#hopefully he’ll bring it as as a spare again for me to have tomorrow and maybe I can ask if I can keep it at least for the summer. Maybe

[somniomancer]

sighs softly as I actually wish I can keep M’s silly straw hat, at least for temporary

[crescentsteel]

Keeping a Secret - Part 5

pairing: Tsukishima x f!manager of Sendai Frogs genre: sexual tension/crack/fluff/slow burn wc: 6.8k

[a/n]

Let me know if you want to be part of the taglist uwu

AO3

Part 4 || Part 6 || masterlist

“Your lips aren’t disgusting,” Tsukishima says quietly, but loud enough to reach your ears. You did hear him the first time though. You just didn’t understand what he meant so you brushed it off as garbled words induced by your sleep-deprived brain. 

You didn’t expect him to contradict the subtle insult you unconsciously threw at yourself. From his reaction to your suggestion a while ago, you’d think he’d be glad that you instantly discarded it instead of pushing it further. 

You pull back just enough to see his somber expression meeting your baffled one.

“I thought you didn’t want to do it again,” you mutter softly even though the kiss snapped you out of your drowsiness.

“I changed my mind,” he simply says.  

“Uhhh. Care to elaborate?” you ask, still confused as to what his change of mind entails. Does he now agree to your earlier proposal? Or is he just saying that he doesn’t mind kissing you again? 

...Wait, isn’t that the same?

Okay, so apparently your mind is still fuzzy and not digesting the situation clearly. His closeness isn’t helping either. 

Maybe you’re actually still asleep and you’re having sleep paralysis on their sofa. In just a matter of seconds, Tsukishima’s face will turn demon-like and scream at how moronic you are for dreaming about this.

“You’re allowed to kiss me when it’s just the two of us,” the boy sitting in front of you announces.

Tsukishima tries not to look away so you wouldn’t think he feels awkward agreeing to your suggestion the same way you offered it. You look way better and more alert after he kissed you so he’s expecting you to say something sassy to get back at his brutal words. 

Instead, you wrap a hand around your throat. Before he can even process what you’re doing, your hand is already joined by the other. 

“What are you doing?” he asks both confused and worried as your hands tighten on your neck, but you don’t answer. He only confirms that you’re indeed choking yourself when you start gasping for air. 

“What the fuck!” He hurriedly yanks your hands away from your throat, gripping each wrist and pulling them away from one another. 

You inhale sharply from the absence of your hands blocking your windpipe.

It didn’t work. You’re still in sleep paralysis and with absolutely no idea how to get out.

You close your eyes and dejectedly lean on his chest. “I’m too tired to tell if this is real or a poorly conjured dream. Demon, begone,” you mumble while feebly knocking your head against him.

“Tsukishima will think I’m an idiot,” you add.

He usually doesn’t care about the aftermath of his words. The more they get under a person’s skin, the more it amuses him. But you seem to have really taken his words to heart this time, and he hates the fact that he’s bothered by it. He’d rather be annoyed by you than plagued with guilt.

He admits he was being a complete dick earlier, but he didn’t expect it would get to you like this, to the point that you’d even think you’re dreaming.

He sighs, accepting that he needs to deal with the consequences of his sharp tongue. “You’re not an idiot, y/n,” he softly says. You lift your gaze and look at him like he’s grown two heads. “So stop acting like one already,” he spurs on, unable to help himself as his true nature immediately returns.

You detach yourself from him as life returns back to your eyes. “Okay, I’m not dreaming. You’re definitely Tsukishima.” You shake your hands, probably to shake off the lethargy from your nap, then slap both your cheeks with your palms. 

You steady yourself as you face him again. You verify the vague exchanges you two had with one question. “I take it we have a deal then?” 

He holds your resolute stare, trying to come up with some set of rules but weariness is already hitting his cognitive capabilities. However, there is one that’s extremely necessary for the both of you to follow. 

“No one should know about this.”

You scoff at his answer. “No one  will  know about this,” you repeat his words with a more convincing variation. So despite the insane premise of the arrangement and its lack of detail, he agrees.

“Deal.”

--

Tsukishima heads straight to the kitchen as soon as he gets home. In spite of the audacious agreement you now have, neither of you felt awkward when he walked you to the main road to see you off. Once again, you were right. Accepting that he is also attracted to you somehow cleared his head. He still doesn’t like it, but it’s better than constantly being irritated at the strange pull you have on him. 

Since you’ve proven yourself to always be right, he’ll give this a go. It’ll only be until the end of the project anyways, which won’t be long from now considering the timetable you laid out. 

As he gets a pitcher of water, he sees Akiteru approaching the kitchen as well. He moves away from the fridge to make way in case his brother is going to get something from it. But Akiteru passes him by and leans on the counter next to him instead. 

He pours himself a glass while growing prickly of Akiteru’s not-so-subtle staring.

“If you’re going to say something, just say it,” he snaps. 

Akiteru laughs lightly at his displeasure. “She’s very lovely,” his older brother comments randomly, and yet he already knows Akiteru is without a doubt talking about you. 

Lovely?

His mind instantly goes back to when you were: (a) dancing like a crippled fledgling; (b) squawking like a dying seagull to imitate a crocodile; and (c) choking yourself because you thought you were dreaming. 

“If an alien in a human suit is lovely, then sure,” he answers dryly as he returns the pitcher back to the fridge.

“She’s really just a classmate?” his older brother probes. 

Akiteru has been insinuating for a while now that he should get a girlfriend, as if not having one will cause him to miss out on this ‘great’ experience of life. So now that he’s finally brought someone home, Akiteru had decided in his head that you’re a potential romantic partner. 

“How many times do I need to answer that?” he responds sourly. 

His brother smiles apologetically, but his face shows a regaled glimmer. “Sorry, Kei. I must have misunderstood since I don’t kiss my classmates on the lips.”

He stills right as he was about to bring the glass to his lips. 

He did not hear Akiteru’s steps back then. If he did, he’d quickly give himself adequate distance from you. He’d blame you for the distraction, but you weren’t really doing anything outrageous at that moment. You were actually unobtrusive and reasonable for the first time. It was him and his guilt that preoccupied him well enough to not notice Akiteru.

He finishes his water and leaves the glass on the counter. “Goodnight,” he says without looking at Akiteru as he hurriedly goes back to his room. 

It hasn’t been an hour since you two made the deal but someone -- worse, his own brother, has already found out. His only consolation is that Akiteru doesn’t really talk with his social circle so there’s no need to be worried. Also, Akiteru is not really the type to babble about stuff like that. 

The disadvantage is also the same as its advantage, it’s Akiteru. He might get all excited and continue assuming that there’s more to the two of you than this limited agreement, when the truth is you’re just two individuals who agreed to make out in secret.

But that’s something he wouldn’t dare reveal to anyone, most especially to Akiteru.

When he reaches his room, he immediately texts you. 

‘We meet in your place next time.’

Hopefully, Akiteru will forget whatever he saw tonight if you don’t come back. 

--

Surprisingly but not really, you and Tsukishima are getting along swimmingly since you made the deal. ‘Swimmingly,’ meaning he still ignores you and regards you as a pest during practice. During your private meetings, however, he is agreeable. 

It still seems unbelievable to you when you actually think about it. You and Tsukishima exchanging kisses when no one’s around? You’d have a good laugh if someone even suggested that idea to you before you shared that first, completely unintended kiss.

It is indeed comical, how you two would sit across each other, and with only a certain glance, both of you already know what’s up. Eventually, it became a bother to stand and go over to one another just for a kiss so you two sit side by side now.

Tsukishima is funny though. Sometimes, he wouldn’t act upon it because he expects you to take the initiative. You don’t mind doing it, but it’s fun to see him all bothered while trying to study. 

“Tsukishima, you look weird. Are you okay?” You feigned concern even though you clearly know why. 

He didn’t spare you a glance at all and just mumbled, “I’m fine,” while typing.

“Hmmm, alright! I’m done so we can wrap up now,” you let him know as you started fixing your stuff up. You thought that he’d hold on to his dumb ego and follow suit since you’ve finished cleaning up, but he still hadn’t done anything. 

You held back a smile when you felt him grab your arm. You swiftly composed yourself before turning to his direction. 

“What?” you ask like you don’t have a clue.

He glowers at you. “You know what.”

You pursed your lips to the side as you gently shake your head. “I am very confused right now,” you acted persuasively.

He puffed tempestuously before he grabbed your nape and roughly descended down on your lips, utterly disregarding his unnecessary pride. You willingly reciprocate it. You latched your fingers in his wrist beside your cheek as you responded to each suck and nip of his lips.

When it ended, you smiled into his mouth which effectively gave you away. 

He harshly pulled himself away from you. “You fucking knew,” he muttered furiously.

You scrunched up your nose and grinned mischievously as you gently tapped his cheek. “Of course, I knew. See you tomorrow at the match, Tsukishima,” you said, gesturing to his scattered belongings.

Needless to say, he was extra salty with you during the match with the Lions. But hey, at least they won the game. 

However, despite the Lions now out of the picture, your workload isn’t any better because winning only means needing to prepare the next opponent’s profile. You’re just a bit thankful now that unwarranted and unexpected kisses are no longer bothering you since the two of  you acknowledged the stupid attraction you have for each other.

Still, that doesn’t mean that your body has magically recovered and you’re no longer stressed all of a sudden. Because you are. You are stressed as fuck. With your academic load also on the line, you can’t rest yet.

You’re starting to feel overwhelmed and whenever that happens, you succumb to your one coping mechanism: stress eating. 

You’re about to meet Tsukishima but you have a few minutes to spare, so you head to the nearest cake shop. You buy a mini cake for yourself and one slice for Tsukishima. You don’t feel like sharing yours so you just get him his own. 

With a paper bag in hand, you see Tsukishima waiting for you by your dormitory’s entrance. You waste no time and ask him to follow you even though he probably already knows where exactly your room is. 

One would think that when the door closes, you two would jump on each other’s arms and just get on with your deal, but nah.

You two get to your usual seats with your mind solely on the cake you bought as both of you take out your notes and laptop. 

After you pull up the journal you need to look at for the day, you eagerly bring out the cake.

‘Hnnnngg,’  you groan internally. The cake’s design is so pretty that you almost don’t wanna eat it. But of course you will. You’ve never had strawberry shortcake from that shop before, so you’re curious to taste if it’s as good as it looks. 

Just as you’ve been ogling at your cake, you catch Tsukishima staring at it as well. “Do you want some, Tsukki?” you ask before you give the slice you got for him. 

“Why would I want something childish?” he asks back with a scowl. 

“I don’t see how a cake is childish but okay.” You would’ve felt bad, but you’ll have the extra slice for yourself anyways so it’s not really that bad.

Normally, you would like to savor the pastry while doing something fun, but you don’t have the time for it right now. You’ll just eat it while doing your assigned stuff for the day. 

For someone who thinks cake is childish, he keeps glancing at you with tiny hints of envy every time you take a bite. When he sees you catch him peering at the cake, he instantly flicks his eyes back to his laptop.

To verify your hunch, you moan exaggeratedly the next time you take a spoonful of the cake, instantly earning you a menacing glare from the blonde across you. 

“I’m sorry. It’s just so good, you know. The bread is so fluffy. The cream is not too sweet. The strawberry filling has actual bits of strawberry.” You enact a chef’s kiss after your detailed remarks. 

“Amazing. Best I’ve ever had. 10/10 would recommend and buy again,” you give a positive review before getting another slice.

When you get another spoonful, you groan again and roll your eyes for added effect. You look at Tsukishima and you can tell that it’s getting to him. Yet, he’s still not saying anything. He only keeps staring as if silently imploring you that you should let him have a taste as well. 

As if you’ll bend to his will just like that. 

“If you want some, just say so,” you taunt him with a smirk as you scoop the last spoonful in the plate, giving him not much time to swallow his pride and ask. 

Before you can put it in your mouth, he stops you. “Fine,” he says as he grits his teeth. “I want some.” 

Tsukishima really is funny. It’s only cake but he sounds so angry and embarrassed just because he asked for a tiny piece. How can you not tease him just a bit more?

You take the remaining piece and move beside him. You get the spoonful of cake, extending your arm and offering it to him that way. 

He looks at the cake and then you. “I know how to eat,” he enunciates coldly at your attempt to spoon feed him. 

You shrug it off with an ‘okay,’ then proceed to withdraw your hand so you can have it for yourself. 

“Wait.”

You comply and let your retreating arm stay in place. A faint pink tint surfaces on his cheeks as he leans down and takes the cake from the spoon with his mouth. When he starts munching on it, he looks away and slump a little while savoring the small remains you gave him.

You press your lips together to repress a smile cause you know he’ll be even more embarrassed. But holy crap, Tsukishima is so cute like this! You want to take a picture of him right now and just ogle at how adorable he is when he’s this flustered. 

The Sendai Frog’s nastiest middle blocker, standing at 6’3, likes strawberry shortcake. You’re reeling internally at your astounding discovery. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he snarls with the tiny blush still on his face.

You can’t help it anymore and give him a tight-lipped smile. “Nothing,” you squeak out from how hard you’re trying not to gush at his cuteness.

He suddenly regains his composure as he narrows his eyes while studying your face. 

It’s your turn to be conscious from how he seems to have discovered something about you as well. 

“What?” you ask warily.

You’re completely caught off guard when he puts a hand on your shoulder and lunges down. His lips capture the skin just beside the corner of your mouth, delicately sucking on the skin before brushing his warm tongue against it. 

You go rigid on your seat at the totally unexpected action from him. It’s not even a kiss but you feel goosebumps prickling your skin while the air you’re breathing gets stuck in your throat. 

That’s all he does then hoists himself back up, his features devoid of any emotion as if he didn’t just do something bold. His hand on your shoulder goes up to spot he just licked and strokes it with his thumb. 

“You eat like a ten-year old,” he says blankly. 

Just like that, the situation is reversed. He now has the upperhand while you’re completely frozen as your mind helplessly tries to come up with something, anything, to hide the fact that you’re a complete muddled mess on the inside.

But nothing. Your mind does not work and all its attention is still on the little stunt Tsukishima pulled just now. 

Being the manager of the Frogs, you’ve always seen them as cute little puppies you need to take care of. You’re the one in charge of them so you always feel like you’re the one in control. The sense of control is even more reinforced with other male athletes getting swept away with your antics during matches. 

Even with the several kisses you shared with Tsukishima, it’s only now that you’re rendered utterly disconcerted. Your lips start to tremble while your brows contort with horror from the foreign feeling that’s creeping on your whole body.

Fuuuucck, you curse silently at your mind’s incapability to come up with a solution to handle the situation. 

To make it worse, the corner of his lips start to tug up, forming a smug grin that suits him ludicrously well. 

“You okay, y/n?” His pompous demeanor lets you know that the question is not out of concern. He is very much aware of the effect he has on you. He’s just milking it.

And it’s fucking working.

He drags his thumb to your chin and tilts it up to get a better view of your features growing even more at loss by the second. “What’s wrong, hmm?”

You press your quivering lips together as you harshly avert your gaze from his. “Nothing,” you say too softly, losing the playfulness you had not long ago.

“What’s that?” He pretends to not hear it. 

Seems like you’ve had enough because you swat his hand away from your chin and cover your whole face with both hands. 

His grin spreads wide from your surrender as a chuckle escapes his throat. To entertain himself even more, he pries your hands away from your face. It’s easier than he expected since your wrists are like twigs with no strength in them.

Your face is a furious shade of rose as you glare at him with both shame and anger. You try to retrieve your arms but he’s obviously way stronger than you. “Tsukishima, you smooth li’l shit, let go of me!”

With that, he releases you as he cackles from your remark. He can now see the merits of acknowledging the inexplicable magnetism between him and you. Now that he doesn’t have to feel conflicted about it, he can relish breaking your previously impervious defenses by teasing you this way. 

There wasn’t even any cake on your face. He just made it up to get back at you for toying with him like one of your dumb admirers. 

You give off one enraged puff then you go back to face your laptop.  You try to look fine but you’re trying too hard. He can tell that you’re still bothered by it even when you’re focused on your screen now. 

He gets back to his own as well, the same grin he had earlier still there. He thought you’re going to keep ignoring him for the rest of your meeting, but before he can even focus on his own task, you awkwardly slide him the paper bag you had. 

“I actually got you a slice in case you wanted one,” you huff timidly while meeting his surprised gaze. You don’t say anything else and get back to working. 

That was… thoughtful of you. You got him one even if he didn’t ask for it. And despite teasing you like that, you still gave it to him. If it was him, he wouldn’t have bothered.

He gets the cake and saves it for later at home. He’d like to enjoy it alone away from your cheekiness, ridding you the chance to make fun of him the second time.

When he looks at you again, you give him a brief glance before settling in to do your assignment. He does the same since you two have frolicked enough for the day. 

He had learned something about you from your former meetings:  you have unbreakable focus when you start concentrating on something. You don’t talk. You don’t fiddle with your phone. You don’t even peel your eyes away from the screen unless you’re checking something on your notes.  

The remarkable thing is how efficient you are. You work fast and come up with decent output. He’s seen it both in your write up for the project and in the reports you give to the team.

It’s almost impressive, if not for its inevitable downside: you run out of steam just as fast, which is what seems to be happening right now. He’s ignored the first two yawns he’s heard from you, but he can’t dismiss the third consecutive yawn. 

He looks at your direction and confirms that you’re indeed starting to drop your attentiveness. Your eyes are becoming lazy and you’re just pressing your keyboard too hard one key at a time. 

“Oy, it’s still early for you to be sleepy,” he scolds you.

You tap your face, a futile attempt to wake yourself up because your eyes are still dazed when you look at him. “It’s the cake. I overfed myself and now I want to sleep like one.” You groan as you realize your mistake. “No worries though. I just need coffee,” you mutter. 

He slams his palm on the wooden surface of your table. “Do not get coffee,” he warns almost threateningly. He does not want a repeat of what happened the last time where you’re one wheeze away from death because of your damn coffee.

“But I need it,” you protest.

“No, you don’t. What you need is rest.”

“Don’t wanna. It felt weird last time. I don’t like slacking off when someone else is being productive,” you insist further.

He sighs irritably at your obstinacy. There’s no need to rush because you two managed to get back on the schedule you set, but then again he understands why. You’re trying to get as much shit done before your responsibilities become too much for you. 

That’s probably how you’ve been getting by for the past three years, being a university scholar while managing the team. If being a student while being an athlete is already difficult for him, how much more  for you who has grades to maintain while working as well?

If it were anyone else, they’d have exploded from the humongous amount of work that entails. Yet, you come to the gym with that carefree attitude of yours like you’re not burdened in any way. In all the times you’ve met with him outside the gym, not once has he heard you complain about it. 

You don’t whine. You just do what needs to be done.

It’s something worth respecting, to say the least. But you should really rest when your body tells you to. 

“I’ll stop doing the report and watch volleyball clips from last year’s Olympics. Take your nap,” he says. 

Your face brightens up at his suggestion. “Can I watch with you?”

“No.” The point of him watching is so that you can rest easy, not for you to join him. However, the look on your face tells him you won’t budge unless he lets you watch with him. 

“I swear, it’ll do me better than a nap,” you press on. 

He rubs his temple with irritation as you leave him with no choice but to agree. “Fine.” You squeal at his approval and scamper to his side. 

He opens his folders of volleyball clips he’s yet to watch while you tuck your knees together the same way you did last time you watched documentaries for your project. 

Halfway through the first clip, he feels your head bump his shoulder. He peers at you from his peripheral and sees your hazy eyes fighting off sleep. He doesn’t say anything and just waits for your drowsiness to successfully take over. 

By the end of the first video, he feels your head bobbing forward which he can no longer ignore. “Can’t you just go to your bed and sleep?” he asks almost desperately. 

You fix your posture and open your eyes again. “I’m fine.”

He rolls his eyes and gives a resigned huff as he skids his laptop to your front. You shoot him a puzzled look while he positions himself behind you. 

“Continue watching then.” He scoots closer until your back is pressed to him, effectively caging you as he extends his legs on your both sides. There’s no use trying to convince you to sleep when you’re this stubborn. So, he’ll just provide you the means to do so. 

You frown at him which he answers with a raised eyebrow. In the end, you just shrug it off and go back to watching. 

Just as he anticipated, you’re already unconscious in a matter of minutes. Your head falls back to his chest. He lets you settle deeper in your sleep, watching you unconsciously find a position you’re most comfortable in. By the time the second video ends, you’re no longer wiggling around and have found refuge on the front of his shoulder with your arm loosely wrapped around his bicep. 

Although he did say that he’ll slack off with you, he sees no reason to uphold it now that he’s finally got you to rest. Unlike you, he works at a normal pace. He needs to continue doing his own tasks so when you wake up, he’s already done as well. 

He carefully reaches for his laptop and closes the video currently playing. He gets back to working on the current draft of the project, feeling the strain on his back with nothing to support him while you lean against him. 

He shouldn't be doing this. There is no reason for him to be inconvenienced this way by you. This isn’t part of the deal.

But seeing how you’re working so hard yet still face everyone else with that vexatious cheerful smile of yours, he deems you deserving of that serene look on your face while you’re peacefully snuggled within his grasp. 

Just as he allowed you to kiss him, he also allows you to hold on to him like this. 

--

“Hey, number 17!”

Tsukishima hears someone yell. He’s sure that it was him who’s being called because he recognizes the voice. It’s someone from the Jaguars, the team they’re up against after winning against the Lions the previous game.

Still, he’d like to pretend that he doesn’t know it’s him the other athlete is shouting for. The gym is filled with other number 17s from different teams anyways. He can easily dismiss it. 

However, he hears his last name not long after, automatically singling him out from the other players who also wore his jersey number. 

Even though he despises small talk, it would be rude to ignore other players when they specifically call for him in public. Not that he bothers about what other people think of him, but more about how he represents his team. 

In high school, he didn’t care at all. But things are different now in the professional level. He’s forced to engage in insignificant nonsense with other players. 

He just hopes that this time it won’t be one of those times and that whatever this is is actually important

He turns around lazily and sees not one, but two Jaguars approaching him. It’s their starting setter and their pinch server. “I thought you couldn’t hear us, dude,” the setter says. He doesn’t reply and just stands his ground while waiting for what they’re going to say. 

“Anyways, mind if we ask the number of your manager?” 

It’s worse than nonsense. They approached him because of you.

They turn towards each other and simper at how they seem to think that it’s a genius idea to ask him instead of you. 

“You can ask her yourself. She’s just over there with the rest of the team,” he passively suggests. He’d be glad to lead these two poor hopeful souls if they want to. He’s sure you’d be more than happy to entertain them, in your own kind of way. 

“Nah. We know how she disses everyone. That’s why we’re asking you, Tsukishima-kun,” the pinch server counters. 

He’s the least protective of you compared to the rest of the team. He doesn’t care if you flirt all day long with these people or if you give your number to every single person here at the stadium. 

But whatever these hoodlums the idea that  he’ll  be the one to give your number to them? It’s not his to give. It’s yours. “It’s not really my decision to make,” he responds. 

“Is she really that good of a manager that you won’t share her?” 

He would’ve not perceived anything out of it if not for the malicious grin that surfaced on the setter’s poor excuse of a face. The two athletes step closer and speak in a volume only for him to hear. 

“Come on now. Don’t tell us you guys are not touching that hot piece dangling itself in front of you.”

‘Lowlives.’ 

That’s the most fitting word he can describe these two uneducated imbeciles who talk like you’re a slice of meat. No one deserves to be treated like that, especially you who madly dedicate yourself out of actual interest and affection for the team and the sport. 

Yet, these two fucking dimwits are insinuating that you’re available for him and his teammates to sleep around with. It’s more than just disrespect. It’s an absolute mockery of the effort and commitment you have for the job. 

It’s not his place to be angry. He’s not the one being slighted. But the image of your exhausted features fighting off sleep to do the report of these scumbags in front of him makes him want to do something about their blatant lack of intelligence. 

“Don’t look so scary now. We’re not going to steal your manager. We just want to know what it’s like to have a hot one managing us,” the setter once again proves his brainlessness to Tsukishima, successfully provoking him to do what he’s been itching to do. 

He offers them a too-pleasant smile that he gives to people who are about to get a taste of his snide irony. “Sorry, but it’s not really my problem that no one wants to manage a bunch of unsightly goons.”

A vein on the setter’s temple looks like it’s about to pop out as his hand yanks Tsukishima’s collar. 

“The fuck did you say?!” The setter of the Jaguars lashes out, quickly losing his temper amidst the public gymnasium.

The feigned smile on Tsukishima’s face is replaced by a genuine smirk as the two dimwits react exactly the way he wants them too. Although he can rile them up even more than he did, something tells him that these peabrains will actually resort to violence if he does so.

They’ll definitely be held out from playing the game if they do get violent, but so will he if he gets involved. 

Even though he looks unmotivated and lazy, he actually likes being on the court. And if he’s going to be honest, he looks forward to blocking the tosses of the setter who’s clutching his shirt at present.

“You shitty blocker,” the pinch server backs up his teammate. 

The shift of attention from you to Tsukishima doesn’t surprise him at all. From slandering you, they quickly move to verbally attacking him. His eyebrow twitches up from the remark but doesn’t bother responding to it. 

Why would he when he’ll just prove them wrong later? Instead of engaging with these two, he should be getting back to the rest of the team to get ready for their match. 

He’s about to grab the setter’s wrist to yank it off him when a set of feminine fingers beat him to it.

“My, my. Thank you for wanting to be friends with one of our players, but he really needs to warm up now,” you say with congenial sympathy to the upcoming competition. 

They seem to have forgotten that you’re the reason why they approached him. The setter releases Tsukishima’s shirt with a glare before the two Jaguars walk away.

“Bye, bye! Let’s get along well, yeah??” you shout and wave at them way too enthusiastically. You probably didn’t catch them talking about you, which is a good thing because you didn’t need to hear that kind of horse shit.

You put a light hand on his shoulder, making him anticipate a lecture from you for dawdling around. But you only tell him that you two should go back already. 

As you both turn around, the smile on your face drops while your grip on his shoulder tightens. 

“Did it bother you that much?” he asks as you both walk back to the court. 

“You bet it did. The gall of them to call you a shitty blocker, those fuckfaces. I swear to God, I would’ve,” you take a sharp breath then slowly let it out as you take your hands off him. “I’m fine. Everything’s fine. It’s just the usual gibberish talk among athletes,” you say to yourself, more than to him.

“What about what they said before that?”

Your brows scrunch up as you try to figure out what he’s talking about. “You mean when they assumed I’m sexing everyone from the team? Nah. I know some people think I’m a slut because I’m too sexy for their lame asses. I’m used to it so I don’t really care about crap like that,” you explain way too casually. 

He thought that at this time and age, people would be a little more progressive with how they think. Apparently, he was wrong. He’s always observed how you put yourself out there, entertaining any flattery that’s thrown at you. It’s also very obvious how open you are to showing affection for the team.

But he didn’t think people would have such indecent assumptions about you. What surprises him even more is you’ve been aware of it for some time now. Still, you continue being yourself.

“But Goooood. Their childish shit talking really pissed me off.” Your previous attempt to calm yourself down fails as anger graces your features once again.

“Promise me something, Tsukishima,” you tell him a few steps away from the court.

“What?” 

“Up your blocking game and win. I want to see those fucktard’s faces pulverized with defeat,” you announce as you seethe with fiery determination.

“There’s no need to promise,” he says calmly before the curve of his lips form a subtle yet definite grin. You immediately get his message as you mirror the arrogant pride on his face with a smirk of your own.

—

You’re not particularly competitive. Even as the captain of your own team before, you did not play to win. You played with your very best because you want to experience all the sport has to offer.

Maybe that’s why you stopped playing and decided to be a manager. You love the sport, but not as an athlete. You just love pushing people to their potential and being their support so they can give their all during matches.

Although you do like winning, you’re not hellbent on it. As long as the team gives their everything and you see them at their best, you’re happy with that.

This match is an exception.

At 23-24 with the Sendai Frogs on their match point, you’re clutching your notebook way too hard that the pages become crumpled and the edges dig in your palms.

When you saw Tsukishima earlier approached by the two Jaguars, you didn’t intervene immediately. You were near the area, watching and listening as to how things will unfold. You didn’t hear much of their mumbled conversation, but you caught enough words to put together that it was you they’re talking about. 

You do gain a lot of attention, but some of them are not exactly wholesome. Apparently, being outspoken and open equates to being easy to bed.

You just wish they said something more interesting because you almost yawned at how unoriginal their speculation is. You fucking around with the Sendai Frogs? Groundbreaking. 

What amused you though is Tsukishima’s response. Right at that moment, you wanted to kiss his snarky mouth. Not because he defended your honor, but from the clever snide comeback he quickly spat at their faces. 

Your amusement was quickly ruined when one of them laid a hand on him. You didn’t care that the fuckfaced setter did it in public. Even if he did it with no one around, your blood still would’ve boiled. But when he said that Tsukishima was a shitty blocker? The palm of your hand itched to get roughly acquainted with the opposing setter’s face. 

If this isn’t a tournament, you would’ve had a hard time deciding whether or not you’d have done it. But since this  is  a tournament, you can’t do that. You need to be civil and maintain good relations with every team, even if some of their members lack basic decency and  proper manners. 

Luckily, there is a way to get back at them: that is to win this match which has got you to the edge of your seat as soon as it reached the 20s of the second set. 

With Tsukishima, Eiji, and Kogane in front, there’s nothing to be scared about. It’s just that you really want them to score that last point already. 

The ball gets to your court and is received by Kogane, effectively cutting out your most optimal set-up to attack. 

“Tsukki!” Kogane calls out. Tsukishima runs to the center of the court, right in front of the net. The opposing blockers observe him to predict who he’s tossing the ball to, only to leave him completely open as he dunks the ball to the Jaguars’ side of the net.

You were sure it happened fast, but the pounding of your heart made it seem like the ball hitting the ground was in slow motion. You wait for the referee’s signal, hoping that there were no misplays on the Frog’s end that would prolong the game. 

The referee whistles and extends his arm to the Frog’s court, letting everyone know that it’s your team’s win. Cheers from team members themselves roar inside the gymnasium, soon joined by the applause from the audience. 

You’re supposed to check the losing facade of the Jaguars, but the joy and relief of winning floods you that you completely forget about how they insulted your clever middle blocker. You leave your tally notebook on the bench and rush to the court along with other members. 

You’ve always been impressed with Tsukishima’s blocking skills, but to win from his offensive mindfuckery with the other team just sent you to a whole different level of being proud. So it’s him you first go to. 

Without putting any thought to it, you wrap your arms around his waist. You don’t mind that he’s sweating and that his body heat is emanating from his skin. You’re too thrilled that he scored the winning point to even care. 

“Good job, Tsukishima!”

Right after saying it out loud, you feel him tense beneath your touch. You lift your gaze up to him and meet his eyes which are wide from shock and panic. Immediately after, your eyes do the same when you realize what you’ve done.

The loud cheers from the team have stopped.  You slowly turn your head to see why, even though you already know the reason.

It’s like a paused scene from a movie where everyone completely halts whatever they’re doing. The only difference is they stopped with their attention completely on you, specifically on how your limbs are enclosed around Tsukishima’s waist and your cheek flat on his chest. 

Shit. 

You’re hugging Tsukishima in public, in front of the whole team.

Part 4 || Part 6 || masterlist

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[lokis-little-kitten]

Teaching Assistant 1

Title: Teaching Assistant Writer: Lokis-Little-Kitten Pairing: LokixReader Rating: Mid Warning: spankings, mentioning of masturbation, ED, college, teacherxstudent Summary: You get a job as a teaching assistant for you professor Loki Laufeyson. Quickly the relationship takes a turn when Loki offers to teach you the robes of BDSM. 

You sit down and grab the books and notepad that you need for your class. The book- Mansfield Park- was absolutely amazing and you mourn the fact that this month is over and so this book. Professor Laufeyson- the Literature professor- always has you read one book per month and has you write an essay on it. 

