#everyone please just bear with this for a second I promise it will dissipate in a months time

[spoofaloofa]

History class puts you in incredibly strange situations. Why am I becomingf a Watergate nerd

[fanfics4all]

Banished

Request: Yes / No  roan x reader (smut preferably) where you get banished from skaikru about a month in after landing on earth and you meet roan. since he’s wounded and you’re a healer you patch him up and end up travelling together and become rlly close?? idk i read your trick or treat fic and it was my favourite roan fic i’ve read (and i’ve read them all...no shame)😭 @szhead31​

Requests are closed <3 Have a nice day/night

Roan x Fem!Reader 

Word count: 1735

Warnings: SMUT!

Y/N: Your Name 

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“What do you mean I’m kicked out?” I asked Clarke and Bellamy. 

“Y/N, you’ve been a danger to the camp.” Bellamy said with his arms crossed. 

“A danger? I’m a damn healer!” I shouted. 

“And half of the people in our infirmary are because of you!” He shouted back at me. 

“Enough!” Clarke shouted, stopping anything before it started. 

“Y/N, Bellamy’s right. You’ve been fighting everyone in camp and with the Grounders wanting to kill us, we need to think of the bigger picture.” She said and I scoffed. 

“Ya know what? I don’t even care anymore. Screw all of you and I hope the Grounders kick your ass!” I shouted and stormed out of the dropship. I went to my tent and grabbed my shit then left without another word. Those assholes can kiss my damn ass. 

*One Month Later*

I was out hunting in the snow. I don’t entirely remember how I got here, but I was alive so that’s all that matters. I had the perfect angle on the deer I was hunting when all of a sudden a scream scared it away. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I groaned. I decided that I should run and see who was screaming. Maybe someone from camp got lost and I could fix them up, it was the damn doctor in me… If I heal them maybe they’ll see I’m not as bad as everyone says I am! I pushed myself to run faster and found a man leaning against a tree with a serious wound in his stomach. I’m honestly surprised his guts weren’t falling out. I kneeled down by his side and quickly pulled out my supplies. 

“Who are you?” He asked with a groan. 

“I’m here to help, who are you? What happened?” I asked as I started to work on his stomach. 

“I am Roan, Prince of Azgeda.” He answered then hissed in pain. 

“Don’t move, I need to disinfect it before I stitch you up. Here, bite on this.” I said and pushed a cloth into his mouth. He bit down on it and continued my work. It took about a half hour to patch him up enough to get him somewhere safe. 

“Where did you learn to do that?” He asked as we were walking through the forest. 

“My Father was a doctor, he taught me everything I know.” I answered with a small smile. 

“Your Father taught you well.” He said, returning my smile. 

“Up ahead, there’s a small cabin I found, I’ve been staying there.” I said and pointed at the building ahead. He nodded and the two of us quickly but carefully made our way into the cabin. I laid him on the bed and checked his wound again. 

“If you’re a Prince, what are you doing out here alone? Shouldn’t you have guards with you?” I asked. 

“I was banished so my people could join with the Commander.” He said sadly. 

“Your parents banished you?” I asked shocked and he nodded sadly. 

“Why are you out here on your own?” He asked and I bit my lip. 

“Same reason you are. I was banished because my people thought I was more dangerous than the Grounders.” I answered and his eyes widened slightly. 

“Why?” He asked. 

“I was a healer to my people, there weren’t many, but the two people that basically put themselves in charge kicked me out because I kept fighting people. Those people talked a lot of shit about me and I was just making sure they knew not to mess with me, turns out that putting your own people in the infirmary while at ‘war’ isn’t a great idea.” I half laughed. 

“How long have you been out here?” He asked. 

“About a month, maybe a little more.” I shrugged. 

“You’re strong.” He smiled and his eyes slowly started to close. 

“Get some rest, I’ll check on you in the morning.” I said and walked off to make myself food. 

*Another Month Later* 

Roan had healed well. He was strong and wanted to get better. He was actually a very good patient and did everything I asked of him. The two of us got to know each other while he was healing and he was amazing. At first he was pretty reserved and hesitant to let me into his life, but eventually he opened up to me. He was sweet with a very strong sense of loyalty. When he was finally better I thought he would just leave, which broke my heart at the thought, but he stayed. He explained to me how he was a bounty hunter and asked me to join him on his adventures. I had agreed, but we always ended up coming back to the cabin we now claimed as ours. The two of us knew we had developed feelings for one another, but we never fully confessed. Sure we acted like a couple, but it was never solidified. That was until we got snowed in our cabin with no way of leaving. 

“I suppose it’s good that we got extra food yesterday when we were out.” I said and Roan smiled. 

“I suppose you’re right.” He said and joined me in the bed. Roan pulled me towards him and I rested my head on his chest. We sat in silence, revelling in the warmth that our bodies gave to each other. After a few minutes Roan pulled my face up to look at him and he did something unexpected. He held my chin with two of his fingers and gently kissed me. I was breathless when he broke away, his eyes shining as he admired me. 

“What was that for?” I whispered. 

“I just finally got the courage to confess how I feel.” He said and I smiled with a slight blush dusting my cheeks. 

“I feel the same way.” I said and kissed him again. The kiss started off as sweet and loving, but it quickly turned hotter. The two of us were feeling each other’s bodies and enjoying the feelings. When Roan dipped into my pants I pulled away. 

“Wait, I’ve… I’ve never done this before.” I said, blushing deeply and looked away. Roan grabbed my face and made me look at him. 

“Let me teach you. We’ll be nice and warm after.” He said with a small smirk. There was something about Roan that made me trust him with all of my heart. 

“Okay…” I whispered. Roan pulled my shirt off and then my pants were quick to follow. My arms immediately went to cover my chest. 

“What about you?” I asked. He smirked and rid himself of his clothing, naked. Roan gently pried my arms from my chest and smiled. 

“Beautiful.” He hummed and kissed me, making my cheeks turn pink. 

“No need to be shy, Y/N.” He promised. He gently pushed me to lay on the bed and his lips went to my chest. 

“Roan…” I breathed, lacing my fingers into his brown hair. He pulled my underwear from me and looked up at me for consent. I gave him a small nod and he moved to my entrance. The sensation was overwhelming as his cock entered my pussy for the very first time. Delightful flashes of tingles coursed through my body. It felt amazing, until he broke through the one thing that indicated I was indeed a virgin. I grunted at the sharp burst of pain in my pussy. He held still, deep within me. 

“Are you alright? Did I hurt you?” He whispered in my ear. My breathing was fast and shallow as I felt my walls absorbing his shaft. The sharp pain dulled to an ache, but was slowly overcome by a heavenly feeling of fullness. The tingles from him pressing against my clit increasing as his body moved subtly with each of his deep breaths. 

“It’s okay… I’m fine.” I finally whispered. Roan’s hips pulled back slowly, his gaze still concentrated on my face, probably looking for any signs of pain. He stopped with the head of his cock placed just in the entrance on my pussy. He teased me for only a moment, making me moan and grip the sheets. 

“Please don’t tease.” I begged. 

“Sorry love.” He said and pushed back inside me. One of his hands found my clit and I arched my back as he played with it. My muscles eased, allowing the pain to dissipate. Roan’s thrusts began to build pressure in my stomach and stars in my eyes. The soft pleasure washed over me with ease. My breaths were coming out in shallow stutters as I tried to hold back my orgasm. I was throbbing around Roan and he could feel every second of my building pleasure. 

“Roan, fuck!” I choked out as I withered on the bed. 

“Harder, harder please!” I begged, squeezing my eyes shut. Roan leaned down, capturing my lips in a messy but loving kiss as he did what I wanted. The ache in my every muscle released all at once. A shudder ran through my body as my orgasm took over me. 

“You look so beautiful when you cum like that.” Roan praised, and it only made it better. Roan pulled my legs over his shoulders and hit a deeper spot inside me. 

“Oh my God!” I shrieked. My back arched off the bed as Roan slid into me with the deep, angled thrusts. My moans were loud, escaping my lips with every other thrust he made. His hips rolled against mine with his hand still trying to pull another orgasm from me. I gripped the sheets tighter as I jolted upward from his powerful force. 

“Oh fuck! Roan!” I screamed, pleasure bursting through my veins. I was cumming for a second time tonight.

“Oh Y/N!” He moaned as he came inside me. I whined when he pulled out of me. He gave a small chuckle and pulled me into him under the blanket. 

“Warmer?” He asked and I nodded. 

“That was amazing.” I sighed happily. 

“We can do that as often as you want.” He smiled and I captured his lips in a kiss. 

“I think I want to do that all the time.” I said and he laughed. 

“Whatever you want, my Princess.” He said and I smiled. This was what earth was all about. This was my new start.

Tag list: @les-bio-lie​ @tashy-bear​ @ashwarren32​ @hollie-blogs-blog1​ @schisbro87​ @lover-of-books-and-teas​ @nerdygaloresposts​ @teenwolfbitches28​ @genius2050​ @drw0301bieber​ @lady-of-lies​ @ravenmoore14​ @ravenempress101​ @cillianchamp​ @rowanthomasknapp​ @rachelxwayne​ @emo-godess-loves-you​ @now-imagine​ @bruisedfists-and-splitlips @vanessa-kom-skaikru​

[slowpoke-fics]

Calm | Mate Series

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Pairing: Derek x Reader

Summary: new information comes to light, you answer a few questions, the pack cools down

Warnings: violence, past character death (reader's parents), I could be missing some but I don't think so but please read at your own risk

A/N: Previous Chapter | five | Next Chapter

And sweet, sweet, Derek didn't miss a syllable.

He let out a rumble, fighting with himself, staring down Peter, "You need to leave, we're upsetting Y/n," Derek speaks to Peter as calmly as he can, you can feel his need to protect you shine through his anger. Peter takes you in, his features softening and becoming more human as he notices the state of you. Clearly upset, an uneasiness coming off of you, no doubt because of the atmosphere that surrounds you.

"Y/n," Peter spoke softly, "I knew your parents. Please let me explain." You looked to your mate, anxious, but willing. "Fine," Derek spoke, "but the second you misstep, you're out." Derek huffed moving to take Stiles place, mindlessly placing his hands on you in an attempt to comfort you and himself. Derek let Stiles find a place next to you so he could continue to hold your hand, something that no question comforted Stiles as much as it did you.

Peter walked just a foot or two from you and Derek glared at him, but you reached a hand up to Derek to calm him as you felt him ready to attack Peter. "Y/n Y/l/n, Alpha of the Sun Crest Clan, as I live and breathe." Peter's eyes filled with sympathy as he spoke to you, "I knew your mom and dad, you had just been born when they'd realized someone was wiping the pack. We'd stayed in contact for a good while and whenever they needed anything I'd do anything I could. God, you must've been eight the last time I saw you?"

Recognition flickered over your face, you smiled, turning to Derek, "Oh I really wish I didn't hate him! I knew him when my dad was still alive!" You lifted your hand up, twisting as you beamed at Derek, excitedly hitting Derek's chest. Derek was happy to see that there is light in this, but was on guard because it was Peter.

"When I was a child, when me and my mom first went on the run, Peter, oh you'll never believe it, god I really fucking hate him," you giggled as Peter mumbled, "Alright, now, that's starting to get offensive." You took another breath, laughing still, "Peter would come visit us every now and again when I was a child, but he really helped after my dad passed."

Stiles was shocked, "Peter? Peter the I'm going to kill you all, Peter? Funny."

Derek snarled as Peter reached forward, grabbing your hand. Peter held your hand for a moment, locking eyes with you, "I want you to know, I made an oath to your mother that if anything happened, I'd take you in as my own. That oath holds true." You smiled at Peter, he kissed your hand and moved next to Malia. You smiled at Peter, "Be that man again and it's a start. You helped me and my mom, and that's enough for a chance."

"So," Liam finally spoke up, sitting not even a foot from you, "How are your eyes red?" You shrugged at that, "That one's been a stumper for me and Deaton." Everybody's eyes were still on you, causing your anxiety to spark, Derek's hand on your neck continuing to try ad sooth you. Stiles has started making some cookies as you talked. He's already heard most of this and can happily make food to lighten the mood.

"Deaton is a well respected emissary, and good at keeping secrets. He's helped me understand a lot about the Sun Crest pack, what I was meant to be and who we were." Scott smiles, he only has fond things to say about Deaton. "I could help you understand more, I was really close with your mom," you glared at Peter as he spoke, Derek making his eyes glow in an attempt to intimidate Peter. "Not like that, she was a good friend, really kept me on the right path for a few years."

Sadness filled your essence, Derek's heart pinching for a moment. "Yeah, she was a good woman, truly." You rubbed the table, "There are lots of options," you sighed, "could be that I'm the last of my line, so the power is mine," you reached up to place your hand on Derek's, "could be that I found my mate," you brought your knees to your chest, "or it could be that I've been a bear witness to two alphas making peace, which is what the Sun Crest pack does-did. Brought together rival packs, kinda like a peaceful negotiator of two alphas," you continued, sighing, "or-" Derek stopped you, "I think we get it, still learning."

Isaac looked at you, "Why hide?" Your heart twinged with pain, feeling a strong connection to your pack and not wanting to hurt anyone. "I-I don't know. I was scared, I don't know much. I do know I spent years of my life on the run from people I didn't even have a name for. I barely know anything about my line, what our packs history is-" Peter sighed, sensing your loneliness he interjected, "I know enough that I might be able to help you with some of that, your mother was a kind woman who saw the good in me, I'd be willing to talk to you about it anytime."

Derek looked at Peter, studying him, his scent, his heartbeat, and body language all speaking truth, before speaking up, "What do you know Peter?" Peter smirked at Derek, "My oath is to the little wolf, not you." You looked to Isaac first, addressing his question, "I'm sorry, I was so lost I was just doing," your eyes started darting to the rest of the pack as you sighed, "what I thought would keep everyone alive." Isaac gave you a half hearted smile, "We could've helped you, but you-" Isaac sighed, "You lied to us. Put yourself in danger. Us in danger we couldn't even see." You started twiddling your thumbs, guilt rushing you, "I did what I had to." Isaac scoffed, "What else are you lying about, I mean-" Scott stopped Isaac, "That's not fair, how many secrets have you had? Have I? Lydia? Liam? Anyone wanna jump on the high horse? We all keep secrets, this is no different." Derek put his hand on Scotts shoulder, thanking him for his support.

Stiles pulled the cookies out, smiling as Erica was first in line for several cookies. "So," Erica started, "does this mean you start training soon?" You looked to Derek, trying to tell him no. Derek smiled, his thumb gently rubbing your jawline, taking a deep breath. "Uhm," he started, "I think that Y/n can sit out if she'd like." Erica huffed, "Just wanna see if the brand new alpha can defend herself." Derek snarled, you giggled, "I promise, I'm efficiently capable." Erica glared at you playfully, then looked at Boyd asking sarcastically, "Is that a challenge?" Boyd laughed, looking to you for a moment, before muttering, "We all do things we have to, it doesn't bother me sweet cheeks." You smiled at him, as everyone else seemed to calm down.

Everyone started dissipating, you grabbed your keys and Derek put his hand on yours.

"Where do you think you're going?"

[aizawaorkuroo]

Seek the Light

Ship: Ukai Keishin x f!reader

Rated: Explicit

Word Count: 8.4K

Summary: Back home after losing your job, you wander into a convenience store not realizing you would see a familiar face.

Warnings: Young Ukai’s a bitch, Language, Biting, Vaginal Fingering, Size Kink (I know this man has a bick dick I know he does), Overstimulation, Creampie, Unprotected Sex, Dom!Ukai

AN: first haikyuu fic haha and first time writing ukai so im still figuring it out! This one got away from me gsfda and the conflict resolved easily cause its my fic and i make the rules tgerfw

________________________

The dipping summer sun casts shadows across the buildings, while painting the clouds a pretty gold. Memories of childhood and youth flood into you, creating a fondness in your heart. Yes, Miyagi was nice. It would be nicer if you didn’t have to move back home after losing your job in Tokyo. You can tell yourself it’s temporary all you want, but it’s embarrassing. Failing is embarrassing.

You sigh, realizing you should probably head back home before it gets too dark. Despite the setting sun, the air has yet to cool off, and you find that your walk has left your throat parched. You glance around, smiling as you spot a convenience store. Nice.

You smile as the air conditioning hits your skin. You make a beeline for a bottled tea, already excited for the refreshing taste. You hum happily as your eyes tilt up to the man behind the register. His eyes are glued to an issue of something, and a cigarette dangles from his lips. Ukai Keishin.

You feel your heart stutter as you watch your best friend from high school read. His hair is long and blonde now, and it just makes sense. He’s handsome, you realize. You always thought he was cute in high school, but he’s a man now.

“No fucking way,” you breathe out, drawing the gaze of the man sitting behind the counter. His eyes widen, recognition clear as day in them.

“Y/N?” His voice is unusually quiet, and his eyes bore into yours, as if you would disappear again if he looked away. Guilt swells uncomfortably in your stomach. You hadn’t talked to him in years. You moved away, and you lost touch with your high school friends, including him. Especially him. He slowly stands to look at you, putting what he was reading down and shoving his cigarette into an ashtray.

Yes, you had been gone for awhile, and yes, the two of you hadn’t talked. But you were both here now, and a second chance has been given to you, wrapped up like a present in the form of a stunned employee at a convenience store.

“Ukai! I forgot this was your mom’s place!” you yell excitedly, rushing behind the counter to trap him in a tight hug. He huffs against you, tensing, before awkwardly wrapping his arms around you.

“What the hell are you doing here?” His words stir something hot and sticky in you, and you push away from him, sheepishly smiling.

“I lost my job and couldn’t find another one in time, and uh, here I am.” Your nose scrunches up at the thought of your tiny, Tokyo apartment that you would never return to.

“No shit, huh? Are you back with your parents?” Your shoulders sag and you nod, pursing your lips.

“Yea, but what have you been up to?” you ask, eager to learn more about your old friend.

“Y’know, working here, hanging out with Shimada and Takinoue. I’ve also been coaching Karasuno’s volleyball team. They’ll sometimes stop by.”

“Oh that’s absolutely perfect,” you laugh. “My volleyball boys never grew up, huh?” He rolls his eyes at you, crossing his arms in feigned annoyance. You hold your hands up in peace, trying to suppress the giggle that’s bubbling in your chest.

“Well, you clearly grew up,” you offer, letting your eyes trail over him. His eyes widen again, and a faint blush covers his cheeks, so soft you almost don’t notice it. “But you’re still reading the same shit.” He lightly punches your arm, and you stick your tongue out at him.

“Anyways, the four of us should get dinner sometime.” You cock your head to the side, trying to gauge his reaction. He snorts and rolls his eyes at you, but there’s a small smile on his face. That's promising, you muse to yourself.

“Yea, that sounds good. And I’m sure Shimada and Takinoue will say yes. I can text you when we’re able to.” He pauses, and his eyes drop to the ground. Your stomach twists into knots as he awkwardly rubs the back of his neck. “Is your number still the same?” It’s an innocent question, and yet you feel like the floor has dropped from beneath you, leaving you unbalanced.

“Uh, yeah,” you murmur, feeling guilty when he nods and presses his lips into a thin line.

“It was good seeing you, Y/N. I’ll text you.” You nod, slowly backing up to the door. You give him a small wave before pushing the door open, stepping back out into the warm air. Your body moves on autopilot while your brain goes into overdrive as you ponder how you can properly mend the bridge between you two.

It’s only when you’re halfway home that you realize you forgot your tea.

________________________

When Ukai texts you, you can’t help but to cringe at the past messages that were left unanswered. Random little texts, asking about your day, how’s Tokyo, updating you on everyone back home. You had meant to answer them, but you just couldn’t. You could pinpoint the moment you stopped answering his messages, and you shudder, remembering how harsh he had sounded over the phone. Not that you had been any kinder. After that night, his texts trickled in slower and slower, until they ended completely.

You inhale sharply, closing your eyes. But you’re back now, and he’s texting you again. You blink your eyes open, rereading his message.

Hey! How does Saturday at 8 work?

Taking a shaky breath you quickly type out a response that you hope isn’t too eager.

That sounds great! Is that one place with the great hiyashi chuka place still open?

The four of you used to eat there in the summertime, feasting on cold ramen and an assortment of toppings. Takinoue used to flirt with the waitress, who remained unimpressed throughout the years. You smile fondly at the memory, excited to see everyone again. Your phone vibrates, pulling you from your thoughts.

Yea and it’s still the only hiyashi chuka place in town

You hum at his message, thinking of how long the four of you used to wait while the summer sun blazed down, and sometimes Kimi would go with you. She had a massive crush on Shimada, one that left her helpless to your and Takinoue’s teasing. Your phone buzzes again, and you look down, slightly surprised at the second message.

I’m excited to see you again.

That was promising indeed.

And yet you can’t help the way butterflies terrorize your stomach as you stand outside the old restaurant. Part of you wants to turn around and walk home; another part of you wants to throw up. You inhale sharply, steeling yourself, and you walk through the door.

It’s just like you remember, and you feel more at ease. You know this place, and these are your friends. There was no reason to worry. But still…

Your eyes flash across the room, before zeroing in on your usual table. You grin widely at Takinoue who is waving you down. Shimada sits next to him, smiling softly as you approach. Immediately, Takinoue gives you a bear hug, making you giggle.

“It’s been way too long,” he whines before letting you go. Shimada rolls his eyes, offering you a small wave. You slip into the empty seat next to Ukai, greeting him quietly. He nods, a small smirk tugging at his lips. The nerves that had been eating away at you dissipate immediately. The conversation flows easy, as if you never left. And when the hiyashi chuka is brought out, your mouth waters just like it used to.

“I’m telling you, it’s not as good anywhere else,” you bemoan. Shimada laughs at that, pushing his glasses up his nose.

“I think that’s nostalgia talking.” You stick your tongue out before shoveling noodles back into your mouth. Ukai snorts, before taking a sip of his beer. Something warm and soft builds up in your heart, spilling out into your entire body.

Happily full of noodles, you settle back against your chair, trying to ignore the way Ukai’s arm rests against the back of your chair. His touch is feather light, but the warmth seeps into you. You missed this, you missed this, you missed him.

When the four of you are standing outside, you shift on your feet, not wanting to have to say goodbye again.

“We should get drinks sometime,” you say to no one in particular. Takinoue slings an arm over your shoulder and his grin is so wide that alone almost makes you laugh.

“Ah yeah! Now you’re talking, Y/N!”

“That is something we can all do together now,” Ukai mumbles, fishing out a cigarette and a lighter from his pocket.

“Then it’s settled,” you chirp happily, “We’ll meet up for drinks next weekend, if that’s okay with you guys.” Ukai’s eyebrows pinch together in thought, and he slowly nods.

“That should work.” You pull away from Takinoue, choosing to wrap an arm around Ukai’s waist, and pulling yourself flush against him.

“Perfect! It’ll be nice to get out of the house before I move into my new apartment.” Ukai rolls his eyes, but drapes his arm across your shoulders anyways. You try not to notice the way his thumb lightly strokes your arm.

________________________

The lights in the bar are dim, and you’re sipping on a lemon sour, nestled into the booth next to Ukai. Beers litter the table, as well as small dishes of food, and some shots you all have yet to drink. Takinoue’s cackle barrels through the air as you offer up another idea.

“No, I’m serious! We could all get dinner! I’m sure my parents would be happy to see you guys again.” Ukai scoffs, crossing his arms and fixing you with a pointed look.

“Please, your parents hate us,” he grumbles. A laugh bubbles through you, and you shake your head.

“They did not!” you promise, but your words sound hollow even to yourself.

Takinoue’s eyebrow quirks up in disbelief. Your lips twist into a grimace, memories of your parents looking tired whenever the boys dropped you off at home. “Okay, maybe they did, but ONLY when my grades would start slipping.” Shimada nods at your words.

“Yea, that sounds right,” he says solemnly. You pout at his calm and unsurprised tone.

“I promise they loved you guys. Just like I know your granddad loved me,” you giggle, poking at Ukai’s side. He rolls his eyes, and he downs his shot.

“Please, like that man likes anyone,” he grumbles. You stick your tongue out at him, and punch his arm lightly.

“Alright, but I got you through high school, so he has to like me” you counter, mouth twisting into a smirk. Ukai glares at you, memories of late night study sessions, and rushed homework help before class flood his mind. His shoulders sag, and he lets out a sigh.

“That’s fair I guess. Gotta piss. I’ll be back.” He pushes out of the booth, leaving you with Takinoue and Shimada. Shimada smiles softly, before fixing his gaze on you.

“Kimi was in Tokyo too, right? Have you seen her at all?” he asks. You grin, taking a sip of your drink.

“Yea, we actually got lunch the day before I moved.” You pause, eyeing him carefully before continuing. “Shimada, did you know she had the biggest crush on you in high school?” He blushes a bright crimson, choking on his drink as Takinoue cackles.

“Yea, dumbass. It was obvious.” Shimada glares at him, nursing his beer.

“Well, I clearly didn’t know. And no one thought to tell me?” You shrugged, shooting him an apologetic smile. Takinoue punches him arm affectionately, before his eyes settle on you, full of humor and mirth.

“Speaking of crushes, I was wondering how Ukai would be since you got back,” Takinoue laughs.

“What?” Despite the drinks you’ve had, you feel sober, something cold slinking down your back.

“He was head over heels for you back in the day,” Takinoue’s laughs die down, but he doesn’t seem to notice the way you freeze. Shimada, on the other hand, does, and he cocks his head to the side, monitoring your response.

You sputter, words locked in your throat. What they hopefully don’t know is that you had a massive crush on him too, and it’s only resurfaced violently since seeing him again. Even after what had happened. And yet that cold feeling heats up into something syrupy in the pit of your stomach.

“Well that’s news to me,” you say softly. “Guess I fucked it all up, huh?” Shimada and Takinoue exchange a glance, and you’re sure one of them is gonna say something, but when Ukai slips back into the booth that door shuts, locking their words on the other side.

“What’d you fuck up?” he asks, taking a swig of the beer he had left on the table.

“Ah you know, the usual. My life in Tokyo. And now I’m back with my parents. I did find a job though.” Shimada’s brows furrow, but he says nothing. Ukai hums, his thigh jostling against yours.

“Aren't you at your new place yet?” Your face twists in annoyance, and your head hits the back of the booth.

“I’m gonna have to stay with my parents for a few more days because a pipe apparently burst in my apartment. But I’m going to lose it. I can’t live with them anymore. Not at my age…” you trail off, lost in your thoughts.

“Stay with me. Until you can move in.” 

Ukai’s voice cuts through the noisy bar, and you open your mouth stupidly, no words coming out. He stares back at you, making the butterflies that had been dormant for awhile snap back to life inside of you. He scratches at the side of his face, making pathetic attempts to backtrack. “I mean you don’t have to, and I won’t be there for a bit cause of training camp-”

“No, that sounds good.” You nod at him, an easy smile spreading across your face. “Yea, that sounds good.” His eyes lock onto yours, something dark and undefinable in them. Neither of you notice the coy look Shimada and Takinoue share.

________________________

The hot water streams around you, and you shut your eyes, relishing the way it feels on your skin. You had a long day at your new job, and the approaching weekend was the only thing keeping you going. Well, that and the fact that you were currently in Ukai’s shower.

He had been kind enough to offer you a place to stay, and already your thoughts are starting to drift to darker places. You had harbored a crush on him when you were younger, but you haven’t seen him in years. And yet the way he looked at you made your stomach drop.

You turn the water off, the cold air plucking at your skin and making you shiver. You wrap a towel around yourself, and dry off quickly, trying to forget about the ache in between your legs. It doesn’t work, but you pull on a pair of shorts and an oversized t-shirt anyways. You could at least pretend it worked.

Ukai’s apartment was exactly what you expected. The walls were littered with posters, books lay all over the ground, and there was a volleyball by the TV. He had rubbed the back of his neck, almost embarrassed when you first got there.

“It’s, uh, not much. Probably should’ve thought about that before I offered, but make yourself at home,” he mutters.

You had reassured him it was more than enough. You were just grateful to be out of your parents' house. You pad over to his spot near the tv, kneeling next to him. He eyes you from his peripheral, not looking directly at you. Nonetheless, it makes you shiver.

“Where should I sleep?” you ask, playing with the hem of his shirt. He nods his head back to the bed, and you flush.

“I can’t take your bed,” you sputter, stomach flipping. He rolls his eyes, a sharp smirk pulling at his lips.

“I gotta leave in the middle of the fucking night for training camp, remember? Take the bed.” His tone leaves no room for any argument, and you nod shyly, before shuffling over to his bed. He refocuses on the game he was watching as you pull the covers around you.

But you can’t sleep. Not when Ukai is so close to you. You flip onto your stomach and huff. He glances at you from over his shoulder and rolls his eyes. He shifts to the side, allowing you to watch the game from your vantage point.

You recognize the Karasuno uniforms, and something syrupy and nostalgic floods your veins. This must be the new team. The two of you stay quiet, the two of you lost in your own thoughts.

It’s only when the noise from the TV stops that you’re jolted back to reality. Ukai’s hand grips the remote tightly, face screwed up unpleasantly.

“Why did you stop talking to me?”

The words ring around his apartment, crystalizing into the air, becoming frigid and uncomfortable. You squeeze your eyes shut, letting your head rest against his pillow. When you open them again, he’s turned towards you, brows pinched and mouth twisted into a grimace.

“I didn’t-” you cut yourself off, pushing yourself up to your knees. “I didn’t mean to.” You hold a hand up to him, stopping his oncoming argument. “I wanted to, and I wanted to pretend like everything was okay, but how could I?” His frown deepens, but he stays silent, memories seeping uncomfortably into the air.

“Keishin,” you hissed into the phone. “Let it go.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? How could you be so stupid?” Your stomach drops at his words, but more than anything, you’re upset.

“I am not the stupid one. I’m the one who made it out of Miyagi. I’m the one who’s going to college.” You hear him inhale sharply, and you can practically imagine the way his eyes are narrowed right now.

“Right, right, right. And you’re also the one who’s sleeping with some asshole, who is way too old for you, and he’s just gonna forget you once he’s bored! If that’s not what a stupid little girl does, you tell me what it is! I’m trying to watch out for you!” he practically yells. You feel the oncoming tears sting the back of your eyes, but there’s something red-hot pushing you forward.

