - I never stopped to think about it…" 

"Well, would you say it's more like - chopping through a cabbage, or chopping through a pumpkin?" 

Ever the intellectual, he seriously contemplated the question. "I would say at least a pumpkin, a big one." Picking up the sandwich, he took a bite and considered the question more while chewing. Swallowing, he added, "But really, probably more like a ham. A good, 15lb bone-in ham." 

"Did someone say 'ham'?" Dean inquired, on a break from the Star Wars marathon in the Dean Cave with Jack, popping into the kitchen to fetch another beer and a soda for Jack. 

The next day, I brought through a 15lb ham and cooked it up for dinner - one of two I had purchased.

Theirs was to distract them from yesterday's discussion - and because Dean looked so crestfallen when no ham was on offer. They had ham sandwiches, and ham and cheese omelets, and ham and potatoes au gratin for a good week after. 

The other, of course, was for me to chop with a machete.

After trying it and finding it suitably difficult, I recommended the idea to the others. 

*************************************** 

We studied fight techniques.

I filmed my sword training classes for the "classical" techniques - entering the fight, counters to attacks, and grappling.

Cori found some excellent videos on actual machete fighting.

And we all studied every Monster of the Week episode of The Show, breaking down Sam, Dean, and Cas' knife-fighting skills and techniques. Ella became a master at the ‘Angel Blade Flip', using a Bowie knife borrowed from a friend. 

We all ended up eating a lot of ham, and when we got sick of it, the local shelters reaped the benefit.

We were always sure to carefully clean our blades before and after every training session, both for the protection of the blade and to keep the ham clean enough for eating, and would lay down fresh tarp to catch the falling pieces. 

If anyone at the shelters wondered about the nature of the donations - thick, somewhat uneven slices of bone-in ham - it was never voiced out loud.

Gift horses (pigs?), I suppose. 

************************************** 

We also studied basic first aid and field medicine. 

Mags worked at a hospital and became our go-to for all things medical. She was able to convince one of the ER docs and several of his patients to allow her to film suturing and wound treatment. "Research for a book" she claimed, promising credit and mentions in said book.

Yeah, she'll write that. Some day. 

The ham suffered more abuse as we gashed into them to practice sewing them back up with dental floss.

Unscented. I didn't want to find out if the mint stuff burned on contact. 

Cori gathered the necessary items and packaged small medical kits for us. 

************************************* 

"We're almost ready, ladies," I said to the others in the Discord voice channel.

We had been training for a couple of months, and sliced many hams.

We felt ready for the next step. 

"Just gotta find the right case for us." 

"So I assume Plan A was a bust, then?" Mags sighed.

"Yeah, well we kinda knew it would be, didn't we?" I said, resigned. 

'Plan A' was to film our training and present it to Sam and Dean as proof of our prowess and ability to protect ourselves, in order to gain their trust and allow us to accompany them on a hunt. 

I didn't tell the girls this - but I never had high confidence in Plan A. Sam could possibly be reasoned with, but Dean?

Not with that mile-wide protective streak of his. 

So I worked on 'Plan B' - finding a vamp nest for us to tackle on our own.

To do so, I would go through the Looking Glass to past hunt locations in the MU.

I figured a done deed would be far more convincing of our abilities than videos of murdered ham. 

For research, I once again turned to the 'tale of the tape' - The Show.

One of the "benefits" (for lack of a better word) of Chuck's little Greatest Hits Tour - reviewing the Show, and following the boy's hunts on Twitter, I had a decent idea of all their cases from the past and which of those past cases had been resurrected and already dealt with. With this knowledge, I believed I could find something suitable. 

I knew, however, that scouting locations was a not going to be an easy task. Remember that Grace? It was a beacon to Cas and Jack every time I set foot in the MU. 

So, I took Jack into my confidence. Sorta.

I didn't tell him the exact reason *why* I needed him to ignore my visits and keep Cas from noticing. I told him I was working on a surprise for Sam, Dean, and Cas, and asked for his help. 

It wasn't *really* a lie.

This would certainly be a surprise. 

For the first experiment, I picked a place well-documented on The Show but with no known monster visitations - Donna's cabin.

I researched the location, gathering information on temperature, sounds, and smells. Google Earth was my friend.

I paused the scene to study the cabin and surrounding area, memorizing visual cues. Studied the ground cover to determine what it would feel like as I stepped on it. 

I wasn't planning on being there long - just long enough to verify I was in the right place.

I figured I wouldn't be there long enough for Jack or Cas to detect my presence through the Grace, so I didn't tell him. 

I stood in front of the doorway of my spare bedroom and focused.

Closing my eyes, I envisioned every detail. Every sight, sound, feeling.

I stepped through the doorway - and my feet crunched on the leaves scattered on the ground outside what definitely appeared to be Donna's cabin. 

My time was limited so I confirmed the location in the quickest way possible - I searched for, and found, the garden gnome with the key hidden underneath, exactly as she had described in the episode. 

I couldn't stop the giddy feeling bubbling up in my chest. 

Step 1 of Plan B was a success. 

************************************ 

Over the next week, I watched every vampire episode, looking for one small enough for us to handle but big enough to be, well, impressive. Challenging.

I considered Alex's old nest - but there were only three of them. Mags could probably wipe out the nest all by herself.

I thought about Benny's old nest - but didn't want to run the risk of running into Benny. Chuck would be asshole enough to bring him back if just to torment Dean.

I went all the way back to the first season and found what could be the perfect case - Luther's nest, the first case the boys worked after the return of their father, John. The nest only consisted of about 10 vampires - just over two each. Doable. 

That is, if Chuck had returned them. I had to perform some reconnaissance to see. 

To do this, I needed to be there much longer than I was at Donna's cabin.

I was going to need Jack's help for this one.

I opened Twitter and a DM to Jack. 

************************************* 

@redbanshee: Hey Jack, are you there?

@IAmCalledJack: Hello! Were you at Donna's cabin last week? I thought I felt Castiel's Grace there but he was right here in the Bunker with me. 

Oh shit. I guess even the few minutes I was there was enough to trigger the alarm… 

@redbanshee: Uh, yeah… part of the surprise for Sam, Dean, and Cas - I needed something from her cabin.

@redbanshee: Did, uh, Cas notice?

@IAmCalledJack: Yes, but he figured he must be mistaken because it only appeared for a few minutes. 

Whew… dodged that bullet. I wouldn't get that lucky this time, though. 

@redbanshee: So, Jack, I need to go somewhere else today to get something else for their surprise - do you think you could distract Cas or something so he doesn't notice? I really don't want to spoil the surprise…

@IAmCalledJack: Yes, I am happy to help. I can actually block him from noticing you're here.

@redbanshee: Oh, that's very helpful! Thank you!

@redbanshee: I should be less than an hour, can you block him for that long?

@IAmCalledJack: Yes, I believe so.

@IAmCalledJack: Are you sure you'll be safe? You're not going anywhere dangerous, are you?

@redbanshee: No, of course not! Perfectly mundane. :)

@IAmCalledJack: OK :) But you'll pray to me if you get into trouble?

@redbanshee: Of course I will, sweetie. But I promise, I'll be just fine. 

I closed the DM and tried not to feel awful about it. 

************************************** 

I stepped through the doorway into a copse of trees overlooking the barn housing Luther's nest.

Or at least what I hoped was still - again - their nest.

It was late afternoon San Diego time, but just sliding into dusk in Colorado. Unlike what the myths would have you believe, vampires are capable of moving about in the day - it's just painful for them, so they don't unless they have to. I'll have a much better chance of seeing them after the sun goes down.

Taking out a pair of binoculars, I scanned the grounds. Nothing yet, so I waited. 

I didn't have to wait long. In the gathering gloom of dusk, the barn door opened and three figures emerged. A dim glow from inside the barn backlit several more inside, including a couple still asleep in hammocks. 

It was fairly obvious the nest had returned.

I felt the grin spreading across my face. We had our case.

But I had to be sure. 

I followed the three figures to a small bar about a mile down the road from the barn.

Followed them inside and picked a table in a dark corner to observe.

Watched as one, a female, singled out a loner sitting at the bar, sidled up to him to whisper in his ear.

Watched as he flushed, a tentative tongue flicking to lick lips gone suddenly dry.

Watched as the eyes glazed over, and followed her as she led him out the back door of the bar. 

I knew the hour I told Jack was almost up - I needed to get back in case he couldn’t block Cas for longer than that.

But I needed to *know* if these were really vampires. Could be just a commune, or a bunch of grifters.

I needed to make sure.

I waited a few minutes, took a deep breath, then followed them out the back door. 

And got there just in time to see the vamp drop the mark to the ground, drained. She turned toward me and hissed, blood dripping from ruby lips.

I froze, shocked and sickened.

Then jumped as a growling voice echoed from behind me. 

"Looking for something?" 

My breath stopped in my throat. I had no weapons.

I. HAD. NO. WEAPONS. 

I closed my eyes and forced down the panic. Turned to face the voice behind me.

"Uh, nope. Just came out for some air, y'know… I'll just be getting back inside, my friend is waiting for me… "

Steps echoing in the alley behind me as the female vampire approached, blocking that exit.

I sidestepped to move around him and dash for the back door of the bar, but he stepped in front of me, blocking my path.

He smiled a toothy grin.

A second set of very pointy teeth descended over the first. 

OK, then. No more proof necessary.

Now I just had to live long enough to bring the girls back and handle it. 

"Sorry, sis. Your friend is just gonna have to wait…" he smirked, reaching for me with lightning speed and grasping my arms just above the elbow.

On the bare skin just below the edge of my t-shirt sleeves. 

A blue-white flash of static discharge flared from the touch and sent the vampire sprawling.

I leaped over him and headed for the back door at a dead run.

Envisioning carpet under my feet, the hue of the overhead LED lights…

I plunged through the back doorway of the bar, and yelped as I stumbled and fell face-first… onto the carpet in my spare bedroom. 

I flipped and scrambled backward away from the doorway of the bedroom, waiting…

Wondering if something would follow me back through.

Scrambled until my back slammed against the wall, and I pulled my knees to my chest, breaths coming in wheezing gasps. 

The doorway remained empty.

I was safe. 

And I had found our case. 

