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shemarmooresfedora · 3 years

Text

Rebuilding Family

Summary: Y/N and Spencer were college sweethearts at Cal-Tech but once Spencer got accepted to the FBI Academy, he ended things deciding it was not fair to make Y/N wait for him. When they meet again years later, he discovers something unexpected.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

A/N: no fic-related news but i did get my first dose of the covid vaccine today so that’s exciting! GET VAXXED, PEOPLE! SPENCER WOULD WANT YOU TO!!

Masterlist

Chapter 20

“Hey Hotch,” Spencer knocked on his boss’s door.

Spencer got in extra early today to have his meeting with Hotch and hopefully tie up all the loose ends in his paperwork.

“Reid, come in,” Hotch gestured to one of the chairs in front of his desk.

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and talking with Y/N and I think my time at the BAU is coming to an end,” Spencer said.

“I see,” Hotch leaned back in his chair, “Well, I think it goes without saying that you would certainly be missed. But, I’m not going to try to convince you to stay because I feel like this is a good decision for you...one I probably should have made myself if we’re being completely honest.”

“You made it work though, Jack loves his superhero dad,” Spencer reassured him, “I just can’t keep missing stuff after already missing six years. It’s too much and I certainly can’t focus on cases when I’m desperately wishing I was somewhere else.”

“How about this? We put you on temporary unpaid leave for a year. Then, you can either choose to come back or quit for good. This will give you plenty of family time and then you’ll see if you’re ever ready to return or not. It’s up to you. Also, if I just put you on leave, it can start as early as tomorrow. Instead of you just quitting and then having to put your two weeks in and be called away on more cases.”

“That sounds great, Hotch. Thank you so much for your understanding. If I don’t come back, it was a pleasure working with you. But I’m sure I will see you around at Rossi’s dinner parties,” Spencer grinned.

Hotch and Spencer hugged before pulling away to see the rest of the team filing into the bullpen.

“I guess I have to tell them,” Spencer sighed, knowing they would be a little disappointed at the sudden news.

“Hey guys, I have an announcement,” Spencer walked out of Hotch’s office.

“You have another secret daughter?” Derek joked.

“Y/N is pregnant?” Penelope guessed.

“You’re engaged?” Emily asked.

“Um no to all, I know this is a bit sudden and I apologize for that but effective tomorrow, I will be taking a year long leave from the BAU which may turn permanent,” Spencer spoke softly.

Silence filled the room.

“It’s not that I don’t love this job or you guys. You all know you are my best friends but I just really need to be home with my family right now,” Spencer explained.

Derek was the first to walk up to Spencer, “We’re gonna miss you around here, kid.”

He pulled Spencer in for a hug, ruffling up his hair.

Penelope was next in line to hug Spencer with a tissue already dabbing at her eyes.

“I hate to see you go, Boy Wonder, but I know it’s what’s best for you,” she said.

“I think Jo may be an even stricter boss than Hotch,” Rossi teased.

“She does have a tendency to get grumpy when she isn’t allowed to have ice cream for dinner,” Spencer laughed lightly, wiping the tears that were forming from his eyes.

“Please don’t ever stop talking. I know we tease you but I truly am going to miss your rambles,” Emily whispered.

“I’m just a phone call away,” he promised.

“You deserve this. Do not feel bad,” JJ reminded him.

He nodded in acknowledgement, his voice getting caught in the lump in his throat.

“We need a cake!” Penelope exclaimed, “I will not have the Good Doctor’s last day be cakeless especially with that sweet tooth of his.”

“On it,” Derek said, grabbing his keys.

“Decorations too! See if Party City has a Happy Retirement section!” she shouted after him.

“You’ve got it, baby girl,” Derek replied.

Spencer returned home in the evening with a cardboard box full of his belongings that once resided on his desk. 7 years of his career packed into one box. It seemed sad to him that such a big chapter of his life was closing.

But then, he walked inside. You and Jo had karaoke up on the TV screen. You both were currently in the middle of Wannabe by the Spice Girls. Jo even had her baseball cap on backwards to complete the look.

“If you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my friends. Make it last forever, friendship never ends. If you wanna be my lover, you have got to give. Taking is too easy, but that's the way it is,” Jo sang.

Then you jumped in, “So, here's a story from A to Z. You wanna get with me, you gotta listen carefully. We got Em in the place who likes it in your face. You got G like MC who likes it on a

Easy V doesn't come for free, she's a real lady. And as for me, ha you'll see.”

“Slam your bodies down and wind it all around,” you both sang.

You turned around to see Spencer standing there and you let out a yelp.

“Oh no, please continue. Don’t stop on my account,” he grinned.

“Daddy!” Jo jumped up into his arms.

He moved Jo to his hip as you approached.

“Hi, love,” you greeted him with a kiss.

He was no longer sad. This was the right choice. This is where he belonged.

“Shhh” is the first thing you heard as you awoke followed by the quiet rattling of dishes.

“Jo, no!” you heard Spencer whisper-shout, “I said not until Mommy wakes up.”

“I’m up,” you muttered into your pillow.

You turned to the side of your bed to see Jo standing there with a tray of food and Spencer behind her with a bouquet of flowers.

You smiled softly.

“Happy Mother’s Day!” they both cheered.

“Thank you, my loves,” you gave them both kisses, accepting the tray from Jo as Spencer set the flower vase down on your bedside table.

The food on the tray consisted of a mug of coffee, a cup of orange juice, bacon, a bowl of blueberries, and a big chocolate chip pancake with sliced strawberries for the eyes and nose and a whipped cream smile.

“Very artistic,” you grinned.

Spencer returned next to you in bed, getting under the covers. He was wearing a plain gray fitted t-shirt, flannel PJ pants, and his glasses.

“Jo, you can go get your present for Mommy while she eats,” he suggested.

Once Jo left the room to go retrieve her gift, you planted a much messier kiss on Spencer’s lips.

“Not that I’m complaining but what was that for?” he smirked.

“You know how sexy I told you those glasses make you look,” you stated, taking a bite of a strip of bacon.

“I’ll keep them on all day then as part of your gift,” he smiled.

Jo crawled on to the bed with a wrapped box and an envelope taped to it. The card was clearly homemade by Jo and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Look at this beautiful artwork!” you exclaimed, opening the card.

Inside was a gift card for a spa downtown surrounded by Jo’s doodles.

“JJ said that place was really nice. There’s enough on there for you and a friend to get a full day of pampering,” Spencer said.

“Well, that’s good that she likes it because I will probably bring her along as my fellow mom. Thank you both,” you smiled.

Jo pushed the wrapped box towards you. You opened it to find a multi-colored beaded necklace.

“I made it for you, Mommy,” Jo beamed as you put it on over your head.

“That is so very thoughtful of you,” you kissed her forehead, “It fits me perfectly and you even included my favorite color.”

“I planned a picnic for today but if you would rather stay home and relax all day, I totally get it. Jo and I can go to the park and you can have some peace and quiet,” Spencer offered.

“Are you kidding me? It’s called Mother’s Day, I want to spend some time with the little girl who made me the luckiest one in the entire world,” you smiled.

“Picnic, it is then. I’ll get Jo all dressed and the bag packed. Here, let me take that,” Spencer left the room, balancing Jo on one hip and your tray of dirty dishes on the other.

You were really going to have to bring your all for Father’s Day next month.

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer x reader #reid x reader #cm fanfic #criminal minds

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lavenderwhore444 · 3 years

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Heyoo so I’ve been thinking about this for a while

✨ maid shigaraki✨

So imagine this ur a successful business woman god knows how many companies u own, u live in this mansion( or whatever house u want) of course u have maids and butlers, u always had liked that one maid shigaraki he was adorable and always blushing and apologizing for any mistakes he made, u always made him clean ur office just to watch him that made him super nervous he thought u were gonna fire him, not to mention every time he bent down u can see that really cute pink lacy panties u oh so love, shigaraki liked u a lot but he knows he doesn’t have a chance with u I mean look at u !!! Ur amazing and gorgeous and him will u know plus he knows he’s only a maid nothing else to u (little does he know how much u adore him), let’s say he was cleaning ur desk and drops something and breaks he panics hard ( he’s almost hyperventilating) he runs to his room to hides he knows this is his last day, u were shocked when u heard glass breaking u thought shigaraki got hurt when u came to check u found him gone ( tbh u couldn’t give a fuck what happened to that glass) u looked everywhere u didn’t find him so u called one of the butlers to get him, they finally found him, poor baby was shaking while talking to u, u were upset why was he that scared of u?? then it hit u the best idea ever he can make it up to u, u started to shush him telling him it’s ok he can make it up, he of course accepted he will do anything for u, u brought him to ur desk and to sit on ur lap he was blushing like crazy u started to talk about how much u love him, he’s like a precious jewel (ngl that made him emotional he never thought he was that important to u)to u but u were upset that he hates u or ( u thought he didn’t like u) he panicked confessed at this point u couldn’t wait so u bend him over the desk and flapping the skirt of the dress to reveal his cute lacy panties, u wanted to punish him for breaking that glass so u spanked him for bit, at this point shigaraki was a mess moaning and whining for u to fuck him. Let’s say u never were this thankful for a glass to break

♥️Kinks as always sub shigaraki and a dom reader I would say a master kink or a mommy one u can pick and a happy ending since I don’t have it in me , loll I kind of run out of ideas for kinks , OH MAYBE U CAN PEG HIM TOO SINCE U BEND HIM OVER THE DESK, why did i think of that now anyways I hope u liked my idea as always don’t forget to drink water and get plenty of rest ♥️

-🤡

Glass

Warnings: Shiggy gets his ass eaten (as he deserves) MISTRESS KINK?! MY FIRST ONE?! anal fingering, anal penetration with toy.

By the time this is posted, I will be a fully vaccinated queen 😫🤚🏻

tbh I'm back in my mfing zone now that school is over.

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Another day, another dollar. Well, another 10,000 dollars in your case. You were the image of success. You had everything you could ask for, except someone who cared about you. Who really cared about you. Money couldn't buy you love, and even if it did, you're not sure you’d want it. No, you wanted true love��the type of love you see in your home theater. But you'd never have that. Instead, everyone saw you as a walking bag of money. They felt they were guaranteed a new house and car if they kissed you well enough (they never did).

Although, there was one person that you cared about. His name was Tomura Shigaraki. You weren't mean, but truthfully you never made an effort to learn the names of the others. You had a huge crush on him. You knew it was impossible, that kind of love that only worked out in movies, and this wasn't a movie. This was real life, and real-life was harsh. All you could do was admire him, watch him work, and gaze at him lovingly. If only he knew, if only he knew how you got butterflies when you saw him.

He looked so cute when he bent down to get something. When he was hired, you had run out of male uniforms, so he was stuck in a tiny maids dress and the undergarments to match. You never mentioned it to him when you had gotten more uniforms, and he didn't ask for a new one. You were so glad he didn't, the little dress barely covered his cute butt, and the white lacy panties under it peeked out as he cleaned. He was immediately assigned to clean your office every day. No matter how clean it was, he was tasked to come in every day and dust the spotless shelves.

He seemed to hate you, though. He’d come in and clean as fast as he could and leave immediately. It broke your heart; you tried to be kind and make small talk, but he just wasn't interested. Or so it seemed. Secretly he just got so flustered when he was with you that he couldn't stand it. He was just so scared that he'd make a mess and lose his job. You looked so intimidating sitting in your big chair with your expensive clothes.

The first time he made a mistake, he was terrified. He dropped a book and froze. He was close to tears. After that, he repeatedly apologized, offering to pack his things, but you just knelt next to him and put a finger to his lips.

“It’s okay, Tomura, ” you said, “it’s just a book. Please don't worry, ”

The use of his name, his first name, gave him butterflies like never before.

“Th-thank you, ma’am, ” he stuttered.

“No need for formalities, call me y/n, ” you said, standing up to take your seat once again.

“Thank you y/n, ” he whispered.

He was frozen. God, what a beautiful name. It just rolled off his tongue so perfectly. He finished his job quickly and went back to his room. He sat there for hours just saying your name, hearing it, tasting it. You were so beautiful, so powerful in your big leather chair, looking down at the world. Because you were above them all, you were at the top. You had made it in a way no one else could dream of.

What you did next could be considered mean, but...you just had to see more of him, so you made your office a mess. He came in and was quite surprised.

“I'm so sorry, Tomura. I worked late, and things just got...well y’know, ” you said, gesturing to your office.

“Please don't be sorry! It's my job, ma’am. I mean y/n, I'm so sorry!” Shigaraki rambled.

You laughed a little “it’s alright, Tomura. You don't have to apologize for anything, ” you assured him.

“Thank you y/n, ” he said, getting right to work.

Wrappers and bottles were thrown away and recycled; what a good boy saving the earth. For once, he took his time, no longer scared of you but still self-conscious when he bent down. Maybe he should ask you for a new uniform.

“I’ll be right back, ” you said, “you're doing a great job Tomura, ”

He smiled to himself as he worked until he broke a glass. He broke one of your glasses. Oh god, no. His face fell immediately. How could he let this happen? He was doing such a good job, but he...he let you down. This was it. He was fired, and he knew it. He’d never see you again. Never hear your laugh or watch you furrow your eyebrows as you wrote. He couldn't face you. He ran to his room, already beginning to pack his things.

You rushed towards your office at the sound. What happened? Was tomura hurt? Your mind raced as you ran back. What if Tomura stepped in the broken glass? Or it cut him? You'd feel guilty forever. You slammed open the door, but he had already left. You looked in all the rooms of the floor you were currently on to no avail.

“Hey um, you, ” you called to one of the butlers standing in the hall.

“Yes, madam?”

“Could you tell me where Tomura is? Light blue hair, red eyes?” you asked.

“Yes, he ran off to his room. He looked pretty spooked, ” he replied.

You sighed in relief, “thank you, could you fetch him for me?”

“Of course, ” he nodded, walking off.

You sat impatiently in your office, waiting for him. You checked to see what had broken. Oh, the vase your ex-mother-in-law gave you. You'd have to thank him later. He stumbled into your office, crying quietly. He was shaking as he walked up to your desk, barely keeping his balance.

“I'm so sorry, ” he whimpered, “I didn't mean to, I just was cleaning, and it slipped, and I'm so sorry I messed up. I'm already halfway done packing my things. It's ok you don't have to say anything, ”

“It’s okay, ” you soothed, “I know you didn't mean to. I'm not firing you, Tomura. It's alright, ”

“I know I- what?” he stuttered, “you're not firing me?”

“Of course not. It was a harmless mistake. I've meant to get rid of it for a while anyway, ” you said, “but you still broke the glass, and I think you can make it up to me. Would that be ok?”

He nodded with tears still in his eyes, “I’ll do anything, ”

You took his hand and led him over to your desk. You sat down and patted your lap.

“Come sit, ” you said.

He sat in your lap hesitantly, not putting his full weight on you. You pulled him all the way into your lap.

“Dont be shy, ” you said.

You wrapped your arms around his waist and rested your chin on his shoulder.

“Tomura, why don't you like me?” You asked, “you're always so distant. Can you tell me what I did? I won't be mad, ”

“What do you mean?” he asked, head whipping around to face you.

“You never talk to me. You clean so fast that I barely see you for more than five minutes, ” you explained.

You sighed and stroked his cheek, “Tomura, I like you. I like you a lot. I’d never hurt you, or yell at you, or fire you. You're so special to me. The only reason I have you clean my office is so I can see you. You're the best part of my day. I have a lot of expensive things. Jewelry, clothes, cars, but none of them are as valuable as you, ”

“I don't hate you, I promise! I just get so nervous cause you're so pretty and successful, and you probably think I'm pathetic because this is all I'm good for. I'm just a maid, and you're such a powerful woman. I just didn't want to fuck u- I'm so sorry!” he stuttered.

“Tomura, you don't have to apologize for saying fuck. Do you have any idea what I screamed at my last business meeting? It was much worse than fuck, ” you giggled.

He blushed, “thank you. What I'm trying to say is that I really like you, but I get nervous because I might mess everything up, ”

You pecked him on the cheek, “you won't mess anything up, I promise. I feel the same way. How would you like to become my um personal assistant? You could hang out with me all day, pay is good, you won't really have to do any work, ”

“I- I’d love that so much y/n, ” he beamed.

“Yeah? Alright then, but um, I like your uniform as is, ” you teased.

He blushed, covering his face. You chuckled again, leaning down to kiss up and down his neck.

“What do you think about your pretty uniform, sweetie?” you whispered, “do you like it?”

“Yes, ” he whispered back.

“Repeat after me, Tomu: yes, mistress, ” you said, looking into his bright red eyes.

His pupils dilated as he finally whispered out, “yes, mistress,”

You smashed your lips onto his as he groaned. This was his fantasy. He'd lie in bed thinking about his boss’s mistress’s lips on his. Even if it wasn't sexual, he always craved your soft sweet lips. The way you were rubbing your hands up and down his thighs, pushing the hem of his dress higher and higher, made him squirm.

“Mistress, ” he moaned, “mistress please, I want you, ”

“Yeah? You want me? You want your mistress?” you cooed.

“Yes!” he cried, “yes, mistress!”

You shoved him out of your lap and bent him over the desk. You flipped up his skirt and groaned when you saw his panties. They hugged his butt so perfectly. They stopped just under his waist, and we're swallowed up by his ass like a thong.

“Fuck, ” you groaned, “remember that glass you broke, pet?”

He cringed a little at the memory but nodded, “yes, mistress, ”

“Good boy, ” you cooed, “I'm not mad at you, sweetie, no no no, but I’d still like to punish you. Although I think you'll like what I'm going to do to you, ”

“What are you going to do to me, mistress?” he said, looking back at you while bent over your desk.

It was impeccably neat, thanks to his hard work. But, unfortunately, that desk wouldn't remain clean for long.

“I'm gonna spank you, ok, sweetie?” you said, “let me know if it's too much, ”

He nodded, “ok, mistress,”

You brought your hand down, slapping his ass, watching as he gasped but bucked into your hand. Pain and pleasure couldn't be told apart when you spanked him like that. It should hurt. He should be mad, try and get away from the pain you were inflicting on him. But he loved it. He wanted your hands everywhere; it didn't matter if they were tearing him apart or providing unbelievable pleasure. He wanted you. He wanted whatever you gave him. You were perfect. You were everything, and every touch was perfect.

“Mistress, ” he moaned, “more, harder mistress, ”

You spanked him again, this one really stung, and he loved it. All he could do was moan, drool pudding on your desk. Two spanks, and he was gone, so sensitive in the most amazing ways.

“I'm gonna fuck you like an animal Tomura Shigaraki, ” you said, raking your nails down his back, “I hope you're ready, ”

He moaned, “yes, I'm ready. I'm ready, mistress. I want you to touch me. Please don't be gentle, ”

“Oh, I didn't plan on it, sweetie, ” you whispered, spanking him again.

He groaned, thrusting desperately against the air.

“Aw, is my little pet needy?” you cooed, “do you want to feel good, Tomu?”

“Yes, ” he whimpered, “yes please, mistress, ”

“Well, ” you drawled, “since you've been such a good boy for me, I don't see why not, ”

He groaned at the praise, “yes, mistress. I'm a good boy. I'll be your good boy, ”

You reached into a drawer under the desk and pulled out a bottle of lube and a dildo.

“I’ll have to get a strap for this soon and fuck you properly with it, ” you chuckled, “remind me, will you?”

His breath caught in his throat as he saw what you pulled out. Holy fuck, he wanted that inside him immediately. He watched you lather the lube onto your fingers, had you kept your nails short just for this? It wasn't like you had to use your fingers to get yourself off. You could buy as many vibrators as you wanted and get laid whenever you pleased. Had you been fantasizing about him? He was interrupted by a finger circling dangerously close to his hole.

“Fuck,” he whispered.

“We haven't even gotten started, Tomura, ” you cooed.

You pushed in slowly, letting him savor this new feeling. You got deeper end deeper, starting to thrust and curl it. It felt amazing, but this was just a warm-up. You added another finger at a sluggish pace, moving them lazily as he finally started to acclimate. Relaxing, he moaned and groaned for you, letting everything else go.

“That's my good boy, ” you muttered more to yourself than him.

He looked back at you with a beautiful expression. His eyes were half-lidded, and his mouth was hanging open as he panted like he was in heat.

“Mistress, ” he slurred, “I'm ready for more, ”

“Yeah? You ready for another finger? ” you asked.

“Want the toy, please, mistress. I'm ready, ” he moaned as you curled your fingers.