Professor Laufeyson is definitely your favourite teacher here at Asgard University. He is the son of the dean, Odin Allfather, and brother of the next dean Professor Odinson. 

Professor Laufeyson is a strange one- you have to admit- but he has passion. He loves literature and that makes him a great teacher. He is stern though… You have never seen him laugh or even smile. He doesn’t allow you in without your book- not even to listen to his lecture- and holds the old fashion dear to his heart. He isn’t that old yet, however. Only twenty-something. Not much older than you-you believe. 

He is also very handsome. It may be unprofessional to think that of your professor but you can’t go around it. Raven black hair that barely reaches his shoulder is always combed back. Pale skin and piercing green eyes adore his skinny face and match his lean body perfectly. He always wears a suit- with tie!- while dominating the room. He is basically the wet dream of everyone. Handsome, smart, good family, money and secure job, what else more would- could- you ask for? 

You and your best friends always wonder how he would be in private. Would he be just as domineering or would he let go a bit? Be a playful gentle black lab? You just don’t know… 

When said best friend- Dimitri- walks in he smiles at you. ‘’There is my bestest friend of all time,’’ he chirps as he pulls you in a hug. ‘’Hey there baby,’’ you chuckle and hug him back. Dimitri is like family to you. You were removed from your home when you were only ten years old and went from foster family to foster family. Dimitri is here from America because he wanted to study in the UK. He rarely sees his useless parents as well and so you sought comfort in each other. 

Then Professor Laufeyson strides in. In a straight line he goes for the desk and lays his bag on the table. He pulls out Mansfield Park and his laptop. Next, he starts the beamer and connects his laptop to it so it shines on the white-board. The long coat slides from his shoulder and is then parked on the back of his chair. 

All of this takes him a while but everyone is quiet. The gaze of every student is focussed on the man in front of you. He then finally stops walking around and stares at you for a moment. 

‘’So,’’ his voice then echoes, ‘’I see you have made it to my class. Good, because today I have an announcement. Since the first month of this year is over I will need a teaching assistant. This will obviously be great on your resume, help your grades, give you time off school, count as volunteering this year and may even secure a job on this very university. If you are interested you will have to fill out a form that you can find in your email and send it to me before tomorrow. Next class I will announce who got the job.’’ 

A careful hand is raised in the first row. ‘’Miss Jobbs, what is it,’’ Loki asks coldly. ‘’How will this person be selected.’’ ‘’I will. Who I think is most fitting will get the job, simple. Any other questions?’’ His gaze scans the class until another hand rises. 

‘’Mister Fors?’’ Loki slightly turns towards the boy on the third row. ‘’Well… Will things like grades or attendance count in this progress?’’ ‘’Most certainly! Everything, mister Fors,’’ Loki spits out while leaning on his chair, ‘’will count in this choice. Now let’s continue but before that.’’ 

Suddenly his gaze falls onto you. ‘’Miss Y/L/N, does your sitting position enhance your academic performance?’’ You look at yourself. You have one foot folded under you and the other over your knee. It’s comfortable. 

‘’Yes?’’ Loki raises his brows. ‘’Very well then. Can I then assume you are able to tell me why Mansfield Park is such a brilliant but lesser-known novel from Miss Auston?’’ And so the class has started. 

Professor Laufeyson gives all of you some homework and Wuthering Heights to read at home but then lets you go. You’re relieved that there is a break after his class, it is always so intense that you're in dire need of it!

You sit down at a bench with a hot latte next to you. Dimitri sits down on the opposite site and gives you a smile. ‘’So… Teaching Assistant. Sounds good to me, what about you?’’ You nod and get your laptop. ‘’I think I will apply but I don’t  think he’ll choose me. I mean nor my attendance or grades are perfect and that is what he looks for… perfection,’’ you mumble while still clicking on the email. 

You open the form and read it through. Standard things. Class, name, age, major. You fill it in and send it to your teacher while chatting with Dimitri. ‘’The question is, however,’’ you smirk hitting the send button, ‘’will you apply?’’ Dimitri shrugs. ‘’Nah… I don’t need the extra work. I just want to relax.’’ You nod a little and open your drive.

You’re a bit of a writer and so do it in all of your spare time. You have written and ton of stories already. Passionate fighters, tearful expeditions and ‘written erotica’ you could better qualify under BDSM… You have a hidden soft spot for it. 

Never did you bring it up in any of your relationships or even to your friends. You never went to any forms to talk to other. You’re just you and you write about it in secret. 

Your secret… 

The week passes slowly as usual. You like going to school but sometimes you get sick and tired of the endless lecturing. Then the first class of this week with Professor Laufeyson rolls around. 

When you walk in you can feel the nervous atmosphere in the room. Most people want to know who got the assistant position. You too fidget with your rings while waiting for Laufeyson to walk in. 

‘’Hello class,’’ then echoes through the room accompanied by his heavy footsteps, ‘’good to see you all survived the four days without this class. ’’ 

He does his normal routine while letting everyone wait in excitement. He then casually starts his class. He explains a million things but not much sticks this week. He probably tells you half of the same things tomorrow anyways. He then finally finishes up. 

‘’I expect you to have one-fourth of your essay done on Thursday and then… What you- apparently- all have been waiting for this class. Who has the assistance position.’’ You are already talking yourself down. He won’t pick you… Why did you even apply with those grades? It’s pathetic. Hopefully, no one finds out. 

‘’Miss Y/L/N, you are the lucky girl that has the position from now on I expect you in my office in ten minutes to discuss everything.’’ Your eyes widen when he says it. You… Is he sure he means you? Maybe he just got the wrong name. He must have. 

The class start to empty out when you get out of shock and able to pick up your stuff. You quickly do and rush to the professor's office. You wait for it to be exactly ten minutes since he is very keen on punctuality. 

You knock once, twice… Answer. ‘’Come in!’’ You open the door and peer into his office. You had never been inside. It is beautifully old and cosy. The walls are wood panels with patterns in them. The floor is carpet which you didn’t expect but the grey-brown pattern compliments the room. 

On the left is his desk that is the same colour brown wood as the walls. The leather chair behind him is green just like all of the other accent colours in the room like the lamps. Everything metal is a golden shade while fabric is that same dark green. On the right side is a fireplace that burns softly with two bookcases on both sides. In the corners are green-brown chairs you can sit in and read. The office is perfect for Professor Laufeyson, undeniable.

‘’Miss Y/L/N, come sit,’’ he speaks pointing at the simple green brown chairs in front of his desk. ‘’Thank you,’’ you whisper while walking towards the left chair quietly. You feel like you’re not allowed to make any noise here. 

‘’I assume you were rather surprised when I said your name? It was written all over your face,’’ he mumbles while looking down on a paper with a red Sharpie in hand. ‘’Yes,’’ you breathe. ‘’Why is that?’’ He still doesn’t look up at you, almost ignoring you. 

‘’I’m not a perfect student I-’’ ‘’No your not that is why I chose you.’’ Finally, he looks up from his work. ‘’I think you have it in you to become a great student. Maybe one of the best I’ve had.’’ You furrow your brows. ‘’Well… thank you?’’ 

Professor Laufeyson puts away his marker and now gives you his full attention. ‘’Miss Y/L/N, the reason I asked you here was so we can discuss your duties as my assistant. You will be required in my office after your last class everyday, unless I dismiss you beforehand. Understood?’’ ‘’Yes.’’ 

‘’Good, most of it will be self-explanatory when it comes along but there are some things you need to know before we start all of this.’’ 

Half an hour later you finally leave his office. This guy really is intense. He asked you at least a million different questions, told you about him and the uni while also telling all of the rules. You were quick to get your notebook when he started to tell you the rules. Luckily he was so kind to repeat them every now and again so you could write them down.

He had you print your schedule as well so he could find you if he needed you when in class and so he knew when to expect you. He also had you print out some other things. Luckily there is a Bluetooth printer located in his office.

When you finally get home the only thing you want to do is write, eat and sleep. So that is what you do. You write a smut- BDSM- story because… why not and have dinner. You’ll print your story tomorrow, you tell yourself when you are ready to go to bed. 

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[clonecest-bin-account]

300 followers bingo - Fox/Wolffe | Pirates AU

(Oof this came out way longer than I thought, you’ll soon see why. Hope you like it!)

As Fox and the rest of his troops inspect the site of the wreckage, the only thing he finds are dead men. Whatever has caused the Dread Wolf to finally sink must’ve done a pretty good job at it.

He can’t help but to think that it’s a shame, despite the fact that the Dread Wolf, and especially its captain, have been a thorn to his side for years, hindering the commerce with their incursions. King Palpatine had even declared by law that any act of piracy will be punishable by death, but that never stopped the crew of the Dread Wolf.

Still, Fox won’t lie and say that he never enjoyed the thrill of the chase, that sometimes he even looked forward to the Dread Wolf’s incursions, so he’d get his chance to duel the only man who he could ever consider his rival.

And now…

 That lucky son of a whore.

 The man Fox has just found on the shore it’s the same man that he was talking about: here he is - alive and breathing - the master of the Dread Wolfe, captain Wolffe himself - Fox has always wondered which name came first, the ship’s of the captain’s.

How he’s still alive, this Fox doesn’t know, but in the end, it’s not like it matters: now that he’s found him, he will arrest him, and then he’ll be sentenced to death. Either that, or he’ll rot in prison if the king feels merciful - if that can be either considered a mercy.

It’s his duty to take him in custody, to make him pay for his crime… and yet, Fox still hasn’t moved a muscle.

He can’t, he just can’t…

 What’s stopping him from fulfilling his duty?

It’s his damn honor, that’s what it is: last time they’ve met, he and his crew had ambushed the ship Fox was in, but he let Fox go despite the fact that he could’ve easily taken him down, only taking the goods the ship was transporting before leaving.

He could’ve easily killed him, but he didn’t, and now Fox can’t bring himself to apprehend him like he’s supposed to do.

… Damn it all!

 Before he can be joined by the rest of the royal guard, he takes Wolffe’s unconscious body and drags him behind a group of rocks so that he’ll be hidden, then he goes back to the site of the wreckage, deleting every trace of something being dragged to safety.

Thankfully, both for Wolffe and himself because, if someone finds out, Fox will be hanged for betrayal, he manages to do it before everybody else arrives.

“Found anything?” Thorn, his second in command, asks him.

“Nothing of interest,” Fox replies. “Just other wrecks of the ship.” He truly hopes that Thorn will not see behind his lies; out of everyone, he’s the person who knows him the most.

Thorn nods, thoughtful. “Yeah… Most men must’ve drowned. It’ll take some time before all of them wash up to the shore, if the fish don’t eat them first.”

Fox frowns at the image, but he supposes that Thorn is correct, which makes it plausible that they wouldn’t see Wolffe’s body. And Fox didn’t even need to advance that hypothesis himself, so he’ll look less suspicious for it.

At that point he sighs, gaze moving from the wreckage to Thorn. “If we’re done here, let’s move out. The sun’s setting, we’ll get back tomorrow morning.”

At those words, they all snap to attention. “Yessir!”

 --

Once he can take advantage of the cover of the night, Fox comes back to the site of the wreckage, thinking about how dead he is at each step. He shouldn’t be doing this, and yet here he is.

He finds Wolffe still unconscious, which does worry a bit, but he’s well aware that he can’t exactly bring him to a doctor, so all he can do is to find him a secure place where he can rest, and hopefully get well. If he needs to, he can bring him medicine… Wait, why is he thinking so far ahead? And also, why should he even buy stuff for him? Isn’t it enough that he’s giving him shelter?

Oh well, he can think about this later. Now he needs to take him somewhere safe, which, he regrets to admit, could be only one location: his house.

 “Jesus how much do you weigh?” he mutters under his breath as he drapes one of Wolffe’s arms around his shoulders so that he can pull him up and drag him to what will be his temporary hideout.

The more he keeps going, the less he feels this is worth it, but he’s gone too far to stop now. He’s taken a decision and he’ll go along with it until the bitter end.

  --

When Wolffe wakes up, the first thing that comes to mind is how much everything hurts. He doesn’t remember going into a drunken blender the previous day, so that can’t be it…

In a flash, he remembers everything: the storm, their desperate attempts to stir the ship… the wreckage.

He jolts up, or well he would’ve done it if one of his wrists wasn’t bound to the headboard of the bed he somehow finds himself laid upon. Panicked, he raises his gaze to observe what is keeping him there; it’s a simple handcuff, but he knows by the looks of it that he can’t smash it, not without some dull object.

And yet, despite the knowledge, his mind is too fuzzy with panic for him to act accordingly; he tugs on the handcuff, then he tries again, and again, but to no avail.

He begins looking around for something he can use, when a weight presses against his shoulders, forcing him down. “Don’t. Move.”

 You can imagine his surprise when he sees that the man over him is Fox, commander of the king’s guard himself.

At that, he tries to shake him off, to free himself even harder than he was doing before, which ends up with Fox reacting by pinning him down by the wrists. “For fuck’s sake, Wolffe, I’m trying to help you here!”

“And how exactly are you helping me?” Wolffe growls back. “Looks like you took me prisoner!”

“Yeah, because I didn’t know what you would’ve done when you woke up!” Fox retorts. “I wasn’t going to leave you unguarded and alone…”

Silence falls between the two, tense at first, but then Wolffe - and consequently Fox - begins to relax, until Fox speaks again. “I found you in the midst of what remained of your ship, and since you spared me once, I’m returning the favor. If you promise me you’re not going to make a mess, I’m going to uncuff you.”

 Oh.

This is unexpected. Did Fox really do it?

No, it’s impossible, he must be lying!

… Right?

 And yet, for some reason, he finds himself inclined to believe him, because he knows that, unlike many of his companions, Fox keeps his word. It’s one of the reasons why he enjoys dueling with him and why he respects him despite the fact that he’s the king’s dog.

Despite everything, he nods, then. “I promise,” he tells Fox, intending not to betray his trust. If it’s true that he saved him, it’s the least he can do.

Fox looks at him for a moment, probably pondering if he should trust him or not, but in the end he decides to free him, so he slowly goes to unlock the handcuff that is keeping Wolffe to his bed with the key he was keeping in his pocket.

Once he’s free, Wolffe pushes him off, but otherwise he doesn’t seem to do anything else except sit and massage his sore wrist. Just how long has he been like this? He’s afraid to ask.

 Silence falls between them, even as Fox sits beside him. In normal circumstances, they would have nothing to do with each other, so it makes sense that they wouldn’t be exactly inclined to talk to each other, and yet, Wolffe has to ask…

“Was there any other survivor?”

Fox sighs. He was expecting this question. “Not that I know of,” he replies, then, figuring that for this kind of stuff, sugarcoating it would’ve been useless.

Wolffe lowers his gaze as a heavy silence settles between them. He looks so miserable but unwilling to show it that Fox almost feels the urge to try to reassure him, but he doesn’t, knowing that no matter what he says, it wouldn’t make it all better like some kind of magic.

Eventually, the atmosphere is so heavy that Fox can’t stomach staying there anymore. “I-I’m going to bring you something to eat,” he mutters. “Stay here.”

With that, he gets up and leaves the room, towards the kitchen. Watching the state Wolffe is in now makes him wonder if it wouldn’t have been more merciful to just kill him, but it’s not like he can go back on his decision now; it’s way too late for that.

  --

With time Wolffe’s body begins to heal, and he finds himself with more and more energy. The same can’t be said about his mind, however, not when this all still feels like a nightmare to him.

Did he really lose all his men? No, it can’t be, and yet he knows that Fox is not lying - what reason would he have to do that when he’s gone all the way to rescue him and not send him to prison immediately?

What should he do, now? What even is he anymore? A captain without neither a ship, nor a crew.

Why did he even survive? Why did Fox take pity on him?

He should’ve just let him die…

  --

Fox is… surprisingly cordial to him.

At first Wolffe found it weird, unnatural even - they’re supposed to be enemies, not this - and yet he can’t help but to be appreciative of the effort Fox is doing not to antagonize him, just as much as Wolffe tries to do the same, knowing that if he crosses him, he risks losing this safe harbor.

Once he heals more, he’s even allowed to explore Fox’s house, though of course he’s confined to his room whenever the commander has guests; it’s in their best interest that he remains hidden.

He still thinks Fox is a fucking dog, but… he’s not so bad, after all.

 Living in such close quarters has made him discover parts of him that he wouldn’t even have known about otherwise, like that he hates sweets except from honeyed stuff, that he’s very particular about what to wear - he has to appear perfect always - and that he has a secret soft spot for cats - he must’ve forgotten that Wolffe was inside when he took a weak stray inside to feed him and then let it go outside once it was strong enough to move again.

He supposes that Fox has found out some things about him as well, like the fact that he snores in his sleep, something that he complains about quite often, that he likes meat and that he’s unexpectedly good at flower arrangement, demonstrated when Fox didn’t know what to do for the guard’s doctor’s birthday; he suggested he could give her a bouquet that she could keep in her study, and even helped him arrange some flowers.

“Where did you learn?” Fox asks, dumbfounded by this. It makes him wonder why he didn’t open a flowers shop instead of becoming a pirate; at least he would’ve had an honest work.

“That’s a secret,” Wolffe replies, winking.

 They both freeze, at that. Did Wolffe just…

This easy camaraderie shouldn’t be possible between them, and yet here they are, acting like a pair of friends.

It’s weird, just… yes, weird.

Maybe they shouldn’t get so close to each other.

  --

Fox has lost count of how many nights he’s spent without being able to fall asleep because of Wolffe.

To be fair, he can’t exactly blame him for something that, after all, isn’t in his control, but this nightmare business hurts both of them.

He should do something about it, but what? He’s no expert in this matter, and he doubts he has what it gets to calm him down.

 A sigh escapes his lips as he gets up from his bed.

Before he can change his mind, he makes it to the guest room.

 He finds Wolffe twisting and turning in his bed without any hope of stopping soon.

Fox’s gaze is sad as he looks at him. If he lost his entire battalion, would he be the same? Would he be able to pull through? He doesn’t know…

He’s always had the feeling that Wolffe was pretty close to his crew, definitely closer than he is with the king’s guard, but it would still hurt, even though not as much.

 He almost reaches for Wolffe, before having a last minute hesitation; they say that you shouldn’t wake up people who are having a nightmare, so shouldn’t he just let it pass? But he feels bad not doing anything!

In the end he decides to put an end to his suffering, and he shakes him.

He was expecting Wolffe to jolt awake in a violent manner, but he wasn’t expecting him to actually attack him, though in hindsight he should’ve known this was going to happen - he would’ve probably done the same. Wolffe punches him, then he even tries to choke him, but Fox grabs his hands, keeping him still.

“Wolffe…” he says, voice weirdly soft, as he tries his best to keep the other at bay. “It’s me… Wolffe… Stop!”

At that, Wolffe freezes and let’s Fox go. “Fox…”

“It’s fine,” Fox hurries to say, trying to be reassuring. “It’s fine…”

 He doesn’t know how it happens exactly - he must’ve been so shocked that he barely registered it - but here they are with Wolffe held in Fox’s arms as he sobs quietly - or at least he tries to do it - while Fox caresses his hair in a silent attempt to bring him some comfort. He’d say something, but first of all he’s afraid of ruining things by running his mouth and potentially saying something that would turn out to be the wrong thing, secondly, he doesn’t even know what to say.

Saying something like “it’s fine” feels disingenuous at best, outright insulting at worst. No, it’s not fine, and who knows if it’ll ever be; he won’t lie to Wolffe like that, so he just keeps holding it, wondering if there even is a point to this, if this is actually helping.

 He wasn’t expecting Wolffe to drag him down for a kiss.

These last few weeks have been full of stuff he wasn’t expecting, but this has to take the cake. Most unexpected of all, though, it’s the fact that he finds himself returning the kiss, that when Wolffe falls down on the bed, taking him with him, he goes along without batting an eye.

He feels his hands on his body and he doesn’t push him away, doesn’t try to stop him. Actually, he welcomes every move.

Weirdly enough, he feels like he’s been waiting for this to happen, but he has not, hasn’t he?

  --

It’s not the first night they spend like this. After the first, it’s like something has changed inside them, a burning desire for the other that can be hardly satisfied.

In a way it’s not that different from when they’d constantly seek each other out in battle, only that now their duels are of a very different kind.

 With this, however, a feeling of dread keeps hanging over Fox’s shoulders: he’s aware of what would happen to him - and Wolffe too - if they get caught, and the more Wolffe stays with him, the more likely it’s to happen.

Eventually, he’ll have to let him go, and Wolffe, well, he’ll go back to what he used to do, he supposes. If he managed to make a name for himself out there, he can do it again - besides, it’s not like he doesn’t have allies in the pirating business that would surely help him out.

Despite this, however, he finds himself unwilling to let Wolffe leave. For once, he wants to be selfish…

  --

Things change on one night, a night that Fox has no intention of spending at home. He has too much to think about, and feels the need for some fresh air.

Besides, it’s been a while since he let himself be seen outside beside his duties; he wouldn’t want people to think that something’s up…

It’s weird, in a way, being so far from Wolffe…

 Eh, look at him. Some shitty king’s guard he makes.

 Before he has the time to react, he’s pulled into a dark alleyway, showed against the wall by two men that, on a more attentive exam, are two people that Fox didn’t even think were alive: Wolffe’s right-hand men, Boost and Sinker.

“Good evening, Foxie…” Sinker greets him with a grin, using the nickname that he knows makes Fox growl in fury, which in fact he does. He hates being called like that.

Boost, on the other hand, doesn’t share Sinker’s playful behavior. “Tell us where you’re keeping Wolffe locked up and we might not gut you like the dog you are,” he growls, pushing a knife against Fox’s throat, though Fox looks unimpressed.

“Very classy, like always,” he replies in fact, but that’s not all he has to say, even though he doubts it’ll help. “And, for your information, Wolffe is with me, and not locked in a cell.”

Boost and Sinker look at each other, and Fox knows already that this is going to be a looooong night.

  --

Somehow he’s convinced them to come with him and see with their eyes, though they’re still wary of him, enough that, if he makes the wrong move, they’re going to gut him. It’s fair, he would do the same in their situation, he supposes.

He can’t lie: he’s surprised to see that there have been other survivors, considering what they have found. It makes him wonder how exactly they managed to hide from them, but when he tried to ask they shut him down immediately. It’s fine, he doesn’t care about it that much - liar and hypocrite.

 At least Wolffe will be happy to see them…

  --

Just as he thought, as soon as Wolffe sees Sinker and Boost with Fox, he runs towards them, just like the other two as soon as they see their captain alive and well. They meet halfway, almost colliding into each other for the excessive speed.

“I can’t believe it…” Wolffe mutters, drawing the two into a tight hug. “You’re alive!”

“We are!” Sinker tearfully replies. “And you! You are…!”

“So he wasn’t lying after all,” Boost mutters, turning towards Fox, who sagely doesn’t say anything despite how much he wants to retort to that, since he doesn’t want to ruin the moment. Actually, maybe he should leave, let them have a moment.

Before he can do that, though, he hears Wolffe scold Boost. “Don’t say that! He… He helped me quite a lot. He saved me, in fact.”

 Yes, they’re all surprised at that admission, even Fox, despite the fact that he’s gotten used to the idea that yes, he did save him. Still, it’s weird to hear it directly from Wolffe’s ears.

“I… I should go. Give you some time alone,” he’s able to mutter, before retreating to the kitchen.

 Coward…

  --

When he hears the sounds of steps, he pokes out to see Boost and Sinker on their way to the main door.

“Where are you going?” he asks.

“None of your business,” Boost states, and after that, he walks out of Fox’s room, leaving Sinker lingering on the exit, but he still hasn’t moved.

He looks at Fox and he seems… hesitant, for some reason?

“Hey,” he begins, “… Thank you, for saving Wolffe.”

Fox’s old instincts push to retort that he hasn’t done it for them, but what would that accomplish? Nothing at all. If anything, it would be detrimental.

“It’s nothing…” he mutters, barely loud enough to be understood. Sinker looks at him, expression hard to read, then he leaves as well.

  --

He doesn’t go to Wolffe immediately, afraid of what he’d see in him once he lays his gaze upon him: the happiness he must be feeling for having found some of his old crewmates and… the desire to leave.

Here he is again, being a selfish fuck. He shouldn’t be like this, and he knows that eventually he will have to let him go - he can’t continue this charade forever, and it’s important for both their lives that Wolffe leaves - but he can’t deny that it will hurt having to do that.

To think that that feared day might come soon…

 He shakes his head, trying to get a hold of himself.

In the end, he got attached to Wolffe, something that he shouldn’t have done, something that is dangerous.

A sigh escapes his lips. Well, it’s not like he can do anything about it now, can’t he?

  --

When he goes to Wolffe, he does indeed look the happiest Fox has seen him since he’s saved him.

When Fox steps into the bedroom, he finds him sitting on his bed, but as soon as Wolffe notices his presence he walks up to him and he kisses him with a fervor that he never used before. Fox, although surprised by such an initiative, especially now, can only submit to the attentions, and so doesn’t object when Wolffe walks him to the bed and pushes him onto him, following suit.

He keeps him close and he kisses him and kisses him and kisses him and takes him until Fox feels like he’s drowning, but eh, if he has to be honest, this wouldn’t be a bad way to go…

  --

“So… Are you leaving?” Fox asks. He’s waited until he and Wolffe were done, and what better way to ask than now, while they’re both still recovering lying one beside the other? Sure, he might sour the mood, but Fox needs to know.

“… Yes,” Wolffe replies, suspiciously cautious. Is he hiding something?

There are many things Fox would like to say, so many that it creates such a mess in his mind that he just nods without actually uttering a thing. He has much to think about after all.

Apparently, Wolffe is of the same vein, because he keeps quiet as well. It’s like all the enthusiasm from before has vanished, leaving space to quiet contemplation.

Fox would do anything to know what he’s thinking about; he could ask, but he feels like if he does, he’d only make Wolffe less willing to share. No, he’s got to wait, admitting that Wolffe will share the conclusions he’ll reach after this moment.

 He’s lucky, because soon, after a long sigh that doesn’t preannounce anything good, he turns toward Fox, a determined and serious look in his eyes.

“Come with me.”

Fox, taken off guard by such a request, can only reply with a “Where?” before mentally slapping himself. As if it’s not obvious where he wants him to go. “I can’t,” he quickly adds then, shaking his head.

“Why?” Wolffe asks.

Fox doesn’t know what to say; wouldn’t it be too easy to just leave his life behind, and for what even, exactly? No, he can’t do it, no matter how much he’d want to. “I…”

 He wants to leave.

The realization hits him like a punch in the gut.

This is his life, what he worked hard to obtain. He has friends, here, people he cares about… and yet, he wants to leave them all behind.

He can’t deny how tired he’s got of everything. The kingdom’s falling into pieces and he seems to be the only one who has noticed it. Is this why he wants to leave?

Yes, but also not entirely: these weeks spent with Wolffe have been special for Fox. He’s never felt more alive than in the company of the same man who’s lying down with him, at his side.

To be able to leave with him… It would be a dream…

 “What’s stopping you?”

 Fear, Fox realizes. Fear is what’s stopping him.

Leaving with Wolffe would be such a drastic change from his usual life that he can’t help but to feel paralyzed at the prospect. How could he even get used to it? And if he regrets the change?

On the other hand, however, wouldn’t he regret not leaving? Wouldn’t he regret not following Wolffe? Yes, he would.

He can’t lie: he feels a certain thrill at the idea of living a criminal life with his beloved, but could it really become more than just a fantasy? Could they make it work?

 He wants to make it work.

Yes, Fox wants this to work, he wants to be free and happy with Wolffe, and that won’t happen until they leave.

 He takes Wolffe’s face between his hands and he kisses him, then he kisses him again and again, but when they pull away, he seems to be talking more to himself than to the other.

“Yes… Nothing’s stopping me.” He can leave if he wants - and he wants it. Nothing’s stopping him…

He looks back at Wolffe and every shadow of doubt is gone from his face. If he lets this occasion slip through his fingers, he’ll never forgive himself, he knows it.

Wolffe looks at him expectantly. “So that means…”

“Yes,” Fox says, “let’s do it.”

  --

If you told Fox that one day he was going to find himself running away from the kingdom he’s served since he has memory, following his archnemesis turned lover, he would’ve laughed at you and then thrown you into jail. Funny how some things change, huh?

Here he is now, looking at his house one last time, before leaving it - and his previous life - forever behind.

There’s still some space - a very tiny one - for doubt in his head, but he’s made up his mind: he’s going to live his life to the fullest, and in order to do that, he needs to leave. Wolffe will surely show him a new side of life that he didn’t even know existed, Fox is certain of it.

 He turns around, looking at Wolffe, who��s standing behind him, waiting for him to say goodbye to his old life.

When he notices Fox’s gaze on him, he sends him an interrogative gaze. “Ready?” he asks.

Fox stays silent. He walks up to Wolffe, taking his hand once he’s close enough and raising it to his lips, kissing his knuckles.

“Yes, let’s leave this place.”

 He’s made up his mind, and nothing can stop him.

[ilguna]

Redamancy - Chapter Three (f.o)

summary: it’s time to forgive and repair.

warnings; swearing, drug use/mention, alcohol use, hints at prostitution and I bend the Capitol to my will.

wc; 9.9k

NOTES; I give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

This morning, you’re up and out of bed without a single complaint. You sit on the bed for a while, staring out the window and watching as the city slowly comes to life. Traffic is light for the first hour or so, but it doesn’t stay like that. You can imagine that everyone is anticipating tomorrow, the last day before the games start.

One breather day before it all goes downhill.

You get out of bed after that, taking your time inside of the shower, mainly trying to find what Annie and Marsh will be like during the interviews. There’s nothing that the Capitol hasn’t seen before, seventy years worth of the Hunger Games--they’ve experienced it all. The most you can do is put a twist on an adjective.

New approaches are always hard, you’re competing with ten to twenty other mentors. Most of them have been at this longer than you have--mainly Haymitch. But to be fair, Haymitch gave up on this whole scheme a while ago. The only thing he does anymore is drink and make a fool of himself on television all the time.

Sad to say, but District Twelve isn’t a threat at all. They didn’t even really post a threat during your games, either. That’s a conversation for a different day, though. You’re not really willing to get into it anymore. Your focus needs to be on helping Annie and Marsh.

By the time you’re dressed and in the dining room, you’ve still come up with nothing. The only other person at the table this morning is Finnick, which is a pleasant surprise. Elysia is always the first and last person out of the dining room. Not to mention, you’re pretty sure she sits out here and waits hours for you guys to appear. It explains why she has the tv on all the time when you get out here.

“Looks like you’ve got an early start going on too.” you say, heading down the steps.

He hums, head dips and then he’s shooting upright in his seat.

“Okay, maybe not.” you stop next to him, grabbing his chin with one hand to make him look up at you. His pupils are dilated, bags beneath his eyes. He looks much older here, not the same guy he was yesterday, “How about you take today off?”

“I’m fine.” he murmurs, moving your hand away, “Just a late night.”

“Go sleep while you can.” you tell him, “Hopefully some of the drugs will wear off by then.”

“They already have, they don’t work anymore.” he yawns, and then moves the plates out of his way so he can rest his head on his arms.

You count in your head how long it takes for him to fall asleep. At five seconds, you get your breakfast, at ten his closed eyes aren’t as tense. When it hits fifteen, his mouth parts and body slumps. He’s out cold by eighteen, nice and steady breaths. It’s going to be a quiet morning after all.

“Can I get something to write on?” you ask the avox.

She gives you a curt nod and disappears. In the meantime, you eat your breakfast and stare at Finnick, who looks like he’s never had a tense moment in his life. The only times Finnick truly looks relaxed is when he’s not awake. As if he’s never been in the Hunger Games, his family isn’t gone, and he’s never worked every night in the Capitol since he turned sixteen.

Your stomach churns, heart squeezing painfully. You try not to frown, but it’s hard not to. A part of you wonders if this is what you look like to your family when you accidentally fall asleep on the couch or in the study, working on paperwork for the boarding school. You’re just a pair of overworked kids, who have never had a peaceful moment since the Hunger Games.