“Fuck you, Ukai. I actually found someone who likes me for once, you have to ruin it. I’m not a kid. You don’t know shit about my life here, and you hate it. If you cared so much, you could’ve asked me to stay. Fuck you.” He swears angrily at you, before the line drops. You stare at your phone, waves of nausea passing over you.

A week later he sends you a text, complaining about his grandfather, and telling you about something stupid Takinoue did. You couldn’t bring yourself to respond. His texts eventually slowed down, until he didn’t text you at all.

You shudder slightly at the memory, letting your eyes drop to the floor.

“You acted like nothing had happened, but I was still mad, and by the time I had calmed down, I thought you would hate me for not talking to you.” You wrap your arms around yourself, chewing on your lip. “And you were right by the way, about that guy,” you spit out. “The second someone prettier came along, he dropped me.”

When you flick your eyes up, Ukai’s jaw is tense, his brows furrowed. You dig your nails into your arm, inhaling sharply.

“Fuck, I wish I had been wrong,” he seethes. Your eyes widen, not expecting him to say that. In all honesty, you weren’t sure what you had expected him to say. “You deserve the world, Y/N. More than that piece of shit. More than Miyagi.” His words are colored with bitterness that makes your stomach curdle.

“That’s why I could never ask you to stay. You were supposed to get out of here.” Ukai’s gaze bores into you, the intensity of it giving you whiplash. Your heart melts at his words, and you can’t help but to feel regret for not trying to work things out back in the day.

“And I ended up back here anyways,” you mutter.

“Well, Miyagi has some perks,” he laughs, an easy smirk tugging at his mouth. You cock your head to the side, snorting in disbelief.

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

“It’s got you now,” Ukai says lazily, while stretching his arms above his head.

Your heart swells in your chest, and you lunge towards him, wrapping your arms around him. He’s tense beneath you, but relaxes under your soft touches.

“I missed you, Kei,” you say gently. His arms drop to hold you to him, eyes closing as he basks in your attention.

“I’m sorry for what happened, and I’m sorry I tried to pretend like nothing happened. I’m pissed that you weren’t in my life, but that was my fault. And now that you’re here...don’t think you’re escaping that easy again.” You nod, and something hot stings the back of your eyes.

“I’m not,” you say gently. “I’m not gonna disappear again. I promise. You’re my best friend, Keishin. I missed you.”

“Okay. Now get some sleep.” His arms loosen around you, and you slump away from him. As you shift back into the bed, Ukai faces the TV, playing it and lowering the volume until it’s just white noise to your sleepy mind. With that, you lie down again, letting your eyes shut and the warmth of sleep overtake you.

Ukai is drawn back into the game, but your words linger in the air. You’re my best friend, Keishin. I missed you. He glances back at you, bitterness eating away at his stomach. He wants to be more than just your best friend. 

He fixes his gaze on the TV, trying to shove those thoughts somewhere deep and dark. Eventually, when he looks at the time, he scowls realizing he’s gotta head out now. Letting out a sigh, he turns to face you again.

His heart tugs at how you’re curled up in his bed so sweetly. Guilt settles in his stomach at the thought of waking you at this hour, but he had to make sure you would be okay. His hand hovers above your shoulder, and he watches the steady rise and fall of your chest. You belong here. With him. He shakes his head, banishing the thought. Ukai gently shakes you, watching as you rub your eyes and blink sluggishly at him.

“Sorry to wake you, but I’m heading out for the camp now. The keys are on the counter. Stay as long as you need to, just make sure to lock up.” You hum at his words, nestling back into his pillow and shutting your eyes.

“Okay, Keishin. Love you. Have fun,” you murmur, before drifting back to sleep. He inhales sharply, eyes boring into your sleeping face. He scoffs to himself, shaking his head. You probably wouldn’t even remember you said that when you woke up. And yet…

Ukai shifts on his knees closer to your sleeping form. He ducks down, letting his lips hover over your forehead. He gently kisses your temple, while simultaneously trying to squash the warm feelings that flow through him. He pulls away quickly, the small peck only lasting a second or two, but his lips burn now, and all he wants to do is curl around you and hold you in his arms.

The thought rushes through him like cold water, and he straightens away from you, trying to ignore the way his heart thuds. Ukai’s lips twist into a frown, and he rises, grabbing his bag and quietly walking out the door.

________________________

The next few days are quiet as you go to work. It feels weird to stay at Ukai’s by yourself, but you have to admit that a weight has been lifted since the first night. It was like you could finally move forward in your friendship, the guilt evaporating and letting you fall back into a normal crush.

The evening you’re able to move into your apartment, it’s windier than you thought it would be. You didn’t mean to steal one of his hoodies, but you know he has a few pairs of the orange one. You had seen them in his closet. You slip the orange hoodie on, clutching the fabric to you. It’s warm, enough to protect you from the unusually powerful wind. You shut your eyes and take a deep breath; it smells like him. The thought makes you shudder.

You keep the hoodie on, promising to leave it in Ukai's apartment when you make your last trip in between. But when the moment comes, you can’t bring yourself to take the garment off. When you slip into bed in an unfamiliar place that night, his hoodie brings you comfort. As your eyes shut, you promised that you would return it the next day, when he texted you for his key.

Except you didn’t. You held onto his hoodie for two weeks. By the time you return it, it has already stopped smelling like him. And now, Ukai’s blinking at you from the doorframe of his apartment, confusion pulling at his eyebrows.

His hair is wet, hanging limply against his head, his normal headband nowhere to be seen. A towel hangs around his neck, and there’s an unlit cigarette in between his lips. You blink up at him blankly, trying to resist the urge to run your fingers through his hair.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” He cocks his head to the side, eyes trailing over your face curiously.

“I, um, came to drop this off.” You hold his hoodie to your chest, clutching it tightly in your hands. “But I probably should’ve told you I was coming.” His gaze is glued to the garment your holding, and the silence hangs in between you. Ukai flicks his eyes back to yours, something deep and dark brewing in them. You shift nervously under his gaze, opening your mouth as you hesitantly explain yourself.

“I borrowed it. When I was staying here. Just took me a while to drop it back off,” you mumble, feeling embarrassed.

“Keep it.” His voice is warm and steady in the air, making your spine tingle. Your hands drop from your chest, hoodie still clenched tightly.

“Oh. Okay.” Your mouth feels heavy, the words sticking to your tongue like molasses. “I guess I’ll head home. Thanks.” You start to turn away, when his hand shoots out, latching onto your wrist.

“You just got here.” His touch stings you, burning into your skin in a way that makes you crave more. You slowly, and weakly, you nod at him, letting him guide you inside his apartment.

“So you borrowed my hoodie, huh?” He smirks at you, eyes gleaming at the way you nervously sit at the edge of his futon.

“Yea, I was running out the door and it was colder than I thought, so I just grabbed it.” Your hands grip the fabric tightly, before you put the hoodie on the bed next to you. Ukai cocks his head to the side, his sharp smirk never leaving his face. “But it took me a while to return because, well…” He flops down onto the ground in front of you, resting his chin in his hand.

“Because it smelled like you,” you mumble, feeling butterflies slip into your veins. Ukai’s eyes widen for a split second, and he plucks the unlit cigarette from his mouth, throwing it to the side.

“Huh, no shit.” His words are colored in disbelief, but his gaze is unwavering, sending a small shiver down your spine. He shifts forward, pushing into your personal space until his face is right in front of yours.

“If I’m reading this wrong, you gotta let me know.” The frail dam that had been holding your emotions in place splinters, leaving your mind reeling. But one thing was sure: it was impossible to deny how you felt.

“You’re not,” you manage to sputter out. “You’re not reading it wrong.” He hums in satisfaction, eyes trailing over your face.

Ukai surges forward, and his lips are warm and rough against yours, and he steals your breath away immediately. A hand gently holds your face to his, the other wrapped around your waist, pulling you against him. Tentatively, you twist your fingers into his hair, and he groans against you. He pulls away from your lips, leaving you chasing after him. He pants against you, eyes dark and unreadable.

“Been wanting to do this for years,” he mutters, looking at you intensely.

“What took you so long?” He rolls his eyes, leaving sharp kisses down your neck.

“Too scared that I would push you away, and I did that anyways.” You pout at his words, tugging him up by his hair.

“I’m not going away again, and there’s nothing you could do to make me” you murmur, leaning forward to kiss him. His tongue prods at your lips, and you open your mouth obediently, letting him explore. Ukai’s hands are warm on your waist, squeezing the flesh that’s there. He pulls you onto his lap, shifting his legs under you so you’re flush against him.

“You good?” you ask in between kisses, scratching his scalp. His hips rock against you, and he pulls back to smirk at you.

“I’m more than good, baby.” Grinning, you meet his mouth again, letting your hips grind against him. His warm hands wander up and down your body, setting your skin on fire. They rest on your waist under your shirt, and his fingers tap at the flesh there. You hum happily, before leaning away and pulling off your shirt and tossing it behind you. Ukai freezes, eyes hungrily taking in the newly exposed skin. You flush as his hands start to trail upwards, ghosting over your skin.

You dip forward to kiss him again, and his hands reach around to fumble with your bra. You smile against his lips as he struggles, but the second it’s off, his hands are kneading your breasts.

“What are you smiling about?” he mutters against your lips, before pinching one of your nipples. You pull back and inhale sharply, biting your lip before tugging at his shirt.

“Not fair that yours is still on, Keishin,” you whine. He rolls his eyes, and pushes you off of his lap, letting you fall against the futon. Ukai strips quickly, a sharp grin on his face making you flush. He crawls forward, caging you in between his arms. His hips settle in between your thighs, and you can feel his erection through his boxers.

When he looks at you, his hair flops down. You lift your hand, running your fingers through it. He leans into your touch, grinning before bending down to kiss you. His lips are warm against you, and he doesn’t waste any time, attacking your jawline and neck with sharp, biting kisses. You card your hands through his hair, eyes fluttering shut. His kisses switch into something more intense, and you gasp, eyes fluttering open as small bites litter your neck.

“Ukai,” you moan, fingers tightening in his hair. He leaves little marks until he reaches your chest. His tongue swirls around a nipple, fingers pinching the other. The small sparks of pleasure go straight to your pussy, and your hips shift underneath Ukai, making him groan.

His mouth is hot and relentless on you, and your nipples ache from the attention. His teeth lightly bite down on your breast, not hard enough to leave a mark, but enough to make your eyes fly open.

“Keishin!” you squeal. He chuckles before letting his tongue run over were he just bit.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, not really meaning it, and he continues his path down. When he reaches the waist of your shorts, his eyes find yours, waiting. Biting the inside of your cheek, you shift your hips up, and Ukai grips the fabric, tugging down both your shorts and your underwear. His eyes focus on your exposed pussy, making note of how it’s already wet.

“Quit staring,” you complain, embarrassment flooding your system. He smirks down at you, using his finger to trail up and down your already soaking slit.

“So pretty and wet…” he mumbles. Your hips squirm underneath him, and his finger travels to circle your sensitive clit. You whine at the jolts of pleasure, making him smirk. His finger dips down, and he pushes it in gently. He thumbs at your clit, eyes flicking in between your face and your greedy pussy. Your tug at his hair, rotating your hips in time with his gentle thrusts.

“Keishin, more please,” you whine, making him chuckle. He slips another finger in, stretching you out. Your hands leave his hair to pinch at your nipples. Ukai’s head dips down to lightly bite the inside of your thigh, making you jolt. When he pushes in a third finger, you moan loudly, throwing your head back against the pillow. Something white-hot and foreboding pokes at the edges of your mind, threatening to spill over.

“I’m gonna cum, Kei,” you warn, eyes fluttering shut. His fingers curl inside of you, thumb still relentless on your clit.

“Open your eyes, Y/N.” His voice leaves no room for any argument, and you force them to open, watching as his fingers continue to pump into you. “Cum for me, baby.” He leans down again, eyes fixed on yours, and he bites the inside of your other thigh, and the pain combines with the pleasure, catapulting you over the edge.

You writhe and thrash against him, hips bucking up against his fingers. Ukai’s laugh fills the room, and he continues to move his fingers, letting you ride out your orgasm. When he finally pulls his hand away, you whimper from the loss. He presses a kiss to your hip before flipping you over.

You hear him shuffle, and you glance over your shoulder and see him kneeling behind you, boxers finally off. Excitement and arousal pool inside of you, and you squirm as his hands massage your ass.

“You’re big,” you murmur, making him laugh. He’s thick and long enough that you know it’ll feel good. But even then, you can’t help but wonder if he’ll actually fit. You flush facing forward again, but he leans down to press kisses to your spine.

“You good to keep going?” he asks in between each peck. You nod, letting your fingers dig into the sheets by your head.

“I’ve been thinking about this for years,” he groans, making you flush. His fingers dig into your ass, massaging the flesh. You squirm underneath him, feeling yourself get wetter under his touch. Ukai runs the head of his cock up and down your slit, and you inhale sharply, overcome with the desire to see his face.

“Wait!” you cry out, throwing an arm back to grab his arm. Immediately, he pulls away from you and freezes.

“What’s wrong are you okay? Do you wanna stop?” Panic colors his voice, and you shake your head before rolling over onto you back.

“I, uh, I just wanted to see you,” you mumble, feeling shy. Ukai barks out a laugh and smirks down at you, one of his hands moving to stroke your thigh affectionately.

“Fair enough. There’s always next time.” His predatory grin makes your cunt clench, and you reach up, gesturing for him to lean down. He cocks his head to the side, hair tilting with it.

“What is it you want?” You flush, letting your gaze go past his shoulder.

“A kiss.” His eyes light up, and he leans down, letting his lips ghost against yours. You push up, meeting his lips, and he chuckles. Ukai ruts his hips against you, letting his cock slide in between your soaking folds.

“Keishin, quit teasing me,” you whine. He rolls his eyes before pushing away, resting on his knees.

“Wanna watch your little pussy try to take me,” he explains, letting the head of his cock gently push into you. Your face contorts at the breach, and you wring your hands in the sheets. He whispers sweet words, eyes glued to your flutter pussy. He slowly rocks his hips forward, watching as he sinks in another inch.

You let out a choked moan, his slow movements emphasizing his size. His eyes snap up to your face, letting his hands squeeze your waist.

“Your sweet little cunt feels so good already,” he groans. Your hands tug at the sheets as you try not to squirm. But it feels nearly impossible with how red-hot his cock feels inside of you.

You preen under Ukai’s attention, his hands massaging your flesh as your pussy tries to relax around his thick length.

“So hot and tight.” His words shake as his eyes trail down your body to watch your pussy split around him as he inches in.

“You’re too big,” you keen, tears prickling in the corners of your eyes at the intense stretch, and nonetheless, the thought adds fuel to the fire in your belly, and your pussy clenches down harder on his cock. His thumb strokes delicate circles into your hip, and he smirks down at you.

“Yea, and the thought has you squeezing around my cock, huh? That’s pretty messed up.” You flush at his words, embarrassment coursing through your veins. You turn your head to the side, wanting to escape his intense gaze. Keishin leans forward, rocking his hips and pushing his cock slowly into you until he bottoms out. You let out a pathetic whine, covering your face with your hands

“Don’t get shy now, baby,” he coos, batting at your hands, which flop above your head. “I think it’s cute how tight you are around me. I’m just too big? Is that it, baby?” You moan, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him towards you. He chuckles as you bury face into the crook of his neck. Tentatively, Ukai slowly pulls out, every ridge and vein dragging deliciously against your walls. When he pushes back in, you groan against his skin, and your hands travel up and down the smooth expanse of his back, your nails leaving red lines.

His hand snakes in-between the two of you, and a calloused finger expertly traces patterns onto your clit. You moan loudly, and your body writhes against him. Ukai pulls away from you, and a cruel grin sprawls out onto his face.

“Are you gonna cum? Already?” You nod, pathetically bucking your hips against him still. “We’ve barely started,” he taunts.

“I can’t help it,” you choke out, nerves feeling overwhelmed by sensations. He hums at your words, licking his lips as he eyes your body.

“Okay. It’s okay. Do you wanna be good for me?” he gently asks. You squirm beneath him, hands gripping his biceps, and you nod your head.

“I wanna be good for you, Keishin,” you cry out, the walls of your cunt fluttering around his thick cock. “I’ll be good for you.” His smirk slips into a softer smiler, and he leans forward, grinding his cock into you, and leaving sharp kisses against your neck.

“Then cum for me,” he murmurs against your neck, before shifting to lightly bite your shoulder. Your eyes squeeze shut, and you cant your hips against him, pussy fluttering around him. You grip his biceps tightly, orgasm overwhelming you.

“That’s it. Creaming so pretty on my dick,” Ukai whispers, watching your face contort in pleasure. He ruts into you, fingers still expertly teasing your clit, in an attempt to draw out your orgasm. Your eyes crack open, small tears leaking from your eyes.

“It’s too much, Kei,” you squeal, nails digging into his biceps as you try to squirm away from him. He tuts lightly at you, his hot tongue swiping along the delicate bite mark that’s on your shoulder.

“I thought you wanted to be good for me,” he rumbles. You nod, letting your eyes shut again. The fingers that were tortuously circling your clit slip away to pinch you’re inner thigh. “Look at me, baby.” You pry your eyes open and pant against him. His clever fingers continue their ministrations, and his hips grind deeper into you, making your brain feel foggy and warm.

“I wanna be good,” you mumble, hands leaving his biceps to tangle themselves into his hair. Ukai makes an approving sound, and he kisses your cheek.

“Cum. Again.” A pathetic cry tears itself from your throat, and you focus on the intense pleasure you’re feeling. Ukai leans down, littering your chest with little sharp bites that make you keen. Your brows pinch at the intense pleasure, hips grinding against him. You’re already close again, and you tug at his hair, urging him to kiss you again. His lips eagerly find yours, and you feel him smile against you. You’re so close to falling over that edge again. Your cunt is absolutely drenched, and the erotic squelching makes you flush.

Ukai’s tongue prods at your lips, and you obediently open your mouth, letting him in. It’s sloppy and desperate, and it’s perfect. His fingers dig into your clit, pinching it, and you are flung into the stratosphere, stars popping into your vision. You gush around his cock, and he groans against your lips.

Your thighs twitch, and your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him close to you, urging him to still. He complies, peppering your face with kisses as you come back to earth.

“So pretty,” he whispers against you. You card your fingers through his hair as you try to catch your breath.

“Oh my god, Keishin.” Your voice wavers, and you're embarrassed by how hoarse you sound.

“Want me to stop?” You shake your head desperately at his question, and your legs tighten around him.

“No. I just need a second.” He chuckles watching as your screws up. “I didn’t think I was that sensitive,” you sigh. You unlace your fingers from his hair, wiping at the sweat that’s on your neck.

Ukai smirks at you as he shifts to kneel.  His warm hands gripping your waist, keeping you flushed against him. You whine at the movement, pussy tightening around him. His eyes trail over where he enters you, admiring how you’re spread out for him.

“Or, maybe my dick’s too big for you,” he taunts, no real malice behind his words. You squeak at his words, feeling embarrassed and warm.  “Yea, that’s it,” he continues, fondly looking at your messy cunt. “You’re so sensitive cause it barely fits in your cunt,” he coos.

“Oh my god,” you murmur, lazily wrapping your legs around him. He lets out a laugh, one that resounds through the apartment, and you smile at him, something syrupy running through your head. “And I think-“

You cut yourself off, nerves overtaking you. His head cocks to the side, and his thumb strokes your waist in a reassuring manner.

“I’m balls deep in you. Don’t get shy on me now,” he says gently, his soft tone colliding with his crude words.

“You’re so vulgar, Keishin.” You roll your eyes at him, a soft smile creeping onto your face. “It could be that,” you say, not wanting to repeat his words, “but I also think I may be sensitive cause it’s you.”

Your voice is soft, and you watch as Ukai practically melts. His arms wrap around you, pulling you against his chest. You moan as your weight settles on him, increasing the pressure from his cock.

“Are you being serious right now?” His voice rumbles through you, and you bite your lip and nod. You press a palm to his cheek, relishing in the way he leans into it.

“There’s no one for me but you, Keishin.” Ukai kicks his legs out behind you, letting you get more comfortable on his lap. His arms wrap around you, holding you close to him, and he buries his face into your neck. His hips buck up into you, making you squeal.

“Gonna fuck you so good. You’re never gonna be able to think about anyone but me inside this pussy.” He punctuates his words with a thrust, and your nails dig into his back. You rock your hips against him, as he sprinkles kisses against your neck.

“Ever since,” you pant, “ ever since I got back, all I’ve thought about is you. I missed you so much.” He moans into your neck, and his sweet kisses turn into little bites, nipping at the sensitive skin there.

“Did you touch yourself? Thinking about my fat cock pushing into you?” he mutters in between nips. Your brows pinch together and you nod as your exhausted pussy flutters again.

“Yes! But all I wanted was you!” Ukais teeth clamp down on your neck, not hard enough to break skin, but it stings. You squeal as he roughly changes positions again, forcing you on your back again, legs wrapped tightly around him.

His pace is relentless, pounding into you. Your fingers claw down his back, and his hands squeeze your hips.

“It’s too much, Kei,” you cry out, eyes squeezing shut. Ukai presses a searing kiss to your lips, thumb digging into your side.

“Please, baby. Give me one more. Cum for me one more time,” he mumbles into your lips. You nod against him, blinking through the tears. “Good. Just let me fuck you like this.”

His cock drives deep in you, making you keen. Your hands travel up to his hair, tangling into it, and tugging at the strands. He feels everywhere, his presence is overwhelming, hot and heavy. His hips rut into you, lips peppering your face with small kisses. Your cunts already oversensitive can feel your orgasm approaching.

“I’m close, Kei,” you choke out, pussy gushing around his cock. You flush at the lewd noises, but he just moans nuzzling his face into your neck.

“Give it to me. Wanna feel your little pussy squeeze around me.” You hold him to your neck, hips bucking into him. Ukai’s hand snakes down in between the two of you, and his fingers rub intense circles on your clit. Your eyes squeeze shut, as the building pleasure finally reaches its peak.

“Just like that, baby. Cum around my cock.” You writhe beneath him, your hands traveling to claw down his back. Your hot cunt grips him tight, legs tightening around his waist. “Just like that,” he groans, before his teeth sink into the base of your shoulder. You moan his name loudly, loud enough that you would be embarrassed later, but for not you don’t care. All you can focus on is the white-hot pleasure that’s coursing through your system.

Ukai’s thrusts don’t stop, plowing into you and prolonging your orgasm. He pulls his hand away from your clit, and he slips his arms in between your back and the bed, holding you tightly. You whine as you feel his hips begin to lose their pace, thrusts no longer steady. Your legs squeeze around him, keeping him close to you.

“Cum inside, please I need it,” you beg. He pulls away from your neck, eyebrows creasing in concern. “I’m on the pill. It’s safe, I promise. Please Kei, I need you to fill me, please, please, please.”

“Alright, baby. I’ll give you what you want.” His head drops back to the crook of your neck, as he stutters against you, hot spurts of cum flooding your pussy. He falls against you, before rolling onto his side, keeping you tight against him. His cock is still lodged within you, and you whine at the movement. Sweet kisses litter your face and neck, and you blink blearily at him. He slowly pulls out of you, grunting at the way your pussy flutters. You grimace as his cum drips out of your abused cunt.

“Gotta get you cleaned up,” he mumbles, before standing up and disappearing to the bathroom. You flop onto your back, trying to catch your breath. When Ukai returns, he kneels in between your shaky legs, and ever so carefully, he takes care of you. There’s something unusually soft in his actions, soft enough to make your heart squeeze. He also gets you a glass of water, which you gulp down. He lights a cigarette, as he watches your eyes start to clear up.

“Keishin, you’re kind of nasty,” you mumble, stretching your arms out above your head. His laugh rumbles through the air, as he takes a drag. He eyes you greedily, as if he’s going to eat you alive.

“This was nothing. There’s so much I wanna do to you.” His voice is low, heavy with exhaustion. “But for now I just want to hold you.”

“Well that can be arranged,” you tease, lying back on the bed. Ukai chuckles, putting out his cigarette and crawling forward to wrap his arms around you. You sigh in contentment, letting your eyes shut.

“I missed you,” he mutters, and you smile against him.

“I missed you too, Keishin.” Sleep tugs at your brain, luring it to a deep rest.

“Did you mean it? What you said?” His voice is unusually quiet, delicately piercing the air. His thumb gently strokes your arm. Your eyes flutter open, and your brows pinch as you try to recall what you had said.

“About what?” you ask, trying to stifle a yawn.

“What you said? About you and me?”

Oh.

Oh.

You smile at him, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to his lips. When you pull away, you lean your forehead against his and you smile.

“The only person for me is you, Keishin. It’s always been you.” He hums happily before he pulls you against him.

“Good. Cause I was serious. I’m not letting you go again.” You shut your eyes and nuzzle into him, taking comfort in the way his arms wrap around you. And it’s in those arms that you embrace the most peaceful sleep you’ve had in years.✨

[sunnysviolin]

Omotober Day Three- Picnics

If you want to read it on ao3 (now as one singular fic because I am a dum dum) you can do that here

When Hero suggested that the five of them get together and have a picnic, Basil was nervous, but excited. There was a part of him that would always be afraid, but more than anything he wanted things to go back to the way they used to be. A picnic could be the start of that.

But Basil should have known that things could never go back to the way they used to be.

“Forgiveness, reader, is, I think, something very much like hope and love - a powerful, wonderful thing.

And a ridiculous thing, too.”- Kate DiCamillo

Basil wasn’t really sure what to expect when their group decided to get together for a picnic again like they used to, but his first inclination wouldn’t have been that there would be a fist fight about to break out.

After the fight, and the hospital, and everything that came after, things had gotten surprisingly calm and quiet. The guilt that had eaten his insides for all those years was gone, and in its place was peace. Yes, he still felt awful about what they had done, but the secret was over, and he no longer had to hold all of that pain by himself.

Their friends had accepted the truth at varied rates, and Basil was sure it would take a long time before they ever even came close to forgiving him or Sunny. Aubrey was still quick to anger, Hero was still avoidant of the pain, but things had changed. Something about those last few days Sunny had spent with them in Faraway had changed them all, made everyone more open to trying with each other again. Even after they learned everything.

It felt good to be friends again, to be able to look at their faces without the self loathing threatening to crush him. He would take whatever halted measures of friendship they would give, if it only meant not being alone again. So when Hero suggested a picnic, Basil eagerly agreed without thinking twice.

He should have thought twice.

The planning had gone perfectly fine. Kel was a hundred percent on board, and he had even offered to help with making the food. The other boy seemed most pleased that it was Hero specifically who was extending the branch out. Basil knew that, of all of them, Hero was probably going to have the most mixed emotions about what he and Sunny had done. Still, Hero was Hero. Even if he hated them both, he would never reveal it.

Aubrey had seemed unsure, but Kel’s enthusiasm and the promise of getting Sunny back to join them had her agreeing. Basil knew she and Sunny talked on the phone pretty often, maybe even more than Sunny and himself. Aubrey was trying hard to make up for the last four years, and she spent most of her time with Basil or by herself. She said it was to ‘figure things out’ and he didn’t pry. He knew how hard it was to accept things in your past that you didn’t want to think about or the parts of yourself that you didn’t like all that much.

Then there was Sunny. They had all crowded together around Kel’s home phone to talk to Sunny about their idea. He had agreed to come and made plans to sleep at Kel and Hero’s house the night of their picnic. Logically it would have made more sense for him to stay with Basil, there was more room at Basil’s house, but it went unspoken between them why Kel and Hero had extended the offer instead. He would catch the train in and out and be back by dinner the next day, it wasn’t a far journey. None of them had seen Sunny since the hospital, at least not in person, and Basil wondered what it might be like to lay eyes on the other boy now.

The day came and they had split into natural groups. Most of the preparations were already done, but there were a few things to finish up on the morning of. Hero would take care of finishing the food, Aubrey would set up in their spot in the park, and Basil and Kel were going to go pick up Sunny from the train station.

Everything was good. The day was bright and warm with not a single cloud in the sky, Sunny’s train had arrived right on time, and Sunny had even greeted them both with quick but tight hugs and a small smile. He was still wearing an eyepatch (and apparently would always be from now on) but he looked a lot better. The bags under his eyes were gone, and the greying pallor of his skin had vanished. He held himself a little straighter, spoke a little more, and the air of fear that seemed to surround Sunny had dissipated into nothing.

Kel had grabbed both of their hands and swung them through the air as they walked towards the park, chattering about what he and Hero had planned for that day. Basil was content to let Kel do most of the talking and shared a secret amused look behind his back with Sunny. This was something that had happened all the time when they were kids, and the nostalgia of it was easy to fall into.

When they got to the park and saw Aubrey, things were awkward for all of two seconds before she punched Sunny gently on the arm and ruffled his hair, bringing them over to the set up she had created. The picnic blanket was a checkered blue, not red, but it was soft. There was the scent of flowers in the air from the bushes nearby in bloom, and a breeze twirled the pinwheels clustered in the distance. It felt so blissfully...normal. Like they could just fall right back into step where they left off all those years ago.

Basil should have hit himself over the head for thinking that.

It started so innocently. They were waiting for Hero to arrive and sighing about how nice their little corner of the world was, when Aubrey made an offhand comment about her friends potentially joining them next time. Before Basil could even really process what her words, Kel had said no. He hadn’t said it in a joking way or to tease her. Kel had snapped, and the tension in his shoulder and the hardness of his eyes told them all that he was deadly serious.

It was jarring. Of all of them, Kel had always been the friendliest. Hero may have been the most popular, but Kel wasn’t far behind his brother in natural charm. He was sweet and sincere, and almost always willing to get to know people. It wasn’t like him to shut down so quickly or with such force. Kel’s face was stormy and he was avoiding eye contact with all of them, keeping those hard eyes locked with the ground. Aubrey seemed livid, but she sat stony and silent, waiting for more of an explanation. The one that came only made things worse.