“Honey, you need to wait a while longer, okay? I don't want it to hurt, ” you soothed.

“No, I want it!” he snapped.

His eyes immediately filled with fear and yours with anger.

“What did you just say to me, ” you whispered menacingly.

“I'm sorry, ” he whimpered.

You spanked him five times in a row, hard. He cried out, tears dripping down his face. After you were done, you pulled him into your lap. He was still sniffling as you held him.

“You can't talk to me like that, Tomura, ” you said.

“I'm sorry, mistress, ” he whispered.

“It’s alright, honey, ” you said, stroking his hair, “everyone makes mistakes, ”

“You're not mad anymore, mistress?” he asked.

“I wasn't mad in the first place, Tomura. I could never get mad at you. But you can't act out like that. You need to be my good boy, remember?” you said.

“I remember, ” he nodded, “if I'm a good boy, can you still use the toy on me? Pretty please?”

“of course, why don't you clean up the desk, sweetie. You drooled all over it, Tomura, ” you said, holding back a laugh.

He blushed but got to work, and in no time, it was spotless.

“Ready to make it messy again, ” you whispered in his ear.

He kissed your neck, “yes, mistress, ”

“See, there's my good boy, ” you praised.

He hugged you, gripping your shirt in his hands. You held him tight. Even though the shirt was close to five hundred dollars, it didn't matter.

“I'm ready, ” he whispered, “for whatever you give me, ”

You let him lean over the desk again, prepping his hole with the original two fingers you had slipped in, adding a third, much to his delight.

“If you had been a good boy, I’d be fucking with my toy right now, ” you reminded him.

“I'm sorry, mistress, ” he whispered.

“It's alright, sweetie, this was a good lesson, ” you said, leaning down to kiss his neck.

He shivered; he loved how sweet your kisses were. You were such a kind mistress, and he swore to himself that he would be such a good boy for you. Only for you. You finally pulled out of him, which was a blessing and a curse. He felt so empty but knew he was bout to be filled to the brim. But to his surprise, the next thing to push into him was your tongue. You licked and sucked the sensitive area, listening to him whine and moan shamelessly.

He knew you had your office soundproofed; you had a relatively colorful vocabulary. He was panting, nails scratching down your desk. Your tongue was wet so warm, just so- oh fuck, so perfect. He loved how it felt to grind back on your face. The most powerful woman in the world was pleasuring him, loving him. What had he done to deserve something as wonderful as this? He was interrupted by a harsh slap on his ass.

“I asked you a question, Tomura. Are you ready for my toy?” you said.

“Yes, mistress, I'm ready, ” he nodded frantically.

You pumped two fingers into him a few times before making a show of lubing up the dildo. You ran your hand up and down it, squeezing and smearing the liquid around. You rubbed it up and down his asshole a couple of times before pressing gently. It slid in with ease. He was gasping, legs trembling from being stuffed full.

“Mistress, ” he gasped, “it's so good, ”

“Yeah? I'm glad, ” you laughed, “that was the goal. Would you like me to start moving it, sweetie?”

He nodded frantically, “yes, yes mistress, I want it, ”

You thrusted slowly, dragging it in and out of him. He was moaning shamelessly, wanting you to see to hear to taste to smell to touch every part of him. He trusted you with life. You sped up, and Tomura’s eyes rolled back; he bucked against your hand. He was losing it now, blabbering mindlessly about how good it felt, how pretty you are, and that he'd always be a good boy.

“You're taking it so well, sweetie, ” you praised, “cum whenever you need to. There's no rush, ”

He nodded even though he couldn't really understand what you were saying. He felt himself getting sucked deeper and deeper into a pit of absolute bliss. Then, just as he was about to slip away, the door opened.

“Miss y/n I-” your representative stuttered.

“I'm busy right now. Thank you for stopping by. I’ll notify you when I'm free, ” you smiled calmly.

Meanwhile, Tomura was the absolute opposite of calm as he fought his orgasm. He didn't want a stranger to see him cum like this! But that just served to push him deeper into his pleasure. The deeper the toy fucked him, the more he lost it until he cried out.

“Mistress! I'm c-cumming!” he moaned.

Cum shot out of his cock, splattering on the clean floor. He was panting. He had just came in front of a stranger and loved every second of it.

“Aww, look at the mess you made, honey, ” you cooed, “such a messy boy, ”

You pulled him into your lap.

“As I said, I'll contact you when I'm free, ” you said, looking at your wide-eyed representative.

He stood there in shock.

You cleared your throat, “Um, are you gonna stare or just...?”

“I'm so sorry I’ll be going sorry to interrupt, ” he stammered.

You laughed a little, looking down at Shigaraki.

“Well, someone had fun, ” you teased.

He whined in embarrassment and hid his head in your chest. You laughed again and stroked his hair. You two sat there the rest of the day, getting absolutely no work done.

#mha shiggy #shigaraki smut #shigaraki fluff #mha shigaraki #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tenko #tomura shiragaki #shigaraki tomura #tomura smut #tenko smut #tomura x reader #mha tomura #tomura imagine

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manonblaqkbeak · 3 years

Text

Lock-down Kisses

i wasnt almost gonna do day 11 but i got inspired late last night.

im also so glad that you guys liked my fic yesterday, it has been a bit of a stressful week for me so it makes me happy when you guys like my fics! it really means a lot so thank u! :)

cw: none. just some usual fluff lol

1.4k words

enjoy!

Aelin was so damned bored. She was sure she'd never been this bored in all her life.

She had to tell herself constantly that she was lucky, that she had a roof over her head, food in the fridge and pantry and that she was healthy and walking around, that she still had her job, no matter how rocky it currently was, she was still lucky.

It still didn't change the fact that being in lock-down rutting sucked.

It had been a month since the hard lock-down started and she had been stuck at home—her beautiful, sturdy home that she was damned privileged to have—somewhere in-between the mood of wanting to do something but not having the energy to actually do it.

She had already vacuumed and put the clean dishes away and the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. She had done a fresh load of laundry and put it outside to dry. With nothing left other than mopping (which she hated because no matter how hard she cleaned the tiles beforehand, there was always little pieces of debris that showed up and annoyed her to no end), she couldn't really think of any other house-chores for her to do to keep her preoccupied.

She mowed yesterday, and had racked up the leaves and grass too, plopping them in the garden bin. She watered the garden and refilled the bird-bath, as well.

There were plenty of books to read and listen to, but Aelin just wasn't in the mood for that, which surprised Rowan when she said that yesterday when she complained for the umpteenth time that she was slowly going insane—Aelin was always in the mood to read, but now...maybe it was because the people in those books were having adventures while she was stuck inside.

Right now, she was lying on the couch, staring at her plain as dust ceiling, wondering if it would break protocol if she could pay her neighbour Feyre to paint something enticing.

It probably would be, but she needed something pretty to stare at if she wasn't reading or watching television.

Again, she was grateful, because she had books to read and television to watch, but Aelin always liked to be doing something, being outside and running errands and working.

She was a teacher at Orynth dance and music studio, and due to the lock-down, she was unable to teach dance, but thankfully, she was still able to conduct piano, guitar and violin lessons over Zoom, even if it wasn't really the same and her laptops speaker made the music sound a little dingy, but she didn't have any lessons this week, but would next week, so at least she had something to look forward to.

To pass the time, she had resorted to snooping, watching people mill about in the street from the safety of her enclosed verandah and telling Rowan of the details that she observed when he had a moment of free time.

Which was practically non-existent, thanks to being a teacher and having to deal with stressed out senior students who constantly needed to be reassured that everything was going to be okay.

Not that Aelin could blame them for their stress, she felt so damned sorry for those kids, hyperventilating because they couldn't concentrate at home because they had to share the office with others and how terrified they were of flunking and just about everything else that caused them stress. But Rowan was there, reassuring them that everything would be okay and that as a team, they would tackle everything one day at a time.

Which was why when Aelin went to give Rowan a fresh cup of coffee earlier she was surprised to see that her husband was not in the study and that the room was empty. His laptop and papers were all set up for another day of virtual learning, but her husband could not be found, and she had gone throughout their entire house looking for him and did not find him. And it wasn't like he was hard to spot, he was over six feet tall, tanned and had silver rutting hair, but he was nowhere.

When she had gone back to the kitchen to add sugar and cream to his coffee that was now hers, she noticed that his joggers were gone by the front door, which made her frown because he hadn't mentioned going for a walk—not like he had to tell her everything she did, but she wouldn't have minded joining him—and came to the decision that maybe he just needed to clear his head before another stressful day was upon him.

At least it was Friday, not that that really meant anything when one was a teacher.

Aelin glanced around her living room, she had rearranged it two Saturdays ago with Rowan's help and maybe wondered if she could re-arrange it again, but decided that would just be ridiculous.

Maybe yoga would be a good idea, she didn't mind it and it at least gave her mind something else to focus about other than viruses and death and all other manners of unpleasantness.

So deciding that yoga was the best thing to prevent her from going to the roof and swapping out the tiles, Aelin got dressed, grabbed her things and went outside.

X X X X X X

Two hours later and Aelin was still outside. However, she gave up on yoga an hour ago, finding the energy to listen to a deliciously smutty audio-book. She was watching the clouds, but her mind was imaging that what was happening between the two lovers was her and Rowan (something that happened often when it came to these stories) and was about one paragraph from either shoving her hand down her pants or calling Rowan and asking him when the hell he was coming home so that they could recreate the scene when the front door opened.

Aelin jumped up and went back inside, barely remembering to turn off the audio-book and have her way with Rowan on the floor when she stopped dead at the sight of him.

Because in his hands hand was a leash, that was attached to a dog. A yellow lab, to be exact. The dog looked to be about six months old and was the cutest thing she'd ever seen.

“Rowan, why do you have a dog?”

“She's ours,” he said, like it was the most normal thing in the world. “I was supposed to pick her up from the shelter over a month ago, but she got sick, so I was told to wait until she recovered. She's okay now, perfectly healthy, so I finally got the call the other day that she was ready to be picked up. She's caught up on all the necessary vaccines, and is well trained. I was meant to be here earlier, but Fleetfoot here wanted to go swimming in a mud puddle, so I had to take her to a dog spa on the other side of town.”

Aelin nodded, her eyes still glued on the pup. Her eyes were a pretty golden-brown colour and while she was young, Aelin could tell that she was smart.

“You got us a puppy?” Aelin managed to ask.

“Yeah. I know you've been wanting one for a long time, and when I saw her pop up on my Facebook wall, I knew she was the one for us. Do you like her?” he asked and Aelin could have sworn that her burly husband sounded shy. Nervous.

“I love her,” Aelin admitted truthfully and finally went over to their dog, who immediately starting sniffing at Aelin's outstretched hand when she crouched down in front of her. And was soon being supplied with kisses, all over her hand, her face and neck. Aelin laughed and Rowan smiled, knowing that he had made the right decision.

Rowan was about to sit down himself when Aelin tugged at his hand, bringing him down on top of her and kissed him with every bit of love she felt for him.

It didn't take long for Fleetfoot to join them, licking at Rowan while she yipped for their attention. They broke apart and spent the rest of the day getting to know the new addition of their family.

Lock-down sucked, but Aelin was lucky indeed to have her husband in her life. And the pure ball of energy that was Fleetfoot.

#rowaelin #rowaelinmonth #my work

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villainousshakespeare · 3 years

Text

Bobby’s Play Date Part 1

The pandemic is keeping Tom idling in London by himself. One positive is that wearing the mask helps him avoid recognition, allowing him to wander in the park with his dog, Bobby. On one of their walks, Bobby becomes smitten with a dog named Lulu and Tom is equally enchanted by her human. Can the Hiddleston men manage to find a way to see the lovely ladies again?

Tom Hiddleston/OFC

Rated M - Pandemic, Fluff, Quarantine, Masks, Adorable Puppies, Meet Cute, Second Part May (will) Contain Smut

@yespolkadotkitty @just-the-hiddles @hopelessromanticspoonie @wine-and-whines @arch-venus25 @caffiend-queen @devilish–doll @enchantedbyhiddles @hiddlesholic @i-do-not-fangirl-i-fanwoman @kellatron55 @ladyoftheteaandblood @latent-thoughts @gorgeous1974 @maryxglz @myoxisbroken @nuggsmum @nildespirandum @pedeka @redfoxwritesstuff @sinfully-lustful-darling @vodka-and-some-sass @wrathkitty @kingtwhiddleston @wolfsmom1 @poetic-fiasco @shiningloki @dangertoozmanykids101 @bookworm-christina @thecutestlittlebunbunfairy @amwolowicz @delightfulheartdream @frostbitten-written @what-a-flammable-heart @tom-hlover @nonsensicalobsessions @myraiswack @loki-yoursaviourishere, from-hel-i-with-love, @sweetsigyn, @fictiondoesitbetter, @ms-cellanies @evieplease @viviennes-tears @turniptitaness @cynic-spirit

It was months into the pandemic that had ground the world to a halt. Tom desperately hoped things would go back to normal soon, and that a vaccine would be found to help more people from getting sick and dying. There were, of course, many changes to the world at the moment that Tom was not pleased with. Being unable to work, for instance, or travel to visit his sisters was both frustrating and depressing. One change, however, he had to admit he was not completely adverse to.

Tom loved his fans. They were usually polite, often intelligent, and had donated millions in his name to charities. He often said that he couldn’t consider himself an actor without an audience, and he meant it. It was just that there were times when he wanted to enjoy a little anonymity. Particularly when health advisories suggested a six foot distance between people, Tom was relieved to be able to slip on a plain black mask along with his baseball cap and sunglasses and blend in with the other people wandering about on errands.

He was enjoying just such a stroll now despite the warmth, grateful for the ability to hide in plain sight. Bobby frisked happily on his lead, chasing after imaginary prey as they ambled aimlessly down the winding path. It was a lovely, sunny day, but fear was keeping many people at home and they had the park largely to themselves.

When they reached a bend, Bobby began barking excitedly and pulled Tom along, his human chuckling as he was dragged by his furry companion. The reason for Bobber’s excitement soon became apparent. Sitting on a bench placed beside a scenic little river was a woman in a flowered mask, holding the lead of a small, gold and white shih tzu dog in a ridiculous pink and white checked dress.

Tom had to take a firm hold as Bobby frantically tried to go over and meet the smaller dog, who had begun barking herself as they rounded the bend. Her fluffy head, complete with bow to keep the hair from her eyes, perked up, and she began jumping up and down in a little dance. Bobby calmed down a bit as he felt Tom’s pressure on his lead, but his tongue still lolled out of his mouth in a dopey smile.

“Steady,” Tom commanded, feeling embarrassed as Bobby continued to hover as close as allowed to the silly looking strange dog. “I’m sorry, I promise he is completely friendly.”

“It’s okay, so is she,” the woman replied, smiling with her eyes even though he could not see her mouth behind her mask. “You know, she’s usually quite shy, but she seems to like him! May I pet him?”

“Please, and thanks for asking.”

Letting the lead out a bit, Tom watched as the woman reached down to give Bobby a good pet, complimenting him on being a handsome boy. Her fluff of a pup had advanced timidly, and she and Bobby commenced sniffing and circling each other with obvious enjoyment.

“Wow, I have never seen her respond like that to a strange dog!” the woman laughed.

As she spoke, Bobby rolled onto his back and waved his paws in the air with a complete lack of dignity.

“Safe to say he is rather taken as well,” Tom chuckled. “Absolutely shameless! Mind if I have a seat? It seems a shame to deprive them.”

He gestured to the bench next to hers, wanting to keep a safe distance and indicate he respected her space, and the woman nodded. She was dressed much more simply than her dog, he noticed. Black leggings and long rose colored tee shirt, a pair of keds. Apparently, she got all of her whimsy out on her pup.

“What’s his name?” she asked, watching as the dogs frolicked with each other.

“Bobby,” he supplied. “I’m Tom.”

“I’m Leia, and that ridiculous creature is Lulu.”

“Like the princess?” he couldn’t help but ask with a chuckle.

“General,” she answered without missing a beat. “It’s what happens when you are born during the release of a cultural phenomenon. Pity all of the little girls out there now being named Daenerys or Gamora.”

Tom held his breath for a moment. If she was a Marvel fan, then did he have to worry about her recognizing him? Fortunately, she seemed more interested in the game of tag their companions were playing, and he let himself relax.

“There’s a dog run about half a mile from here,” he suggested after a few minutes of companionable silence. “It’s actually where we were headed.”

“I know, but Lulu is so skittish,” Leia sighed. “She just huddles in a little ball when the bigger dogs come near her.”

“She seems fine with Bobbers.”

“I know! Your adorable boy is some sort of sorcerer! It makes me so happy to see her playing with another dog!”

“I have to ask…”

“The dress?” she guessed; voice wry.

“Yeah.”

“She’s a rescue. When I got her, she was a pathetic, bedraggled little thing that had been there for ages. It was winter, and the first times I took her out I had to put a coat on her. After that, she started equating dressing with going out, and would get so excited every time I took a coat or sweater out for her. When the weather warmed up, I realized that I missed the way she would jump up and literally throw herself into whatever I had picked out for her to wear. It’s completely silly, I know, but it makes her happy, and she just looks so cute!”

Tom’s heart melted a little as he listened to her explain. Yes, the dog looked silly, but it was such a sweet reason that suddenly the little dress transformed into a symbol of kindness rather than an eccentricity.

“She does look adorable,” he said.

A beeping noise had him drawing his phone from his pocked, and he was surprised at the time. He had to get back home soon for a virtual session with his trainer. Oddly, he found himself reluctant to go. It had been so long since he had just spent time with another person, it had felt good just to sit in her presence and relax.

“I’m afraid I have to get going. But Bobby and I usually walk this way around lunch time,” he blurted out, lying through his teeth. “Hopefully we will run into you lovely ladies again. So that the dogs can play.”

He was more grateful for the mask than ever, as it hopefully hid the blush he could feel coloring his face. Once more her vivid eyes sparkled and she stood up too, twisting around with him as they attempted to untangle the leashes.

“I’m sure Lulu would love that!” she told him, picking up the golden dog as she whined and tried to follow after her new friend. “We’ll see you around, Tom. Bobby.”

With a jaunty step he let his long legs take him away, looking forward to tomorrow already.

It rained the next two days. Not just a soft drizzle but am early summer storm that made the idea of a pleasant walk a fantasy. Tom and Bobby both resented the weather, and it was a toss up which of them was more disagreeable as they were forced to stay indoors.

When the sun shone on the third day, Tom immediately cancelled all of his afternoon plans. He had waited patiently, he told himself, he was not going to let this day go to waste. It was for Bobby’s sake, after all. The pup deserved a nice day out after being shut up inside.

They left home mid-morning, Tom unable to sit still any longer. He couldn’t say why exactly he was so keen on meeting Leia and her silly dog again, but he had been able to think of nothing else during his enforced isolation. Perhaps it was simply the novelty of meeting someone new who didn’t instantly faun over him or act nervous and shy. She treated him as though he were just an ordinary guy walking his dog in the park; which of course was what he was!

He arrived at the benches where they had met earlier that week, but they were empty. It was still early, so they made a circuit of the nearby trails. His eyes always alert for their new friends. They passed a few other people walking their pets, but both Tom and Bobby were uninterested beyond a nod hello and brief sniff. The Hiddleston men were both to focused on finding particular companions.

It was, as it had been before, Bobby who first discovered their presence. As they were walking through a more secluded, twisting section of the park, the dog’s ears pricked up and he began barking in excitement. Tail wagging frantically, Bobby yanked on the lead and pulled Tom along behind him as he took off around a curve. A high pitched yip sounded from the direction he headed.

“Well hello there!” Leia greeted him, leaning down to scratch Bobby’s head as he and Lulu danced around each other. “We were hoping to run into you boys again!”

“Eh heh heh,” Tom laughed, dancing around to keep his leash from entangling too badly with hers. “Obviously Bobby here was looking forward to that as well! As was I.”

“Well then, I am so happy you found us.”

He felt absurdly pleased as they fell into step beside each other. The two dogs were happy to walk along, darting back and forth in play as they went.

“Were you going anywhere in particular?” Leia asked casually.

“Oh, just wandering about,” Tom answered, not wanting to admit that they had been on a mission to hunt down the ladies.

“Well then, we can wander together.”

As the dogs played, Tom and Leia chatted happily. He learned that she was an aspiring writer working on edits to her first novel, and a tour guide, specializing in guiding small groups around literary sights in London as a way to earn money.