The avox comes back around, you quietly thank her and ask her to clean up Finnick’s plates. She doesn’t disturb him, clearly good at her job. You chew on the inside of your cheek while writing down different adjectives that could describe Annie and Marsh’s personalities right now.

Annie is quiet, she doesn’t speak unless it’s a dire situation or you’ve asked a question. She’s smart and trusting, she can work her way around problems and read into cryptic messages. She’s kind, you’ve seen the way she helps the others in the boarding school, but she’s easily deadly, the way she fights is completely mesmerizing. She’s the last person you’d expect to betray you, which is why she could easily have an advantage over a large alliance. People wouldn’t expect her to sabotage them.

As for Marsh, he’s nearly the opposite when he isn’t feeling anxious. He’s loud, he’ll easily let someone know what he thinks about them, especially if it’s not good. He’s strong, you’ve seen him pick up people twice his weight, but that doesn’t make him a good fighter, exactly. He wrestles pretty well, can get anyone into a position that’ll bring them to tears because of the pain. He smiles a lot, cracks jokes when he can.

You hum lightly, feeling it all come together. Marsh is fun, loud, he can make a show out of the interview. Three minutes would be enough to have the entire audience in stitches. It might even surprise the audience a little, since they always expect the careers to be brooding and quiet, always banking on their training scores. But if Marsh is constantly moving and interacting with the audience, they’ll be taken off guard.

Same thing with Annie, but she isn’t as naturally smooth like he is. She can be friendly and compassionate on stage, the complete opposite of deadly. The Capitol has been holding onto stereotypes for years, and the tributes have been feeding into it. Even you did the same, by promising your family that you’d come home. If Annie just acts as the definition of kind, she’ll be turning it around.

You write this all down, as well as some notes and starter questions that could test their act. You want them to completely avoid conversations about their scores and how well prepared they are. Their scores already say that about them, now it’s time for the citizens to see that they’re exciting.

Around noon, Elysia finally comes through the door. She barely spares you and Finnick a glance at first, but then she pauses on the stairs to take a look at him, “Is he sleeping?”

“Late night, apparently.” you look at her, “I’m ready to get started when you are.”

“Give me a couple of minutes.” she smiles, and then leaves into the hallway.

Unfortunately, this means that Finnick can’t sleep any longer. At least he got a couple of hours while it was possible. You lean against the table slightly, “Finnick.”

He doesn’t move, not even stirring. You wonder what else he took on top of the regular ‘fun’ drugs. Maybe he drank along with it, and knowing the Capitol, it’s not as dangerous as it sounds. You call his name again, but he’s still pretty out of it. A part of you wonders if he’d actually care letting the tributes see him in such a vulnerable state. But if it were you, you’d hope that he’d wake you up.

You slide out of your chair, letting it scrape against the wood floors. You grimace at the thought of touching him to wake him up, you know for a fact that you hated it when your brothers used to do it. It took for that one time when you accidentally went overboard for them to realize that you meant what you were saying about it being a bad idea.

They tried to tell you that you’d never hurt them. But you had to emphasize that it wasn’t you that was waking up first, it’s the scared girl that spent an entire month in an arena that was trying to kill her. She’s going to come out offensive and on the move, you’re going to be right behind her.

Even reminding them about the time someone came up behind you after the games didn’t convince them either. It was right after the Hunger Games too, before the Victory Tour. Some idiot reporter came up behind you as a surprise, and it took half a second before the world went grey and you thought the reporter was the District Twelve boy.

And since in the Hunger Games, the only way to get home is to kill, you nearly murdered the reporter. It would’ve happened if it weren’t for your brothers, who took a hit in the process anyway. If you remember correctly, Mox came out with a bruised rib, which isn’t easy to do considering that he’s pretty much muscle. And you almost broke Reed’s nose, there was blood leaking from it for a good ten minutes afterward.

You guess that they were trying to give you the benefit of the doubt, but after a while, you’re just intentionally getting burned, you know? There’s only so much you can do for a person before you need to take their word for it. It’s fine if you’re not perfectly healed just yet. Time does not heal all wounds, some of them will be open forever.

You gently place your hand on Finnick’s back, rubbing it, “Hey, Finnick?” you try your motherly voice, but it still doesn’t seem to be working. Maybe he’s dead.

“Finnick.” you apply more pressure, hearing him take a deep breath.

His arms stretch out beneath him, head slowly raising. You back off, and run a hand through your hair on your way back to your place at the table. Finnick’s got red lines from his clothing across his face, eyes automatically in a squint. His eyebrows push together, looking at your first.

“What time is it?”

“Noonish.” you say, “Tributes are gonna come out in a minute, Elysia is back.”

“You just left me out here?” his nose scrunches.

“No, I actually sat out here the entire time.” you sit in your seat, and then frisbee the notepad across the table for him to look at.

He rubs his face, which is still twisted as he tries to read what you’ve written, “Creep.”

You roll your eyes.

As he reads, Elysia comes out looking more refreshed, “Tributes will be down here in a moment.” she joins you and Finnick at the table, “Am I starting with Annie first?”

“If you want, our plans go either way.” you say, watching as Finnick tilts his head, “What do you think?”

“It’s a twist.” he says, “I’m not sure how they’ll like it, but we can definitely try.”

“Everything’s worth a try nowadays.”

“Can I see?” Elysia asks, Finnick hands it over to her. She reads over it silently, a smile coming to her face as she nods, “Yeah, I think this’ll be good. I’ll try to work that into what we normally do.”

Elysia hands it back to you, Marsh and Annie come out of the hallway. They’re not dressed in anything fancy, not even in something that the stylists have picked out. Normally what the tributes wear are totally up to the stylists, starting from the tribute parade, to the training days, to the interviews. Today is the only day where you’re able to see how they want to be dressed.

Annie’s laid back, a pair of leggings and a loose tank top. She’s got her hair tied back, and gives you and Elysia a polite smile on her way over. Marsh is more casually dressed, jeans, a shirt, a pair of tennis shoes, his hair styled. It says a lot about personality and how they think.

“Good afternoon, hope you guys slept well.” you smile, and then give Finnick a side-eye. He’s not very amused.

“I definitely felt a lot better last night.” Marsh nearly skips down the steps, he’s a lot more confident now, “Since we have good scores, it’s hard to think otherwise.”

He takes his spot at the table, Annie takes hers, “I’m still nervous,” she admits.

You don’t have to say a single thing to her. In fact, Marsh seems to have it all handled this afternoon. He’s definitely had a change of heart. You finish eating, leaving the table to go down to the living room to rearrange chairs and set things up properly. It’s not long until your tributes are full and ready to get started.

“We’re taking Marsh first.” you click the pen, Finnick joins your side.

Elysia guides Annie towards her room, Marsh comes down to where you are. You motion for him to take his seat, which is opposite of the one that you’re sitting in. Finnick takes the role of audience, leaning his head against his fist. He’s got tired eyes, still not awake. You can’t really blame him.

“How do you feel about being in front of an audience?” you ask.

He hesitates, “Is this an interview question?”

“No, not yet.”

“Oh, well…” he thinks for a moment, “I mean, I don’t mind them. The parade wasn’t all that bad. But I think that’s because I was being compared to others, I knew I wasn’t the best or the worst out there.”

You give him a smile, “Well, we’re going for the best here. So, here’s what we’re going to do--”

It’s simple, and Marsh seems to understand it the first time around. No matter what happens on that stage, Caesar shouldn’t ever get the opportunity to make enough tension to ruin the light mood. Marsh needs to be confident, exciting, funny and relatable the entire time.

Which means that if Marsh needs to spend time lining up jokes, then he needs to get to it. You suggest jokes on the expense of District Four--or any of the districts, really--his family if he’s comfortable, and spin it. Make the Capitol look grand and amazing, like kings and queens compared to peasants. However, he needs to be careful not to make him sound sarcastic and overbearing.

There’s a whole list of things that Marsh needs to avoid at all costs; certain family topics, token significance, if he misses home, his training score, what he thinks of the competition, etc. He’s not at all allowed to give the Capitol enough information on him to run with. Tributes in the past have been mysterious, but mentors have combined it with brooding.

Marsh is going to be memorable, fun-loving. Caesar might even reference him in the future when it comes to seeing District Four tributes. What twist will the mentors have to give this year? Stay tuned to see, and if you blink too much, you’ll miss it.

And since it’s not really a coaching lesson without some practice, you and Finnick take turns drilling him. Marsh is clearly a natural at this, he starts off a little stiff, jokes dry and shy smiles. You had to tell him that he needs to stop looking at you as a mentor and as a Capitol citizen who is so unimpressed by how boring he is.

After that, he took it more seriously, and even had you and Finnick cracking up some of the time. Only a few times do you have to remind him not to go too hard on District Four, and how he barely scrapes by with questionable statements about the Capitol. In the end, he’s at a different standing point.

Elysia comes out with Annie, ready to trade. Annie’s flustered, standing at the top of the stairs. She must have done something inside of the room to get scolded, or maybe she was praised? You don’t care, you push Marsh up the stairs and let Annie take a quick snack break before you start the process over.

“Marsh’s interview is going to be a comedy skit.” you tell her once she’s sat down. You and Finnick have switched spots so that he can ask the questions, “We figured that you wouldn’t be as comfortable with a job like that. So, we want you to be as kind as possible.”

Annie’s eyebrows draw in, “If you’re trying to go for unique, you’re going to be failing with me. Plenty of people go for kind.”

“Not the careers.” Finnick says, “Careers always sneak in some aspect of dangerousness. You’re not going to, at all. You got a nine, but Annie Cresta is going to be a kind girl from Four who’s absolutely beguiled by the Capitol.”

A small smile is forming on your face, “You’re going to have to be an actress for three minutes on stage. Do you think you can do it?”

Annie gives a curt nod. Finnick’s smiling now too. You can’t launch straight into the interview, instead you have to give Annie a few pointers beforehand. She catches on quickly, just like Marsh. However, with her, she’s got the act down on lock, she doesn’t even need to be corrected.

And when Finnick alludes to her training score, she easily redirects the conversation somewhere else. Maybe it’s a compliment on the experts inside of the center, or maybe it reminds her about the food she’s eaten! Either way, Annie’s a brick wall, and not even you two can get through to her on the sneakiest questions.

At dinner, Marsh, Annie and Finnick are exhausted, you think that you’re starting to feel it too. Needless to say, it makes for a calm and quiet evening. Annie and Marsh pack it up and head to their rooms around seven, there’s not a single sound that comes from their rooms after.

You sit on the edge of a table next to Elysia and Finnick. You’ve got your arms crossed, Elysia has her fingers perfectly laced in front of her, and Finnick is rubbing under his eye.

“Tomorrow’s the big day.” Elysia says, “I think that you two will be able to sleep in and get up later on, since the prep team will have them.”

“We still have to get up with enough time to dress nicely. Sometime in the afternoon, then?”

“That’ll probably work.” Finnick says, you watch as he twists the loose rope on the bracelet into small loops big enough to slip his pinky through.

You tilt your head up towards the roof, eye following the cracks along the ceiling, “Are you busy tomorrow night?”

“After the interviews?”

You think you can see a stain on the ceiling, a faint red color, like someone scrubbed the ceiling, “Yeah.” you look back at him.

“No, I don’t think so. The festival knocks out anything that would happen.” His eyes find yours, abandoning the bracelet, “Why?”

Elysia shifts on her feet, “Do you need me for anything else?”

“Uh,” you pause for a moment, thinking. You don’t think so, tomorrow you’ll probably have trouble sleeping past ten, so you’ll be up and doing something. The interviews always have you nervous, no matter how well prepared your tributes are. And as always, this year is no exception, “I don’t think so. I’ll find you if I do.”

She looks at Finnick next, who gives her a slight head shake, “Goodnight, don’t exhaust yourself.”

The last sentence is directed towards you, “Goodnight, Elysia. Thank you for your help today.

She leaves, giving you and Finnick privacy. His eyes are back to being trained on your face. A part of you wonders if you should even bother with an offer like this, you’re sure that he would much rather stay here, or go wherever he used to when the festivities came around after the interviews.

You know you used to shut yourself in your room and be absolutely quiet. Quiet enough to hear every single thing that would happen outside of your door, sometimes extended to the living room if Elysia, Laurel and Pleurisy were gathered together. You couldn’t handle it. The night before the games is always the worst, it makes your chest ache at all the second thoughts that had run through your mind.

The what-if scenarios, the thousands of possibilities of what the arena could look like. The different ways you could die. Would it be in the bloodbath after one small mistake? Would it be by the hands of your allies after realizing they were stupid to invite a fifteen year-old to join them? Would it be by your former ally and friend, Finnick, to get you out of the way?

Even trying to project the image of you winning the games didn’t work. You were overwhelmed and anxious and completely unknowing of what your future would be. You didn’t want to end up like all those other kid tributes that end up dead after a few days. You didn’t want to make the same mistakes that you used to make fun of back home.

You can’t imagine how that’s going to go for Annie and Marsh, who volunteered to be here. You know you would be regretting it about now, especially since they’re so close to the cut off age. They could be back home, with their families. But they’re here instead, about to be thrown into an arena to fight for their lives.

This apartment is a cage to tributes, you’re lucky that it doesn’t extend the same way to victors.

“After the interviews, the group and I normally go and hang out around the festival.” you uncross your arms, placing them on the table behind you to lean back, “We eat at a nice restaurant, I normally watch them get drunk. You can come with, if you want.”

Finnick doesn’t say anything, face relaxing for a moment. Maybe he thought you were going to say something else? You stop leaning against the table, “You don’t have to go. They’re not your friends, I just thought I’d offer.”

“Why do you go out with them?” he asks, eyebrows drawing in, “You don’t seem like the type to go out there anyway.” he presses his lips together, “Actually, you don’t really intermingle with the Capitol unless you really have to.”

A couple of things come to mind, one by one. The first one is that Finnick has obviously been paying attention to you over the past couple of years. He just gave that away with telling you how your own mannerisms are. However, he clearly doesn’t follow you that closely, because you go out a lot more when you have the time. The other mentors are a getaway when you’re feeling particularly in your head.

The second thing is how his whole demeanor seems to have changed after you told him he didn’t have to. Maybe it’s because you’re backpedaling, but it’s not because you don’t want him there. You know that you’ve been taking up his time over the past couple of days, which has been conflicting with his needy Capitol schedule. You wouldn’t blame him if he just wanted to be alone or something.

The third is how he’s redirected it to you, not answering the question. Normally people will assure you that they’ll go or they have plans before asking you something like this. You don’t want to say he’s getting defensive but it’s hard not to.

Your voice is a lot quieter, a lot softer than you expect to come out, “They’re my friends, Finnick. And they make me feel normal again.” you squint for a moment, and then let out a sigh, “If you don’t want to go, you could’ve just said so. Forget I said anything.”

You slip away, Finnick doesn’t say anything. When you get back to your room, you silently peel off your clothes and get dressed into something more comfortable. You have a feeling that you’ll sleep pretty soundly tonight, considering how exhausted you are. You drop your ring into the small bowl on the bedside table, and then roll over in bed until you’re comfortable.

--

You wake up a little after ten, but don’t leave your room until eleven. The dining room is empty, your tributes have already eaten and are experiencing their own version of chaos inside of their bedrooms with the prep teams. Who knows where Finnick is, after what happened last night. And Elysia is probably off with Pleurisy and Laurel since she has the free time to, and you told her that you wouldn’t need her at all this morning.

You don’t eat much, a little hung up over how you left things last night with Finnick. It’s hard not to think about it, and the mistake you made with your choice of words. Not only did they come out more mean than you intended, but you’re also pretty sure you just ruined whatever progress you’ve made over the past week.

You don’t know if you can stay inside of the apartment all day today. It’ll still be a few hours before Annie and Marsh are ready to be brought to the stage. Until then, you can just disappear and come back in time to go. You decide to go with this, heading back to your room.

You shower, let the machines take care of your hair. It goes from wet and tangled to dry and smooth. You take your time with styling it, after being with Beth for this many years, you’ve learned a thing or two. A majority of your hair is out of your face, you’ll be sure to let it down later. Sometimes during the interviews, the cameras will pan to the mentors or stylists depending on the question.

You brush your teeth while finding what you want to wear. A pant suit could be nice, but you have a feeling that Laurel is already going to go down that path. Still, you can’t help but to run your fingers over the beige and white fabric. The only other real option you have is a dress, but they’re tricky and there’s certain rules you have to follow when wearing one.

You settle for the suit, carefully putting it together one item at a time. White high-waisted underwear that doesn’t show the seams through the pants, a matching bra. You go with a v-neck white shirt, since it’s not going to be seen after the blazer is buttoned. The slacks just barely stop at your ankles, you pull out new white heels that don’t go super high.

In the bathroom, you think you look sophisticated. You think that you might even keep your hair up the way it is, since it doesn’t really matter anyway. You apply the silver jewelry that you think will go with the outfit, and spare a lot of rings so that you aren’t clunky.

Makeup is the hardest part, so you end up calling Leo to come and help you. He’s impressed with the way you look, and works quickly so that he can get back to Annie. By the time you leave the apartment, you’re practically skipping in confidence. You take the elevator down to the lobby, a place already in mind.

Coincidentally, your friends are already gathered in the lobby. Cashmere notices you immediately, a smile spreading over her face. The others look over too, but Wade isn’t as thrilled as the rest of them. They’re dressed just as nicely as you are, you guess you just caught them on their way out too.

“Hey! Long time no see.” Cashmere greets, you snort and settle between Gloss and Enobaria.

“Hey, what are you guys up to?” you smile.

“Pre-gaming.” Gloss says.

“Pre--huh?” you look between them, they let out a small laugh, “The interviews are that torturous for you guys?”

Enobaria nods, “Yeah, I’m tired of sitting through them.”

“Can’t blame you. So, you’re going out to a bar?”

“Something like that.” Gloss says, “Want to come along?”

You tilt your head, giving him a face, “I am not going to drink.”

“Then don’t!” Cashmere grins, “You coming along is going to be good enough. We’ll be back before the tributes are done.”

“Promise me.” you point at her.

She uses her finger to draw an x over her heart, “I promise.”

“Alright, let’s go then.”

They cheer, you laugh and follow behind Enobaria and Wade, making a line with the Ritchson siblings. They place you between them so that you’re more included, and this way they won’t be tempted to fuck with each other. The last time you all hung out before the interviews--or anything important, for that matter--they had to have a last minute costume change because there were rips and dirt smeared everywhere.

Unlike them, you’re wearing light colors, so you’ve got to be extra careful when it comes to touching anything. Gloss and Wade are wearing black, Enobaria’s wearing a dark maroon dress, and Cashmere has got a muted purple dress. You guess that Cashmere’s going to have to be careful too because the purple is kinda light.

They’re all pretty animated, fairly loud when they’re excited. You go along with conversation--which really doesn’t have a range. It can be about Enobaria’s boyfriend drama back home, or how Cashmere had to scold her tributes over their training scores. And since she started that topic, you decided to go ahead and ask questions about it.

“They were supposed to be prepared!” Cashmere rolls his eyes, picking at her nails slightly with a frown, “They told me that they’d been working hard in the gym and I believed them. The one year I try and slack so it doesn’t seem like I have a stick up my ass, and this is what I get.”

You breathe out a laugh.

“I’m serious! The tributes are always calling us names because of how strict we are, and then shit like this happens. It sucks that it takes a problem to prove to people that you’re right.” she looks at you, “Congrats on your tributes scoring nines, though. I can’t imagine how happy you guys were.”

“Extremely.” you say, “It’s fixed how they’ve been thinking for the past week, so thank heavens for that.”

Gloss shrugs one shoulder, you look over to him, “I bet we’ve lost sponsors.”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous--” Enobaria glances over her shoulder at you three, “--they could’ve scored ones and they’d still end up with plenty of sponsors.”

“She’s right.” you say, shaking your head, “You have nothing to worry about. I’ll be lucky if we even get a couple since we’re not with you guys this year.”

“Which is a bummer, I like hanging out with you.” Cashmere sighs, she twirls a ring of her blonde hair around her finger before letting the curl drop. She looks at you, “We’ll still be friends no matter what happens in the arena, right?”

“Our tributes have killed each other plenty of times, Cashmere. And still, here we are.” you give her a smile, and then share one with Gloss, “You’re my best friends… except for Wade, he’s an asshole.”

He glares over his shoulder, he’s the exception to the group laughter that follows after your statement. It’s his own fault that he’s alienated. You’re half-surprised that he didn’t leave as soon as you showed up at the lobby.

Enobaria leads you all to an expensive bar, you vaguely remember going here before. It was only once, you think. And it’s because of the prices, the alcohol here is strong and expensive. You come here to get drunk, not to dance around the idea of being tipsy. Although, you wouldn’t think that initially.

The entire bar is made up of two colors: a gentle pink color, and pure white. Straight out of some sort of fantasy. And despite its expenses and the fact that it’s the day of the interviews, it’s full of people. For a moment, you’re sure you guys will have to be put on some sort of waiting list, with no empty seats visibly available. But Gloss knows the person at the door, and you all get led to a special room in the back.

Which looks nothing like it does out there. Sleek black couches, dark hardwood floors, minimalistic lamps and succulent plants on tables. There’s one clock on the wall, and absolutely no windows. Enobaria pulls the door shut behind her.

You sit on the second couch, the one that faces the tv better. With you sitting flush against the arm, Gloss sits on the other end. There’s still plenty of space between you two, so you stretch out enough to be comfortable. When you’re done, you’re still not touching him.

Cashmere picks the standing up menu off of the coffee table, flips it open and sits back. Enobaria sits next to her, turning on the television, which is defaulted to Claudius and Caesar. A part of you wonders if the people here watch anything else. They could have hundreds of channels, and yet they default to the news? Wade sits by himself in a distant chair, one leg crossed over the other.

If he’s trying to appear older than he is, all he’s doing is looking like an idiot. It’s going to be hard for him to redeem himself after the show he put on a couple of days ago. Talk about being classy.

“You guys hungry? Looks like they serve food.” Cashmere says, passing the menu to her right, Gloss takes it.

You lean into him, nothing really sparks your interest. Besides, you just ate, “I’m good.”

“Well, I’ll take whatever the hell a ‘Ritchson Siblings’ is.” Gloss says, face scrunching, “Why did they have to use our last name?”

“I bet it’s probably some fruity drink.” You smile slyly, earning glares from both of them. Enobaria’s laughing under her breath.

“I’ll take one too.” Cashmere says, taking the menu from Gloss, and then passes it to Enobaria.

“Do they have a Golding special?” She jokes, and then her eyebrows raise, “Oh shit, do they have all of us? Mine looks like a Bloody Mary.”

You lean forward, hand outstretched, “Give me the menu.”

“I thought you didn’t care.” Gloss teases, you mock him slightly, earning a laugh.

Enobaria hands over the menu, allowing you to get a good look at the menu. At the top is the name of the bar, which explains it all; The Victory Speech. Under it is a fine print on how the drinks are supposed to get you blackout drunk so that you don’t remember anything. And when people get shitfaced, they tend to talk about things they’re not supposed to.

It’s cleverly designed, they switch colors every year. This year’s theme is to support the female victors. When you ask about this, Cashmere says: “Misogyny.” And that practically sums it up.

Anyway, you go down the list. Victors before the fiftieth Hunger Games have a section called ‘Old Timer’s’ because they’re all over the age of sixty at this point. Under this section is Mags and Luther since they’re both pretty old. But it’s vague, and they don’t really name names.

However, after the fiftieth games, it starts with names. Haymitch’s is called ‘Blackout’, and you can’t imagine what that entrails. For all you know, there could be a fucking roofie to ensure you don’t surprise. It probably tastes like literal acid and poison. But knowing the Capitol, they likely found a way to make it taste enjoyable.

Anchor’s is called ‘King of the Sea’ but you also remember people calling it ‘The Sailor’. The drink is twenty different shades of blue, and the foam on top makes it look like the ocean. The ice is in shapes of boats, fish and tridents to make it as appealing as possible.

Enobaria was right about hers looking like a Bloody Mary. It’s blood red, but it doesn’t look like it has tomato juice, more that the alcohol itself is red. The ice in hers is milk white, and you recoil at the thought of it. The title to hers is ‘Bloody Mistake’.

Cashmere and Gloss share their own with ‘Ritchson Siblings’, which isn’t a very fun name, considering all the ones before theirs. If you were to retitle, you think you’d go with ‘Infamous’. The Capitol absolutely loves the hell out of them. Their combined drink is yellow, but it’s shimmery in the picture. And you were right about the fruit, because the fruit is the ice.

And then it’s you and Finnick, separate names and drinks but it’s tied together with a special font that says ‘Complementary!’ and right beside it is a discount offer if you’re ordered together.

His is called ‘Prodigy’, probably a jab at his age when you guys won. It’s completely see-through, you’re not even able to see a chunk of ice in the picture. It comes with a silver trident that sticks out of the cup, blades up. On the end of the points is a lime. The drink is likely brutal if it has an offer of a chaser.

And yours is called ‘Traitor’, which you can’t even be surprised about. It’s clever marketing though, because the appearance is a light blue, with white foam on top. The alcohol is shimmery too, the ice cubes shaped like fish. Sticking out the top is a gummy palm tree, you think. You just know that it’s going to be strong-tasting.

Finally, the last one that you least care about is Wade’s. The moment you read the name of the drink, you’re cracking up. You then remember what his personality was like in his interviews, which was full of intellectually big words to impress the audience and make him look smart. The name is probably the biggest insult, ‘Know-It-All’.

It’s a lime green, there’s chunks of something inside of it, you can’t tell what. Maybe it’s flavored ice? There’s no way to find out unless you actually drink it, and you think that you’d pass. Besides, the name alone is a dead giveaway that this one is going to be strong too. It’s probably a good representation of the whole bar, actually.

“Maybe I will have a drink.” You snort, holding it out for Wade to take. He silently slips it from your fingers and flips it open to read.

“That’s the spirit!” Enobaria says, grinning.

“Oh, great.” Wade rolls his eyes, folds the menu and tosses it on the table, “I’ll pass.”

“Kid needs to learn to loosen up.” Gloss mutters.

“I’ll go and get the drinks.” You push your rings back into place, “What do you guys want?”

“I’ll take my special.” Enobaria says, and Gloss and Cashmere agree on their own. It takes some convincing, but Wade eventually comes around to the idea of taking one of the older victor’s drinks.

You don’t really need to jot it down, so you promise them that you’ll be back in a moment and slip out of the room. The main room is a nice between of loud and quiet. You can hear the private conversations of others, but just barely.

And it seems as if it’s only gotten busier since you first came here. Must be a popular place to go before certain events. You can’t imagine what it’s going to look like after the interviews. Probably packed from front to back, and you can imagine them transforming it into some type of club. It’s got the capabilities of doing so.

You move your hair behind your shoulder, leaning up against the counter while you wait for the bartender to come around. You’re not the first here, and it doesn’t look like you’re going to be the last. If you were to take a guess, you think that The Victory Speech is going to empty out when the interviews come around.

As you wait patiently, playing with one of your rings, you feel a gentle pressure against your lower back, and then feel the presence of someone. Before you can turn, the person is leaning in, “Hey, what are you doing here?” It’s Finnick, and he’s speaking directly into your ear.

You look over your shoulder to see him leaned in close. He’s dressed as nicely as you are, and it looks like you think the exact same way. He’s in a brown suit with a white undershirt. Your eyebrows draw in, one of you will have to change this evening, unless he doesn’t mind matching with you.

You’re about to answer, but your eyes find that he’s got quite the audience that’s watching him. You wonder what he’s here for, and if it concerns any of these people.

Either way, you shrug slightly and try not to be too bothered by where his hand is, “I’m with Gloss and them since they wanted to drink before the interviews.” You give him a little smile, “I’m getting the drinks, do you want to join us?”

Finnick doesn’t answer your question, “Are you sure you should be drinking?” He asks, as if you’re the irresponsible one here. With him avoiding your questions, you must have done something to set him off like this.

Nonetheless, you shake your head, and turn so that you’re halfway facing him. Because of this, his fingers ghost your waist and he has to rethink his hand placement. He goes for your arm now. Why is he so touchy all of a sudden?

“I’m not drinking.” You tell him.

“What can I get for you?” The bartender asks. You give him a smile, listing off the drinks that everyone agreed on. Finnick doesn’t move, patiently waiting. The bartender leaves, but you know that he’ll be back around.

“You should be at the apartment.” Finnick says, there’s a slight frown on his face.

“Doing what?” You ask, face twisting, “Waiting for the tributes to be done? Why aren’t you there?”

He doesn’t get the chance to answer, you’re being interrupted. The bartender tells you that a waitress will come around to the back room to give you and the others your drinks. After that, you know for sure that he won’t be coming back.

One last time, you look at Finnick, “Coming or not?”

Finnick watches your face, pressing his lips together for a while, and then says: “Not.”

“I’ll see you later, then.” You say.

His arm drops, allowing you to go. You give him and the crowd one last glance, suddenly feeling weirded out that they’ve watched you the entire time. You get a couple of steps in to leave, and then stop. He said that he didn’t have anything to do today, didn’t he? Or did you only ask for after the interviews?

You turn slightly to see that Finnick hasn’t stopped staring yet. There’s a look on his face that you can’t shake. A secret message? Wordlessly, you find yourself extending your hand for him to take. This seems to be what he wants, face relaxing and fingers gliding against your palm. You squeeze his hand, pulling him along. He needed an escape, that’s why he approached you.

You bring him around to the back, free hand reaching for the doorknob when the door opens. Gloss is at the door, laughing at something the others must’ve said. He gives you a bright smile, “Hey guys.” and moves on without really acknowledging Finnick.

“Heading to the bathroom?” You ask.

“Yeah, I’ll be back in a minute!” He says, and then disappears.

You bring Finnick inside, he gently closes the door behind him. Now that he’s safe in here, you feel comfortable enough to let go of his hand. The other three victors in here are already leaned forward, making comments about what’s happening on the screen.

“Hey, Finnick.” Cashmere says, giving him a quick look, “You’re gonna have to sit on someone’s lap.”

“Gloss.” You and Enobaria say together, immediately laughing afterwards. Even Wade cracks up, rubbing his face slightly.

“I think I’ll pass.” Finnick says, you take a seat in your original spot, and then pat the arm of the couch, “Or you could try and squeeze between me and Gloss.”

He goes ahead and takes the arm of the chair. Gloss comes back a few minutes later with the waitress. She serves the drinks, Gloss pays for it all, and then you’re free to drink and watch the Capitol tv until you want to go.

It turns out that the drinks all taste different, with Enobaria’s tasting sweet with the aftertaste being sour. She ends up liking it enough to keep drinking. Cashmere and Gloss are obsessed with the fact that theirs tastes like cotton candy and french vanilla. The fruit that’s floating in their drinks are miracle berries, which turns anything sour into something sweet and sugary. Wade thinks his tastes like peppermint and chocolate.

You pick up yours, the Traitor, “This is going to be horrible.”

“You don’t know that.” Cashmere says, but even she looks apprehensive.

“Thought you said you weren’t going to drink.” Finnick says, you give him a look and hold up the glass for him to take, “This isn’t what I meant.”

“Too late, you dug your grave.” Enobaria sips on hers, already used to the sour taste.

Finnick sighs and takes a gulp of it. Then, his face twists and he holds out the cup as if there’s something wrong with it. You raise your eyebrows, “What’s the matter?”

“It tastes like saltwater.” Finnick says, and even smells it to make sure.

“Bullshit.” You take a sip of it, and find out he’s right. The salt aspect isn’t all that overpowering, thankfully. But it does taste like water, “Huh.”

You pull out the sour gummy palm tree, taking a bite out of it to find that it’s practically flavorless too. You’d bet all of your money that people tend to mistake the drink for water and that’s how they end up hammered. You smell it too, expecting it to have at least some aroma, but it’s bland. You set it on the coffee table.