“I just don’t see why you would even wanna be around them anymore,”

Aubrey, loyal beyond words, had swooped in to defend the rest of her gang, claiming that they were good people who were great friends. This had only made Kel scoff, which infuriated her even more. Basil was used to Aubrey and Kel getting into arguments, he was even okay with the escalated fight that had happened at the dock (seeing as he blamed himself for causing it), but this was unlike any of those.

Normally it was Kel who kept fairly cool during these things, and Aubrey that went ballistic. Yes, Kel fought right back with her and gave as good as he got, but he had always seemed calm and collected, mostly joking around and poking fun at how red Aubrey’s face would get.

Now it was his cheeks that were tinged, and his throat that was raw from screaming, in a way that Basil had never seen before. He stayed silent and tried to keep himself small, hands clasping together over his chest as he tried to remember the deep breathing techniques Polly had been teaching him. They didn’t seem to be working. A quick glance to the side showed Sunny in a similar state of distress, watching their friends argue with a wide eye and clear panic etched into his features.

Aubrey and Kel’s argument devolved fast, going from something that held worth to just being insults hurled back and forth. They began to advance on each other, clearly done with words and moving past to blows, but a voice cut through, breaking the intensity that had caught them all firmly in its grip.

“What’s going on?”

The four of them turned around simultaneously, varying stages of guilt evident on everyone’s faces. Hero emerged from the brush, carrying a large wooden picnic basket on one arm, his mouth turned downwards.

He surveyed the moment and sighed, a tired sound that betrayed a weight that they all knew Hero carried but refused to let them bear with him. The eldest walked over and gently placed the basket down on the blanket, glancing at each of them in turn.

“You okay, Sunny?” Hero asked, and Sunny nodded. He seemed calmer now that someone was intervening, but fear was still there. Hero patted him once on the top of his head and peered around the youngest. “Basil?”

Basil nodded too, his own words caught in his throat. It wasn’t the same as when Something had been squeezing him too tight to breathe, it wasn’t that bad yet, but it was still pretty bad. Nothing he couldn’t handle though, and Basil knew that Hero needed to be focusing on the other two right now. With both of them checked on, Hero stood at his full height and stared at the others.

“Explain,”

Both teens burst into words, voices raising as they tried to shout over each other and interject to disprove what the other had just claimed. Hero listened to the cacophony for a moment and then raised his hands, yelling over them to quiet down. Once it was settled again, Hero turned to Aubrey.

“Aubrey, you go first. You can talk with no interruptions. Then Kel is going to talk with no interruptions, and we’re all going to listen to each other. I want each of you to explain to me why you’re fighting, okay?” Both teens nodded, and Hero sat down, gesturing for the other two to sit back down as well. They did, and then Aubrey began to talk.

“Out of nowhere Kel starts going off about my friends and talking bad about them for no reason,” Kel made a noise here and Hero looked at him. The younger brother rolled his eyes but stayed silent, and Hero waved a hand at Aubrey to continue, “I don’t get why he’s so angry, but I don’t care. He had no right to say all of those things. That’s why they don’t like you, you just assume the worst of them.”

Kel shot a harsh glare towards the girl, something fiery and fueled with a deep rage that was completely out of character for him. Then when he spoke, the oddities only continued.

“I didn’t start ‘out of nowhere’. You started this by saying you wanted us all to hang out with them. Like we’re all pals. Did you forget that the only thing you did when you spent time with them was bully people and act like none of us mattered to you? You keep talking about how you wanna change, but you don’t. You just want to act like nothing you did mattered. They bullied m- Basil for years! If you’re really our- his friend I don’t know why you don’t want to protect Basil from those guys,” Kel finished his speech with a huff, crossing his arms and curling in on himself.

“I apologized to Basil plenty already!” Aubrey replied, a glance to Hero when she began. When he didn’t interrupt her, she kept going, “He forgave me, and now we’re trying to get past it. Isn’t that what you want?”

“Maybe we should listen to what Basil thinks?” Hero suggested, trying to keep the conversation from riding off the rails as it had before, “If you’re both so worried about him, it seems like his opinion would be the most important thing here,”

Then all eyes were on him, waiting to hear what he had to say. Basil twisted his fingers in his lap and laughed nervously, his mouth filling with cotton as both sides of the argument clearly looked for his backing.

“I-I don’t know?” He finally replied, the words sounding small and useless, only making everyone madder, “I wouldn’t mind trying I guess. Seeing if if it works out, ya know?”

Hero perked up here, shooting Basil a grateful smile. Aubrey seemed vindicated and her anger began to melt. The tension eased out of the air, and Basil breathed out. It was all going to be okay now. It was just a regular Kel and Aubrey fight. They would hug the way Hero always forced them to at the end of their arguments, and then the five of them could enjoy the afternoon together.

“Kel, if Basil is okay with it then it’s fine. Why don’t you two hug and make up and then-”

“What if I’m not okay with it, Hero?!” Kel exploded, cutting his brother off, “What about that?!”

Stunned silence coupled with an even stronger tension surrounding the group. Kel and Aubrey fighting he could understand, even Kel and Aubrey dragging Hero in to play referee he could understand, but never before had Basil seen Kel yell at Hero. Kel worshipped the ground Hero walked on, his big brother could do no wrong, and Basil had never seen any evidence that he ever had.

But Kel wasn’t done yet, and he continued his yelling. It was like something had cut into him with those words, and now that something, dark and black, was finally getting a chance to leak out of Kel. Basil knew all about Somethings. About how painful it was to live with them, about how they always eventually burst out and demanded to be seen. He just had never thought Kel might have a Something too.

“It isn’t fair that they get to spend years being terrible people. and then just act like they never did any of it. It isn’t fair that I have to just pretend like they weren’t awful to me. Like I didn’t spend most afternoons crying on my walk home because of them. Like I didn’t have to second guess everything single thing I did because they made me think that I was a bully.”

Basil had remembered hearing them calling Kel that before, and it had confused him then too. Kel had never done anything like bullying to anyone, but Basil had dismissed it. It seemed so ridiculous to him, he thought Kel would have just let it go too. Apparently not

“All I’ve ever done is try to help. I smiled and laughed and pretended like nothing bothered me because that’s what everyone else needed. And what did that get me? A bat to the face and being told by my own bullies that I was the one messing with them. They’re the bullies. Mean, angry bullies who I never did anything to. Except try to be friends with you.” Kel finally pulled his eyes to Aubrey with this final word, cutting his furious ranting off with a half laugh half sob. He brought his knees up to his chest and put his arms on top of them. He wasn’t crying, but the pain in his eyes was enough to make Basil’s own chest ache in sympathy.

“And then you let them call me a bully. When I didn’t do anything except try to help.”

Kel dropped his head against his knees, hiding and breathing harshly. His shoulders rose and fell. Up and down and up and down as he panted with exertion from his outburst of emotion. None of them made a sound. Basil wouldn’t have known what to say after that, and he was sure no one else did either. They also couldn’t have been prepared for the final blow that was about to be dealt.

“You all just wanna pretend like none of it ever happened...like all that time didn’t matter.” Kel’s voice was muffled, but the words hit all of them like a punch to the gut.

It wasn’t just about this one fight, it wasn’t even just about Aubrey’s friends. It was bigger, stretching out for years and years of suffering that had never been addressed. Basil’s breath caught in his throat, and he could see the others were in a similar state of shock. He looked down at his interlocked fingers, his stomach twisting up in knots.

It was so easy to forget with Kel. It was so simple to just get lost in his happy go lucky personality and his endless bounds of optimism. He always had time for them all, always willing to go that extra mile to help out his friends when they needed him.

He hadn’t given up on them. He hadn’t stopped knocking on Sunny’s door, even when he never answered. He hadn’t stopped saying hi to Basil, even when he didn’t say hi back. He hadn’t stopped encouraging Hero, even when Hero had no encouragement left to offer in return. He had even still looked for the good in Aubrey, when she had nothing good to say about him. That was just who Kel was, someone who kept trying.

But Basil knew better than any of them that a person could only be pushed so far before there was a part of them that was cracked and bleeding and needed others to heal it. Kel was a nice person, a happy person, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have his moments of doubt. The times where he needed to rely on them instead of the other way around. He never pushed, so no one ever was forced to notice all the bad thoughts and emotions piling up under that sweet sunshine smile. It was just easy to forget that those things existed behind his joy and his upbeat attitude.

They were the people who should have remembered to look. They were the ones who should have known. They had all wanted things to go back to the way they were, but the truth was they couldn’t.

There was no way to erase four years, no way to let go of what had happened to Mari. It existed, it was real, and all of them had tried to ignore it. All except for Kel, who had done everything he could to hold them all together without so much as a complaint. He was right, instead of acknowledging his sacrifices, they had acted like none of it had ever happened. That was what was unchallenging, that was what took no effort. But that was also what was killing Kel inside.

He didn’t know what they could say that would even start to mend four years of their friend trying and failing and continuing to try against all hope. What could a person say to that kind of dedication? What kind of thanks could be given to someone who took on that burden without a word until it had nearly crushed him?

It turned out that Basil didn’t need to know the answer. There was someone else who did.

Aubrey rose up from her spot across from Kel on the picnic blanket and plopped down next to him, turning her head away from the other boy. Her hand moved to his, settling on his elbow and grabbing his attention. Kel raised his head, staring silently at her as she looked at him from the side.

Basil didn’t know what conversation the two of them had without words, but he suspected he would never know. Things like that were only ever meant for two people, and even asking about it was treading on something sacred. Whatever it was, it was enough for Kel to uncurl from the position he had put himself in. He sat on his knees facing Aubrey, and she turned to do the same. She took a deep breath and raised her head, meeting his gaze fully.

“I’m sorry,”

It wasn’t much, when it came down to it. It wasn’t a long speech filled with tears and impassioned pleas. Aubrey wasn’t on her knees begging for forgiveness, or making promises to be better. She hadn’t even said it in a special tone or in a whisper meant just for the two of them. It was an apology, nothing more, nothing less.

It wasn't really much, but it felt so big. They were all touched by her words, all impacted by the enormity of such a small but profound statement. Sunny edged closer and leaned against Basil, and the weight against his side was warm and grounding. He looked down at the top of Sunny’s head, and the vines looping around his spine eased away once more.

When he turned back, Aubrey and Kel were hugging, sitting up on their knees and clutching hard to one another. He wasn’t sure which one of them moved first, but it wasn’t something he had ever seen. Basil has only ever seen them giving each other quick little hugs, or the awkward side squeezes Hero demanded after their fights. But this wasn’t either of those. It was genuine and real, and they both seemed a little reluctant when they pulled apart.

Hero, ever the older brother, beamed and pulled the basket to the center of their group, changing the subject to the food that he and Kel made. To anyone outside of their group, it might have seemed like a callous way to change the subject, but the other four were grateful for something to switch their minds to.

With the moment over, Aubrey went back to her usual brusque, digging into the basket and pulling out a sandwich and bottle of water. She grabbed the food and Sunny’s hand, dragging him over to one of the corners and demanding to hear about his new house. Sunny obliged her, talking about his room and the renovation plans his mother had begun.

Kel drifted over to Hero, falling against his brother’s side and leaning his head against Hero’s shoulder. Basil didn’t interrupt, but he watched Hero wrap Kel in his arms and whisper in his ear, something that had to be comforting given how Kel nodded and snuggled closer to his brother. Hero squeezed Kel and turned to Basil.

“How’s the new garden coming along?”

[marvelatthetwilight]

Found in Forks

A/N: A quick one. To satisfy an Emmett shaped need in this story.

Y/N’s POV

Months had passed since we had declared our love, solidifying my bond with Paul. We were inseparable. I couldn’t bear to spend time without him, and even in his company, I NEEDED to be as close to him as possible.

When the pack were discussing the threat of the newborn army I couldn’t help my nerves from making my legs shake, my foot tapping against the leg of the table. Paul reached over and squeezed my hand. He gave me a look that said it’ll be ok. I was desperate to believe that was true.

“We are meeting the Cullens in an hour to train.” Sam said after hanging up the phone to Carlisle.

I felt Paul shake with anger beside me and a growl left his lips. “Why do we need to train, we’ve hunted bloodsuckers before?” He said, whilst I curled up against him to dissipate his anger, he wrapped his arm around me and kissed the top of my head.

“Carlisle said this will be different, we need to trust them right now Paul. This threat isn’t just for them, we need to protect the reservation” the pack nodded at this and Paul didn’t press any further.

Everyone split off after this, with Quil and Embry heading off on patrol, agreeing to meet in the field in an hour. I turn in my seat to look Paul in the eye. “I want to come to training.”

Paul laughs, then sees the serious look in my eye and shakes his head. “Nope, not happening. I’m not putting you at risk by taking you to the bloodsuckers. That’s ridiculous.”

I place a hand on either side of his face and look deep into his eyes.

“I need this. I need to see that you will be ok. If I see you train it’ll make me feel better, help me to visualise you winning. Please Paul.” I try my best puppy dog eyes that I know he can’t refuse and he huffs in reply.

“Fine. But you will NOT be leaving my side, promise?”

“As if I ever would.” I reply and he pulls me tight towards him, kissing my forehead.

“I love you Y/N” he looks down at me, his eyes now softer.