“Of course, it’s hard to be a tour guide with no tourists,” she sighed. “You would think it would give me more time to write, but its hard to focus. Anyway, I talk too much. What about you?”

“Oh, I’m on furlough,” he shrugged, staying vague. “Just loafing about the house, annoying Bobby. So what is your novel about?”

He managed to direct the conversation back to her, even though she avoided the subject of her book. Instead, she brought up some of the more interesting places she had brought tourists. Tom, a proud Londoner, had been to many of them, and they happily discussed the more interesting locations. She seemed impressed that he had read books by most of the authors they discussed and was quite ready with a line or two from memory. In turn, Tom loved how expressive she became when describing the joy people experienced finding themselves walking in the footsteps of their favorite fictional characters.

By the time Leia announced that she and Lulu needed to head home, (Tom thought he detected regret in her voice) he was surprised to realize that they had been talking for almost two hours. It was the most pleasant afternoon he had passed in some time.

After that, Tom and Bobby spent every afternoon in the park. At first, they managed to “stumble” upon their companions most days. The days they did not were frustrating for both of them and usually ended with them barking at each other. After a few run-ins with Leia and Lulu however, Tom took the plunge and asked if they would like to make their daily meetups official. Leia seemed pleased, but with the caveat that some days she did need to stay home and write when she was struck by the rare inspiration. Tom deflated momentarily, thinking she was looking for an out, until she offered to text him an let him know if they would be absent. He happily gave her his cell phone number and took hers in return, letting her know that she should feel free to text anytime and then feeling like an idiot the minute the words left his mouth.

Over the next two weeks they met all but three days – two because of her writing and one when the skies once more conspired to thwart him. Their conversations ranged from literature to films to favorite places to travel. Leia sometimes teased him about his obvious upper class life style, jetting about to Viet Nam, Hawaii, Australia… but that was the closest his celebrity status ever came to being brought up. He would occasionally feel a stab of guilt over keeping that part of himself from her, it felt dishonest to lie by omission, but he was enjoying being just Tom, and didn’t want to spoil it.

Tom started taking more care in his appearance as the days went on. Gone were the torn running shorts and frayed t-shirts, and in their place were his slim fitting dark jeans and more presentable tops. If those tops also stretched a bit tight across his chest to better show off his muscles, well, he had worked hard enough to achieve them! He made some attempt to style his untamable locks as well, experimenting with different products until he found something that made the curls less crunchy. If he was remembering Leia’s off hand comment about how she liked his natural curls no one else needed to know that.

On the one month anniversary of meeting them in the park, Tom paced nervously back and forth near their favorite bench as he waited for them to arrive. He had a proposition for Leia and hoped desperately that she would say yes. When Bobby started frisking about he knew that he would see her walking Lulu, and spun around to see her come towards them.

“Sorry I’m late!” she smiled with her eyes. “This one managed to hide my house keys, and it took half an hour to track them down to her stash under the sofa.”

Lulu looked unrepentant as she pranced around Bobby, and Tom chuckled good naturedly. He gestured to the bench and sat after Leia, leaning back and stretching out his legs.

“No worries, honestly,” he assured her. “I am just delighted you are here now.”

“You are the perfect gentleman.”

“All lies, I assure you,” he waited for a moment, wanting to sound casual, and then launched into it unable to delay any longer. “I was wondering… The park is lovely, of course, but I thought it might be nice – for Lulu and Bobby – if they had a bit more freedom to run about. Lulu being afraid of the dog run, she has no opportunity to be off leash, and that can’t be too fun for our furry companions.”

“They seem to be having a good time to me,” Leia laughed, looking at where the dogs were investigating a small pile of leaves by the side of the trail. “But what did you have in mind?”

“Well, you see, our house has an enclosed back yard. Not huge, mind you, but large enough they would be able to chase to their hearts content without fearing larger beasts. I thought that perhaps you and Lulu might want to come over this Friday evening for dinner. There’s a testing sight not far from here. We could each get swabbed to make sure we are uncontagious. My bubble is only my Mum and Bobbers, and from what you’ve told me yours isn’t much bigger. It should be reasonably safe for you to come. I could make us dinner, and we could eat outside. If you would be comfortable with it, that is.”

He tried to look calm, but inside Tom was a riot of nerves as he waited for her answer. Leia’s brow crinkled in thought, and she glanced again to where the dogs were once more hopping back and forth across the path.

“I can’t do Friday,” she told him, and his heart fell.

“Oh, alright then. It was just an idea.”

“Friday is my virtual book club,” she went on, talking over him. “Would Saturday work?”

“Saturday would be perfect!” he beamed.

“Great! I’ll go to the clinic for a test tomorrow then. Would you like me to bring anything?”

“Just Lulu and a healthy appetite.”

“Excellent! Now what do you say we walk over to the little waterfall?”

Tom practically floated through the rest of their walk. He had enjoyed getting to know her so much, but he wanted to spend more than an hour or two at a time with her. Dinner would give them a chance to really relax. Plus, he was dying to see her mouth. After a month of imagining her smile he wanted to know if what he had in his mind was anywhere close to reality. She would see his full face too, but if she hadn’t recognized him by now it was doubtful she would from the lower half of his face.

His confidence dipped a bit when they returned home. Looking around, Tom began to panic. Between photos of him in his full Loki regalia to a group picture with the cast of Skull island, there were far too many give aways of his fame. She might not recognize him, but you would have to like on another planet not to know who Sam Jackson was!

Tom spent the next few days rearranging his home. His awards, normally discreetly placed in a cabinet in his living room on the insistence of his mother, were moved to a back shelf in his office closet. The set photos from a decade plus of filming were shoved under his bed and various pieces of memorabilia were secreted away in the spare bedroom. By the time he was done his guilt had increased but he was fairly confident that all trace of his career had been tucked away safely.

“Well, Bobbers, let’s hope we don’t blow this,” he sighed, adjusting the bandana he had bought to go around the dog’s neck. Bobby whined slightly and Tom grinned. “None of that, you want to look good for your date. She has a fondness for clothing, after all.”

Bobby gave him a look that said he clearly knew Lulu was not the one Tom was trying to impress with his new fashion statement, but Tom cheerfully ignored it. Tonight was going to be a wonderful night.

#Tom Hiddleston #Fan Fiction #Fic #Tom Hiddleston Fic #Tom Hiddleston/OFC #Bobby Hiddleston #Fluff #Flirting #quarantine #pandemic #puppy love #cuteness overload #smut in second part #meet cute

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keltonwrites · 3 years

Text

Where no one knows your name

How many times is a person meant to make new friends? When I moved into an apartment in DC with an absolutely iconic girl from Craigslist, I wrote in my journal, “you never know when you’ll meet your next bridesmaid.” Charmingly juvenile, as I was 24 years old. Ironic, as I never had any bridesmaids. And embarrassing, knowing I wrote something that’s surely been embroidered on a bachelorette party t-shirt by now. My point was: you can meet people you fall in love with anywhere, anytime, assuming your heart (and calendar) are open. Now my heart and calendar are open and I am one of Elizabeth Bennet’s sad sisters, cloying and desperate for attention while everyone at the ball ignores me. Meeting people here is unnerving and hapless and eye-clawingly vulnerable. My first new friend told me she was moving away in a few months. Do you invest deeply in hopes of another faraway friendship? Do you just go back to waving as you pass on the street? I like this girl! What an embarrassing thing to have to say to someone! Do you just invite people to every and anything like a lunatic? I can’t even remember to call the people I am forever-and-ever in cahoots with. I’m also deeply bound by what I’ll call the Movie Trap: say it’s 3pm during not-a-pandemic, and you get the urge to see a movie. You look at the showings, and there’s one you really want to see at 7:15. You think to yourself, “I should make an effort,” and you text a friend. “Hey, you wanna go see This Cool Movie at 7:15 tonight?” No one ever says yes. Don’t give me an example of when someone has, because it’s always one of these answers:

“Oooh, I’m actually seeing it with Kate tomorrow - wanna come?”

“Can we go to the 9pm showing? Stuck at work.”

“Yeah but let’s see Movie You’ll Fucking Hate instead.”

Now maybe I’m just lighting flares guiding you to the worst parts of my personality, but this drives me nuts. No, Liz, I don’t want to go tomorrow. I want to go tonight. At 7:15. So I can be in bed by 10. And you’d have to drag my dead body and prop open my eyes to get me to see something like Marriage Story in theaters. The Movie Trap is a big reason I usually hang out by myself, or I make plans weeks in advance. (Don't I sound like a blast.) Just the idea of being like, “I like you! Wanna hang out in October?” makes me want to collapse into a puddle of sad adulthood. Which is why on Friday at 4:30pm, when a girl I’d met a week prior asked if I wanted to grab a drink, I just said yes. I put on a pretty dress, did my makeup, put stuff in a purse, and drove the 25 minutes to town. It was really fun! And how novel to have new contacts in my phone like “Maggie blue house” and “Jess concert friend” — a throwback to the days of “Greg guy on L train” and “Devon ad party.” The very concept of not knowing someone’s last name or even needing it, and a year from now updating their contact info and smiling at your origin story. But for the most part, no one is in our phones. In terms of phone numbers collected, here is the list:

Two friends we knew prior who thank god you guys exist.

New friend who is moving away.

New friend who is game to drink tequila and ride mountain bikes.

Neighbor-not-yet-friend who I really fucking like and am not sure how to cross hang-out threshold with.

Not to say there aren’t any other prospects or people I’m platonically gaga over, but I don’t have their phone numbers. There are honestly a lot of people like this because when you live in a small town (and you’re from the Midwest) you say “oop, sorry” to every person/object you bump into, and you say “hi :)” to every person you see. These are the rules. If I drive by you and don’t wave, it’s because I was so deep in a daydream I probably shouldn’t have been driving in the first place. This isn’t acceptable, because in our urgency to tattoo our vaccination status on our foreheads so we can make friends, it turns out just driving by someone can be a viable strategy. A few days ago, a man was driving by our kitchen window and then our driveway, and then he reversed back up to the kitchen window and started waving. Ben went outside — it was that kind of wave. The man had seen from his car a smokejumper emblem on the back of a truck in our driveway. “Hey, are you a smokejumper?” We aren’t. But my dad was, and he was in town visiting, accompanied by the emblem on the back of his truck. The guy said we should drink sometime. Numbers were not exchanged. We’ll call that a node, because it’s not quite a connection. And it’s mainly nodes, waiting to be connected, to have relevance. But first, no matter who you’re trying to befriend, you have to answer everyone else’s Do I Care Quiz. The quiz is employed by 93% of locals to determine how they feel about you existing within their personal 50-mile radius. The first question is non negotiable:

1) Are you visiting?

Variations on this question include “how long are you in town?” or “what brings y’all to town?” or my least favorite and most insulting, “did you just finish Jeeping?” I know I have blonde hair and say y’all, but how dare you. (Also, to be clear, you can own a Jeep, customize your Jeep, mod out your Jeep, and love your Jeep, but you’re not Jeeping until you drive too fast through a tiny town so you can hurl your Jeep over a mountain pass without ever getting out of it.) So the answer to “are you visiting” is “no, I live here.” Which brings us to the next question, my favorite for how loaded the gun, kneeling in the grass, scope on, target locked it is.

2) Are you part-time or full-time?

The first time I answered this question, I didn’t realize it was essentially like asking how someone voted in the 2020 election. The judgment was cocked and ready and the palpable relief/joy/or at the very least, tolerance, exuded by answering “full-time” was like when the sun comes out from behind the clouds on a 40 degree day. I was fine, but wow that does feel better. The third question though does not have a standard hoped-for answer. This is where nodes turn to connections turn to phone numbers.

3) What brings you here?

It seems like the best possible answer would be saying you work in town, and you’re going to begin construction on displaced-worker housing to ensure the people who run this town can actually live in it. We’d have everyone’s phone number. Saying you’re a writer who works remotely and bought a house from a legendary and beloved local who could no longer afford it is really something you keep to yourself. But in the interest of making friends, I just word vomit my entire history. We might as well find out at the onset if I make your eyes roll back into your skull. Not at all threatening that all it takes is a single social signal misinterpreted to be the absolute death knell of my ability to make friends in a town of some 1400 adults. In fact, I’ll share one such interaction. I was hiking with Cooper, about 5 miles by foot away from my house. I was on a trail, crossing a sloped meadow, and a group was traversing up the hillside to the trail. I said hi, where y’all coming from. One girl answered and we talked about the trail. She eyed me up and down. “Did you just move here?” “I did!” “I served your family last week,” she said. “Oh,” that phrasing. “Must have been my in-laws.” “Heard you bought Jack’s house. Such a bummer when locals like that are forced out.” “We didn’t even know about his house,” I said. “We were looking at another house and he asked his realtor if he could get us to come see his house. We just loved it, and him!” She had no emotional reaction to this. “You moved from California?” she asked. (Dangerous question.) “Yeah, got these sea level lungs, haha,” attempting to disarm with humor was a failure, “but couldn’t be happier to be out of California.” “It’s not like this all year. Winter’s really hard here, you’re in for a rude awakening.” “Well California’s the last place I lived, but I’m not from there. I’ve lived in brutal winters. At least Colorado gets sun!” I laugh with cloaked loathing. “It’s different when you live at altitude,” she said, like no human aside from her had ever been literally anywhere. “Are you trying to go around?” She indicated the path behind her. “No, y’all go ahead, just gonna wait to give you your space. I’m sure you’re faster than me.” “K, good luck making it to the lake." Maybe she was thirsty. Maybe she was hungover. Maybe she just has vicious delivery, but it felt like every blade of grass was leaning against the wind to listen. She was with four other people and not one of them said a word. I left that interaction not wanting to see another human ever again. But that interaction, and her intimate knowledge of exactly which house I lived in, made me want to decorate like we lived in a gingerbread house, all candy canes and plum drops, screaming to any passerby that we’re friendly. One of the mayor’s first questions to me was “what are you going to do to the house?” There are rules here about what your house can look like, and I kept emphasizing we bought the house because we loved it, not because we wanted to change everything about it. And now, instead of wanting to decorate the interior, I want to put up shades so we don’t contribute to light pollution, I want to hang a sign by the water spigot saying “grab some if you need” for hikers and mountain bikers, I want to paint a sign for the wild mint by our door that says, “I mint to tell you to take some,” because our neighbors were openly panicked they wouldn’t be able to just grab mint from the cabin’s garden anymore. Without question, COVID makes things harder. Dinner parties feel like dares. Dropping cookies off at someone’s house feels invasive. Grabbing a drink feels like the ultimate sign of trust. But at least we have nodes who can connect who can think to invite us and who can see that despite having lived in California, we’re not all that bad. In the meantime, I’ll be painting signs about water and mint, hoping to garner the benefit of the doubt from the so beautifully, earnestly, and waiting-to-see-if-you’re-worth-it doubtful.

Subscribe to the newsletter at tinyletter.com/keltonwrites — high altitude relocation and renovation in a tiny mountain town.

#amwriting #newsletter #making friends #how to make new friends #adulthood #small town life

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thewritingstar · 3 years

Text

Ignite

SoMa Week 2021 Day One: Burn

Pairing: SoMa (Soul x Maka)

Fandom: Soul Eater

Note: This is my first time participating in SoXa week! Also its my finals week so im stressed about tests and my second vaccine dose is kicking my butt but I thought instead of studying, lets write a fic. I’ve been really into soul eater recently and started the manga, so you’ll see some new fics for it here and there. Anyways, enjoy!

@soulxmakaweek

---

Her view of love had burnt out a long time ago. She was hopeful at times to think someone could be loyal and love her for eternity but that fear of being left behind and abandoned again would destroy any hope of that.

She had thought it was written in stone. From a young age she didn’t think about marriage, didn’t care about relationships because she wasn’t willing to risk the burn marks on her heart for just a sliver of satisfaction. There was nothing anyone could say to her to change her mind, she knew that, more importantly, he knew that.

But slowly that mindset started to challenge her heart. The moment she asked Soul to be her partner when they were teenagers, she felt a spark. It was small and only lasted a fraction of a second when he said yes and gave her a smirk she dared not say she liked. For a moment she had forgotten about her pact, never fall in love, but it came back quickly as it left.

She repeated those words more frequently than not. The mirror had begun to memorize the movement of her lips as she looked at herself and scolded anything that remotely resembled a romantic interest.

Every so often a brave boy would come up to her with a card and some flowers and try his hand at Maka’s heart. She would be as kind as possible to turn them down but she never missed the way Soul’s lips turned up into a smirk. Soon she was seen as untouchable, no one could woo her or they would be too threatened by Soul to even try.

It was a relief to Soul to see boys not trying to win over Maka but a part of him wondered if she would ever let herself fall for anyone.

“Do we really have to go to this dance?” Soul grumbled as he fixed his tie for the tenth time.

Maka sighed from the bathroom. “Yes Soul. Its our duty as successful students to make an appearance. Plus I heard that there is going to be good food.”

Soul rolled his eyes as he plopped onto the couch. “Its been five years since we graduated, do people even care about us?” He smirked as he heard her scoff from the hallway.

“No, Im sure no one cares about the current death weapon or the amazing person who not only made said weapon but is also one of the best teachers at the academy.”

“Relax Maka, I’m just teasing. Now hurry up or we are gonna be late and I am not about to be scolded by Kid for that.”

“Alright.” She huffed and finished her makeup with a swipe of lip gloss. “I’m coming. How do I look?” She asked.

It was a simple question, one he was used to answering often with a “fine. good. who cares, lets go.” But lately he's been trying to hold in his actual thoughts.

Maka stared at him, those olive green eyes that he became more attracted to lately. There was an untacked about chemistry that had been hovering around them for the past few years and slowly, he was loosing the battle on keeping it in place.

Her dress was black with off the shoulder sleeves and cut off mid-thigh. Something classy and elegant but still fun to twirl in. Her heels boosted her to his eye level and her hair was up in an updo with some blonde framing her face.

“Soul?” She asked him and he cleared his throat before grabbing his keys.

“Uh, you look perfect. We should really be going.” Way to be cool about it, he scolded himself.

Maka grabbed her purse and followed him out the door. Deep down she could feel a small spark of desire flare but quickly, she pushed it down and got into the car.

The dance was nothing less than perfection. Every dish, napkin, balloon and streamer was in a proper place with symmetry as its main function. Kid apparently had spent a week decorating the place himself just to insure that it was nothing less than his standards.

“He really out did himself, huh?” Soul commented as he looked around the room.

“He sure did.” Maka said.

There were a mix of students and faculty on the dance floor already. Kid was standing towards the back with Black Star while Tsubaki, Patty and Liz were chatting near them.

“It brings me back to when you forced me to these thing when we were kids.” Soul said as they made their way across the room.

Maka laughed. “Guess things haven’t changed much.”

They parted ways, Soul going towards the guys and Maka joining the girls.

“Oh Maka you look so cute!” Patty complimented her.

Maka smiled. “You all look so good too.”

Liz finished her drink before looking towards the boys. “I bet Soul likes this number on you.” She winked and Maka took a glass on a near by tray and gulped it down.

“Aww don’t tease the clueless love birds.” Tsubaki giggled.

“There nothing to tell.” Maka tried to reason but none of the girls believed her for a moment. “I’m not even his type.” She rushed out and Liz almost started to choke on her drink.

“Are you kidding? The smartest girl in the school, no the city and she's dumb as a rock when it comes to the love sick scythe.”

Maka swatted Liz’s arm and rolled her eyes. Behind her she heard someone clear their throat.

“Maka?”

She turned to see Peter, a fellow teacher who specialized in weapon training of the lower grade levels.

“Oh hi Peter, how are you?” Maka greeted and the rest of the girls waved politely.

“Good. I was wondering if you wanted to dance maybe?” He asked.

She expected to hear the girls snickering and giggling but instead she was met with silence and a smug cough from Liz.

“Oh, uh.” She started.

“Come on, it will be fun.” He said and took her hand, pulling her to the dance floor without giving her a chance.

A small squeak escaped her lips as she almost crashed into his chest. His hands found their way to her hips as he swayed to the music. Although she had always found their conversations nice and refreshing, he wasn’t the type of man that was, well, her type.

“You know Maka, I’ve always admired you.” He said.

She looked up at him and offered a polite smile. “Oh really?”

“So brave and smart, makes sense that the top teacher was also the top student.”

She laughed slightly. “Well I couldn’t have done it without my partner.”

Peter quickly caught his frown. “Yeah, Soul. Nice dude.”

“He likes to consider himself a ride or die.” She smiled to herself.

