#gray fanficton

[godsfavdarling]

my masterlist

I mainly focus on my own ideas, but if you enjoy my writing and have a request, feel free to drop me a message!

Spencer Reid

one-shots

series

future ideas

[bunnymermaidwrites]

Happy birthday!!!❤️

Also, it's the anniversary of my first Knights of the Alder fanficton! Isn't that fun?

For this special day, I thought we should revisit the Knights of the Alder Leader Aiden au!

I hope you like it❤️

All the characters belong to @writerfae

Of masks and crowns

Talon was born and raised in gold, bathed and showered in the precious shade of yellow since he was a child. All the way from his armor to his very eye color. And while this left him with many unidentifiable feelings, with a knot of snakes eating their own tails, that he did not wish to untie, lest he get himself bit, there were teachings from that time he still treasured.

He valued the magical sounds that he could summon from his violin with just his fingers. He held dear the slashes, and stabs, and perries of his sword that he learned to perform with ease. And, at the moment, he was most grateful for the dance lessons that were such an annoyance in his youth.

Back then, it always cunjured a boring, even sour taste in his mouth. To imagine himself with young ladies of who knew what sort, trying to avoid stepping on each other's feet, while there were other things he could be spending his time on. Ones that had much more use, such as being out there in shining armor, just like in the books his mother would read to him at night.

He supposed that back then, he simply didn't have the imagination to think up something like this.

Aiden, his one and only king, standing across from him in the middle of an emty ballroom, save for a silent musician. Black robes embroidered with the finest silver thread, painting beautiful swirls across the fabric. Tree bark brown curls falling onto his forehead from under the leaves that decorated his treasured crown. Right now, half of his face was hidden behind a beautiful mask.

His king wished for them to sneak into a masquerade that was to be held at the very heart of the Willow Court. Talon wasn't sure if that was such a good idea, fearing for Aiden's safety if they were to be discovered. At the same time, he knew, and so did everyone else, that when he was near, no harm could come to the Alder king. The others didn't call him his guard dog for nothing.

And now here they were. Holding a grand rehearsal of sorts, just him and Aiden, wearing ceremonial robes, and all, complete with two intricately made masks.

Talon thought that that would make him upset. To be unable to gaze upon the face that he just knew was sculpted by gods. Yet, when it was concealed like this, Aiden looked mysterious. Alluring, like a siren, who hides her telltale gills behind luscious hair, lest they give away her deadly secret too early.

He took Aiden's waist in one hand, grasping the elegant curve carefully, for it was oh so precious, he wouldn't dare risk breaking it. They tuched their palms together, a leaf resting on the surface of a lake. Then, the music burst to life like a fountain.

Talon pulled his lover to its rhythm, leading him across the dance floor.

On the gray ceiling hung a crystal chandelier. Its light rained down on the two people like ice in a big storm, like small, shiny dimonds.

The new Alder king, a sprout who seemingly just grew out of a dying tree, let himself be pushed and pulled, gently guided, completely trusting Talon to lead him. He couldn't ever not.

The music curled around them like vines, sweet as the wine that's made from its grapes.

Talon let go of his waist, and Aiden spun, grays and browns of the room blurring together in his vision. But the guard's other hand never let go. Neither did his own. As their arms extended to their full lengths, Aiden felt like he was holding onto a rope, and the rope was holding him in return. Then Talon pulled him close once more.

The music led them through the ballroom, echoing, the world emty, only the fae and the halfling existing. The song yanked them this way and that way, like a rowdy, playful child.

Aiden knew that his expression at the moment could be impassive. A strong branch, unmoved even by the wildest storm. Yet, he didn't worry. He need not, for his lover, his sharp guard saw through the blackest curtain, the thickest stone, the oldest tree with the most roots. He knew that Talon could see his smile, even if no one else did.

They stepped and twirled, and Aiden nearly chuckled. He could already picture his brother's face upon seeing the two of them.

That is...

Talon leaned down, the masks on the tips of their noses knocking into each other, chiming like a bell.

...If he noticed them.

The end

[boxofbonesfic]

Pattycakes (Chapter 8)

Title: Pattycakes

Summary: Like they say, it really does just take one time... Patricia Hodgins knows that better than anyone. She’s got even worse luck when it comes to her child’s father: Billionaire playboy Thor Odinson. He’s selfish and manipulative; and Patty’s not sure which outcome frightens her more—killing him or letting him worm his way into her heart.

Pairing: Thor x Black OFC

Rating: Explicit

Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 // Chapter 5// Chapter 6// Chapter 7//

**Warnings: Manipulation, Possessive behavior, oral sex (m!recieving, Age Difference (significant but not extreme), Stalking (light stalking though lol), Past Relationships, Class drama, Dad!Thor, Character improvement **

**A/N: **JESUS. this chapter is just under 14k words, so that explains why it’s taken so fricken long to write and (attempt to) edit. thank you so much for reading, i know this is far from my most popular fic, but it’s my baby 🥺. thank you all so much for your patience, and for reading!! This is a work of FICTION, and it contains adult themes, some of which are dark, so I assume once you’ve clicked through the link that you are comfortable with that. I do not give consent for my work to be copied, translated, or posted elsewhere, even if I am credited. This work is entirely mine, and unbeta’d, so read at your own risk! 😘 MINORS, DNI!

🍼

Chapter 8: Puzzle Pieces

Patricia’s brother discovers her secret, and Thor makes a game plan. 