“And I love you” I smile up at him and kiss him softly on the lips.

~~~

We had made it to the agreed field, with the Cullens already standing waiting. I could see Bella who Jacob always talking about was standing there too, recognising her from school, so I’m not the only human here. I send a small wave and a smile in her direction and she waved back, surprised to see me with the pack. Edward whispers something to her and she nods in understanding.

I slide off of Paul’s back once we come to a stop, and he gestures for me to take a seat in the grass. He lays down beside me once I am seated.

I look across at the Cullens, my first opportunity to see the whole family, having only seen the “children” briefly at school before.

Your eyes land on Emmett. You remember him from school, sitting in the cafeteria with the other Cullens, and you are reminded how much he looks like your dad and your grandpa. The similarities are uncanny. Images of your dad and your grandpa flash in your head as you compare them to the cold one you see in front of you. Weird.

You glance away and see Edward staring at you, a look of realisation on his face. Paul growls from beside you and you stroke the fur around his face before leaning your head against him. “Oh be quiet Paul, he’s doing nothing wrong” you whisper to him. He huffs before turning his attention to Carlisle, who begins to address the pack.

“Welcome, Jasper has experience with the newborns, and will teach us how to defeat them.”

Paul nods slightly beside you.

“They want to know how the newborns differ from us” Edward says as he reads the packs’ minds, Paul had told you about the gifts they possessed on your way to the meeting.

“They’re a great deal stronger than us because their own human blood lingers in their tissues. Our kind is never more physically powerful than in our first several months of this life” Carlisle explains. You shudder at this thought, fearful for your friends and Paul. As if sensing this he leans towards you, and your body relaxes with the contact.

Jasper steps forward, and addresses the pack. “A newborn army doesn’t need thousands like a human army. But no human army can stand against them. Now the two most important things to remember are; first, never let them get their arms around you, they’ll crush you instantly. The second, never go for the obvious kill, they’ll be expecting that, and you will lose.”

The Cullens begin to demonstrate fighting, as Jasper narrates, advising the pack on what to do, or what not to do in some cases.

As the training comes to an end, Jared and Paul head off for patrol, Embry and Quill promising to get you back to Emily’s safely as they wait for you to finish talking to Bella.

“I’m so sorry the pack need to be involved Y/N.” Bella says quietly, an apologetic look on her face.

“The threat is a risk to everyone, including the reservation, they would help whether you ask them to or not, it’s just what they’re like.” You say with a smile as you watch Embry and Quil practise some techniques with Jasper.

“Y/N” Edward joins Bella, an arm quickly wrapped around her, pulling her close to his side.

“Edward, nice to see you again.” You were briefly lab partners a couple of years ago and you always appreciated how little he talked, no awkward small talk, unlike some of your peers. Little did you know that he also appreciated working with you, your mind was never filled with the inane gossip of your classmates.

“I don’t know if Paul has told you, but I can...hear people’s thoughts. I didn’t want to alarm you but I need to talk to you about something you thought about when you first got here” you nodded slowly, trying to remember what you had thought about.

“Erm...ok? I can’t remember what it was though?”

“It was when you were looking at Emmett, you thought he showed some similarity to some family members?” He motions for Emmett to join them.

“I’ve always thought it, but dismissed it before as it was ridiculous. He looks exactly like my dad and my grandpa, I’m sure my grandma has some photos of my grandpa when he was younger in one of her photo albums and he looks identical”.

Emmett appears at Edward’s side just as you finish talking. He frowns slightly and then asks; “where are your family from Y/N?”

“Erm...well my dad was born here in Forks but my grandpa was from Tennessee...Gatlinburg I think my grandma said.”

Emmett’s eyebrows dart up in shock and shortly after Edward’s expression changes to shocked too. Emmett walks closer, not worrying about the distracted wolves.

“What was your grandpa’s name Y/N?”

“Ernest Y/L/N”

Emmett smiles a big smile, and turns to Edward, then motions for Rosalie to join them. He squeezes Rosalie’s hand, excitement showing on his face.

“Y/N, I think your grandpa was my nephew. My older sister Mary was his mother, Mary Y/L/N. That makes me your great-great uncle!”

You laugh at this, moving forward to hug Emmett, he picks you up, wrapping his large arms around you. This draws attention from Embry and Quil, who quickly realised that Paul would destroy them if anything happened to you. They move forward quickly, as if they are going to attack before Edward steps in front of you and Emmett trying to explain.

“They’ve just discovered they’re related, it’s a hug! He isn’t attacking her.”

The wolves look at each other, then back at you as Emmett sets you back on the ground.

“I’m fine guys, just happy!”

You turn your attention back to Emmett as he speaks again, “when I died I worried about my family a lot, I was the only son, I was strong and provided for them when my dad got too old. I left them some money, but after we moved away I never found out what happened. Now I know!”

You smile at this. “My grandpa always used to tell us stories about his uncle when we were younger, he was wild, he used to say, really strong, and an amazing hunter. He said they were all devastated when you were eaten by a bear...”

Emmett looks sad at this.

“Were they ok though, how did Ernest end up here?”

“I’m not really sure, but my grandpa owned a hunting shop just outside of Forks, they were comfortable I think. My dad is a lawyer, based out of Seattle during the week, then he comes home to Forks at the weekends. My grandpa saved up to put dad through school, he was so proud of him.”

A smile returns to Emmett’s face, as he thinks about his nephew, hard working like him, providing for his family.

Rosalie walks over and wraps an arm around his waist. “So all these years of wondering, wanting to go back to Tennessee to try and find them and you’ve found your family in Forks?”

“Looks like it babe!” He ruffles your hair as he speaks and you try to swat his arm away.

“I’m so happy to meet you Y/N, I’ve spent years wondering, and now I know.” You smile at your great-great uncle, wishing you could tell your family. Edward heard this and walks to your side, placing his hand on your shoulder.

“You are welcome to our house anytime, you’re part of the family now...with...er...wolf bodyguards of course” he adds as he glances to the wolves growling behind you.

You laugh as you look at the wolves, then back at the Cullens. I’m so lucky to have found so many people to call family.

Taglist:

@volturidoll13 @clearwater-hoe @like-rain-or-confetti @teampaul @fatiguing-thoughts @wallwriterstuff @moviequeen51 @awesomebooklover17 @cncogirl18 @megzdoodle

[crowtrinkets]

Barista’s Adventures in Wonderland

Chapter 3: Cat Girls Are Ruining My Tea Party

Word Count: 1,405

The Barista finds the Holy Knight but it is not what they expected

Pt 1, Pt2,

SUPRISE SHAWTIES sorry for taking such a long time I promise I'm still writing I've just been busy ;u;  I am also a little rusty on my writing so please forgive, next chapter we meet a certain dramatic queen

---

More dirt, more trees, more seemingly endless paths that I trudge down.

"Sage gives out horrible directions, I wouldn't be surprised if I passed this Holy Knight already," I mutter to myself. I know this may be a dream but I make a note to never take directions from cat men again. I stop in my tracks to try and gather my bearings, leaning against a tree I try to recall just how many turns and loops I took. My foot then slips on the dirt and I begin to roll down a drop in the path. I don't even have time to scream before I am meeting a hard wooden surface. Various glass items surrounding me crash onto the ground and I hear multiple gasps around me. I let out a groan and run my hand across my face. I will definitely feel this tomorrow, in the morning? When I wake up? I'm not sure all I know is that hurt. Suddenly the sound of boots on wood approaches me. I look up squinting, still recovering from my tumble. I see the silhouette of a person, fire in their hand, and something pointing directly at my face.

"I knew you were coming for me assassin, however, that was the most pathetic approach I've ever seen!" they say to me. The flame in their hand grows bigger and my heart begins to pound.

"I-I'm sorry, but I'm not an assassin," I squint my eyes harder trying to make out any features of this person threatening me.

"Well you sure aren't dressed like one," a smoother voice to my left speaks up. I look over to see a woman. "Now now Anisa, you're scaring this poor soul, I doubt they could even hurt a fly," she says. "Anisa" pauses for a second and lets her flame emitting from her palm die out.

"Yes I guess you are correct, my apologies," she reaches a gloved hand out to me which I grab. When I finally meet Anisa's face I flush. She has some of the brightest green eyes I've ever seen, and her smile is so warm and inviting despite her threatening me a second ago. A large colorful bow sits on her half updo, it is covered in frills and lace. I am brought to my feet and realize the object Anisa was pointing at me was a baguette? Not the strangest thing I've seen here though.

Taking in my surroundings I realize Anisa and I are standing on a table and various tea sets surround us, Although most of it is broken due to my entrance.

"Ah, I'm sorry for ruining your... tea party?" I apologize weakly. Anisa descends off the table, still holding my hand and helping me down.

"My, Anisa, don't go catching too many hearts," the woman from before says. Now that I have gathered myself I can fully take in the woman's features, she has cat like ears, similar to the man Sage I met earlier, they flick when her stunning eyes meet mine, a smirk plastered on her lips, her dyed curls seem to shine in the light and I have to stop myself from gawking.

"Speak for yourself," I hear Anisa mutter. She releases my hand and takes a step back to bow to me. "My name is Anisa, I am the Holy Knight around here, and she is-"

"Ayanna, but you can just call me any time," she says with a wink.

I flush for what feels like the millionth time.

"Oh uh, nice to meet you my name is-"

"Stop going around flirting with everyone that comes round! Besides we have no room," Anisa walks over and onto the other side of the table and plants herself on a stool making the whole table shake.

"Oh please, I wasn't flirting, just being polite and there's nothing wrong with them staying for a bit," Ayanna then turns to me "Would you like some wine dear?" I hesitate my answer when I remember my last encounter with wine. But I am once again interrupted by the two women in front of me.

"They do not need any wine! And as I told you we have no room," Anisa crosses her arms and faces away from Ayanna. I look down the long table and see plenty of empty chairs, none with place cards as well so Anisa's concept of them having "no room" confuses me.

"Well maybe if they answer this riddle they might sit with us?" Ayanna purrs. Anisa shoots me a toothy smile, I swear for a second they glint in the light.

"Well, dear Traveler,"

"Uh- Barista," I correct.

"Yes Barista, tell me, why is a cat like a teacup?" at the mention of the word cat, a black and white fluffy mass rises from one of the chairs and hops onto the table. A cat with no tail and large green eyes sits between Ayanna and Anisa and stares at me. I hold in a chuckle as her tongue sticks out.

"Well, they're similar because... uh because," I've never been good at riddles but this one doesn't even make the slightest bit of sense. I think for a second but my train of thought is interrupted by my stomach growling.

Right the dinner, I'm here for directions, not tea and nonsensical riddles. I turn towards the women who stare at me with idle curiosity, and some sort of hunger that unnerves and excites me.

"I actually can't stay, I just need to be pointed in the direction of the queen's dinner party?" Ayanna and Anisa both glance at each other in surprise, I swear for a second the tail-less cat also looks at me in shock. Anisa rises from her chair and walks over to the table so she can meet me on the other side. She grabs hold of my hands.

"Oh you can't go to that dinner, the queen has been quite crossed lately, he may rip out your soul just for looking at him funny,"

"M-my soul?" I almost laugh in disbelief. Ayanna stands causing her chair to squeak.

"No you've got it all wrong, it's not the queen who's been upset, it's the king, the queen is more of a. . . a figurehead I guess you could say," Ayanna gestures nonchalantly.

"King? all this time I've only been hearing about this queen, so they're married?" I question. Anisa lets out a snort.

"Oh no! It's more of an unfortunate partnership, like a business deal," gripping my hands tighter Anisa looks off in the distance, a tinge of pain behind her eyes. "The king shouldn't even be alive, I killed him myself," she mutters. I feel my heart skip a beat. Did she just say that? Ayanna tuts as she listens to us.

"Anisa, dramatic as always, just because you are a knight does not mean you need to save the whole world," she swirls her glass of wine before taking a sip. Anisa drops my hands and turns towards her.

"I am merely fixing the mistakes of the past, mother,"

"Anisa, don't you dare-"

"Oh look seems like we're out of tea," Anisa quips, she then grabs the tailless cat and a teapot and walks off into the forest, Ayanna follows behind, and a string of arguments slews out from them as they walk.

Feeling awkward, I rub my arms and wince when a stinging on my forearm catches me. I look and realize I must have cut myself when I landed on that table. Hissing I use my hand to apply pressure to stop the bleeding. I freeze when my hand starts to glow.

"Why does this keep happening?" The light grows brighter and I shut my eyes so I am not blinded. When the light dissipates I look at my arm and see the cut is now gone, not believing it I look at my hand where I cut myself earlier and see that it is gone as well.

"Hey, that's convenient,"

I stand in silence for a minute, trying to ponder the strangest tea party I have ever attended and the strange healing magic I just performed. Was that even magic? Or am I just an amazing lucid dreamer. I look back at the spot where I fell and snag a cookie before following a path that trails off in the opposite direction of the strange women I just met

[plxtokid]

summer rain - zutara oneshot

Pairing: Zuko x Katara (Zutara)

Rating: General Audience

Word Count: 1.6k

Prompt: “Try again.”

Author’s Note: Hello again! School has been kicking my ass recently but no homework today so I got to edit this oneshot which I’ve been neglecting for far too long (thank you @refulgentart for helping my dumbass edit ily). I don’t normally touch ATLA in terms of writing, but I saw this really rad piece of art by the amazing @elithien (which you can find here) that inspired me to try it out :) You can find the link for the ao3 version of this here (please go and throw some kudos at it if you’d like <3). Please enjoy!

requests open, notes appreciated :) thanks for sticking around!

Hand-to-hand combat was the fucking worst, and Zuko grinned knowing that was exactly what Katara was thinking. In retrospect, she knew it was so much easier to channel your energy into something like water, graceful, flowing, gentle yet powerful; than to use just the power available to you. In this case, the power available to her was her small, not particularly muscular limbs. Her thin fingers were not built to fight, just to dance with the water.

This is probably why Zuko looked like he was having such a good time. In the early twilight next to the small campfire they had set up, his body was one with the flickering of the shadows, tall and imposing as they wavered on the trunks of the tall evergreens. Fire was force. Fire was brutal and unforgiving and a promise; the eternal promise of power. There was a reason they were originally so opposed to each other- she went to sleep every night remembering that crystal cave, both of them bathed in the soft blue glow of the walls. As if it was just them, sitting at the bottom of a still ocean. The world was so vast, and they clung to each other the way snow stuck to her clothes. Despite everything that followed, she didn't think they ever let go. But she felt different now, Zuko had redeemed himself in every way that was available to him, and then every way that wasn't. She watched as he constantly sought out ways to make her life better. The last few years following the end of his father’s reign he spent rebuilding his country and fixing their friendship, both with a gentle hand the late Fire Lord Ozai was never capable of. The way he looked at her like he did after she told him about her mother, she saw it in his gaze every day. 

“Katara, you okay?” She snapped out of whatever haze she was in, looking back at Zuko who relaxed his stance. They were practicing turning kicks, but all she could do was think about the way he looked at her. She let out a sharp breath in an attempt to snap herself out of whatever place her mind was at. This wasn't productive for either of them, she tried to push off her embarrassment, getting into stance. 

“Sorry, I’m ready,” she stated firmly. He nodded with a small and forgiving smile and got into a defense stance.

“He never used to smile like that.” She kicked, turning her foot out as she raised her other leg up and swung forward towards his arms. She knew it was a bad one before she even followed through on the motion. 

“Try again, this time use your right arm to propel you forward.” He gave her a small nod of encouragement and she tried again. This time her foot met its target, but still pretty sloppy. She was so used to being loose and open. This art of fighting was all tight and close, she wasn't familiar with being so close to herself. The arms guarding her chest missed the mindless dance of limbs and water, she felt more like a rock in a stream. He got out of stance and took a few steps toward her, positioning himself behind her. She tried not to react as he put one hand on her arm and another on her waist. His hands were similar to hers, fire and water both came from long, thin fingers. But his hands had seen battle, fire drew his calloused fingers and palms, yet he held her as if she was glass.

“Keep your shoulders down and your left arm close,” He pulled her arm closer in towards the two of them, blocking her chest area. “If you’re using your other arm to add force, be ready to bring it up-” he guided her arm up, “out,” as he pushed her arm out with his right hand, she could feel his breath on her ear, “and back towards you to protect yourself.” When he brought her arm back towards her chest, he paused. They lingered there for a moment. Stood with his hand on her waist and his other arm wrapped around her torso.  She could have burst into Summer rain if he held her a second longer, but he let go, the heat of his hand on her arm and waist dissipated. She didn’t know if she wanted that feeling to stay. He took a few steps back and got into position.

“Try again.” His eyes never left hers. She nodded and gave him a small smile, and he looked as if he was trying not to smile back as she pushed all of her energy into her right side and kicked into his arms. The impact seemed to make a slight echo, the sound of their connection bounced off the trees and was lost in the ambiance of the grasshoppers and wind. But it was there, she still felt it in her core, whatever this feeling was. 

Katara tried again. And she tried again. It may have been an hour of her kicking, Zuko giving feedback and her adjusting a little bit, hoping her muscles would remember this the way she could remember the water. Eventually when the night caught up to them, with shallow breath and tired muscles, the two sat against the fallen log that laid next to the fire as they ate. After eating in silence for a while, Katara paused. “How…” she trailed off. She didn’t understand how to phrase the question in a way that a fire bender would understand. He looked over at her with curious intent, and she almost could bear his gaze, she still felt the outline of his hand on her waist. 

“How do you remember? With water, it’s how I grew up, how I lived, spoke, fought, loved-” she caught herself, realizing how far this question went. “Fire is all you know, it’s what you were taught, it’s the society you lived in, it shows in how you live and interact with people,” she looked over at him to see if he understood. He nodded, understanding and pushing her to continue. “When it is just fighting, with no elements involved, how do you remember something that hasn't been a part of you your whole life?” She looked over at him, but not in his eyes. She would do anything to avoid his eyes in that moment, an attempt to ignore the feeling of him studying her. But he nodded, and looked into the endless forest that surrounded them. She could see him thinking over the question, the way one evaluates a battle strategy. He nodded to himself and scooted over closer to her. She tried to ignore her heart, now banging on the front of her chest like a trapped animal.  

“Knowing and feeling are different, you and I know that more than everyone,” she nodded, understanding but not knowing where he would lead his advice. “When you know something, it’s shallow. There might be effort, but it will always only be half of what you are capable of until you can feel it. It’s the same way you feel when you look back on memories, or think about someone you love or hate.” Zuko stopped and looked over at her, but wouldn’t look at her in the eyes. She knew the void expression, the eyes of someone who held the weight of death in their hands and should have let go of it long ago. The way a child in war only remembers the pain they caused because it was all they knew. That child was Zuko, and she tried to restrain herself, knowing he still blames himself for the death of her mother. “When you remember fighting, it isn’t like learning at school. Remember the kicks and the punches like they are a feeling, one that constantly fills you and follows you. It can be bad or good, but it’s a feeling that you can call on whenever, and it’ll be there for you.” She looked at him, taking in his words and their underlying emotions as he looked down at the forest floor, mindlessly weaving the grass between his fingers. 

“I understand,” she said, almost but not quite a whisper, barely heard over the lull of the wind. She sat on his left side, towards his scar. To him, she knew it was painful. Katara saw where he drew his fight and his flame from. But she saw it differently. To her, his scar was a promise to be better, a promise to both of them she remembered every day. She leaned forward, tracing the bottom of the scar around his cheek. Almost to her surprise, she felt as he leaned into her touch, and she regretted the day she asked him to remove it, a reminder of how much they had grown since they were kids, stuck in a war that wasn't theirs to fight. 

“Thank you,” she said, leaning forward and holding the other side of his face as she lightly kissed the area next to his eye. The smell of smoke and pine lingered around him, and she took as much of it in as she could. Her lips lingered, and the heat of his skin on her lips made her almost giddy. He smiled, his hand finding hers and giving it a small squeeze. The midnight sky glimmered through the trees, and Katara gazed up. The feeling of this, of now, forever imprinted in her.

[thespianbooks]

A Court of Nightmares and Starlight //Chapter 23//

Masterlist

(tags: @thron3ofbooks, @df3ndyr, @courtofjurdan, @art-e-mis, @herondamnn, @the-third-me, @im-still-trying-here, @emikadreams, @paytin77, @mis-lil-red, @sleeping-and-books, @lucieisabooknerd, @amandaraey-sunshine, @easy-p-lemon, @azymondias05, @dagypsygirl, @makeshift-utopia) *bold tags don’t work ;-;

Sorry this chapter is late today, it’s just been a crazy hectic week, but I’ve been determined to still post on Monday’s dammit! Even at 8PM 😅 Enjoy! 

XXX

A week into our newfound peace, Rhys and I were glad to be rid of Keir and the ongoing threat he posed, but now faced the aftermath of the Illyrians and the rebellion they had raised on their side of the coup. While Keir and his Darkbringer generals had been easily taken care of by Mor, we were now faced with the task of dispensing the repercussions to the Illyrian camp lords that sided with Kallon.

"I want all the camp lords dead," Rhys said—darkly and very matter-of-factly to our inner circle; all of us having gathered in the small cabin at Windhaven.

Following the battle, it only took a couple of days to round up the rogue Illyrians into the prison camps that had been established. Cassian had also separated the camp lords from their legions and imprisoned them separately. He, Azriel, Rhys and I decided early on that their sentences would differ from their soldiers as a warning that another attempt like this wouldn't be taken lightly—if our powerful friends throughout the other courts weren't foreboding enough. As the days passed, most of our court allies had returned back to their respective territories; Tamlin being the first, followed by Tarquin with the promise to send any other additional aide we might need; as well as good wishes for my mate and I and our baby. Eris left shortly after without any additional fanfare, but gave us a less-than subtle reminder of his father who continued to rot in their dungeons, though any thoughts of possibly dealing with the elder male left me weary. Rhys assured me that Eris would be more than pleased to manage with his father. Only a few days after that, Helion and Thesan agreed to stay behind with their general commanders and a small intel of higher-ranking soldiers in order to help keep an eye on our newly stationed prisons. They decided to leave the rest of this issue in our hands by wisely sitting out of the meetings Rhys and I had with our family.

Cassian visibly stiffened at my mate's words, but before he had a chance to protest, I held up a hand and turned to him. "That is almost half of the camp lords in Illyria, some that have been in their position for centuries, Rhys," I shared a quick exchange with Cassian, who looked on with approval.

"You, Cassian, and Azriel came to the conclusion long ago that this had to be dealt with more delicately, right?" I posed.

The tension in Rhys's shoulders remained, but his face shifted from dark to moderate as his eyes trailed over my rounded stomach; more pronounced than ever at this stage, and more so while I sat in the chair at the table we gathered around. With only a little less than two months to go, I was growing increasingly uncomfortable as the days dragged on. With the dust settled, the adrenaline I had gathered in the past weeks began to dissipate—leaving me with the aches and pains I had grown accustomed to, along with my more sluggish movement.

Rhys's gaze lingered on my stomach. "That was a decade ago, when we were speculating. Things played out a lot differently than we originally anticipated."

"But we had a hunch on this outcome, Rhys. Feyre is right, we were right back then. We can't kill our way out of this one," Cassian explained.

From the corner of my eye I noticed Azriel silently watching their exchange, arms crossed, and it didn't take much to assume what his opinion on the matter was.

"Well how else do we send a message to them? Apparently executing the camps who sided with Amarantha didn't send it clear enough, because they pulled this," Mor challenged.

I turned a withered gaze in her direction. She did have a point, but I still couldn't help feeling that simply sentencing high-ranking Illyrians to death wasn't the answer we needed.

"That, and the losses they suffered from the war with Hybern only added to their list of grievances against us. Adding more to their dead would only strengthen that point for them," Cassian argued.

"These people are ruthless," Nesta pointed out, staring Cassian down hard as his head turned at her words. "The only way to match that and make sure our point is received is by being equally merciless."

"The girl has a point, Cassian." Amren drawled from her spot next to me, her petite legs draped casually on the table. "Violence begets violence."

"We don't need any more violence," Elain suddenly said, surprisingly assertive—even as everyone directed their astonished stares at her.

"Feyre is about to have a baby. That baby is going to take over as High Lord one day, and we don't want him inheriting the difficulties you all have been dealing with for centuries," she explained. "The whole reason we sought to end this coup was to herald in a new era of peace. So, we have to establish that now. Somehow."

I smiled gratefully in return and noticed that while Nesta and Cassian stared at my otherwise timid sister, Azriel fought a grin on his composed face. Amren, however, allowed a long feline grin to grow on her lips.

"Wise words, girl," she said casually.

Mor's grin was friendly, but worried. "That would be ideal, but these are the Illyrians we're talking about."

"There must be something we can do," Elain insisted.

"There is," Rhys finally spoke up. "But will be hard pressed to find."

I drummed my fingertips along the apex of my belly, Sebastian mercifully sleeping after a night of constant kicking, and I debated aloud. "What if we took something of value to them? Something that would cost them they're rank and force them into different occupations in the camps? Like say...an ability?"

Azriel was the first to understand what I meant, eyes growing wide with an astonished blink, Rhys and Cassian following and looking equally shocked.

"That practice was banned centuries ago," Rhys said, though he didn't sound too bothered.

"In regard to females," Cassian interjected as he crossed his arms again with a smug smirk.

"It would certainly make them wish they were dead," Azriel added, also unbothered.

"And makes for a rather profound impact," I concluded with a small grin. "Any other sympathizers for their cause will think twice before trying to oppose our rule again."

Mor and Amren seemed to catch onto what we were implying, as did Nesta—who bent down to mutter in our sister's ear to inform her. Elain's eyes went wide but didn't protest.

"Well girl, it appears pregnancy hasn't affected that mischievous mind of yours," Amren mused, grey eyes almost seeming to shimmer as she spoke.

"It looks like we have our solution then," Mor said with a satisfied sigh. "Can we get the hell out of this frozen tundra now and go back to Velaris?"

Rhys nodded, placing a hand on the back of my chair. "We will, just as soon as Feyre darling delivers the sentences to the camp lords."

I blinked and turned my head to face him. "Me?" I asked.

"Well, it was your idea, my love," Rhys replied with a wicked grin.

"And since you weren't at the battle, it'd be good for them to hear and see their High Lady. Give them another reminder of your position and the power you hold as well," Cassian said.

I sighed tiredly, running both hands along the expanse of my belly. I wanted nothing more than to return to Velaris—return home and finally enjoy this newly-granted peace, before a new chaos ensued in the form of a newborn high fae infant.

I promise, the first thing I'll do when we return to Velaris is draw you a warm bath

And bring me as many chocolate covered strawberries as I want? I asked in return.

His responding chuckle was aloud as he placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. I'll bring you whatever you're craving and more, my love

I smiled at him in return before facing the others. "All right, I'll address the camp lords and hand out their sentences, but I don't think I can stomach watching it all be carried out."

"Az and I will see to that, and we'll have the other prisoners and camp lords bear witness. That will guarantee that none of them ever try anything like this again," Cassian promised, though for a second I saw a glimmer of that long-held pain reflected in his eyes.

After the week it took to gather the last of our prisoners and the last efforts it took to clean up this mess, I still didn't get that moment alone to speak with Cassian. The night following the battle, Rhys had let down his black adamant shields, allowing me to see the fighting that took place after Keir's death. While the Illyrians and Darkbringers managed to hold their own for a time, they were certainly no match against our numbers with the other High Lord's forces combined. Even through his memories I could feel the ache my mate felt when facing his own people; the people and traditions he had been primarily raised in thanks to his mother. That ache and betrayal was just as present in Cassian, who would let out frustrated shouts of anger as he fought his fellow Illyrian warriors. Through Rhys's memory, I saw flashes of Cassian in battle and the inner turmoil he endured as he took down Illyrian after Illyrian. Both he and Rhys did their best to only knock them unconscious rather than kill them outright, but there were instances when it was their only option.

I stared at Cassian a little longer than I meant to, having realized it when he frowned with concern. "Feyre?" he asked.

I looked down at my lap, half covered by my belly, and squeezed Rhys's hand, still on my shoulder. "I need a moment with Cassian, please," I said to no one in particular.

Rhys pressed a kiss to the crown of my head as confirmation, and I didn't look up as I heard the scrapping of chairs as the others filed out of the cabin one-by-one. I waited until I heard the soft click of the door closing before I lifted my head to face the general—my general and commander.

My eyes stung as I sighed. "Cassian, I...I never got to apologize to you, for all of this," I started softly. "For your own people turning on you, and Rhys, and Az. For you having to fight them at all. I-I can't imagine how hard it must've been for you during that battle."

He crossed over to my side, pulling out a chair and turning it to face mine as he sat across from me. "Feyre, you're not the one who should be apologizing, there is no need," he said before taking my hands in his. "I have dealt with the Illyrians' resentment for centuries and learned a long time ago that I would never be more than some bastard-born nobody to them. I've accepted that."

"Still, to have to take down your own, to face them across the field and know of their intentions…" I said and shook my head with a sigh.

"It might've stung a little, but my loyalties lie elsewhere," he said with a small squeeze of my hands.

I offered him a sad smile in return, but he grinned. "I may command these legions, and consider myself a proud Illyrian male, but that is separate from you, Rhys, and the others. The Illyrians may be the foundation on which I was raised and trained, but Velaris—the rest of you, are my people."

Tears sprang to my eyes before I had the chance to control them and Cassian laughed, standing so he could kneel at my side and wrap an arm around my shoulders. He rubbed my back lightly as I cried.

"I'm beginning to wonder if you'll ever return back to the old Feyre once the little one is born. She was able to control her tears better," he contemplated.

I shoved his shoulder and he laughed again. "You have no idea how hard it is to control my emotions right now," I motioned to my stomach. "He has complete control over me."

"Oh, I don't envy that at all," he said before standing upright and offering me a hand up.

I sniffed as I took his hand, standing with a grunt of effort and resting a hand on the small of my back. "Thank you, Cassian," I said. "For helping make his world safer."

Cassian grinned in return, bowing with a hand over his heart—as he had when he swore his first oath to me. "Anything in service and protection for my High Lady," he said with a wink.

I laughed and after clearing away any lingering tears, he escorted me outside of the cabin; where I would address the imprisoned Illyrian camp lords and perform as High Lady for the last time before giving birth to their future High Lord.

XXX

Rhys's speech had been short and to the point. We agreed he would address the camp lords first before turning the verdict of their punishment to me. The minute the word clipped left my mouth, audible shocked gasps could be heard from the other camp residents and prisoners. Devlon's face was steeled over, despite having agreed with us on this course of action, I imagined the thought of losing one's ability to fly made every male here recoil—though Devlon's face remained as hard as ever.

Half of the camp lords looked disbelieving, thinking we wouldn't actually follow through on such a promise; until Kallon himself foolishly stepped forward and expressed as much, followed by spitting on the ground in front of where Rhys and I stood. Azriel had been quick in his response, a cobalt siphon flickering before a blue light shot out and flattened Kallon on his back—bright blue netting holding him down as he thrashed to get free. Azriel slowly walked over and forced one of the male's wings open, Truth-Teller in hand, before swiftly and brutally making the cut.

I tried not to look away even as my stomach churned at the male's screams. I continued to watch in abject horror until Rhys placed a hand on my back and led me away without another word, Cassian stepping into our place as we left.

The screams followed me all the way back to Velaris, Rhys carrying me in his arms as we flew through the skies as carefully as possible. Even now as I stood on the front balcony of the estate, overlooking the Sidra and city beyond, the anguished screams echoed through my mind for much longer than I wanted. It wasn't remorse that twisted in my gut—no, Kallon and every camp lord that decided to follow him deserved to be clipped as their punishment.

"It's the centuries and centuries you know that practice was performed on females," Rhys suddenly said from behind me, and I realized my shields were down as I twisted to find him leaning against the doorframe leading back into the estate. "And you're worried how they might retaliate."

I frowned, running both hands over the front of my stomach, holding it. "Do you think they will?" I asked softly.

Rhys sauntered over to me, pressing a lingering kiss to my brow. "It's certainly a possibility, but we'll be keeping a much closer eye on those camps, and the females residing there," he reassured me.

I sighed shakily with a nod, placing my hands on his shoulders. "I just...don't want them to use it as an excuse to clip any more females, even the ones that sympathized with their cause," I admitted.

"If they do, they'll pay the consequences. And for any other bullshit they try to pull," he pressed another kiss to my brow, both hands coming to hold my stomach. "But I have a feeling this will bring them down a couple notches, so we may not have anything to worry about for a while."

"I hope you're right about that," I said, closing my eyes with relief as he massaged the sides of my stomach, the muscles beneath my skin sore.

"Am I ever wrong, Feyre darling?" He asked with a wicked grin.

"You don't want me to answer that," I teased.