Peter grunted something she couldn’t make out and spun her around. She saw Soul walking towards the balcony doors just as she came back to Peter’s front.

“Anyways, I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner with me, you know, like a date?”

Maka stopped in her tracks. Date. No. She didn’t want that. She gave up on that a long time ago.

“Look Peter, you’re a nice guy and I have a great time working with you, but I’m just not looking for anything.”

“Oh. I just thought you and I we're getting to be good friends.”

“Well I like chatting with you and grading stuff but I really am not into dating right now. Sorry.”

“I get it, Soul would be jealous.” He scoffed and stepped back. “ I should have listened.”

“Listened to what?” She demanded.

He had the audacity to smile at her. “Oh please. Ever since school, everyone knew that it was you and Soul. I just thought that since nothing has happened yet, you would be on the market.”

That rubbed her the wrong way and her face turned sour.

“Well sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not some slab of meat. See you on Monday.” She scoffed and walked away from him. Instead of going back to her friends, she stormed towards the balcony and greeted the cool air to help calm her down.

“That was quick.” Soul teased and he held out his hand to help her up, making sure her dress didn’t get caught.

“Quick enough for a dance just to ask me out and get mad when I said no.”

Soul turned towards her. “Oh? Another ego bruised?”

“He said he had been waiting for me to be on the market.” She spat. “Disgusting behavior.”

Soul let out a laugh and threw his arm over her shoulder. “Men are stupid, you’re smart to not go near them.”

“You’re not stupid, most of the time.” She mumbled.

“The difference between me and those guys is I’ve had my ass handed to me by you. I know not to mess with the bull. Plus, I actually have respect for you and women, like a cool person should.”

“Yeah. He then said that you would be jealous.”

They watched the sun begin to set slowly. Sometimes Maka wondered what it would feel like to be the sun. Eternal warmth. Being a constant in peoples lives. She looked to Soul who seemed a little lost in thought. That spark coming to the surface and she wondered why she didn’t allow herself to what she wanted.

For years she had made sure that their partnership never faltered from that. She couldn’t risk anything happening to them because she wasn’t sure if she would be able to trust another weapon the way she did with him. She also didn’t want to partner with anyone else.

She enjoyed his company. Enjoyed the way that he could make her smile and feel comfortable. Most importantly, he stuck to his word. She never once felt like he would leave and when he said he was going to be there, she believed him.

Sometimes she wished she could just scream at him and tell him that she had been in love with him for years. That her talks about marriage and love never once applied to him and if he asked, she would be his forever.

“I think he's right.” Soul started. “Its always been you and me. I probably wouldn’t like the attention taken. Stupid, I know.”

“Its not, because I think I know why no one else sparks my interest.” She took a breath and stared at him. Those crimson eyes that held a sense of comfort and form of love that was now crystal clear. “I don’t think anyone else comes close to how I see you. The stolen glances and walking on the eggshells of feelings I pushed down long ago. I get it now Soul. You never asked because you waited for me.”

He let out a laugh from his chest and jumped down before offering his hand. “The moment I met you Maka? I knew we were end game, I was just hoping you saw it too.”

When she looked at Soul, she could sense the last little flames igniting. She could have crushed them, put them out with the bottom of her shoe and never let them rise again. She could of finally removed all the pain her parents marriage caused her and not let anything happen to her heart.

And when she thought that her idea of love was burnt to a crisp, she didn’t realize that those tiny embers had slowly grown into a burning fire. Only one person fanned the flames of her heart and she wonders why she couldn’t see it all those years ago.

But instead she looked into his eyes and saw nothing but trust. His smile was genuine and there was a faint blush on his cheeks as he waited for her answer. Deep down the embers sparked as she took his hand and she felt the fire take over.

She took his hand and he gently pulled her close until their noses touch and he placed a kiss on her knuckles. She could barely hear the music playing inside but it felt like a symphony was surrounding them. He began to hum a tune and stepped to lead her in their dance.

She giggled as he twirled her. It felt freeing, it felt right, it was perfect. He brought her back to his chest and with a big smile, he looked down at her.

“Maka?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.”

He pulled her close, taking her lips and kissing her just like he wanted to for as long as he could remember. Her lips were soft and he could feel the curl of her lips as she smiled against him.

The fire within her erupted brighter than before. The sense of longing for another began to be fulfilled and any doubts she had began to shrink. Any doubts she had with Soul had been long gone. He was her constant, the person who was always there no matter what. She never had to ask or even say a word for him to be by her side.

Her idea of love had been crushed when she had been a girl. She had thought that no one could change that. Perhaps she would spend her life not knowing what life could have been with a full heart.

But as she held Soul close to her, it became clear that he was the one to hold the match to those embers. He was a reminder that love could exist and be devoted to another.

He was the fire that burned in her heart and she gladly excepted the warmth.

“Hey Soul?” She whispered against his lips.

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

She didn’t think his smile could get any bigger as he told her the same and kissed her again.

----

I hope you enjoyed :)

#SoMaWeek2021 #SoulxMakaWeek #soulxmaka #soma #soma fic #thewritingstar #souleater #soul eater #Soul eater fanfiction #Soul x Maka

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lizamango · 3 years

Text

Finding You (Bucky Barnes x Reader) 2/?

A/N: Hi everyone! I’ve decided to call this fic Finding You, just to inform you for future chapters! Getting my second vaccine tomorrow!! 😁🤩

Summary: You’ve been one of SHIELD’s top spies for years but what happens when the organisation you’ve put your trust in crumbles and Captain America gives you a mission to help him find his best friend? The last thing you expected to happen was to fall in love with your assignment and become best friends with a witch.

Taglist ~ just comment if you wanna be added

@buckylokisimp, @white-wolf-buckaroo, @austynparksandpizza, @markandlexies

Word Count: 2345 (this is so fucking satisfying omg)

Masterlist

Chapter 1

Warnings: Just curse words, rewrites are hard but it’s kinda like shifting but through fanfiction??

Chapter Summary: Steve Rogers doesn’t trust you very much

Chapter 2: BUT YOU KNOW BETTER

On our way back, the STRIKE team is on celebration mode while Rogers is quiet. It won’t be a surprise if he goes to see Fury about the side mission I was assigned without his knowing. As we land on the Triskelion landing pad I watch as Captain Rogers leaves without a goodbye and heads to, undoubtedly, Fury’s office.

I tune into Fury’s communicator.

“Heads up, Fury. Angry Cap on your way. He found out about my mission.”

“Batroc?” he asks.

“He got away,” I answer regrettably.

“I’ll have international agents on high alert. You’ve done your part. Just leave the drive with me after Rogers.”

“Yes sir.”

I put all the weapons into the cache and go to clean up, changing out of my stealth suit and into a SHIELD hoodie and sweats that I keep in the locker for after missions. I wait by Fury’s office doors and he finally emerges from the elevator without an angry Cap.

“Gave him a little tour of Project Insight,” he says as he unlocks his office.

I walk in behind him. “That’s brave of you.”

“He didn’t like it.” He takes a seat and so did I.

“I’m sure he didn’t.” I fish out the hard drive and put it on the table. “One super secret hard drive for Nicholas J Fury,” I announce like a waitress.

“Good job.”

“He didn’t think so.”

“I want you to keep an eye on him. Just make sure he doesn’t do anything, alright?”

“What could he possibly do?” I raise my brows.

“He isn’t on board. I need you to get him there.”

“Don’t you already have an agent assigned to him?”

“Agent 13 is for when he’s off duty. You will be there for when he’s on.”

I scoff. “Have you met the guy? That’s all the time.”

“That’s an order, Agent.”

I nod. “Fine. Have you heard anything else on HYDRA?”

“The last reliable intel we have is three years old now, Y/N. It’s hard to track them down.”

“I don’t understand why you had to take me out. I was getting close to something. Someone. I don’t know.”

“Finding the world’s greatest soldier just took precedent. You weren’t getting anywhere for a whole year. Whatever it was, they packed it up tight.”

“Because it was something big,” I defend. “I still think you made the wrong choice. Captain America doesn’t need two babysitters.”

“Well, you try being asleep and waking up 70 years after to a whole new world and see how you feel. You’re dismissed. Get some rest. Make nice with the old man.”

I get up and leave his office. Make nice…. How do I do that when he doesn’t trust me anymore?

I get a ride home from Fitz who congratulated me on completing the mission.

“So what was he like?”

“He doesn’t like me very much,” I chuckle.

“Why not? What did you do?” he asks in an accusing tone.

“Me?!”

“He’s the perfect man, what could he have done?”

I roll my eyes but don’t answer. We arrive at my apartment and I thank Fitz for the ride back.

Unlocking my door I go straight to the bathroom for a bath. I run the water to the perfect temperature and add a bath bomb that turns the water a glittery lilac scented with lavender. I also light a candle that crackles like a fireplace that emits a subtle smokey French vanilla. A girl’s gotta treat herself. After a good long soak I get out and decide to rest up not wanting to do anything for the rest of the day.

I wake from my nap to the ringing of my phone. Reaching over to my bedside table I read the screen which has nothing but the number 1212. Well, that can’t be good.

“This is L/N,” I say.

“I need you to find the star. Keep your guard up.”

Shit, I think as I jump out of bed and get dressed in something inconspicuous. Black trousers, leather combat boots, a Kevlar vest under a back hoodie, two pistols on my belt and a knife tucked in each boot. I pick up a grey Von Dutch trucker hat on my way out.

Walking is the safest option so I navigate toward Steve Rogers’ DC apartment that he was relocated to after the New York Invasion as he decided to become a full time SHIELD agent.

I arrive outside his apartment and see Sharon on her way out.

“What are you doing here?” she asks.

“Mission. Waiting for the Captain,” I say. I look at her scrubs. “How you liking the infectious disease ward?” I ask.

She rolls her eyes and laughs. “Well it’s just a uniform. I guess it’s better than people shooting armour piercing bullets at me.”

“I’ll see you ‘round, Kate,” I wave, using her alias.

I track Steve’s whereabouts on my phone and see that he’s at a counselling centre for veterans. Fair enough, it’s good to admit you need help.

What do you want me to do here, Fury? I wonder to myself. I decide to do a perimeter check for any bugs, wire taps or double agents.

I reach an alleyway and after peering into it I hear the scraping of a manhole against the ground. I reach for my gun and keep it to the side as I slowly approach it.

I hear a grunt and raise the gun.

“Agent,” I immediately recognize the voice as Fury’s. “Stand down.”

“Shit, Fury.” I holster the gun and help him out of the manhole. “What happened, who did this?”

“Not safe,” he says in pain.

“W-where do we go? Rogers isn’t inside.” I inspect his wounds. “Looks like you have multiple fractures on your left arm and abdominal bruising-“

“Car ambush,” he utters as he approaches the fire escape. “Stay out here, keep a look out.” He pushes a phone into my hand, I don’t recognize it as his day to day. “Anything happens, secure line 0405. I have to… get to Rogers. Do not engage unless enemies fire first.”

“Fury-“

“That’s an order.”

I put the phone into my back pocket and stay behind as he climbs up and through the Captain’s Window.

The sky is starting to darken so I make my way through the perimeter again. Sharon returns and shortly after that, Rogers arrives, weary but alert. Just as a soldier would.

I hear some 40s music coming from the walls of the Captain’s apartment. I suppose he heard it too and got suspicious because he exits his apartment building to climb up the very same fire escape that Fury did.

My eyes follow him up and survey the roof of the building for any suspicious activity.

Suddenly three shots are fired right into one of the apartment building’s walls.

“Fuck!” I whisper, looking for the source.

“Foxtrot is down, he’s unresponsive. I need EMTs,” I hear one of my comms come through. It’s Sharon’s voice.

“Do we have a 20 on the shooter?” a dispatcher responds.

Before I know it, Captain Rogers is jumping out of his window and into the building the shots came from.

“Captain Rogers is in pursuit,” Agent Carter says.

I follow the Captain as he runs through a building following the shooter while he runs on the roof. They don’t fight but Rogers manages to throw the shield at him and does what some would say impossible as he catches it and throws it back just as hard. I stop where I am and just observe which is what Fury wanted me here for. The shooter jumps from the building and it looks like he catches himself using his… metal… arm. I look up and see Rogers standing at the edge of the rooftop, looking back down the shooter is out of sight.

“Transporting Foxtrot to BridgePoint Hospital Capitol Hill,” the dispatcher says from my comms. After sweeping the place one more time for any sign of the shooter and coming up empty I decide to take a cab to the hospital.

I put out an arm but it’s not a cab that stops in front of me.

“Get in, L/N.”

“Hill?” I get into the passenger’s seat and she starts to drive. “You’re supposed to be –“

“Fury called.”

“He was shot.”

“I know. Ballistics will tell us more at the hospital.”

“He’s gonna be okay,” I say but it’s more for my comfort than hers.

We arrive at the hospital and Maria takes a phone call while I find his room number, viewing the operation through the glass. Rogers is already there.

“Is he gonna make it?” I ask the Captain.

“I don’t know.”

“Tell me about the shooter.”

“He’s fast. Strong. Had a metal arm.”

“Ballistics?” I ask, knowing he can hear Hill’s conversation outside.

“Three slugs, no rifling. Completely untraceable,” he answers and looks at me.

Hill enters.

“Soviet-made,” I add as I put the picture together in my head.

“How did you know?”

I don’t get to answer her as the surgeons and nurses say that Fury’s in V-tach and rush to solve the problem.

“Fuck’s sake, Fury,” I whisper. “Don’t do this.” My hands start to shake as they lose his pulse and can’t bring him back. I notice that I’m mumbling something repeatedly but I can’t realise what.

I feel Rogers leave as the team gives up.

“Time of death, 1:03am,” the doctor calls.

I watch them wheel him out as Hill goes too. Taking a deep breath, I walk outside into the hallway.

“How did you know they were soviet-made?” Rogers asks, following me.

“Do you trust me?” I ask him, turning to face him.

“No. How did you know?”

“Why are you asking me when you don’t trust me?”

“Why are you dodging the question?”

“Cap!” Rumlow calls. “They want you back at SHIELD.”

“Give me a minute.”

“They want you now.”

“Okay,” he replies irritated.

“You’re not gonna ask me what Nick was doing in my apartment?” he asks.

“I know what he was doing there. Do you?” I raise a brow and turn on my heel, walking away.

I see Maria in the viewing room with Fury’s… body.

“I need to take him,” she says. “Don’t get yourself into trouble, alright?”

I roll my eyes. “I’m not a child, Maria.”

“Do you want a ride anywhere?”

“I’m good, thanks.”

“What, you’re just gonna hang around here until Rogers comes back?”

Yes that’s exactly what I was going to do. “No.”

She chuckles and walks away. I wait for all the SHIELD and STRIKE agents to clear out of the floor to go back into the waiting area. I go to the vending machine to pick up a snack and notice something that shouldn’t be there… the drive I gave Fury with SHIELD intel hidden behind three packets of bubble gum. Frowning I buy out the stack until the drive also falls to the dispenser. I take a seat, waiting for Rogers.

I don’t realise when I fell asleep until someone shakes me gently.

“I heard.”

I look up and it’s Sharon. “Hey.”

“How are you doing?”

“I’m fine.”

“Sure.”

“Don’t you have an assignment debriefing to give?” I reply.

She shrugs. “That can wait. I wanted to see how you were doing.”

“Did you wanna know what Fury was doing at Rogers’ apartment too?” I ask, suspicious.

“Do you know?”

I nod.

“Then that’s all I need to know.”

“Fury trusts – trusted him,” I correct myself. “That means we have to.”

A beeping comes from her wrist communicator and she sighs. “I have to go. I’ll keep you in the loop about what happens at the Triskelion.”

I frown. “Why would I need to be kept in the loop?”

“Because I know you’re gonna be on the run, soon. With him. To find that shooter. Pierce won’t like that you’re after him outside of mission directives…”

“I know. You be careful, Sharon.”

She smiles stiffly and I know it’s because she’s worried about me. “If I didn’t know better I’d say you were being careless and rash.”

“But you know better.”

She chuckles softly and turns to leave. I get up walk around to stretch my legs. Where the fuck is Rogers?

An hour passes and I’m back where I started but I see the man of the hour stop in front of the vending machine. I pop a strip of gum in my mouth and walk up behind him, blowing a bubble.

His face sharpens and he sighs then pulls me by the arm and takes us into a room.

“Where is it?”

“Safe.”

“Do better.”

“Fury trusted me. I’m on your side if he trusts you.”

“He doesn’t trust anyone. That’s the problem. That’s why he’s dead,” he says harshly.

I swallow the lump forming in my throat.

Rogers sighs and pulls away. “What’s on it?”

“I don’t know.”

“I bet you knew Fury hired the Pirates didn’t you?” he accuses.

No, no I didn’t. Stunned, I blink at the news. “Made sense. The ship was dirty, Fury needed a way in, so do you.”

“How did you know it was Soviet-made?” he repeats his earlier question, losing patience.

“I know who killed Fury,” I say. “The metal arm… I knew as soon as I saw it. 2009, Natasha had a mission in Odessa. Someone shot out her tires and killed the engineer she was protecting by shooting right through her. Soviet slug, no rifling. Metal arm. The intelligence community call him The Winter Soldier. I’ve heard him as the Asset. That’s who killed Fury.”

“How do we find him?”

“He’s been credited with two dozen assassinations in the last 50 years, Rogers. You don’t go after him. I’ve tried.”

He looks up at that, as if surprised. But he doesn’t know half the shit I’ve been through while working for SHIELD.

“So he’s a shadow.”

“Was.” I pull the drive out of my pocket and hold it up to him.

“Let’s find the Asset, then.”

💖

Thank you for reading! I’ll update once I’ve finished Chapter 4 but I am busy this weekend!

Chapter 3

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #steve rogers #slowburn #enemies to lovers #steve rogers x platonic!reader #captain america #bucky barnes fic #steve rogers fic #reader insert #rewrite #series rewrite #marvel #mcu

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theoreticalconstruct · 3 years

Text

Suit (DE, Jean, SFW)

@pridewrite2021 day 14: Transitioning / Gender Euphoria. This one applies to both.

Title: Suit Fandom: Disco Elysium Character: Jean Vicquemare Summary: Jean tries on a suit for the first time.

---

Jean had dreamed of doing this for years now.

He sat in his tiny apartment, staring at the suit he'd hung over his mirror. It wasn't exactly a fine garment - he wasn't going to be able to afford high-end clothes any time soon, probably not ever. But it was a man's suit, and he'd gotten it tailored by a good friend who still owed him a favor, and it should fit him. He just needed to try it on.

He hadn't really understood why he'd wanted this at first. He'd really thought he'd just hated the pressure of being a girl, of being feminine and pretty, wearing dresses and "capturing" a man as if it was some kind of weird competition. He'd dreamed of actually being a man for a while, but he'd thought it was just some kind of weird dream interpretation shit about wanting freedom, not, well, literally being a man.

Then he'd gotten sick with the pox - which was complete and utter horseshit, they had vaccinations for that now and he'd just been a few years too early - and he'd almost fucking died, but you wouldn't know his family had been happy he'd survived from how they'd behaved. His mother had literally cried over his scars, saying he'd never be beautiful, that the pox had taken it away from them (from *them,* she always said *them,* as if she wasn't the only one who gave a damn.) But Jean... he'd had to fight not to cheer over that part of it. Yeah, it had hurt like hell at first, and he could still feel that sometimes when he woke up in the middle of the night - nerve damage from the infection, his doctor had said, it would probably fade. But having the scars, not being "beautiful" anymore, that was a fucking *relief.*

Flash forward a few years. He'd left his home by then. He'd finally gotten sick of his family treating him like a commodity, like a way to better their social standing. Sick of them wanting him to stop sneaking out to lift weights, or he'd be too strong to make it as a respectable young lady. He'd end up like one of the immigrant laborer women, they'd told him, as if it was the worst possible fucking thing in the world, being from somewhere else and working outside in the sun. No one could ever accuse his family of being open-minded.

So he'd left. He figured all he had left of them was the family name now. He'd still lived under the old first name for a while, while he figured out what he wanted. He worked out whenever he could, going to inexpensive gymnasiums, scrounging up weights when he could. It gave him something to focus on when he was alone. Besides, he liked being stronger than most people.

The new name was a recent development. He liked it; it was simple, not flowery like the one his mother had picked out for him. And the suit... well. Maybe it was just another step. Like the new name, like the trousers and jacket he'd taken to wearing, like the support garment he'd picked up that had been less about support and more about concealing parts of himself that he didn't really feel much attachment to anymore.