******************************************************************************************* 

"OK ladies, let's go over the plan one more time…" 

I could hear the groans from the others over the Discord voice channel.

I didn't care.

I would go over this plan again and again, if necessary - until *I* was sure we were prepared and it would go off without a hitch.

I would not… COULD NOT… put my friends in unnecessary jeopardy. 

Dean is gonna kill me for this, anyway… and I'm ok with that as long as everyone else gets home safely. 

"FINE," Cori grumbled. "We step through the mirror and meet outside the bar…" 

" I'll pass around the dead man's blood and bullets…" Mags added. 

Working in a hospital has other advantages besides providing our medical training.

Mags was able to sneak into the morgue and grab several syringes worth of dead man’s blood, enough for two each.

She also painted several clips of bullets with it.

Neither would kill the vamps but would sure as shit slow them down. 

"I've got the medical kits." Cori chimed in. 

"I have the burner phones." I confirmed.

I had picked these up during my previous visit since our phones won't have service in the MU. 

"And then weapons check…," Ella added eagerly. The metallic clink and soft chime of silver meeting silver rings over the channel. Playing with her silver daggers again. 

"But bring your machete," I cautioned. "Those are sweet daggers and you're amazing with them, but silver doesn't affect vamps." 

"Maybe not, but will sure slow them down!" Ella chuckled gleefully. 

I sighed. The girl was gonna be the death of me. 

"Oh, and you all have something to carry this stuff in?" I asked. 

This had been a source of discussion for many days. We needed something big enough to carry a twenty-inch machete, medical kit, and dead man's blood, but not big enough to attract attention from any civilians who happened to be in the bar. 

We may be going to a world full of monsters, but if years of The Show had taught us anything, it was that most people there were oblivious and perfectly content to stay that way. 

Eventually, we decided on backpacks to reinforce our cover as a group of hikers on a trek through the local woods. Ease of access was not a concern with our plan – we would simply arm up before storming the barn. And anyway, should the machetes be spotted or questioned - we needed them to hack through the underbrush. 

A chorus of "Yep's" or variants thereof answered my question. 

"So after that, we'll head into the bar," I continued. "It will be late afternoon, and with any luck, happy hour."

Because yes, this was a hunt.

But it was also a meet and greet.

And I didn't know about anyone else, but I knew I was gonna need a shot or two of whiskey to take the edge off. 

"We'll wait there until dusk, then head to the barn." 

"Uh… I have a question, Cee…" Cori spoke up hesitantly. 

"Of course! What's up?" 

"Why are we waiting until dusk?" she queried. "I mean, they usually sleep during the day, right? Wouldn't it be better to attack them then, when they're all asleep?" 

She'd just hit on the heart of the matter. 

"If this were a standard vamp hunt, then yes, you're absolutely correct." I took a deep breath, let it out slowly.

"But it's not. It's an audition." 

"Audition?" Ella queried, puzzled. 

"Yeah… for Dean." Mags huffed. "Plan A didn't convince him, so Plan B has to." 

"Yeah," I sighed. "So here's the play. We head to the barn at dusk and wait for the first hunting party to leave. We meet up with them before they get to wherever they're going, and put an end to them. That does three things - gives us a win, provides positive proof we know what we're doing, and cuts down on the number of vamps we'll all have to take care of later." 

"All?" Cori asked. "Sam and Dean will be there?" 

"Not when we start. We handle the first group on our own." I paused, the nerves starting to creep up.

This was the dicey part.

"Then I call them and… invite them to join." 

Silence on the line. I pushed on. 

"So, remember that Grace Cas gave me? It's like a beacon - he always knows when I'm over there because he can sense the piece of his Grace that isn't with him." 

"So how have you been able to get all this information you've given us - the pictures and descriptions so we can get there through the Looking Glass?" Cori questioned. 

I hesitated. I still harbored feelings of guilt over using Jack as an accomplice.

Dean is going to have my head for that as well.

But would my friends? 

"Jack helped me. He kept Cas from noticing I was here." 

"You used *Jack*?" Mags exclaimed.

"Oh boy…" Ella breathed.

"Dean is going to KILL YOU!" Cori blurted. 

I winced at the outburst, but I knew it was coming. Deservedly so.

But it was necessary. 

"I didn't have much of a choice," I argued. "We all agreed we needed to help them, right? This is the only way we're going to convince them that we *can*." 

I paused. Silence. 

I continued. "Anyway, before we head over, I'm gonna text Jack and let him know I'm heading over. He'll block Cas until I give the signal. Then he'll grab Sam, Dean, and Cas, and teleport them to our location. Once they're there, they'll see we've successfully killed vamps by ourselves. Part 1 successful. Then we'll all go to the barn and wipe out the nest. Part 2 successful, positive impression made." 

"What's the signal?" Cori inquired. 

"Well, here's the tricky part," I sighed. "It's the one part we can't test beforehand." 

"OK, and…" Mags prodded. 

"I'm going to share the Grace with you…" 

A burst of voices from the channel… "What??", "Ohmigod are you sure?", "Huh??" 

"… this has two purposes!" I shouted over their protests. "First - remember the first time I crossed over and it knocked me out so bad I slept for a day and a half? Cas gave me the piece of his Grace to prevent that from happening. However, he gave me SO MUCH that everything that touches me over there gets a big jolt." 

Oh, right.

I hadn't told them about the encounter I had in the bar… zapping the vamp when he grabbed me.

All I had told them was I found the nest and scoped out the bar. I didn't want to scare them about going there.

It would be pure daylight out - no way the vamps would venture out in that.

We'd be perfectly safe. 

I rushed on. "So, when we're done with the first group… I'm gonna put my hand in and you're all gonna grab on, and I'm gonna pass some of this Grace on to you. I'm hoping this will do a few things - one, make it to where you won't be knocked out like I was when this is over. Two, it will decrease the amount of Grace in me, and I'll get to hug my boys again without having to be so damned careful!" 

I stopped for a breath. No one spoke.   

"Third - this will be Jack's signal to bring the A-Team. When he notices Cas' Grace split four ways, that's his cue." 

Silence. Finally, Cori cleared her throat and asked, "What's the plan if you can't transfer the Grace?" 

Another possibility I'd considered and scoped out when I went back for pictures.

Full-length mirror in the lady's room of the bar. 

"Plan GTFO - Get The Fuck Out. We head back to the bar and you guys jump back through the mirror in the lady's room. It's gonna be painful for you guys after you return, and I'm sorry. If that happens, I'll talk to Cas, see what can be done for future visits." 

"Well, you seem to have thought of everything…" Mags offered encouragingly. 

"Jesus, I sure as hell hope so," I breathed. "So, everyone still in?" 

I waited for what seemed like an eternity. 

"HELL YES!"

"What are we waiting for?"

"Let's get this show on the road!"

*******************************************************************************************

Part The Second Coming Very Soon!

#fanfic #dean winchester #sam winchester #jack kline #castiel #supernatural

[kumkaniudaku]

FRIENDS (Two)

ONE. 

Word Count: 1.7k 

Maya sat in a rocking chair between both cribs, singing a native Wakandan lullaby when a light knock forced her eyes open.

“Kitten, they are here. Can we come in?”

“Wait, let me get in position,” she urged as she rushed to hide her growing belly behind a large stuffed animal. T’Challa smiled at her dramatics and waited for her signal. “Okay! I’m ready. Let them in.”

Motioning outside of the door, T’Challa ushered Chadwick and Tasha into the room and watched their eyes grow wide with wonder.

“Whose nursery is this? It’s -it’s beautiful.”

“This one room is bigger than the apartment I had in New York,” Chadwick whispered to himself. “Two little people are gonna live in here.”

Maya and T’Challa shared a look of mischief that didn’t go unnoticed by CoCo. Pointing between the monarch, she shifted her weight to one side to begin her questioning. 

“Y’all look like y’all are hiding something.”

“Us? Hiding something? Noooo,” T’Challa started in a comical attempt to conceal the secret.

“Leave the acting to me, Challa,” Maya laughed. “We may or may not have an answer to who the nursery belongs to, though.”

Stepping from behind the stuffed animal, Maya watched Tasha’s facial expressions change in real time. Confusion gave way to shock before shock turned into an ear-splitting squeal that had only been heard one previous time on the night she got engaged.

“Star, a baby!?” Tasha’s excited tears morphed her words into a happy, slurred congratulations.

“Not just a baby,” Maya smiled, gesturing toward both cribs. “Babies. We’re having twins.”

“Oh my...twins. Two! I-I don’t even know words right now. Come here and hug me!”

The two embraced while their husbands exchanged congratulatory handshakes. Both women could feel the weight being lifted from Maya’s shoulders. When they last saw each other in Paris, the young Queen expressed fears surrounding having more children following her miscarriage. Now, she was overjoyed to share the addition of not one, but two new Udakus with one of the people there for her every step of the way.

Pulling away from the hug, Maya and Tasha shared short chuckles at the tears in both of their eyes. “You know, Co, you called it. You said we would have twins.”

“I did, didn’t I. Does that mean one of the babies will have my name? Wait, do you guys know the genders?”

“No and no,” T’Challa answered with a laugh. “But, when the gender reveal is planned, you two will be the first to receive invites.”

“Not knowing the gender won’t stop our turn up, though,” Maya exclaimed as she did an animated dance to show her excitement. “Tonight, we are yachting under the stars!”

“I like the sound of that,” Chadwick smiled, pulling his wife into his side. “I’ve been trying to get this one to dress up and go out for weeks.”

“Then it’s settled! Kali will come and get you guys at sundown to meet us, Erik, and Jasmine, for a night of grown fun. Make sure to wear something cute. For now, let’s go get some lunch. I’m hungry.”

“Kitten, you just ate.”

“And now, I’m eating again.” Maya’s face screwed up at T’Challa, making Tasha giggle behind her fingers. “C’mon, girl. You ever had jollof? I make the chefs keep me some on standby.”

Tasha eagerly followed Maya out of the room and down the hallway as they caught up, leaving T’Challa and Chadwick to decide what their next move would be.

“Hey man, has anyone ever told your cousin that he looks like Michael B. Jordan?”

T’Challa’s smile added to the mischievous glint in his eyes, “The young man from America with the identity crisis? I do not believe that he has heard that one, but I believe he quite enjoys Michael’s work. We should go and meet him so that you can tell him in person, eh?”