He gasped in mock hurt. "You wound me, my love," he said as his hands moved to my hips, eliciting a groan from my lips as he massaged the tender spots where the muscles of my stomach met my hips. "Come get some rest, it's been a hectic week."

I nodded and followed him back into our home, placing both of my hands on the small of my back as I began walking ahead of him. "Your son is starting to get heavier and heavier these days," I complained.

I glanced over my shoulder, seeing the wide grin on his face and raised a brow as he watched me walk. "What is it?" I asked.

"Your gait has changed, Feyre darling, that's all," he said as he caught up to my side, resting a hand in place of mine on my back.

I blinked. "What do you mean?"

"You're starting to waddle," he answered, his grin widening.

I balked and took a few more steps, noticing that I certainly was shifting my weight in a slight swaying motion as I walked. "Well, you can't blame me, I am carrying around a splendid burden in my gut."

"You certainly are, my love," he laughed as he guided me to the living area

I held onto both of his arms as I lowered myself onto the sofa, glad I had chosen such luxuriously soft furnishings for each room of the manor. "It's only going to get bigger...much bigger," I said as I stared at my stomach.

Rhys sat beside me, draping an arm over the back of the seat behind me. "That's a good thing. Madja says we want a healthy, cherub-cheeked babe," he said.

His violet eyes sparkled as he began stroking my stomach gently, his grin transforming into a warm smile. I smiled at him in return. "It's all just...becoming so real now. We've spent so much time worrying about the coup, and even though we had those periods of respite, it always lingered over us," I explained. "Now the only thing we have to look forward to is...becoming parents."

"Are you nervous?" Rhys asked, keeping a hand on my stomach.

I shook my head. "I'm excited to meet him, and hold him...to see you hold him," my eyes stung at just the mention of it and laughed at myself—exasperated at how quickly I continued to be reduced to tears.

Rhys pulled me closer, placing a kiss at my temple before moving to my ear. "I can't wait to see him in your arms, to see you nurse him and rock him to sleep," he purred.

I sniffed and nuzzled into his embrace, resting my face into the nape of his neck, breathing in his salt and citrus scent. "It's going to be wonderful isn't it?" I asked softly.

"That, and more," he replied, his chin resting atop the crown of my head as he inhaled my scent as well, both of us basking in each other as he caressed my belly—gratitude didn't even begin to explain what we were both experiencing in this moment.

Gratitude, and hope, and so much more.

[we-always-hit-our-ass]

Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder Pt. 2 (Eugene Roe x Reader)

Part 1

Requested by @wolfers-stuff​: “Can you please make a part 2 for 'absence makes the heart grow fonder'?...”

Author’s Note: One last farewell fic for y’all before I disappear. I apologize if the pacing or writing is wack, I’ve been trying to revise it- I’m also sorry for makin’ you wait this long, it was not my intention to. I hope you still enjoy this 💕

Words: around 8.3k

Disclaimers/Warnings: Angst witha happy ending, mild cursing, ooc Gene(??), and longass writing

Italics means the past or a memory

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Taglist:  @deldontplay, @thatsonefishyboi,@noneofurbusinez, @meteora-fc, @gutsandgloryhere, @hihosilvers, @basilonely, @floydtab, @wexhappyxfew, @sherlollydramoine, @meganthesunflower, @3milesup, @jamie506101, @sunflowerchuck, @softlieb, @k-websters, @punkgeekchic, @speirs-crazy-ass, @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant, @runtdrummer, @fromtheoldtimes, @liebegott, @tvserie-s-world​ 

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Carentan was successfully captured but work was just beginning for Gene. Countless men were taken in and out of the building where the medics were treating them. While it was better than getting shot at, it was still a far cry from somebody’s idea of relaxing.

Eugene sat wearily as he took care of men after men, but the stream never really seemed to stop. As much as Genie cared about the boys, a break would’ve been well appreciated by the medic. Chatter and the work kept Gene busy and soon his mind was focused on nothing other than what was in front of him.

That was probably why Eugene was so spooked when he heard a few light taps on the wooden frame behind him. A familiar light chuckle reached his ears and he turned around to see you with a smug smile carved on your lips. The cramped building felt just a bit more tolerable ever since you made your way to Eugene.

The tension that built up in Eugene’s soldiers dissipated faster the longer you were near him. Your presence was a blessing, and he stood by that statement. However, Eugene couldn’t help but slightly frown as he looked at the numerous men who still had to get treated. Carentan really did do a number on them, huh?

“As much as I want you by my side at all times, apparently being in a war doesn’t allow us to. I promise I’ll make it up to you, mon ange.”

Eugene’s reply held hints of disappointment and he directed his thumb towards his supplies and the men waiting to be treated. Yet you came closer and looked around the room before pressing an inconspicuous peck on his cheek. You leaned back to take in the slight red flush on Eugene’s cheeks before quickly crossing your arms.

“That’s what I came here for, Genie, y’know I will always try to make things a little bit easier for you.”

“If you’re saying you’re gonna help me patch all these boys up, be my guest.” Eugene lightly joked, shining blue eyes lighting up as he focused on your small grin. 

“I thought you were just an ordinary paratrooper.”

“Genie, y’know I am, I just came here to tell you that one of the medics in Dog Company offered to help us. You’re working yourself out, take a break. I think you of all people need one.”

Eugene couldn’t help but let out a soft, relieved sigh as he leaned back. You let out a chuckle as you helped him up from his seat and you could already see his tired and worn out eyes brightening up just ever so slightly.  

The two of you maneuvered your way through the building, finally making it out to the bright day. It was no surprise to say that you two spent the day laying soft kisses on each other’s skin, holding each other comfortingly in the secure enclosure of each other’s arms.

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

Eugene frustratingly ran his hands through his black hair, his brows furrowed and teeth clenched as another memory of you ran through his mind.

He hated to admit it, he really did but it was no secret that all hope was gone after the first week of you being missing. It was then that they knew that the world had lost an angel on that day. Eugene would’ve never allowed himself to think of that just a few days ago. Everyone had seemed to have moved on, everyone else except him.

No one actually knew if you were dead, yes, but the idea of you returning became more far-fetched as the hours dragged on into days. Eugene had always used to cling onto the small string of hope that you would come back to them. But now Eugene couldn’t help but let that hope slip through his fingers and fall into the never-ending loop of despair. 

The Cajun man would tell himself that he would soon get over it for it was just another aspect of war. The scars never really healed properly though, and once again Gene would find himself quietly lamenting on prior events in the dead of night.

Of course, he stopped that habit and learned how to choke it back down but still... It still hurt so, so, so much.

After his little dispute with Cobb, Eugene distanced himself from the company more than ever before. Many attempts were brought to bring back the Eugene Roe they once knew. The lone and quiet medic who still kept to himself but also the one who still shared a few smiles and laughs with them.

But as soon as they saw the lost and void look of the medic, all attempts would be forgotten. Then all the men could do was offer a few words of comfort before slowly walking away to leave Eugene to his thoughts. 

While he wasn’t very vocal, everyone knew what was running through his head. The young man bottled all of his emotions up, and even with a brief mentioning of your name, he felt like all of his feelings would just combust and burst out of him.

Days bled into each other and it was all but a cycle of the same thing. Eugene couldn’t be described as nothing more than a hollow shell of his former self. He could’ve been a stone statue for all that he knew. As much as he tried to steer his thoughts of your well-being, it was inevitable that maybe some thoughts would slip by.

If you were actually dead… Was it quick? Slow? Somehow peaceful? Though Eugene particularly disliked those ones, he would do anything for just a hint of closure. It was all too much to bear and it wasn’t long before his heart became so heavy that his chest would cave in.

Eugene would then quickly drift towards never ending questions if you did make it out. Hypothetical thoughts and scenarios played through his head in a loop.

If you were somehow alive, then why was it taking you so long to get back to them? If you came back, what would be the first thing you would do? Would you cry, hug the person closest to you, crack those jokes of yours, or would you take your time to look for him? Perhaps pull him into your embrace, or maybe even kiss him—

And that’s when he would stop himself. Eugene knew that if he continued to think of it, he knew it would just break him more if he ever found out that you were taken away from them.

You were a beautiful flower, the flower that he could admire and the flower that gave him happiness. Your vibrant petals and graceful stem flowing ever so gently in the wind. Yet you were plucked from the ground right before his eyes. His beautiful flower, his ange. 

The love of his life reduced to nothing but a mere memory— a dream that will never come true.

Before he knew it, faint footsteps were heard as somebody approached him. Eugene didn’t look up as he continued to let thoughts swarm his head, occupying the vacant space.

He could feel someone sitting beside him and he ever so slightly scooted away. It was only until he heard a familiar voice ring out in his ear did he look up.

“Gene?” Babe’s concerned face was evident but Eugene’s cold indifference was more.

Eugene stared at the Philly man for a few more seconds before glancing back down, his back hunched over with his hands intertwined.

“Gene… How— How are you, buddy?”

“Things could be worse,” Eugene responded curtly and Babe’s eyebrows furrowed more.

He knew what Eugene was thinking about. He was also one of the very few who could talk about you to him without getting the cold shoulder.

“Everyone’s worried about you, Gene. Can’t you see that?” Eugene only offered a small glance at his friend before turning his eyes back to the snow-covered ground.

He could feel Babe scooting closer and hear his soft, exasperated sighs. Eugene lifted up his head to give him an empty stare, as if to say for him to continue. Babe leaned his head back as he fiddled with his thumbs.

“What is it—”

“We’re really trying our best, Gene. Y’know… To make you slightly okay. It ain’t much, but you have to understand that we don’t want you... We don’t want you like this anymore.” Babe continued, lightly motioning his frigid hands toward Gene’s form. Eugene stayed silent once more and the air grew stale.

No one was around, and the sounds of Babe’s words were only amplified by the empty space. Eugene couldn’t find a response for Babe, how could he? Everything was just hard, even when they shouldn’t be. For now, it was all just too much for the Cajun medic.

“I know, Heffron.” It was all he could say to him at this moment.

“Well.. I’m glad that you do. But… For now—” Babe offered Eugene a hurried glance as he leaned his head back more.

Words were stuck in his throat and he couldn’t find it in his heart to say them to Eugene. But he needed to. And so he continued.

“Genie— I think… I think it’s best if you… Just— Forget about her for now—”

“No.”

He responded immediately. Eugene looked hard into the pleading eyes of Babe, and his face hardened for just a second before it softened once more.

“But Gene—”

“No…”

It was softer this time, almost like a leaf falling to the earth below— yet however Eugene’s husky voice held intensity. Babe didn’t even know if he heard it, but it was clear that Eugene did. The medic shook his head slightly and his vacant stare was replaced by a look that could be described as longing and miserable.

Babe got the memo and slowly got up from his spot. He offered a comforting hand on Eugene’s shoulder but Eugene didn’t mind one bit. Babe stood silently beside Eugene, offering slight comfort to the Cajun man. Babe stepped back slowly and made his way back to the main building.

He offered one last look to the unmoving figure of his friend before reluctantly continuing on his path. The loud crunching of snow that once occupied the space faded away with each second. It wasn’t long before it turned silent, and Eugene was left to his thoughts once more.

Eugene remembered a time where when he still thought of you, butterflies and warmth filled his stomach and a bashful smile would replace his previous expression. 

But now those butterflies were replaced by a sharp feeling of agony. No longer the warm and comforting feeling he once knew when his mind drifted towards you, but rather a deep, overwhelming feeling of despair that stayed forever in the pit of his stomach. 

The thin lines of his lips would turn down every time it happened. He couldn’t even breathe at this point, taking deep breaths in hopes to recover, but it never worked. If he could, Eugene would’ve already screamed out all his worries and pain until his vocal chords were raw.

The decrepit stone buildings made him trapped and the frigid atmosphere of Haguenau didn’t help him at all. But Eugene knew that it wasn’t the weather that was the problem. More or less, it just contributed to an already hopeless morning, afternoon, evening, or night. The days were gloomy and held no life and Eugene associated most of it to your disappearance.

Eugene felt at bliss whenever he was with you, for you were his small beacon of joy during all of this. You made everything more tolerable and happy that it actually was. No matter how grim the situation, your mere presence made everyone’s days brighter.  

But Eugene lost the one thing that kept him going, and he couldn’t do anything about it other than shove past it or dwell on it a bit longer. He didn’t like either options.

Eugene really had no clue as to how he’s still holding on. For someone who was realistic and almost pessimistic at times, Eugene couldn’t bear letting the thought of you returning go. As impossible as it seemed now to everybody, Eugene never let that thought falter too much.  And though Eugene hated it when a memory of you ran through his head, he made an effort to not forget those either.

It was really one of the few things that you left behind.

But now only constant flashes of memories occupied where you once were. Though he loved the silence with all of his heart, it now only served as a constant reminder that you weren’t there with him. It festered in his stomach restlessly and anything and everything reminded him of your absence.

But of course Eugene still loved you, his love for you was all but forgotten. It’s just… Almost funny how the world still manages to continue. Eugene didn’t even think that was possible, how it goes on and all. 

Even when you were gone. Eugene thought of Babe’s words and he told himself countless times that for once he should listen to him.

He just… He just couldn’t. But you—the person who always kept her head up during hard times— would’ve wanted him to move on.

You wouldn’t want him looking like this. Eugene could almost hear your concerned words and jokes that always cheered him up. He couldn’t help but crack a tight smile as he wondered at what could have been. Just when he’d thought this war couldn’t become worse, it did.

Eugene reminisced about the times he called you ‘mon ange’, the loving term of endearment taking another meaning.

He was too immersed that he couldn’t hear the footsteps coming towards him. Before he could delve any deeper in his speculations, Babe’s voice stops him. Eugene could see Babe’s figure just a couple steps away. The redhead’s face was still concerned and he waited idly before speaking.

“Let’s go, Gene.. Come inside, will ya?” Babe called out to him.

“Yeah.. Coming.”

Eugene sat in the same spot for just a few moments before he stood up. He looked back on what Babe said, maybe, just maybe— he’ll try to move on. Eugene couldn’t fathom the loss, as morbid as it was, he’d trade 10 men just to bring you back. God had other plans and Eugene wanted to scream at him for taking you too soon.

Why? Why? Why...?

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

It was one of those days where you and the company had time to rest and to say that you were overjoyed was an understatement. Settling on a spot that was private but still near, you and the Cajun man immediately loosened up. As the medic almost let his eyes close, you nudged him gently on the shoulder.

Eugene let out a questioning groan and as he slowly opened his eyes. Eugene’s eyes were met with you fumbling with the inside of your jacket. You were rummaging through it, looking for a certain something that might cheer him up.

Before Eugene knew it, you pulled out a chocolate bar, one that was surprisingly unbroken on smushed in any way. Eugene looked at you in amusement as his eyes glanced quickly between the bar and your closed eye grin.

“Look what I got, Genie! I found a candy shop nearby, thankfully no one managed to blast it— And I may or may not have snuck in and gotten a few bars.”

A mischievous glint flashed in your eyes as you offered Genie one of your many cheeky smiles.

“I gave some to the boys to share but I’m keeping the rest of it for us two. Genie— you have no idea how long it took me to find you so I could get you one of these. So you better be thankful.”

You scooted closer to him and you gently unwrapped the chocolate from its wrapper. You tenderly leaned on his shoulder and you can feel him lean his head on yours. You offered a broken piece out to him and he gladly took it.

Disbelief flashed across his face but it was washed away as soon as he once again laid eyes of your radiant face. Eugene gave you another small smile before popping the chocolate in his mouth. 

After finishing the piece, the amused smile he had before slowly made its way to his face again.

“After all of this, instead of checking in on yourself, you went into a candy shop to get us chocolate?”

A light teasing tone with the tiniest hints of concern coated his words and you gave him nothing but a glance. Eugene let out a breathy chuckle that was only accented by his husky voice and familiar accent. You really couldn’t help but let out one of your own chuckles while your face heated up. You then broke off another piece and handed it over to the medic.

“I have my ways—  And stop with the questions, just enjoy your chocolate, will you?” You replied, shoving more pieces of chocolate to him.

Eugene offered you one last glance and smile before looking forward and relishing in the sweet moment you two shared.

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

You didn’t know how long you were traveling, but it was obviously more than a couple of days. You lost a basic concept of time and all you focused on was how to get back to Easy. The snow made everything harder and you could’ve sworn you were already dead. The amount of times you almost got captured or shot were too many to count.

For now, you were just slowly relying on luck.

But you needed to get back to them, you desperately needed to. No matter how long it’ll take or how hard it’s going to be, you were determined to finally see them.

To see the boys. To see him. In times where you almost gave up, Eugene popped up into your mind. It was only then that you found the strength to keep traveling.

The crushing of the snow grew redundant and it wasn’t long before you grew sick of it. Your only support was the trees but you had already lost feeling in your limbs a long time ago. 

Small fires were made during the night but they never lasted long. You got used to the biting air of the forest but of course you would do anything to get out of it.

It took a long time to get the Germans off your tail and it was even harder staying low. The instance of you falling into a hidden German foxhole still left you in disbelief and in shock. You luckily weren’t hurt and most of the injuries you sustained were minor and didn’t need any serious maintenance.

The forest was a maze; it was a wonder that you managed to make it out. But at least you’d die of hypothermia or starvation instead of a bullet wound. Either way, you still had to find Easy.

It’d felt so long since you were separated from them in Bastogne— waking up trapped in somebody else’s foxhole and only getting out to see that all of them were gone.

Desperate times call for desperate measures, and you took a coat from a German you killed a few days ago. As much as it disgusted you that you were wearing one of your enemy’s clothes, it did keep you warm. So you sucked it up and put it over the coat you wore since you came into this icy hellscape.

You took shelter in the destroyed towns nearby, and you knew you’d find them soon. It’s been so long already and knowing them they were probably already done with their mission in Foy. From what you could remember, Haguenau was the next spot. Based on the map you stole a long time ago, you were pretty darn close.  

If the cold wasn’t going to drive you mad then this certainly will. It wasn’t long before the sun set and night fell over the destroyed town. After finding shelter in a broken house, you immediately went to work on a small fire on the floor. The tiny pile of branches you gathered lit up into flames and a long sigh of exasperation fell from your lips.

“Holy shit— Finally…”

You brought your numb hands close to the fire and for once you actually felt warm. Maybe this time you wouldn’t have to put this fire out, maybe this time you can finally fall asleep for more than 3 hours. You continued to hold your hands close to the flames as you looked around your surroundings, flinching at every sound.

Sleep caught up to you though and you could ever so slightly feel the heavy lids of your eyes drooping, your cumbersome body slumped down against the long and your cold fingers gripped onto the fabric of your coat. You huddled closer into the little warmth that you have and your tense body relaxed.

Though where you lied was all but comfortable you couldn’t help your eyes from closing and your whole body from succumbing into sleep.

Not even a few hours later, your tired eyes open up and get used to the building around you. It wasn’t even morning, and the crack of dawn was just peeking around the corner. You let out a few grumbles into the silence and you huff, white puffs of air forming in the cold air.

The floorboards creaked as you stood up before centering yourself on the hardwood floor beneath you. The small fire was long extinguished and the burnt remains stayed on the floor. Your feet ached as if trying to get you back to settle down, even for just a few moments.

Overwhelming urges to go back to the broken down house bounced to and fro in your mind. But the strong desire to once again lay your eyes upon the company which you called family swiftly took over. A new surge of motivation flourished through you and the numbing ache you felt was soon nothing but washed out.

The cold air was just as overbearing and the chattering of your teeth was the only thing that your ears could pick up. It was slightly dark, and the sun just barely peaked over the horizon, and you longed for its rays to shine upon your frigid form. You could only long for so much though, so you chucked the thought away and carried on.

Large destroyed buildings loomed over you, and the soon to be bright sky made everything seem ominous. You brought your shivering arms to wrap around yourself, trying to take in as much warmth your cold body could offer.

Everything had a purpose in life, but you still don’t understand why life decided to fuck you up this much.

All you wanted to be back in Eugene’s arms, to hear his comforting voice, and to run your hands through his dark hair once more. You’ll do it. For him you’ll make it. Just for him to take you up in his embrace. That thought was more than enough to push you. You were so, so close. You could make it. You knew you could.

Each step was worth it and before you knew it the sun rose, the bright rays just peeking ever so slightly beyond the dead trees. This might be the only time that you’re the only one moving in the vicinity. If it weren’t for you chattering your teeth and not feeling anything in your body, this walk might’ve actually been calming.

If you planned correctly and only took a few breaks that are about 2 hours maximum, you could make it to Haguenau in the afternoon. You’ll finally see the boys and be reunited with Easy after being separated from them for more than a week. The thought filled you with warmth no coat or sun could ever give you.

But fucking damn the snow. It made everything harder than it needed to be. It was only two miles but yet the snow made it seem like 200. Hours went by and you took as little breaks as possible. Laying down on the snow with your back on a tree as you tried to reclaim your lost breath.

Things were serene almost. And by that you meant at least you weren’t getting shot at and trees weren’t exploding all around you.

Then you saw it— the ever so faint outline of what looked to be a small town. This was it, you thought. It was right there, just out of your reach. Your slow steps from before grew more frantic as you neared the grey looking town. You shrugged off your coat, you knew they would start blasting if they thought you were a German soldier.

The coat dropped limply to the snowy floor and your (E/C) picked up a few figures along the edge. It was so blurry, why was it so fucking blurry?

Shivering and huffing, you whispered words of encouragement to yourself, “Come on, come on. You’re almost there... You can make it...”

The two men you saw raised up their rifles to take aim at you, yet you couldn’t bring the strength to raise the icicles you called arms. Instead you kept shuffling forward. Your movement was sluggish and your coordination wasn’t the best at the moment, but you plowed on.

The figures held their ground and with each passing second, the cold wasn’t bothering you— it was the fear that you’ll get shot by your own friends.

Shoving the thought away, you instead focused on the town— no matter how blurry it was. Your knees and legs almost gave out beneath you, yet you somehow still found the willpower to hold yourself up. The soldiers gave each other a look as their eyes focused on your form.

Babe’s breath hitched as he recognized you. He immediately lowered down his weapon and threw his fellow paratrooper a wide-eyed look.

Your knees and legs almost gave out beneath you, yet you somehow still found the strength to hold yourself up. The soldiers gave each other a look as their eyes focused on your form.

Babe’s breath hitched as he recognized you. He immediately lowered down his weapon and threw his fellow paratrooper a wide-eyed look.

“Jesus Christ, lower your fucking gun, Lieb— It’s (Y/N)... It’s (Y/N)!” Heffron yelled vehemently into his friend’s ear.

Liebgott also dropped his gun, he squinted his eyes at you and his jaw grew slack. He was left in shock and all sorts of emotions shone throughout his face in the matter of mere seconds. A look was shared between the two men. After a brief moment of standing still to take the moment in, they broke out into a sprint.

Your body collapsed into them as they reached you, their two arms hoisting you up as you could only pick out a few words. (E/C) eyes grew weary and tired, and you simply let fatigue take over your being.

Liebgott and Babe grew increasingly worried and it wasn’t long before they panicked. They shook you hard and your chin was tilted up to meet their faces.

“She’s freezing—”

“Yeah no shit, Babe. C’mon we need to get her back into town and get her to Roe—”

Everything was fading but your chapped lips stretched into a faint grin. You could faintly see their faces, and you have never been any happier to see a person this much. Babe’s hand cradled your head as they slowly brought you up. Liebgott carried your limp body and brought one of your arms to hang over his neck.

The two men hurried so fast into the town and you couldn’t pick up anything other than fragments of sentences. Your eyes drooped and your teeth chattered unbelievably hard. Your head was pounding and everything was just a cacophony of various sounds, nothing made sense.

“She— passing out—”

“—here the— is Roe— Bring h— over here—”

Roe… You recognized that name. Genie, your Genie— Everything was such a blur, it was all chaos in your mind. But you’re here, and you’ll get to meet Eugene after how long. It was worth the wait, you’re going to finally see him.

Whatever was going on didn’t matter anymore and you tuned out the distant shouts and ruckus. Your eyes fluttered shut and your expression was nothing but content, after all, you had a certain Cajun man in your mind. The whole world went black and you inevitably passed out in the arms of Liebgott.

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

Everyone in Haguenau was utterly shocked when they caught wind of what happened. Others were in glee, some relieved and happy, but the majority was shrouded with a thick cloud of doubt and disbelief.

Questions were thrown left and right but no one could find a definite answer. All words that were about to escape were cut short at what was to come.

Rumors were turned into facts and all who rejected the idea could only gawk at the sight. Multiple eyes rake over the two men frantically yelling and running like their lives depended on it. But their focus was immediately averted to you— the weak soldier in the arms of Lieb.

It was hectic and no one knew what to do next, but the shouts of the fiery-headed man brought them out of their daze.

Desperate cries for the medic rang for a few moments and then after what felt like an eternity, the Cajun man arrived. It’s an understatement to say that his heart stopped as soon as his eyes ran over your unconscious form.

Caught frozen in the moment it was only when Martin practically shoved him into your direction did he start moving.

Nodding stiffly with his cerulean eyes blown wide open, almost everyone in the area rushed to the building where all of Roe’s supplies laid. The door busted upon and could’ve flown off it’s rusty hinges at that point, but everyone’s nerves were wrecked to oblivion.

The shuffling and the jagged huffs of air you released filled the air. They laid you on the wooden table in the center of the room, gingerly plopping your body on the rough surface.

Cold. You were so cold and barely hanging onto an inch of your life… Eugene felt himself grow more rushed and panicked with every move he took, yet he still proceeded each step with the precision and stability any medic wished they had.

He remembered to treat you with the utmost care and gentleness and carefully shrugged off your soddy coat. Removing his own, he dressed you his dry and warmer coat.

“Blankets,” Eugene uttered while looking into Lipton’s eyes

Lipton was too busy fretting over your being and when Eugene said the word, and he couldn’t make out a word. “Roe, what?”

“Sir, just give me blankets, please,” the medic practically keened.

The First Sergeant let out a hum of acknowledgement before rushing off to God-knows-where to get the blankets Eugene so desperately and quietly pleaded for. As soon as Lipton disappeared behind a corner, all of Eugene’s attention was on you.

Requesting hot water, Roe immediately soaked a towel in it. Removing excess moisture before letting it cool down for a few moments, he placed the warm towel on your neck. He poured out all his medical knowledge into action, he needed to keep you alive. Eugene needed to.

He couldn’t lose you again, he wouldn’t allow it.

His mind processed so many things, like how you suddenly appeared after everyone thought you… Thought you died. Appearing out of nowhere, collapsing, and in severe need of warmth. Nonetheless, you were alive and breathing. You were back and now all his answers have been answered.

With the heavy weight lifting from his chest, a new weight arrived and took its place. Right now, all he needed to do was to get blood circulating through your body and to keep you warm.

He just hopes he can deal with the emotions that would later come, and he most definitely hopes that you’ll make it out of this just alright.

“Roe. The blankets,” Lipton returned and in his arms were a heaping pile of blankets which would be more than okay.

“Thank you, Sergeant,” Eugene thanked curtly as he took the heavy pile off his hands and placed them on the cold stone floor.

“Of course, Eugene,” while Lip had addressed him, his eyes were still glued at your shut eyes. The fatherly compassion in his face made Eugene feel warm for just a bit before taking a glance at your serene expression.

Eugene’s hands grabbed about four and laid them across your form, and he took two more to make a makeshift pillow. Tenderly raising up your head, he placed it under and let out a sigh in relief as he finished treating you. The soft rise of your chest reassured him that you were sleeping well, the frigid temperatures of your skin subsiding and returning to normal.

You’d be alright, you just needed to rest and wake up and Eugene couldn’t wait more for that moment to arrive. Loosely dropping the blanket he held tightly in his fist, Eugene made his way over to you. Everyone had crowded around the table but made space back when Roe told them to make room.

Everyone had crowded around the table but made space back when Roe told them to make room. They mimicked his actions, and stepped closer like before. They were all so nervous, but they all held caring and content looks in their eyes.

As time passed, more and more of the men left the building to go to their bunks. But every time they left, they made sure to spare you one last glance before retreating into the afternoon.

Soon enough it was only him, Babe, Lipton, Speirs, and Winters left in the building— the commanding officers talking amongst themselves while throwing concerned glances at you. Heffron opted to stay on the other side of the table, biting nervously at his fingernails.

“(Y/N) will wake up soon, right?” Heffron questioned, his voice quavering ever so slightly and Eugene turned his eyes to him.

Babe’s eyes were so filled with hope that Eugene couldn’t help but agree too— his own orbs begging for everything to be alright.

Everyone in the room kept watch for as long as they could, but it was only so soon that they had to attend to their own duties. Lipton definitely made sure to give words of encouragement and comfort to the shaken medic and soon he left with Winters and Speirs, the latter offering a stable nod of the head whilst leaving.

“Don’t worry Roe, (Y/N)... (Y/N) will be alright, she’s strong. (Y/N)’s stronger than anyone I know.”

“You… You think so?” The Cajun man carefully began as his dexterous hands took off his helmet to run his fingers through them.

“I know so.”

Lipton placed his glove-laden hand on Roe’s shoulder, the gesture made the tension in his body lessen by just a bit. He gave a salute which Eugene returned and he wistfully watched his company return to their prior business.

With just the two of you left in the building, Eugene let his walls go down and he collapsed on a nearby chair. Both of his hands flashed up to sink themselves deep in his ebony hair, the sniffling of his nose overtaking the silence. It’d been so long since he last cried… It’d been even longer since he saw you…

The salty tears blurred his vision but he hastily rubbed them away, the rough fabric taking them off and clearing his sight.

He dragged the wooden chair closer to you and his hands reached out hesitantly to caress your face. Eugene delicately moved stray strands of your hair away from your face and the back of his hand rested on your forehead to check your temperature.

A melancholy look was glazed over his gray-blue eyes and he slowly retracted his hand away from your forehead. Now that the dust had settled, the realization hit him, and with that came the many thoughts.

You were alive, that was obvious enough, but he couldn’t over the fact that you were. Eugene felt immensely relieved that you were, he wouldn’t be able to live if you weren’t. But seeing you limp in Liebgott’s arms left him frozen as if he was being taken back to your abrupt appearance just about two hours ago.

Eugene’s pale hand found its way on your warm cheek, with you subconsciously nuzzling yourself into the palm of his hand— the action making him weak. You had always used to do that and a tender fondness washed over his once tense features.

All in all, he was completely overjoyed that you were here— even if you weren’t conscious, you were still here. If Eugene’s mind wasn’t keeping him busy, he spent his time checking up and taking care of you.

“I just… You’re back..” Eugene drawled out, even if he knew you couldn’t hear what he was saying. Maybe it was better that way…

He had to choke back tears as he continued, emotion pouring out with every word, “I missed you— I missed you a lot actually.”

Even without anyone listening, Eugene acted like there was— with no one there to judge him, he spoke with utmost passion. It had been long subdued and held back, and in those short moments Eugene had spoken more than he ever had in the past days. His fists were aching from how hard they were clench, appearing ghostly white as he continued spouting heartfelt words from his lips.

“I love you, (Y/N). I was so scared that I lost you, I love you so much, mon ange…” Eugene held your still hand, and there you remained serenely resting.

The words hung in the air, dissipating into nothing as seconds passed by. His term of endearment used to feel heavy on his mouth whenever he had said it, but now at this time— it felt right, it fit.

Eugene’s nerves were utterly wrecked, but your presence was the best thing that has ever happened to him. Two weeks, two weeks since Eugene thought he lost you in Bastogne. But he stopped worrying because all of his prayers were answered.

With his back to the old wooden chair, he observed the light pouring out from the dusty windows— almost golden even though it was a bit too early in the afternoon for it. Eugene felt tumultuous and he tried his hardest to come to terms with today’s events. Tilting his head down he folded his hands and shut his eyelids. With a final look to your passed-out figure, he let out an affectionate smile.

It wasn’t long before Eugene too fell into unconsciousness— his mind being transported to dreamland with you in his head.

“I love you, mon ange,” he mumbled quietly, just hoping you could hear him even in your state.

The soft smile on Eugene’s face was prominent then.

----------

The early afternoon light turned dark, the light—even filled with smoke—shone its pinkish and golden hues through the grimy windows of the brick buildings. It wasn’t long until the evening colors turned into ones of navy blue and soon dark cobalt, the moon shining dimly in the sky. Eugene was still passed out, arms crossed and as still as he could be.