He sighed, stood up from the corner of the bed, and started stripping off the old work clothes. Manual labor wasn't as horrible as his mother had said it would be, but it got boring after a while; he wanted something to do where he could think as much as labor. He still didn't know what that was, but maybe he ought to focus on figuring out one thing at a time, he thought as he went to wash off.

It went as quickly as most of his showers; getting hot water was an entire fucking production that he didn't usually have time for, so he would just rinse himself off under what felt like ice water, then towel himself off as fast as he could so he didn't freeze. He came out, towel around his waist. The new support garment was tight around his chest, but not too tight; he was going for runs wearing it lately, and he wasn't going to risk hurting himself. His friend - the one who'd tailored the suit - she'd told him all kinds of stories that he did *not* want to learn about firsthand.

Well, he thought to himself. Nothing else to do but put the thing on. He reached out for the suit, turning away from the mirror as he got dressed. It was easier that way. He went through the steps, counting them down in his head - underwear, undershirt, dress shirt, suit pants, tie, suit jacket, belt. The shoes were already his; he'd shined them as best he could but they weren't exactly high-end, either. He'd find something better someday.

He breathed in, patting himself down. It felt nice enough, he thought. Like he was put together for once, presentable. But how did it look? His friend said she'd tailored it as best she could, but he still had to take a few deep breaths, trying to temper his expectations. Whatever those were.

"Okay." he told himself. "No need to be any weirder about this, Jean. Just turn around."

He turned around, and stared. He stood up straight, pulled his shoulders back, lifted his arms. It moved with him, properly, didn't pull at the chest or crease around the buttons, didn't buckle around the shoulders. It looked like it had been made for him. He smiled, flashing off-white teeth, and it was a real smile. He'd been worried about not having a mustache or beard - he hadn't been able to grow a proper one yet - but it didn't matter, not when he looked at himself. He looked exactly like a man in a tailored suit.

He sat down, to make sure it was comfortable when he sat, and it was. It was comfortable, the wool warmer than his usual clothes in the cold apartment. He reached up, straightened the black tie, just a bit. And... it was him. It was him, in a suit, looking like he belonged there.

"Huh," he said, and then he smiled. He still had a few things he'd change, if he could - there were pills, creams, even surgeries if he could ever afford the damn things, he'd *have* to find a job that suited him better - but for the most part, he looked exactly like he should. And yeah, for once, it felt pretty good. "This might work out after all."

#Disco Elysium #Fanfiction #Jean Vicquemare #FTM character #pridewrite2021

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misterewrites · 3 years

Text

Secret Agent Bard (Welcome to the Underground!)

Hello everyone! E here with a new chapter of the underground! Woo! I hope you are all doing good and staying safe.

So I actually have more to say today! That's a trip. I’ll have an author’s note under the line.

So that's it for now. Stay safe, take care of you and your loved ones, stay out of trouble, wash your hands, wear your mask, get vaccinated if you can and push to release the vaccine world wide cuz we're all in this together. Have a great week and thanks for reading. I appreciate it and feel free to tell your friends, reblog, drop likes and feedback i love it all. Bye for now and enjoy!

If you want an easier place to read the story cuz tumblr sucks sometimes here’s a link to the chapter https://archiveofourown.org/works/27814297/chapters/79541746

The First Chapter: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27814297/chapters/68094967

and since you made it this far here’s a link to all my stories!

https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrE42/pseuds/MrE42

Byeeeeee!

Author’s note: Today’s work will be a little different as there will be singing. The chapter with the bard is gonna have singing? Go figure haha So if you see a sentence in Italics, that means someone is singing. Bold and italics represents various people singing as a group. The song in question is called twiddles. There's different versions of it but the one I chose is from the misbehavin maidens. Great group but all their work ranges from innuendos to straight up not safe for work so listen at your peril. I have now completed my responsible adult duties haha. here’s a link to the chosen song https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iS1-_fKF5ug

Summary: Oliver has quite the task ahead of him as the group splits to achieve their goals. Leading Sel and Flora, the young bard will have to think quick on his feet to ensure this mission is a success. Luckily he's an old hand at this. Ironically the one person who could distract him may make a surprise appearance tonight.

-----

Oliver stood quietly, arms crossed and his mind thoughtful as the group prepared to go their separate ways. While ideally nothing would go wrong, that was a childish belief: Every person and robotic being here knew safety was not guaranteed in their line of work.

Even the old man knew the risks.

Oliver hated doing nothing. He thrived when he was busy, focused on whatever task required his attention whether it be being a better bard or upholding the Choir’s values. Too many ghosts and regrets lingered on the edges of his mind and he found the best solution was to simply keep occupied.

But that was his coping mechanism, not everyone else. He knew better than to rush his team: The party would last at least another few hours and beside the goal of getting Sel to the third floor, there was nothing else to do. No information to gather, nothing to review. Let them have their moment, it was good for morale.

Terri and Flora were sickeningly adorable: Hands clasped tightly with Terri tearfully asking her girlfriend to not poison everyone. Flora gave a halfhearted promise while as they shared a tender kiss. Terri noticed her less than enthused tone but refused to press the matter further.

Tyrell stood awkwardly to the side, his face twisted in a strange mixture of sick and excited. He fidgeted with something in his pocket, seeking comfort from whatever lay within. Given the shape of the bulge and size, Oliver guessed it was a knife.

Sel stood nearby, motionless in the shadows of the alley. They hadn’t moved in some time though he suspected the automaton was simply waiting for the next phase of the plan.

“Alright” Oliver spoke up, his voice firm yet gentle “Times up. You have your assignments?”

Uneven murmuring responded.

“Let’s go.”

Oliver, Sel and Flora went down one end of the alley, Terri and Tyrell disappearing in the opposite direction.

-----

It didn’t take long for the trio to find the main streets of the Merchant Ward and make their way towards the Brambleoak banking office. The crowds weren’t as thick as they had been during the day but Oliver knew everyone out and about did so with a purpose.

“Bard.” Flora asked without warning, breaking the awkward silence “Question.”

“Answer.” Oliver cheekily replied.

Flora glared.

Oliver coughed “Yes?”

“You are a First Chair Soprano correct?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Yet you are so young. How did you manage that? I thought First Chair ranks were only reserved for experienced or particularly skilled members. You don’t seem to be very magically powerful.”

Oliver paused for a moment, trying to best answer the question.

In a way Flora was correct in her assessment: He wasn’t particularly powerful as a spellcasting bard. Unlike Flora who clearly committed herself fully to nature and thus druidic magic, Oliver had only recently thrown himself into the magical arts.

Unless you were a wizard who studied the secrets of the universe with a very intimate and well versed knowledge of magic, most spellcasters drew their power from sources of existence: Clerics from their gods, Druids from nature, Warlocks from something beyond mortal existence yet not quite a deity, sorcerers because a family member fucked around with pure incomprehensible concepts. Magic was the fabric of the universe and the more you threw yourself into a source of power, the more the source threw itself into you, guiding your hand and your spells.

Of course each, wizards exempt, were limited in their spellcasting options. Clerics were powerful holy/unholy practitioners but couldn’t command plant life to save their lives. Druids were in tune with nature and the weather and all the lovely flora and fauna but ask them to superimpose an image onto something and they’d give you a dumbfounded look. Warlocks kinda just do whatever their sugar patrons felt like lending.

Magic bards drew their power from the arts: Drawing, singing, poetry, even witty and funny satire. Bards were in tune with life, with existence. Art could heal, could hurt, could make you feel happy and sad. It could make you feel like a whole new person or perhaps take you to a time and place you’d forgotten. Bards sung the song of life and Oliver was no exception.

However, Oliver still wasn’t sure what he could do exactly. His magical muscle was average on a good day and he could only cast a few spells before needing a good night’s rest. The basic healing spells and comprehension language he cast earlier today had taken a good chunk of his energy but he relied more on his wit than raw magical strength. He discovered creative and useful ways to cast his spells like amplifying dissonance noises to distract and disorient foes or temporarily place another person’s image over himself. Magic was as much about creativity as it was skill, pushing the limits of what you can do with your particular brand of spells.

“I’m clever.” Oliver answered honestly “The whole magic of the arts is new to me but I’ve been in the Choir for a long time now. I used to be Tenor like Sel here but more fast talking than breaking and entering. I guess they carried over my old position into my new one.”

Flora nodded, satisfied “That answers much. How long have you been a bard?”

“Few years now.” Oliver checked the street sign to ensure they were on the right path “The magic part is going on 3 years.”

“I see.” Flora scratched her chin “I’ve been a druid my whole life so it is a strange concept to be so new to the spellcasting arts yet hold such a high rank.”

Oliver gave a casual shrug “Not sure what you want me to say. We’re here by the way.”

The bank looked as unkempt as Oliver had remembered: Faded, peeling green paint with gaudy gray stone pillars. Two guards in green uniforms stood in front of the massive reddish brown doors that led into the bank.

“Lea’s mercenaries.” Sel pointed out “They are not letting anyone in.”

“Correction.” Oliver brushed off nonexistent dirt from his washed-out outfit “They’re not letting nobodies in. Luckily tonight we’re somebodies. Follow my lead.”

Oliver let out a tense breathe before strolling forward, his mannerism cocky yet unsteady. He reached the top of the steps when two sharp looking blades reached out to stop him.

“Halt” The elvish woman spoke with a hint of irritation “You lost?”

“Not at all!” Oliver beamed with a smile that was too wide to be natural “I’m here for the party. There is a party inside no?”

“No” The human man spat out.

Oliver gave a forgetful grin “Oh? I could’ve sworn Brambleoak was having some sort of charity event tonight. I’d show you my invite but I think I misplaced it.”

The elvish woman sneered “Right. How convenient for you having lost your special one of a kind invite.”

“Pfft.” Oliver scoffed “Special one of a kind invite? Reiner hands them out like candy. Probably find one in a gutter nearby.”

The guards shared an unspoken understanding with one another.

“Well.” The human began “Let’s pretend that is true.”

“It is but go on.”

The human’s eyes narrowed “Why should we let you in? You dress rather poorly for someone claiming to be in Reiner’s usual circles.”

Oliver let out an exaggerated gasp as he puffed out his chest “Do you know who I am?”

“Umm no.”

Oliver growled unhappily, his fist clenched tightly within his pocket “I am rich! I AM POWERFUL! AND I DEMAND ACCESS!”

As quick as lightning, Oliver flung a handful of gold coins towards the pair. The two reeled back in surprised as the money clanked onto the smooth marble floor. A moment hardly passed before the guards were shoving the loose coins into their tunic pockets like hungry dogs. They straightened up, eyes alive with greed.

“Of course sir” The elvish woman bowed her head in apologize “Deeply sorry for that.”

“Please go ahead.”

Oliver gave a self satisfied nod before moving past the pair only to stop as he heard the sounds of swords scraping each other. He turned backwards to see the guards barring access to Flora and Sel.

Flora looked back and forth between the guards, her eyes calculating and cold. Sel stood still but clearly at the ready for any sort of trouble.

“They’re with me.”

The Elvish woman shook her head “We said we’d let you in. These two? Definitely not Reiner’s usual prey.”

“They aren’t” Oliver admitted “But I need them.”

The human turned to him, suspicion in his eyes “Why?”

“She…” Oliver pointed lazily towards Flora “Is my street doctor.”

“Street doctor? As in….?”

Oliver gave a cheery wink “The fun kind.” And for give measure, he added a weak shiver to his act “Ugggggh I feel cold, are you cold? It’s cold.”

Before anyone could say anything, Oliver began shaking. He rubbed his hands for ‘warmth’ while swaying back and forth.

“Uh oh.” Flora spoke dully, pushing past the guards and holding Oliver steady “He’s crashing. I need to give him his umm medicine.”

“Medicine?” Oliver repeated, his voice soft yet manic “Yes medicine. I need it. I NEED IT!”

Folks began to turn their way, the guards shifting uncomfortably under the sudden attention they were receiving.

“And this one?” The Elvish woman gestured to Sel.

Oliver began to rock back and forth, his voice a harsh whisper. “Guard. Guard. Guard guard guard guard.”

The human threw up his hands in defeat “Bah! Get him in there and fixed! Any trouble and I’ll personally come over to beat your asses.”

“Thank you sir.” Flora murmured through gritted teeth. She guided Oliver and Sel through the doors and into the party within.

Flora sighed as Sel cracked the tension out of their fingers. Oliver straightened up, wiping the sweat from his brow.

True to his expectations, the bank had been altered to be suitable for a charity event: Torches lined the walls, casting the building into a bright light. The desks normally found on the floor were gone as to allow a more spacious setting. Oliver counted a handful of guards scattered about, wandering about for any sign of trouble. All except for the lone guard beyond the empty elevated platform who stood in front of the stairway to the upper floors.

“What now?” Flora asked

“Split up. Sel stay close to the door, Flora and I will figure out a distraction.”

“Sounds good.”

And without another word, Oliver was swallowed whole into the crowd.

-----

It had taken an hour for Oliver to figure out what kind of distraction he would need.

The patrols themselves hadn’t been very difficult to plan for: They would move randomly about, keeping an eye on the party and each other. He counted about 6 of them total and each one of them was easily starstruck. At the sign of any disagreement, they would swarm in groups of three and quickly threaten any troublemakers into compliance. However, upon meeting anyone with even the smallest bit of fame, they would subtly motion to each other and make their way as one to the person in question, hoping for a glance or the chance for an autograph.

So the floor guards were no problem but the one standing watch over the door was much more difficult. Evidently Lea was smart enough to give the most important job to the most responsible of his idiots. The stairway guard or Stairy as Oliver labeled him, would not budge at the sign of any trouble. Loud arguments, agitated party goers, a waiter being tripped (sorry it was for science buddy). None of these would pull him from his post. Celebrities wouldn’t either. Any time his buddies motioned to a famous person, he would shrug his shoulders and stay put.

Oliver was beginning to wonder if Flora needed to poison Stairy until he noticed something about half way into his observations: Stairy was a music lover. Specifically a cute girl music lover.

His gaze would wander every time he caught sight of a pretty girl who happened to be too close to him. Oliver wasn’t sure at first so he decided to test his theory. With his pocket change lessened, Oliver noticed how often a girl would catch Stairy’s eye. His attention didn’t shift when they fell in front of him, obviously in distress, or walked slower allowing him to enjoy the view longer but Oliver caught him smiling and tapping his foot when the odd girl would sing. He even staggered away from his door a few steps at a time before catching himself and returning to his post.

So the best distraction would be a girl who could sing and have some level of fame attached to her name.

Oddly specific and Oliver hadn’t the slightest idea how he was going to mange that. He was attempting to solve this puzzle when something caught his ear.

“Get off me you mulched dirt licker!”

That rather unique set of cursing could only mean one thing: Flora.

Oliver turned to where he last spotted her and found the young druid being hassled by a tall man in an elegant uniform.

Oliver noticed the guards were looking about, not yet spotting the commutation but aware something was going on. He needed to act first if he wanted to stop Flora deciding to kill everyone in the room.

The bard quickly slipped into the crowd, darting and weaving between any and everyone he could. He saw Flora slip a small vial into her hand as the man towered over her.

“I jus wanna dance.” the man’s words slurred out of his mouth “A pretty thing like yo shou wanna dance”

Flora’s eyes narrowed angrily “For the last time you dried poop stain, LEAVE ME ALONE!”

Flora pulled back her hand, prepared to throw the mysterious vial at the drunk’s face.

“Whoa!” Oliver cried out, tightly grasping onto Flora’s wrist “What seems to be the problem?”

“Nothing I can’t solve on my own.” Flora coldly glanced towards the drunken man.

“One sec.”

Oliver eyed the man carefully, absorbing every little detail he could.

He could see the muscles strain against the fabric of his light green tunic so this man worked in something physically laborious. The sheathed sword on his belt weight seemed to throw him off balance with every step. His gaze was unsteady and Oliver could see his pupils dilating wildly.

So this man was physically fit, armed with a sword in a charity event for the rich people and wearing light green tunic while currently drunk.

“You should leave her alone” Oliver said, sarcasm dipping from each word “You are so not her type.”

“So?” The man hiccupped “What’s the big deal?”

“So she’s got a girlfriend you idiot.” Oliver gestured with his hand “Besides you should go before your boss Lea gets here. I’m betting he won’t be happy one of his undercover mercs is currently drunk on the job. Of course I could always tell your captain what’s going on. That’s him over there right?”

Oliver gestured to the closest guard making his way towards the trio. He didn’t look any different than any guards but Oliver noticed his green was a shade darker than the rest. Lea probably used different hues to signify rank in his mercenaries.

The drunk’s face paled as he fidgeted nervously. He rose his hands in surrender, eyes darting between the two “Sorry.”

“Any trouble?” The captain approached, his hand tightly held around the hilt of his blade.

Oliver beaned cheerfully, trying his best to pull attention away from the fuming Flora “Not at all my good sir. This man simply mistook us for someone else, correct?”

The drunk nodded slowly “My bad. Forgive my intrusion.”

The captain gave a cold smirk “Apologizes. Mikey?”

The drunk flinched “Yes sir?”

“A word in private. Now.”

Oliver let out a sigh of relief as the captain dragged Mikey away..

“You should’ve let me poison them.” Flora muttered darkly.

Oliver scratched the back of his neck tiredly “Night’s still young. Still might get your chance if I can’t figure a way past Stairy.”

Flora tilted her head quizzically “Stairy?”

“The asshole at the base of the stairs.” Oliver answered absentmindedly as he spotted a familiar streak of platinum blonde hair among the crowd of strangers “And I just figured it out. Can I trust you not to poison everyone here?”

“You have an hour. I get bored easily” Flora swirled the sickly purple liquid in the vial threateningly.

“You and me both.” Oliver patted her shoulder before chasing down his perfect distraction.

-----

Oliver’s heart began to thunder loudly in his ears, a nervous and uncontrollable energy overtaking his resolve. The mission was important but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t happy to see Maria today.

Maria Thoreau was the daughter of a powerful, influential family. The Thoreau’s were more concerned with their standing in high society than any virtuous endeavors and thus each one of their children was trained from birth to excel in their chosen field. Maria’s older brothers were an aspiring politician and merchant respectively.

Maria’s path was to be a well famous singer and patron of the arts. She wanted nothing more than to sing for the people. Unfortunately, her father only saw a chance to further the family’s good name and tied his desire for power with her passion and dream. It was bittersweet really but nothing much could be done about it.

Yet.

Maria knew Oliver as a musical rival who thwarted her group’s attempts at winning local competitions which in turned derailed her father’s plans. So needless to say she was less than thrilled when she caught him making his way over.

“Ollie” she forced a smile while her hazel eyes narrowed, peeved “I’m surprised to see they let you into this exclusive event.”

Oliver gave a cocky shrug “Well your beauty caught my attention and I couldn’t resist trying to figure out a way in.”

Maria’s cheeks burned a pinkish hue.

Maria was the same age as Oliver with short, tastefully cut dark brown hair. A single streak of platinum blonde hair hung off the side of her face, giving her such a cute look. Her clothes were practical tonight since she wasn’t performing: A simple white blouse with a long flowing dark blue skirt that went all the way down to her feet. Her shoes were sensible dark blue flats designed for comfort over style.

Maria coughed into her hand, willing her blush away.

“So.” She cleared her throat “Is this your sad attempt to throw me off my game? You won’t win the next competition. We’ll be dealing with professional judges this time.”

Oliver’s eyes widen in false surprise “There’s a competition here? Fancy that. I hadn’t been made aware of that but since we’re both in town, why not have a round two?”

“Oliver….”

“I mean” Oliver went on, pretending not have heard “You are a much better singer solo than with those harpies you’re forced to keep around.”

Maria glanced to the side timidly “Don’t be absurd, the Melodic Maidens are a perfect, well oiled machine.”

Oliver scoffed dismissively “I suppose they’re nearby, listening in. Hardly leave you alone, don’t they?”

Maria opened her mouth to respond when a shrilly voice cut in.

“What do you know you two bit hack? How much did you bribe the judges last time?!”

Oliver gave a strained smile as the rest of the ladies forced their way into view.

“Lilly, Filly, Sally. You suck.”

The triplets snarled in unison, openly glaring at the bard.

Lilly, Filly and Sally were Maria’s chains: They were as much there to further her career as they were to report back to daddy to ensure the errant daughter stayed on course.