“I feel like you setting me up for failure, bro.”

“Never, my friend. But, just in case, he has weak knees. Go for the legs.”

-------

Pink and orange hues settled over the horizon like a painting, lighting the varying shades of brown skin in a beautiful bronze glow. Though Erik had to be coerced into attending after the celebrity look-alike fiasco, Jasmine was finally able to convince her husband to get over it and leave the palace.

Champagne flutes in hand, the couples laughed all the way to the port holding the vehicle of choice for the night, “So we are heading to Lake Malawi. It’s absolutely gorgeous and the sun is about to set, so you’ll see what I mean.”

The smooth vibranium car came to a halt at the port and the men helped their significant others out of the car.

Jasmine and Erik were warming up to the Boseman’s making small talk as T’Challa guided Maya to the yacht. “I shouldn’t have worn these heels. Shit!”

“You should not be wearing them anyway.”

“Oh hush! I have a few more weeks until I retire the heels.” Maya was still happy that she could wear her heels and tight dresses before the twins decided to make their presence really known.

Maya smiled at hearing Co and Chad’s reactions after everyone got on board, “The water is so beautiful!”

“Isn’t it! The stars reflect in the water and you can see the fish!”

The vibranium grade yacht sailed through the water and bottles of champagne were popped. “Juice for Maya.” Yanking the non-alcoholic beverage out of Erik’s hand, Maya mumbled and pouted but took a sip.

“Alright, lovebirds, we’re here to turn up! We should start with a toast.” Glasses were passed around and refilled until each couple met in the middle of the outdoor seating area of the watercraft. Nestled into T’Challa’s side, Maya rose her glass to begin. “This is a toast to new life, being in love, and getting some tonight!”

“I’ll toast to that,” Tasha exclaimed, rushing to touch glasses with the other women before chugging the bubbling contents of her glass. Amused laughter followed in reaction to Chadwick’s eyebrows raised in genuine surprise.

“Sounds like you got some work to do, bro,” Erik laughed, earning a look from Jas.

“You too, boy.” Following Tasha’s earlier actions, she began chugging the liquid in her flute before refilling and drinking half of the second glass. “I want rounds, too, so you better get to drinking!”

Drinks and laughs flowed easily as the sun gave way to a plethora of stars in the onyx sky. As the alcohol settled, the couples had individual moments of handsy behavior, leading to an impromptu game of Truth or Drink.

“Okay, okay,” Maya laughed after Erik was forced to come clean about cry over a breakup period with Jas. The Queen was the only sober member of the group, leaving her to have her fun with the other parties involved. “Co, it’s your turn.”

“I’m ready. I’m telling the truth no matter what. I swear.” Her words were a bit slurred, putting Chadwick on alert should he have to intervene in her “sharing.”

“Alright, sis, you said it not me.” Searching through an internet page of suggestive questions, Maya landed on one that hadn’t been asked all night and showed it to her husband.

T’Challa took a look at the question and smiled, “I am sure Chad will not allow that to be answered.”

“Oh hell. Do I get to see the question and make a decision for both of us?”

“Nope! Play by the rules T’Twin.” Chadwick playfully rolled his eyes while Maya prepared to read off the question. “So, Tasha, have you and your man ever recorded a sexual encounter? If no, why not? If yes, briefly give us the details.”

Considering the Udaku’s own encounters with sex tapes, everyone leaned closer for an answer to the racy question. Chadwick finished the contents of his glass, preferring to let his wife stammer through the answer.

Tasha smiled and flipped her hair over her shoulder, “You really wanna know?”

“Either tell the truth or drink, sis. You know the rule,” Jas smiled.

Biting her lip, Tasha shared a look with Chadwick to ask for permission to continue. His noncommittal shrug gave her the green light. “So, we’ve done it a few times. Most recently for my birthday this year.”

“Yaaaassss! Details. Now!” Jumping out of her seat, Maya wiggled her way between Chadwick and Tasha, forcing him to move to the other side of the yacht. “Tell me everything. I need your positions list, what were you wearing, EVERYTHING!”

Jas also moved closer, taking a seat on the table across from the women to wait for Tasha’s story.

While the women squealed in anticipation, Erik looked to Chadwick and T’Challa with worried eyes. “I’m not gon’ hear no weird shit, right?”

“I cannot promise that, cousin.”

“And I can’t promise your lady won’t share some of your business, too. Just know, whatever happens during couple’s night out, doesn’t get discussed later.”

Erik nodded as he looked over to the women hanging on to Tasha’s every word, occasionally adding a shocked gasp or one-worded feedback.

“It started with him recording me in some lingerie he got for the night, next thing I know, I’m holding the camera while he’s got my legs over my head.”

“I’m assuming you still have the tape,” Maya inquired.

“The full thing is as home, but I always keep a few clips on my phone for...research.”

“Oooooooh! Let us see!”

The men watched Tasha fumble with her cell phone until unfiltered moans and curses emitting from the devices small speakers cut through the night air. Maya made sure to compliment CoCo on her flexibility as T’Challa and Erik burned holes in the side of Chadwick’s face. The man on the other side of the recorded encounter simply continued to sip his whiskey before shrugging his shoulders.

“This stays on the boat right?”

T’Challa opened his mouth to comment but was stopped by a collective damn at something that had transpired on the screen. Looking between his cousin and friend, he heard the message loud and clear. This moment would remain on Lake Malawi for as long as they all lived.

----------------

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#black panther fics #black panther imagine #coco x maya #maya x coco

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

Balance on the Head of a Pin

Chapter Twenty-Six

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x OFC  |  Word Count: 7339 Warnings: Foul language

Pepper smiled as she alighted on sleek white heels and let the front of her gown drop when she leaned in and placed an air kiss on Loki’s cheek. “Loki, I hear tell you’re making trouble for our Lauren?”

“Preventing it, actually, while winning the heart of my beloved.” He took two steps back, bringing her with him and clearing the doorway while looking Pepper over. “Stunningly radiant as always.” He tilted his head in acknowledgment of her way with clothes.

The dress was a long sheath, leaving her arms bare. It started out white at the wide boatneck before darkening rapidly into a deep red from her knees to the hem floating just off the ground.

“I’m flattered you think so. I missed your opinion.”

“What in the hell does that mean?” Stark snarled as he stepped from the helicopter.

“Exactly what it sounds like. Loki has excellent taste.” Pepper patted Loki’s arm.

“Since when!” Tony demanded.

“You think I tell you everything?” she quipped.

“Evidently not,” he pouted.

Loki, though enjoying the exchange, eyed the others critically as they descended from the helicopter. Stark was dressed in his typical attire of suit coat over graphic t-shirt and jeans, his rose-tinted glasses unable to mask the hardness of his gaze.

Natasha appeared more wary, her distrust showing. Her dress was appropriate for a Stark party but was, unfortunately, not formal enough for the one getting underway at his back.

Steve looked guilty and Bucky apologetic, as they too appeared in far too casual attire.

“Pepper, darling, don’t take this the wrong way as I’m certain you must have only just returned from your trip and have no idea what’s happening, but what are you all doing here?” Loki asked, arching a brow at the others.

“Especially after I specifically asked you to stay away,” Thor added, wrapping his arm around Stark’s shoulders and giving him a tight squeeze.

“Tony!” Pepper gasped. “You said we’d been invited!”

“We were invited.” He wheezed prompting Thor to release him.

“By who?” Loki inquired, ready to shred flesh from bone.

“The Aviretts.”

“Of course you were. Evidently not recently.” Loki sighed.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Natasha asked, her gaze darting toward Thor.

The look piqued Loki’s interest. Had his brother charmed the former assassin to have her looking Thor’s way with such eyes? “I mean, had your invitation come recently, or had you bothered to call and make your intentions known, we could have informed you of tonight’s dress code.”

“Oh, no.” Pepper looked down at her outfit.

“You’re taste is impeccable, Pepper dear. You have quite hit the theme dead on. The rest of you…” Loki narrowed his eyes and snapped his fingers.

Natasha’s little black dress was now a crimson red which hung from one shoulder. Fitted, it flared at her knees into sheer white tulle, falling in a multitude of pleats to the ground. The three men he placed in suits. Steve and Bucky in dark blue with satin lapels. A white shirt and blue tie for Steve. Black shirt and no tie for Bucky, knowing the soldier’s dislike for neckwear.

He chose the colour for one reason and one reason only. To irritate Magnolia.

For Stark, he matched him to Pepper in a white jacket with black lapels, black shirt and pants, and dark red tie.

They all looked immaculate, and Loki smirked, pleased with the outcome. “There. You will no longer embarrass my Ástvinur.”

Pepper snickered softly, her hand hiding her smile. “And that would be why I seek Loki’s opinion.” She turned on Tony. “But you have some nerve lying to me about this!”

“It wasn’t a lie!” he huffed, shooting Loki a glare. “Don’t you remember. We were at that thing, gala, event… something, and met Lauren’s sister and brother-in-law. They gave us an open invitation.”

“It was a charity fundraiser, and that’s no excuse, Tony!” She shifted her attention to Thor. “Especially after being asked not to come. Thor,” she held out her hand which he quickly collected and tucked in his elbow, “perhaps you can explain what someone has clearly failed to, so I don’t embarrass Lauren this evening.”

“It would be my pleasure, Lady Pepper.” He tilted his head and led her away into the garden where Loki could hear Pepper exclaim over the enticing view.

“Now,” Loki said calmly as he slowly clenched his fists. “Explain to me exactly what you hoped to accomplish by arriving here unannounced after Thor expressly forbade it!”

“No one forbids me from doing anything, reindeer games,” Tony snapped.

“And after Thor’s half-assed explanation, we came to make sure Lauren wasn’t being coerced into this… bond by the god of lies and deception.”

Loki glared at Natasha. “She is my Ástvinur. I do not lie to her, nor would I ever need to. You may understand little of loyalty and trust, Widow, but a god of Asgard remains true to his chosen in all things!”

“Hey, now.” Steve held up his hand before Natasha could retaliate. “That’s unfair and uncalled for.”

“Is it? Is it, Captain?” He rounded on Steve. “When every word from her mouth disparages the intelligence of the woman who holds my heart?”

“Excuse me!” Nat snapped.