No one decided to bother the medic, and anyone who decided to enter the building anyway decided to do so quietly. A menagerie of people checked up on you and Eugene through the hours, but nonetheless people were sparse. With no patrols, wounded, or future assignments, Eugene could stay in that building for as long he wanted to.

His helmet rested idle next to his chair, and the room looked like a moment frozen in time.

The lantern casted a yellow glow throughout the space, shadows playing on the medic’s face and the edge of the room. And that was where you found yourself, wrapped in blankets, in an unknown rickety building. Nonetheless you were warm and you were thankful for that.

Yet you still felt fuzzy, like static was making a home in your brain. You softly let out a groan, your shoulders sore and your skin tingling.

“Shit… My head…” you brought a shaky hand to your temples and the pile of blankets fell off your torso and pooled in your lap.

The old wooden table creaked with each movement and you didn’t notice the sleeping figure sitting on the side of you. The corners of the moon could barely be seen from the angle you were in, and your tired digits clenched around the thin fabric that was splayed out in front of you.

You were in… That was right— you were in Haguenau. You made it, saw Babe and Lieb and inevitably passed out. That was all in the morning, it must be. Just how long have you been passed out? It must’ve been half the day.

Your weary (E/C) eyes glanced across the room, taking in your surroundings. With the dim lantern light bathing you, it was quite hard to make out anything. Turning your head slowly left and right you jump out of your skin when you see a body just beside you.

Your eyes widen swiftly, your mouth agape. But looking closer, it wasn’t just anybody. Bringing your palm to your chest to calm your turbulent heartbeat, you gazed at him— to assure yourself that you weren’t hallucinating.

It was Eugene— good God it was Eugene.

Gathering your thoughts, you leaned forward, slightly wincing at the slightly numb and uncomfortable feeling of your abdomen and legs. Your eyes held want and need, you never wanted someone so badly. A strong urge to just throw away the regard of your own safety and bounce into his arms was tempting, but you knew better than to do that.

You’d simply pass out again, and if you were to die right here in this moment, then so be it. One glance at the ebony locks that were lightly tousled, the same ones you loved to run your (S/C) hands through, was enough to make your heart weak.

His closed eyes just radiated like unexplored waters, and even when sleeping he held such a refined grace and elegance.

This must’ve been the longest sleep he’s had in days, and while you had gone through considerably worse these few days, your heart panged at the thought of him not getting enough rest.

“Eugene…?”

It slipped out suddenly, you didn’t even mean to utter anything. But his eyes opened before you could even register the fact that you did speak.

Ever the light sleeper or even borderline insomniac, Eugene bolted up. Stormy blue orbs revealing themselves and his whole upper body staggering up at the sudden noise. While soft, it was clearly abrupt, and so it woke him up immediately.

At first he thought it was one of the boys, maybe one of them telling him to come back to the bunks or something similar. But when his head lurched its direction at the door, no one was there.

Blinking away his grogginess, he saw you. Awake. Right in front of him.

Even though it was you who needed the most rest, you made the first move. Steadily balancing yourself on the table with your legs hanging loosely on the edge, your head tilted and your eyes glassy. Eugene Roe didn’t want to cry, he wanted his first moment with you to be happy.

But tears don’t listen to the silent pleas of broken soldiers. And so they fell on his trousers, wet droplets plopping gently on the fabric.

With a blink on an eye, the moment was cut short by your sudden movements. The flickering of the lamp illuminating your tired face as you plopped from the table with a wince. The patter of your feet as you trekked the small distance which separated you and your lover. The longing in your heart ceased, but even with Eugene there your heart seemed to crave more once again.

Chuckling dryly through his tears, Eugene took off his gloves, “Ain’t this the part where I tell you to keep resting?”

The first thing he says to you and it’s one of his stupid jokes, Gene mentally reprimanded himself but when he saw you smile he didn’t think it was such a bad idea anymore. The first laugh you had in such a long time bubbled in your dry throat, you softly coughing after the act.

Eugene stood up with a concerned look in his eyes, only stopping himself when you held your hand up.

You were the first to break, as you collapsed yourself onto Eugene’s chest as he stood up. Eugene’s tears were long gone, but yours were only starting. You sobbed silently as you clutched his uniform. You grabbed at him fervently, hoping to find leverage.

With your hands running intensely around his body— just wanting to touch any part of him. Any.

It’s been far too long and you just wanted to hug him so tight you couldn’t breathe anymore.

Two weeks may not seem like much, but in war two weeks felt like an eternity. A lot occurred in those two weeks—Eugene Roe broke and snapped and you almost succumbed to Mother Nature. But it was good now— no Germans, no missing lovers, and no more fucking snow. It was almost unbelievable, like a dream.

The absence in your heart has been filled, but you wanted to stay whole for as long as you can— so you held onto him like your life depended on it. With trembling fingers and quavering breath, you feverishly embraced him, and he too returned your hold with as much fervor. You missed him, you missed him too much.

“Welcome back, mon ange...”

“Well,” you gestured to the old building and walls enclosing you both, “This certainly doesn’t look like heaven.”

Gene only lightly smiled, his eyes focusing on your face. He took it in, desperate to keep your figure in his head. He’ll never forgive himself if he doesn’t remember the exact planes in your face for even a moment. You stood there too, dazed. You had only just woken up and yet you were already straining yourself, but for Gene it was worth it.

The comedic and light moment left as quickly as it came, getting washed away by the somber atmosphere like a powerful tidal wave. Eugene was the one who went out to hold you this time, but it was none at all like yours.

His hold was secure and controlled, although you could tell he was practically yearning to hold you intensely like you did with him.

While not the passionate hold you gave him, it held as much love and adoration. Eugene didn’t need words to express his happiness, relief, and sorrow for he was quite literally the human embodiment of ‘actions speak louder than words’.

Everything was so ephemeral, with the blink of an eye it could all vanish. But the love that you held for Eugene said otherwise. Oh you pleaded internally that someone will let this be the lifetime where you spend an eternity with him. That finally this will be the time where you won’t have to worry about no longer having Eugene by your side.

Tears sprang up from your eyes again, tumbling down slowly on your cheeks, “I thought— I thought I was never going to see you again. I… I thought I was going to die Gene, I r-really did, I was so close…”

“I thought so too, but we’re here now.” he wiped your tears away with a swipe, his cold lips pressing kisses on your forehead.

“Wha-what if I didn’t see you, or if I took a wrong turn? And the last thing I would see would just be snow and not you—”

With a soft but firm look on his features, he shook his head as if to say ‘no more’, “(Y/N)... I would walk around for miles to find you if I could.”

You clamped your mouth shut and nodded with each word from his mouth, and you buried your head deeper into his hold. The dank room seemed much brighter with you in his embrace, the whole town seemed to light up in fact.

Everyone has such expectant and hopeful faces and they were immensely glad that you were back with them. Cold as you were then, you still managed to be brighter than the sun. Eugene could honestly go on for hours listing all the beautiful adjectives he could use to describe you.

Eugene held you as if he had no intentions of ever letting you slip from his secure grasp. If there was no tomorrow, he should at least enjoy this sacred moment while it lasts— to forever savor it and reminisce about it when his time comes.

You begged anything to let this fleeting moment last, to forever be one with the one you loved most.

“Never let me go, Genie.”

“I won’t…”

“Please?”

“I love you too much to lose you again...”

With a word or with a sentence, Eugene could make you feel anything. And with that uttered statement, he made you feel at peace. A compassionate look that held a million unspoken words was bestowed upon you, for a fraction of a second you could feel him pressing the faintest of kisses on your lips.  

And for the first time in this chaotic unfolding of events, you felt happy.

----------

Author’s Note: Well here it is, my last fic before I go. But thank you for making it all the way to the end of this long fic, I love y’all so much. I hope y’all will have a good day and I’ll be sendin’ some good vibes 😩💕

[foursideharmony]

The Cat, the Prince, and the Doorway to Imagination (Chapter 6)

Summary: Logan goes for help. It doesn’t go well, but help (?) arrives anyway. Meanwhile, Patton makes a discovery.

Pairings: Platonic/familial LAMP/CALM, Platonic/familial DLAMPR

Content Warnings: There are some pretty hairy descriptions of violence in this chapter--brief, but potentially vivid. Also, Remus is finally involved, so watch out for that.

Word Count: 4,445

Read on AO3: here

People often underestimate how fast bears can run. They're so bulky, and most of the time are content to lumber along in an unhurried fashion. The best way to stop underestimating them is surely to be chased by one—anyone who experiences that will remember bears as the speedy animals that they actually are for however long the rest of their life might be.

The second-best way, though, might just be to ride one at a full gallop over miles of Narnian countryside.

Logan wondered just how fast they were going—he estimated between 35 and 40 kilometers per hour. With visual cues, he could have pinpointed their average speed more precisely, but he was clinging to Stoutpaws's back with his head down to minimize air resistance and his eyes closed to keep the freezing wind out of them. The bear's fur was unpleasantly coarse and smelled of a cloying mixture of dirt, honey, and wild animal, but Logan pushed all that to the back of his mind. This was necessary.

It was hours before they paused, and then only so Stoutpaws could shuffle to the top of a small bluff and confirm their destination. “That wood there,” he said, pointing with one paw. “Lantern Waste. That's where you came from, right, sir?”

“If the word 'Lantern' in the name refers to an antique lamppost stationed in the woods and inexplicably in operation, then yes. I believe the door we came through is just beyond it.”

“You use a lot of big words, don't you, sir?”

“I value precision in communication.”

They continued. Another hour brought them to the edge of Lantern Waste, and Stoutpaws slowed and let Logan dismount so that they could navigate more carefully. “Thus far, I do not recognize any specific landmarks,” the Logical Side noted after a time. “But it occurs to me that the lamppost is a unique feature in this forest, composed primarily of cast iron in contrast to the natural wood and stone that surrounds us. And I am given to understand that bears have an exceptionally keen olfactory sense. Perhaps you could locate it by scent?”

“I can certainly try, sir.” Stoutpaws reared up on his hind paws and turned his head from side to side with great nostril-flaring sniffs.

“As long as we are conversing, I would like to mention that there is no need to address me with an honorific. If you wish, you may call me by my name: Logan.”

“Oh no, sir, I couldn't do that. You're to be King, after all. And a fine one you'll make with your careful way of speaking, if I do say so myself.”

Logan found that he had no response to that. He recalled that the original book ended with the four children being crowned as monarchs of Narnia, but he couldn't say the prospect appealed to him. Neither did it pall, however. Still, he was pretty sure Stoutpaws had just complimented him, so he offered a nod of appreciation when he next met the beast's eye.

“No iron yet,” Stoutpaws was saying, “but I think the wind is against me. And there's something else...” He awkwardly pivoted on his paws, smelling to the northeast. “Hang on, that's the scent of reindeer! And lacquered wood! It's a sleigh! It's him—the White Warlock! He's after us!” He dropped back down to all fours and began pacing in a tight circle. “What shall we do, sir?”

“Let me up,” said Logan. “Head deeper into the wood and keep trying to smell out the lamppost.”

“I can't outpace the Warlock's sleigh!”

“Do your best, then, to buy us some time, and I'll work out a plan in the meantime.”

“Yes, sir!”

Stoutpaws took off at a dead gallop through the wood. They hadn't gone far when his nostrils flared wide and he declared, “I smell iron! ( puff, puff ) At least we're heading ( puff ) the right way!”

But just as they came within sight of the incongruous fixture, they began to hear, from somewhere behind them, the jingle of sleigh harness. “Oh, sir, he's coming ! He'll catch us for sure!”

Logan found himself wincing at the young bear's plaintive tone. “Let me down here.” Stoutpaws skidded to a halt and Logan dismounted once again. The sound of the sleigh was not as close as they had feared; Roman must have had to slow down among the trees. “I'll make it the rest of the way to the wardrobe on my own. You find a place to hide, and if anything should go wrong...please return to the others and let them know.”

“Nothing doing, sir! I-I promised to protect you with my life!”

“The best way for you to protect any of us right now is with information. Remember that, Stoutpaws. Knowledge is far more precious than strength or speed or even magic. Get yourself behind cover. Protect what you know.”

Stoutpaws's eyes were wide under his ears, half-flattened with fear. “Yes, sir,” he said meekly, before loping away toward denser brush. Logan stooped to pick up a pebble as the sound of the sleigh drew nearer and turned to sprint toward the lamppost just as it broke through the closest layer of trees and he heard Roman's bark of triumph.

Logan's turn of speed surprised even him, but he supposed it was only to be expected with the combination of adrenaline and fresh, unpolluted air. He had nothing on a reindeer-drawn sleigh, however, and with the grove of the wardrobe mere yards away, he felt a whiff of animal breath on the back of his head. In the next instant, he hurled the pebble as hard as he could into the grove and flung himself to one side in order to avoid being run down, losing his coat in the process. He landed hard, half-winded, the chill of the snow biting into his suddenly unprotected forearms, and wasn't able to pick himself up as quickly as he liked. He had only managed to raise himself up to his knees before Roman stood over him, looking every bit as menacing as he had that morning.

“I would have thought Virgil would be the one to try and escape. Did you really think I'd let any of you just leave?”

“Roman,” Logan panted, “this is highly uncharacteristic behavior for you. I would adv—”

“Spare me, Pointdexter, you're not my guidance counselor!” He reached out, and Logan found his chin forcibly tipped up by the end of what seemed to be an ornately carved icicle. “What was that you threw just then, Logan?”

Logan met his gaze with rock-steadiness. “A message.”

Roman's eyes widened and he turned to shout at his Dwarf attendant. “Hurry up! Get in there and intercept it!”

“Yes, Your Majesty!”

Roman watched him scamper off before turning back to Logan. “It must suck to get so close to your goal and then fail at the last minute.”

Now that it was just the two of them, Logan noted, Roman had reverted to a more colloquial mode of speech. He carefully said nothing, balanced precariously between the desire to keep Roman talking and perhaps obtain clues to his precise mental state and how it had come about...and the need to avoid angering him further.

“Well? Don't you have anything to say?”

So much for remaining quiet... “I regret this course of events.”

“Funnily enough, I don't. Strike a pose, nerd.” Roman raised the icicle over his head, and Logan realized, just too late to defend himself, that it was actually a magic wand. He reflexively cringed away, taking whatever small comfort he could from the fact that he had succeeded at every part of his plan that was under his direct control...

  Patton decided to go for a walk. He'd had no luck at all cheering the Narnians up—if anything, their sadness was piling up on him, worsening his own—and he had reached the point where it was either get some fresh air and solitude, or have a breakdown in front of everyone.

Virgil insisted upon making sure it was safe first. They sent out a Talking Dog called Scuffer and a Raven by the name of Sallowpad out to scout the area by land and air, respectively, and make sure none of the enemy were nearby. Then one of the Fauns loaned Patton his pipes, so that he could blow an alert in case of any surprises. Thus equipped, Patton bundled into his fur coat and scrambled out of the shelter just ahead of the tears that were threatening to fall. The cold, clean air helped him gulp them back for the time being, and once he got farther from the camp, farther from all those forlorn faces and despondent voices, the space under the trees, with only his own quietly crunching footsteps and misty breaths for companions, helped to dissipate the horrid feelings.

Everything was going wrong. He couldn't deny that. The story wasn't going the way it should, not at all, and he and Virgil and Logan weren't familiar enough with it to figure out what the problem was and nudge it back on track, and he'd tried talking to the Narnians about the White Witch but their responses were always about the White Warlock as if whatever was going on with Roman had overwritten her, and...and...and...

And if Patton understood the situation with the Dryads correctly, Roman had just ordered someone killed in cold blood. She was just a figment of the Imagination, but it was still a cruel, vicious, tyrannical act! He just couldn't wrap his mind around the idea of Roman, the noble fairy tale prince, doing something like that. But he knew he had to fix it, but how could he, when he couldn't figure out how it had come about?

How could he, when he couldn't even inject a little cheer into a ragtag group of talking animals and fantasy creatures?

He came to a small clearing—well, more of a space between large trunks. The branches of the trees arched overhead, nearly meeting in the middle, so that in the summer, with everything in full leaf, the ground beneath would be too shaded to let anything other than ferns and moss grow. Right now, of course, there was nothing but a thick layer of snow covering a slightly thinner layer of dead leaves...except in one spot, where there was a patch of sun that seemed to have built up just enough warmth to let the snow melt and reveal the musty earth.

And sitting in that patch of sun was a cat.

Despite everything, Patton almost laughed out loud—probably the only outdoor spot in all of Narnia that was even a little warm, and a cat had found it. The stifled laugh came out as more of a snort, and the cat—which had been lying down in a semi-circle with its back to him—twisted its head to see where the noise had come from. “Hiya, kitty,” Patton said shyly. “I didn't mean to bother you.”

The cat stood up, yawned, stretched, and sat. Now facing Patton, it looked up at him with intensely golden eyes. It was a handsome creature, with long, tawny-colored hair that didn't seem to have picked up any mats or burrs.

“I sure wish I could pet you,” Patton went on. “I think I could use some furry snuggles right now, but I'm afraid you'd set off my allergies.”

The cat hopped to its feet and walked up to the Moral Side, turning its body sideways as it approached. It stopped about a foot shy of making contact with his legs and gazed up at him, as if asking permission. “Well...” Patton said, “...I guess a minute or two can't hurt. If anyone asks I can blame my symptoms on the cold air.” He stooped and held out his hand, and the cat rammed itself against his legs before half-rearing up to rub its head against his outstretched knuckles. “Heh, listen to me, planning to tell a fib. I must be hanging out with Janus too much. Wow, you sure are friendly, aren't you? Do you talk at all? No? I guess even here, not everything can talk.”

He slouched until he was sitting with his back against one of the trees and shifted from letting the cat rub his hand to actively running his fingers through the fur of its head. “I just don't want Virgil to think I'm not being careful. I don't think I could stand disappointing anyone else today, you know?” He sniffed a few times and couldn't tell whether it was hay fever or his emotions starting to spill over again. “I don't understand what's happening , kitty. One of my best friends is acting like the bad guy! And he's always been so idealistic! He hates evil! What could possibly make someone do a one-eighty like that?”

He leaned his head back against the tree trunk and closed his eyes. The sun must have been hitting the wood too, because it felt incongruously warm against his scalp. He continued to card his fingers through the cat's thick fur as fat tears finally began to leak from between his eyelids. Not hay fever, then. He didn't bother holding them back anymore. No one was around to be annoyed or to make a fuss over poor, sensitive, fragile Patton. It was just him and this startlingly affectionate feral cat. For a few minutes, he let the tears flow. They didn't freeze on his face—it wasn't quite that cold—so that was all right. They did make his cheeks burn a little from the salt and the chill of evaporation, but that was all part of the cleansing process. There was no better short-term therapy for icky feelings than a good cry.

The faucet gradually shut itself off. He suddenly envisioned Roman, the White Warlock, with his too-pale coloration and his huge ermine train and his icy crown with that monster diamond on it and his retinue of horror creatures. The image was unusually clear in his mind (Patton's imagination had always worked more based on how things made him feel, not how they looked), almost as if it were a painting that he could scrutinize at his leisure. For some reason, his attention kept getting drawn back to that diamond. Patton grew very pensive. If the diamond was drawing his notice, then maybe his gut had picked up on something important about it, and Patton was not in the habit of ignoring his gut. Not when it craved chocolate chip cookies, and not in situations like this.

He had to file the thought away for later, because the cat was suddenly pawing at his leg. “What is it, buddy? Are we done with pets?”

The cat ran a short distance away, stopped, and looked back over its shoulder at him, blinking meaningfully.

“You want me to follow you? Okay, gimme a sec to get up.” He braced against the tree and heaved himself to his feet, then let the cat lead him out of the clearing.

(He completely failed to notice that the snow dwindled away under its paws, only to return as it passed.)

He followed his guide for perhaps fifteen or twenty minutes, to a small grove of evergreens, like a forgotten Christmas tree farm. He hadn't know what to expect, but he was surprised anyway by the sight of none other than Ailim, kneeling near the center of the grove, her posture slumped. Directly in front of her was the stump of a pine tree that had been sawn off about two feet above the ground. The cut looked quite fresh, and—oh. Oh. Oh...heck.

“Ailim?” he said.

“Oh!” she responded, startled. “It's Patton, isn't it? What are you doing here?”

“My new fuzzy friend brought me.”

She just looked perplexed. “What friend?”

Patton looked around, but the cat was suddenly nowhere to be seen. “Well, he was here...I guess he led me here for a reason.”

“I apologize for appearing in this unseemly state.”

“No, please don't! You have every right to be out of sorts! Do you...maybe...want to talk about it?”

She looked downcast again. “There is little enough to talk about. The Hags divined the whereabouts of Muricata's tree and the party dragged us both here. She could barely keep her feet, so they made me hold her up. They used a saw. I felt her agony as her trunk was gouged apart.”

Patton flinched. His gorge rose slightly.

“When the tree fell, I felt the life leave her. Then she vanished from my arms. My sister...she is gone from the world. It is as if she had never sprouted.”

Patton rushed forward, shrugged out of his coat, and draped it over the miserable Dryad. She wasn't crying, but she evidently had been earlier; twin trails of hardened yellow resin ran from her eyes down to her chin. “I'm so sorry,” he murmured. Beyond that, he was at a loss. He wanted to promise her to make it better, but...her sister was gone . Murdered. Cut down in her prime (literally).

They hadn't even been neat about it. The stump was scarred with a shallow cut well below where it had eventually been felled. Patton ran his fingers over it, his heart squeezing in vicarious anguish. It seemed they had tortured Muricata first...but Ailim hadn't mentioned torture in her brief description of the execution.

As if she could tell what he was thinking, she said, “They started there, but the Warlock told them to do it higher up instead. I don't know why.”

Patton's heart was suddenly hammering against his ribs. This felt important . What was he looking for? What was the difference between the lower cut and the upper one, that Roman would make that call? Did he just want a convenient place to sit down in the forest? No, that was silly. Patton wished he were smart like Logan so he could figure out this sort of thing. He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them again they refocused of their own accord at the farther edge of the cut stump, where there was a sprig of greenery...

Patton walked around and peered closely at a few sprouts of fresh green needles growing directly out of the side of the trunk, as happens on pine trees. “Um...Ailim?,” he said, his voice wobbling with uncertainty, “I don't know if this helps at all, but this tree isn't totally dead. They left a growing part.”

“What?” Ailim said breathlessly, letting the coat fall from her shoulders as she sprang up. She leaned over the stump without touching it, peering at the needles. “You speak the truth. There is life left in the tree; it may yet regrow.” She gathered an armload of snow from the forest floor and spread it over the top of the stump. “In the meantime, this will protect it.”

“Does that mean your sister would come back?”

“I cannot say. The tree might acquire a new spirit, or Muricata might emerge again but without her previous memories. Or it might remain an unawakened tree, alive but with no sentient soul. But it seems that for all his wickedness, the White Warlock chose to leave this door open.”

“Yeah...” Patton said. “He made sure they cut above the growth. And he let you go. Ailim, will you come back to the camp with me? Everyone will be glad to see you're okay, and I think we should all sit down and try to figure out what it means that Roman did this. My head's starting to hurt from trying to solve these puzzles on my own.”

“Nevertheless,” said Ailim, fetching Patton's coat and offering it back to him, “you spotted this sign. You have given me a measure of hope, however slim. Thank you, Patton.”

And as they started back toward the Hill of the Stone Table, Patton began to feel like a few things were going right after all.

Halfway there, it suddenly occurred to him that the cat hadn't set off his allergies in the slightest.

Huh. That was weird.

Anything can happen in the Mindscape. Expect, as they say, the unexpected.

But Janus was of the opinion that there was no excuse for him to be walking along the upstairs hallway simply minding Thomas's business and suddenly get jumped out of nowhere. One instant everything was normal, the next he was flat on his back, struggling to hold a knife away from his face while the wielder of the knife, who had bulbous features and a shocking quantity of beard, was snarling at him. He caught something about a message and a warlock, but his attacker seemed to have worked himself up into a lather long before encountering Janus and was, in the main, unintelligible.

This left Janus with no clue what the fellow wanted, and when you don't know what someone wants you can't give it to them (or convince them that you've given it to them and pocket the difference) and get them to stop trying to stick a knife in your eye. Add to that the fact that he'd been completely unprepared for this, and that his attacker was noticeably stronger than himself, and Janus was well and truly up [Censored for indelicate language] Creek, sans paddle.

If there was one thing he hated, it was not being in quiet control of a situation. If there was one thing he utterly despised, it was having to adapt on the fly.

Well, if anyone in the Mindscape knew how to cope with [Censored] Creek...besides, this was probably his fault anyway.

“REMUSSSSSS!!!” Janus hissed, even though he was trying not to. High stress had that effect on him.

He heard, in the following order: rapidly approaching footsteps, “What's u—WOW!”, a sickening crunch as Remus's morningstar made contact, and the heavy thump of a body hitting the wall. Then Janus was free. He sat up to take stock.

His attacker was definitely dead, given the shape of his head, and he was a lot shorter than Janus would have assumed given his strength—a fantasy dwarf, then. That was all he was able to discern before the being evaporated into sparkling motes of light that dissipated: proof positive that he had been a figment. “Mind explaining what that was all about, Your Disgrace?” he said.

Remus was pouting at his weapon, probably because the victim's blood had also vanished. “Your guess is as good as mine, my favorite phallic symbol. Must have been one of my brother's.”

That gave Janus pause. He'd assumed, once Roman barged in on the morning's assemblage and then the entire cadre vanished for the day, that he had taken them on a jaunt in the Imagination...but to let a mayhem-oriented figment out unsupervised? That suggested...difficulties. And when he considered the dwarf's vague reference to a message...hm.

“Purely in the interest of maintaining order in this psyche,” he said in the most chipper tone he could manage, “I am going to get to the bottom of this.” He stood up, dusted himself off, and headed for Roman's room.

Remus, unsurprisingly, was right behind him. “Sounds like a blast! There's always plenty to maim when Roman gets into adventure mode! I'm coming too!”

“I'd be simply delighted to have your company,” said Janus. Remus, bless him, either missed the sarcasm or didn't care.

Roman's room was a mess, which was nothing out of the ordinary. This mess appeared to be the result of a deliberate ransacking, which was. Presumably the dwarf was the culprit; perhaps he'd been looking for the “message.”

The doorway to the Imagination, which had taken the form of a large wooden double-doored cupboard, stood wide open. One door actually hung askew from a single hinge, befitting the overall atmosphere of the room. Janus summoned his crook as a precaution before stepping inside.

About a minute later, he was already having regrets. Roman had made some sort of winter wonderland, and Janus's semi-reptilian biology was already starting to protest being made to function in the low temperatures. He turned up his collar, pulled down his hat, and tucked his free hand into his capelet, but he was going to have to find more layers somewhere. Maybe he could get Remus to create him a nice wool coat. Or some longjohns. (Although he was hesitant to ask, as he wouldn't put it past the Duke to instead grant him a yak pelt so fresh that it was still bleeding.)

“Hey, look, someone made an ice sculpture of the buzzkill!”

Janus looked up from his ruminations. Remus had indeed discovered a life-sized, transparent statue of Logan, but upon closer inspection, it proved to be not ice but rock crystal (silicon dioxide, as Logan himself would specify). The Logical Side was depicted kneeling, leaning back on one hand and flinging the other one up and out as if in self-defense. His expression was decidedly alarmed, and taken as a whole, the presentation made Janus distinctly uneasy. And the more he inspected the sculpture, the more that feeling grew. The thing was unreasonably detailed. He could make out the knit texture of his polo shirt and individual strands of hair...and because it was transparent, he could see that the carving went layers deep—Logan's necktie ran completely around underneath his shirt collar, and his eyes were engraved behind the lenses of his glasses.

“Welp!” Remus was saying, raising his morningstar. “Smashy smashy!”

The horrible truth dawned on Janus just in time. He lashed out with his crook to snag Remus's ankle and pull him off-balance before he could bring the weapon down.

“Awwwww! What did you do that for, J-Anus?”

Janus found himself trembling, and no longer could he blame it entirely on the cold. “Speaking purely as a hypothetical,” he said with an embarrassing creak in his voice, “what if that weren't, by the strictest definition, a sculpture?”

Remus tilted his head in confusion. “Well, what else would it...” His kohl-rimmed eyes widened in some chaotic hybrid of shock and glee. “Nooo! You mean someone's gone and put the ol' Medusa whammy on Geekboy?”

“Obviously.” Janus looked around the snowy forest, wary of everything. “I think,” he said, choosing his words with the utmost of care, because they were the truth, “that there is a great deal of trouble afoot here.”

[buckleyirondad]

8. Where Did Everybody Go? “Don’t Say Goodbye”

Natasha's final wish, is granted, by the universe - it allows Tony, to live, following his sacrifice - he gets the one thing he never thought he'd have, a normal life - from, getting to see his daughter, grow up, all the way, to witnessing Peter and Michelle on their wedding day.

AO3 Link

The energy of the gauntlet channeled through Tony’s arm and sent shockwaves, down his spine.

It was all too much at once.

It felt like he was being torn apart, limb by limb, experiencing every injury he’d ever endured, since the start of time, simultaneously.

He lifted his arm, presenting the stones, to his enemy, “And I—” He cried out, “…Am Iron-Man.”

He brought his fingers together and snapped.

He was welcomed by a blinding, white light, which was ironic, considering all the fairy tales and visions that were recorded, about death.

The pain dissipated, and suddenly, all he could feel, was comfort, like he was enveloped by it.

The light shifted, from white, and a welcoming orange.

He blinked, clearing his vision.

He looked around, quickly realizing, that he was no longer standing, on the battleground.

He wasn’t somewhere new.

The skies and ground stretched on, for miles, perhaps for infinity. They never met, it was a continuous spiral of orange.

It was a new realm, but Tony had seen it before. The space was his old house, well part of it. The gym room to be specific, the boxing ring, was right beside him.

He ducked his head, “What the hell?”

“Hey, Tony,” A voice, he knew all-too-well, called out, “Did you miss me?”

He spun, on his heel.

Natasha was standing, a few paces away, wearing a smile, from ear-to-ear, “You’re an idiot.” She moved, with a  slight skip in her step, “An absolute dumbass.”

She broke into a run and crashed, into his chest, tangling her arms around him.

“Nat—” He curled his hands behind her back, “Nat—” He breathed, holding onto her, as tight as he could, “Oh, my—”

“I can’t believe you,” She leaned back, taking his hands, “You know, a long time ago, I wrote a profile on you.”

“Ah, yes –“ Tony chuckled, “Tony Stark, not advised, for the Avengers Initiative.”

“People said the same about me, once,” She smiled, “Now, look at us.”

Tony grinned, “We saved the day.”

“Who’d a thought it.” She raised a hand, pressing it against Tony’s cheek, “I didn’t approve you, for a reason though.”

Tony raised an eyebrow, “What reason?”

“I saw something, in you, that I don’t even think you saw in yourself.” She sniffled, “You care, so much. For Pepper, Rhodey, Happy, and now, those kids. Somewhere, under all the front, you’ve always wanted a simple life. I tried to give it to you, but—” She stammered, “The universe needed you.”

“Thank you,” He smiled uncertain, “Thank you for trying.” He let go, on her hands, and stepped back, caught up in his own head.

She watched him, worried, “Tony?”

“Peter’s back.”

She nodded, “I know.”

“He has no idea, what it’s been like.” He shook his head, “He was, the same kid, and seeing him, it felt—”

“Like everything was falling into place?”

“Yeah. All the right places too.”  He rested a hand under his chin, “I’m never gonna see them together. My kids.” He laughed, “Oh, the things they’ll do.”

Natasha tilted her head to her shoulder.

“Nat, I think I might have made a bad decision,” He admitted, “I’m scared I’ve made a mistake.”

“Me too,” She reached out, grabbing his wrist, “It was hard to let go.”

“How’d you do it?”

“I tried not to think about it.” She spoke softly, “What about you?”

“I had to.” He shrugged, “This is the vision that Strange saw.”

“He only saw fourteen billion futures.” She pointed out, “Time is infinite, right?”

“I guess, but it’s done.” He scraped his teeth over his lower lip, “For the longest time, I haven’t cared, if I live or if I die, but I didn’t wanna do this, Nat.” He held onto her hand, “I wanna see my kids grow up. See Morgan, go to school. Peter, go to college. I wanna grow old with Pep. I wanna be, in the same old people’s home as Rhodey and Happy, so I can annoy the shit out of them.”

Natasha laughed, but stopped, “You wanna live.”

“Yeah.”

“Everything’s going to be all right,” She grabbed his hands, “I have an idea.”

“What?”

She darted her eyes up, “You know where we are?”

“No, I—”

“It’s called the Way Station,” She explained, “I didn’t know anything about it until I died, but it’s connected, to the soul stone.”

Tony's forehead creased, “Okay…”

“The soul stone is living, it’s aware of the universes, around it.” Natasha said, “It knows what I did, the sacrifice I made, and it’s granted me a wish.”

“That’s—"

“You’re not seeing,” She interrupted, “It owes me, and I know what I’m gonna do, with that debt.”

Tony frowned, “Yeah?”

“I’m gonna give you a second chance.”

“What—” Tony crumbled, realizing what she was saying, “What do you mean?”

“You’re not dead yet,” She beamed, “I can save you.”

“You can’t use it, on me,” He stuttered, “Save you—"

“I can’t do that. It's not within the agreement.” She leaned up, resting a hand on his cheek again, “I wanna give it to you, and everyone else. You’ve fought so hard, you deserve this.”

“Nat—"

“You can’t stop me,” The determination in her eyes, was unfathomable, and he knew he could never turn her down, not when this was her last wish.

He looped his arms around her, pulling her off his feet, in a hug, “Thank you.” He muttered, resting his face against her shoulder.