As triplets, they all shared the same features: Three pairs of dull green eyes and long messy black hair. Even their clothing were the same with each wearing a strapless dress that showed way too much skin and skirts that were way too short. The only reason Oliver could tell them apart was due to their preferred colors: Lilly in a shade of pink that was bright for her skin tone, Filly with a pale ugly yellow and Sally in seas of dark red.

The trio surrounded Maria, their arms embracing her in an uncomfortable hug. Maria bit her lip, trying to hide her uneasy.

“Still wearing that tacky outfit huh Ollie?” Lilly eyed his faded clothing distastefully.

Sally let out an unfriendly laugh “Ollie always looks like trash. Not even prize money could buy an ounce of class.”

“Actually” Oliver brushed his shoulder dismissively “Class is cheap. No amount of money could buy an ounce of character. You can blow hot air at me all you want but nothing in this world could ever change the fact that the three of you are bitches.”

The trio clicked their tongues disappointingly, their normally plain faces twisted into unflattering visages of rage while they screamed as one.

“HOW DARE YOU INSULT US?!”

“YOU ARE SUCH A POOR TACTLESS MAN!”

“YOU FUCKER!”

Oliver casually waved his hand “All bark and no bite. I’m supposed believe you’ve gotten any better in two months? Last time I checked I won the last competition.”

“OH YEAH?!” The triplets yelled, furious.

Maria threw a suspicious glance Oliver’s way “Girls, I don’t think…”

“Come on Maria, we don’t want to have to tell daddy you backed down from a challenge.”

A shiver ran down her spine, the fight draining out of her face. Oliver felt a tinge of guilt but said nothing as the girls took their positions.

Maria paused for a moment, her breathing slow and calm. The murmur of the crowds grew louder and louder upon the recognition that the ladies nearby were the Melodic Maidens.

Maria pivoted on her heels, a bright warm smile gracing her lips. Oliver could feel his heart skip a beat at the sound of her soft, airy voice beginning to sing

“Oh you hear a lot of stories about the sailors and their sport” Maria gave a playful wink his way. His cheeks burned brightly at her playful banter.

“About how every sailor has a girl in every port”

Maria twirled, her steps mischievous and alluring as her dark blue dress chased after her. She gracefully held two fingers aloft for everything to see, her smirk cocky and assured.

“but if you added two and two you’d figure out right quick”

Maria backed up as the triplets step forward to join her, the group made whole and ready for the chorus.

“It’s just because the girls all have a lad on every ship”

Maria turned to throw a sultry look towards her rival bard but instead of finding a dumbstruck Oliver, she found a smiling one. His gaze was gentle and loving as if he was seeing utterly beautiful. A small smile was tugging at his cheeks. Maria could feel her heart thunder in her ears as, without warning, Oliver gave a thumbs up and mouthed an appreciative “Thanks” before ducking into the growing crowd.

“And it’s twiddley idle idle idle, twiddley idle aye.”

What was once a spattering of folks formed into a massive gathering. Most of the party goers and guards had come over to catch the free show the girls inadvertently given and thus all focus shifted onto them. What was an attempt to show up Oliver ended up being a very unnecessary showcase.

“It’s often times a man will leave you broken with dismay”

Boy was Maria feeling that dismay right now.

-----

Oliver’s plan worked: Stairy hadn’t been to resist the siren call of a beautiful woman and her singing. Luckily the harpies hadn’t ruined it with their imperfect pitches. Stairy hadn’t taken more than a few steps when Sel slipped in behind and began working at the door. It took a moment but one blink later and the automaton vanished out of sight.

Oliver let out a sigh when a hand gripped his shoulder tightly.

“Hello sir.” A guff, low voice in a less than friendly voice “Might I have a word? You’ve been acting rather strange all party long.”

Well fuck.

#Welcome to the Underground #My Story #Original Work #original story

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weirdestbooks · 3 years

Text

Secret States Chapter 1

A Normal Beginning

America's POV I rubbed my eyes as I began waking up. I had finally gotten enough free time, without my insomnia keeping me up, so I was able to get an hour of sleep. That's not a lot, but way more than I normally gets.

"I can't believe I actually slept." I muttered to myself as I pulled myself out of bed, holding my chest where pains remained due to COVID and the capital riot. I looked around my room, which was pretty empty. I had a desk that was covered in paperwork, along with my laptop. Next to it was a printer. The desk and printer sat between two bookshelves, which were filled with books, non-fiction and fiction alike.

There was a couch next to the bookshelves, underneath a window that looked outside.My bed was opposite of my desk. It was plain, with blue covers and red sheets. I had a bedside table with a lamp, and a picture of me with my kids.

Unlike what most other countries thought of him, I could be and was mature. I love my kids, all sixty-two of them. My states and territories, along with DC, NASA, NATO, Liberia, Palau, Marshall Islands and Micronesia. I even considered Philippines and Cuba to be family, even though I wasn't sure they, especially Cuba, returned those feelings. I would tell them, but I didn't want to make things awkward between us.

I got out of bed and walked towards the bathroom. I looked at myself in the mirror, seeing my Stars and Stripes, along with my black eyes. My black eyes were very odd. No other country had them, only the organizations, although I wasn't technically a country myself. The United States of America was called the Union for a reason.

I didn't always have my black eyes though. They looked like any other country's eyes until the large waves of immigrants that changed America from having one culture, to having so many, I can't claim a nationwide culture.

Even though both my father, the United Kingdom and the Soviet Union are also technically unions as well, they didn't have the black eyes I do, which lead me to believe black eyes were a sign of having no or many cultures, as opposed to a main one.

This theory was only further cemented when New York developed black eyes as well. Although, he was pretty sure Soviet had one black eye, which was the reason for his eyepatch.

I got myself ready for another day of mind numbingly boring meetings with the rest of the world. I hated how other countries always liked blaming me for things or just making fun of me. I know my country had done horrible things and I hate myself for being unable to stop the government from doing them, but the other countries didn't need to bring it up.

At least my family stood up for me, along with my friends, like Germany and Japan, although how Japan could be friends with me after what I did to her mother was a question I could never find the answer to.

I shook the pessimistic thoughts out of my head, muttering "No pienses así América. Estas tratando de compesarlo. Deja de culparte cuando las cosas van mal." (Don't think that way America. You're trying to make up for it. Stop blaming yourself when things go wrong.)

I opened the door to my room, before almost being barreled down by American Samoa and Hawaii. American Samoa and Hawaii were dressed very similarly, with t-shirts and shorts, although Hawaii wore a lei. Hawaii's flag had a Union Jack in the upper left hand corner, with blue, red and white stripes. American Samoa's flag was dark blue, with a white triangle that had a red outline coming from the right corners. In the triangle was a bald eagle holding a war club and a fly whisk.

"Faʻamalie Tama. O aʻu ma Hawaii sa na o le taumafai lava e faʻatumu le isi vaega o atumotu o le Pasefika e faʻamalosi ai atumotu Caribbean." (Sorry Dad. Me and Hawaii were just trying to get the rest of the Pacific islands to prank the Caribbean islands.) American Samoa said. Due to not having an official language, I was able to understand and speak all languages spoken within my borders. This wasn't a small amount, with approximately 350 languages spoken in the US. I loved this however, as it allowed my children, especially my adopted ones to speak their first language, or just whatever one they preferred.

"Mai hopohopo makuakāne, e hōʻoia wau ʻaʻole e ʻeha kekahi!" (Don't worry father, i'll make sure no one gets hurt!) Hawaii stated as she grabbed American Samoa by the arm pulling her brother towards Guam and the Northern Mariana Islands room. I smiled at my kid's antics as he walked towards the stairs. As I walked downstairs I bumped into another person, causing them to drop their papers.

"Sorry D." I said as I helped the district gather up her papers. The District of Columbia, or Washington DC, was wearing a pencil skirt with a button up dress shirt. Her flag was white, with two red lines though the center and three red stars at the top.

"It's okay Dad." She responded, smiling, "I'm glad you finally got some sleep though. You know I can help you if you get overwhelmed. I am the capital after all."

"You do enough as it is. You're also up early. Are you heading to the capitol building to try and convince Congress to grant you statehood?" I questioned, handing DC back her papers which consisted of plans on how they could redraw the capital to allow for Washington DC to become a state.

"Yeah. I'm upset that Trump prevented it from happening, but hopefully with a new president I can get closer to achieving statehood. I'm going to head out now. Vermont's making breakfast. Love you Dad, goodbye!" DC said as she walked out the front door.

"Love you too" I responded before sticking my head in the kitchen.

"Bonjour Vermont" I said as I looked at the nation-turned state. Vermont was wearing a green and blue plaid shirt along with jeans and worn out boots. His flag was blue with a coat of arms in it, the central image being a pine tree.

"Bonjour Papa" Vermont said as he took another couple of pancakes off the griddle. "Je prépare des crêpes pour tout le monde, alors ne vous inquiétez pas pour la cuisine. C'est une journée de repos pour vous." (I'm making pancakes for everyone, so don't worry about cooking. It is a rest day for you.).

"Merci Vermont." I said as I walked into the dining room, being met with the faces of NATO, New York and Delaware.

"Hey guys. Did you get any sleep York?" I asked them as I sat down.

"Like your one to talk Dad. And I did." New York said as he sipped a pot of coffee. New York was wearing a suit and had a blue flag with his coat of arms on it.

"Don't worry, I'll make sure York gets some sleep before he collapses." Delaware said. Delaware was dressed in a shirt and jeans. His flag was a colonial blue, with a yellow sideways triangle with his coat of arms on it. The flag also showed the date he ratified the Constitution, December 7, 1787.

"I was founded by twelve countries, why's this the family that I have to be a part of?" NATO asked. NATO was wearing a suit, as he also had to participate in meetings with other countries. His flag was blue with a compass rose, with four lines coming out of the four cardinal directions.

"Really?"

"Come on NATO, you know you love us."

I laughed at my kids' protests to NATO's comment as Vermont came out with the pancakes.

"Foods ready. Where's everyone else?" Vermont asked and he put a plates of pancakes on the table.

"Sleeping." Delaware said.

"Del, we're Americans, we don't sleep for this long." Vermont said, crossing his arms.

"The South are messing around in the backyard, but surprisingly, the West is still asleep. I think the Midwest is doing something with the crops. The four corners are doing something. NASA on the phone with Navajo talking about names for that Mars mission he has." NATO said as he began to eat his pancakes.

"How do you know what everyone's doing?" New York asked.

"I don't. I have no idea what the territories, Mid-Atlantic's, Hawaii or Alaska are doing." NATO responded.

"Sam and Hawaii are trying to convince the Pacific islands to help them prank the Caribbean islands." I said, thinking back to the conversation I had with the two islands earlier that morning.

"Are the former territories going to be involved?" Delaware asked.

"That I don't know. I'll let you know if any of them tell me something about it" I said. As I said that, an alarm on my phone went off.

"Time to go?" NATO asked.

"Yep. Del, you and the Thirteen are in charge, along with Vermont. Alaska has been having nightmares again, so help him with that if you need to." I said as I got up from the table.

"Got it." New York said as he took another large sip of his coffee.

"Á bientôt!" (See you soon) Vermont said.

————————————————————————

Canada's POV (BTW, I am not describing the flags of any countries that are well known, only the states because they aren't as well known) I sat down next to my brother Australia as I walked into the meeting room.

"Hey, have you seen Ame recently?" I asked Australia.

"No, but 2020 was crazy for everyone, he's probably just dealing with COVID stuff. UN did cancel all in-person meetings in 2020 because of COVID. Thank god for the vaccine." Australia said, rubbing a hand on a burn scar.

"Mes fils!" (My sons!) I heard my mother announce from behind me. I looked over to see my father, UK; my younger brother, New Zealand; my uncle, Ireland; and my mother, France.

"Bonjour Maman. Comment ça va?" (Hello Mom. How are you?) I said. Maman smiled.

"Très bien. Avez-vous vu Ame?" (Very good. Have you seen Ame?) She asked.

"Non." Canada replied.

"What are you talking about? I heard Ame's name, but I don't know French." New Zealand cut in.

"Sorry Kiwi." Maman said.

"I heard my name. Are we talking about me?" I heard America's voice from behind me.

"Ame!" Australia said. I turned around to see my brother, who had his hands in his pockets. He had his sunglasses on and had a slight smile on his face.

"Hello America." Père said.

"What up Pops? How's everyone been?" America asked, sitting down next to Australia.

"COVID's been tough. I'm glad for the vaccine though." Père answered as he and Maman sat down.

"Thank god for the vaccine is definitely on everyone's mind." Maman said. UN then walked into the room followed by NATO, ASEAN, EU and AU.

"Hello everyone. I am hoping to continue our meetings for now, but if there are any complications involving COVID we will head back to online meetings." UN stated. "We will begin with the countries most affected by COVID. First up will be the United States of America, followed by the Federative Republic of Brazil and the Republic of India."

————————————————————————

The meeting was incredibly boring, just everyone talking about their cases and vaccinations, the same thing we've been doing since COVID started. After the meeting, I walked out with my family as they discussed random topics.

"Man I wish Uncle Scotland, Uncle England, Uncle Wales and Uncle North could attend these meetings. Then we could really have a family reunion." New Zealand said.

"Your Uncles would make a mess out of the meeting. Nothing would get done." Père stated.

"So we should definitely let them come. It would make it more fun!" America said.

"Yeah Britain, let our brothers come. They would definitely add spice to the boring meetings." Uncle Ireland said, draping an arm around Père's shoulders. America and Uncle Ireland always loved joking around trying to get a rise out of Père. I think it stems from their independence, but they are still close regardless.

"We should try and get together, we are vaccinated and we can wear masks if anyone gets truly worried about it." Australia suggested.

"Let's. I need to see someone other than myself. Maybe tomorrow?" I asked. Everyone gave nods of agreement, aside from America.

"America?" Maman asked, questioning his lack of a decision. America bit his lip.

"I'll have to check, but I'm pretty sure I'll be able to." He said, but still seemed conflicted. I was worried about my brother. He had a lot of COVID cases and seemed to be a lot more tired than usual. But if something bad was happening, surely America would tell someone.

"America, can I speak to you alone?" A voice behind us asked. I turned around to see a country with a flag very similar to America's, but instead of the fifty stars there was one big one.

"Sure thing Liberia. I'll be right back, guys" America said, walking over to Liberia.

"I didn't know Liberia and America were friends." Père commented.

"Ame's friends with everyone." Australia said. He then paused and continued, "Well not with North Korea or Iran or Russia-Okay maybe he's not friends with everyone, but he has a lot of friends."

#weird’s wattpad stories #statehumans #countryhumans #countryhumans america #secret states by weird #writing

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3pirouette · 3 years

Text

Fic: Virtual Insanity: Career Opportunities (1/1)

Title: Virtual Insanity: Career Opportunities By: TriplePirouette/3Pirouette Disclaimer: They're not mine. Word Count: Distribution: AO3 Anyone else please ask first :)

Story Summary: It’s career day on Mr. Roger’s Zoom class, and Peggy needs to come up with something, quick. Sequel to Virtual Insanity.

Chapter A/N: I needed to write something fluffy and I’ve been DYING to find a way to get back to this little universe. This satisfies the “Sharon Carter” square for my Steggy Bingo. (We’re not talking about FATWS/CAATWS right now. I can’t. I just can’t.)

~*~

Don’t be mad at me.

The text itself was fairly innocuous, but her brain started to race, anyway. Peggy’s fingers flew over the keyboard, texting back: Is there a reason I should be?

She stared at the phone screen, waiting while the three little dots that meant he was typing appeared and disappeared twice over. Now she was worried.

“Aunt Peggy?” Sharon’s voice carried through her small apartment.

Peggy hummed a question in her closed mouth as the girl took off her headphones and bounded towards her, but the phone vibrated in her hands and pulled her attention back.

The Principal decided to observe me today instead of Thursday. Said he wanted to see a more interactive lesson plan, so I had to switch things up on short notice. I swear I was going to give you a heads up.

Before she could ask him anything else, Sharon sat herself next to Peggy at the tiny kitchen table, her notebook and pencil in hand. “Mr. Rogers gave us an assignment and I have thirty minutes to do it before I have to go back to my class and talk to them about it.”

Peggy smiled tight, the girl missing the tension in her sigh. “Oh? And what is the assignment?”

Sharon smiled. “I need to ask you questions about what you do for work.”

Peggy nodded, her mind racing as she tried to come up with what she was going to tell her niece. Not sure how you’ll do with the principal, she texted Steve, but that promotion to boyfriend you were looking for might be in serious jeopardy.

She waited a second then sent him a winking emoji, just to lighten up the mood. Having gotten to know Steve as well as she had over the last few weeks, she knew he might think her serious.

“Alright,” Peggy turned and faced Sharon, “how can I help?”

Sharon smiled and wiggled herself around in the chair, picking up her pencil before turning seriously to Peggy. “What do you do for a job?”

The honest answer would have been that she was making an obscene amount of money online by bouncing around her house doing chores in lingerie. That was not, however, the answer she could give to Sharon. “Well,” she bit the corner of her thumbnail and turned her phone over, not wanting to read the text that had just popped up from Steve, “I used to work for a company that helped other companies…” Peggy sighed, she wasn’t sure how to explain corporate espionage to Sharon, either.

Sharon looked up. “What did you do there? How did you help other companies?”

Peggy tapped her nails on the counter nervously, trying to come up with a good example. “Well, the company I worked for helped businesses keep secrets. For instance, you know how that chicken you like always says there are eleven secret herbs and spices?”

Sharon nodded. “Kentucky Fried Chicken!”

Peggy laughed a little. “Yes, well, those eleven are a secret for a reason. It’s what makes the chicken taste good to you.” Peggy leaned in dramatically and Sharon’s eyes widened. “But if everyone knew the secret, anyone who wanted to could make their chicken taste like that, and then that man with the silly bowtie—”

“Colonel Sanders,” Sharon interjected as she made some notes.

“Yes, he would have a hard time making money from the recipe he developed because it wasn’t a secret anymore. I helped other companies keep their secrets.” Peggy smiled to herself as the girl wrote furiously, satisfied. She wasn’t sure if she’d managed to make her job understandable to an 8-year-old, but it was close enough for now.

Sharon stared at her seriously. “And did you get to know the secrets or do you just have to stop other people from finding out?”

“Sometimes I got to know them, but most of the time I just had to help hide them, or help the company have enough security.”

Peggy’s stress melted away as Sharon asked her question after question and she was able to answer honestly, if not a little vaguely, for the next fifteen minutes. When she ran out of questions, Peggy cut her up an apple and put that and a spoonful of peanut butter on a plate for her at the table, where she waited for her class to start again with her snack.

Finally, she picked up her phone again.

I am so, so sorry. Really, I am. It was planned for Friday. I was going to tell you on Facetime tomorrow. I’ll have her go last. Billy Ryan can TALK. I’ll just let that kid go and maybe we’ll run out of time. Principal Clark won’t know the difference.

Peggy smiled, letting her fingers fly over the keyboard. Did you not see the ;)? It’s fine, and I’m not upset. Good luck on your evaluation and call me when it’s over. She paused for a second, watching Sharon put on her headphones and knowing her texts wouldn’t get an answer until their next break.

Peggy pulled out her own laptop and reviewed her e-mails. She was, in point of fact, looking for a new job. While the Only Fans was a surprising source of a lot of income, she was missing the excitement of her old field. There still weren’t many jobs to go around, but she found new ones each day and applied. Talking to Sharon, however coded, made her miss the day to day of corporate espionage: finding new ways to secure and protect trade secrets, while simultaneously trying to extract others. It had been challenging and thrilling work, and she missed it. While there was something to be said for the ease of her newest endeavors, it wasn’t the challenge she wanted or needed.

She smiled over the edge of her laptop as Sharon asked a question about dogs. Seemed a parent was a trainer or a vet of some sort. She could just barely see the screen from where she was, the Brady Bunch like squares filled with smiling little faces as they talked and asked questions. Steve was sitting in his own square in the upper right corner, smiling away as he listened intently and there was a fairly neutral man in the bottom left she assumed was Mr. Clark. She’d heard a bit about the administrator, but not enough to have an opinion on the man.

She posted her resume on a job-hunting site and crossed her fingers yet again. Six months of getting dressed up for a camera was enough for her. She wanted more.

More from a job, and more from Steve.

They’d been talking nearly every night, facetiming, too, and had met just once, socially distanced, in the park in the fall for lunch. His mother, who lived in the apartment next to him and that he took care of, was considered high risk. He’d been apologetic, but careful about how and when he went out, and it was something she appreciated about him. She’d asked him, quite seriously, to be her steady significant other, but he’d flat out refused until he could take her out on a proper date. It was a conversation that had both made her fall a little more in love with him and completely frustrated her at the same time.