Loki lifted his chin and looked down his nose at her. “Every time you doubt her, you are no better than the family she came from. She has a mind, an incredibly intelligent one you refuse to acknowledge every time you accuse me of tricking her. Do you think I could? Do you think her so stupid she would not see through me if I did not mean every bloody word I say? She has more heart, more love, and more compassion than this entire team combined! Yet you seem to think she is incapable of knowing her own mind!” He stepped into Natasha who backed into the wall of the helicopter. “In this, you are no better than the family I have watched try and tear her down, abuse her, and hate her for the past three days! I will allow it no longer!”

“Loki, take it easy, pal,” Bucky said, grabbing his shoulder. “I’m sorry we didn’t let you know we were comin’. There was… an issue with communication.”

“I bet,” Loki snarled, but stepped back from Natasha who looked more concerned than angry.

“We were worried.” Steve, ever the mediator, spoke into the humming silence which had fallen like the night over the group of them. “After Thor returned and explained… some of this bond stuff, we just wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

Loki gave a sharp bark of dismissive laughter. “Your fear for Lauren is both unfounded and insulting. I would never hurt her.”

Bucky squeezed his shoulder. “It wasn’t just Lauren we were worried about.”

He lifted his gaze to the sergeant’s, found the concern etched in blue-grey and sighed. “That, too, is unnecessary.”

“What happens if you don’t finalize the bond, Loki?” Steve asked.

“I die,” he said bluntly.

“What?” Natasha whispered.

“I’m certain that would please you, seeing how you despise me.” She looked aggrieved, but he only shrugged and turned away.

Natasha grabbed him by the arm. “Hey! I may not like you much, but I don’t want you dead!”

“How touching,” Loki sniffed.

“Look,” she snapped, jerking him around. “Clearly you have strong feelings for Lauren. I’m not blind, just stubborn. If you’re what makes her happy then who am I to get in her way, and apparently, you’re not going to do anything to fuck that up, right, magic man?”

“I would not,” he agreed.

“Then, no. I don’t want you to end up dead because that would hurt Lauren. So shut the hell up!”

“You know, your accent slips when you are outraged,” Loki snickered.

“Natalia,” Bucky growled when she opened her mouth to really lay into Loki, likely in Russian. “What can we do to help?” he asked Loki instead.

“Nothing.” Loki shrugged.

“Oh, come on!” Tony huffed and threw up his arms. “Even after all you’ve done, I don’t want to see you dead. Evidently, Pepper likes you, which… is weird but whatever.”

“There’s got to be something we can do,” Steve agreed.

“There is nothing to be done because my Ástvinur completed the bond earlier today.” He grinned wickedly at all the stunned faces and walked off toward the house. “Come along. My wife will be pleased to see you.”

“Wife!”

The four voices blended in perfect harmony and made him laugh. “Yes, though most are unaware of Lauren's change in status, and we are still but engaged according to your Midgardian law, Lauren and I celebrate our finalizing of the bond tonight.” He paused and looked back over his shoulder. “As you are her true family, it is fitting you should be here to join in her happiness and is the only reason I have not punted the four of you back to New York through a portal.”

“Wait a goddamn minute!” Bucky bellowed. “You bring her down her, pretending to be her boyfriend, end up her fake fiance, and finally tell her about your damn feelings only to end up married in the space of a weekend!? I’m of half a mind to kick your ass!”

“You would be in for a disappointing time if you tried it, Sergeant,” Thor growled, coming through a hedge made of illusion with Pepper on his arm.

They all gaped when the illusion simply righted itself.

“What? How?” Tony asked, dragging his fingers through the leaves.

“Finding one’s Ástvinur is like receiving an upgrade. My powers have increased tenfold, and the darkness inside me that I have fought against all my life has grown silent. Lauren has granted me peace. Peace I will cherish the rest of my life.” Loki looked toward the house where her increasing unhappiness was easily felt through the heart stone.

“Don’t you mean the rest of hers?” Natasha asked.

For once there was no snap, no snark or snarl to her words, only concern and when he looked into her eyes, Loki was surprised to find pity. Did she worry about him? Fear he would be alone for the eternity of time he had thanks to his slowly ageing race. “Lauren’s acceptance as my Ástvinur grants her a place at my side. She is of Asgard now and will age in the same manner as Thor or I. Fate would not be so cruel as to grant me my heart only to steal her away thanks to sickness or the mortality of human age.”

“Did she… know?” Steve asked, his eyes large with surprise.

“I have no secrets from my beloved, and the change has been good for her. Come. You will see.”

Pepper tucked her hand under his elbow and pulled him to the side of the path. “Go on,” she waved at the others. “I have something to say.”

“Of course you do, Pepper dear,” Loki chuckled, but sobered quickly when the others headed for the house, and he was left alone in the garden with the formidable Miss Potts.

“Loki.” She smiled and put his heart at ease.

He quite liked Pepper, respected her for the talented and generous woman she was. She’d been cool at first. Understandable when Loki had once nearly killed the man she loved but had warmed to him faster than the rest when he’d casually commented on her impeccable taste so many months ago. They’d bonded over, of all things, fashion and while he harboured no feelings other than affection for her, hers was a friendship he’d come to cherish.

“I’m happy for you.” She pressed up and kissed his cheek. “I know how much you adore Lauren.” He arched a speculative brow and made her laugh. “Unlike some of the others, I am not blind to the way you have always looked at her. Nor to the way she looked at you. Lauren is special. It’s past time she had someone treat her right.”

“She admires you. At times I have watched her emulate you quite well.”

Pink flushed her cheeks. “How lovely. I’m flattered.”

“You are an easy woman to admire, Miss Potts.”

The flush darkened. “I am a trifle put out to find you’ve essentially married the one woman who keeps Tony in line as well as I do. If you steal her away, I’ll make sure you regret it.”

Her threat, though teasing, was anything but hollow. “While Lauren and I will occasionally return to Asgard, her family is here. She adores her niece and nephew. I have no desire to see them parted from her.”

She nodded, seeming satisfied with his answer. “Thor said your father is thrilled. This is a big deal for you and all of Asgard.”

“Finding one’s Ástvinur is rare. Finding her and completing a binding in so few days… is unheard of. She is,” again he looked to the house where her anxiety was growing, “incredibly special.”

“I want to see her,” Pepper laughed softly, “and clearly you do too if that look of longing is anything to go by.”

“She is anxious at such parties,” he said, leading Pepper toward the house.

“She’s never been so at any of ours. Well, maybe the first few, but she does such an incredible job, and it isn’t as if she put this one together.”

He glanced her way. “She was tasked with overseeing it the moment we arrived. It was a complete disaster, her mother and sisters are horrendous women, and I stepped in to create this,” he waved his hand, “to take the pressure off her. You have no idea what you are in for.”

She took the warning in stride, but what thoughts swam in her head remained a mystery to him.

Pepper cast her gaze over the straggling party guests entering through the exterior doors, or those who were currently wandering the garden paths with awe. “You know, Loki. I never took you as one who conforms to the crowd.”

“What do you mean by that, darling?”

She paused at the edge of the stairs in the shadows and gave his tie a tug. “For a God of Asgard, you are looking decidedly human tonight. I can’t imagine you haven’t dressed Lauren to the nines, or as far as she would let you, and with this being, in essence, your Asgardian wedding day, one would think you’d be less… Midgardian in appearance?” A wicked light danced in Pepper’s eyes, one of mischief and intrigue.

“Just what are you getting at, Pepper dear?”

Pepper gave a minute shrug. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen formal Asgardian attire.”

Loki grinned. “Mm, darling. That is quite naughty of you.”

“If it is, I learned from the best.” She lifted the skirt of her dress. “Think about it. After all, why would the God of Mischief ever want to blend in?”

He watched her head up the stairs to join Stark as Thor descended to join him. Steve, Bucky, and Natasha were nowhere to be seen, but surprise and happiness had burst through the heart stone so he could hazard a guess as to where they were.

“Loki?” Thor frowned. “Are you coming?”

“In a moment.”

“Why? Did Miss Potts upset you?” Hard blue eyes swung up to find her retreating form.

“Pepper has not. She has simply reminded me of something important.”

“And what would that be?” Thor asked, peering at him curiously.

The smile Loki was so well known for crawled across his lips as he turned to assess his brother. “That we, my dear brother, are not of Midgard.”

***

As soon as Loki left it was like the vultures descended.

Lauren greeted Marcus with a cheek kiss and apology. “I’m sorry about Thor.”

“I think he may have bruised a few ribs,” Marcus said, but his eyes twinkled with amusement. “He’s kinda…”

“Awesome!” Sadie snickered.

“I was gonna say intense, woman,” Marcus huffed.”Yours isn’t about to plant one on my wife, is he?”

Lauren laughed and shook her head. “That is, apparently, a Thor thing I knew nothin’ about, but congratulations, Marcus. You’re gonna make a great daddy.”

He beamed like she’d given him the greatest gift and hugged Sadie to his side. “I hear you’ve had your own bit of news, your highness.”

“Shush, you!” Lauren swatted at him, a blush burning through her cheeks. “It isn’t common knowledge yet, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Uh-oh. In comin’ Daltons,” Sadie muttered. “Marcus, be a dear and refill Lauren’s wine and get me a coke. Please.”

“Sadie June,” he warned.

She only looked at him firmly. “Brockett, just do it.”

“It’s okay, Marcus. I’ll make sure she doesn’t do nothin’ too offensive,” Lauren snickered.

“Traitor,” Sadie pouted, but it was enough to make Marcus laugh before he walked off.

“Lauren!” Maryann Dalton gushed as Lauren turned to face her. “My, oh my. Just look at this place. Y’all have outdone yourself this year. Why I didn’t know Quinn had it in her.”

“She didn’t,” Sadie scoffed.

“I’m afraid Quinn and I didn’t see eye to eye on this year’s theme. Loki created all of this,” Lauren explained, giving Sadie a warning nudge.

Georgia’s eyes widened. “Magic? This was all done with magic?”

“Yes, that’s right.” Lauren smiled, understanding her shock. “Y'all should check out the buffet. It’s like steppin’ through to Asgard.”

Bill, Maryanne’s husband, approached and Lauren forced her smile not to waiver. “Mr. Dalton.”