She stepped back, tears welling in her eyes, “Don’t waste your life.”

“Never.” He smiled, “You’ll be okay, you won’t be lonely?”

“I could never be.” She vowed, “Promise me something?”

“Anything.”

“Remember me.”

He blinked away tears, “Trust me, nobody is ever gonna forget you.” He opened his mouth, "Goo--"

"Don't--" She interrupted, "Don't say goodbye, please." 

He nodded.

She smiled, “Will that be all, Mr. Stark?”

He bent down, pressing a kiss against her cheek, “Yes, thank you, Miss. Rushman.”

There was another blinding flash, and Tony was standing, on the battlefield, once more.

He was fine.

His arm was slightly numb but other than that, he was okay.

He stepped out of his suit, letting his stones fall to the ground.

“Easy peasy,” He brushed his hands against his undersuit, “Thanks, Nat.”

Rhodey landed, opening his mask, with teary eyes and a dropped jaw, “What—”

Tony chuckled, rubbing his hands together, “Crying for me, platypus?”

Rhodey stepped over, reaching out to poke Tony, in the chest, “Nah, I don’t like this,” He recoiled, “This is too much, for me.”

Tony held out his hands, “I’m okay.”

“You shouldn’t be okay,” Rhodey’s eyes widened, “Unless, you’re an alien, and I never knew—”

Tony shook his head, “I wish.”

“Tones, this makes no sense, how—”

Tony slouched his shoulders, with a smile, “It was Nat.”

Rhodey’s face dropped, “What?”

“She saved me.”

“What do you—"

A familiar swoosh came overhead, as Peter swung over, landing nearby, “Mr. Stark!”

Tony’s mouth twitched into a smile, “Kid—”

Peter strode over, but it was quickly apparent, that he wasn’t in the mood for a hug. He reached out, slapping Tony’s arm away, “You could have died!” He yelled, “You promised you’d never leave, not for anything! You can’t do that—”

“I’m sorry, kiddo,” He gently pulled him into a hug, resting his chin on top of his head, “I’m fine, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere, promise.”

Peter cried, “I can’t lose you too.”

He kissed his curls and held him close, “I know.”

“Tony!” Pepper landed, retracting her mask, “How—” A flood of relief washed over her, she looked to Rhodey, who simply shrugged, “Jesus.”

Tony reached out, taking her hand, “We’re gonna be okay, Pep.”

She chuckled, leaning in, to kiss his cheek, “Yeah.” She placed her hand on Peter’s back, “We are.”

Peter stepped back, “We won?”

“Yeah, we won, buddy.”

***

Life went on, for everyone.

Peter and Morgan met, it wasn’t long until they were as thick as thieves, ready to take on the world together.

Peter started dating Michelle, a few weeks after going back to school. Tony loved the awkwardness of it, from both sides.

When Peter, tried to admit his feelings for her, she thought he was telling her, that he was Spider-Man. A confusing mishap, but it worked out in the end, because, from the get-go, neither of them kept a secret from the other.

Suddenly, in a flash, it was the week before Christmas.

Morgan jumped into bed, grabbing her Piglet bear, hugging it under her arm, “Tell me a story,” She laughed, turning to look at Tony.

Tony perched, at the end of the bed, “A story?”

The door cracked open, and Peter poked his head around, “Hey, Tony—”

“Petey!” Morgan squealed, “Come on, Daddy’s telling a story!”

“A story?” Peter smiled, “I can’t turn that down.” He squeezed into bed, next to his sister, who instinctively curled up, over his lap.

Morgan threw her arms up, “Mimi too!”

Tony shrugged, with a laugh, “Let’s just invite everybody.”

Peter leaned to the side, “MJ!”

A door clicked open, and footsteps followed, “Hey—” Michelle stepped inside, “What—”

Morgan shouted, “Daddy’s gonna tell us a story!”

“Oh…” She raised an eyebrow, “You want me to join?”

Morgan nodded frantically, “Yep!”

Michelle chuckled, turning, “Stark?”

Tony motioned his head back, “Come on in, I’m improvising.”

Michelle cackled, “Should be entertaining.”

Tony joked, “Should we call Ned, while we’re at it?”

Peter shook his head, with a chuckle, “I mean, he’d love it, but he’s working.”

“Maybe next time.”

Michelle nudged Peter’s arm, “Budge up.”

Tony noticed that Michelle’s pajamas, had an old print of Black Widow on, the old merch line from before the fall of the Avengers.

He smiled, looking up at the trio.

“Have I ever told you three, about how I met Natasha?”

Morgan beamed, “Auntie Nat?”

“Yeah.”

Peter shook his head, “I don’t think so.”

Michelle held out her hands, “No clue.”

Tony leaned over, “It’s a fun story.”

Morgan bounced, up and down, “Tell it, tell it, tell it.”

Tony smiled, “Okay.”

Morgan rested on Peter’s lap and laid her legs over Michelle’s lap.

“She was the first member of the Avengers, that I met,” Tony started, “It was way before we assembled. It was, around the time of the Stark Expo.”

Morgan grinned, “When you met Petey!”

Michelle turned, “Wait, what?”

Peter waved a hand, “That’s a story for another night.”

Michelle rolled her eyes.

Peter nodded his head forward, “You were saying?”

“She was an agent, hired undercover, by Fury, to keep an eye on me.”

Morgan rocked, “Why?”

“I was being a little stupid, at the time,” He admitted, “I didn’t know, she was a spy. She called herself, Natalie Rushman. I didn’t know, at this moment, that I’d met one of the most important people, in my life.” He looked up, with a grin, “My little sister.”

From that night onwards, Tony told story after story, until Black Widow became Morgan’s favorite hero, and Michelle, did her thesis for college, on Natasha's life.

They kept remembering her, they never stopped.  

***

Eight years later, Peter and Michelle were married.

Tony couldn’t see the ceremony, not properly, through his tears. Neither could anyone else, for that matter.

After eating, came the speeches, Tony’s favorite part of any wedding.

Michelle’s parents, went first, followed by May, three hard acts to follow.

Happy raised, hitting his fork, off his glass, “It’s time for the groom’s mentor?” He raised an eyebrow, “Father-figure?” He placed his glass down, “Let’s cut to the chase, here’s Tony Stark.”

Tony wiped his eyes as he stood, “Not sure if I’m gonna top May’s one.”

They all laughed, May jokingly nudged his side.

“Ha,” Tony straightened his back, “Well, you all know who I am, so I won’t bore you with introductions.”

Peter laughed, leaning his head on his hand.

“I, um, I’ve been scratching my head, about what to say today,” Tony rubbed the nape, of his neck, “There’s so much, to say, about my kid.” He leaned, resting his hand against Peter’s shoulder, “Too much to say, in one speech. Jones, too.”

Michelle smiled.

“You’re both amazing,” Tony turned to face them, “No other way to put it. I look at you, and know, that the future, is in very safe hands. Which is strange now, because one of my fondest memories, of Peter, was a few months after we first met.”

Peter buried his face, in his hands.

“He was starting to feel, at home, at mine and Pepper’s place, so he’d thought he’d try and see if he could sleep, like a bat.”

Peter raised his head, “To clarify, it was Batman.”

“Not helping your case here, kiddo,” Tony barked a laugh, “Anyway, long story short, we spent the night, at the Infirmary.”

Peter hid his face against Michelle’s arm, as laughter travelled across the room.

“A broken arm, but an infectious laugh, of embarrassment.”

Tony swallowed, a lump in his throat, studying the faces looking back at him.

“I haven’t known Peter, since the beginning, I can take no credit for that, but we are all family, from every inch of the universe, from among the stars themselves.” He said, motioning to the Guardians, “We prove, that family, is what you make it, and how you love it. The universe is much bigger than most of us thought, twenty years ago. But, mine, was very small, for a long time.” He placed a hand, on his chest, “My fault.” He sniffled, “Then I met this kid, who showed me, how to love life again.”

Peter looked up at him, teary-eyed, with a smile.

“Even when he wasn’t here. You helped me, become a better man, and father,” Tony smiled, “The day, you came back, everything clicked into place. Then, Jones, you came along, and you fit in, from the get-go.” He laughed, “I remember, how giddy, Peter was, whenever he spoke about you.” He turned his attention to the room, “I never believed, in young love, but these two make it impossible to denounce it because you are the real deal.”

People nodded, in firm agreement.

“It can’t go unrecognized, that I would not be standing here, with you all, living this fantastic day, if it wasn’t for Natasha Romanoff.”

Clint met his gaze, with a grin and nod.

“She saved my life, like many of you know, and she gave me this,” He held out his hands, “I owe her, a lifetime. I know, whenever she is, watching over us, she’s telling us all, to drink the night away, and embarrass the hell out of one another.”

The room erupted with laughter again.

Rhodey raised his glass, “To Natasha Romanoff.”

“To Natasha Romanoff!”

Tony raised his, “To the bride and groom!”

“To the bride and groom!”

Peter jumped up, hugging Tony, “Thank you.”

***

Eighteen months later, Peter and Michelle welcomed their first child.

A half-asleep May, and Michelle’s mother, Madeline, woke Tony, who was passed out, on the Infirmary couch, in the Relative’s Room, and they told him, it was time to meet his granddaughter.

He circled, into the room, with a smile, “Hey—”

Peter hopped up, heading over for a hug, “Hey, Tony—”

“Hey, kiddo—” Tony bent down, pressing a kiss in his curls.

Michelle was sitting in bed, cradling her daughter, “Hey, Stark.”

“Jones.” He walked over, “How you are doing?”

“Just a little tired.” Michelle shrugged, “Peter passed out.”

Peter circled the bed, sitting down, “I didn’t pass out, I sat down.”

Michelle snorted a laugh, “Dad shock.”

“I was the same,” Tony reassured him, leaning over to get a look at the baby, “Can’t believe you two managed to pull this off.”

His granddaughter looked up, at him, with wide eyes.

“She’s perfect.”

Michelle moved, “Do you wanna hold her?”

“Of course.” He reached down, carefully taking her, out of Michelle’s arms, “Wow.”

Peter bobbed his head, “He’s already planning ways to spoil her.”

“Ha,” Tony rocked her, “I’ll be looking for cars soon.”

Michelle waved a hand, “You’re a grandparent, you’re allowed.”

Tony looked down, at his granddaughter, “Hey there…”

Peter smiled,  “Natalie.”

“Natalie Parker.” Tony’s heart skipped a beat, “That’s a good strong name, and we’re gonna take on the world together.” He pressed a kiss against her forehead,  “All of us.”

[quijotine]

come get ya miraculous juice

If your thirst for lukanette and slow burn adrinette cannot possibly wait for season 4, Chapter 10 of The Wall Between Us is up on AO3! 

Or read in Tumblr below the cut

Chapter 10

“Aw, come on Luka, don’t be like this,” Albin said, swinging an arm around his neck.

“I’m not being like anything,” Luka protested as he and his group of friends made their way out of the metro station and towards Place de la Concorde. “I’m just saying I don’t feel like coming to a demonstration.”

“So, what would you rather be doing today instead, hm? Stay locked up in your room like an emo kid? Besides, the weather is great today and you know Margot will hang us by our heads if we don’t show up.”

Luka sighed and remitted to walk along, which pleased Albin.

Luka’s friends had been very adamant on helping him out of the house as often as possible since his breakup with Marinette. They knew that, left to his own devices, Luka would close up and keep to himself. He wasn’t the kind of guy that readily shared when something bothered him, he was more the type that had to be squeezed like an orange for him to share his mind when he was feeling low. However, this was not the reason why Luka had put up more of a fight than it was usually his style. It had been almost a week since the breakup and he had managed to keep out of trouble with Hawkmoth, but he attributed his success to a lot of calm evenings and just processing everything his own way.

As much as he supported the cause and his friend Margot, he could see how participating in a demonstration could get him riled up, especially if some asshole showed up. And he’d attended enough demonstrations during his lifetime to know that there was always some asshole showing up.

The trio of boys made their way to the organizers’ tent, where Margo kept busy readying cardboard signs. Without as much as a quick glance upwards and a smile, she said, “Oh good, you’re here. Help me with these, please. Paint is on the table over there.” She handed a couple of cardboard pieces to each of the boys and left them to their own devices.

Luka wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with these. His creativity didn’t exactly lie in the visual department. That was always more a thing for...

He shook his head and proceeded to grab some random paint and brushes for Albin, Noe, and himself. As he turned around, he accidentally knocked a container of black paint on the person behind him waiting their turn.

“What the heck! Watch it!” the girl exclaimed.

“Shit,” he hissed. “Oh my god, I'm so sorry! Let me help you clean-- Kagami?”

It took him a couple seconds to recognize who she was. It had been almost a year since he had last seen her. There was an air to her that made it evident she had changed a lot during that time, but it was also obvious in her appearance. She had cut her hair shorter than before and she had now several piercings on her ears. She seemed to have also shed her preppy outfits in favor of high-waisted mom jeans and a black crop top. Besides her appearance, Luka could  just tell this was the type of girl who wouldn’t take crap from anyone, even more than before. It was a bit… daunting. He did always wonder how someone as intimidatingly sure of herself ended up with someone like Adrien.

“Luka,” she said deadpan.

“You... look very different.”

She gave him a dirty look. “Really? You come to a feminist demonstration and the first thing you do is comment on my appearance?”

Luka blushed with embarrassment. “No, no, no! Sorry! I didn’t mean it like that! You just-- in general. You look different in general.”

She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Thanks for ruining my pants, by the way. They weren't my favorite or anything,” she said sarcastically, then stopped, looked around the room and asked, “Where’s Marinette, anyway? Maybe she knows some way to take the stain off.”

Luka clutched his painting utensils and gulped. He had tried to steer away from the subject as much as possible to reduce his risk of getting akumatized, but he supposed there wasn’t much of a way to evade it right now.

“We, uh... we broke up a few days ago.”

“Oh.” Kagami perked up, suddenly aware how her question might have been a little insensitive. “Sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah.”

“Not that it’s my business, but how are you doing? After your akumatization and so on?”

“I didn’t get akumatized,” he said, suddenly defensive, as an urge to get back to his friends built up.

“Really?” Kagami said, a bit surprised.

“Yes, really.”

“I always had the impression you were super into her,” she commented, but mostly to herself.

“I am--I was,” he said, getting angry.

“I got akumatized into this nightmarish monster when Adrien and I broke up and it turned out it didn’t take me so much to get over him.”

“That has absolutely nothing to do with it,” he retorted, evidently irked.

“No, no. Of course not,” she hurried to say, realizing she had unintentionally pushed his buttons. “I just meant to say props to you. Lesser people get akumatized for the weather or something like that. Sorry for the stupid comparison.

“Sure. Whatever…”

“... Anyway,” Kagami said, sighing. “I guess we’ve made this sufficiently awkward, right? So, I’ll get going.”

Luka marched back to his friends and unceremoniously dumped the materials at the center of their little circle as tried to calm himself down.

He tried to focus on getting something into his sign but the fact he was stuck doing something Marinette usually loved to do was not helping in the slightest.

He breathed heavily, his eyes prickling him as hot, angry tears pooled and then fell onto the cardboard.

“I need some fresh air,” he announced to his friends, who had noticed his mood but had not said anything yet and watched as he stormed outside.

He paced around, taking deep breaths. The anxiety of not being able to calm down mixed with the fear of getting akumatized, was like kindling soaked in gasoline being thrown into a starting fire. And, as wildfires do, it burst out of control.

Luka gasped for air and then, with horror saw as the black butterfly approached him. He sprinted back to the tent where his friends were but by the time he got there, the butterfly had already lodged in the paintbrush he was holding.

The voice of his friends urging him not to give into the spell was faint and distant in his ears, but enough to keep him steady.

The first thing he noticed is that this akumatization felt different. He's was still aware of everything. He hadn’t been completely akumatized yet. Hawkmoth held him in his petrifying grasp but stalled, as if deciding what to turn him into.

Suddenly, his grave voice echoed inside his head.

“What is it that you want, Luka Couffaine?”

“Get out of my head,” Luka hissed, focusing as hard as he could on not thinking of anything that would reveal the secrets he knew.

Hawkmoth laughed. “But you called me here. Your emotions... I can tell you’re a soul in pain. You lost something. I can relate to that pain.” Luka felt how Hawkmoth snaked through his thoughts, looking for something to convince him. A flash of a thought, and Hawkmoth knew he was hiding something.

“GET OUT!” he screamed in his head.

He laughed again. “Oh? And what secrets might you be keeping? Hm?”

Luka winced, straining to keep thinking of random things: music, the weather, that weird bench at school that wobbles when he sits and how he hates it. Anything.

“I can help you recover what you lost...” he whispered softly. “Your girlfriend… Don’t you want her back? What is her name? I can help you. I promise I won’t hurt her.”

He felt himself slipping, turning.

“No!” he said, reverting back into his human form. “Let me go!”

��Maybe what you want is revenge on him? The reason she abandoned you? You’re not worthy like him, are you? That’s why she left you… But I can make you worthy… Wouldn't you want to be in his place, hm? Wouldn’t everything be better with that pesky boy of the way?”

Again, Luka felt himself morph and forced himself to think of other things. He tried reciting stupid facts he knew about ship maintenance.

“Get out of my head!” he exclaimed, sounding much weaker.

“Your power of will is very commendable,” Hawkmoth said. “But if I’m overstaying my welcome all you need to do is tell me what you want.”

“N-no!” Luka said, straining and screaming. “GET OUT!”

“If you--”

Suddenly the contact broke, and he collapsed onto the ground. The world went dark.

When Luka regained consciousness, he did so with a jolt. He was surrounded by his friends, Ladybug and Chat Noir, and surprisingly enough, Kagami.

He had an ungodly headache and realized blood had dried on his upper lip. His nose must have bled.

“Give him some space,” Ladybug ordered the crowd, seeing as Luka was struggling to gather his bearings. He didn’t know what particular panic to tackle first.

“What happened?” he asked, noticing they were not under the tent anymore and the gathering crowd that was preparing for the demonstration had dissipated.

“You got akumatized,” Ladybug explained, a bit surprised she had to fill him in on that particular point.

“Or rather, were about to akumatized,” Chat Noir said, trying to help his confused expression.

“You kept changing into different things. Like, you were getting akumatized on and off again,” Albin explained. “It was pretty scary.”

He turned to Ladybug with horror realizing what that meant. “You need to take me out of here,” he urged.

“Please!”

“Just take it easy for a second, okay?” Ladybug said, trying her best not to share Luka’s worry. “We’ll take you home in a minute.”

Ladybug and Chat Noir had not been present for most of the incident, so they stayed to talk to the people that had seen the attack, mainly Luka’s friends and Kagami.

Chat Noir was the one to interview them while Ladybug found some water for Luka to drink. Once everyone had calmed down and gave Chat Noir their testimony, they took Luka away to a secluded place to talk. It was the abandoned industrial section where Chat usually led Akumas.

“He knows,” he said, with absolute terror in his voice, Luka said pacing around, trying his best to contain his tears. “He knows that I know something! He saw that I was hiding something. I’m so sorry, Ladybug. I tried but he--he was in my mind and saw--.” His voice broke down.

For a reason unknown to Chat, Ladybug suddenly assumed the same urgency as Luka.

“Did he see?” she asked as Luka cried. “Luka, did he see?”

“See what?” Chat Noir asked, with escalating worry. “What is going on?”

“He didn’t. That’s why I kept changing, he tried to convince me several times,” said Luka. “But he knows that I’m keeping a secret.”

Ladybug covered her mouth with her hands.

“Would somebody please just care to explain what is going on?” Chat demanded.

“You didn’t tell him?” Luka said with disbelief.

“Luka, I need you to tell me exactly everything you remember. What happened?” Ladybug said, ignoring the question.

“Nothing. He just… he figured that I… lost someone. And he was trying to get me to tell him who it was, and to convince me to try to get them back, or to get revenge. I managed to focus my thoughts, but what if he tries again,” Luka said fearfully. “You were right,” he sobbed. “I shouldn’t have—I should’ve just looked away that day! I wish I never knew about this.”

Despite Chat’s presence, Ladybug could only comfort Luka with a hug, not knowing what else to do. Chat, on the other hand, seemed to have put two and two together. Luka knew Marinette’s identity.

“Oh my god…” Chat muttered with disbelief as he leaned against the metal sliding door of one of the warehouse buildings and fell to the floor. He grabbed chunks of his hair just to process what all of this meant, what to feel first. His father was only an akumatization away from figuring out Marinette.

“Luka, I promise you I won’t let anything happen to you, okay? We will come up with a plan, Chat Noir and me. But for now, I need to you to lay as low as possible. We cannot be seen together anymore. At all. If Hawkmoth is the person Chat and I suspect he is, he could be very close to finding out who I am if he makes the connection that we were together. Erase everything. Everything we ever posted on our social media, messages, calls, anything that might be public evidence. Try to have Juleka do the same.”

Luka contemplated the prospect for a moment. Ladybug knew she was thinking exactly the same thing as him: how devastating it will be to have to pretend that nothing ever happened. To actively destroy their memories together.

“Okay,” he said after a while. “And what if I get akumatized again? I don’t think I’ll be able to hold him off for any longer than I did today.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Ladybug said. “That’s for us to figure out. Your only task is to pretend like you don’t know us, for your own sake.”

They sent Luka back home on a cab that Marinette called through her burner phone, leaving a heavy sense of danger looming between Chat and Ladybug. He was still on his spot on the ground, with his head on his hands as he supported his arms on his knees.

Ladybug sighed and slid down to sit next to him.

“You told him?”

“I’ve only ever told Alya. He found out by accident,” she said, already defensive and prepared for the argument that was bubbling up between them. “He also knows who you are.”

Chat’s stomach dropped. “Come again?”

“He was hiding in the same alley you transformed in one day.”

Chat let out a heavy sigh and swore loudly.

“You knew about this and you didn’t think to tell me?” he asked Ladybug.

Ladybug was in complete silence. She didn’t know what to say. “I—“

“You what?” Chat demanded.

“I— I meant to tell you next time we met,” she said. “I didn’t think—“

“You didn’t think to tell me that the boyfriend you just broke up with and was very much at risk of being akumatized knows who we are?” he exclaimed with frustration.

“I just—“ Ladybug tried to come up with an explanation, but the words kept getting stuck on her throat. Chat was right to be mad. She should have told him as soon as she found out. But everything had been so much, with him disappearing and Luka suddenly breaking up with her that, in a moment of weakness, him knowing her identity had been the least of her worries.

“What were you thinking?” Chat demanded. “Ladybug, I told you I’m close to the Agreste family!”

“I’m sorry!” she yelled. “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t think—I was… I was so distracted by everything going on that I never thought… I meant to tell you! But then all this stupid teenage drama got in the way! He broke up with me literally the day after you and I talked. That’s when he told me. I meant to tell you Chat Noir, I swear. I just...” she sighed. “I’m so stupid!”

She knocked the back of her head on the metal wall that they were leaning against. “This was the kind of mistake I wanted to evade by telling someone! And it still happened… No matter what I do, nothing ever seems to be enough.”

She was angry at herself, at the situation, at the fact that no matter how hard she tried, she was still not a good enough Guardian.

“We still have time to fix this,” he said, a lot calmer and even with hints of reassurance in his voice. “We need to use our upper hand before Hawkmoth gets a chance to get his,” said Chat. “I can get a hold of his personal calendar. We can attack when he least expects it.”

“How are you going to do that, Chat? Let me go with you,” Ladybug said, worried.

Chat shook his head. “I’ll do it as a civilian.”

“The more reason!”

“No, Ladybug. If anything goes wrong and he sees you there, he’ll be able to figure everything out. Trust me. I promise I will be careful.”

“But--”

“Marinette, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if anything happened to you,” Chat Noir said, his voice cracking and evidencing the whirlwind of emotions he had been trying to hide from her. “Please, just let me do this. Please, my lady.”

“Okay,” she said quietly. “But promise me you’ll be careful. And you’ll tell me when you do it. Please, promise me you’ll tell me.”

“I will.”

The clicking of Natalie’s heels as she entered the office disturbed the soft classical music playing in the background.

“Here’s the schedule for tomorrow, sir,” she said, placing a thin stack of papers on Gabriel’s desk. “Your flight to Helsinki is expected to arrive at nine a.m. and your first meeting is at ten, as you requested.”

“Excellent. Thank you, Natalie,” Gabriel said, without taking his sight off his screen.

Natalie nodded, heading to her desk.

“One more thing while I am absent, Natalie.”

“Yes, sir?”

Gabriel zoomed into the picture of the article he had been reading. The photographer had managed to capture the teenager he had akumatized looking urgently at Ladybug, who seemed to reciprocate his concern.

“Make sure to find out everything you can about this... Luka Couffaine.”

[fanfic-scribbles]

Sweet As

Fandom: MCU Captain America/Avengers

Summary: Natasha didn’t know she would like soft things but SHIELD surprises her in a number of ways– this time, with you.

Quick facts: Romance – Natasha Romanoff/Reader – female!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Reader is a softie, Natasha is a softie at heart, Christmas fic, references to baking/candy making (I’m hungry), set pre-Avengers

Words: 2218

A/N: Friendly reminder that I occasionally glance at canon and then tend to throw it out the window, so sorry if characterizations don’t match. I’m keeping the “MCU Captain America/Avengers” for fandom because it’s in that universe but in my head this is set in a nebulous time where Natasha has been working for SHIELD for a little while but she’s still a little wary/kinda feral. But she’s still the Natasha in my head and I Love Her. This thing went places I didn’t expect but I am very pleased I finished it before Christmas (￣ω￣) Happy whatever you celebrate, even if all you celebrate is ‘having a good Wednesday.’ I hope tomorrow is most excellent. /hugs

   ~

  “So what are you angling for?”

Natasha barely looks askance at Clint, still sour on how he handled that truck during the mission, but he just nods in your direction and Natasha turns her head back to where she was already looking before Clint’s nonsensical question. You’re bobbing your head to Christmas music and typing away at the front desk of this field office that few other agents like to be stuck at– except around Christmas. She doesn’t get it. It isn’t that far from headquarters, and as far as receptionists go you’re much better at your job year-round than anyone in DC. And she does like talking to you. You’re nothing like she would expect from SHIELD, and while Natasha is fine with curt and formal, sometimes she likes being welcomed. You scratch that itch.

“It’s holiday baking season,” Clint says and leans in closer, but not too close to make Natasha uncomfortable. She might forgive his terrible driving someday. “So what were you trying to sweet-talk her into making?”

“I wasn’t trying to ‘sweet-talk’ anything. I was making polite conversation with someone who doesn’t crash cars into houses.”

“Aw, you can tell me. Come on, what’s your favorite?”

Natasha bristles. You’re completely oblivious to all of this, now too far away to hear the quiet conversation while you fiddle with something at a table on the other side of the room, and the guard in the corner looks bored. Good, because it’s going to be one of those conversations with Clint, she can feel it, and she’s just too tired; she just wants to get chewed out by Fury already and be officially done with this mission.

Clint leans back, resting his head in his hands. “I hope she makes the peppermint bark again; that was so good.”

Natasha’s stomach grumbles. She sighs.

“Ooo, were you here for the Ooey Gooey Holiday Bars? And the Santa Snack Mix. But you seem like you’d be into the classics. Were you trying for the sugar cookies?”

“I wasn’t trying for anything.”

“That smile you gave her totally betrayed you. Is it the homemade eggnog? Oh, but you like chocolate! Fudge maybe? But which kind?”

Natasha may not be a native speaker, but she’s damn good at a variety of languages and she always knows when she’s being made fun of. It rankles. Thankfully sometimes Clint has some self-preservation. “I’m sorry Nat,” he says and scoots away a little. “I was just trying to figure out what we might get next; that’s all.”

Natasha sits primly. “You’ll have to ask her.”

Indeed, the next moment you come over, bearing steaming hot mugs of sweetly-smelling chocolate. “I’m sorry about the wait,” you say. “I’m sure you’ll be seen very soon. In the meantime I hope this keeps you warm.”

Natasha doesn’t know what you’re on about– it is incredibly warm in this office, especially with your own body heat so close to add to the mix– but she takes the cup with a polite “thank you.”

Someone has to be polite, since Clint takes a gulp and then lets out a wholly inappropriate moan. “Is this the homemade stuff?”

“Straight from the Tupperware,” you say proudly. “I hope it’s good; if it isn’t I do have some powdered mix.”

Clint gives you such a severe look that actually shocks Natasha– she’s never seen it before– but your laugh puts her back at ease. “Well, hopefully it helps; I heard you guys had a rough ride in.” You look at Natasha and bite your lip nervously. “Do you like it?”

“It’s very good,” Natasha says and takes a sip. It’s hot, creamy, and does indeed do wonders for the urge to flip Clint into a wall.

You smile wide and you lean in close to whisper, “I gave you extra marshmallows.” Then you wink and go right back to your desk. You trip just before you make it into your chair but you slip into it and start typing again like nothing happened. Natasha smiles into her cup.

Clint is uncharacteristically silent for several seconds before he says, “Is my hearing aid still fritzing or did she give you extra marshmallows?”

Natasha’s smile curls into something even better.

~

“I think she likes you.”

The sparring session is over and Clint is lying on his back, breathing heavily. Their dressing-down hadn’t been as bad as Natasha had thought it would be, but the end of it had left them both still a little wired and so they had come to the gym to burn off the lingering anxiety.

Natasha is looking forward to crawling into bed soon, but Clint is looking at her expectantly. She eyes him warily as she sips her water, but the nonsensical statement is not followed by anything resembling an intent to attack. Once she’s had enough time to think, she pulls the bottle from her lips. “Who?”

“You know.” Clint raises his eyebrows and says your name. “No one, and I mean no one, ever gets extra marshmallows.”

Natasha rolls her eyes and Clint springboards to his feet. “No, really!” he insists and sits down on the bench with his own water bottle, practically choking on half the contents before he says, “Christmas treats are serious business around here and she always makes sure everything is ridiculously fair.”

“Stop being an idiot,” Natasha says, in vain.

“I’m not– oh, hey Bobbi!” Clint says and waves.

Agent Morse sees him and turns from her path to the locker rooms to approach them, a workout bag slung over her shoulder. “Barton. Romanoff.”

“Did you get some of that hot chocolate?” Clint asks.

“Of course. I think this was the best batch yet.” Bobbi’s eyes glaze over for a moment and then she snaps back to the professional Natasha is used to. “You’re lucky you got any; she had to defend your share with her life.”

“Some of us are luckier than others,” Clint says. “Natasha got extra marshmallows.”

Bobbi scoffs, but she looks between the two of them and her expression pinches into something overly sincere. “Are you serious?”

“Morse!” Hill calls out as she strides in, making all three of them flinch. “Why aren’t you changed?”

“Romanoff got extra marshmallows.”

Hill’s simmering displeasure dissipates and she whips her head to stare at Natasha. “Seriously?”

“They’re marshmallows,” Natasha says, wondering what is in the air and if she can avoid catching it.

“They’re handmade,” Clint says. “I’m not joking when I say holiday sweets are Serious Business around here. Didn’t you wonder why Fury is stationed here for the next month?”

Natasha throws her hands up, snatches her bag, and turns on her heel. “I’m going to bed; goodnight.”

When she’s almost out the front door, you’re cleaning up your station. “Goodnight Agent Romanoff!” you say.

Natasha…isn’t as annoyed anymore, so she turns and smiles at you. “Good night.”

Sure, you look a little…flustered…but Natasha assumes she still looks ragged from her workout and chalks it up to that.

~

But it doesn’t stop.

When she’s next making small talk with you and you give her a small bag of chocolates and Clint gives her a ‘knowing’ look, she wants to kick something.

When Agent May stops in and sees Natasha’s ‘stocking’ on the wall with everyone else’s, and then looks Natasha up and down before sharing a look with Morse and Hill, Natasha wants to strangle someone.

When Fury sees Natasha hastily stuffing another small cellophane-wrapped treat into her bag and then wordlessly hands Natasha a pamphlet on SHIELD’s workplace romance policy before turning and walking away, she wants to yell.

When you hand her a mug of hot chocolate with one large heart-shaped marshmallow floating on top, she…

…she doesn’t know what she wants to do.

~

Natasha is killing time on a punching bag, waiting for word from medical, when someone enters the room. She stills, tense and ready for whatever she’s going to get from Fury or Hill, but the footsteps are uneven and hesitant.

Natasha turns and watches you as you carefully walk across the mats. Natasha doesn’t know what she’s going to say– this is not the right time for this conversation– but apparently it doesn’t matter how unprepared and out of sorts she is because you’re leaning in and–

“So, um, don’t tell Fury, but Morales is going to text you when Clint is out of surgery and you’ll have ten minutes to run over and see him.”

Natasha blinks and stares as you pull back, fidgeting with your hands again. No amount of sweet-talking or threatening had done her any good, so… “How?”

You look elsewhere when you say, “I promised him a tray of something he really, really likes,” but you look at her resolutely when you add, “But I’m sworn to secrecy so don’t even ask.”

Even Coulson had lightly made fun of how Morales had lusted after the pan of butterscotch-something-or-other bars, so she can guess. However. “Why?” Natasha asks. “Why are you hel– why are you so interested in me?”

You look surprised for a brief moment. And then you shrug. Natasha had not expected that, but she listens when you start speaking. “You laugh at my dumb puns and you made a “Terminator” joke that made Agent May threaten to kill you and you fixed my computer better than IT ever could. You’re smart and brave and strong and, yes, pretty, and I like you and I want to know you better.”

“I’m a killer,” Natasha reminds you.

“This is SHIELD,” you remind her. “I wish I couldn’t say so, but everyone here is at least a little twisted and broken.” You shrug again. “It’s one of the reasons I started bringing in goodies at Christmas, actually. If you don’t have anyone or get stuck at work for a long time this can be a strange and lonely time of year, even if you don’t celebrate.” You squint. “Maybe even especially if you don’t.”

You look at her again, a strange mix of confident and uncertain. “I like you, and even if you don’t like me like that it’s okay and I’d still like to know you better. If…if you’re comfortable with that.”

Natasha has been up for almost 26 hours straight now and has spent five of those hours escaping a compound full of armed enemies. “I’ll have to think about it.”

You nod and step back. “Oh– and for the record,” you say. “Clint has always been very nice to me and I think he’d like to know you visited. Just…full disclosure.”

Natasha nods, but the second she moves her head is the second her phone buzzes in her pocket. You jump back and Natasha turns towards the door, already plotting the fastest path to medical, but she takes one step and then swings back over to you– and presses a gentle kiss to your cheek.

“Thank you,” Natasha says, takes one glance at your bewildered, dreamy expression, and then strides out of the gym, now with a plan and steadily growing sense of peace. After she checks on Clint, she’s going to go home. She would go to sleep right away but…well, the pamphlet Fury gave her is still on her desk, and she has some reading to do before bed.

~

A few days later Natasha walks into the office during the dead time in the afternoon, when the guard is switching and on the outside of your reception area. You scramble to cover up your phone at the clicking of her heels, but when you see it’s just her you exhale deeply and smile.

Natasha smiles back, and walks over to drop the workplace romance policy on your desk. You go still and Natasha says, “I think, if we’re going to discuss this, then you should probably read this first.”

The way you hunch over the desk is a tell that she finds almost delightful. “I already, uh…I already…”

“You already read it.” Natasha leans over your desk and lowers her face conspiratorially. “That’s a little presumptuous, isn’t it?”