“I think that one sip for each of us is enough.” you laugh, Finnick does too.

“It’s probably a painless way to get drunk.” Cashmere says, leaning forward, “Can I?”

“It’ll be you who gets alcohol poisoning.” you motion.

The drink gets passed around, with everyone being surprised that you two weren’t lying about it. By the time it’s back on the table, it’s almost gone. Cashmere shares her drink with you, but you’re very light when it comes to sips. Not because you’re afraid of ending up making a fool of yourself, but because the sugary aspect of the drink is making your teeth and the back of your throat hurt.

While playing games with each other, mostly trying to get to know Finnick more since they don’t know that much about him, you all keep track of the time. The atmosphere inside of the room easily lightens up, Finnick relaxes enough to constantly have a smile on his face. Your mentor friends are charismatic enough to keep a conversation going and to keep it from getting tense.

Even Wade seems to open up too, but you’re fairly sure that it’s his drink that’s making him do it. Either way, you all end up in stitches, red-faced and wiping tears from your eyes. At least you know that Finnick isn’t mad after last night.

“I’ve finished my drink.” Cashmere says, pushing her glass onto the table, “It might be time to go.”

Finnick glances at the clock, you think it’s about thirty minutes back to the Tribute Center, “Yeah, guess so.”

You yawn, stretching your arms. It feels good to stand from the couch after sitting for so long. The others place their glasses in the middle of the table to make it easy for clean up. You dust your clothes off, pick up the door card that’ll say the room is dirty.

“So, was the matching outfits intentional?” Wade asks, leaning against the wall while you wait for the others to be ready.

“Actually no, we’re just psychic.” you give him a slight smile.

“Right.” he rolls his eyes, it’s quiet between you two for a moment as you watch Gloss try and fuck up Cashmere’s dress. She settles for punching him in the middle of his chest, “I’d like to apologize for what I said the other day.”

You look back at Wade, “Just be careful next time. You’re lucky it was me, otherwise you probably would’ve had your shit rocked by some other mentor. They’ve got pent up frustration, and they’d love to have a justified reaction like mine.”

The others start coming your way, you open the door and slip the door card on the outside handle so that a waitress can see that the room needs to be cleaned before it’s used again. You find Finnick towards the back, but end up pulling him to the middle after Enobaria and Wade start to lead you guys out.

You wrap your arm around his, “Let me repeat what I asked last night,” you look at him, “Are you busy tonight?”

His face falls slightly, “I’m not supposed to be.”

“And going to a restaurant might change that.”

“Going out in general, but if we can find a place like this one--with a closed door and a group then it’s less likely.” he frowns, and bites his cheek, looking away.

“Are you going to get in trouble for today?” you ask, he shakes his head.

Outside on the street, you can see that things are beginning to get busy. You don’t let go of Finnick, just in case something does happen. It’s a good thing that you’re with others, though, because again, they easily lighten the mood and have you guys giving soft smiles and some comments if it’s really needed.

You all have to split up in the lobby. You give gentle hugs and wish them good luck with their tribute’s interviews. Gloss and Finnick have their own kinda moment, which you quietly joke with Cashmere and Enobaria about.

“You’re lucky that Gloss doesn’t have a crush on you, otherwise he would have challenged Finnick for the alpha male status.” Cashmere says a little too loudly, which earns a nasty glare from him. Cashmere initially suppresses her laughter, but you crack up and it’s all over.

You and Finnick take the elevator up, deciding not to change what you’re wearing and just be matching for one night for nostalgia’s sake. You make it back just in time, with Elysia coming out of the apartment, face lighting up when she sees the two of you. She quickly readjusts some stuff on the two of you, but stands off to the side in the end to wait.

Marsh comes out with his team first, dressed in navy blue and black. He gives you guys a bright smile, and then laughs slightly, “You guys twinning on purpose, or--?” He trails off slightly, but it only lasts a second before he’s laughing, covering his mouth. You and Finnick must’ve had the same reaction.

Annie comes out a couple of minutes later, wearing a seashell pink dress. The bottom of it is layered so that it resembles the inside of a shell, with spiked shoes and pearls wherever the prep team could fit them. She shines in the light, and the red on her cheeks is to exaggerate blush.

“Absolutely stunning!” Elysia starts, which triggers the other prep team to follow in her suit. You give an approving nod to Laurel, who gives you a slight smirk.

“You two matching on purpose?”

“For fuck’s sake--” Finnick breathes out a laugh, punching the elevator button.

“I think there’s time to change.” Laurel says.

“We’re good, thanks.” you shake your head, heading inside of the elevator.

One by one, everyone crowds in. Five prep team members, Laurel and Pleurisy, Elysia, you and Finnick, and Annie and Marsh in front. Elysia presses the button to bring you all down to the base floor. All the tributes are already lined up against the wall, dressed in their own fancy ways.

You stop the tributes a little bit out of the elevator, “Look at me.” they do, Finnick stops beside you, “You’re amazing, your act is unique, you’re going to blow away the competition. There’s no doubt about it, so don’t even worry. If you two get nervous, we’re all in the crowd. Find your favorite and talk to them like they’re your best friend. Got it?”

They both nod, and you give them a smile, straightening up. Finnick speaks next; “Just remember that you’ve already shown them you’re good at fighting. Now it’s time to show them that you’ve got a winning personality, and you do.”

“Take deep breaths, guys. You’ll do fantastic.”

Sitting in the crowd with the rest of the Capitol is always a weird feeling. You cross your legs and lace your fingers together while you wait for the room to fill. They���re always going to be nervous, it’s just what they do with it that matters the most.

“Do you guys know any restaurants that’ll have closed doors?” Finnick asks, leaning over.

You give him a look, “Finnick, we’re victors. All you have to do is whisper it and they’ll get us a private room. You have nothing to worry about, I promise.”

He smiles, “As long as you promise.”

The tributes come onto stage, allowing everyone to get their first looks at the competition. Some tributes are dressed more expensively, others are loose and laid back. Annie and Marsh are pretty much the standard when it comes to dressing up for the interviews. They represent their district in some aspect while also looking like themselves.

Caesar starts off with a few jokes to get the crowd in their regular mood, and then he’s introducing the girl from District One. You silently pick apart their personalities, she’s sexy and dangerous, and the boy isn’t as smooth when it comes to instincts. He nearly trips over a small crack in the stage, it’s a dead giveaway why he scored so low.

The girl from Two is bright, with big smiles and animated talking. She seems genuinely interested in conversation, you’d like to say that she’s going for a nice aspect, which will totally flip inside of the arena. The boy is brooding and quiet, hardly opening up at all. He’s absolutely huge too, bigger than Finnick for sure.

District Three isn’t all that important, they’re geeky, shy and stutter a lot when they try and answer. When Annie is introduced, she gives a cute smile and stops next to Caesar, and from the very beginning of her interview to the very end, she’s got the Capitol absolutely wrapped around her finger. So much so that the tributes behind her are rolling their eyes, fed up with it. At the very end, she curtsies and gracefully takes her seat, crossing her legs and leaning back smugly.

Marsh walks up with a wave and a grin. His first few jokes don’t land properly, but it doesn’t discourage him. His eyes find you and Finnick, you give him an encouraging smile. After that, he seems to find his footing, eyes occasionally coming back to you two if he needs reassurance. Once again, he’s swept the entire audience away, they want more when his time is up.

When he sits down next to Annie, he holds his fist out, and she bumps hers against his.

The end of the interviews come around quickly, and since neither of them have allies, they don’t have a reason to mull around the floor talking to others. You give Cashmere and them a wave before the elevator closes, and then suddenly everyone’s buzzing all at once over your tributes.

Annie immediately flushes red, Marsh taking all the compliments like a champ. There’s assurance that they’ll be remembered for a while because of their acts, and how there’s absolutely no way that they didn’t gain traction. Tonight, the attention is probably placed on them and their new perspective on interviews.

Dinner is loud and lively. Tonight’s meals are delicious and filling, but you and Finnick eat scarcely because you’ll be eating out with Enobaria and the rest of them in an hour or so. The avoxes bring out a giant three tier cake modeled around District Four. When Elysia takes the first slice, candy pearls fall out of cake, all varying colors. You guys go ahead and watch the interviews one last time, pointing out details you hadn’t noticed before and cracking up at Marsh all over again. Needless to say, they’re pretty proud of what they’ve done today.

Annie and Marsh part with whatever tokens they want inside of the arena. Laurel, Pleurisy and the prep teams hug them goodbye. Although, the stylists will be the only people seeing them tomorrow. You, Finnick and Elysia are left with the tributes, and you have a faint sense of deja vu. You’ve been here plenty of times before, after interviews with two tributes that you’re too fond of.

But unlike before, these two are special pearls.

Elysia is the next to say goodbye, eyes a little watery like they are every year. She’s not allowed to wish them good luck, or say anything nice. She mutters out the insult that she’s required to say, and then disappears into the apartment.

It’s up to you and Finnick to finish off strong.

“We’re on your side.” you tell them, “We’re always working behind the scenes to pull strings. Look for hidden meanings in things.” you fidget with the engagement ring, “You can always change your mind when it comes to allies. The careers offered you a place the other day, but we turned them down. You can use that to your advantage, if needed.”

“If you find yourself in sticky situations, act on your instincts and worry about the repercussions later.” Finnick says, “Sometimes it’s better that way, but not all the time. If you’re unsure of anything, it won’t hurt you to change. Whether that be eating, drinking, finding a place to stay--any of that. If a situation feels weird, then it is weird.”

“Find water first.” you say, opening your arms. Annie’s the first to take the hug, you squeeze her shoulders tightly, “Remember, these are your games. You decide the outcome here.”

You hug Marsh too, “Go to bed, order herbal tea if you have trouble falling asleep. You’ll need every wink you can get.”

“Thank you for everything.” Annie says.

“Thank you.” Marsh echos.

You give them a smile, “Thank me when you come back.”

“Yes ma’am.” Marsh jokes, him and Annie go up the stairs and to their rooms.

You let out a deep breath of air, pressing the heel of your hand to your head, “There was so much more to say.”

“It’s okay, (Y/n). You said so yourself, they’re smart.” Finnick elbows you slightly.

“I know.” you calm yourself slightly, and then stand up straight, “Alright, let’s go before they think we’ve ditched them.”

“Can’t wait to have a second dinner.” Finnick snorts.

“Get ready to pop some buttons.” you grin cheekily, “And maybe make a fool of yourself.”

--

REDAMANCY IS PART 2 OF A TRILOGY //MASTERLIST//

add yourself to the TAGLIST

@f1nal-g1rl / @starlight-selene / @neenieweenie / @amixedwitch / @acatalepsyy

[hermannsthumb]

Hermann preparing for date night with Newt by selecting where to eat solely by what he has a coupon for. Or, ya know, frugal connoisseur Hermann. <3 ksci

inspired by a convo re: the fact that ksci @k-sci-janitor likes to make fun of me for never letting a coupon go to waste even if it means walking like 2 miles in the cold to use it :/ like im gonna NOT get a free Baja blast. (there is one small little allusion to some M rated stuff towards the end in this)

-------------------

It’s not a rare occurrence that Hermann will treat Newt to dinner when the mood of dining out strikes them, but the point is that he’s doing it in a way that’s supremely…shifty tonight. Well, maybe not shifty. Weird? For one thing, he didn’t tell Newt where they were going until they were already on the bus headed there, for another, it’s their sharing-a-lab-anniversary, which tradition dictates they evenly split a bill (even if the origins have more to do with both trying to show up the other and take advantage and order the most expensive shit on the menu). The weirdest thing is definitely that, when Hermann got up to pay the bill five minutes ago—a small, folded piece of paper clutched in his hand—he left his wallet laying next to his wine glass on the table.

Newt stirs his straw around in his cup of soda, clinking ice cubes against the sides, and squints at the wallet. Did Hermann bring cash to pay with? He could’ve stuck some in his pockets without Newt seeing, or his bank card, even, which would explain the forlorn wallet. Or maybe forgetting the wallet was totally an accident, and he’ll be back in a few seconds to pick it up and pay for real when he realizes. That’s probably it.

When Hermann comes back to their table, though, he doesn’t bother with his wallet—he takes his seat, picks up his wine glass, and tips it at Newt. “That was quite lovely, wasn’t it?”

Newt hums. “It was.”

“I quite liked the fish I got,” Hermann says.

“I loved my noodles,” Newt says. “We should try to copy the recipe back at the base.” He sets his straw delicately on the table. “How’d you pay without your wallet?”

“My wallet?” Hermann says. He makes a show of catching sight of the wallet, arches his eyebrows in mock surprise, and picks it up. Here we go. “Oh, goodness. Did I forget this? Well—it’s not as if I needed it…” He tucks it neatly into his inner jacket pocket.

“Hermann,” Newt says, rolling his eyes. “What’d you do, get a hundred-percent discount by reminding them we saved the world a few months ago?” Hermann shakes his head, and takes a long sip of his wine. “Did you write a check? Did you pretend we got food poisoning or something?” Hermann shakes his head again, and this time, his mouth begins to creep up into a smug smile. Newt remembers the piece of paper. “Dude. You got us a fucking Groupon. No wonder you were being so weird about what I was ordering!”

(“I think we ought to stick with the entrees labelled B, Newton,” Hermann had said, flipping a page forward in Newt’s menu. “They look—er—far better.”

“More expensive,” Newt had said.

“What’s it matter? I’m paying.” Hermann had pointed at the noodle dish Newt had ended up getting. “Look, I reckon you’d like that.”)

Hermann finally grins triumphantly. “I did—and saved us quite a decent from our ‘date night’ fund. Pity it didn’t extend to dessert, I suppose, but we could always find some ice cream at the commissary later.”

Newt can’t even pretend to be exasperated. The noodles rocked. And they would’ve rocked even more if he knew that Hermann was saving them a few bucks. “You’re such a weirdo,” Newt says, shaking his head, though he’s mirroring Hermann’s grin. “Is that why you picked this place?”

“Not entirely,” Hermann says. He takes a long, slow sip of his wine. “Mostly I picked it to make a point.”

“About?”

“About my being right.”

Newt sighs. Only Hermann would dredge up old arguments on Lab Anniversary Night. It wasn’t even an argument, really—all that happened was that Hermann asked Newt to hand him his glasses cleaning cloth from his parka, and it took Newt almost ten minutes because Hermann’s pockets were so jam-packed with a million little coupons for everything from granola bars (which they can get from the mess hall for free) to mouthwash (which Newt can snag from the commissary, also for free, whenever they need it) that he couldn’t find anything but. A majority of them were expired. Then Newt remarked on how Hermann was nuts, and Hermann remarked on how Newt didn’t understand the value of making smart financial decisions, and they went back and forth for a bit like that. This was a whole week ago, too. In terms of Newt and Hermann arguments, that’s more than ancient history. “Are we really talking about the fucking coupons now?” Newt says.

“Frugality pays off,” Hermann says, cryptically. “Now we really ought to head out. The forecast is calling for rain, and I don’t fancy getting caught in it.”

They get caught in the rain anyway. Newt invites himself over to Hermann’s bunk to dry off, because Hermann bought a space heater back when they were stationed in Russia, and it travelled with him here to aid through the long nights of overpowering A/C. Right now, it’s aiding Newt through stripping out of his wet clothes. When he’s down to just his boxers, he snags the quilt from Hermann’s bed, and waits for him to finish up in his little en suite bathroom to hopefully catch a hot shower. One of the unexpected side effects of the world not ending and most nonessential personnel leaving the ‘dome in doves is that they almost never run out of hot water anymore. Newt can take a shower at midnight and not freeze his ass off. It’s awesome, really.

Hermann emerges from the bathroom in a dorky little pair of pajamas, a dressing gown knotted at his waist. “Oh, Newton,” he sighs, and prods at Newt’s blanket cocoon with his cane, “not my grandmother’s quilt.”

“I’m dry!” Newt says. “Mostly!”

He gives up the quilt to Hermann and ducks into the bathroom to brush his teeth. He stuck a spare toothbrush in the medicine cabinet at some point, for when he was too sleepy and lazy after makeout sessions to go back to his bunk, and sure enough he finds it alongside a suspiciously generic-looking tube of toothpaste. It doesn’t even have a label. He doesn’t think much of it until he starts to use it, which is when he immediately gags and begins to rinse his mouth out with hot water. “What the hell is this toothpaste?” he chokes out. “It tastes—awful.”

“Ah,” Hermann says. He ducks his head into the bathroom, looking a bit sheepish. “Well. I found a coupon for that brand, and I know it’s not very, er, pleasant, but—I saved forty percent, Newton.” Newt continues to rinse his mouth out, this time adding some mouthwash into the mix. “Oh, really, now you’re just being dramatic. It’s only toothpaste.”

“Dude,” Newt says. “I feel like I just rubbed, like, acid cement all over my gums.”

“Ah,” Hermann repeats, guiltily.

A bit later, Newt goes in to kiss Hermann goodnight as they settle into Hermann’s bed together, but pulls back with a sad little pout when Hermann merely flinches away from him. “Oh, Newton, I’m sorry,” Hermann says, quickly wrapping his arms around Newt and kissing his neck. It softens the blow somewhat. “It’s that bloody toothpaste. You still smell like it. You’re right, it’s rubbish.”

“Tell you what,” Newt says, grumpily. “I’ll buy you a brand new tube tomorrow. My treat.”

Newt mostly forgets about the coupon thing for a bit. The odd little item crops up in the lab that makes him roll his eyes fondly at Hermann, but nothing as major as the Groupon or toothpaste. Hermann’s preferred tea brand swapped out for something Newt’s never heard of in a flavor that Hermann clearly detests, if his face when he drinks it is anything to go by, for example, the chocolate digestives Hermann keeps in his desk replaced with plain ones, his new box of chalk all in a salmony shade of pink and weak enough to snap apart under his fingers if he presses down too hard on his chalkboard. When Newt asks about the changes, the answer’s always the same: Hermann had a coupon for them, or they were less expensive than his usual. Newt just wishes he could understand where this sudden bought of thriftiness came from. It’s not like it was back during the war, where they had to pinch pennies and save in every area they could if they wanted to supplement their nonexistent funding. They’re actually getting paychecks now, on behalf of the UN’s guilty conscience! They have free room and board! They even put a few neat bucks away from some (heavily-redacted) interviews they did back in late January.

What Newt’s getting at is Hermann doesn’t have to limit them ordering out sushi to only places with free delivery on date nights, or skimp on his pizza toppings (four-topping down to two) so they can use a better coupon, or buy any of those subpar teabags or digestives or toothpaste tubes. But he just…is.

The tipping point occurs on a Saturday night about a month after the Groupon incident.

“Nn. Hermann. Do that again.”

“Do—?"

“Yeah.” Newt groans, turning his head to the side. “Oh, shit.”

“Newton—” Hermann kisses his throat. “Newton, you’re—”

“Wait.” Newt pauses. “What is that?”

“Oh, er.” Hermann pulls his hand away. “You mean the—the—?”

“Yeah. It feels…weird.” He frowns. “That is not what we used last time.”

“Oh. No. It isn’t.” Hermann clears his throat. “Well, Newton—see—we were out, so I thought I’d—I’d buy a larger bottle, to last us longer, and I happened to find a coupon for this lovely—er—gallon-sized—”

“You’re kidding,” Newt says.

“Only I thought it was a very frugal purchase,” Hermann says. “We do tend to, er, burn through it rather quickly.”

Newt rolls away from him. “Dude. We need to have a talk.”

Some brief amount of time later, they sit together on the end of Hermann’s bed, clad in their pajama bottoms and, in Hermann’s case, one of Newt’s sweatshirts. Newt waits until Hermann meets his eyes blushingly before he proceeds. “What is up with you lately?” he says. “You’ve been acting so—weird. Weirder than usual,” he amends. “Since when have you cared about saving a couple bucks on random shit like pizza?”

Hermann fidgets, and sighs, and finally reaches to pull open the drawer of his nightstand. He retrieves a piece of paper folded into quadrants, and for a wild moment Newt thinks it might be another Groupon. “Oh, I wanted it to be a surprise,” Hermann says. “I was going to wait until it was all finalized—but it’s close enough now, so I suppose there’s no harm in it.” He thrusts the paper out at Newt, and Newt—still wondering if it’s not another Groupon—unfolds it with surprise to find what looks like a flight itinerary. Two tickets for Hong Kong to Boston, with a short layover; then two more tickets a week after they land for a short trip from Boston to some town in Maine Newt recognizes as being seaside. They’re made out to Hermann Gottlieb and Newton Geiszler and purchased a little over a week ago.

“You kept telling me you wanted me to meet your father,” Hermann says, and rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “And—I thought it might be nice, to have an—er—vacation, for a few days. We’ve certainly earned one. And it’s not as if we have any truly pressing obligations at the moment that can’t be put on hold for a week or two. I was planning on booking us a little cottage up in Maine—or maybe just a hotel room, I hadn’t decided—but we don’t have to if you don’t—”

“And you’ve been saving up for it?” Newt interrupts.

“For a few months now,” Hermann says. “Since February, in fact.”

“And that’s why…?”

The tips of Hermann’s ears turn red. “Every penny helped,” he says.

Newt carefully re-folds the itinerary, sets it aside, and then kisses Hermann soundly. It would be safe to say that Hermann’s thoughtful, romantic moods tend to be on the spontaneous side, probably as spontaneous as they are in Newt, so when one strikes Hermann (and in such a perfectly Hermann way as this one) Newt doesn’t like to take it for granted. “Of course I wanna go on vacation with you,” Newt says. “You rock. Seriously.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Hermann says, looking pleased.

[elentiyawhitethorn]

Sneaking Around | Chapter Nine

All of the next week passed without any problems. Aelin prided herself on being responsible, especially in the workplace, causing her not to summon Rowan to her office and lock the door. Damned responsibility.

It was now officially one week from Christmas. Work was out until after the holiday. This was Aelin’s favorite time of the year. Now some of the office gang was gathering at the bar at the end of Friday to celebrate this exciting fact. Lots of other employees had had the same idea, and Ansel was very busy. Lorcan was also excluded (that’s what he gets for working at a gym). Elide, Gavriel, and Manon were working late. Lysandra and Aedion had gone to get drinks and failed to return. Shocker.

Vaughan had just gone to the bathroom, and at this moment, Fenrys and Connall, the bastards, made an announcement. “Rowan,” said Fen, “we have a surprise for you.”

Connall continued, “You haven’t been in a relationship for, like, years.” Aelin, the only other person at the table right now, snickered at this. That is, until she tried to figure out where this was going.

Fenrys spoke again. “And so, we have arranged a date for you.”

Rowan, quite understandably, looked utterly shocked and quite a bit horrified. “Um, no.”

Connall winced. “Now, hear us out. Of course you’re angry. But. She’s hot.”

“Very hot,” added Fenrys.

Rowan scowled. “I don’t need your help getting a girlfriend, thank you. Stay out of my love life.”

“But dude,” Fenrys pleaded. “She’s a family friend, and she’s totally looking forward to her date with my lovely coworker. That’s you, by the way.”

Rowan didn’t even bother looking sorry. “I am not going on an arranged date. I can’t fathom why you would tell this woman I’m just going on a date with her. Did you seriously expect me to agree to this?”

“Okay, see,” Fenrys was pleading now. “You totally owe me-”

“For what?” Rowan intervened.

Ignoring him, Fenrys continued. “And she would be really upset if I didn’t pull through. You know, she’s not going to be in town for long. You could just put up with one date, maybe screw her, and you’ll never have to see her again.” Men. Aelin needed new friends.

Rowan sighed. He was pointedly not looking in her direction. “I suppose I feel a little bad now, but I am not going on a date with her.” Aelin could tell from his tone he didn’t feel bad at all.

Connall scowled. “Dude, what, do you have a secret girl or something?”

Rowan almost imperceptibly stiffened and didn’t answer the question. Aelin had frozen as well. Connall’s glare deepened. “Yeah, right. Don’t pretend you’re getting laid just because you don’t want to go on this date. Doesn’t work on me.”

Connall’s stupidity relieved Aelin (he wasn’t the brightest), but she lost all relaxation when she glanced over at Fenrys. He was staring at her as Connall continued to pressure Rowan into agreeing to the date.

Aelin raised her eyebrows in a What? gesture.

Fenrys just stared, until a smirk began to spread across his face. Hell no.

At the sign of Aelin’s panic, his grin grew. Fuck. She gave a slight shake of the head and prayed Fenrys had more compassion than Vaughan would in this situation. Or Lorcan. Or Lysandra. Yes, she definitely needed new friends.

Just as Aelin started thanking the gods for Fenrys’ kindness when he looked away and seemed to drop that revelation, he said, “I seem to recall winning a bet last week, Rowan. Your payment was, if I recall correctly, one favor of my choice.”

Rowan froze once again. Aelin tried not to sigh. “What the hell did you bet on?” asked Aelin in her most amused, but also I-totally-don’t-really-care voice. Fenrys seemed to have figured out what was going on with them, but Connall probably wouldn’t connect the question to anything important.

Rowan did sigh. “I don’t remember. We make so many bets.” Idiot men.

Connall sneered. “It looks like you have to go on the date. And be pleasant; she doesn’t deserve to be scowled at all night just because you’re grumpy.” Aelin, despite herself, snorted at this.

Rowan casually glanced at her and she gave a small shrug. He still hesitated. “I will go on the damned date if I really must, but are you sure you don’t want to spare me? Please, dudes?” Okay, maybe Aelin should be annoyed or jealous or whatever it is normal people feel in situations like this, but she could only bring herself to find it hilarious. She couldn’t help the chuckle that slipped out of her as Rowan continued begging.

Rowan turned and glared at Aelin, then put his gaze back on the twins. “What’s her name?” he asked the boys.

“Remelle.”

And that is how Rowan got roped into a date that was not with his sort-of girlfriend. Aelin laughed again.

-

“So,” said Fenrys, who insisted on walking Aelin to her apartment hours later. Neither were in any state to drive, she and Fen lived near each other, and Rowan didn’t want to risk being spotted with her on the way out. “You’re fucking Whitethorn,” he stated.

Aelin snorted. “Yep.”

Fenrys grinned at her. “I have a few questions. Like how long? And why?”

Aelin giggled. She’d certainly had a lot to drink. “We’re dating. Well sort of. I mean, we’ve gone on dates. And we’re in like. Like in love except it’s like, not love.”

Fenrys chuckled. “You’ve both seemed happier recently. Although we all knew you had some secret lover.”

Aelin giggled again. Beer really did wonders for her. “You’re not nice, though. You didn’t have to make him go on that date when you found out.”

Fenrys seemed quite a bit more sober than her. “I couldn’t help myself. Payback for not telling me.”

Aelin rolled her eyes, almost getting disoriented enough at this to run into the nearby streetlight. Fenrys grabbed her before she could bash her nose in.

“Did you get me all drunk so I’d spill the beans?” Aelin asked.

Fenrys chuckled. “Darling, you got drunk all by yourself.”

Aelin sighed. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Fenrys smiled fondly at her.

-

Fenrys had dropped Aelin off at her apartment and headed to his own. The rest of the walk hadn’t consisted of much questioning, which surprised Aelin at first, but when she thought about it, Fenrys always had his motives.

She was now sitting at the counter the next morning, battling the effects of last night’s drinks; namely, a migraine.

Her phone rang. Aelin picked it up to see Rowan’s name on the caller ID.

“Yeah?” she answered quietly. Ansel was still asleep.

“I wanted to ask you if you’re sure you’re okay with the date. I didn’t have a chance to talk about it last night.”

Just hearing Rowan’s voice made her happy. She didn’t care if the subject of their conversation was some “very hot” woman he was going to have dinner with.

“I’ll admit, it’s pretty weird. If she’s just going to be here for a little bit, though, it’s fine if you get roped into it.”

She could almost feel Rowan’s scowl through the phone. “Um, no, not fine. Not anywhere close to fine.”

Laughing quietly, Aelin said, “You have to admit it’s kind of funny.” When Rowan did not seemed inclined to admit anything of the sort, Aelin continued. “And you had that coming. Who the hell bets favors? You out of cash?” He didn’t respond to this either. “Oh, Fenrys figured it out, by the way. We are damned awful at keeping secrets.”

Rowan sighed. “I can’t argue with that. What did he say?”

“Well, I was rather drunk at the time, but I seem to recall he wasn’t totally horrified or whatever. I doubt he’ll tell. There were surprisingly few questions.”

“Fenrys will be the death of us, I can assure you of that. So, anyways, from Connall I have gleaned that Remelle is hot, sexy, and totally cool. He’s probably exaggerating, but either way, you needn’t feel jealous.”

Aelin laughed. “I wasn’t planning on it. I trust you. If you do cheat on me, though, I’ll kill you.”

Rowan snorted. “I believe it. I won’t, though. Well, technically, is the date in itself cheating?”

“Gods, who cares? Don’t kiss the lady, come back and fuck me. As simple as that.”

Rowan chuckled. “Your wish is my command, Majesty.”

“Dweeb,” Aelin muttered.

They planned to meet tomorrow after Rowan’s date. He was to be polite, leave, and come back to his apartment where Aelin would be waiting. He called her overprotective for wanting to check on him immediately afterwards, to which Aelin just replied he had better WiFi.

Soon after hanging up, Ansel came out of her bedroom. “Calling your lover boy?”

Aelin glanced at the ceiling. “Lord save me. Yes, that was Rowan. I suppose I should fill you in.”

Ansel said after a moment, “Um, I think that’s your queue to say something, not just stand there looking mopey. Oh no, he didn’t dump you, did he?”

A snort from Aelin. “People don’t dump me, A. I’m too irresistible.” She sighed. “Rowan is going on a date.”

“Um, what, with someone else? Wait, but you two were so good together! The slimy bastard. Didn’t he realize you were supposed to be exclusive?”

“We’ve never actually discussed that. No, he’s going on a date the twins set up for him.” Aelin recounted the evening. Ansel was laughing so hard she could barely breathe by the end of it.

“Aw, honey, he’s a gentleman. You don’t need to be worried about him cheating on you.”

“What happened to slimy bastard? And I’m not worried, by the way. I laughed too when this happened. It’s just kind of weird. And Fenrys is lucky I was stone-cold drunk last night or I would have pummeled him.”

Ansel giggled. “I want to high-five him. This is great.”

“Whatever.”

Aelin had been so confident at first, but even though she didn’t feel any more doubtful, she still felt... nervous? No, jealous. Aelin was actually starting to feel jealous of some lady Rowan was probably wasn’t even going to like that much. Hopefully.

At least this Remelle woman sounded nice. Nothing could go wrong there...

-

Aelin sat on Rowan’s couch. It was the next day, about time for Rowan to get back. She was partway through a bag of chips when the door opened.

She turned her head to see Rowan in the doorway. But he wasn’t alone. There was a very pretty woman standing next to him, clutching his arm and giving him a seductive smile.

[c4pricornc4ts]

The Minors Lunch Club (MLC for short.)

This is a Valentines day one-shot for intruxx <3

Characters: Tommy, Ranboo, Sam, Tubbo

Catagory: Fluff 

Words:2.1k 

For a MCYT writing challenge, join the writer’s block discord here!

----------------------------------------------- It’s a very on-brand thing for Tommy to do- leave getting his friend a gift the day before Valentine’s day. He kept putting it off because he wasn’t sure what to get Ranboo. He has hybrid friends, but Tubbo was easy. He and Sam had taken a break from the hotel to make the boy a small bee necklace that he knew he’d love. 

Endermen were a whole new category. What did enderman hybrids even like? He hadn’t talked to Ranboo much unlike Tubbo. So he was really at a loss for ideas. Are there items that are offensive to give an enderman? He hopes Sam will know. Otherwise, he’s going to have to ask Tubbo and he really doesn’t want to get laughed at. 

Sam doesn’t laugh, even if Tommy knew the question was ridiculous. He wasn’t used to that. 

“What do endermen like?” He’s gathering more wood for the hotel, Sam somewhere behind him. 

“What are you setting up some kind of… enderman trap?” 