He was getting his second dose of the vaccine next week, and she was scheduled for a week after that. She already knew exactly which dress she was going to wear when that fourteen-day waiting period was up.

It was red and tight and screamed anything but staying socially distant.

She was daydreaming, one she had often, about pushing him back on that desk of his and straddling him, her dress riding up her thighs as his hands followed, kissing him and laying him down and taking him right there, when Sharon’s voice rang out loudly in the room.

“Ok. So, my Mom and Dad are at work, but I do school with my Aunt Peggy so I asked her the questions.” Peggy looked down at her watch. They had only ten minutes left in the morning session before lunch, but apparently that was enough for one more kid. Stupid Billy Ryan. Peggy closed her email and moved her laptop, listening. “So, my Aunt Peggy lost her job, which is why she can watch me, but before that she had a job she was really good at and she really liked. She worked for a company that I’m not allowed to tell you the name of, but for her job…”

Sharon took a deep breath and leaned into the screen. “For her job, she protects the recipe for KFC chicken.”

Peggy’s head fell in her hands as she heard the gasps of excitement from the kids. She couldn’t believe, after twenty minutes of questions, that was what the girl had understood.

“Sometimes, she protects the chickens. And sometimes, she tries to get the recipes from other places. She didn’t tell me exactly, but I think I guessed it and she just couldn’t say.”

~*~

Peggy laid back against the pillows, wine in hand, waiting for Steve to pick up his facetime. She’d just finished a short online session. Her heart hadn’t been in it, but she’d needed something to do while Steve was finishing his review with the principal after Sharon had been picked up.

His face popped on the screen and he wasted no time, slyly smiling. “So, you protect the KFC recipe?” She just shook her head, but he laughed. “I mean, I gave you a solid five minutes, you couldn’t come up with anything better?”

Peggy laughed loudly at that, leaning back into the pillows. “I swear, I did not tell that child I protected the KFC recipe.”

Steve lifted his phone and moved around his apartment, pulling a beer out of the fridge and sitting heavily on his couch before he set his phone on the table. “So, what did you tell her, exactly?”

“The truth!” Peggy sat up, pulling her robe tight around her. “I mean, how do you describe corporate espionage to an eight-year-old?”

“Corporate espionage?” Steve almost choked on his mouthful of beer. He sat up, eyes still wide with surprise. “You went from corporate espionage to an Only Fans?”

Peggy shrugged. “I wasn’t in IT. When everyone started working from home the demand was in IT because they had to lock down computer systems and access codes.” She sat up and took a long drink of her wine. “Quite frankly it was a move that was coming, anyway. More and more information is just digital.”

“So, uh,” Steve’s fingers played with the label on his bottle, “So you did what, exactly?”

Peggy bit her bottom lip and bent towards the camera. “If I tell you, I’ll have to kill you,” she purred out.

Steve feigned getting hit, grabbing his chest and falling back. “Ouch, Aunt Peggy.”

She hummed at him, humoring his silliness while she played with her glass. She sighed. “I think my favorite part was where she literally told the children I protect the chickens. As if I were a farmer out there with a pitch fork keeping coyotes away!”

Steve started laughing far harder than was necessary. “Oh, I am getting the best mental image.”

Peggy rolled her eyes and laid back in the bed. “Oh? Do tell.”

“I’m thinking…” He smiled, took a deep breath and leaned back, his eyes sparkling. Little Daisy Duke short shorts, maybe a tied up plaid shirt, some dirty cowboy boots…” Steve drifted off closing his eyes, his smile growing wider.

Peggy laughed. “Oh really? Should I put my hair in pigtails, too?”

His head popped up, a guilty look crossing his features. “Well, I mean…”

She bit her lip at his stammering. “Your image of me protecting chickens and my image of me protecting chickens are vastly different images.”

Steve could only shrug.

~*~

The link that she texted him wasn’t familiar, but he trusted her by now. He clicked it, ready for anything.

When the video connected his jaw dropped.

Peggy, in her shortest jean shorts and a tied up red gingham shirt he was sure was so small it must have been a handkerchief in a previous life, was standing in front of a green screened video of chickens in a chicken coop.

She smiled widely at him, putting on her best American accent. “Howdy, Partner!”

He laughed so hard he dropped his phone.

#Steggy #Steggy Fic #Modern AU #Steggy Bingo Bash #3P's Fic

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hysterialevi · 3 years

Text

Hjarta | Chapter 10

Fanfic summary: In an AU where Eivor was adopted by Randvi’s family instead, he ends up falling in love with the man his sister has been promised to despite the arranged marriage between their clans.

Point of view: third-person

Pairing: Sigurd Styrbjornson x Male Eivor

Author’s note: Sorry about the delay on this one guys! As I said before I wasn’t feeling that great these past few days because of the vaccine, but I’m doing much better now. Thanks for being patient.

This story is also on AO3 | Previous chapter | Next chapter

A WHILE LATER

THE TEMPLE

This was it. This was finally the day.

After what felt like an eternity of going back and forth with his emotions, Eivor would see Sigurd married to Randvi at last, and the alliance would be set in stone. Their two clans would be joined into one fearsome army, and they would stop Kjotve from ever roaming Norway’s seas again.

It was a wondrous day for everyone in the village, considering the nature of their agenda. Vibrant decorations had been placed on every surface imaginable in Bjornheimr, and lively laughter could be heard ringing throughout the air.

Ribbons and banners hung from the roofs, lanterns dangled from the trees, and all across the ground, Eivor saw nothing but fresh flower petals adorning the paths. Meanwhile, the sounds of drums and lyres harmonized with the whispers of Mother Earth, and not too far away from him, the young man could see people dancing with one another.

It was a sight that normally would’ve inspired happiness in Eivor’s heart, but for today, all he felt was loneliness.

Ever since he woke up, he hadn’t been able to shake off the shadow that loomed over him. The weight of Sigurd’s absence continued to linger on his shoulders, and it hindered his motivation to get involved with the festivities.

At the moment, he was currently sitting on a bench that rested just beside the temple and overlooked the wedding, giving him a clear view of its events. He saw clusters of familiar faces beckoning him to come join them, but no matter what, he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. And he knew exactly why.

Underneath the wedding arch, Eivor saw Sigurd and Randvi chatting with a group of people as they shared drinks with one another, getting a head-start to the wedding’s celebrations.

The prince was dressed in an ornate, white tunic paired with a crown of flowers that sat on his head, and his broad physique had been relieved of all the armor that he usually wore. He was smiling and laughing in the presence of the other guests, and on the surface, it looked like he was actually enjoying himself.

But underneath all the pretenses, Eivor could tell that the man was just as conflicted as he was. Every time he got a brief moment to himself, or was spared from the attention of scattered onlookers, his expression would drop, and a look of despondency would darken his eyes.

Sigurd seemed miserable, if Eivor was being honest. It was clear that he wasn’t willing to settle down with this marriage, but knew he had to for the sake of their clans’ safety... and it was ruining him.

Eivor just wished he could summon the courage to speak to him again. There were a thousand different things he wished to say to the man, but he had no idea how to word any of them.

How could he talk to Sigurd while acting as if nothing happened between the two of them? Or that they weren’t both upset about this wedding? How was it possible that they’d be able to keep up that kind of charade?

At this point, Eivor knew better than to believe he’d be able to conceal his true emotions. He had already seen how easy it was for Sigurd to crack open his shell, and he didn’t want to risk losing control of any more of his impulses. Especially not on a day such as this. Ingrida’s warnings had yet to take their leave from the Wolf-Kissed’s list of worries, and the last thing Eivor wanted was to be the reason they came true.

“Everyone!” Arngeir called out, breaking Eivor’s train of thought as the music came to a pause. “Everyone, gather around!”

The jarl was currently standing at the front of the wedding with Styrbjorn at his side, and held a tall tankard of mead in his grasp. He addressed the crowd before them while Sigurd lingered next to the archway, greeting his people with a radiant smile.

“My brothers!” Arngeir said proudly, “my sisters! Today is a day for celebration. The seas of this war have been relentless with chaos, and we have endured a great deal to stand where we are now. I know many of you have sacrificed your heart and soul in the name of survival. You have fought, you have bled, and you have known pain unlike any other. But no more. Today,” he placed a hand on Styrbjorn’s shoulder, “the Bear and Raven clans will become one, and we will finally have what it takes to deliver Kjotve into the jaws of Nidhoggr himself!”

A unanimous cheer erupted from the villagers.

“So, drink!” Arngeir exclaimed over their voices. “Drink and feast to your hearts’ content! Let your spirits sing with joy as we celebrate this marriage, and let the gods hear our thundering war cries when the time for battle comes! May Freya bless this new couple with her loving embrace, and may Tyr guide us into victory. Or to Valhalla.” He raised his tankard in the air. “Skål, my drengir!”

The guests returned the toast. “Skål!”

A series of merry cries rose from the crowd as they happily downed their drinks in unison, eager to get the mead flowing. The music of the festival quickly resumed its lively beat, and chirps of laughter returned to the air.

As for Eivor, the man remained seated by the temple and simply watched the festivities unfold, wishing more than anything that he could talk to Sigurd again. He knew the prince would likely welcome him with open arms despite the tension between them, but even then, there was just something holding him back.

He didn’t have the strength to approach Sigurd now that the man was officially married. Despite all his efforts to ignore it, Eivor did feel a spark of jealousy flickering in his heart whenever he laid eyes on Randvi, and he hated himself for it.

Randvi didn’t deserve any animosity. She was simply doing what she was told, just like Sigurd. Still, part of Eivor secretly wished he could be in her position. He wished he could openly display his affection for the prince, and not constantly feel the need to hide it.

But alas, there was no longer any grey area about the matter. Sigurd and Randvi had officially been bound by this alliance, and Eivor would have to stay away from him, no matter how alluring the thought might’ve been. They wouldn’t be able to repeat what they did last night, and to go against this marriage would’ve been a betrayal.

“Eivor?” A stray voice blurted out, causing the Wolf-Kissed to glance over his shoulder. He hadn’t expected anyone else to be up here, and yet, he found himself gazing back at the one man who could’ve potentially eased his pain.

Ulfar.

“What are you doing here, little cub?” The old raider asked, pushing through the snow. “I assumed you’d be enjoying the festivities by now.”

Eivor turned back around and rested his elbows on his knees, staring blankly at the ground.

“I’m not in the mood.”

Ulfar cocked a brow at the response. “Not in the mood for a drink? That doesn’t sound like you.” A soft chuckle escaped his lips. “Must be something bad.”

He took a seat next to Eivor, allowing himself to rest for a moment.

“...Care to share your thoughts?”

The young man paused, throwing Ulfar’s inquisitive nature right back at him. “Before I do -- what are you doing up here? I’m surprised you’re not at my father’s side. He usually keeps you close.”

“Indeed, but today’s not exactly a usual day, is it? Eirik and I are patrolling the village at your father’s behest. He wants us to make sure the people are safe whilst they celebrate the wedding.”

Eivor glanced at the view in front of them. “See anything yet?”

“Nothing urgent so far. Eirik spotted a longship on the horizon earlier, but it’s impossible to see which clan it belongs to from here. He’s keeping an eye on it as we speak.” The warrior tilted his head at the other man. “And what about you? What brings you to the temple on a day like this?”

Eivor hesitated. “I... I don’t know if I should say.”

A tone of genuine concern took hold of Ulfar’s voice. “Is it truly that bad?”

“Yes. I’m afraid so.”

The raider leaned forward in his seat, looking the young man in the eye. “Eivor. Speak plainly to me. What’s going on?”

The Wolf-Kissed turned away from Ulfar, pondering whether or not to tell him. He trusted the man to keep this conversation between them -- he had never known him to be a snitch -- but even then, part of him feared how Ulfar would react.

Eivor was aware of the warrior’s doubts towards Sigurd after all, and the last thing he wanted was to tarnish the prince’s reputation even further. This alliance was as fresh as a newborn babe, and the young man wondered if it would’ve been foolish to expose his secrets so soon.

Still, Eivor knew he couldn’t keep it in for much longer. The stress that came with suppressing his emotions was quickly taking its toll, and he needed to let it out somehow.

“Ulfar...” the young man said, “I’ll tell you what’s going on because I trust you, but this must stay between us. I mean it. No one else can hear about this. Alright?”

The older man’s brow was crinkled with confusion, but he complied nonetheless. “...Alright, Eivor. I understand. Now, what’s the matter?”

Eivor took a deep breath. “...Do you remember the conversation we had at the feast? When the Raven Clan first arrived?”

Ulfar chuckled. “No, not really. I’m an old man now, Eivor. My memory isn’t what it once was.”

Eivor returned the laugh. “You were telling me about Geirmund’s fortress. And how you met Linnea.”

The raider’s expression lit up with remembrance. “...Ah, yes.”

“You also asked me if I had found anyone significant in my life,” he continued. “I told you no.”

“And?”

Eivor knotted his hands together in nervousness. “Well... that’s changed recently.”

“Has it? Then why do you seem so upset? That’s a good thing, Eivor.”

“You wouldn’t say that if you knew who it was.”

Ulfar shrugged. “Well then, who is it?”

The Wolf-Kissed gazed down at the wedding. “...The man who just got married today.”

The old warrior followed his line of sight, instantly falling into silence once he realized whom Eivor was referring to.

“...You mean Sigurd?” Ulfar clarified, unable to hide the dread that was rising in his chest. “Oh, Eivor...”

“I know.” The younger man said. “I know it’s bad. I’ve told myself I shouldn’t feel this way over and over again, but no matter what I do, these thoughts just won’t go away. Sigurd and I tried to keep things platonic in the beginning, but over time, we just... couldn’t help it anymore.”

Ulfar let out a troubled sigh. “...And what about Randvi? Does she know about this?”

“No, I don’t think so. You’re the only one so far.”

That seemed to bring some relief to the raider. “Good. You’d do best to keep it that way. There’s no telling how others would react, especially the king.”

Eivor pressed a finger on his temple. “What should I do though, Ulfar? Out of honor, I can’t approach Sigurd now that he’s officially been wed. To entice him would be wrong. But I also can’t ignore how I feel.”

Ulfar’s gaze fell to the ground. “...I wish I had an easy answer for you, little cub. But the truth is, nothing about this will be easy. You have a special connection with Sigurd, and it isn’t going to disappear just because of this alliance.”

The young man grew despondent. “I only wish there was some way to forget about all this. Perhaps then, my mind would finally let me rest.”

The warrior shot a glance at his friend. “Eivor, are you listening to me?”

Eivor paused, urging Ulfar to continue his train of thought.

“You can’t make these feelings go away.” He reiterated. “You’re trying to fight a battle that’s already been lost. The best thing you can do right now is talk to Sigurd. Straighten things out with him. Clean up this mess before it becomes worse. It may not bring the outcome you want, but it will bring the closure you need. Trust me.”

Eivor peered in the prince’s direction, reluctant to accept reality. He knew there was truth to Ulfar’s words, but a part of him still wished for another solution. A solution that didn’t involve discarding his relationship with Sigurd.

“...Perhaps you’re right.” He conceded in a downcast manner.

The raider’s voice softened with sympathy. “I’m sorry, Eivor. This must be difficult for you. But it isn’t your fault.”

That piqued Eivor’s curiosity. “You don’t think so?”

“No, of course not. We do not choose who we love. The Nornir determine that for us. Unfortunately though, our plans do not always match what the gods have in mind. I only wish you didn’t have to be the one dealing with this dilemma.”

“...So do I.”

Ulfar switched to a more encouraging tone, hoping to lift the young man’s spirits. “Hey, there’s no need to sulk. Remember what Ingrida always says. Any attempt to deviate from the path will be met with what was destined to be. Your time will come. Just not today.”

Eivor displayed a faint smile in response to his words. “Thank you, Ulfar. I--”

“--Ulfar...!”

Interrupting their conversation, a third voice suddenly jumped into the scene, causing the two men to glance towards the source. The voice was sharpened with a deep rasp that sat on its edge, and it seemed to scrape against the throat of its owner. It didn’t have much force standing behind it, but even then, Eivor could still hear the desperation behind its words.

“Yes?” Ulfar replied at the sound of his name. “What is it--?”

He came to a halt, taking a moment to process the peculiar sight approaching him.

Not too far away from them, Ulfar and Eivor saw Eirik limping towards the temple, practically dragging his feet through the snow. His labored breathing trudged along to the rhythm of his heavy footsteps, and his movements were sluggish with exhaustion. The main detail that caught Ulfar’s attention though, was the fresh trail of blood dotting the ground in his wake.

“Eirik!” The raider exclaimed in alarm, immediately rushing over to him. He supported the man’s weight in his arms, lifting him up as he spoke.

“Hey,” he called out, trying to get his attention. “Hey! Can you hear me? What happened to you?”

Eirik weakly gripped onto one of Ulfar’s arms, staring him in the eye. “...K-Kjotve. He’s... here. You must--” a numbing pain racked his body, coaxing a groan out of him.

“We must what?” Ulfar asked. But Eirik had already moved on.

“...please,” the injured man whispered, “keep my mother safe. Tell her... it isn’t...”

He fell limp in the old warrior’s embrace, passing onto the next realm with his final words trapped in his throat. His body keeled forward as his spirit departed from its shell, and upon greeting death, Eirik tumbled into the snow, revealing a number of arrows protruding from his back.

Before Ulfar had any time to mourn though, the rallying cry of a horn suddenly blared in the distance, calling for Bjornheimr’s warriors as Kjotve’s men emerged from the shadows.

The sounds of battle quickly rose throughout the village, and down at the wedding, Eivor could see Sigurd rushing to defend their people, storming around with a sword in his hand.

“Shit!” Ulfar cursed, rising from the ground. He whipped his axe out of its sheathe and placed a protective hand over Eivor’s chest, urging him to take shelter.

“Eivor, gather any survivors you can find and take them to the longhouse! I’ll join the other warriors and protect the wedding.”

“Wait!” The young man protested, grabbing Ulfar’s wrist just before he could leave.

The raider glared at him with a bewildered look in his eye. “What is it?”

“...Let me defend the wedding. I’ll go in your stead.”

Ulfar clearly wasn’t on board with the idea. “What? This is no time to be arguing! You need to go, Eivor. Now!”

“Please,” he insisted. “I need to make sure Sigurd’s safe. He’s down there with the rest of my family. Let me do it. I’ll do whatever it takes to get them out of there alive. You know I will.”

The older man quickly shifted his mind, not willing to waste another second.

“...Fine,” he said in a hasty tone. “Do what you must, but do it carefully. I don’t want you following Eirik’s footsteps today. And don’t forget about the alliance, Eivor. I know how you feel about Sigurd, but we cannot lose him for the sake of this war either. Do you understand?”

Eivor gave him a firm nod. “I understand.”

“Good. Then may the Defender of Midgard guide our hand today, and may we pummel Kjotve’s skull with an axe at last.”

“Odin watch over you, Ulfar.”