Anyone else might stammer, but you laugh. “I just like to be prepared,” you say and prop your chin in your hand.

“I can respect that,” Natasha says solemnly. “Have you thought about where you’re going to take me to dinner?”

Your eyes go wide. “Yes!”

“Good,” Natasha says and grabs your phone to put in her number. “Text me the address and we’ll meet there at seven. I have a job to do but I shouldn’t be late.”

“Okay. Okay! Seven, I will–” You clear your throat and compose yourself. “I’ll see you at seven. Nothing too fancy by the way, just kind of nice, and– oh, this is going to sound so stupid, but, uh you don’t– you don’t have any food allergies, do you?”

Natasha suppresses a laugh. “No, I don’t.” She leans back in closer to you. “I do have one request though.”

Your eyes are wide again as you wait for her to speak. Natasha reaches for your face and sweeps her fingers across your cheek. “Make sure it has good dessert,” she says and lightly tucks your chin. She smiles, and it feels nice. It feels real. “I’m in the mood for something sweet.”

[calenheniel]

Queen of the Ashes, a frozen fanfic | Part V

Frozen | Alternate Universe | Hans x Elsa | Romance, Drama | T+

They meet as children, each with a secret. Plagued by tragedy, their paths cross again many years later, and their secrets are unraveled.

Author’s Note: Finally, a new chapter for everyone! And you can read it on Tumblr below if you don’t feel like opening a new page.

Read it on: AO3 | FF.Net | Wattpad

Follow updates: #QueenoftheAshesFrozen

»»————-　❈　————-««

V.

The queen managed to avoid seeing the prince alone for several days after their conversation in the library, though as the coronation festivities continued, she could not escape his company at the breakfast table, nor during the larger evening parties held in the castle.

He was respectful of her wishes to be left alone to the point that she wondered if he had really been “interested” in her at all. He did not engage her in discussions, nor did he meet her eyes with that wry, knowing gleam which had so unnerved her during the first two days of his stay.

Nonetheless, she was still careful in sidestepping him at every turn: at private mealtimes with him and her sister, her comments were brief and given sparingly, if at all; at social occasions, she made sure that she was always accompanied by a guard or another guest; and when retreating to her bedroom or other private space to do work or rest, she had a guard stationed outside who was instructed to let absolutely no one in—even her most trusted servants.

Being mostly alone again felt familiar, and yet also strange. Her confession to the prince weighed on her mind, and she fretted over the implications of it, turning over every word that had been spoken between them and how any (or all) of it could be used against her. Given their individual reputations at court and abroad, she was conscious of what the increased number of eyes and ears around the castle might assume or say if they saw or heard the Mysterious Queen of Arendelle and the Last Prince of the Plague-Stricken Southern Isles alone together.

It was with some surprise, then, that she heard a light knock on her door at the beginning of the second week of celebrations, interrupting her mid-scrawl as she sat at her desk signing papers, her thoughts torn between political and private matters.

“Elsa, can I come in?”

She recognized her sister’s voice and stood, walking to the door and pressing a hand to it. “Anna? You know I’m working right now,” she replied.

“Can we talk? Just for, like, five minutes,” the princess pleaded. “I feel like I’ve barely seen you lately, outside of meals.”

Her older sister sighed, and – in spite of her instincts urging her otherwise – she cracked the door open slightly, and stepped out of the room. She gave a small look of disapproval to a young guardsman standing at the door, and then nodded for him to leave them. He bowed with a sheepish expression before walking away.

The princess watched the exchange with a raised brow. “He wasn’t supposed to let me knock, was he?”

The queen suppressed a guilty look. “It’s not that,” she lied. “I just wanted him to give us space, that’s all.”

“Right,” the princess said, unconvinced. After a moment, her expression brightened, and she continued: “Anywho, like I was saying: I haven’t seen you in a while, and I wanted to check in on you. You doing okay?”

The question took the queen aback, and she blinked. “I—yes, I’m fine,” she stammered. Collecting herself, she explained: “You seem to be really in your element this week, entertaining our guests. I didn’t want to distract you from that.”

“It’s been fun, for sure,” her sister agreed, “but I’ve missed you, too.” Her head cocked to the side as she regarded the queen, and a smirk graced her lips. “So has Hans, you know.”

Her older sister’s face turned redder than beetroot. “Has he?” she asked, though she ensured her tone was cool and uninterested. “I don’t think he knows me well enough to miss me, Anna.”

“I would beg to differ, dear sister,” the princess countered in an affected, snobbish accent. “I know it doesn’t seem like it lately, because he’s been quieter than before, but he’s been staring at you with such longing when you’re not looking. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t even listen to half of what I’m saying whenever you’re in the room.” There was a playful, mischievous glint in her eye as she continued: “But you’ve been playing hard to get. I mean, I know that’s your thing anyway, but it’s more fun to watch when you do it to him.”

When her older sister’s expression twisted at the remark, the princess backpedaled quickly. “Sorry, that’s not what I—I’m being a jerk. I’m just trying to say: I think he likes you, Elsa. Like… likes you, if you know what I mean.”

“You have no idea,” the queen muttered so that only she could hear it, sighing. “Again, Anna: that’s not possible,” she said, her voice firm. “This is the first time we’ve seen him in fifteen years, and he’s only been here for a week.” She frowned, raising her chin. “If he ‘likes’ anything about me, I can promise you his feelings only go skin-deep.”

“I don’t think it matters if he’s been here five days, or five minutes,” the princess proclaimed, “not if it’s true love. You’d just know if it was meant to be.”

Her older sister rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “Uh-huh,” she replied. “So I guess if you thought Hans was ‘the one’ when you met him on Monday, you two would’ve been married by Tuesday.”

“Yep,” the princess nodded. “And sure, when I first ran into him, I did have some thoughts along those lines,” she admitted, blushing. “After all, he’s really handsome, and his hair color is kinda like mine, and he also loves sandwiches, so, you know, in another universe we could have been soulmates, theoretically.” The red in her cheeks faded as she grinned. “But he kept asking about you that first night – not too much, but just enough to make me wonder – and then I saw the way he looked at you the next morning, and in the library, and the way he’s been looking at you ever since, and… it’s just so obvious that he’s crazy about you,” she concluded with a gentler smile, winking at the queen. “Can’t say I blame him. You are really beautiful, after all—and smart, and—”

Her older sister blushed again, looking away. “That’s enough,” she said, hugging her arms around her waist. “I don’t need your flattery, or his. And I don’t think you should be advocating on his behalf, or trying to play matchmaker.” Her lips curled. “He can speak for himself, if that’s his intention—though I’m not interested in the slightest.”

“Well that’s just the thing, Elsa,” the princess said, frowning. “You don’t even give him a chance to talk to you, let alone make his case. You just shut him out, the same way you always do to me, and—”

A sudden, cold wind swept through the hallway and cut her comment short, and her teeth chattered as she wrapped her arms around herself.

The queen’s eyes widened as she realized its source, bracing her hands at her sides and curling her fingers into fists. “You should go,” she said quietly, turning towards the door. “I have to get back to work.”

The princess’s eyes tightened. “Fine,” she snapped, “I’ll go. But…” She paused, pressing her hands together. “Just think about what I said. Please.”

The two shared one last look before the princess left, and when she was finally out of sight, her older sister re-entered her bedroom and pressed her back up against the doors with a shaky exhale.

It was not until a few minutes later that she realized she was still gripping the doorknob, the metal frozen solid within her grasp.

»» —— ««

To the queen’s displeasure, she did indeed think about her sister’s comments for the rest of the afternoon into the evening.

In fact, by the time she was expected in the main parlor room for an evening of musical performances and poetry readings by the lords and ladies of her country – as well as those in the diplomatic entourages staying in the castle – she was still so agitated by the unanticipated meeting with her sister that she could hardly summon the pretense of care for the activities held in her honor.

She gave the hollowest of smiles and perfunctory nods to each performer, thankful that she did not have to speak much; it took most of her concentration not to turn her head, knowing that a few feet behind her sat the subject of her consternation. Alert to his presence, her body was taut with tension, the only sign of her sentience being her fingers as they continuously smoothed, and then creased, the paper program in her lap. She did not shift in her seat for what seemed like hours, even when she felt several of her limbs start to go numb.

Her sister sat at a distance from her, closer to the prince, and made up for the queen’s lack of enthusiasm with passionate applause and outpourings of praise. The princess’s charms distracted the guests and the performers alike enough for her older sister to make an early exit just after the end of the last song, though her attempt to elegantly leave the room was stunted by her still-sleeping right leg.

A hand deftly caught her before she fell on her face, and without even looking up, she knew who it was that had saved her from public embarrassment.

“Ha—Prince Hans,” she corrected, her cheeks pinking. “Thank you.”

He nodded as he helped her to stand. “Glad I caught you, Your Majesty. Please, let me walk you out.”

Her nose wrinkled as she swallowed a frown. “Thank you,” she repeated, though with an edge of unease.

The curious expressions of the princess and other guests followed them as he escorted her out of the parlor and into the hallway, where several guards stood by, watching them. He smiled. “I’ll be leaving you here, then, Your Majesty,” he said, bowing, “in these fine men’s capable hands.”

The color in her face had not dissipated, but she put on a formal, regal bearing in the presence of the men. “I’d like to speak with you, Prince Hans, unless you’re otherwise engaged.”

His brow raised, and he bowed again. “As you wish, Your Majesty.”

She forced a smile onto her lips, and took a candelabra off the wall next to her. “Good. Follow me, please.”

She led the prince through winding hallways in silence until they reached a large set of ornately painted doors, and her gaze fixated briefly on the blue and green snowflake and flower patterns upon their surface before opening them onto the gallery.

“Not really the most private place for a conversation,” he remarked, his voice echoing off the tall ceilings as he peered through the darkness at the paintings on the walls. “Ah—there’s Joan again,” he mentioned, pointing at the familiar figure by the second set of doors on the opposite end of the gallery.

“We’re not staying here,” she said, and motioned for him to follow her through those doors into another, smaller hallway. On the left was a tall, dark door with a sheen of dust covering the knob, and she blew it off, reaching into the pocket of her dress for a set of keys.

“Do you always have those at the ready?” he joked, and she flashed him a glare as she slid an indistinct, black key into the door, unlocking it.

The hinges creaked as they entered, and she lit a few other candles in the room as the prince took in his surroundings. “Where are we?” he asked.

“My father’s private study,” she said, not looking at him. The room was still filled with the former king’s myriad possessions: hundred year-old books, artifacts from the ancient world, and a collection of medieval swords displayed above the cobweb-filled fireplace. Her eyes were drawn to the globe and compass on the desk, and next to them an old journal, its pages yellowing. “It hasn’t been used since…” She trailed off, her gaze tightening as she turned to the prince. “There aren’t many places where you can meet someone alone in this castle without the risk of people talking.”

He crossed his arms, stepping a few paces closer to her. “So did you pretend as if you were about to fall back there, just to bring me here?”

She frowned. “No. I had planned on trying to meet with you alone, but… not in that way.”

“Well, you certainly weren’t giving off the impression that you wanted company,” he said. “If anything, the way you bolted out of the room the first chance you got—I figured I just got lucky, catching you on the way out.” He added: “No pun intended, of course.”

At her silence, he continued: “So, Elsa? To what do I owe the rare occasion of a private audience with you?” A smirk rose and fell on his lips. “The last time we spoke like this, I seem to remember you saying that it was never to be repeated.”

She took a step towards him, her eyes burning with controlled ire. “I’ve had enough of this, Hans,” she snapped, her hands pulsing at her sides. “Using my own sister to further your advances—it’s deplorable, and I won’t have it. You know how good-hearted she is – how much she wants to help people – and for you to take advantage of it for such ridiculous purposes is just—”

“Elsa, I don’t know what happened,” he interrupted, his brows stitched together in bemusement, “but I promise you that I wouldn’t ask Anna to do anything for me, let alone help me in my… advances towards you, as you put it.”

“Of course,” she sneered. “You didn’t ask her to tell me how she’d seen the way you look at me, and how you’d asked questions about me, and how you’re crazy about me, and how awful I am for ignoring you and not letting you make your case.” Her arms crackled with energy as the air grew colder. “She just made all of that up on her own, right?”

His eyes widened, and he paused when she finished, his breath visible against the dark. “You know, Elsa,” he said finally, “Anna is quite an intelligent young woman – not deaf, dumb, nor blind, as far as I can tell – and I’ve heard her make rather astute observations all week.” His brow rose. “Isn’t it possible that she’s just seeing what’s there?”

“No,” she scoffed, crossing her arms. “Which is exactly what I told her. Those feelings she talked about, they don’t just come out of thin air—they’re the product of time, of being with someone, of truly understanding them.” Her stare was hard and full of reproach. “And you don’t have any of that with me.”

His gaze back at her was patient and soft. “But I could,” he replied, “if you let me.”

She shook her head, about to offer a rebuttal, but he interjected again. “Look, I’m not going to try to convince you by saying that we’re fated or meant to be, when I don’t even believe in any of those things. I just want to get to know you, and for you to know me.” He took a step closer to her, and crossed his arms. “I can’t imagine how hard and lonely it must have been for you, growing up within these walls with so few people to talk to—and wearing those all the time, to boot,” he said, gesturing at her gloves, “even though they clearly don’t work. But I already know about your powers. In fact, I’ve known for most of my life, and I’ve never told anyone else about them. Do you know why?”

Her lip trembled as her head dipped, and she said nothing.

“I didn’t tell anyone because a long time ago, a very scared little girl asked me not to. So I didn’t.” He unwound his arms from his chest as the chill in the room diminished. “And now I am asking her to trust me again, as she once did.”

“And why should I?” she asked, sucking in a breath as she shuddered.

“Because I do know you, Elsa,” he replied in earnest. “Even if it’s just a little bit—it’s still more than what most people know.”

She scowled. “I’m more than my powers, Hans,” she said. “So if all you’re interested in is that, then—”

“Of course it’s more than that,” he cut in, and when she looked up at him, she was startled to see how little space remained between them. “Seeing how you’ve struggled for so long, and yet have come out on the other side as accomplished as you are… you’re remarkable. And you always have been.”

Taking advantage of her embarrassment at his praise, he went on. “Obviously, I won’t ever fully understand what it was like for you, here,” he acknowledged. “But… you remember how moody I was as a boy?” At her nod, he continued: “I’ve known some of what you’ve described in my own life. And I don’t want you to have to suffer like that anymore. Not if you can be your true self with someone.”

She gave him a pointed look. “That ‘someone’ being you, you mean.”

He leaned back. “If you’re comfortable with that, then yes. With me.”

She was quiet for a long time, and then pressed a finger gently to her father’s globe behind her. She spun it until she landed on a familiar territory, and then spoke. “When the fires started in the Isles, I couldn’t help but think back to that story you told me as a child,” she began, staring at the dark sphere. “When we were younger, Anna and I used to put on entire productions of that story, making up our own versions of what happened to the boy when he grew up.” She cocked her head to the side. “I used to wonder if you made the story up just for me, since I was so similar to the boy—and it frightened me, thinking that I might end up using my powers the way he did. So I would always make sure we performed happy endings.”

She paused. “After the accident, when I couldn’t play with her anymore, all I could think of was the first ending you told us: the one where the boy burns everything down.” Her look turned wistful. “Because I was alone so often, I even imagined that I could talk to him sometimes—that I could ask him why he did it, or what it felt like to hurt people.” She gazed up at him, the weight of painful memories present in her brow. “I wondered if he’d felt the way I did when I hurt Anna.”

He looked perturbed by the admission, and said nothing.

In his silence, she continued: “Eventually, I forgot about the boy, and most of the story, too. But I didn’t forget about you, Hans.” She held her face forward so that it was better lit by the candelabra on the desk. “And when I learned that you were still alive after the first fire, I had Kai and a few other advisers do some research on the Isles. I, meanwhile, read everything I could on your country’s history, politics, et cetera.”

She rotated the globe until it was facing him, and the location under her index finger became visible under the candlelight. “So I learned a few things about you, in the process: the names of all twelve of your older brothers, the tragic death of your mother in childbirth, and the nick name some of them would call you by. The ‘Unlucky Thirteenth,’ I believe.”

The prince’s tongue clicked in his mouth as his expression hardened, becoming unreadable. “Yes,” he drawled, “among others.”

“And that’s the thing, Hans,” she said. “The reports, the research, the books: the pictures they painted were fine and noble, like the ones hanging in the gallery, and you really had to look hard at them to see the bits of darkness at the edges.” She stared at the wall behind him, upon which just such an old royal portrait of her grandfather hung. “They gave an impression of who you were, but… the only real thing I had to hold onto all these years were my memories of you as a boy, and I didn’t feel like I could trust anything else.” Her eyes flickered to meet his. “Not until we’d met again, and I could see you for myself—find out who you’d become.”

His jaw was tight at her speech. “And what do you think now, Elsa?”

Her head tilted as she regarded his features, half in shadow. “I think I still didn’t really understand much about you, until tonight—until you started guessing at what my life has been like.” Her gaze was relentlessly probing. “I realized that you probably see yourself in me; that you see your childhood in mine, and think that is why we should understand each other. Why we should… be with each other. Isn’t that right, Hans?”

He smiled a little. “I think I underestimated you, Elsa,” he replied. “And I think you underestimate yourself, as well. You’re magnificent.”

The queen’s face flushed at the compliment. “You’re trying to distract me with flattery,” she snapped. “It won’t work.”

“I know it won’t,” he agreed, still smiling. “I just wanted to see you blush.” At her annoyed look, he said in a more serious way: “You’re right, of course: I saw our shared tragic pasts as a way in, and I’m using it to try to get closer to you.”

She blinked in surprise at the confession, and he continued before she could reply: “But is that such a bad thing? To actually talk about it?” He stepped forward again, and the distance between them shrunk to a foot. “It’s like you said: we hardly know each other, even with all the books and research – which, if you haven’t already guessed, I’ve done as well on you and your country – but it seems as though we have a few things in common, even if you are loathe to admit it.”

She found her face craning up to look at him before she could stop herself from doing so. “I suppose we do,” she conceded, her voice hushed. “But…”

“What is it?���

Her eyes closed tightly shut. “I could hurt you,” she said. “I could hurt you, and I wouldn’t know how to make it better.” They reopened with effort, blinking back tears. “I can’t keep you – or anyone – safe from it.”

“And I’m not asking you to,” he said, “because I’m not afraid.” He held out a hand towards her. “Here,” he said, “let’s shake on it. Then you’ll know I mean it.”

She stared at his hand with hesitation, and then moved hers towards it, her posture stiffening. He nudged his hand back an inch, and clicked his tongue again.

“The gloves, Elsa.”

She looked down at her hand, and then back at him with a frown. “You got to keep yours on last time, if I remember correctly.”

A smile passed across his face. “Yes, I did,” he agreed, “but this is different. This is me saying that I trust you.” He held his hand out again. “Do you trust me?”

Her breathing grew shakier as she considered his question, staring down at her hands as they nervously rubbed together. After what seemed like an eternal pause, she removed the glove from her left hand, finger by finger, until her skin was completely bare.

The sight of it caused her to tremble as she raised her hand to his, placing it against his palm. His grip was careful but firm, and also warm—so warm, in fact, that she withdrew her hand a few moments later.

Her skin tingled even as she slid her glove back onto her hand, but her gaze eventually found its way back towards him. She inhaled sharply. “We should go,” she said, “or else—”

“People will start talking?” he finished with a slight grin. “Yes, you said before. And I think you’re right,” he agreed, offering her his arm. “Shall we?”

The queen refused it, though without her previous sternness. “No, thank you. But…” She fidgeted under his stare, and went to busy herself with dousing the candles she had lit around the room. “I wouldn’t mind if we spoke again, like this.” Her nose wrinkled as she held in a sneeze from a cloud of dust that was kicked up after she blew out the last candle. “But perhaps not in here.”

His eyes seemed to twinkle as he held in a laugh. “I’d like that.”

She took up her original candelabra as he opened the door, and after checking that the hallway remained clear, he motioned for her to come out and lock the door again.

Slipping the keyring back in her pocket, she sighed in relief, standing next to him by the second entrance to the gallery. “If you go through there, you’ll be able to make it back to the main hall without too much trouble,” she told him, nodding in that direction.

“And you?” he asked, staring down the small hallway.

She allowed herself a half-smile. “I’m retiring for the evening. I suggest you do the same.”

He bowed, his grin dissolving. “As you wish, Your Majesty.”

She acknowledged the gesture with a small nod, and waited for him to enter the gallery before staring down at the red carpet beneath her, her left hand rising from her side into her field of vision.

Even while gloved, her fingertips were pulsing, as if licked by flames.

[flamingo-writes]

You’ll Still Be Mine — Law x Reader

Summary: After losing Ace in the Paramount War, and being saved y the Heart Pirates, you notice how Trafalgar Law has a certain interest in you. The rest of the Heart Pirates notice the special treatment you receive from the captain, and they can’t help but wonder what’s gotten into their captain. 

Word Count: 2.5K

A/N: I have no clue why I took so long to write this xD I’ve been thinking of this all week long and took approximately five days to write it. This week was way too stressing for me, I’ve hardly been able to write due to the stress. Anyways, have some Law, I know you’re all thirst for this emo cutiepie. 

Warnings: a little bit of angst, mentions of death, smut. Of course, Marineford Spoilers in case you haven’t gotten to that part and in case you haven’t read the summary xD

So much had been taken away from you after the Paramount War. For starters, your brother. Seeing Ace falling on the ground broke your heart at once. All that adrenaline collapsed, and what followed were bitter tears, and a pain that you’d never felt before. A new acquired hole in your chest. 

The sound of Luffy crying loudly only fed that pain, like poison burning your entire body with denial. The echo rumbling through your bones, consuming what was left of your sanity.

However, over time, Ace’s departure still felt surreal, the pain, however, was still fresh. But you could see, you could feel a very slight improvement. Maybe it was Law. 

After you escaped with Luffy and the Heart Pirates, you didn’t take long before befriending Law. And it all happened while Luffy was in the Intensive Care Unit in the submarine, the first 72 hours after the incident. 

“How come you’re Luffy’s sister?” Law asked incredulous after talking to you for 20 minutes. 

“Why is it so hard to believe?” You giggled rather amused.

“You’re so serene and controlled. You actually say smart things…” Law said lying back on his seat as he looked at you. 

“I was the oldest sister, the one watching over three little tornadoes” 

“Three?” Law raised his eyebrow.

“Doesn’t matter” You quickly added, avoiding his stare “I still have one little tornado to look after...and I’m glad I do. If I’d lost Luffy too, I’d definitely gotten mad…” 

“I’m sorry, [Name]-ya” He purred.

“I am too, Law. But we can’t change the past, there’s no point in keep crying about it” You said swallowing down the lump on your throat. 

Law had been very nice to you. Or maybe it was that instant chemistry between the two of you. He was gentle, and always tried to distract you whenever he found you crying by Luffy’s bed. In the first 36 hours of knowing him, he’d given you coffee, tea, and sat with you to talk about everything else, keeping your mind busy. And you appreciated it. 

“Why are you so nice to me, Law?” 

“I’m a doctor. I’m supposed to help those in need. Besides, I like you. You’re clever, and from what you’ve told me, you sound like someone to not mess with. I mean, you kept up with Ace-ya and Luffy-ya’s bullshit for years, that’s admirable on its own…" 

I like you, he had said in a friendly matter. Or at least that was what you both believed. At least until one of those many times Law found you crying, he held you tightly as you continued to cry with your face hidden in the crook of his neck. A week or so after meeting him 

"[Name]-ya, listen to me" He purred, breaking the hug, but holding your face in his hands. "Do you think this is what Ace would've wanted? Having you cry every day for him, suffer every day for him? He's gone, and we can't change that. But you've gotta stay strong, you are very strong, [Name]-ya…" 

You leaned closer, resting your forehead against his cheek. You kept crying silent tears for a few seconds before looking up, back at Law. Your nose brushing his, as his dark grey eyes looked into yours. 

"After losing Sabo, I promised myself I wouldn’t let Luffy or Ace get hurt” You mouthed. Law had no clue who Sabo was. But easily filled in the blank by himself. He didn’t ask. 

“Stop torturing yourself, [Name]-ya” Law whispered. “You said it before, crying won’t fix things…” 

As the two of you kept whispering back and forth, still very close to each other, the crew gathered around the infirmary door, where they all tried to peek inside. This behaviour in their captain was so unreal. Law cared for his patients, like any doctor did. But he never even when to see them without a medical reason. However, he’d go to see you every once in a while just to have a chat. They knew their captain liked you. And that alone was so weird inside their heads. They didn’t even know Law was capable of being like that towards someone. 

“They’re kissing! Oh my god, they are kissing!” Penguin whispered a gasp. 

The crew still tried to remain silent but fought for their chance to slip a sneak. And as everyone got to see it, everyone muttered, both fascinated and terrified. 

The kiss tasted rather salty, as your tears made their way down your cheeks towards your lips. Still, the taste of coffee could be felt in Law’ mouth as his tongue teasefully caressed your lower lip. Slow and gentle. 

Breaking the kiss, Law’s nose brushed yours as he looked down at you. 

“Wanna go to my room, [Name]-ya?” He purred as his dark grey eyes lingered on yours. 

You were surprised by his question, not expecting him to be so straightforward. You knew what he meant by it, and the thought made your heart race fast and hard against your chest. You didn’t answer, however, you nodded, without being able to look away from him. 

The crew quickly dissipated from the infirmary room and all went to hide somewhere or pretend they were doing anything else but spy on Law. As the two of you left the infirmary, walking hand in hand, Law noticed how there was a trace of awkwardness expiring from everyone around except the two of you. Law then knew what his crew mates had been up to something, something he knew he didn’t want to know. 

Once in his room, the crew slowly gathered together, this time outside the closed bedroom door, mumbling and whispering. They were preparing for the worst. Whenever Law spent the night with someone, it was always loud. And by how it sounded like, it was rough. It was unbearable whenever Law brought someone into the Polar Tang while visiting an island. 

However as time went by, and nothing was heard yet. No violent rocking, no loud moaning, no screaming, no nothing. Bepo pressed his ear against the door, hoping to hear something. 

“Do you hear something?” Shachi kneelled next to Bepo.

“Yes” The bear answered, focusing n what he could hear. 

“What is it?” Penguin followed.

“Uhm….moans…” Bepo answered, clearly awkward from spying on Law. 

“That’s it?” Another pirate asked. 

“That’s it” 

The entire crew, more puzzled than ever exchanged looks. Their curiosity was killing them, usually, they hated to hear whatever happened inside Law’s room. But since he’d been acting very different around you, now everyone was dying to know what was going on inside. 

And what was going on inside was not precisely slow. It was both gentle and yet lustful. The way had you pinned against a wall, kissing your neck, biting you, sucking on your skin, made you moan delicious sounds to his ears. His hands were exploring the skin underneath your shirt, as he teased your skin, painting goosebumps as he went up and down your back, up and down your sides. Every now and then brushing our breast. 

“Law…” You whispered breathless as he kept nibbling on your neck. 

“Yes, babe?” His voice, oh, the way his voice hissed so silently, so lowly, made your knees weaker. “Tell me, darling. Let me hear your voice” He stole a kiss from your lips. 

You proceeded to take off your shirt and grab one of his hands, placing it over one of your breasts, as you leaned closer to Law. 

“Touch me” You mouthed. “Please” And just like he’d done before, you stole a kiss from him. 

His hand quickly tightened around your breast, squeezing it gently. Massaging it, he drew circles around your nipple with his thumb. 

“Impatient, are we?” He hissed as he broke apart and grabbed you by the waist, guiding you to the bed. As you laid on the bed, Law crawled on top of you,kissing his way up your belly. Lingering on your breast, where his teeth began teasing your nipple. 

The way you moaned, brushing his hair and neck, the way your body reacted to his. He was used to use others to please his needs. But something about you caught his attention. And boy, he hadn’t realized he’d been craving the taste of your lips, and now he wanted to savour the entirety of your body. However, for once, he was more eager to please you, keep prompting thouse breathless erotic sounds that came out of your mouth. Feeding into his own hunger. 

Soon, he couldn’t fight the urge to undress you and before you realize it, you were completely naked, at his mercy as he was kissing your thighs, making his way up. You felt your head get hotter and hotter as Law got close towards your sex. 

“If you want me to stop at any point, [Name]-ya, just tell me” Law purred. 

As much of a kinky guy he was, consent was important to him. And he always asked as part of his routine. 

“Do-don’t stop, Law…” 

Those three words made a grin spread through his face as he kissed your clit before his tongue started playing, exploring your folds with skilled passion. Quickly, your sight got blurry as everything you were aware of was Law igniting your body. 

“Bepo, what’s going on?” One of the pirates on the other side of the door murmured. 

“Still moaning, a few whispers every now and then, but I can’t hear what they’re saying…” 

“Do you think she bewitched the captain?” Penguin whispered. 

“Up to this point, I wouldn’t doubt it…” 

The pirates kept murmuring, intrigued, curious. Bepo’s blood suddenly got cold when the sounds suddenly stopped, followed by approaching steps. As the mink tried to crawl away from the door terrified of what was going to happen next, the crew looked at the bear, frowning confused at how Bepo’s eyes were cold with fear. Before anyone could ask, the door opened, and it was then that everyone knew why Bepo suddenly began acting the way he did. 

“Do you mind?!” Law growled in a low voice. 

In a matter of seconds, no one was there. Everyone had fled to every other corner of the submarine, suddenly afraid of their captain. After everyone was gone, Law chuckled slightly amused by how their faces changed in a fraction of a second. He turned around, closing the door behind him, as his gaze returned to you, as you lied shaky on his bed. 

“Everything okay?” You whispered trying to catch your voice. 

“Yes, don’t worry…” He hissed walking back to the bed as he unbuttoned his black shirt and let it fall on the floor. Before he got on the bed, he undid his belt and his jeans as he slid them off his narrow waist. 

Crawling on the bed, he didn’t take his eyes off you, like a predator savouring his prey. 

“Where were we?” He purred as he kissed your things, placing them over his shoulders before continuing his trail of kisses up your belly and chest. Bringing your legs to your chest along with him. He finally met your lips. His tongue quick to tease yours. 

“Law” You breathed. “I want you” 

“Such a hasty little girl, aren’t you” He purred as he took off his underwear and lined up himself against your sex. “I want you to look at when I claim you as mine, darling” 

Your eyes, fogged with lust met his. The look in them spoke volumes. He was as impatient as you were, he was savouring this moment as his glare lingered on yours before he pushed himself deep in a quick thrust. 

You moaned louder than before as you felt him stretch your walls so sudden. Law, on the other hand, he grunted, fascinated by your wet warmth engulfing him so tightly, so deliciously. He took a few seconds before he went for another thrust, almost pulling out and going as deep as he could, stealing another embarrassingly loud moan. Soon, establishing a pace that was both too erratic, too desperate for the both of you. 

Law, was going crazy over how good you felt around him. That beastly instinct possessed him. Normally, he was the kind of lover to push his counterpart over the edge over and over again with such tease it was torturous, until they were begging. You on the other hand, he couldn’t keep that cool controlled mask on. He wanted to taste every inch of you, explore every inch of you, claim every last fibre of your body as his. 

As much as he hated it, he came first, but he didn’t stop there, he was determined to push you over the edge. And shortly after he climaxed, you followed, tightening around his even harder as your entire body shook, electrified by such  a spontaneous and intense orgasm. Your nails clawing to his back, as he bit your neck one last time, as both of your bodies seemed to relax, still tangled together. 

“Oh, Law” You gasped, breathing heavily. “God, I feel jealous of each and everyone of your previous lovers” 

“Same back at ya, babe” He purred sliding out, and lying on the bed next to you. “The things you do to me…” 

“Come again?” 

“Normally I’m not that impatient...something about you drives me crazy…” 

“You say that to everyone you bring here, Trafalgar Law” 

“Actually no. Normally I bring them here and once I’m done, off they go…But you?” He said gazing at you from the corner of his eye, as you both lied on your backs. “I’m not done with you, and even if I were, I wouldn’t let you go so easily...” 

“So you’re holding me hostage?” 

“Hmmm” He hummed. “I don’t think so. You came here voluntarily, and you’re still here because you want to” You didn’t answer back, and as time went by, his grin extended across his smile. “So, what is it going to be, [Name]-ya? Are you going to stay?”

“You’ll have to convince me” You said playfully. 

Law chuckled and rolled to his side, as he slowly made his way on top of you. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you trapped him there as he leaned closer, kissing you slowly. You tried cupping his face in your hands, however, he pinned them down to the pillow as the kiss got more and more heated up.  

“I can make you feel better whenever you’re feeling down...or whenever you feel like it” He whispered breaking the kiss. “Stay…” He mouthet. 

“Are you...telling me to become one of you?” You looked into his grey eyes, as he kept pinning you down. 

“What do you say?” 

“I don’t know...” You sighed “I’d hate lo leave Luffy…He’s the only family I’ve got left…I’m sorry, Law”

“You don’t have to apologise…” Law added.

“Law, how much longer are you staying here in Amazon Lili?” 

“At least another week” 

“Let’s make the most out of that week, how about that?” 

“You’re going to make it harder to part ways, but I said I wasn’t going to let you go that easily, so, deal” He said leaning closer, kissing you once more, as if that kiss sealed the agreement. “Don’t forget, even when I’m gone, you’ll still be mine, got it?” 

“Aye, aye, doctor” You hummed into his lips.