He throws his axe down, splitting another log. Trying to keep his focus on his work, embarrassed to admit the truth to Sam. 

“No- I don’t know what to get Ranboo for tomorrow. And I don’t think he’d appreciate me trapping his cousins.” 

“Yeah you’re right, don’t tell him about Philza’s hardcore world then.” Tommy hears Sam shudder, his tail making a slight sound as it puffs out. 

“Didn’t plan on it Big S.” Tommy laughs and cuts through another trunk. 

“Just get him something he likes, we hybrids aren’t that different you know.” 

“That’s the problem! I don’t know what he likes. We barely talk, but Tubbo went and invited the guy to our lunch and now I need to find him something.” He tosses the logs into their wheelbarrow and pushes it towards Sam’s pile to collect his as well. 

“Okay then, get him a grass block or something. Better yet, let him pick. Y’know?” 

“Your ideas are shit, Sam.” He hopes Sam can somehow hear a “thank you” in that insult. Because Tommy just got the best idea ever. “I’ll drop all this off, then I’m off to build something else. I’ll see you tonight yeah?” 

“See you then, good luck with Ranboo. The only way you could mess this up is by giving him water so just- don’t do that.” The creeper hybrid goes back to the rest of the trees as Tommy pulls out his silk touch shovel and gets to work collecting grass blocks and a few other blocks just in case Ranboo likes variety. 

He tucks his new blocks away into his inventory and goes towards the main path of the SMP. 

With how far everything has gone, can he even call this the main path anymore?

He goes into the abandoned Walmart that Tommy for the life of him can’t remember who built it and starts arranging the mostly grass blocks into different piles and sections. Adding a small pile of sand and some smooth stone he mined with a silk touch pick for a little variety. He can’t have a store that only sold one thing, it was bad for the economy. He reasons. 

Once he was finished he went to Sam’s house to find something to make for dinner. He and the creeper hybrid had a deal, he does dinners and Sam lets him stay in the spare room while the hotel is being built. Though he knows Sam doesn’t actually care if he does it, he just wants Tommy to feel like he’s earning his stay. 

He appreciates it. He’ll never say it out loud but he appreciates all the little things Sam does for him. Maybe he’ll try being nicer to the man tomorrow. 

Probably not. 

He tears into his baked potato after wrapping Sam’s in some tin foil before running up the stairs to his room. Tomorrow he would drag a hopefully excited Ranboo to an abandoned Walmart and make the best second impression ever. 

------------------------------------------------

Once he’s dressed and double-checks he has Tubbo’s gift in his inventory he pulls out his communicator to message Ranboo. Leaning against the front door. 

You whisper to Ranboo: Hey, meet me outside Sam’s house, I want to show you something. :)

Ranboo whispers to you: Alright, I’ll be there by the time you read this message. 

Tommy reads the message again, trying to understand what it meant when he hears a small vwhoop and jumps a bit when he looks up to see a slightly disoriented 6’6” enderman hybrid standing on his front porch surrounded by purple particles. 

“I hate teleporting. But Philza says I need to do it more so here I am.” 

Tommy regains his composure as Ranboo straightens out his suit that Tommy can only assume got ruffled in the process. 

“You know, that whole teleporting thing would’ve been useful back when we were fighting for L’manberg.” Referring to L’manberg so lightly with anyone else would be impossible, but Ranboo’s absence from those days made it easier to joke about with. “What were you doing before you came here anyway?” 

“I don’t remember.” Ranboo looks away, Tommy silently berates himself for asking. He really didn’t want Ranboo to hate him. 

“That’s okay tall man! You’re here now and I’m stupid for asking.” He starts walking towards the Walmart hoping Ranboo would just follow. 

He does. “You’re not stupid, most people would remember. I just have beef with memories y’know?” 

“Beef with memories…? You’re gonna have to tell me about whatever that means later. But for now I gotta show you your gift.” 

“My gift?”

Tommy stops and turns to him. “Your valentine’s day gift! I thought you knew, why else would you just teleport to me no questions asked?” 

“I must’ve-” 

“Forgotten. Right. It’s no big deal, but what I’m about to show you inside of this broken down Walmart is.” He takes Ranboo to the entrance which is just the 2x2 opening not surrounded by broken glass. “Welcome to the enderman store! I made it myself because I am just so cool.” 

Ranboo immediately ducks under the doorway and starts moving the blocks around. “You aren’t very cool but this makes you at least 20% cooler.” 

“Does that mean you like it?” Tommy asks as he goes to stand behind the makeshift counter. 

“Of course I do! It’s like- like a block playground.” Ranboo teleports around the store and Tommy looks down because the sight of him appearing and disappearing was making his head hurt. 

“You pick one yet?” He plants his elbow on the counter and tries to give his friend a good impression of an underpaid cashier. 

“Pick one for what?” 

“As your gift.” He says it like it was the most obvious thing in the world but with the way Ranboo stands confused he supposes it wasn’t. “I mean, the whole store is your gift actually. But you gotta like, pick your favorite block or something.”

“That’s kinda stupid.” 

“Whatever, at least I’m not 6’6”, now pick your favorite grass block so we can go to Tubbo’s and show him how cool I am.” 

“Okay, I like…” He carefully considers the dirt for what? Tommy doesn’t know. Maybe endermen have a block grading system. 

He finally picks one of the many grass blocks in the corner and places it in front of Tommy. 

Tommy uses his communicator as a scanner and pretends to ring up the block. Ranboo just seems even more confused. 

“What? This is a store roleplay. I’m just keeping things realistic.” He pushes the grass block back to Ranboo who takes it and immediately holds it out in front of him. “The cost is teleporting Tommy to Tubbos because he’s lazy and doesn’t want to walk.” 

The taller laughs and Tommy climbs over the counter and clings to Ranboo’s arm bracing for the sudden movement. He closes his eyes and stumbles forward a bit when the hybrid brings them to Tubbo’s in under a second. 

He lets go of Ranboo once he’s sure he won’t trip and goes up to Tubbo’s door, instead of knocking he just let’s himself in. Rather he announces he’s here by shouting, “Big T! We’re here for lunch and I brought a very tall man with me. I think his name is Rainbow, not sure though.”

“Tommy it’s-” Ranboo is interrupted by Tubbo appearing from the kitchen, the fur coat he is usually buried in abandoned for a cheesy heart covered apron. 

“Ranboo! Tommy!” He runs up to them both with excitement, but he quickly tilts his head at the grass block Ranboo had brought in that was no doubt ruining his floor. Tubbo runs back into the kitchen and orders the boys to, “Stay there!” and when he returns he is carrying a planter pot with a little note attached that says, “To: Ranboo, From: Me :)”

“This is perfect, you can fill my gift with… wait did Tommy really give you fuckin dirt?” 

“No! I gave him a whole store of dirt you dickhead!” 

“I liked it.” Ranboo adds, trying to help Tommy’s case. 

“See Tubbo? He loves my gift, you are just a hater.” 

“Whatever.” Tubbo rolls his eyes and turns around, leading the other two into his kitchen. 

They take a seat and Tubbo places a basket of bread in the middle of the small wooden table. Tommy runs his hands under it to where he can feel the carvings of his and Tubbo’s name. They had built the table together, hell they had built most of the furniture in this house together.

Tubbo sits down next to Ranboo and places a jar of honey, no doubt from his own bees on the table.

“You know we should invite Purpled next time, then we can call it the MLC.”

“Call it the what?” 

“Y’know the minor lunch club! All the teenagers in one place, hopefully shit-talking the adults.”

“Tubbo can you-” Ranboo is interrupted by Tubbo, who was focused on what Tommy just said.

“We are not naming anything ‘Lunch Club’ ever, pick another name.”

“What? Why not?” He whined. 

Ranboo reaches over the table to grab the honey, knocking over the vase of flowers in the middle of the table. Tubbo pauses, he’s stood up, preparing to lean over and hit Tommy. 

“Tubbo I’m so sorry I’ll-I’ll clean it up.” Ranboo starts to go grab a towel when Tubbo tackles him and pretends to be mad. Tommy just sighs at the scene and goes to actually grab a towel before the water could ruin the table. 

“It’s valentine’s day and you’re fighting.” 

“It’s play fighting, it's a hybrid thing you wouldn’t get it.” 

Tubbo knew what he was doing, get Tommy mad so he’ll come over there and join them too. 

It works, Tubbo giggling as Tommy pushes him off Ranboo and shakes him gently. 

Tubbo headbutts him gently, careful not to actually hurt him. (It had happened once, Philza was not happy.) 

Tommy wraps his arms around the deer and refuses to stop hugging him, Ranboo takes the opportunity to get up and actually wipe down the table before going back to where Tommy was sitting against the door laughing holding a faux annoyed Tubbo. 

“Let me go Tommyyyy.” Tubbo whines, it’s muffled by the blond’s shirt. 

“No, you were mean to me and now I’m sad.” 

Ranboo sits down next to them and whispers “Clingyinnit.” causing Tubbo to laugh and Tommy to let him go opting to go mess with the enderman instead. 

“I am not clingy!” 

“He says, as he clings to Ranboo. His newest victim.” 

They finally get up, dusting themselves off, and go to exchange the rest of their gifts. Tubbo giving Tommy earrings with two purple disks on them. Tommy hands him the bee necklace and then Ranboo gives both of them a pig spawner. 

They go out and help Sam with the hotel for the rest of the day and when it’s dark outside they say their goodbyes and promise to come back tomorrow to see Tubbo’s new ‘project’ which the two no doubt means more nukes. 

It’s almost midnight by the time Tommy works up the courage to give Sam his gift. Walking up to his bedroom door and knocking gently. Fiddling with the letter he had made. He had no reason to be nervous, it was just a card to thank Sam for everything. He owed the man so much more. 

He had avoided giving Sam the card all day, but there was no turning back now. He supposes he could just run back to his room, pretend to be asleep when Sam goes to ask if he knocked. 

“Tommy?” Sam opens the door, yawning. Tommy had clearly woken him up.

He shoves the card towards the creeper hybrid and looks away as he reads it. 

Tommy can tell when he’s done because Sam murmurs an “Oh, Tommy…” before going to hug the blond. Who happily accepts it. 

“Your gift idea wasn’t shit, he loved it actually.”

“I know, I never have bad ideas.” Tommy can imagine the grin on Sam’s face as he says that and it’s enough to make him laugh softly. For the first time in a long time, Tommy finally takes a deep breath. Holding onto Sam a little tighter than maybe he should. Tommy’s tired of letting go. 

Neither of them ever want to let go. 

[sevenstarsinning]

Sweat

Ch. 1 - Ch. 2 - Ch. 3 - Ch. 4 - Ch. 5 - Ch. 6 - Ch. 7

Pure angst.

Chapter 8

That ‘yes’ was all it took to unravel the prince. He claimed you as his and you both agreed to giving things between you a chance. You’d been wanting this for so long it seemed unreal, but there was still something hanging in the back of your mind, Goku. You needed to end things with him and it weighed heavily on you.

Later that night you collapsed on the bed next to Vegeta completely exhausted from the entire day.

“You have a lot of stamina for a human,” he panted, body glistening with sweat.

You almost said it was thanks to Goku but caught yourself before the words came out. Your heart clenched at the thought of him probably still waiting for you to come back.

“What’s the matter, woman?” Vegeta asked, noticing how quiet you were.

“Nothing.” You shook your head, trying to ignore the ache in your chest.

“I’m not as dense as Kakarot. Tell me.” He pressed.

You sighed, “I still need to tell him.” You rolled over on your side to see his reaction.

“Then let’s go tell him.” His gravelly voice after sex was a little different. He was at ease, less irritable and definitely easier to talk to.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea with Kyla living there.” You nuzzled against him, craving his touch.

“What?! She’s living with Kakarot?!”

“Yeah, didn’t you know?” You peered up at him.

“No, when- why?” He was clearly surprised.

“Apparently Goku cares about people more than he should. She needed somewhere to go.” You shrugged, remembering how you felt when you thought they were fucking.

“Imbecile. He’s too forgiving for his own good.”

“He’ll be training tomorrow away from his house, I’m sure. You can talk to him then.”

“I really don’t want to hurt him,” you sighed, feeling like the worst person in the world.

In an uncharacteristic move, Vegeta placed his arm around you and kissed the top of your head, “Kakarot is resilient. He doesn’t stay down for long." 

His reassurance was helpful and it made you feel a little better, but you still dreaded breaking Goku’s heart.

The following day came and went and you didn’t visit Goku. Each time you got up the nerve to do it, you quickly talked yourself out of it. You knew the second you saw that sad face, you were going to break.

By the end of the week, you had put it off so long you were convinced you ruined any chance at even keeping a friendship with him. He deserved a better friend, a better mate, better everything.

"Woman, I can’t believe it’s come to this, but you have to talk to him. You’re miserable and I don’t like it,” Vegeta said during breakfast.

“Well, I’m sorry my mood is making you uncomfortable.” You snapped, not meaning to.

“That’s what I’m talking about. You need to fix this and get it over with.” He barely acknowledged the attitude, which was helpful.

“How has he been?” You asked, curious.

“How would I know?” He furrowed his brow.

“Because you train with the guy all the time?" 

"He hasn’t been showing up to train.” Vegeta glanced over at you.

“What? Why are you just now telling me?”

“Do you think I want to spend my time talking to you about Kakarot?” He scoffed and took the final bite of food on his plate.

“You’re right. Can you fly me to his house?”

“Fine, but you’re ending this today, no more avoiding it, no matter his state.” He finished eating and stood up.

“Okay, just take me there." 

The entire flight there was filled with worry and anxiety. You didn’t know he was ditching training and it made you feel even worse. You tucked your head beneath Vegeta’s chin as he flew. His arms tightened around you as you neared Goku’s house and you knew he was still worrying about the outcome.

He landed a few feet from the door and made sure you weren’t too disoriented.

You knocked on the door and waited, anxious and worried about what you might walk into.

When the door opened, you were standing face to face with Kyla.

"You two are assholes, you know that?” She shook her head and walked away, leaving the door open.

Vegeta’s body tensed, being around an ex was new territory for him.

“Just tell me where Goku is,” you said, stepping into the house.

“I don’t think you deserve to know that after what you’ve done to him,” Kyla said from the kitchen.

“Damn it, Kyla, just tell her so she can get this over with.” Vegeta snapped.

“You have no right making demands of me. Neither of you should be allowed near him ever again.” She walked over to the couch and sat down.

“I just need to talk to him, to explain everything.” You wanted to run up to his room but you weren’t sure if he was even there.

“Fine, I won’t stop you but you have to find him first. He left yesterday and hasn’t been back. He’s also not eating or training. Congratulations, you broke the nicest guy on Earth.” Kyla went back to watching TV.

Your heart slowly shattered as you processed everything she said.

You turned to Vegeta with tears already pooling in your eyes, trying not to let them fall. Vegeta picked you up and cradled you in his arms as he took off into the sky. He didn’t say a word and neither did you as he flew. It wasn’t that there was nothing to say, but there was too much and he knew that. The silence was helpful, but your heart ached and you wondered where Goku could be.

“I’ll find Kakarot.” Vegeta finally spoke.

He flew you home and laid you on the bed. Vegeta wasn’t the softest person, but he knew you well. On difficult days, he knew you needed three things: a mountain of blankets, snacks, and a comfort movie.

He brought every blanket from the hall closet and every last snack in your cabinets.

Once you had everything you needed, he took off in search of Goku.

Tracking him down should’ve been as simple as sensing the highest power level in the vicinity and flying that direction. But something was wrong.

Despite knowing he was close by, Vegeta could barely sense Goku’s energy.

Vegeta scoured the area, trying to hone in on Goku’s energy. He never thought he’d be searching for him just for you to break up with him. It was an odd arrangement he found himself in. 

Vegeta continued to search and lowered himself closer to the ground to hopefully better sense Goku’s energy. As he was passing over a nearby clearing he felt a spike of ki. He immediately headed down to the area and paused when he saw Goku firing small ki blasts at a fallen tree.

“Kakarot!” Vegeta shouted as he descended to the ground.

Goku didn’t respond or even glance in Vegeta’s direction. As he moved closer. Another small ki blast hit the tree.

“Is this where you’ve been? Wasting your energy on a dead tree?” Vegeta asked, coming to a stop in front of him.

Goku still didn’t acknowledge Vegeta’s presence and that was one thing the prince would not tolerate. Hate him, yell at him, fight him, but don’t ignore him.

“Kakarot, stop this and go back home. Don’t be ridiculous,” he snapped.

Goku remained silent and kept his eyes averted from Vegeta, which only served to annoy him even more.

“Damn it, Kakarot, you’re acting like a child.” He snapped.

“Then leave.” Goku said in a low voice.

“I came here because of her, she’s concerned.”

“Then why didn’t she come here with you?” His voice was rough. Either he had yelled too much or he hadn’t spoken in a while, both were uncharacteristic of Goku unless he was in the middle of a fight.

“Because I wasn’t sure where you were and I didn’t want to drag her all over to find you,” Vegeta said, crossing his arms as he looked at the shell of Goku that sat before him. It was like everything that made him Goku was gone completely.

“Tell her I’m fine.” Goku barely answered without a glance at Vegeta.

“Tell her yourself. I’m not running messages back and forth.” Vegeta was growing more annoyed with the pathetic essence of Goku that remained.

“It doesn’t matter anyway.” He shrugged, but even that was lacking it’s usual amount of shoulder movement.

“This is what you plan to do? Wither away until you’re nothing because she didn’t choose you?” Vegeta pushed, trying to bring out whatever emotion he could.

“Yes.”

“Kakarot, stop being weak, you’re acting like you lost your mate!” Vegeta shouted. His entire body tingled with energy ready to be unleashed.

But as he stared down at Goku, he realized something he hadn’t considered until then.

“Did you choose her as a mate?”

Goku finally broke the dissociative gaze he held on the ground, “yes." 

Vegeta couldn’t believe he didn’t see it before. He knew Goku wanted to be with you, but he didn’t know the full extent of his feelings. 

"Doesn’t matter. She didn’t want me as a mate.” He dropped his gaze again.

Vegeta was torn between telling you and keeping that part to himself as he considered his next move. As much as Goku drove him crazy, he was his friend and the person that consistently pushed him to reach new heights in power.

“You idiot, do you realize how stupid it is to choose someone as your mate before you’re sure if they want you as a mate? That’s how this happens! Look at you!” Vegeta powered up to super saiyan, hopeful it would snap Goku out of his haze.

“I thought she would- why doesn’t she want me as a mate?” Goku furrowed his brow in confusion.

“Why would she want someone so clearly feeble and pathetic?” Vegeta continued to push him, trying to get some kind of response.

Goku was silent for a moment before looking up at Vegeta and narrowing his eyes at him, “it’s you. You got in the way. She was almost mine before you told her how you felt.”

“You lose to me one time and this is how you act? Imagine losing to me over and over for years! I’ve had to accept that I may never surpass you!” Vegeta yelled loud enough to send the nearby wildlife scurrying away. “I’m not sorry that I took her from you… I’m glad.”

Vegeta smirked when he saw Goku stand, "because I spared her a miserable existence with you, Kakarot.”

Goku shouted as he powered up into super saiyan blue, his aura glowing and a snarl plastered to his face.

Vegeta transformed into blue and blocked the first round of punches and kicks from Goku. He came back with his own, knocking Goku back with ease.

“Pathetic, you’re not even trying!”

Vegeta had fought Goku more times than he could count, he knew his power level, he knew his abilities and fighting style. But in this instance he felt foreign. Every move, hit, kick, it was all lacking in it’s usual ferocity.

“Fight me!” Vegeta shouted, trying to force Goku back from whatever weakened state he was in.

Goku charged at him, all punches and kicks that didn’t even stun Vegeta. He had lost his will to fight and it was hard to witness, even for Vegeta.

When he charged at him again, Vegeta stepped to the side and hit him with a hard punch to the back. Goku landed hard enough to crack the ground beneath him.

Vegeta lifted off the ground and moved towards him, bringing his hands together in a stance Goku was familiar with.

As Vegeta charged up one of his deadly attacks, Goku looked up. He could see the reflection of the Final Flash in Goku’s eyes and he was doing nothing to stop it.

“You’re not worth the effort.” Vegeta broke his stance and the attack he powered up.

He knew it was Goku on the ground at his feet, but he didn’t feel like him. He was empty, broken, and Vegeta couldn’t bring himself to push him further into the darkness that was already seeming to engulf him.

“Get up,” Vegeta ordered. Seeing someone as strong as Goku get brought to his knees and left so vulnerable over losing a mate was eye opening. He knew it was painful from what he saw growing up with some of the saiyans around him. But seeing it up close and knowing that he was part of the cause made him weary.

Goku stood on shaky legs, battered and dirty from the short fight.

“Go home, Kakarot.”

Vegeta didn’t give Goku a chance to argue against him before he took off into the sky. The image of Goku beaten and broken was something he knew would stick with him. He knew you’d have questions when he got back and he wasn’t certain on which answers he’d give.

You were full of way too many snacks from your movie binge and still felt just as miserable. To top it off, Vegeta still wasn’t back and it was getting dark outside.

You crawled out of bed and began to pace. So many thoughts were racing through your mind.

Maybe he didn’t find Goku? Maybe he did? Or he got lost? Or they’re both lost? Your mind continued to race, jumping from one ridiculous thought to the next. Just as you were about to walk through the floorboards, the door opened and Vegeta walked in.

You crossed the room and jumped into his arms, relieved to see him. He hugged you back but you could tell something was off.

“What happened?” You asked, pulling away.

Vegeta sighed and pulled you to the couch to sit down. Your heart felt like it was about to beat out of your chest. Vegeta making sure you were sitting down before he spoke? Definitely not a good sign.

“I found him. He’s not doing well but he should be home soon.”

“What do you- wait, why are you dirty?” You looked at the blast marks on his armor and the dirt scuffing his cheek.

“I fought him.” He answered simply without explanation.

“You what?!”

“Calm down, woman, it’s not what you think. I was trying to get him to snap out of whatever was happening to him,” he explained, but it only left more questions.

“And what was happening to him? Is he okay?”

“His power is down, he can barely fight, and he looks awful. But he’s alive, that’s all I can really say.”

You could tell whatever Vegeta witnessed was bothering him more than he was letting on but you weren’t sure why.

“Did he say anything?” You were growing even more concerned.

“Not much. Not to me anyways. He may talk to you.” Vegeta was still holding back, preoccupied with his thoughts.

“It just… I knew it would hurt him but like this? He usually bounces back pretty quickly from bad things.”

“I don’t know what to tell you. If you want to go talk to him I won’t stop you but you should probably wait until tomorrow.” He stood and surprisingly kissed the top of your head before he walked down the hallway towards the bathroom.

“I’m showering if you want to join,” he called back.

Your mind was a dizzying array of questions, but a relaxing shower with Vegeta was something you couldn’t pass up and right now you wanted to be close to him. You followed him down the hallway to find he’d already stripped and stepped into the shower. You quickly rid yourself of your clothing and climbed in with him.

In a blur of movement, he had you pulled against his chest with his lips pressed to yours.

You allowed yourself to get completely lost in him, pushing away as much of the worry as you could.

“I missed you.”

Vegeta smiled slightly against your lips and lifted you into his arms. You wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck.

“I was only gone for a few hours.” He kissed his way down your neck.

“Still missed you.” You mumbled as he nipped at the soft skin beneath your ear.

Vegeta’s touch was softer, gentler, than before. His fingers didn’t dig deep into you, his teeth didn’t bite and scrape at your skin.

“Vegeta,” you whispered, desperate to feel more of him. He pulled back, intense gaze centered on you.

“What’s wrong?” You asked.

“Nothing, woman.” He buried his face in the crook of your neck.

“Tell me. Please?” You wrapped your arms around him.

He grunted in response as he kissed down your chest.

You knew it was better not to push him to talk but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something more happened with Goku.

“Vegeta, please?” You tried one more time.

He growled and lifted his head. “I don’t want to talk right now, I just want this.”

His admission made you even more worried about what else had happened. Something was off and it was killing you to see how much Vegeta was affected. You decided to drop it and just enjoy the moment with him.

You pulled him into a soft kiss, needing to feel his lips against yours as you wrapped yourself around him tightly.

He kissed you back and let you cling to him as long as you needed. It almost seemed like he needed it just as much but that wasn’t like Vegeta at all.

“Thank you for finding him, I know that wasn’t something you wanted to do,” you whispered.

“Enough about Kakarot, woman.” He lifted you slightly and eased his cock into you.

He was actively avoiding the subject and trying to distract you in the process. Which he was doing a great job at. He pressed you back against the wall and set a slow pace of fucking you.

In the short time you were with Vegeta, he had never fucked you that slow. His cock slowly dragging against the walls of your pussy felt perfect.

“I used to think about you fucking me against the wall all the time,” you moaned.

“I’ve thought about fucking you on every surface that exists.” He said as he continued his slow ministrations.

You leaned forward and nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck, licking and nipping your way up to his jaw.

Vegeta dug his fingers into your thighs while he held you up, using your body as a distraction for the thoughts running rampant through his mind.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of your cock,“ you said close to his ear.

"I plan on finding out if that’s true, woman.”

A harsh thrust took your breath away and forced his cock deeper.

Vegeta made good on his word, he fucked you through a few orgasms there in the shower before carrying you to the bedroom to continue. He laid you down on the bed, never breaking contact with your lips or your cunt. He seemed almost too eager to be close to you, but you weren’t complaining.

“More… Vegeta…” You moaned as his cock hit deep within you.

“Your stamina rivals that of a saiyan.” He growled against your neck.

“Only because I’ve wanted you for so fucking long. I lost count of how often I made myself come thinking about you.”

He growled in your ear and started fucking you harder.

“Does my prince find that hot?” You moaned between harsh thrusts.

“Yes.” He said through gritted teeth, clearly getting closer to his own release.

You tilted your hips up to meet him thrust for thrust. He growled and grunted against your neck, sweat covering both of you as he drove into you.

You raked your nails down his back and clenched around his cock as you let go again, falling into the blissful haze of your orgasm. A few more snaps of his hips and he finally came, his cock twitching inside of you.

He pulled out and settled on the bed next to you, panting and sweaty. You scooted up close and pressed your body against his side, hugging his muscular arm.

“Ask me whatever it is you’re dying to ask about what happened with Kakarot so we can move on from it,” Vegeta sighed.

You hesitated, not wanting to ruin the time you had together, but the question still remained, what happened with Goku that impacted Vegeta so much.

You turned over on your stomach to face him. He looked beautiful laying there, bare chest on display while he put his hands behind his head. The way his muscles rippled beneath his skin never failed to make you weak.

“I just need to know what happened with Goku to make you act so different.”

“If I tell you, there will be no follow up questions, understand?” He glanced over at you.

“That doesn’t seem fair.” You knew you’d have more questions.

“Agree or drop the subject.” He closed his eyes.

“Fine, fine. Just tell me.” You were annoyed, but at least you’d get one answer.

“Kakarot chose you as his mate.” It rolled off his tongue easily, but hit you hard.

“He… he what?” Your chest tightened. You didn’t even know all of the details about choosing a mate but you knew it could have detrimental effects on a saiyan’s psyche if they lost one.

“I said no questions, woman. He was stupid for doing it without knowing you were his,” he said, keeping up his usual attitude towards Goku.

“What did you say to him? Did you-”

“No questions!” He snapped.

You scowled at him before coming up with a solution, “fine. I’ll just assume you consoled him. Held him in an embrace and told him it was going to be okay. You’re such a good friend." 

"That’s not what happened, woman!” He turned over to look at you.

“I wouldn’t know. You won’t tell me. I can only assume.” You shrugged.

“Assume all you want, I’m done talking about Kakarot,” he grumbled, sliding out of bed.

You remained there for the rest of the night, mulling everything over. By the time Vegeta came back to bed, you were half asleep and too groggy to still be mad at him for his reaction.

He scooted closer to you than usual and draped an arm over your waist.

You froze at the realization that Vegeta was possibly cuddling with you. You shifted to see if he moved after noticing he was touching you, but he didn’t move. He actually nuzzled his face into the back of your neck and grunted.

You drifted off to sleep with ease. Each time you briefly woke up throughout the night, he had a hand somewhere on you like he was paranoid you might disappear.

The following morning, you woke up alone. It wasn’t a surprise, Vegeta was adamant about training most days but you hoped he would take the day off with you after everything that happened.

It was tempting to go find him and bring him back, but there was another saiyan that you needed to see. Anxiety already formed in your stomach as you made the decision to go see Goku.

You got dressed and headed for Goku’s house. You had no idea what to expect but what you saw was not even remotely close to any possibility you had in mind.

You knocked and when the front door opened, Goku appeared. Only it didn’t look like him. His hair was a complete mess and he looked pale and gaunt. His sweatpants were too loose around his waist, only staying up because of the drawstring. It was as if he lost himself and all that remained was the broken down hollow shell of the goofy Saiyan you fell for.

“Hey… ” You said, feeling the dam about to break and send tears streaming down your face.

Goku paused for a moment, taking the sight of you in. He looked you up and down and you could have swore you saw his lip trembled. Instead of one of his usual happy greetings, he grabbed you abruptly and hugged you to his chest.

[majesty-madness]

Warm Water (Arthur Morgan x Reader)

https://tenor.com/view/arthur-morgan-red-dead-redemption2-gif-12884898

Summary: While their relationship isn’t very new, Y/N realizes the lack of intimacy between her and Arthur. She feels like Arthur is hesitating so she makes the decision to try to show him exactly how she feels. 

Word count: 4800+

Warning: Cursing, fluff, nudity, light sexual themes

It was an incredibly slow day. The sun that seemed to rise then immediately set was prolonging it’s stay in the great blue sky.

It didn’t help that there was nothing to do around camp. The laundry was already cleaned and hanging up, dishes were piled neatly onto a table saved for later, Pearson was not currently preparing any meals for the day, and most of the men had gone out to hunt or collect more money.

Camp was silent. All except for the crackling coming from the nearby fire pit.

Y/N sat quietly by that fire with a book propped in her lap. The novel was opened but not being read, Y/N had gotten bored and opted for staring at the orange-yellow flames of the fire.

Unbeknownst to Y/N, a brunette had noticed her intense fascination with the fire and tapped her shoulder.

The contact caused Y/N to jump and Abigail pulled her hand away. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare ya.”

“No it’s okay, I was miles away.” Y/N replied, finally closing the book that had remained open without being touched for who knows how long.

Abigail scoffed as she sat down next to her. “I could tell.” The y/h/c picked up on the scoff.

“I’m just so bored! The day just seems to be going on forever.” She exclaimed, throwing her arms in the air.

“I know what you mean.” Abigail chuckled, deciding to also stare into the flames.

There was a moment of silence between the two women as they sat near the fire pit, admiring the warmth while simultaneously being repulsed by its close proximity.

“So, how have things been between you and Arthur?” Abigail suddenly asked, interrupting the silence.

Y/N sighed and looked to the ground. Abigail turned her gaze, a knowing expression on her face. “That bad?”

“No.” Y/N quickly defended. “It’s just-” she paused.

“Just what?” Abigail inquired.

“It’s just… it’s been seven months, and there still seems to be this wall between us.”

Abigail bobbed her head up and down in a slight nod and leaned back away from her lap. “I see.”

“I mean it’s not like he won’t talk to me or that he’s avoiding me or anything like that, but when I try to be more physically affectionate he-... Well, I feel like I make him uncomfortable and it breaks my heart.”

Abigail smiled. “I really don’t think that’s the case.”

Y/N scoffed this time. “What makes you say that?”

Abigail explained. “Arthur’s been through a lot, I’m sure you know that. He’s opened his heart up to people, and was shot down by the ways of the world we live in.”

Y/N knew what Abigail was talking about. She knew Mary had broken his heart and he continued to put up this metaphorical wall to keep anyone from getting too close. Who could blame him really. Though Mary wasn’t the only one who hurt Arthur. Two other names came to mind.