“Lauren. Y’all have outdone yourself this year.” His gaze raked down her body in a way that made Lauren nauseous.

She reached up and touched the jewel at her throat. “Thank you, but the credit goes to my Ástvinur.”

“A what now?” Georgia muttered.

“It’s Æsir for beloved.” Lauren smiled.

“And you just glow tonight, too, Lauren.” Bill reached out and dragged his fingertip down her shoulder.  “All gold, and white, and shimmery like an angel.”

She pulled away in distaste, trying not to show how foul his touch felt to her. “Thank you. I was just sayin’ Georgia and Miss Maryann should head on into the buffet. It’s like walking into the halls of Asgard.”

“Is it now?” He pursed his lips. “Well, we’ll just have to wander over and see it for ourselves, won’t we girls.”

“Yes, daddy!” Georgia chirped. “Though I was hopin’ to see Loki again. Why he’s just so fascinatin’. I couldn’t get enough of hearin’ him talk the other day.”

“He really was so refined,” Maryann agreed.

“He’s a prince. How could he not be?” Sadie huffed.

“You met Thor,” Lauren snickered before she could stop herself.

“That is true. Though, he’s still got a pretty way of talkin’.” Sadie chuckled.

“Thor… is here?” Georgia murmured, her eyes growing large before she lurched for Lauren’s arm and latched on. “You simply must introduce me.”

The crazy eyes of the woman had Lauren stepping back. “I’m not sure where he and Loki are at, at the moment.”

Cold calculation and cunning filled Maryann’s eyes when Lauren looked her way. Add to it the lust on Bill’s face, and she was ready to run for the hills.

“Yes, you really must introduce Georgia. It’s only right he has the most beautiful woman at the party on his arm,” Maryann insisted.

“Then he’d be escortin’ Lauren,” Sadie snapped, peeling Georgia off Lauren’s arm.

“Sadie Brockett! Don’t you go takin’ that tone with me!” Maryann snarled while Georgia pouted.

“Now, don’t you be gettin’ your knickers in a twist, wife. Y'all have eyes to see Sadie ain’t spoutin’ no cockamamie story. Our Lauren is quite the belle of this here ball tonight.” He smiled jovially at his wife and daughter before turning his salacious gaze back to Lauren. “Why, I really must insist you save me a dance, darlin’.”

The sound of Loki’s preferred endearment rolling off his tongue had Lauren longing to throw up on his shoes. “I’m afraid my dance card is quite full.”

“Oh, you can make space for me,” he insisted.

The idea of his sweaty palms and grasping hands touching her in any way made her want to scream for Loki. Instead, it was Sadie who came to the rescue.

“Lu? Ain’t that your daddy over there tryin’ to get your attention?”

Lauren glanced at Sadie with thanks. “I believe it is. Excuse us.” The two of them rushed away, losing the Dalton’s in the crowd.

“That man makes my skin crawl,” Sadie murmured, shivering in disgust.

“Me too.” Lauren’s features twisted in distaste.

Sadie turned to speak only to let loose a soft growl. “Fuck, Lu. Incomin’.”

Lauren glanced back to find Marabeth and her flock of cronies bearing down on them. “Breathe, Sadie,” she warned quietly, squeezing the brunette’s fingers.

“Well, Lauren,” Marabeth began, “this is quite the spectacle you’ve put on.”

“Tacky and so overdone,” Quinn agreed.

“Hm,” Monique, another of Marabeth’s clique piped up, “Ostentatious is what I’d call it.”

Tracy waved a ring-bedecked hand at the ceiling. “Can we all say tryin’ too hard?”

A round of giggles exploded from the lot of them.

“And just look at you,” Marabeth sneered, taking her gaze over Lauren. “You look no better than a trumped-up whore in that dress. Bought and paid for with all… this.” She flicked her finger first at Lauren’s bracer, then higher toward her torque. “What an ugly necklace.”

“It’s a torque, actually. The rest are heirlooms from Loki’s mama, and at least my beau gives me presents. When was the last time Samuel bought you somethin’?” The words flew from her lips without seeking her permission, but Lauren couldn’t find it in herself to be sorry for them. The group of harpies was disparaging Loki’s work this time, not hers, and she wasn’t about to stand for it.

“I don’t need expensive presents from my husband, Lauren Guillemin. The way your fiancé spoils you just goes to show you’re the same needy brat you’ve always been. Constantly whinin’ for attention. “I want this, I need that.” You’ve always been a graspin’ little bitch, and now it’s clear how you sank your claws into him, to begin with. Flauntin’ yourself like you are is disgraceful. Sadie Brockett, you should be ashamed of yourself for darin’ to show your face after puttin’ Lauren in such a scandalous dress.”

“Shut your yap, Marabeth. Just cause you’re unable to wear somethin’ so fitted anymore doesn’t give you the right to tear at Lauren because she can. She looks amazin’. Both Loki and Thor think so!” Sadie snapped.

Red suffused Marabeth’s face. “Why I bother to try and educate you, you lowbrow hussy, I’ll never understand. You’re no better than Lauren in that outfit you’ve got on.” She sniffed, staring down her nose at the two of them. “No wonder you had to catch the eye of some alien to find someone, Lauren. No self-respectin’ male would have you.”

“I’d have her,” came a hard, deep voice from behind Lauren, one as familiar as her own. “And I’d thank you to piss right the fuck off! Who the hell do you think you are?”

“Bucky!” Lauren squealed as she spun around only to come face to face with Steve standing beside him. “Steve?”

“Hey, doll face. Wow, you look amazing!” His shock quickly replaced the thunderous brows and dark eyes of righteous indignation which had been on his face.

“Damn, doll,” Bucky said, taking her hand to pull her closer. “You’re one swell looking dish tonight, unlike Fanny flathead there. Someone should tell her orange really ain’t her colour.”

“Lauren Guillemin! Are you gonna let these… people speak to me this way?” Marabeth sputtered, her voice shrill.

“Considering how you were speaking to her a few seconds ago? Yes, she damn well is!” Natasha said from directly behind Marabeth.

The coolness of Natasha’s Widow voice even made Lauren shiver. “Nat!”

“Just who do you think you people are?” Marabeth blustered, taking a step away from Natasha.

“They would be Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, and Natasha Romanoff. My very good friends… and three more Avengers,” Lauren said, her smile brilliant as she threw her arms around Bucky. “What’re y’all doin’ here?”

He hugged her tight and bussed a kiss on her cheek. “Tony and Pepper decided to take the Avirett’s up on their standing invitation to join them for the party. Had I known it was gonna include people with such rude manners we’d a been here earlier, doll. No one talks to a member of my family like that and gets away with it.”

“Especially when every word is a bald-faced lie,” Steve agreed, swinging sharp blue eyes back to the group of cowering women. “Who the hell do you think you are saying something like that to Lauren?”

“She’d be Marabeth Avirett, one of the hostesses of tonight, and Lauren’s elder sister,” Sadie quipped rather gleefully.

Bucky’s countenance darkened. “So you’re the sister.” He set Lauren away from him, thrusting her toward Steve. “You’re a real piece of work. If I was less of a gentleman…” he clenched his fist, “You’re gonna want to walk away right now and stay away from me the rest of the night.”

What Marabeth and the others saw on his face and in his eyes, Lauren couldn’t be sure, but her sister paled swiftly, and the group scurried away like rats fleeing a sinking ship before his anger. Not even Loki had been able to put that much fear into her sister, but by the time Bucky turned around the look was gone.

“Damn. Can you teach me how to do that?” Sadie asked, extending her hand. “Sadie Brockett.”

“Fraid not, doll. It’s a Winter Soldier thing,” Bucky chuckled. “Good to meet you, ma’am. Lauren’s told me lots about you.”

“Likewise.” Sadie smiled. “I feel as if I already know most of y’all already. Ms. Romanoff, you’re just as beautiful and scary in person as I’ve always imagined.”

Natasha laughed and shook the offered hand. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It was meant as one.” She turned to Steve. “Captain. She’s right about you as well.”

Lauren inhaled sharply and blushed right to the roots of her hair. “Sadie June!” she barked.

“What?” Sadie teased. “I was gonna say sweet and loyal but commanding, not that other thing. I feel the need to stand up straight and salute.” She gave Steve a wink.

“Well, know I’m curious,” Steve said with a smirk. “What’s the other thing?”

Sadie only shrugged and mimicked zipping her lips. “Sorry, Cap. Us southern girls gotta stick together.”

“What are y'all doin’ here really?” Lauren asked, desperate to change the subject.

“Thor told us… everything,” Steve said, turning her to face him. “Are you alright?”

The concern in his eyes was unnecessary but sweet. Lauren smiled and straightened his tie. “I’m great.”

“Really?” Natasha asked, moving closer and peering at her through narrowed eyes.

“I’m happy, Nat. Really, really happy. I hope y’all can be for me, too. Otherwise this will be a mighty short trip for everyone.” Lauren lifted her chin.

The redhead’s gaze trailed over her, alighting on the bracers, necklace, and circlet before returning to Lauren’s eyes. “He certainly knows how to make a statement,” she smirked, stepping forward to hug Lauren. “So, you’re married to the God of Mischief. What’s that like?” she asked, her grin teasing.

Acting purposefully dense, Lauren shrugged. “It’s only been a few hours.”

“Hey, Gilli?” Bucky grabbed her fingers and tugged her a few steps away from the others.

“Yeah, Buck?” She looked at him with worry, wondering if he was upset with her, but he just gently cupped her chin and smiled.

“If you’re happy, darlin’, then I’m happy for you. Loki’s a good guy, I think. Just… had a bum wrap.”

“Like another good guy I know,” she said, patting his chest and fighting the tears which burned her eyes with his acceptance.

“Alright! Where is she?” Tony huffed, sauntering toward the group. He tugged his glasses from his face and pointed the arm of his specs Lauren’s direction. “You, missy, have some explaining to do.”

Pepper rolled her eyes, gave Tony a shove and swept Lauren into a hug. “Ignore him. He's petulant because you acted like a grown up and made a choice which didn’t involve him.”

Lauren laughed and hugged Pepper back. “It’s so good to see you, but you must have barely gotten back from China.”