The raider parted ways with the young man. “Odin watch over us all.”

~~~~~~~~~~

A FEW MINUTES LATER

THE WEDDING

Sprinting towards the ruined festival, Eivor fought his way through clumps of Kjotve’s warriors as they stormed the village and set fire to the buildings, staining the sky red with their morbid flames. Vivid sparks could be seen erupting from black pillars of smoke, and in the distance, the young warrior saw nothing but clouds of ash obscuring the path.

It looked like Ragnarök itself had been unleashed on Bjornheimr. Shrieks of panic filled the air like an orchestra gone mad, and just sitting on the horizon, Eivor spotted the striking silhouettes of Kjotve’s ships latching onto their docks.

It was a view the young man had been dreading for the past decade of his life. The memory of his parents’ deaths remained fresh in his head, and terror paralyzed his heart at the idea of losing a loved one again.

...But no. He couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t. Ulfar was depending on him to protect everyone at the wedding, and that was exactly what he’d do. Even if it meant sacrificing himself. He wouldn’t simply stand by and watch people die like before. This time, he would defend them.

Heaving his axe with a ferocious amount of effort, Eivor let out a rough shout as he lodged the sturdy blade into the neck of a raider, cutting them down within a heartbeat.

By now, it looked like Kjotve’s men had taken control of the wedding and gathered a handful of captives, lining them up as if they were livestock for sale. They had bound them with numerous bundles of rope and shoved them down to their knees, forcing them to watch their attackers from below.

What concerned Eivor the most though, was that the raiders were no longer alone.

Towering over the rest of the scene like a lion searching for its prey, the Wolf-Kissed spotted the very same man who slew his parents all those winters ago, now staring down at the prince he loved. His face had been folded with wrinkles due to years of waging countless wars, but the rest of his stature remained as intimidating as ever.

Eivor felt like a scared little boy again just by looking at him. Kjotve’s mere presence was more than enough to bring back a flood of unwanted nightmares, and the young man suddenly found himself questioning whether or not he was fit for this task. He still heard his mother’s desperate cries thundering in his head as if she were there, and the haunting view of his father’s lifeless gaze had been branded into the back of his eyelids.

“Do not abandon him or his memory,” Eivor thought to himself, repeating Ulfar’s words from when he was just a boy. “You wish to reclaim the honor your father lost? Then you must fight for it.”

A sprout of fury flared up in his chest at the profound memory, and he shouted across the battlefield at Kjotve himself, speaking with a level of rage he had never experienced before.

“Kjotve!” Eivor roared, leading the man to come to a halt.

The gargantuan raider turned around to see who was calling his name and peered through the smoke, narrowing his eyes as he tried to identify their face.

Emerging from the sea of fire, Kjotve saw nothing but a lone warrior prowling towards him with a strangely familiar axe in his grip, sauntering across the blood-stained dirt. Gusts of wind distorted the ash blanketing the battlefield around him, and behind strands of golden hair, Kjotve spotted a pair of arctic orbs glaring back at him, wide-open with wrath.

Before he could address the warrior though, his son stepped forward first.

“What do you want, bacraut?” Gorm barked, pointing a finger at them. “A blade to the gullet, perhaps?”

Kjotve held out an arm. “Hold, Gorm. Don’t bare your fangs just yet. There’s something... different about this one.”

The man scoffed. “Different? He looks just like every other ‘warrior’ in this village to me. Weak and cowardly.”

“...Perhaps,” Kjotve said, glancing down, “but that axe...” He approached the stranger. “You there! Where did you find that weapon? Who are you?”

The blonde viking stopped in his tracks, keeping his gaze nailed onto the other man as the entire wedding froze to see what was going on.

“My name is Eivor.” He announced, his voice resembling the hiss of a serpent. “...You know me.”

Kjotve grinned immediately upon hearing the name and strolled towards his opponent, meeting him in the middle.

“...Eivor? The son of Varin and Rosta? Heh. My, my. You were just a little boy the last time we met, Wolf-Kissed. I must say, I’m surprised to see you drawing breath even after all these years. You’ve certainly grown a lot since then. But alas... you are still no more than a child chasing after his father’s honor. It seems you’ll never learn.”

Eivor clenched his hand around the grip, doing his best to keep his anger at bay.

“...I have no interest in your taunts, Kjotve. I’ve only come for my family. Let them go.”

The older man laughed and planted his battle axe in the ground, resting an elbow on its hilt. “And tell me, Eivor -- why exactly would I do that?”

The young warrior raised his own weapon, looking at the line of captives sitting behind Kjotve. “I may have been defenseless during our first encounter, but don’t think I’ll cower away from you now. I will take my family back, with or without shedding your blood.”

Sigurd’s head perked up at the response, and he struggled in his restraints. “Eivor...! Don’t!”

Kjotve noticed the prince’s reaction, allowing him to think of a different approach. He doubted there would be much difficulty in slaying the Wolf-Kissed one-on-one, but he wanted to indulge in another method.

“Hmm,” he said in thought, “you wish to rescue these fools from their fate? Perhaps... there is a way we could arrange that.”

Gorm snapped his head in Kjotve’s direction. “Father!”

“Silence, boy.” He commanded. “These are my slaves. Not yours. I will bargain with them as I please.”

Kjotve shifted his focus back to Eivor, presenting his idea. “Listen to me carefully, son of Varin. I am willing to offer your people a way out of this, but only one. It’s your choice whether you take it or leave it.”

Eivor grew impatient. “Just say what you have to say and be done with it.”

The slaver smirked maliciously. “As you wish.”

Kjotve tugged his weapon out of the ground and rested the blade on his shoulder, preparing it for battle. “...Lay down your axe. Surrender yourself to me, and I will let everyone else go, including your beloved prince here.”

Eivor fell silent at the demand and clenched his jaw in spite, almost having to stop himself from laughing at the absurdity of the request.

“You expect me to believe you?” He nearly growled. “After you spewed the same lies to my father, and broke your oath to him? No. I won’t do it.”

Kjotve lifted a brow. “Are you certain, Wolf-Kissed? You could be right, of course... but are you willing to bet your family’s lives on it?”

The young warrior’s expression twisted into a glower. “...You are a rat, Kjotve. A dishonorable wretch that will forever serve as a sheathe to Nidhoggr’s fangs...!”

The raider merely chuckled at the response, undeniably amused by his enemy’s distress.

“Well, if you prefer, I could always erase your doubt and simply kill them all right now.” Kjotve positioned his blade under Sigurd’s chin. “Starting with him.”

Eivor felt the urge to leap forward then and there, but held himself back.

“Don’t... touch him.” He whispered, almost sounding feral. The slaver smiled back at him.

“You know what you have to do to stop me.”

The Wolf-Kissed gritted his teeth in rage and strengthened his hold on the axe, practically crushing it in his grip as his knuckles turned white.

He couldn’t believe it. After thirteen years of planning for revenge and fending off the grief that came with his loss, he was now being forced into the exact same position as his father, and being humiliated like a thrall. Everyone’s lives depended on the sacrifice of his honor, but to comply would’ve meant giving up everything he had fought for.

What would happen to Eivor if he accepted the deal? What would Kjotve do with him? Would he truly keep his word and set the captives free? Or would he simply cut the young warrior’s throat, and demolish the rest of the village once he was dead?

Eivor didn’t know what to do anymore. He couldn’t bear the idea of watching anything happen to Sigurd or his family, but he also despised the thought of failing to avenge his previous one.

Kjotve was the one who took everything from him. He destroyed his home, his childhood, and his life. To spare him now would’ve been an even greater shame than the one his father suffered.

But still... he loved Arngeir. He loved his sisters. And most of all, he was starting to fall in love with Sigurd. He had gotten so used to a world with the prince’s influence, that to see him drop out of it now would’ve devastated him.

He couldn’t allow him to die. He couldn’t disappoint Ulfar, and he couldn’t let the alliance crumble. Sigurd’s life carried far more value than his, and at this point, Eivor was willing to do anything to preserve it.

So, without saying another word, the young man reluctantly bent down towards the ground and gazed at Sigurd with an apologetic look, gently placing the axe right by his feet.

“No!” The prince exclaimed, his eyes widened with panic. “What are you doing? Pick up your axe, Eivor! Remember what this snake did to your father! Don’t let him corner you into his trap--!”

“--Quiet, you!” Gorm commanded, striking Sigurd over the head.

Meanwhile, Kjotve ignored his prisoner’s cries and grinned in satisfaction, focusing entirely on the man in front of him.

“It seems you were correct, Gorm,” he remarked. “He is the same as everyone else. Weak... and cowardly. Just like his father. I should’ve guessed.”

Eivor’s glare only sharpened. “I did what you asked, Kjotve. Now, do your part and set them free!”

Kjotve shook his head in a patronizing manner, laughing shamelessly at the unarmed viking. A sheen of deceit plastered itself onto his barbaric smile, and simply by looking at him, the young man knew he had been fooled.

“Did you really think it’d be any different this time? I almost pity you, Wolf-Kissed. You’re an even bigger fool than Varin was. I suppose you’ll be joining him and your mother in Helheim, then. Send them my regards.” He turned to his son, bellowing a new list of orders at him. “Gorm! Take the strongest ones back to the ship alive. We can make use of them. As for the rest -- kill them all. We’ll leave their corpses for the ravens to feed.”

Gorm began strolling towards the prisoners. “With pleasure.”

“Wait!” Eivor shouted. But it was too late.

Within the blink of an eye, the man had already unsheathed his blade and pulled Randvi’s head back by the hair, preparing to slit her throat. Just before he could carry out Kjotve’s commands though, a lone arrow suddenly bolted through the air and planted itself into his shoulder, sending him reeling to the ground.

He flailed around for a moment and flicked his eyes around in shock, only to see the archer face-to-face once the chaos finally settled.

It was Ulfar.

“Cut them down!” The raider yelled, his voice thundering across the village.

Charging out from the smoke, Eivor saw a small army of men storming the wedding as Kjotve’s people froze in bewilderment, giving their clan the exact opening they needed to shift the balance of this fight.

The warriors immediately seized the battlefield and overwhelmed it like a fire feeding on kindling, driving their weapons through the hearts of their enemies. They hunted them down like animals running through a field, and showered the invading raiders with a hurricane of arrows.

As for Kjotve himself, the man fled to his longship with as many prisoners as possible and nearly dragged Gorm onto the boat, signaling his men to leave Bjornheimr. It was evident to him that he was now on the losing side of this fight, but even then, he still managed to take a group of captives that he was no doubt going to sell -- including Thora.

Ulfar, on the other hand, was busy freeing what prisoners remained. He had already released Randvi from her binds and was now carving his way through Sigurd’s rope, setting the prince free.

“Are you hurt?” The older man asked, helping Sigurd up to his feet.

“I’m fine, I’m fine!” He blurted out, eager to contribute to the battle. But Ulfar wasn’t ready to let him go just yet.

“Where’s Eivor?” He questioned. “I was able to see Kjotve and Gorm, but I couldn’t find the boy from where I stood.”

Sigurd gestured in the opposite direction. “He’s over there. He’s--” The man came to an abrupt pause, leading Ulfar to follow his line of sight.

“What is it?” The raider said, but it didn’t take him long to realize.

Kneeling in the dirt, Ulfar found Eivor sitting somberly amongst all the pandemonium, seemingly unfazed by the death and destruction surrounding him. His eyes were locked onto the axe lying beside his legs, and just by observing the boy, the old warrior could tell that he was trapped in another battle of his own.

Eivor just let his parents’ murderer escape for a second time. After thirteen years of waiting for him. He had been tricked by the same deal his father fell prey to, and now, there was nothing but humiliation weighing him down.

He felt like a complete failure. His honor had been stolen from him once again, and now all of Bjornheimr was going to know it. They would see him as a coward for deciding to drop his weapon, and Kjotve’s forces would only grow stronger because of it.

But the part that stood out the most to Ulfar, was the fact that he did it all for Sigurd. Eivor had only known the man for about two weeks, and yet, he was willing to give up Valhalla itself in exchange for his survival. He knew the possibility of Kjotve going back on his word was likely, and even then, he still decided to take the risk.

Just how much did this man mean to him, exactly? Ulfar was aware of Eivor’s feelings for Sigurd, but he never expected the two of them to share such an adamantine bond. He could see now that the young man was truly in love with the prince... and it frightened him to the core.

This would not bode well for the marriage. Eivor could try to conceal his emotions as much as he wanted, but Ulfar already knew it would be for naught. It was impossible to ignore a love as strong as this, and he could only pray that the alliance wouldn’t fall apart so long as Eivor’s affections remained alive.

He supposed the best thing he could do now was guide the young man. Ulfar didn’t plan on telling anyone about his secret, but he also knew it’d be foolish to let his feelings roam free.

Kjotve was still out there. His army was still growing. And now, he had Thora as a slave.

If the people of Bjornheimr wanted to rescue her from his grasp, they would need the help of Styrbjorn’s entire clan to assault the slaver’s fortress. It would require every single warrior they had under their command, and Ulfar didn’t intend on letting Eivor’s hidden relationship put Thora’s safety in jeopardy.

He just hoped he wouldn’t hurt the boy by doing so. It was clear to him how much the Wolf-Kissed cared about Sigurd, so the last thing he wanted was to push the two of them apart.

But Arngeir needed Ulfar to maintain a clear mind. He needed his pragmatism. He needed his rationality. That was the whole reason he had kept Ulfar at his side for almost two decades now.

As much as it pained the old man, he would have to approach this objectively. He would have to keep Eivor away from Sigurd’s company, and ensure that the alliance remained strong.

Otherwise, he had no idea how the future would unfold. If anyone learned about their secret affair, Ulfar assumed that all hell would break loose. The friendship between their clans would instantly shatter, and the fires of a second war would likely ignite.

It was a dilemma that Ulfar wouldn’t wish on anyone in a paternal position, but alas, it was the one the gods had granted him. So, with a quick shift of the mind, the warrior brought his attention back to the battle at hand and left Eivor alone, allowing him to regather his thoughts.

He assumed the boy would be in a state of distress after the day’s events, and he didn’t want to be the reason he finally tipped over the edge.

Ulfar had enough to worry about at the moment, and he imagined it was just the beginning.

#hjarta #assassin's creed valhalla #ac valhalla #sigurd styrbjornson #eivor wolfkissed #eivor wolfsmal #eivor varinsson #male eivor #sigurd x male eivor #ac valhalla fanfic

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pretoriafics · 4 years

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Adopting Derek (in a dog body)

Okay, I'm so inspired today! I really needed to write about this idea. What if Derek was turned yourself into a dog, and the reader adopts him?

It's funny, it's cute, and this headcanon is so long! I'm sorry about that. Maybe I should do an entire imagine series about this idea? I don't know, tell me what do you think, pleeease.

Remember: My requests are open. Remember²: English is not my main language, so I'm sorry if my writing maybe sounds bad for you.

Let's read, then?

Word Count: 1.682 Warnings: None Portuguese version here

Hale and the pack were working on a case involving a powerful sect of witches. The pack managed to invade the sect's headquarters, but to everyone's panic, one of them cursed Derek, turning him into a dog.

In the confusion of the fight, he ended up getting lost. He was walking along the road in the city, looking for a way to find the rest of the pack when you found him.

You were the daughter of one of Alan's best friends from the college. He was almost like an uncle to you.

You immediately stopped the car when you saw the dog. It was large, with dark fur, and its foot was injured. Derek had been hurt during the fight, and it appeared that his body was not healing as fast as it should have.

“Aww, are you lost? Come on, I will take care of you."

Well, what else could he do? Since his body was not healing as it should, he had no choice but to go with you.

But if you kept talking to him in that childish voice, which we do when we talk to babies, he would freak out.

You took him home and took care of the injured paw. You set aside a pot of water and a pot of dog food, which you had earned a little bit from Alan.

Ah, what a slow death! Derek refused to eat that thing.

You were worried when you realized he was not eating. As there was nothing else at home, you ended up exchanging the dog food for a piece of steak.

Okay, now we're talking about real food!

"Which name should I give you??" You drummed your fingers on your chin, thoughtfully.

Lucky! It was the perfect name because he had been so lucky to find you, or that little paw injury could have become worst.

You could hear your newest pet snort. Derek was clearly not liking that, despite being grateful for the healing you did on his paw.

You continued to take care of him. You saw your favorite Netflix series with him, took him for a walk...

He always growled when other dogs came over to smell... well... his parts.

“Lucky, don't be so rude. They are your little friends, to play with you! ”

And all Derek could think of during those hours was a “For God's sake. "

He met your boyfriend, and he thought he was a complete idiot.

And okay, Derek was starting to think you weren't that bad. But you still needed to change about talking to him in a childish voice. Still, he needed to find a way to find the pack.

And then, at the first opportunity, he ran away.

You freaked out! Your first action was to call Alan, crying, saying that your best friend had run away from you. He suggested that you split up in the city to look for him, and so it was.

But the moment he opened the clinic door there was Lucky, or rather, Derek. He flew into the clinic and started tapping his paws on the computer keyboard.

All he managed to write was "PSkPSKminpwrnIDEndneUNklew".

That was definitely not what he wanted to write. However, knowing that Derek had been turned into a dog and was missing, Alan got the message.

It wasn't long before the whole pack was at the clinic. It wasn't long before you knocked on the clinic door, so upset that your pet ran away.

But when you saw him at the clinic, you were so relieved! Your first action was to hug him, and fill him with kisses.

He lowered his ears, letting out a low whine. Seeing you so worried ended up making him feel a little guilty.

“Oh my God, I was so worried, baby! Never do that again! ”

Damn, you called him "baby". And in front of everyone.

Stiles was the first to scoff.

"Yeah, baby, don't do this anymore!"

Now, one more person was involved in all that mess: You. Everyone felt they were walking on eggshells. You didn't even know that there was a supernatural world around you. The only thing you wanted was your pet back.

The care about you needed to be double, as a way to protect you against all that mess.

Alan came over to your house to talk about Lucky.

“You need to leave him at the clinic with me, he was on the street. He may have an illness. ”

You refused to be without your friend.

“We are going to do some check-ups and apply the vaccines, but he stays here with me. "

This was going to be more difficult than everyone imagined, but as they started looking for some answer to get Derek back to his original form, things started to get fun.

You did an entire Instagram just for Lucky and bought him several outfits.

You took him for a photo shoot!! And published all the photos on Instagram.

Lucky dressed as a Disney prince.

Lucky dressed as a guard.

Lucky dressed as Superman!

He wasn't happy at all in those pictures, but you loved them so much because they were so cute!!

Scott saved each of the photos.

Peter framed them all. They would render great jokes!

Derek, on the other hand, just wanted to die of shame. He didn't want to imagine the number of stupid jokes that everyone would have to put up with.

But despite all that, he even liked you. Except when you talked to him in a childish voice. He hated you in those hours.

You talked about everything with him. When you got home, you always told him how your day had been. Derek was always there to hear you.

When you were on a bad day, he gave in: he took a ball with his mouth and made you go in the yard to play with him. It always made your day better.

And then you started to distrust your boyfriend. He was distant and rude, and sometimes you caught yourself talking with Lucky about it.

“Did I do something wrong? "

You and your boyfriend fought one day. Derek watched all the arguing, of course. He never wanted to punch someone as much as he did that day.

You cried all night, Lucky with you.

And when you decided you were going to work things out with your boyfriend, Derek just shook his head briefly, disappointed. You deserved better, but you couldn't see it yet.

You have bought several models of lingerie.

“I need help to see which one looks better on me. "

Ok... He was seriously divided now. Obviously, he wanted to see you try them all! But at the same time, he felt that staying and just seeing you trying different styles of lingerie would be wrong. You didn't know that he was a real man.

He concluded that staying and simply watching you try on all those lingerie would be taking advantage of you. So he chose to be on the sofa in the living room, away from your bedroom.

However, his imagination was quite fertile that night.

Despite your best efforts, your boyfriend simply remained distant. You found out that he was cheating on you.

The fight at your house that night was unreal.

And right in that bad time, the pack finds a way to break the curse. Derek was relieved to stop being Lucky, but he also felt his heart crush in his chest at having to leave you.

At least, all of that was fun.

Alan had taken your pet to the clinic, for a check-up and to give all the vaccines. At least, it was what you thought he was going to do.

In fact, Alan took Derek straight to the pack. They would bring their original body back, finally!

But then Scott brought the news that one of the witches sect, who had fled during the attack, had captured you for a sacrifice.

Fortunately, Derek managed to get back to his real body in time to rescue you with the help of the pack.

Your head almost exploded when you saw that man, with all of that size, with a red collar and a bone-shaped pendant written "Lucky".

Oh, damn... He had so hurried, that he forgot to take it off.

The pack gave the time you needed to recover from the scare, but your head was bubbling with it all. After all, what had really happened?

Alan and Derek met with you and the pack. That's how you knew that, yeah, Derek was really your Lucky.

“Oh my God, I tried to make you eat dog food! I gave you cookies, a bath, and an anti-flea powder!! ”

Things were finally clear, and you were embarrassed. On the other hand, the pack was grateful for the bank of jokes you offered them.

And you ended up being part of them. You and Derek were together all the time. After all, not having you around ended up being weird to him.

Returning to his original body made him tell you everything he always wanted to say...

"Your ex-boyfriend is an idiot."

"You should go back to using that perfume."

"That friend of yours from work has great advice."

"You should use red more often. You look great with this color."

... and also everything he always wanted to do with you.

He picked you up from work to go get the ice cream he knew you loved so much.

He hug you all the time.

Derek even answered your door when your ex-boyfriend came to apologize to you. And let's say your ex ended up scared...

He gave you a new pet. It was a cat, which you called Nora.

And finally, he took you on a first date. It had been a while since he made you feel butterflies in your stomach.

You were willing to take a chance. After all, he was still your best friend. What harm would it do if your relationship evolved?

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