Eliza. Issac.

The mere thought of their names brought tears to her eyes.

It wasn’t their fault though. They were ripped away from Arthur by the barrel of a gun. It was their deaths that made Arthur realize the real cruelty of reality.

Not many people in the gang knew about Eliza and Issac and the fact that Y/N knew meant that he trusted her despite the lack of intimacy in their relationship.

“But you don’t make Arthur uncomfortable. I see that everytime he looks at you.”

This caused Y/N to look back up to the mother sitting next to her.

Abigail continued. “I’ve known Arthur a long time, and I have never seen him as happy as he looks when he’s with you.”

Y/N smiled.

“I know it’s hard for him to be close to someone, but it’s because he cares for you that he doesn’t want to make a mistake.” Just then there was the sound of horses and chatter approaching the camp.

Abigail and Y/N turned to see that most of the men had come back. Arthur had come back.

The brunette stood up from her spot and started to walk away but before she got far, she turned her head to look at Y/N. “I think you should tell him how you feel and maybe...maybe he’ll open up a bit more.” And just like that she walked away.

Y/N sat and thought for a minute then looked up. Her eyes shifted to admire Arthur’s tall, stocky frame, he was currently talking with Pearson.

She watched the way Arthur carried himself, one knee bent as he stood to show he was comfortable being casual at camp. The way he scratched at the stubble growing on his face from where a beard used to be. The way his lips curled up into a smile as he made a joke about Pearson. The way his laugh reverberated from his throat into the open air. The way he did anything really.

Oh, she was so hopelessly in love with him.

A smile had found a home on Y/N’s features as she sat there staring at the man she loved. Abigail was right, she should tell him how she felt. At least that would get things out in the open and they could discuss where to go from there in their relationship.

The y/h/c hopped up from her spot trying to look casual as she walked over to Arthur who was still talking to Pearson.

“Come on, Arthur.”

“I just got back and now you want me to head back into town for food?” Arthur rhetorically asked, the annoyance palpable in his tone.

“We’re running low on supplies.” Pearson added.

“So go get it yourself.” Arthur retorted. Y/N giggled at his snarky remark.

Arthur whipped his head over to see his girlfriend standing there with a smile on her face. He hoped she couldn’t see the blush on his cheeks.

“Please Arthur? You’re the only one who’ll actually get what I asked for. All these other fools waste money on things we don’t need. Besides, it won’t take long. Ten minutes tops.” Pearson continued to beg.

“I don’t-.” Arthur started but was interrupted by his significant other.

“Why don’t we both go?”

Her suggestion surprised Arthur. Usually, he was the one to ask if she wanted to go into town with him for supplies. Not the other way around.

“You wanna go into town?” Arthur questioned, continuing to hold his unlit cigarette between his fingers.

“Why not? I mean it’s not like I hate going into town.” Y/N paused before adding. “And I’m bored.”

Y/N nearly fainted when Arthur chuckled at her response.

He stood there silently for a few seconds as he thought it over, though Y/N knew she had already roped him in. She knew him too well.

“Arlight, fine.” Arthur huffed then threw his cigarette to the dirt ground.

“Great! Let me go put this away then we can go.” Y/N grinned running off to toss her book back into her tent.

Though Arthur tried to be annoyed, he was secretly glad that Y/N had suggested the idea.

Spending time with her made him forget what he was, what he had done in the past, and that he was an outlaw through and through.

That’s what scared him.

He would fall so deep into every moment he spent with the woman he loved that the dangers that constantly followed him around drifted from his mind, but the world did not forget.

The world always remembered and would remind Arthur of his past deeds by throwing obstacles right back at him.

Damn, the world Arthur often thought to himself.

One part of him wanted to get away. To live a peaceful life with Y/N by his side, hopefully with a ring around her finger and a cabin all to themselves on a plot of land that they’d own. However another part of him understood that he was an outlaw who’d committed many crimes and killed many people so he accepted the fact that he would never truly get away from ‘the life’. He mentally scolded himself for thinking such things when he knew he didn’t deserve it. Didn’t deserve her.

Arthur was pulled back to reality when Y/N came rushing back over to him, a giddy smile still formed on her lips.

“Ya ready?” Arthur asked with a slightly sarcastic undertone.

Y/N nodded dramatically. “Yes sir, Mr. Morgan.”

“Alright then, let’s go.” The outlaw said gesturing to the wagon that sat off to the side of camp.

“Thank you. Both of you. Make sure to bring back what we need.” Pearson called out as the couple made their way toward the wagon.

Arthur grunted as his response to Pearson’s demand about the supplies. If he didn’t love Y/N so much, he wouldn’t be going back out.

“Don’t worry, we will!” Y/N called back amused by Arthur’s lack of interest.

The stocky cowboy stepped up onto the wagon first then extended his hands out for Y/N to grab. She took them firmly in her own and helped Arthur to pull her up onto the wagon as well then on their way they went.

The couple spent the first several minutes basking in silence. It was a bit awkward only because they didn’t know what to say to each other.

Arthur loved spending time with Y/N however, lately he felt as if he were avoiding her in a sense and he wasn’t sure if he was capable of discussing the reason why.

Y/N was glad that they were alone, but she needed to talk to him, tell him how she felt so that way they could get everything out in the open.

Despite her and Abigail’s talk earlier, she was hesitant.

“Beautiful today, isn’t it?” Y/N stated in an attempt to spark a conversation.

The outlaw nodded. “Yeah. Real nice.”

Silence again.

‘Beautiful today? Damn you, Y/N! Talking about the weather.’ Y/N mentally scolded herself.

Why did she have to be as awkward as Arthur when it came to starting a genuine chat?

Something else. She had to talk about something else, something that she could eventually steer in the direction of how she felt.

“Find anything in town? Any solid leads?” She opted for asking about what Arthur had been doing earlier.

Arthur spared her a glance then turned back to the dirt road. “Yeah uh...turns out there’s a train that’s gonna pass through town tomorrow then head into a bit of deserted country. Me, Charles, and John thought about hittin’ it.”

“Hope it’ll be worth it. There’s nothing worse than going through all that trouble only to get a small take from it.” Y/N said with a small chuckle of amusement following as if she were trying to make a joke.  

Arthur scoffed in response. “From what I hear, trains full of rich bastards taking a trip somewhere so it should be a decent score.” He turned the wagon into another dirt road that led into town.

“I’m glad.”

“Glad?” Arthur asked, confusion lacing his voice.

She then realized how odd that must have sounded and was quick to add. “I mean glad in the sense that we’ll have some more money and are that much closer to finally moving on from this place.” Her cheeks were now flushed red.

“You’re glad about us robbing trains and rich folk?” Arthur inquired his lips curling to form a smirk.

Y/N giggled. “No! I just- Oh you know what I meant, Arthur Morgan!”

Arthur laughed along with his girlfriend, admiring the sound of her embarrassed giggling.

The sight made his heart skip a beat like nothing ever had, not even back when he was with Mary.

Yes he had plenty of good times with her, but with Y/N it was by far the best experience he’d ever had.

Soon their laughter settled down and Y/N took a deep breath, plopping her hands in her lap.

For a moment Y/N had forgotten all about her troubles, but with the silence closing in on them again, she suddenly remembered the ache in her heart.

Abigail’s words echoed in her head.

I think you should tell him how you feel.

Should she do it now? Was it too soon?

Her heart willed her to say something while her mind held her back. However, the ache in her chest was growing, pushing her to be honest with him.

Y/N looked up to Arthur, admiring his features. She could tell he was lost in his own thoughts as he directed them toward the store.

The way that the sun was hitting him caused her heart to pound away. It was a sensation that reminded her of when he’d lean in for a kiss. She was overwhelmed with love and admiration for him. It wasn’t like anything she’d known.

She needed to do it now.

Do it. Now.

Y/N opened her mouth. “Arth-”

“Let’s head in and get what we need.” Arthur said as he climbed off the wagon.

Y/N stared at him surprised, mouth still hanging open. She had not realized how close they were to the market. She didn’t even feel the wagon come to a halt.

“You okay?” Arthur asked, seeing as how Y/N was continuing to sit up on the wagon in a daze.

She was snapped back from her thoughts, shaking her head. “O-oh. Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Okay. Let’s head in then.” Arthur suggested, walking off toward the store.

Y/N climbed down from the wagon and followed close behind Arthur.

As they shopped for all the materials and ingredients Pearson had asked for, Y/N kept getting distracted.

She kept thinking about what happened outside the store. As soon as his name was leaving her lips, Arthur was quick to intervene, suggesting they head in and start gathering supplies.

Did he know what she wanted to say? Was he aware that she wanted to talk and was trying to avoid it?

She really wasn’t sure. But she did know, now was not the time to talk about it apparently.

Besides, trying to discuss honest feelings inside a food market was not very intimate anyway.

It took a little while but Y/N and Arthur were eventually done buying the supplies. Arthur loaded them into the back of the wagon and was quick to climb up onto the seat.

Y/N walked over to the side of the wagon, where Arthur was sitting and once again helped him to lift her up.

Arthur snapped the reins, pushing the horses to go, and rode down the town’s path back toward the woods.

Just like on the way to the town, Y/N and Arthur didn’t say much. Instead of the teasing banter from earlier though, nothing was being said.

Each individual thinking miles away.

Y/N felt an obsessive need to somehow discuss her inner feelings to him while trying to be considerate to his feelings as well.

Arthur, on the other hand, was occupied with what happened back at town. Y/N had said his name, and yet he had interrupted her. She said she was okay but she seemed really distracted while they were shopping.

Was she about to say something? And if so, what was it?

As they rode further down the dirt path, Y/N caught a glimpse of another diverging path on her right.

She got an idea.

“Hey Arthur, turn up this path.” Y/N said, pointing to the dirt road they were getting ever nearer to.

“Why? Going that way takes longer to get back to camp.” Arthur stated.

Y/N turned to look Arthur right in the eyes.

“Please Arthur. There’s something I want to show you.” She pleaded, her voice soft and gentle almost like a whisper.

Hearing her voice that way, so quiet and fragile, made his heart skip a beat.

When she asked him for anything in that tone, he gladly did it. If she had asked him to burn down the entire world using that voice, he’d do it.

No problem.

Arthur’s gaze softened, silently turning onto the dirt path.

“I know this path is longer, but it’s more romantic.” Y/N stated a smile spreading across her face.

“Romantic? You tryin’ to butter me up?” The cowboy asked a slight tone of sarcasm.

Y/N laughed. “No, well maybe. I’m just trying to set the mood.”

Arthur smirked which made Y/N turn to him. “Why would you want to set the mood just for me?”

Y/N jabbed his arm with her elbow. “Don’t be like that. Is it so hard for you to believe that I’d want to do something special for you?”

He shook his head, a smile teasing his lips. “I guess I never thought I deserved it.”

“Well it’s not true.” Y/N added shortly pausing before speaking again. “Actually there’s something I really need to talk to you about, but I wanted to wait until we got there.”

Confused, Arthur looked over to his girlfriend, his half smile dying down. “What do you mean?”

She rested one hand on his back and used her other hand to hold Arthur’s arm. “Guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”

He chuckled. “I suppose so.”

It was a few minutes when Y/N suddenly patted Arthur’s arm, telling him to stop. He pulled hard on the reins until the horses came to a stop.

Arthur could immediately see the pep in Y/N’s step after she hopped off the wagon and treaded down a small hill, trying her best to avoid rocks and loose dirt.

“This way Arthur!” Y/N said absentmindedly, her eyes fixated on whatever was in front of her. Then her figure disappeared behind the edge of a small cliff.

“Hang on a sec…” Arthur blurted out as he made his way down the steep slope.

When he reached the bottom he was met with a medium sized pond surrounded by tall trees, patches of grass and flowers while a modest waterfall continuously flowed from some unseen river.

The cowboy stared at the beautiful environment as he stepped up beside Y/N who was also admiring the view, standing just an inch away from the water line.

“Isn’t it pretty?” She beamed, her eyes never leaving the shining surface of the water.

Arthur nodded. “Yeah. Real pretty.”

The couple took a moment to admire the scene in front of them. Both set of eyes wandering along each strand of grass, every flower, ever ripple in the water, trying to memorize every little detail as if they would never see it again.

And it was entirely possible.

The next day they could very well run into trouble, either from the O'driscolls or the Pinkertons or whatever bastards wanted to mess with them. They’d have to pack up and move again.

That was the harsh reality of the life Arthur and Y/N were a part of. Which is what gave moments like this more meaning, made them more special.

They might never see it again, but if they could remember it, they could dream about it.

Y/N’s eyes ran along the waterline eventually meeting back to Arthurs figure. Her gaze crawling up from the ground to finally land on his features.

His blue eyes, brown hair, his growing stubble, the scar on his chin. As much time as she had spent observing his features, her memory could never compare to the real thing.

“Hey Arthur?”

“Yeah?” He replied, his gaze not moving away from the pond.

“Let’s go swimming.”

That seemed to grab his attention as Y/N watched his head snap over in her direction.

“Swimming?” He asked in a near whisper, not sure he heard her right.

She smiled. “Yeah. Swimming.”

Y/N could see a redness rise from his neck up to his cheeks.

Arthur lifted up his hand to massage the back on his neck, like he was attempting to wipe away the blush. “I -I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. We’ve been gone long enough, I think it’s better to just head back.”

This time Y/N turned her whole body to face the man she loved. “Please, Arthur? Just this once.”

That damned voice. So soft, so gentle. God, she had him wrapped around her little finger.

He let out a sigh before saying, “Alright. If that’s what you want.”

With a light squeeze on his arm, Y/N stood up on her tippy toes and kissed Arthur’s cheek. “Thank you.” 

Arthur let out a small nervous chuckle as he tried to think of something to say. Unfortunately, he came up blank.

“I’ll head in first then you can follow me in, that okay?” Y/N asked, still pressed into his side.

He hesitantly nodded. “Y-yeah. That...that sounds good.”

He could feel the moment that Y/N stepped away and when he finally looked up, he could already see his girlfriend starting to undress herself.

The cowboy was quick to turn his back once he witnessed Y/N unbuttoning her shirt.

Even though she was the one to suggest the idea, Y/N could feel her own hesitation beginning to rise within her. Her heart started hammering in her chest, her face became hot, and short breaths puffed out of her mouth as she tried to control her breathing.

Why was she so nervous now?

She knew the answer because behind the confidence she had just displayed, she had never exposed herself in front of a man before, let alone the man she loved.

This was just as new for her as it was for him.

Y/N shook her head from those thoughts and proceeded to take her clothes off. She had already come this far, there was no need to feel so hesitant now. She loved Arthur with all her heart, and now she needed to show him that.

Once her undergarments were off, the woman stepped toward the pond, slowly sinking further and further into the water. 

She felt delighted when her skin came into contact with the shining liquid. “Wow, the water is warmer than I thought it’d be!” She called back to Arthur who was standing as stiff as a statue.

The sound of her voice caused Arthur to look over his shoulder to see Y/N’s clothes lying on the grass.

He closed his eyes for a second mumbling to himself. “Shit…”

The cowboy reached up to grab his hat then tossed it to the ground. Slowly but surely, he began taking off his clothes, one piece at a time.

Once he was completely naked, his anxiety was screaming at him. He had never felt so exposed in his life and he knew it wasn’t just because he was wearing nothing out in the open.

He turned to face the direction of the pond, quickly realizing that Y/N had her back turned to him. He also took note of how she was nearly completely submerged in the water, only the top of shoulders and up were visible.

When he stepped into the water, he was surprised.

She was right, the water was warm. It was probably thanks to the scorching hot days they had to deal with.

It took a couple of more seconds as his body was covered more and more by the murky water.

Based on the sounds coming from behind her, Y/N sensed that Arthur had already entered the water and was approaching.

She turned around meeting face to face with her boyfriend, who had stopped just a few inches away. While she’s not surprised it does distract her for a minute as she eyes his muscular chest. It was no secret that Arthur Morgan was built like an ox but seeing it up close like this was quite intriguing.

Arthur noticed Y/N’s eyes looking him up and down, but he made no indication that he wanted her to stop. He simply let her look.

Though his breath hitched in his throat when Y/N inched her way over to him, stopping just a few inches away, their bodies almost touching.

“Arthur, you know that I care about you right? And that I trust you with my life?”

Not being able to come up with a coherent thought, he nodded.

She continued. “Recently, I’ve noticed that when I...try to be more intimate with you, you seem….” she paused, not knowing the right words to use.

“You always seem so...uncomfortable. Like you don’t want that.”

Arthur’s eyes drooped to the water in deep thought before Y/N spoke again.

“I know you’ve been through a lot of pain in your life, and you opened your heart to people who ended up breaking it.”

He knew who she was talking about.

“So I’m not gonna make you do anything you don’t want to do. I love you, and the last I’d ever want is to make you uncomfortable or… make you feel you’re obligated to do things for me.” She raised her hand to cup his cheek.

Feeling him flinch made her want to retreat her hand almost immediately.

“Because you’re not. I just…” She paused again, wondering if she really should say more. She decided yes.

“I just wish you’d talk to me about how you feel and…..and what you want.” She finished, taking in his pensive expressive a clear indicator that he was taking her words to heart.

He didn’t say anything for several seconds. Fairly deep in his own mind.

Y/N let out a nervous, airy chuckle as if she were trying to diffuse the tense atmosphere. “I hope that I’m making sense and not rambling.”

He nodded again. Not saying anything still.

His silence was starting to make Y/N feel insecure, and made her think that maybe doing this was a bad idea.

She pulled her hand away from his face. “I’m sorry. Maybe we should go back.”

Y/N started to walk away when a hand grabbed her arm. She whipped her head back to the cowboy in utter shock.

Arthur stood frozen, his hand tightly gripping Y/N’s arm as he contemplated what he wanted to do right now. It was obvious he was in inner turmoil, trying desperately to come to terms with his own anxiety and hesitations.

However, when he heard Y/N whisper his name quiet enough that he just barely heard it, his resolve became crystal clear.

He yanked Y/N closer to him, pressing her body snugly against his as he lifted her up. He slid one hand under her leg, keeping it wrapped around his waist and used the other to wrap around her back.

The gasp that left Y/N’s mouth caused him to groan as he shortly pressed his lips to hers in a passionate infused kiss.

Y/N could only describe it as absolutely intoxicating. She felt drunk off his love.

In all the time that they had been together, Arthur had never kissed her like this. A perfect mixture of rough and tenderness.

Where had this been all her life?

Unfortunately breathing was becoming a factor so the couple pulled away from each other, panting for air.

“I’m...sorry, Y/N.” Arthur suddenly apologized.

The love of her life had just given her the most amazing kiss she had only ever dreamt of until now and he was apologizing?

How did she deserve him?

She grinned. “Sorry for what?”

“For how I’ve been the last couple of months. I should’ve talked to you sooner.” Arthur explained.

Y/N shook her head. “That’s nothing to be sorry for. You had your reasons.”

“That’s still no excuse.” He paused then added, “I knew I liked you from the beginning but the longer we were together, the more I realized how much I loved you. And it scared me because I thought that by me loving you, I might lose you like ....” He stopped himself, not being able to finish that sentence.

Y/N caressed his cheek again. “It’s okay. I know how much you’ve been through which is why I didn’t push it. I just wanted you to know that you can talk to me, be open with me.”

Arthur nodded his head. “I know I can. I trust you. It’s just most of the time I think of all the bad things I’ve done and can't help but worry about what could happen to you.”

“We’ve all done bad things, but what’s important is how we try to make up for those mistakes, and try to live a good life.” Y/N reassured, wrapping her arms around his neck.

She heard Arthur chuckle. “I’d be willing to try livin’ that good life as long as you’ll live it with me.”

Y/N smirked though a smile soon broke out after it. “Always.”

Arthur smiled back before he leaned in and captured Y/N’s lips once again.

This time, the kiss was much softer than the previous showing that this wasn’t based on lust, but rather originated from an unyielding love.

They pulled away to catch their breath.

“I love you, Y/N.” Arthur whispered as he locked eyes with his girlfriend. The woman he thought he didn’t deserve, but would try with every fiber of his being to do right by her.

Because second chances didn’t come by often, and if she was his, he’d do anything within his power to be a man she could be proud of.

Little did he know, she already was.

Her smile turned into a grin. “I love you too and I always will.”

______

Series Masterlist

[crystalgirl259]

The Flame and the Dragon Ch18

Chapter 18: The Truth

Kai stumbled as he carried the bundle of clean sheets and thick curtains in his arms while balancing a bucket filled with bars of soap, clothes, and oil polish. Despite taking him back to the castle and tending to his injuries, Cole still gave him punishment for breaking his promise and left the castle grounds. Cole only told him to clean the Lord's room and as a reward, he would let the brunette go for a ride on Flame, who was being pampered in the stables by the staff.

Immediately, he dreaded the job but the thought of seeing Flame sent a wave of joy through him.

Kai chuckled to himself. He couldn't deny it was nice being able to spend time with Cole without having to worry about setting off his temper or arguing with him, but if Cole thought he would be that easy to win over, he was sadly mistaken. His eyes lit up at the challenge until the weight of the objects in his arms brought him back to reality. He groaned in annoyance as he reminded himself of the task at hand. When he found Cole's room again, he was surprised to find the door open and the room empty.

He set the items on a clean-looking spot and dug out the bucket, oil varnish, and a half-melted cake of soap.

He dumped the soap in the bucket and filled it with water from the bathroom, and poured a generous amount of varnish into the water. Supplies in hand, he turned to his opponent and glared. His eyes darted from the dusty furniture to the smudges on the wall, the glass, and furniture scattered across the floor. Fortunately, the sheets had done their job, the couches and chairs were free of dirt. He set the bucket on the floor and fished out the leather gloves the servents had given him and slipped them on, refusing to risk cutting his hands.

Carefully, he gathered the scraps and put them in a pile out of the way until he could figure out what to do with them.

Fortunately, none of the pieces were too heavy or large, but the tiny scraps littered the floor. Dropping to his hands and knees, he meticulously scanned the floor until he'd moved every visible scrap to a harmless location. He sighed and fell back on his knees, pulling off his gloves and tucking them into his pocket. Not wanting to ruin any more clothes, he slipped off his jacket and placed it on a nearby chair. He tied a clean cloth around his mouth to keep away the dust.

He grabbed the bucket, the rags, and the rest of the equipment and began attacking the layers of dust covering the furniture.

Painstakingly, he dug into each crevice, leaving a glossy trail in his wake. By the time he finished the furniture, the dust and holes caked the rag, making it useless. He fished out another cloth and attacked the walls. He growled as higher smudges mocked his height and stretched on his toes, scrubbing the black smudges, fiercely. His arm screamed with each stroke. When he couldn't bear the pain, he finally receded and switched hands letting his sore arm fall limp at his side.

He exhaled deeply in liberation an hour later from exhaustion.

His eyes wandered from the pale spots on the wall to the smudges on the floor. Groaning, he dunked a thicker rag in the bucket and carpet and brushed with passion. He stopped and wiped the sweat from his brow, his arms ached with stiffness. When the last smudge faded, leaving bright blue in its wake, he threw the destroyed cloth in the bucket and struggling to lift it. His muscles screamed at him until he dumped his burden in Cole's bathroom sink.

Free at last, he rewarded himself by collapsing in the nearest piece of furniture which turned out to be the bed.

He sighed in relief and let gravity sink his body into the softness of the bed, his arms liquefying with numbness when he tried to move them. His legs dangled over the bedside. A smirk of victory crossed his face. Now all he needed to do was replace the sheets and he was done. He lost count of how many hours he'd been working. For all he knew, he'd been asleep most of the morning and it was already late afternoon. He wasn't sure he cared anymore.

Finally, his body gave and he closed his eyes in relaxation.

"Damn, did you do everything?" A voice suddenly said. Kai's eyes popped open. He jumped in surprise and whirled around just in time to see Cole standing in the doorway balancing a tray of food in his hands. His eyes scanned the room from top to bottom, raising an impressed brow. "You did a nice job."

"Thank you." Kai smiled as he stood on his feet, stumbling slightly from the heaviness of his body. "I still have to do the sheets before I can see Flame, right?" He asked hopefully. Cole frowned and gestured towards the window. Kai's heart sank. Darkness had already crept across the sky, and the last traces of sunlight were the deep purple and reds of dusk. "That's impossible! I only lied down for a few minutes!" He protested, his eyes unintentionally drawing him to the window, pressing his forehead against the glass.

"You must've fallen asleep," Cole concluded, looking around the room again. "Not that I blame you, you certainly did more than I expected."

"Damnit! All that work for nothing!" Kai cursed and pressed his head against the glass hard enough for the sound to echo. Cole almost laughed at the teen's mild tantrum.

"Now you will have the entire day to spend with your horse, and it's supposed to be nice tomorrow." He said as he sat the tray on the table, strolled over to the teen, and gently grasped his shoulders. Kai was taken aback when he was pulled from his position and guided towards the table. He took a seat in a chair that was far too big for him. His stomach sang with glee at the sight of the food Shade must've prepared for him. The thick aroma of spices and meats caused his mouth to water.

"Now eat before it gets cold, otherwise you'll give Shade a heart attack," Cole said, motioning for the teen to eat up. "Besides, I know for a fact you haven't eaten since yesterday and you're much too thin as it is." He teased and Kai surrendered, his eyes widening as he took in what Shade had prepared. A large bowl of thick tomato soup with a plate of bread spread with garlic and herbs and mushrooms boiled in butter formed the appetizers. A whole hen baked to a golden brown and dressed with chestnut and hazelnut stuffing formed the centerpiece.

A separate plate of roasted eggs, potatoes sprinkled with parsley and a plate of biscuits sat next to it.

A bottle of light blackberry wine and two jeweled encrusted goblets completed the meal. He wasted no time, and dove for the closest thing he could find. Devouring the soup, a biscuit, and the spread toast, he moved onto the mushrooms. He ate half the chicken before Cole grabbed his hand and offered him a goblet of wine.

"Slow down before you choke." He commanded. He swallowed a mouthful of food and blushed, mortified by his bad manners.

"Sorry, I guess I was hungrier than I thought." He apologized, taking the goblet. He sipped the wine, noticing Cole had not moved except to stop him. "Aren't you going to eat anything?" he asked, concerned. Cole's eyes widened. His face too confused to respond as if he'd never been asked such a question. "Here, there's more than enough here for two." He suggested, offering the plate of mushrooms.

"I... I don't need to eat."

"But... you do eat, don't you?"

"I can, I just don't need to."

"So, in other words, just because you don't need to do something, you don't do it?"

"Exactly."

"That sounds boring," Kai commented, taking an empty plate and set one of everything on it, then filled the second glass with wine. Cole opened his mouth to question the action only for Kai to place the plate and goblet in front of him. Cole stared at the food with confusion, then back at the grinning teenager.

"Did you not hear what I just told you?"

"I heard you, but you can still eat and Shade's food is delicious, I can't eat all of it and he'll be crushed if we throw some of it out."

"I just told you, I don't need to eat." Cole snapped, biting back his annoyance. "If there's no point to things, why do them?"

"Haven't you ever just done something for the sake of doing it?" Kai interrogated, trying to keep his voice civil. "If not for any other reason than because you can, or to have fun, or to try something new?" He asked and to emphasized his point, he picked up the plate and held it closer to Cole. "When was the last time you actually tasted something? I'll bet one bite and you won't stop."

"Why does it matter?" Cole replied harshly, snatching the plate away and setting it back on the table. "If I don't need something, then what's the point? It's such a waste if something isn't done for a purpose."

"It's not a waste! It's not poison and besides, you not eating means it will go to waste and your staff would've worked hard for nothing." Kai scolded, gesturing with a swing of his hand to address everyone who wasn't in the room.

"I adore my staff, thank you very much, but I doubt my lack of appetite bothers them," Cole answered in a dry tone. "They still eat, though I fail to see the reason why, and regardless, they have always found other ways to entertain themselves in the past." He snarled. Kai's brow narrowed but he had a mischievous smirk on his face.

"But not what they want to do, so everyone else is denied their wants solely because you have nothing better to do but wallow in your room? No wonder you're so grouchy all the time, you must bore yourself to death."

"You really don't know when to bite your tongue, do you?"

"Well spare me for trying to bring a little sunshine to the doom and gloom you call your life." Kai protested, getting to his feet. "I just don't understand you, you have an entire castle here, people who adore your company, and all you do is lock yourself in this room and break things! It's like you purposely go out of your way to make yourself miserable and everyone worries themselves sick because of it." He glared and Cole was on his feet in an instant, anger in his eyes.

"I have my reasons and they are none of your concern nor anyone else's." He countered harshly and turned left. Using his smaller stature to his advantage, Kai cut in front of him, forcing Cole to look at him.

"It is my concern and everyone else's when everyone worries about you." Kai protested passionately. "All the time I hear everyone worrying over you and wondering why you've never left your room; the last two weeks, all they did was ask me what happened to you, and ever since I arrived here, I've been wondering what I did to make you so angry with me!" He blurted out. Cole's expression dropped. The anger from before had vanished, leaving Cole's face a mask of neutrality.

Kai froze and bit his lip as an awkward silence passed between them.

His eyes hadn't left Cole's but he felt himself shaking slightly beneath that gaze. Finally, Cole shook his head, a line formed on his lips.

"If you're referring to the incident in the ballroom, you can relax, I'm not angry at you for that; our... conversation just brought up a few bad memories and I overreacted and your rudeness did little to soften my temper so we were both at fault and it's done." He replied and Kai wobbled a bit, almost sick with relief, but another question came to mind. He opened his mouth to ask, but he bit it back. The rift between them was already large enough.

"What is it?" Cole ordered, curiosity softening the command.

"Nothing," Kai replied, lowering his gaze.

"You wanted to ask me something," Cole observed. Kai didn't look up until the tip of the dragon's tail curled beneath his chin. Cole's arms crossed over his chest, an amused smile crossed his face as he leaned over to meet Kai's eye level. "I know from past experience what happens when your curiosity isn't satisfied, so ask." He said humorously, but there was forcefulness as well. Kai had never been afraid of Cole before the previous night, and he wasn't now, but the knot in his gut twisted.

His voice felt like it vanished.

He froze in place, enthralled by the desire to see what was beyond those emerald depths but the fear of adding another layer to the barrier between them was equally as strong. As if sensing the teenager's dilemma, Cole's expression softened. "Whatever it is, I promise I won't get upset." He added. The statement broke the enchantment. Kai closed his eyes and exhaled a breath.

"Is that your family?" He asked. Completely blown away, by the statement Cole's face dropped to one of flabbergasted silence

"What do you mean?" He asked in a breathy voice, releasing Kai from his grip. His tail curled nervously at his feet. Kai swallowed, almost too afraid to ask, but knowing it was too late, his eyes wandered to the painting on the other side of the room. The cloth had been removed when he changed it and now it was open and visible beneath its glass case.

"The painting over there, are they your family?" He asked with concerned eyes, silently praying he hadn't unintentionally tread into forbidden territory. Cole didn't answer, but the look of conflict on his face spoke for him. He was torn between anger, anguish, and something else. Kai opened his mouth to apologize but Cole raised a hand.

"Don't apologize, you were only curious." He said quickly, silencing any apology. Cole swooped past him, quickly strolling to the balcony, and braced himself on the table where the candle rested. His claws sank into the table as he gave a heavy sigh.

"It's alright if you don't want to say anything." Kai blurted out quickly, his mind racing for some way to repair the rift he knew he'd increased. Cole shot up and the second his eyes met Kai, the teen looked at the ground. "I won't pry into your private life."

"It's not that!" Cole said quickly, hoping to remove the young man's unwarranted guilt. "You've done nothing wrong, it's just something I've come to accept; I know I can't change it no matter how much I wish I could, so I've just accepted it." He explained, turning his back to Kai, who looked at him with wide eyes. Realization at their misunderstanding dawned on him, and he shook his head, turning his attention back to the painting then Cole.

"Are you talking about the curse?" He asked, without thinking. Cole shot up, completely astounded by the statement. He knew the boy knew who he was, but he was forbidden to speak of the details nonetheless.