“I had a few hours of sleep on the plane before Tony ambushed me, but I wouldn’t have missed this for the world! Look at you glow, Lauren.” She shook her head as she stepped back. “I can see what Loki meant. This bond, it really is good for you.”

A pleased blush filled Lauren’s cheeks.

“You should see the two of them together,” Sadie snickered, her eyes bright with excitement and a little awe. “They’re adorable. The world just kind of… vanishes for them.”

“Pepper, Tony, this is Sadie Brockett.”

“Ah, the illustrious Sadie.” Tony took her hand and swept her a bow. “Charmed.”

“Likewise,” Sadie giggled.

“The Sadie?” Pepper asked, looking to Lauren.

“The very same one,” Lauren laughed when Sadie looked shocked.

“You and I need to talk,” Pepper said, stepping closer to Sadie. “I really need to know where you find some of your dresses! Lauren always looks incredible and has credited you with her knowledge.”

“She did?” Sadie squeaked, glancing at Lauren with eyes now full of gratitude before she and Pepper launched into a full-scale discussion which went right over Lauren’s head.

“Well, Miss Annandale?” Tony started, levelling Lauren a glare. “Just what have you got to say for yourself?”

Four Avenger’s stood before her, all staring with different levels of interest or understanding. While Bucky looked happy for her, practically beaming like the brother she’d always named him, Steve looked more happy and uncertain. Natasha appeared to be putting on a good face, happy for her but still cautious, while Tony only appeared stern.

Lauren knew if she couldn’t stand up for herself against them, she wasn’t going to be able to defend her relationship against anyone. With a lift of her chin, she let her hands fall loosely to her sides. “He is my choice, whether you agree with it or not. I love him. He loves me. Everythin’ he’s done since he’s been here has made my life easier. You may not understand it, you may not like it, but Loki gave me a choice and I made it. For all intents and purposes, I’m his and I’d have it no other way.”

The shiver of knowing which had tracked her spine earlier that day sounded again in her soul and she turned, a moth drawn to his flame, to face the doors. Walking through them was a very changed Asgardian and wicked amusement worked its way through Lauren.

Thor was dressed as befit the King of Asgard. His armour had been replaced with a dark red leather which seemed to form to his torso and arms. From beneath she could just make out the glimmer of a black tunic, the collars crossing at his throat before disappearing beneath the leather. There were runes and symbols carved into it, leather lacings creating rows of seams like ‘x’s up his sides. Black boots blended with black breeks to showcase heavily muscled thighs. Though the leather worked outerwear stopped at the top of his hips, his tunic continued from below allowing one to see the heavily embroidered hem of gold intricately worked knots which ran around the bottom. His usual silver bracers had been replaced by highly polished golden ones, as were the large claps which held his cape to his shoulders. It snapped at his heels when he walked, drawing everyone’s eyes to him as he made his way toward her.

It wasn’t until he was a few yards away that Lauren realized what he wore upon his brow. The crown was not what she’d expected. Instead of the large, jewel-encrusted ones she’d seen in movies and magazines, this one was a two-inch band of beaten gold engraved with knots and symbols similar to the ones upon his clothing. Two rather ornate wings rose above either ear, but otherwise, it was a relatively understated piece. The helmet he often wore had more embellishing on it than the crown did. Still, when he approached, his smile full and reminiscent of his brother, Lauren executed a perfect curtsey.

“Your majesty,” she said, amusement heavy in her tone.

“Such a trickster you are, little sister. No wonder you are Loki’s chosen,” Thor laughed, lifting her back to her feet and kissing her cheek. “Your Ástvinur is intent on making an entrance,” he said quietly against her ear.

She looked again at the doors and had her breath catch.

He stood between them, the crowd still parted after Thor’s passing, giving her a perfect view. Loki appeared a God among men to her at that moment. While he may have been sporting the same black boots and breeks of his brother, that was where the similarities ended. His tunic was green and heavily worked with black and gold threads. A wide gold torque lay flat against his chest, while a coat of leather with a high collar caressed his jaw. Though it too was black, the inner edge shone with a green tinge. It hugged his frame and hung in long tails which swirled around him when he started forward. In his hand was his staff, again appearing as a cane topped with a green stone similar to the one pulsing at her throat. He swung it once before dropping the end gently to the ground.

The roll of power shook the room, caused the lights to dim and the bright blue of the stars floating amongst the sheers to flicker and dance. The blue reflected across the white floor like small spotlights.

Lauren found her gaze captured by shining green eyes full of mischief. She stepped away from the others, stepped out on gleaming white floors, and walked toward Loki.

The cane swung and landed. Magic rippled. Then petals of red and white were falling from the ceiling like snow, disappearing as soon as they came in contact with floor or person. The cane swung and landed. Wind swirled the petals, sending them blowing in a circle around them as if they met within a snowglobe.

Lauren laughed softly when she came to a stop before him. “Dramatic much?” she teased quietly.

He took her hand and bowed over it with much flair, kissing her knuckles lightly before rising. “For you, my darling, I shall always endeavour to make an entrance.” With a small smirk, he threw his staff straight up into the air where it burst into a shower of gold sparkles which rained down on them like a firework.

Lauren laughed as the music began, a timeless waltz for which Loki offered his hand. She bent to scoop up her train but the fabric seemed to leap to it without much effort, and Lauren placed her hand in his. He pulled her close, his eyes showing his heart when he took her in his arms and slipped effortlessly into the dance. He led her easily, commandingly, with strength and grace around the floor. Into turns and spins. He dipped her back over his arm and made her laugh. They danced alone, oblivious to the room full of people. Unaware of the picture they presented. Darkness and light. Power and beauty. But most of all, unflagging love and devotion.

All who looked upon them couldn’t help but sigh a little at the complete adoration on Loki’s face, nor the smile of happiness upon Lauren’s. Envy bloomed in hearts already blackened by jealousy, but for others, they could not fail to see the soul of light and compassion which poured out of Lauren.

“I feel like Cinderella, dancin’ at the ball with the prince,” Lauren sighed, perfectly content to follow where he led.

His hand upon her back kept her tight to him, the other, strong in hers, guiding her easily, his steps light and agile. “Ah, but I already know your name, elskan min, and my magic will far outlast the midnight bells. There will be no need to rush off when the clock strikes twelve.”

She looked up to his eyes, more blue than green again, and smiled coyly. “If I do leave at midnight it would only be to return to our room.”

“Darling,” he crooned softly as the music slowed to an end. “You tempt me so.” He brought her to a stop, faces close, noses touching as he smiled down at her.

Applause erupted around the room before Lauren could respond, startling her into flushing when she realized they’d danced this first dance completely alone.

Loki tilted his head in acknowledgment, as if it was expected, such accolades, and lifted her palm to his mouth. “My beloved Ástvinur!” he called out, his voice carrying above the noise. “For whom my heart beats.” He bowed to her and Lauren tried not to flush scarlet with his praise.

She let her dress drop as he led her away and other couples began to spill out onto the floor, back to where his brother was standing with seven gaping mouths.

Thor slapped Loki on the shoulder. “Well done, brother! A first dance and court greeting worthy of your Ástvinur!”

“Lu! That was so beautiful,” Sadie cried, her eyes teary. “Like the first dance at a weddin’.”

Loki slipped his arm around Lauren’s waist as the others continued to gawk. “Something to that effect, yes.”

“I’m afraid we may have stepped on mama’s toes a little. She and Daddy usually dance the first dance.” Lauren refused to feel bad though, not after that performance. The party was in full swing and when the two small bodies pushed through the crowd followed by a furry one, Lauren crouched down and held out her arms. “Sugar cubes!”

“Aunt Lu! You look like a princess!” Sara giggled, reaching to touch Lauren’s circlet.

“Of course she does, precious.” Loki swiftly scooped Sara up into his arms where a crackle of magic had her dress and hair looking perfect. “That’s because she is one.”

Lauren ignored him in favour of hugging a shocked and staring Benny and scratching the ears of a wiggly Usun, but when she made to pick Benny up, Thor snuck him away. “Hey!”

“Ladies in gowns of snowy white should not be picking up small boys who have a tendency to have sticky fingers,” Thor teased, rubbing at what was likely a chocolate stain on Benny’s chin.

“What in the… what… what’s happening here?” Tony asked. His mouth hung open as he stared at all of them.

Steve and Natasha didn’t look much better, though Bucky and Pepper seemed to have taken things in stride.

Lauren accepted the offered glass of refreshed wine from Marcus with a grateful smile. “Everyone, this is Sara and Benny, my niece and nephew, and the puppy is Usun. Sugar cubes, this is Miss Romanoff, Mr. Barnes, Mr. Stark, Miss Potts and Mr. Rogers.”

“That ain’t right!” Benny gushed, finally finding his voice. “That’s Captain America, the Winter Soldier, the Black Widow and Iron Man! Aunt Lu, you brought home my favourite Avenger!”

“Nice to see the boy has good taste,” Tony smirked.

“Captain America? Did you brin’ your shield?” Benny asked, his eyes bright with excitement.

The group as a whole burst out laughing while Tony pouted.

Steve glanced from Benny to Lauren before reaching out to take the boy from Thor. “It just so happens I did, but it’s out in the helicopter.”

“Can I see?” Benny begged.

“Oh, Benny, I don’t think that’s-” Lauren started when Steve held up his hand.

“It’s alright, Lauren. Not the first time someone’s asked.” Steve gave her a smile.

“Lauren! Lauren Guillemin!” Magnolia snapped as she stormed up to the group and snatched her by the arm. “I really must speak with you, right now.”

It was almost a growl, one Usun returned with equal fervour, a sound her mother ignored.

There was a fire of retribution in Magnolia’s eyes which sent a shiver of fear down Lauren’s spine. Then, the stone at her throat warmed reminding her there was nothing more her mother could do to her. “I would, mama, but first,” she lifted her gaze to Loki’s and smiled, “let me introduce my guests.” She went around the circle, introducing each of the team, ending with Steve. “And I’m sure y’all are familiar with my friend Captain Steve Rogers,” she said, sending a cheeky grin her father’s way when Hoyt arrived to deal with Magnolia.

“Oh… oh, my,” Magnolia gasped, bringing her hand to her throat. “These are the Avengers. Why I never… and in my house. Hoyt, do you see!”