"I read it in a book," Kai explained with a small smile. "The librarian gave it to me, it's my favorite book." He explained, trying to stifle a laugh at the jaw-dropped expression on Cole's face. "I didn't believe it at first, but it told about this castle, the prince who lived here, the sorcerer who cursed him for no sin other than wanting to protect his kingdom; I wasn't even sure it was real until I saw you for the first time and I later found out Zane wrote it."

"I don't believe this," Cole muttered as he collapsed in a nearby chair, his face a mask of pure shock.

"It wasn't that difficult to figure out, everyone does a horrible job of hiding it every time I ask about it, how dense do they think I am?" He explained with a laugh.

"It isn't that, they can't tell you." He explained, noticing the cute look of confusion on Kai's face. "It is part of our curse, no one can reveal the details of it or how to break it to an outsider; Zane is the only exception because he wrote it down." He laughed to himself at the irony.

"Wait, you mean you knew about it?"

"Yeah, who do you think gave him permission to do so?" Cole laughed, standing up. He hooked a hand around Kai's arm, pulling him to his feet with such swiftness their eyes met again. "I was joking at the time, I'm glad he took me seriously."

"Yes, but that still doesn't answer my question." He replied. "Is that your family? You don't have to tell me about them, I just wasn't sure; they look a lot like you, so I just assumed." He added gently. Cole's face was unreadable as he let Kai go. His eyes darted back to the painting of the happy family safely locked away behind the glass, carefully taking in every detail.

"Why do you want to know?" He asked his voice stoic and his eyes absent of emotion.

"Because I want to get to know you." He answered honestly. His eyes and voice held true conviction, not a flicker of doubt. "The real you, not the character I read in a book or the façade you put up to keep people away, I want to know the real Cole." He said passionately. Finally, Cole closed his eyes and shook his head with a small smile at the boy before him. He walked past Kai with a commanding aura. Kai's gaze followed him until he saw Cole had stopped in front of the painting.

His claws gently glided over the glass and gently caressed the cheek of the girl in the painting.

"My mother was the sweetest person you'd ever meet." He sighed sadly. "She had a heart of gold and a temper to match, do not mistake her though, you would not wish to anger her in fact, those who did often wish they hadn't but she was fair in her discipline; all children in the kingdom she considered her own and it was her personal duty to help all the orphans in any way she could; there was not a soul you could find who didn't love her and I doubt there was anything about her you couldn't love."

"She sounds so kind."

"She was a firm ruler, a tough woman, and a very strict parent." He smiled and, for a moment, Kai swore it was the smile of a child longing for his mother. "My father loved us with every fiber of his soul but he was always willing to sacrifice his own time and happiness for the good of his kingdom." He continued. "He didn't sit around and let officials do the work for him and when something needed to be built or when there was a battle, he was there; he always said a King is only as good as the people who follow him and he never asked his people to do anything he himself wouldn't do." Cole paused for a minute to chuckle at the memory.

"That's a good thing to teach."

"That was the first lesson he taught me; respect for my people." The Dragon Lord smiled at the memory. "I hated it when I was younger; always having to go into town and work, but my father was firm with me, especially in his discipline; despite his duties, however, he always made time for us, and every day, he'd take my sister and I horseback riding or he'd educate us on what it meant to be King; he wasn't there as much as I would've liked, but I also understood his reasons." He sighed heavily.

Kai felt his heart jump as he heard Cole speak, never before had he spoken so kindly, so happily.

It was like he was living a dream and nothing else mattered. He stood up and strolled over to his side.

"They sound wonderful." He smiled, recalling his own parents before they passed away.

"They were."

"Is that your sister?" Kai asked, gesturing a hand to the young girl in the image. Cole didn't answer at first. Instead, he knelt down to meet the eyes of the girl.

"I loved my sister the most, even though she was adopted." He replied.

"She was disowned by her original guardian, but it didn't matter to me or my parents; she was my sister and she meant the world to me, I adored her and she looked up to me and I promised her I'd do anything to protect her." His voice was bright with adoration that Kai swore could only rival his own love for Lloyd. "She was so young." His voice faded to a whisper as his forehead pressing against the glass. "She did nothing wrong." He mumbled. His claws clenched, scratching the glass.

"Neither did you," Kai added, with a small grin of understanding. "Is that why you lock yourself away here? To punish yourself?" He asked and the dragon hybrid looked up. Fierce emeralds bore straight into concerned ambers. The younger held still, not pressuring him but waiting for an answer.

"Why are you so persistent?"

"Why do you avoid answering me?" Kai persisted, his glare hardening. "Am I correct?"

"It doesn't matter," Cole huffed before he turned around and started towards the door, his tail wrapping around Kai's waist gesturing for him to follow. Kai dug his heels into the ground, wincing as the scaly appendage tightened. He bit his lip to keep from crying out. Cole tugged on him, but the stubborn teen remained firm, refusing to back down. Finally, Kai slapped the appendage away and glared at the king. Cole winced, more shocked than angry by the strike.

"What is the matter with you?" He demanded harshly, moving to grab the teen, but Kai evaded his talons, refusing to let time repeat.

"Why is it so hard to answer me?"

"Why does it matter?" He growled at the teen's boldness, his tail whipping at his side, filling the room with loud smacks every time it struck something. "Go back to your room, Kai, you're done here." He ordered, pointing to the door.

"I am not leaving until you answer me!" He shouted and Cole saw red. Before either of them could react he roughly grabbed his upper arm and pinned him against the glass, but not hard enough to hurt him, only immobilize him.

"You are the most stubborn person I have ever met!"

"Funny, I was just about to say the same thing about you! Now let go of me, this instant!" He yelled as he wrenched his arms, but Cole harshly tugged him closer, making him wince.

"You know nothing about me!" The dragon hybrid snapped, shaking the teen slightly.

"That's exactly my point!" Kai argued, clawing at the man's talons with his free hand, in a weak attempt to earn release from his captor's grip, digging his heels into the ground. "You only tell me about everyone else, but you never say anything about yourself! And when I ask you why you stay here, you change the subject or avoid it? Why! You did nothing wrong! So why are you punishing yourself for a crime you didn't commit?"

"You think I don't know that!" Cole exploded, with such force that Kai went silent. Slightly afraid of the mad anger in the Lord's face, Kai stopped his resistance, paralyzed. He put up no resistance as Cole forcefully pulled him closer. "I know I did nothing wrong! I know there was nothing I could've done! Is it better knowing I could do nothing but watch as my entire family vanished right before my eyes and I could do nothing to save them? That I could do nothing to stop the monster who stole them from me from turning me into this repulsive creature? Yes, I'm well aware of that!"

A disturbing silence fell between them, disturbed only by Cole's heavy breathing.

Slowly, regaining his composure, Kai's gaze softened, and his voice civilized.

"So you are punishing yourself." He concluded in an expressionless voice. He'd braced himself for a blow, expecting Cole to strike him, or yell at him once more, but he did neither. Instead, he responded in the last way Kai expected him to. He laughed. Low pearls rolled off his lips like small dark chuckled, before finally erupting into a triumphant burst of hysterics.

"You think I blame myself for that?" Cole mocked, still laughing. "I'd have to be a damned fool to even think that? Why should I when I know the real culprit?" He asked, breathless from laughing. The Dragon Lord then released him and with a shove, more powerful than he intended, threw the teen back into an armchair he'd backed himself against. Kai hissed at the treatment, but his eyes never left Cole's. Cole strolled across the table, bracing himself against an opposite chair, his head hung low as he continued to laugh.

"You really want to know?" He asked with sadness. Regaining himself, Kai nodded, suddenly alert.

"So persistent, fine I'll tell you." Cole chuckled darkly and his voice drifted off. "I stay here because it's easier this way; it's safer, keeping everyone at arm's length so they can't abandon you because they can't stand the sight of you and they can't insult you or turn you away despite all you've done for them because you're a monster; I've done nothing wrong, but still the world rejects and repulses me; I've long accepted I'm a monster." He explained.

Bitter sarcasm drenched his retort with venom.

Each anguished word, poisoned with a frightening familiarity, all while Kai absorbed each brutal word.

"I just don't like being reminded what I already know." He concluded. "It's just safer this way."

"You fool!" Kai protested in a tone so sharp, Cole shot up. Kai's eyes were locked on the floor, his hands balled into fists at his sides and his frame shook violently with rage. "You're a fool, Cole!" He exploded.

"How dare you!" Cole erupted, rage and betrayal in his voice. He was a fool for accepting sympathy.

"Yes, I dare!" Kai countered, stepping forward until he was face to face with the hybrid. "How dare you just give up!" He paused, voice shaking with anger as he tried to find the right words. "You were betrayed, shunned, and abandoned, I don't blame you for that! But how dare you give in to those accusations! So what?! Just because a bunch of heartless traitors shun you and tell you you're a monster that automatically makes it true? When do you ever listen to anyone but yourself!?" He demanded angrily.

Cole's talons ceased the teen by his shoulders and lifted him off the ground, growling with rage.

"You know nothing! You don't know anything that I've been through! You have no idea what it's to be shunned and hated for nothing! You have no idea!" He bellowed so loud Kai was sure the whole castle shook. Kai flinched at the words, not by the harshness in the man's accusation but by its inaccuracy. He shoved the man off him, so hard, Cole was taken aback by the force and stumbled backward. His legs hit those of the armchair and he fell back, but before he could forget, Kai braced his hands on either arm, pinning the man beneath him.

Stunned by the sudden action, Cole froze, paralyzed by the ferocity and gravity in the intense gaze.

"You think I don't know what it's like to be hated? To be shunned and mocked through no fault of my own? Do you think I don't feel something when I see the way people look at me and whisper about me as I walk by? You don't think I know they think I'm a freak! Just because everyone agrees I'm some brazen youth whose only purpose in life should be to marry some pompous aristocrat, live in a gilded cage, and raise spoiled children until I croak means I should accept it and do it?" His shaking grew work as he spoke.

Passion and rage consumed him, and he narrowed his eyes, biting back the tears threatening to fall.

"At least I don't give up! At least I don't just give up and accept what everyone thinks! Because they're wrong! And I know they are! Even if they all agree, even if everyone and everything thinks you're something doesn't mean you are, right? Even if they drill it into your skull, even if they convince you you're a monster or a freak! That doesn't mean it's true!" He finished screaming, his entire body shook violently. Without bothering to wait for a reaction from the stunned Lord, Kai pulled back and turned to leave, knowing he couldn't keep himself in control any longer.

He didn't get far.

In a flash, Cole blocked the man's path with his wings, carefully placing a talon on his shoulder, and gently turned him to face him, but Kai refused to meet his gaze.

"Kai, wait!" Cole called softly. When the teen looked up, Cole's eyes widened. Tears streaked the teen's face like transparent rivers. Droplets accumulated on Kai's chin until they finally dropped to the floor or dampened Cole's claws.

"What!" The teenager snapped, harshly, furiously rubbing away the signs of his weakness. Even with tears falling from Kai's eyes, fire blazed in them. Those same indomitable eyes he adored, at first sight, blazed with so many emotions at once. Anger, anguish, sympathy, disgust, hurt. It was hard to tell who they were for or what emotions were directed at whom. Frozen at the sight before him, Cole moved a clawed hand to catch the tears, unsure how to react.

The Lord gently brushed his chest, wondering why his heart suddenly felt like it sprang free, and why hit hurt when he saw the tears, he tried so hard to force back fall.

"Kai, I'm sorry, I didn't mean..." He choked, sincerely. Kai froze at the sudden apology, barely feeling the leathery wings wrap around him. He found Cole staring at him, guilt and remorse glazed his features. His eyes softened when they met his gently demanding the truth "Are you speaking about me or yourself?" He asked and Kai moved his arm to wipe away his tears before responding.

"Both." He replied. Just then two arms wrapped around him and pulled him into a tight, warm embrace. Cole gently brushed away the remains of his tears, careful not to prick the delicate skin with his claws. Unable to resist, he carefully leaned down and gently kissed the remaining tears away. Kai froze when the king pulled back, his face crimson. His voice died in his throat, unsure of how to respond to the sudden gesture, even as his finger subconsciously brushed the tender area the kiss left behind.

Cole smiled at the reaction and gently stroked the kindred spirit's soft hair hoping to calm him before gently whispering.

"No one has ever cried for my sake." He whispered as he embraced the boy tighter, enjoying the warmth Kai's body radiated. Relishing in the comfort, Kai leaned his forehead against Cole's chest, the soft material of Cole's shirt brushed against his cheek, cushioned by the lean muscles beneath. Cole wrapped his arms and tail around his waist, his wings wrapping them in a cocoon of bliss. Kai finally collapsed, emotionally exhausted, his body felt heavy with bliss.

The Dragon Lord followed his example, taking the teen with him, fell back into his chair.

His body felt as though an enormous burden had been lifted from his being and the loss of such a weight had left him immobile with peace. Cole hummed as he gently running his claws through the silky brunette locks, not caring whether or not Kai heard him. The teen smiled as he faded in and out of consciousness and exhaustion started to take its toll on him. Cole closed his own eyes, letting his hand fall limply at his side...

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

When he opened his eyes, Cole couldn't recall where he was. He closed his eyes and shook his head for a moment, gently brushing his claw through his black hair. He looked down, feeling a heavyweight on his chest. He almost jumped up in surprise when he found his house guest curled against his chest like a cat. Once the memories returned, however, he calmed himself down and smiled. He had to admit, Kai looked adorable while he slept.

So peaceful and innocent, without a care in the world.

The opposite of the fiery, strong-willed spirit he was when he awoke. Cole decided to let him sleep for a bit longer. He carefully gathered the teen in his arms and carried him to his bed. He brushed aside the veils with his tail and gently placed the boy on his side, pulling the comforter over him. His eyes fell back on the half-eaten tray of food on the table. He tested it with his finger. It was cold but not enough to be inedible. He paused for a bit when he heard a stir behind him.

"Cole?" Kai called half-consciously. Kai rolled onto his stomach and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, blearily looking for the other man. He found him by the table gathering the food and goblets from before.

"I'm just cleaning up," Cole said over his shoulder. He watched as Kai rolled over and sat upon the bed, kicking off his boots and letting his jacket slip from his shoulders. Perhaps letting him sleep in his clothes wasn't such a good idea. He left the plates on the table and strolled over to the wardrobe, searching for something light. His eyes darted to something bright on the table. Closer inspection revealed the garment was a folded pile of red silk glowing like a hot beacon among the dark color scheme.

He snatched up the garment and let the slippery material fall open, revealing an angel-sleeved robe that fell to the knees.

The size indicated it was much too small for him but saw it would fit Kai perfectly. His sharp eyes caught a white note in the pocket. He pulled it out and his eyes skinned it over, instantly recognizing Harumi's handwriting.

For Kai, since he'll probably need it.

His jaw clenched and his face reddened as he crumpled the note in his hand, reminding himself she was too valuable to kill. He could just hear the implication. What the hell did she think they'd be doing? Cole purposely chose not to answer that question. He took a breath and composed himself before placing the garment over his arm and exiting the wardrobe. Having grown used to his dragon scales, sleeping in his clothes no longer bothered him.

When he returned, he paused for a moment.

His eyes drank in the delicious sight of his house guest stripped to only his pants. Cole smirked, licking his fangs at the delicious creamy-caramel skin, briefly wondering if it tasted as sweet as it looked. Deciding to take advantage of the situation before the teen returned to full waking, he slowly strolled over to him. His tail grabbed the blanket as Kai climbed back into the bed. Kai growled, half exhausted, annoyed, and yanked the comforter.

Cole won the small war, the younger being too tired to argue.

When he noticed Kai's eyes starting to brighten, he waited until the teen turned to glare at him. When Kai did so, he held out the robe to him, smiling. Kai blinked in confusion as the slippery material fell into his hands.

"It isn't very comfortable sleeping in your clothes," Cole answered the unasked question. chuckling slightly at the boy's confusion. Realization caused Kai's eyes to bulge and he looked at Cole, then robe, then down at himself. Kai instinctively pulled the robe to his chest, his face scarlet as he glared at the smirking king.

"Cole!" He howled, more from mortification than anger.

"Relax, you can change in the bathroom." Cole smiled, gesturing to the door next to the wardrobe. With as much dignity as the teen could muster, Kai stood up, still clutching the robe, and disappeared into the bathroom. He released a sigh of relief seeing that it was clean. Chuckling, Cole returned to his earlier work, glaring down at the chicken bones, empty plates, and goblet. The wine bottle had been resealed, but the second goblet was still half-full and small amounts of appetizers littered the smaller plates.

"It would be a waste," He agreed, gathering all the food onto one large plate and stacking the dirty ones. He grabbed the half-full goblet, debating its fate. Dumping it would be a waste, but he couldn't return it to the bottle either. His eyes narrowed at the tempting liquid. He couldn't recall the last time he had wine. Hadn't Kai said something about seizing the moment?

"Oh what the hell?" He finally decided, raising the goblet to his lips. A mixture of richness and a sweet woody tang ignited his senses. His eyes flew open. The small sip turned into a large gulp, then another, then another, determined to capture the burning the liquid brought him. He gorged himself until every drop was gone from the goblet then wrenched it away to breathe. "God, I'd forgotten how good this stuff is." He said loudly as if buzzed by the minimal alcohol.

He wiped his mouth on his shirt and turned to the appetizers.

He scooped up a biscuit and took a bite. It was cold and the butter had hardened, but the combination tasted divine. He downed the other half in one gulp, unable to resist the pleasure it brought to his taste buds. He grabbed another appetizer, this time, a piece of bread with the garlic and herb spread and bit down. The bread tasted harder than the biscuit but the pasty spread had softened it, the sharpness of herbs leaving a bittersweet desire for more.

He swallowed the delicious treat before eating another one, deciding to savor the taste before it was gone.

Potatoes dripping with garlic butter went down thick and creamy. Next was the stuffed mushroom. Juice trickled down his chin and the rich, stuffing crunched in his mouth, savoring each bite until he could stand it no longer and swallowed the rest. He licked his lips and fingers, determined to capture the remains of the taste before opening the wine again and downing the rest of the bottle. The taste of berry juice flushed his senses while the sharp brisk of alcohol burned his throat.

He gulped the juice, not even bothering to stop as his lungs screamed for air and his throat burned.

He pulled the bottle from his lips and gasped as the final drop went down. He was buzzed from the ecstasy of the experience. He wobbly placed the empty bottle on the tray and carefully got to his feet. The buzz of drunkenness beginning to slip away as his body cleared his system of the alcohol.

"I told you so." A familiar voice chuckled lightly. The Dragon Lord almost dropped the bottle. His heart plunged into his stomach as he whirled around, just in time to catch the wide grin on Kai's face as he leaned in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes were brilliant with triumph and his grin nearly split his face, alerting Cole he had seen the entire scene. Ignoring the blush on his face and the large bruise on his ego, Cole got to his feet and glared at the teen.

Kai said nothing.

He removed himself from the door and walking back towards the bed, the red robe he was wearing perfectly molded his form and leaving nothing to the imagination, but Cole barely noticed. His blush worsening and his glare hardening as Kai's grin spoke more than a thousand voices. Kai sat on the bed and smiled at him, daring him to counter him.

"Go to bed!" Cole finally snapped, plopping down on an armchair. Kai smiled and shook his head...

[benny-lafitte]

Seducing Santa

Ship: Dean/Cas/Benny, Dean/Cas Tags: Alternate Universe, POV Benny Lafitte, pre-destiny, Fluff and Humor, Recreational Drug Use, Christmas Inspired Rating: Mature Word Count: 2196 Summary: Benny’s dressed up as Santa for Jody and Donna’s daughters, but when he gets home, his roommates are just as excited as the kids were. They ask Santa for a naughty present Benny’s happy to give them, but only when they’re not this high.

Read it on AO3

Snowflakes litter all over Benny's red coat as he walks towards the entrance of his apartment complex from his car. Even in the stairwell, he is still cold. He thought the coat of his Santa costume was warmer so he didn't bring anything to wear over it.

He takes the stairs two at a time as he rushes towards the warmth of the apartment he shares with his best friend, Dean, and Dean's boyfriend, Castiel. His cold fingers make it hard to find the right key for the door, but once he opens it, warmth washes over him.

As he's taking his boots off, he notices the smell of mulled wine in the air. He walks into the living room where he finds his roommates cuddling. Benny takes off his Santa hat and fake beard while he's walking closer.

"You two had mulled wine again?" he asks as he tosses his hat and beard on the coffee table. Having his own beard didn’t save him from the itchy fake one, as Jody and Donna's little girls would've recognised Uncle Benny in a minute without it. It was a close call even with the fake one.

"Look, Babe, Santa's here!" Dean exclaims while he tries to mute the tv, but the way he changes channels three times before managing it makes Benny wonder about his sobriety.

Dean is sitting on the far end of the couch, holding Castiel close. Benny sits down next to Castiel and looks over the small table to see what else they've drunk. There's nothing else besides two mugs, a small plate and Cas's water bottle.

"Did you two get this tipsy from mulled wine?"

"'Course not," Dean slurs.

When Dean doesn't explain further, Benny turns to Cas who says, "We made magic muffins."

"Cas said we should leave you some, but I got so hungry," Dean blurts out like a child who is caught stealing cookies.

Benny's in for a fun night with the high couple. Alex and Claire exhausted him with the bubbly energy only excited little girls have, so he won't be enjoying this night as long as he wants to. He hopes it'll be an easy ride to tuck his roommates into bed.

"I wanna sit on his lap." Castiel's stage whisper to Dean breaks Benny out of his thoughts.

The couple is always way too flirty with him, even when they're sober, let alone when they're tipsy, so he goes along. "Wanna tell me what you want for Christmas?" he asks.

His answer is giggles from both men before Castiel nods.

"Go on then," Benny taps his thighs.

When Castiel comes closer on the couch on unsteady knees and throws a leg over Benny, he's surprised. It's not the way he expected Castiel to sit on his lap, facing him and being so close.

Dean scoots closer to them on the couch, but he seems unfazed by Cas's behavior, which encourages Benny to ask, "Have you been a good boy, Castiel?"

The pair giggles again. Dean leans against Benny as he laughs, while Castiel burrows his head into the crook of Benny's neck.

"I've been so naughty, Santa," Cas whispers into Benny's ear.

"Oh no," Benny pretends disappointment, "bad boys don't get presents from Santa."

"I promise to be good next year," Cas rushes out while he leans back to look into Benny's eyes.

"Then you'll get a present next year," Benny smirks at him.

"What if it's for Dean?" An excited smile plays on Cas’s lips as he finds a loophole.

Acting like he contemplates the question, Benny moves into a more comfortable position under Cas’s weight. His question is for Cas, but he turns to Dean to ask, "Has Dean been a good boy?"

"I'm a good boy," Dean giggles while Castiel says, "Dean's always a good boy."

"Alright then,” Benny smirks at Dean before turning back to Cas, “what do you want for Dean?"

Castiel leans close again with a wicked smile, "I want you to tie him up with tinsel and fuck him hard while I watch you."

Benny is taken aback by Cas's bluntness. It's one thing to flirt, it's a whole another thing to ask your roommate to fuck your boyfriend. Not that Benny doesn't want to, but it takes him a moment before he can react.

"Naugty boys don't get to watch, Castiel," Benny teases.

Cas leans back again to fold his arms over his chest with a pout.

Dean lays his head on Benny's shoulder as he says, "You should put him on top of your tree, Santa." Dean is laughing at his own joke that's not even half as funny as he thinks it is, but Benny finds it endearing.

"I think I should put you both to bed," Benny says, turning more serious.

"Yes, please, Santa," Dean smirks up at Benny.

"Me too?" Cas asks hopefully, unfolding his arms to put them around Benny's shoulders.

"You too," Benny answers, knowing full well they're not talking about the same thing. "C'mon," he slaps Cas's thigh, making the man giggle again. He helps Castiel climb off of him before turning to Dean to get him on his feet.

Ushering the couple into their room, Benny’s surprised how easily they climb on their bed. When two pairs of hands grab Benny's red costume, he realizes he was naive. Trying to withstand the force of their pull, Benny says, "If you want me in your bed, you gotta ask me when you're both sober"

"But I'm horny now ," whines Cas. Beside him, Dean has given up and now he's sprawled out on the bed.

"Your boy's right beside you," Benny says as he manages to extract Cas's hands from his coat. Straightening up, he continues, "I bet he'll happily let you fuck him."

"But I want you to fuck him," Cas complains from the middle of the bed where he is still sitting.

"We'll talk about that tomorrow." With that, Benny makes a beeline for the door before either of them could launch themselves onto him.

Going back to the living room, he takes Cas's water bottle to the kitchen to fill it up. He finds Dean's bottle on the counter, already full. Dean always teased Cas for the bottle until he started asking Cas to give him some water when he had nothing else around him. After a fair amount of teasing, Cas got Dean his own bottle, which he always forgets somewhere.

With two bottles in hand, Benny walks back to the couple's room. Dean is lying in the same position Benny left him, but now Cas is snuggled up to him with his head buried in Dean's neck. As Benny gets closer, he realizes that Cas is in the process of sucking a mark on Dean's neck.

"Sorry for interrupting," he mumbles while he gets around the bed to Dean's side. He places the bottle on the nightstand and leans closer to look at Dean. He seems to be asleep with his mouth open, but Benny wants to check up on him, so he calls his name, "Dean?"

Dean opens one eye with a groan. "What?" he slurs, half asleep.

"Everything okay?" Benny asks while studying Dean.

Gaining interest in the conversation, Cas stops his ministrations of Dean's neck to look at his boyfriend.

"This bed is sooo comfortable," Dean says louder than necessary. "Like I'm laying on clouds, man," he finishes with some hand movements that hit Cas, but the man doesn't seem to be affected by it.

It makes Benny smile as he tells them, "You need anything, you let me know." Walking to the other side of the bed, he places Cas's water on the man's nightstand.

"He's so beautiful." Cas's voice makes Benny turn. Cas is on one elbow, staring at Dean who closed his eyes again. He lifts a hand to caress Dean’s face with a finger, but Dean bats it away.

"Yeah," Benny breathes, almost only to himself. "You both are."

When Cas takes his eyes away from Dean to look at Benny, he has a beaming smile on his face. Benny winks at him before turning to the door to leave. He hears snuffling, so he turns back one last time to see what's happening. Dean is on his side now, with Cas spooning him from behind.

Content that the couple is fine, Benny leaves them to sleep. He hopes they'll have enough courage to invite Benny to their bed tomorrow when they have a clear head.

Benny is an early bird, but Dean is right behind him on most mornings. Today, Benny’s alone in the kitchen to make some scrambled eggs with bacon on the side. He checked on Dean and Cas one more time last night, but he hasn't seen either of them since.

He places the last pieces of bacon in the pan when he hears footsteps from the hallway. They stop right when Benny thinks they would enter the kitchen. Then there’s whispering that Benny can’t understand.

“Morning,” Dean shuffles into the kitchen after the whispering stops.

“Good morning, Benny” Cas follows him.

“Hey,” Benny glances at them. Cas sits down at the table with his water bottle in hand, but Dean walks up to the counter to pour both of them coffee. Turning to Dean beside him, Benny asks, “Have you recovered from the giggles?”

Dean rolls his eyes without an answer. Benny smirks as he watches Dean shuffle back to the table with two mugs in hand. Turning back to the stove, Benny plates the last of the bacon.

He takes two plates into hand to place them in front of the couple before going back for his own. Dean and Cas are sitting opposite each other, so Benny decides to sit at the end of the table.

There’s silence after the quiet Dean and Cas’s thank yous. Benny is amused by the awkwardness of the other two. Cas is eating with downcast eyes, not sparing a glance at Benny, while Dean seems more comfortable, but not quite his usual self.

“So, uhm,” Dean stutters between bites of eggs. “Were the girls happy to meet Santa?”

“They were very excited, yes,” Benny answers shortly, not even trying to make it easy for the couple.

“Good,” Dean mumbles, “that’s good.”

“They were not the only ones who were excited to meet Santa last night.” Benny teases with a smirk. Cas almost chokes on his coffee while Dean lets out a snort.

“We just asked for some presents,” Dean looks at Benny, but he averts his eyes with a coy smile the moment Benny raises his eyebrows.

Benny’s surprised it’s Dean who goes along with the topic Benny just brought up while Cas was the more determined one last night. It fits their usual dynamic better, Benny thinks. Dean is outgoing and flirtatious, while Cas is quiet and amazing at pretending to be innocent, but Benny knows better by now.

Testing the waters, Benny says, “You were very naughty while doing so.”

“You know, Santa,” Dean plays along, “you could punish us-”

“Dean!” Cas’s horrified yell interrupts Dean. “We need to apologize,” he turns to Benny.

“No need for that, cher,” Benny turns serious. “Unless you don’t actually mean any of it.”

“We do, Benny,” Cas reassures him with a hand on his arm. “But it’s not the way we wanted to talk to you about it.”

“It’s also uhm not-” Pausing, Dean looks at Cas across the table. Benny doesn’t know how many times he’s witnessed their wordless communication, but it always amazes him when it happens in front of his eyes.

Breaking his eyes away from his boyfriend, Cas turns to Benny. “Sex is not all we want,” finishing Dean’s sentence, he nervously bites his bottom lip.

Benny is taken aback by this turn of events. He didn’t dare to hope it’s more than a couple’s experiment at a threesome. The feelings for Dean he long ago pushed deep down are bubbling back up. Dean’s gorgeous boyfriend allowing it all and being interested himself is a huge bonus Benny can’t wait to take advantage of.

“We can wait and see where it goes if it’s not what you want,” Dean rambles on, which makes Benny realize what signals his silence must have sent.

“Don’t feel pressured, Benny,” Cas squeezes Benny's arm, “we won’t make it awkward if you say no.”

“Calm down, you two,” chuckles Benny. “I was just thinkin’ ‘bout where to take you two for our first date.”

It’s the couple’s turn to stay silent as they process what Benny's just said. Cas lets out a long sigh while a beaming smile appears on Dean’s lips.

“Thank God,” Cas whispers before going back to his eggs and bacon.

“Thank Ash for the good quality weed,“ Dean says, still stunned.

Benny barks out a laugh with the couple following him. Cas’s trying not to spit out his breakfast while Dean takes the opportunity to steal a piece of bacon from his plate. Looking at the endearing sight in front of him, Benny can’t wait to take them out on a date, both together and separately.

[srsly-messed-up-fruitloop]

Tug of War (Ch 2)

prev - next

Word Count: 1,756

A month has passed since Danny and Wes had served their detentions (unfortunately Mr. Lancer’s favouritism didn’t extend to Casper’s basketball players). However, like always in the past, the chowder incident didn’t deter Wes from trying to expose him. And like before, Danny just ignored the lunatic’s attempts. At least he hasn’t tried taking any more of his stuff from their shared locker since.

Read on AO3 or under the cut

Slamming his locker shut, Danny made his way to find Tucker. It was Tucker’s suggestion to go on patrol right after school since he had something planned later in the evening. However, no matter how many times Danny asked, he wouldn’t say what that something was. Too bad Sam was on vacation now. For sure she would’ve been able to squeeze the truth out of him.

When Danny approached his friend, he was kneeling, with his entire upper body swallowed up his locker.

“Uh, Tuck?”

Without budging from his position, Tucker responded, “Yo Danny, just give me a sec. I just need to finish with this wiring.”

Danny just stood there, observing in the various tools surrounding his friend before his eyes finally settled on an empty box for a George Foreman grill.

“Tuck...you didn’t...”

“Aha!” Tucker exclaimed enthusiastically. He backed out of the locker and admired his work. “Now let’s test this baby out.”

Danny watched wordlessly as he plugged something in a makeshift AC outlet inside the locker. A light beaconed from the top shelf, and there he spotted the grill.

Meanwhile, Tucker jumped up in glee. “Yeah baby! Can’t wait for lunch tomorrow!”

“But…” Danny paused as he noticed the stack of textbooks on the floor by his feet. “What about your textbooks?

Tucker motioned to the empty space at the bottom of the locker. “Thank god Sam took home her shoes, I’m just gonna dump ‘em all there.”

“And Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“She’s going to be furious.”

“Let her, I’m doing her a favour. I’m pretty sure you can grill vegetables too,” Tucker said as he began cleaning up. 

Danny stooped down to help him. “How did you even get the time to do this?”

He shrugged. “Just did it all in my spare.”

“Wait, you have a spare?”

“Yeah, last period. You didn’t know?”

Danny struggled to recall if Tucker ever told him this. His mind has been a whirl since school started. “I guess I forgot. Hold up, why don’t you go straight home then? You don’t have to wait for us.”

“Nah dude it’s okay, I actually get a lot more done studying at the library here than the entire evening at home,” Tucker assured as he placed the last tool in his backpack. He stood up and fished out his PDA from his pocket, checking off ‘Install grill’ from his to-do list.

“I see what you mean,” Danny understood, remembering how much of a distraction his parents were at home. Now that Jazz had left for Stanford, it seems that his parents have doubled their efforts to spend time with him. He gets it, they missed Jazz a lot. And in less than a year he’ll be gone off to college too (hopefully). Still, they were pretty distracting, especially when they had a new invention or discovery to show off. Thankfully he had a spare next semester.

“So Tuck, before we start, are you gonna tell me your ‘special plans’ later?” he inquired for the last time, trying to inject as much ‘Sam’ into his voice.

“Nope,” he replied, popping the ‘p’.

Danny pouted. Before he could say anything else, he gasped when an icy fog escaped his mouth.

“Guess we’re starting patrol at the school today,” Tucker stated nonchalantly as he activated the ghost radar on his PDA. 

Looking both ways down the hall and confirming no one else was around, Danny transformed. 

Meanwhile, peering around the corner of the hallway in his basketball uniform, Wes seethed as he witnessed Fenton’s transformation for the seventeenth time! And like always, he didn’t have his camera with him. Why did basketball tryouts have to be today?

“Dammit!” he exclaimed, angrily stomping back to the gym.

How many times does he have to watch Fenton expose himself before the school finally takes a hint? Why are they so damn oblivious? Three years have passed and he still has yet to open anyone’s eyes to the truth! And Fenton has been masquerading as the town’s hero the entire time!

He doesn’t have much time left. Once he leaves for college, he’ll lose his chance. Sure, he could continue posting on his blog, but the seven visitors he gets every month either think it’s a joke or never heard of Danny Phantom. And who knows where Fenton’s heading after high school. He’d probably be stuck relying on his old evidence. Which isn’t even that effective, considering all the convincing it’s done so far. 

Time is running out. He refuses to let all these years go to waste. He’s dedicated his whole being to this. He cannot fail, he needs them to believe him. Otherwise, what has been his purpose all this time?

He can’t—they have to eventually believe him, right? He cannot go down that path again; the world needs him to prove this. 

He’s the only person who can. 

But what else he could do? He’s come to realize that Mr. Lancer gifted him the perfect opportunity to get close without faking being friends. Yet, except for the thermos that one day, Fenton hasn’t stored anything suspicious in their locker. Fenton must be keeping his weapons in his stupid sidekicks’ locker. That doesn’t help him at all!

There must some advantage to this sharing lockers thing. Some way...the memory of Fenton’s furious green eyes flashed through his mind. 

That’s right! Fenton’s temper brings out the ghost in him. And Wes has the perfect opportunity to get under his skin. Once the ghost loses control in front of everyone…

Then he’ll finally fulfill his purpose.

~

A yawn escaped from Danny as he trudged into school the next day. On autopilot, he grabbed his supplies from his bag and went to phase it into his locker. Except, when he leaned closer and his arm was halfway through the door, he stopped and sniffed. Something reeked.

Scrunching up his nose, he cautiously opened the door and cringed as the stench hit him full force. His eyes darted around the locker until they settled on the source of the offensive smell.

Wes’ basketball uniform. It was innocently lying crumpled at the bottom of the locker, but the stink it was emanating was criminal. He suddenly felt the urge to hurl. 

Didn’t Wes ever hear of deodorant? He didn’t know whether to feel disgusted or concerned. 

He was tempted to toss it into the trash bin in the hallway, but that would mean touching the smelly jersey and shorts.

Unable to stand it any longer, he kicked his locker shut and quickly retreated to his homeroom, backpack still on him. 

~

“Yo, Danny, you okay?” Tucker asked worriedly, noticing the sick look on his face when he sat down beside him.

Danny shook his head as he placed his books on the desk. “No. I…” he began, pausing when he saw his locker partner enter the classroom. “I need to talk to Wes,” he finished before abruptly standing up and striding towards him.

“What do you want, Fenton?” Wes coldly demanded. 

“You left your gym clothes in the locker.”

“Yeah, so? I’ll need them again for practice tomorrow.”

“Wes, they stink.”

“Yeah, right,” he scoffed before crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. “It’s not that bad. You should feel lucky you’re not sharing with any of the other jocks.”

“You’re hardly a jock.”

“At least I’m something. Something real. You—you parade around this false loser facade, but I know who you really are Phantom,” he declared, poking him right in the chest. “And one day I’ll expose your true colours to the whole world.”

Danny really wasn’t in the mood this morning. Batting away Wes’ accusing finger, he cut straight to the chase, “Look, please just don’t keep your bas—”

“No.”

The two boys met each other’s eyes in a glaring contest. Neither side wanted to back down. After a moment, Danny continued, “Why not?”

“I’m just as entitled to keep whatever I want in there as you are. You don’t hear me complaining about your ghost hunting equipment.”

He was truly starting to lose his patience now. “No. Instead, you take my lunch and get us detention for spraying it on everyone.”

“Any other day I could’ve exp—”

BRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING

The two boys jolted as the bell rang.

“We’re not finished here,” Danny grunted before heading back to his seat. Why didn’t he just get rid of that horrible stench right then and there? One ectoblast would’ve surely turned those clothes to ashes.

~

“Sausage?” Tucker offered when Danny sat at their lunch table.

Danny eyed the smoke swirling from the meat. “Did you just make those?”

“Yup, here, try one,” he said while picking up one with a pair of tongs.

Before accepting it, Danny muttered, “Sam is going to be so mad.”

“I know. Anyways, what went down between you and Wes this morning?”

Danny swallowed a mouthful of sausage before he started, “He left his clothes from basketball practice in our locker.”

“And...?”

“Tuck, they stink.”

“My dude...” He pulled out a can of Foley and pushed it across the table. “You’re lucky that we’re friends. I’ll let you borrow it, free of charge.”

Danny scrunched up his nose from an overly musky smell coming from the so-called cologne. “Tuck, this will just make it worse.”

Smirking, he smoothly replied, “Precisely. How do you figure I got Sam to take her shoes home?”

“Oh,” he realized, matching Tucker’s smirk with his own.

~

“FENTON, WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY CLOTHES?” Wes shrieked when he stomped over to his desk the next morning.

Feigning innocence, Danny raised an eyebrow and responded, “What are you talking about?”

“My uniform, you—YOU PROMISED YOU WOULDN’T TOUCH MY STUFF!”

“And I didn’t.”

“Liar.”

Technically, he wasn’t lying. He just sprayed a little Foley at a certain spot in their locker. Okay, maybe not a little.

“I didn’t touch anything. It’s not my fault you’re just realizing how much your clothes stink,” he shrugged indifferently.

“I’ll...I’ll get you back for this Fenton!” Wes promised before stomping back to his seat.

Danny turned to an amused-looking Tucker and they both began to snigger.

[animescenarios]

Hello! Can I ask a scenario about midorima have a crush on his female manager senpai at Shuutoku? His senpai is one year above him, and his crush is kinda one-sided because his senpai sees him as her little brother... but I want a happy ending though. If you don't mind, please? Thank you so much!

Okay I definitely wasn’t planning on it being that long but my inspiration suddenly appeared and I got carried away… hopefully you’ll like it! It was such a cute request.

“Why don’t you just confess?” the green haired boy sighed deeply and continued walking, not sparing a look at his best friend, annoyed by his question.

“Shut up Takao”

“Oh come on, what do you have to lose?”

“A lot, actually” Midorima thought but didn’t give Takao any reply. He’s been pestering him about this all the time recently, even though Midorima didn’t seem to be interested at all. In fact, he could point out at least three reasons why exactly he should not do what his best friend wanted him to.

First, you were the team’s manager. Someone who only spent time with him because they had to as he was a part of the team. Without it, they’d never even talk, not to mention anything else.

Second, you were such an amazing girl. His teammates knew damn well how many boys, his age or older, would approach you every day at school. Why would you want to choose him of all people?

Third, you mentioned it before and made it completely obvious that Midorima was like a little brother to you. Any time you two would talk, it was only friendly. You also had a habit of ruffling his hair - whenever you could reach the top of his head, obviously. You were the only person he allowed to touch his hair. Besides, all the little nicknames you would give him, saying they were cute. The nicknames were, not him.

Midorima could go on about the reason the idea of confessing his feelings to you was wrong and why he would never find courage to do it. For him there was just not the slightest hint of you liking him back and not even a single point making it reasonable for you to accept his confession.

Yet Takao kept bringing it up all the time. For Midorima it seemed like his best friend ignored his point but in reality, he wanted the green haired boy to at least try and get closer to you. Yes, as of now you didn’t consider him as a potential boyfriend, but who knows what might happen if he really wanted? How could you feel something more when all you two did was exchange simple sentences, strictly about basketball?

Takao knew Midorima well enough to know he would have to take the matter in his own hands if he wanted something to change. But this particular situation was a little too personal for him to stick his nose into it. The only thing that he could do is try and make his best friend change his mind and become a bit more optimistic. But it wasn’t that easy.

“Let’s compromise it a little, how about it?” the sentence, ending the few seconds of silence between them resulted in another sigh.

“What is it now?”

“You’ll approach her tomorrow after practice. Nothing big, no confessing, no dates, just approach her and ask about her day or something. You know, casual talk”

“And?”

“And we’ll see how she reacts. There’s no way you have a chance if you just keep hiding and avoiding any contact” Takao whined, obviously teasing his best friend. There was a moment of silence again. Soon they reached Midorima’s home and had to part ways.

“I’ll think about it” the green haired boy nearly whispered. Takao smiled and nodded at his words, clearly thinking of it as an agreement. At least they had some kind of a plan.

***

The next day practice went well, just like all the other times. The only thing different was in Midorima’s mind. His thoughts were rushing through his head, thinking about what he was about to do soon and of all the possible ways the situation could turn out. Trying to focus on his play so that it won’t get affected by his thoughts and not become visible how stressed he was, Midorima even received a compliment from you, of all people. He accepted it with a nod. Takao was the only one who could clearly tell how shook-up his composure was.

Eventually everyone started packing up their things, as you announced the end of today’s practice. Not to make it obvious that something was going on, Takao took his bag and left with the rest, giving a discreet thumbs up to his best friend who was really considering giving up. But he stayed, announcing that he’ll help you clean up the gym before leaving.

There was silence between you two as you focused on the task. Suddenly, as he bent to pick up a stray ball, he heard your voice from a small distance.

“Thank you for helping me” it was quiet but even though you weren’t facing him, Midorima could sense a smile in your tone. Actually, he was so relieved that you spoke up first and spared him the stress.

“No problem Y/N-san” he replied, feeling his chance approaching. “You work for us hard enough, it wouldn’t hurt to give you a hand sometimes”

“Still, thanks” you giggled.

“Actually, there was something I wanted to ask…” he paused suddenly, startled at what he was about to do. “It’s too early” he scolded himself mentally.

“What is it?”

He turned his head so that you couldn’t see the small blush creeping up to his face from the mistake he made. He kept quiet for a while, feeling the awkward silence bothering him more with each second as you were waiting for him to ask.

“How was your day?” a weak sentence came out of his mouth eventually. You gave him a bright smile and assured it went well. Somehow he also managed to describe his own day as well before both of you started to get ready to leave and soon left the gym, saying goodbye to each other and parting ways.

The moment you disappeared around the corner, Midorima sighed with relief and headed home. He was proud of himself. Surely, it wasn’t much, the atmosphere was awkward yet he felt like he achieved something. He talked to you, about something else than basketball for once. You even gave him such a beautiful smile.

Who knows, maybe it really could work? Maybe he had a chance? Not tomorrow, not the day after tomorrow, but maybe in a month or two?

Midorima smiled to himself unconsciously. All the stress left his body and he could finally think straight. And he was ready to talk to you again. It wouldn’t hurt to try…

[knives-out21]

Magnetic Pull - Erik Lehnsherr x Male!OC - Part 1

Fandom: X-Men: First Class (2011)

Pairing: Karmel Rosenstein (OC) x Erik Lehnsherr

Warnings: Spoilers for X-Men: First Class, Swearing, Internalized homophobia,

Notes: Welcome to Magnetic Pull, my 20-part-long Karmel x Erik series. I worked so hard on this and I’m extremely proud of it, so I hope you all enjoy!

Moira  stepped in front of Charles' way, going to shake his drunk hand."Congratulations, Professor" she smiled.

"Thank you very much" he furrowed his eyebrows, not recognizing her."This is much harder than it looks, actually" Charles waved the long vial he chugged from, having Moira shake her head.

"No, on your presentation" Moira corrected.

"Oh, you were at my presentation? How nice of you, thank you very much."

"Moira Mactaggert" Moira introduced.

"Charles Xavier" Charles replied, going to shake her hand again.

"Do you have a minute?"

"For a pretty little bean with a mutated MRC-one gene? I have five" Charles answered, going to quickly touch Moira's hair. He led her to a table, putting his free arm around her shoulders."I say 'MCR-one', you would say 'auburn hair'" he sat them down."It's a mutation. It's a groovy mutation. Mutation, right" Charles leaned in."Took us from single-celled organisms to the dominant form-"

Moira cut him off, waving her hand and looking down for a moment."You know what? This routine may go over great with co-eds, but, I'm here on business."

"What?"

"I really need your help."

Charles paused, thinking."Alright" he softly spoke.

"The kind of mutations that you were talking about in your thesis. I need to know if they may have already happened...in people alive today."

Charles slowly went to press a couple fingers to his temple, to look through Moira's mind and memory. His eyes went wide at what he saw that Moira saw, the girl calling "Professor?" When he just stared at her. Charles chuckled in an airy tone, raising his head.

"I think we should just talk when you're sober. Do you have any time tomorrow? There's someone I think you'd like to meet."

"Something tells me you already know the answer to your question" Charles told, a small grin on his face."This is very important to me, and if I can help you, I will do my utmost."

"Thank you" Moira whispered, smiling once again.

***

Moira and Charles reunited (both parties completely sober) first thing the following morning, Moira having taken Charles to a library in the city.

"Why are we at a library? I'm a professor now, I don't need to read up on anything" Charles reminded.

"We're not here for reading, Professor. In case you don't remember, last night I told you that there's someone I'd like you to meet. He happens to work here, now come on" Moira answered, leading Charles up the front steps and into the library.

The lady at the front desk automatically smiled at them when they entered, the two smiling back as they walked by.

"Nice people.”

"Not all of them" Moira shook her head, eyes darting around as if looking for someone."I sometimes wonder why someone with the powers he most likely has would work at a library" she started, leading Charles down a random aisle of books."But then again, librarians have a high salary. And who wouldn't enjoy telling people to be quiet for a lot of money?"

"You've got a point there" Charles raised an eyebrow when Moira took a book off the shelf, examining the photo of the bright flower on the cover. He read the titles of the other books."Books about flowers, what are we gonna do to search for him if we look at books about flowers?"

"Trust me. If we're in this aisle, he'll come. Now act busy. Or confused, like you can't find a book. Or both; he'll come" Moira instructed.

Charles nodded, taking a random book off the shelf about...terrariums? Whatever. He inspected it, eyebrows furrowing- maybe his mansion could do with a terrarium or two.

"Hi there, the name's Karmel. Anything you need help searching for?"

"Bingo" Charles heard Moira breathe, the two of them turning to the right.

There stood a man, about around six feet or less, with short, dirty blond hair, and deep blue eyes. He notably was wearing dark pants, a white button-up shirt, black leather jacket and a (faded, but) patterned tie. The man was discreetly chewing gum, as if he was hiding the fact that he was doing so on the job.

Charles decided to spare him the embarrassment by not pointing it out.

"Karmel" Moira repeated.

Karmel looked like he recognized her."Oh, Moira" he coughed, "nice to see you back so soon. What'd'ya need with books 'bout flowers?"

"I only needed them because I knew they'd summon you."

"Ah, jeez-" Karmel giggled, turning away. He locked eyes with Charles, eyebrows jumping."Uh, Karmel" Karmel repeated, outstretching his hand, "Karmel Rosenstein."

"Charles Xavier. Friend of Moira's?"

Karmel shrugged.

"Acquaintances, actually? Mutual friend" Charles corrected.

Karmel furrowed his eyebrows."Yea...How did you- never mind- you?"

"Very recently acquainted. She brought me here to meet you."

Karmel's eyes went wide."Uh- w-why? Why'd you need to meet me? What's happening? Moira, I- I don't like boys, but it's fine if you do Charles, but I-"

Moira raised a hand, putting back the book she was holding and cutting Karmel short."I didn't bring Charles here to set him up with you, I know you like girls. I brought him here because I feel that you both have something in common."

"An obvious interest in girls?" Karmel insisted, hands on his hips.

"No- well, yes, but not that. Karmel, could you get me a book off of the top shelf?" Moira asked, looking up at the tall shelf to her left.

Karmel looked up, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue."Yea, for sure, lemme just get a ladder-" he turned to walk away to grab a ladder.

"Karmel." Moira called, Karmel turning back around.

"What?"

Charles looked between the two of them, Moira crossing her arms as she looked at Karmel expectantly.

Karmel looked back at Moira, taking his hands out the pockets of his jacket. He sighed, letting them hang at his sides."Fine." Karmel looked around, making sure no one else was in view. Once he knew the coast was clear, he took off his jacket, handing it to Moira, who obediently held it. Karmel raised his hands, looking up at the very top shelf. 

Charles watched in awe as vines emerged from behind Karmel's back, waving up the high shelf and grabbing a random book off the top, and pulling it back down. 

Karmel grabbed the book in both hands, looking down awkwardly as the vines shrunk back down behind his back. He traded the book for his jacket, putting it back on swiftly."There."

Charles exhaled, a smile on his face."Amazing. How long have you been able to do that for?"

Karmel gulped, shushing Charles."Ever since I was like, twelve, maybe? A while, basically."

Moira smiled at Charles, "I told you you'd like him."

Karmel furrowed his eyebrows.

Moira turned back to him."We need your help."

"Please." Charles added, looking at him hopefully.

Karmel's gaze repeatedly switched between the two of them, mouth opened slightly."Alright. What's up?"

[firebrands]

acta non verba

Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, T, college AU, 2.5k words

fill for stony bingo prompt: gladiator

also onao3

*

There are few things in academia that Tony actively dislikes, and being called to his lab advisor’s office after class is definitely one of them.

 Tony fidgets as he stands in front of his professor’s large oak table.

 “You can sit,” Dr. Pym says, motioning to the couch across his table. Tony doesn’t move, hoping that by standing up, they can keep this discussion short.

 “After the explosion last week—” his professor starts, and Tony immediately opens his mouth to defend himself. Unfortunately, Pym has spent a sufficient amount of time with Tony, and raises a finger to silence him before Tony can make a sound. “—we believe that the best way you can give back to the school is to serve your mandatory hours tutoring,” he finishes.

 A moment passes. 

 “I would rather die,” Tony says emphatically.

 “Spare me the theatrics, Tony,” Pym says, sighing. “Just two hours, twice a week. We have some engineering, math, and physics students who’ll do this as well, so you’ll only have one tutee.”

 “From where?” Tony grinds out. “Can’t I just… make a program to teach math…?” he asks hopefully.

 “While that would be fantastically helpful, I don’t want you spending more time on something that can be solved by just showing up,” Pym says primly. He pushes a piece of paper across his desk. “We’re having the orientation tomorrow morning.”

 Tony wants to throw a tantrum, because morning? Tutoring? Tutoring in the morning? But he also knows that battles with Pym rarely ever end in his favor, so he doesn’t. 

 Instead, he finds satisfaction in slamming Pym’s door as he leaves.

 *

 Tony, after two years in university, has come to realize that a lot of it is about weighing costs. This is what he tells himself as he takes two steps at a time to get to the assigned room Pym had given him. It’ll be even more annoying if I don’t do this, Tony reassures himself, as he pulls open the door.

 “Nice of you to join us,” says Pym coolly. He motions to an empty chair, and Tony sags into it, breathless from his mad dash from his dorm room to the classroom. Tony doesn’t have time to survey the rest, instead focuses on blinking away the spots in his vision. Too early to be this tired , he thinks.

 Pym talks about the importance the school gives on providing support for all students, or something, Tony isn’t really paying attention, even if his condition has stabilized.

 “Since you’re all from different colleges, we’ve partnered you up.” A table flashes on screen with their names. “Let’s go around the room introducing ourselves.”

 Tony rolls his eyes and plays videogames on his phone as people introduce themselves. Eventually, he’s called to stand. “Tony,” he says, then sits back down.

 Eventually, people stand to introduce themselves; again, Tony isn’t really paying attention, until someone hovers beside him awkwardly.

 “Hi,” says the hoverer.

 Tony sighs, and looks up, meaning to say “hi,” in the least friendly way possible just because it’s 9AM and no one should ever be friendly in the morning.

 He meant to say that.

 Now he’s just staring at the beautiful, blonde, buff guy standing beside him. His shirt is a size too small, and Tony wants to write a check to whoever told him that it was the right fit. Good lord, Tony thinks. And then the rational part of his brain, small as it is, finally catches up with him.

 “Hey,” Tony says, doing his best to sound suave.

 “I’m Steve,” he says, offering a hand. Tony shakes it. A good grip. A good hand. Oh, god. His thoughts on Steve’s hand stutter to a halt when Steve tells him what he’s taking.

 “An art student?” Tony scoffs. 

 Said art student raises an eyebrow in response.

 “Why are you even taking a math class?” 

 “It’s part of the curriculum?” Steve’s brows knit together and that’s when Tony realizes: hey, he’s even cuter when he’s annoyed.

 “Okay well I’m only ever free Tuesday and Thursday evening,” Tony says. 

 Steve bites his lip and looks irritated. “Fine. I can move stuff around. You better be fucking great at math,” he huffs.

 “Oh darling, I’m fucking great at a lot more than math,” Tony smirks.

 Steve, god bless him, blushes.

 *

 Steve’s late for their first session. They’d chosen the study hall for their lessons; it was situated right at the midway point between their two colleges, and it was usually only filled up by quiet freshmen (the library, on the other hand, was filled with over caffeinated seniors, which didn’t sound very productive to be around).

 Tony’s scribbling calculations about the battery he’d been trying to figure out when Steve comes rushing in. “Sorry I’m late, but I got you coffee to make it up to you,” Steve says, and Tony hides a smile by taking a sip of coffee.

 Steve’s wearing a dark blue henley that brings out the color in his eyes and Tony thinks that he should probably inform Dr. Pym that he is no longer qualified to tutor as he’s going to lose his damn mind.

 When Steve starts solving the problems on the worksheet Tony prepared,  Tony sends Rhodey a message: Oh no. hes stupid cute.

Rhodey immediately responds: ur so dumb istg

 Steve touches Tony’s arm to get his attention. “Okay, I don’t understand how you got from this,” he motions to his calculations, “to this,” he finishes, pointing at the equation Tony had written out.

 Tony stares at the problem equation, then casts a glance at Steve’s hand on his arm. He wants Steve’s hand everywhere, he thinks, with a hint of mania. 

 Steve follows Tony’s gaze and snatches his hand away. Tony tries not to weep at the loss, and instead writes out step by step how he got to the solution.

 After an hour, Tony stands up to get another cup of coffee, and he’s so distracted by the weight of Steve’s hand on his arm that now he can’t remember where they were sitting. Tony peers around and spots Steve resting his face on his palm, seemingly lost in thought.

 Tony stares, memorizing the slant of his nose, the soft curl of his lips.

 And then he walks straight into the glass door.

 Thankfully, the coffee is safe. Tony’s reputation, not so much: everyone had turned to look, and Steve covers up a laugh with his hand.

 “Don’t laugh, do your worksheet,” Tony hisses, sitting back down beside Steve.

 Steve continues to chuckle as he does his calculations. 

 Now it’s Tony’s turn to cover his mouth with his hand, horrified by how fond his smile is.

 *

 “Earth to Tony!”

 Tony looks up from his laptop, where he was preparing a new worksheet for Steve. “What?”

 Rhodey frowns. “I was asking what you wanted to get for lunch.”

 “Whatever you’re getting, honeybear,” Tony responds absently, still tweaking equations as Rhodey huffs and walks away.

 Tony’s reviewing the worksheet when Rhodey comes back with their meals and gently pushes down the monitor of Tony’s laptop to get his attention.

 “Okay! Okay already!” Tony screeches, snatching his laptop away from Rhodey’s reach and saving the file before folding it shut. “Jeez,” he says.

 “Didn’t think you’d have it this bad,” Rhodey smirks, digging into his mashed potatoes.

 “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tony sniffs, removing the plates of food from his tray and arranging them on the table. “It’s—it’s not that big of a deal,” he says. “Totally harmless, he’ll be out of my hair in a few months.”

 “You guys are a walking thinkpiece about the need to bridge the gap between STEM and humanities,” Rhodey says, rolling his eyes.

 *

 Tony spends more and more time with Steve, eventually meeting his friends (and vice versa). It’s nice, mostly because having more friends means more people forcing him out of the lab and forcing him to live a life, which—it’s nice.

 None of these things matter, of course, at 3 in the afternoon on a Saturday, where Tony is sitting on the floor of Rhodey’s dorm room with his head in his hands.

 Thor pats Tony’s head consolingly. “You could try and talk to him?”

 “He doesn’t like me that way, okay?” Tony’s voice is small, muffled by his position.

 Rhodey groans. “Everyone can see it,” he says.

 “That he doesn’t like me?” Tony asks despairingly. 

“No, that he does like you,” Thor says, rubbing Tony’s back. “Like, everyone. Both sides.”

 Tony curls even deeper into himself. “Yeah, but you’re all idiots,” he mewls.

*

The October air is crisp with the onset of autumn, and Steve lets out an exasperated puff of breath as he pulls up the blanket draped over his shoulder. Sam raises an eyebrow in response.

 Behind them, Bucky slams the door to their apartment shut with a triumphant woop, and begins hustling Steve and Sam down the street: “Let’s go! ”

 Steve’s toes are cold in the night air, and he has never hated Halloween more in his life. Yes, even more than that one time his mom and Bucky’s mom had plotted against him and dressed the two of them up as Woody and Buzz, forcing them to go around the neighborhood much to ten year old Steve’s chagrin.

 “I hate costumes so much ,” Steve whines, and it’s likely the fifth time he’s said it this evening alone, but it bears repeating. Sam and Bucky roll their eyes in tandem. 

 *

 Thor’s house is noisy and cramped and Steve bites down hard on any more complaints, instead making a beeline for the kitchen. Sam and Bucky follow after him, carrying a bottle of tequila and vodka each. 

 Of course, the kitchen isn’t any better—in fact, it’s worse. Still, Steve needs a drink, or fifty, to make this night somewhat bearable. The things he did for his friends, really.

 Thor is in the kitchen, dressed as a pirate (wide brimmed hat and eyepatch included). He’s talking to a guy dressed up as a gladiator, wearing a gold chestplate on top of red robes, and as they approach, Steve realizes who it is.

 “Tony!” Bucky grins, draping an arm around the shorter man and pressing a kiss to his cheek. Tony smiles up at him and the disentangles himself to give Sam a quick hug. “Elvis and… hot professor?” Tony asks, turning from Bucky to Sam, respectively. 

 Sam is clearly taken aback, but before he can correct Tony, Bucky says, “and obviously you went above and beyond with the costume again.”

 Tony preens, and Steve has to wrench his eyes away from the way muscles in Tony’s arms flex as he wipes nonexistent dust off his chest plate. “What can I say? Not all of us can come in wearing a blanket and look as good as him,” he says as he nods at Steve, who's wearing a toga and a crown made of fake golden laurel leaves. 

 “Ugh,” Steve says, eloquent as ever.

 Tony takes this as an opportunity to keep teasing. 

 “Oh boys,” Tony says as he’s approaching Steve, “did you oil him up?” He traces a finger down Steve’s bicep.

 Steve flinches away. 

 Sam laughs. “That’s just his sweat,” he says. 

 Now it’s Tony’s turn to laugh and Steve fights down a blush as he begins looking around for something to drink. 

 *

 So the party’s pretty fun, and it was a blessing in disguise that Steve was barely wearing anything. It’s so crowded in the house, and everyone is sweating. 

 Steve bends down to pull out a beer from one of the coolers stationed strategically around the house and when he straightens back up, Tony’s standing right in front of him. Steve, momentarily disoriented by how stupidly hot Tony is, hands him his bottle of beer.

 Tony, the unflappable flirt, winks at Steve.

 Steve’s however many drinks in, so it’s not his fault that he’s flustered. It’s awful, how flustered he is. 

 Tony laughs, and blows him a kiss as he’s walking away.

 Steve turns to the cooler and briefly considers just dunking his head into the ice water.

 *

 Natasha passes Steve the joint, angling her head away from him as she blows out a cloud of smoke. 

 She juts her chin forward, motioning at the general area where Tony is currently talking to Bucky. Tony looks regal, which is crazy considering he’s wearing sandals, to match the rest of his costume. Still, Steve lets his eyes wander over the expanse of exposed flesh. Tony’s legs, Tony’s arms—Steve swallows as he checks out Tony’s ass.

 “You two should take a picture. It’s cute,” she says, jolting Steve out of his thoughts. Natasha smirks, fully aware of what Steve was doing.

 Steve does not deign to respond, and scowls at her as he takes a hit.

 “Why are you so huffy?” Natasha asks, rolling her eyes.

 “It’s just like,” Steve says, passing her the joint, “you know! He’s just fucking with me.”

 Natasha’s face crumples with disbelief. “You are so dumb.”

 *

 Steve is leaning back on the couch, watching the strobe lights make patterns on the ceiling. He’s having fun, even if he’s just seated with his legs sprawled out in front of him. This is what a good time is like, for Steve: a little tipsy, a little stoned, and very comfortable. He’s not really into parties, much less costume parties, but Sam and Bucky had forced him to come. But they all shared in the knowledge that Steve only agreed because he knew Tony would probably be at Thor’s party, too.

 After a while, Steve gets bored of the lights and he toys idly with the label of his beer bottle, and startles out of his concentration when Tony flops down beside him.

 “Hey,” he says. “You good?”

 “Yeah.” Steve smiles slowly and nods at him. 

 Tony leans against Steve’s bare arm and Steve has never felt so happy to be in costume in his life, he thinks serenely. He hazards resting his hand on Tony’s leg, reassuring himself that if Tony said anything, Steve would just laugh it off and say he was drunk and high (which is sort of true). 

 Thankfully, Tony doesn’t say anything. Instead, he spreads his legs a bit wider, pressing his thigh against Steve’s. 

 Steve lets out a shaky breath. 

 Tony turns to look up at him, his chin resting on Steve’s shoulder. Their eyes meet, and they stare at each other for a moment; Steve can feel Tony’s shallow breaths, can smell the alcohol on him, along with a hint of tobacco. Where would Tony have a pocket to keep cigarettes? Steve thinks, as he continues to chart the plains and valleys of Tony’s face, from the thick lines of his eyebrows to the soft swell of his lips. Steve bites his lip, and he sees that Tony’s eyes flick down at the movement.

 Tony looks up at him again, and he offers Steve a small, apologetic smile.

 “I want to kiss you,” he whispers.

 Steve smiles and leans forward, finally locking their lips together.