“Indeed I do,” Hoyt said, nodding to the group at large. “It’s a pleasure. Y’all are welcome here. Magnolia, why don’t you see about gettin’ rooms arranged for Lauren’s guests.”

“No need to go to any trouble,” Pepper began.

“Nonsense!” Magnolia stepped in. “Why y’all can’t be goin’ all the way back to New York tonight. I won’t hear of it. You’re our guests now, and we’ll see you done up right. I’ll have the maids see everyone situated.”

“Five rooms, mama. Don’t forget about Thor,” Lauren reminded her gently.

“Of course I wouldn’t forget about Thor!” Magnolia quipped before marching away.

Hoyt leaned down and whispered near Lauren’s ear, “You’re mama was madder than a wet hen, but you looked beautiful out there, sweetheart.”

“Thanks, daddy,” she whispered back, blushing with his praise.

“Your friends saved me from stoppin’ one wicked tongue lashin’ for sure,” he chuckled as he walked away, heading for the bar.

“Sadie.” Marcus tugged on the brunette’s arm. “C’mon, hun.”

“Worrisome old woman,” Sadie grumbled. “He’s makin’ me sit and eat, but I’ll be back. Don’t y’all go doin’ somethin’ fun till I get back.”

Lauren shook her head. “Go on, Sadie.”

Marcus gave her a grateful smile and pulled Sadie away.

One by one, or in some cases pairs, they parted as Steve took Benny to see his shield and Bucky tagged along. Thor caught Natasha’s hand and swept her out on the dance floor. Tony and Pepper soon followed, along with Loki and Sara who reminded the God of Mischief that he’d promised her a dance. Loki had smiled apologetically, but Lauren motioned them away.

If she had to lose him to another female for a dance, it might as well be Sara. She watched him sway with her among the other dancers, earning looks of amusement when he made Sara giggle as Lauren sipped her second glass of wine with Usun sitting at her feet.

The crisp taste of the tart grapes was refreshing and helped soothe the last lingering feeling of apprehension. She’d had her confrontation with Marabeth. She’d had, sort of, another with her mother. For the most part, she should be free and clear. Those were usually the two biggest hurdles during one of these events. Dodging the unwanted advances of persistent dance partners was the last, but even they seemed cautious tonight.

Jasper Rubin, of the worst breath award, had only given her a nod before casting a nervous glance Loki’s way. Clive Osborn hadn’t even made eye contact. Addicus Webber was courting some swallow faced girl, possibly a Sanders.

They had nine daughters. At this point, Lauren had given up remembering which one was which. So when the hand landed on her elbow, Lauren pasted on a smile, prepared to decline the invitation to dance, and turned.

She paled as she came face to face with Cricket and Davis.

George Montgomery’s parents.

Next Chapter

#balance #loki #loki laufeyson #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #god of mischief #god of mischief fanfiction #avengers #the avengers #avengers au #avengers fanfiction #southern belle

[leora-strauss]

An Interview with the Bard

► Name ➔    "Leora Strauss, at your service!”

► Are you single ➔ “Nope!”

► Are you happy ➔   “Happier than I’ve ever been in my life! I’m doing what I’ve always wanted to do, and I’m surrounded by friends and people who I absolutely adore!”

► Are you angry? ➔   “Not really, no. I mean, I’ve had the occasional bit of passionate shouting here and there out in the field but I’ve never really swung into a rage in...Tides, not since I started the Society!”

► Are your parents still married ➔   “Not anymore, unfortunately. I received word about a month ago that my father had died of some sort of infection or possibly tuberculosis. I haven’t gotten much information about the matter apart from that he’s passed—it’s rather difficult to get much information off of Kul Tiras these days. They were together before he passed on to the Tidemother though. ”

NINE FACTS

► Birth Place ➔ “I was born on my family’s Winter Estate out in the Stormsong Valley in Kul Tiras.”

► Hair Color ➔ “Very dark brown, almost black!”

► Eye Color ➔ “Nothing particularly special; a nice hazel colour—like polished oak!”

► Birthday ➔ “The 8th of March!”

► Mood ➔ “I’ve been described as excitable and generally enthusiastic. I’d probably have to agree with them.”

► Gender ➔ “I identify myself as a woman.”

► Summer or winter ➔ “Absolutely Summer! That’s when the world is in bloom, the suns out for most of the day, and you can spend it amongst good friends and company while you enjoy the warm outdoors! Of course, Winter has it’s upsides as well, but I much prefer Summer”

► Morning or afternoon ➔ “I much prefer mornings. I enjoy getting up a bit before dawn and enjoying the quietness of the world as it starts to wake up as well. Perfect time for going for a run as well!”

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE

► Are you in love ➔ “Head over absolute heels.”

► Do you believe in love at first sight ➔ “More than anything! It may not happen often, or for everyone one, but I absolutely believe it!“

► Who ended your last relationship ➔ “The one I’m in is honestly my first and only.”

► Have you ever broken someone’s heart ➔  “I have and I was called out for it because I didn’t even know at the time. I just hope I haven’t done that more than once—I’d feel absolutely dreadful!”

► Are you afraid of commitments ➔ “You know—for someone who prefers hook-ups and no labels—I’m surprisingly not. I like the idea of opening up and being exclusive to somebody, I just despise committing to labels or relationship styles that can sometimes make people they need to suffer in silence or cheat behind their partners back.”

► Have you hugged someone within the last week? ➔ “Darn right, I have! What’s the point of having arms if you’re not going to use them for hugs?”

► Have you ever had a secret admirer ➔ “I don’t believe so. Honestly, I don’t think I’m the type to get those sorts of things—I’m surrounded by beautiful people who are worldly and cultured. I’m more the type to try and get the admirer and admired together rather than be either or!”

► Have you ever broken your own heart? ➔ “I don’t even know how I’d do that?”

SIX CHOICES

► Love or lust ➔ “There’s an old poet who I think said it best, ‘Lust is the fire but love is the warmth’. You can have one without the other but the best relationships have a balance of both! If I had to choose one, though, I’d probably choose love over lust.”

► Cats or Dogs ➔ “Can’t hunt and go hiking with a cat, now can you? As someone who’s owned one for most of her life dogs all the way!”

► A few best friends or many regular friends ➔ “Better idea, many best friends!”

► Wild night out or romantic night in ➔ “As much as I love a romantic night in, with its idyllic charm and quiet atmosphere, I think I’d choose a wild night out with my partner. Something wild and free that we can enjoy together; like dancing until dawn at a party or go cliff-diving! Something that makes memories that we can share.”

► Day or night ➔ “Day, by far! As gorgeous as the evening can be sometimes in the summer, I find that I just enjoy being in the sunshine far more.”

FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS

► Been caught sneaking out ➔ “I never had to sneak around; I honestly had free reign past the age of ten. If I wanted to go out and dawdle the streets then I would! That freedom actually put me on the path to who I am now in a lot of ways and I’m thankful for never having to sneak out.”

► Fallen down/up the stairs ➔ “Surprisingly, I never have! I think you learn to be careful when you live in houses with hard marble stairs—never the best place to fall on your face.”

► Wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? ➔ “Best way to live, I find! Living with that constant need, that hunger, for improvement and always desperately chasing after something makes you a better person! Having things you want to chase that badly forces you to improve yourself and to become a more able person!”

► Wanted to disappear ➔ “From existence itslef? Never. From a society or social circles? I came to the mainland for that reason.”

FOUR PREFERENCES

► Smile or eyes ➔ “Where eyes are the windows to the soul I’ve always preferred a wide smile. Everyone always exclaims that ‘Oh, you can fake a smile easily’ and I’d disagree with that. You can tell a real smile over a fake one; one that shines and where the person doesn’t give a damn on what it looks like. A dopey smile is the most dazzling thing in the world to me.”

► Shorter or Taller ➔ “Taller. Perhaps it comes from me being a rather lanky, willowy sort but I’ve always enjoyed someone who was a bit larger than me! Someone who can pick me up or rest their arm on the top of my head. I don’t know, big fellows and ladies just make me want to swoon!”

► Intelligence or Attraction ➔  “Intelligence by far. I prefer somebody I can talk philosophy and poetry with but also has a sharp mind and other interest that I don’t share. I like being taught things and having my world expanded and I’d want to do the same for a partner.”

► Hook-up or Relationship ➔ Strauss thought for a moment, “I suppose it depends on what you mean by a relationship. If we’re defining a relationship simply by the most official forms—like a spouse or a significant other—over say something more unofficial such as a lover or a friend you hook-up with, I think I’d prefer the more unofficial ‘hook-up’. A relationship can be forced—courting and marriage at the end of the day is a socio-economic mechanism and are easily forced and coerced. A hook-up or a friend with benefits is able to walk away from me if we fall out of love or lust and I can do the same. Give me that sort of freedom any day!”

FAMILY

► Do you and your family get along ➔ “Some of us do! Others of us don’t. I have twenty-five other siblings ranging from my younger brother of twenty to my eldest sister of fifty-two. They have their own children, who each have their own opinions on one another. That many people, partnered with the business aspect of the family, can throw a wrench into things. My eldest sister said it best, ‘Favourites aside, we can function and that’s all a family needs to do.’”

► Would you say you have a “messed up life” ➔ “Far from it! Many people have lived hard lives in poverty or seen conflict on their very doorstep. I’ve had the luxury of a good education in an extremely wealthy family. My life has been the farthest thing from messed up!”

► Have you ever ran away from home ➔ “Oh no, I wouldn’t dream of it!”

► Have you ever gotten kicked out ➔ “Haven’t had that happen either. Again, I’ve lived in luxury for most of my life. Never had to worry about things like that—if someone didn’t get along in our household they’d just go live in one of our other estates for a while until things cooled off.”

FRIENDS

► Do you secretly hate one of your friends ➔ “Tidemother, that’s awful! You can’t just string someone along and call them a friend if you hate them. That’s dishonest and dishonourable!”

► Do you consider all of your friends good friends ➔ “More than anything. I can hardly pick a best from the whole lot of them—they’re all wonderfully amazing people who I consider all good friends!”

► Who is your best friend ➔ “Oof. That’s a very, very tricky one. If I had to choose one though it’d probably be Roxlyn Emberglow! She’s always there for me and I adore her for it!”

► Who knows everything about you? ➔  “I try not to share too much about myself to anyone, I always feel it comes off as a mixture of either bragging or whining. That, and I’d much rather listen to other people about their lives over mine! But if I had to choose one, I’d probably say Adrannath Sunspyre! We simply talked one time in Uldum and we got onto the topic of my family. Of everyone on the mainland, he probably knows the most!”

Tagged by: @patiencekindnesscourage

Tagging: Who nelly which one of y’all hasn’t done this? If you haven’t I want you (Yes, you the person reading this at this very moment) to do this!

#Strauss Memes

[hirasenshi]

Kiss the Girl

Characters: Shiro, Pidge, Coran Pairings: Shiro/Pidge Summary:

When the Paladins return to Earth finally to discover it's almost Christmas, there's a large party thrown by the Holt, McClain, and Garrett families to celebrate. All of the Paladins and their friends are in attendance except for one.

And so they plan.

Notes: 

Written for @lesbiansforshaladin on tumblr for the @shaladinsecretsanta event.

I hope you guys enjoy, and have a happy holiday season (even though it's almost over!) and happy new year!

Actual note: Pidge is more than old enough in this to be doing things, this is like, 5 years or so in the future from canon.

Work on AO3

The sounds of the castle ship echoed about Shiro, the hallways seeming oddly silent of signs of life aside from his own. Of course, that made sense given he was the only one on the ship at that moment, the others being out and about at the giant party being held at the Garrison.

It hadn’t been very long at all since Zarkon had finally fell, with the assistance of his only son, Lotor. Knowing that this was likely to be the best time for the human (and partially human) Paladins to see their family after five to six years, and so they had returned to Earth, three families reunited while Keith and Shiro just enjoyed seeing what they had known in their younger years, and just in time for a large celebratory party to be held.

The party, however, was celebrating not just the return of the Holts, Lance, and Hunk, but also the Christmas season. While Shiro was more than glad that they had made it home, that they had found their families, he just...wasn’t feeling the holiday season.

When others had tried to stay back as well, they had been convinced. Hunk assured Keith and Coran that his mother would love them. Lance said the same to Lotor and Allura. So everyone else had gone, leaving Shiro on his own with the castle ship, parked out by the Garrison.

Of course, everyone had expected that Shiro would be there, no one tried to coerce him to go, so it wasn’t until it was too late, after the party was in full swing before anyone realized that he wasn’t there. And honestly, he didn’t mind that, it meant he wouldn’t ruin the mood for the party, and he would have some time for himself.

The only thing he hadn’t anticipated was that it would be so lonely. It was nice for a little bit, but then the lack of sounds of life were starting to get to him before long. So he turned himself around, moving away from the bridge and making his way to the Black Lion’s hangar. War might be over, but the lions were still there -- and there was always the chance that Voltron would be needed again in the future -- was still needed even now. The bonds between the Lions and Paladins were stronger than ever, especially Black with Shiro.

If nothing else, at least he wouldn’t feel so alone, even if Black didn’t make much in the way of sound. Her presence would be enough...theoretically. However, his arrival in the hangar was met with a rather cool silence -- even feeling her presence it was somewhat faint, almost as if she was enjoying a nap. (Who knew giant robotic cats enjoyed naps as much as their natural counterparts?)

He went to sit beside her paw, not wanting to go anywhere else, before hearing a beeping sound. Curious, he hopped up, moving to the nearest console to let the communications patch through. Coran’s face appeared on the screen, somewhat shaky and in lower quality than they were used to -- must be using someone’s phone.

“Hello? Hello? Shiro, are you there?”

“Yes, Coran, I’m here, what do you need?” Shiro tried to not sound too eager, but he really did want something to do.

“Number five is missing, we don’t know where she is. We’re looking but we don’t have access to the things we’re used to over here -- can you see if you can track her? It shouldn’t be too difficult, and she can’t have gone too far, we just…”

“Alright, don’t worry, Coran, I’ll find her. You keep looking, and I’ll let you know when I find her if you don’t find her first, okay?”

“Thank you, Shiro.” The smile on Coran’s face looked less relieved and more...scheming, but Shiro thought nothing of it. Coran never really did respond how one would expect, so he just brushed it off as a quirk of the older Altean man as he shut off the communications, quickly tabbing to the program that kept track of the castle’s inhabitants. The program was something that was kept going just in case, so that there was a bit of security, knowing that they could always find each other so long as they kept the trackers on them.

Thinking it highly unlikely that Pidge would have run into trouble, that was the first place Shiro had looked and luckily, he had a clear ping to her location. He didn’t even hesitate before grabbing a jacket to toss over his outfit and slipping on a pair of gloves. While he wasn’t ashamed of his prosthetic, he knew that there wasn’t anything quite like it on Earth -- and he was in too much of a hurry to find Pidge, find out what had happened with his youngest teammate.

_________

It didn’t take too long for him to find her -- using the cycle that loaded into his lion, he managed to get to where the tracker said she was, which was not too far from the party. He didn’t see anyone out there initially -- neither Pidge nor those who were supposed to be looking for her. Hopping off the cycle, he removed his helmet and looked around cautiously.

The war was over, but that didn’t mean that danger was completely ruled out. Still, just looking wouldn’t get the job done, so he cupped his gloved hands around his mouth and began to call, “Pidge? Katie? Are you here?”

He called for a couple of minutes before something came into view. For all that the Galaxy Garrison was a military installation, there were civilians there as well, and they wanted things to look nice and not just utilitarian and functional. There was a little fountain spouting water upward, splashing into the container below, and a young woman stood before it.

There was a long, long moment before Shiro realized the woman standing in the light of the setting sun was in fact the woman he had been looking for, clad in a clingy green dress, revealing the curves that had been hidden by her typical choice in attire, her hair left to cascade past her shoulders in gentle curls. While they all knew that Pidge was indeed a lady, they didn’t really see it. Even as her hair grew out, she never let it hang loose like it was now, and her clothing was always baggy -- but functional. But this...this was far from the small teen they had initially known, had initially thought was a boy.

“Oh, Shiro, I wasn’t expecting you.” Pidge’s voice sounded amused -- as if she expected the opposite , had known he would be coming to look for her. “I was just admiring the view out here...it’s so different, knowing what we know now, knowing what all is out there…”

“Pidge, you’ve been out here a while, the others were getting worried about you,” Shiro let out a sigh, shaking his head. “Coran even called me to look for you...are you alright?” He stepped closer, still somewhat in awe of how she looked now -- wearing heels that made her seem even taller, even older, definitely looking more like a woman.

‘Get it together, Shirogane, Pidge has always been a woman,’ he thought to himself irritably, because it was true -- she had always been one. But it had never been quite so noticeable as it was now. Standing beside her, he could easily lean forward and take a deep breath and inhale her scent -- lightly covered with perfume and oh how he wanted to but he wouldn’t because he had to protect her, his precious teammate.

“I’m sorry, I just wanted a moment alone. You know, I was kind of sad you didn’t show up to the party,” large brown eyes turned to look up at him, “I wanted to be able to just hang out with you a bit, let you meet my mom and all -- ‘cause I don’t think she’s actually met you yet. She’s just heard about you from me, and Dad, and Matt.”

“I’m sorry, I just...wanted some time on my own, that’s all.” Shiro felt guilt swelling up inside of him, but luckily Pidge was right there, ready to stomp it out.

“No, no, it’s alright, I get it. We all do. But, really, you don’t have to distance yourself from us. You don’t have to hide from us, from me.”

“Why would I hide from you?” His response was instinctive, even as he realized Pidge was right -- he had been pulling away, hiding himself from the rest, much like Keith had before. “I -- I didn’t mean to, I just --” He sighed, shaking his head. “I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?” Trying to lighten the mood was always a good distraction, even if it wasn’t something Shiro was the best at -- he could at least make the attempt.

Though seeing the small smirk on Pidge’s face almost instantly had Shiro shaking in his boots metaphorically. She was absolutely terrifying when she got an idea in her head, and it was made worse whenever she smirked. Before he could ask, see what was going on, she was speaking, “Well, you could call me Katie for starters.”

“Huh?” Now Shiro was utterly confused -- she had been the one to insist on Pidge, years ago, and it had stuck as what they used, but now suddenly she wanted to be Katie? “Well, I -- alright, I can do that, but I can’t do that for the entire team.” Nervous laughter bubbled out.

“Of course you can’t, but that’s just for me...besides, while the others are worried, I don’t think they’re in quite the same situation as me. Shiro, you...do realize I’m an adult now, right?” Those large brown eyes looked up at him again, and he was struck once more by how much older she looked than when they had first began. They all looked older, granted, but Pidge -- Katie had been the one to change the most. The others had gotten a bit more refined, but were all so close to adulthood that there wasn’t much left.

Katie had been fifteen when this all started. Now, she was nineteen and clearly not just their tech expert. (Though, really, Shiro, she never had been just the tech expert.)

“P--Katie, what does that have to do with anything…?” He felt his stomach doing flips, his heart fluttering a bit in his chest even as his face flushed lightly.

“I mean, Shiro, that I want...I mean, if you wanted to, I wanted to...perhaps...if you’d be willing, if you wanted to be my boyfriend?” Katie wasn’t all that great at getting words out, looking flustered at the thought of talking about emotions, and Shiro was overwhelmed with feelings.

Feelings, and an urge to just lean forward just a little, just enough that their faces were a scant distance apart and -- oh no, he gave in to that urge, feeling her breath on his face, her eyes -- not hidden by glasses -- right in front of his and he closed the distance, pressing his lips against hers, firm but gentle, there only for a short time before Katie was pressing back, her arms going to wrap around Shiro’s neck.

The kiss didn’t last long, Shiro pulling his head back to break the kiss, pressing his forehead against Katie’s, smiling softly. “I think I’d like that, Katie.”

There was soft laughter from the woman wrapped about his neck, his arms moving to hold her close. “Good! My boyfriend...that will take some getting used to.”

“I’m sure we’ll get there, eventually.” Shiro smiled. “Merry Christmas, Katie.”

“Welcome home, Shiro.”

And he really was home. Because home wasn’t a place, it was those that he loved.

#lesbiansforshaladin #shaladinsecretsanta #shaladinsecretsanta2k17 #shidge #pidge #shiro vld #yeaaaaah #finally got this finished #:D