Patricia had never felt particularly bad for celebrities who struggled to deal with tabloids and paparazzi, but as the elevator doors opened and she was blinded by the flash of a camera before she could even exit it, she thought maybe she could relate. She scowled, covering her eyes as she gripped Amelia’s hand tighter. 

 “Miss Hodgins, I’d like to ask you a few questions about your relationship with Thor Odinson, is that alright?” Her vision was still spotty, but Patty glared at him, stepping in front of Amelia, lest he try to take her picture too, which was the last thing they needed. It was a small favor that the photos Idunn had released were focused on Patty and Thor instead of Amelia, but she was thankful for that small grace. He reached for her arm, and she jerked away from him roughly. 

 “No, it’s not.” Patricia shouldered past the reporter with Amelia in tow, the charms on her backpack clinking together as she rushed outside. Don’t talk. Don’t say anything, Thor had advised seriously. Whatever you say, they’ll twist it. Don’t talk to any of them without me. For once, she took him seriously—he’d dealt with this before, though he’d admitted it had never quite been this bad. The young man she’d pushed by was persistent, continuing after her. 

 “Ma’am, please, it’s just a few questions, our readers are very curious—” He grabbed at her elbow, and Patty wrenched herself away angrily. Amelia made an upset noise in the back of her throat, and Patricia whirled on him. 

 “You’re upsetting my daughter, leave us the hell alone!” She looked around wildly, her eyes panicked. Where was security? What was the point in Thor forcing her out of her apartment if  assholes like this could still bother them whenever they wanted? Patricia picked up Amelia, grunting a little as she hoisted her onto her hip. Her outburst, it seemed, finally got the attention of one of the security guards in the lobby. It was the older man, Norman; and he heaved an irritated sigh as he placed a hand on the man’s shoulder. 

 “Son, I can’t have you harassing residents.” Patty could hear him complaining as she sped away, peeking over her own shoulder to make sure he was well and truly detained. She could feel Amelia’s small hands pulling at her, trying to get her attention. 

 “Mommy who that man?” Amelia asked, her lip trembling. “Why he do that?” 

 “He—I—” Patricia was flustered, her heart beating rapidly as she sped out of the lobby and into the street. Her pulse was roaring in her ears, and all of the people around her were unfocused blurs she couldn’t waste time or energy trying to identify. The switch between panic and protect seemed stuck squarely in the middle, with Patty unable to turn it off as she sped down the sidewalk, clutching Amelia to her heaving chest. 

 What could Patricia possibly tell Amelia that she would understand and believe? ‘Baby your father—who you just learned is your father—is a fucking psuedo celebrity, and now the entire world knows we’ve been living in sin’ seemed just a bit too complex for a three year old to grasp. 

 “Mommy, who that was?” Amelia asked again, her voice insistent. She couldn’t even process it, or begin to formulate an answer. She held Amelia a little tighter, suddenly paranoid. What if there were more of them following her? Taking pictures? Patricia wasn’t even going toward the train anymore, convinced that if she did, she’d be cornered down there among strangers, and no one would lift a finger to help. “Mommy?”

 “I don’t know!” Patricia snapped loudly, instantly regretting it as Amelia’s wide blue eyes welled with tears. “Oh baby, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Mommy should never have yelled at you like that.” Patricia normally prided herself on her patience with Amelia, but today it had worn thin. Worst of all, it hadn’t even been her fault. She didn’t realize she was crying until Amelia reached up to wipe a small, clumsy hand through her mother’s frustrated tears. 

 “Are we go to school now, mommy?” She asked, and Patty gulped down a breath of air before shaking her head. 

 “No sweetheart. I think we’re going to stay home today. Mommy will stay home too.” She kissed Amelia’s forehead. Patty felt dizzy—would it be safe to go back to the apartment now? Were there other reporters? She was too nervous to go back, especially by herself. Patty fumbled with her free hand, digging her phone out of her purse with trembling fingers. She couldn’t call Wanda, who was most certainly already at work, nor could she call America—what help would she be, all the way in D.C? She was tapping on Thor’s contact info before she knew it, pulling up the call button and hitting it with trembling fingers. 

 “Hello? Patty? What’s wrong?” 

 “Thor, can you come meet me at the park? Please?” Her voice was shaky, and Amelia made a nervous noise. A sharp intake of breath through the receiver told her he’d heard it too. 

 “Which entrance?”

 “72nd street.” 

 “Give me five minutes.”

 The line went dead, and Patricia tried to calm her racing heart. She’d gone to bed last night knowing that everything was going to be different, but she hadn’t realized just how quickly that was set to take effect, just how disruptive it was going to be. How unfair. 

 “Mommy?”

 “What’s wrong babes?” Patty asked, looking down at her daughter with a watery smile. 

 “Don’t be sad, mommy. Daddy comin’.” Her throat tightened, even as warmth spread through her at Amelia’s simple attempt to comfort her. Patty wondered—not for the first time, either—what Amelia made of her and Thor together. They were a family, and Amelia knew that, but what it meant to her, she still wasn’t sure. Clearly Amelia had seen something between them if she thought the idea of her father’s presence would be as comforting to Patricia as it was to her. She put Amelia down and hugged her tightly. 

 “I know, Mels. I…” She trailed off. “Sweetheart, there are going to be more people like that. Who try to talk to mommy, sometimes even you.” 

 “Why?” She cocked her head at Patricia, looking up at her confusedly. 

 “Because of Thor’s job, sweetheart. It’s… Oh geez. Daddy comes from a very…famous family. And because of that, sometimes people follow him around and try to take pictures and ask him questions.” Patricia pinched the bridge of her nose as she tried to explain—hating that she even had to. “And we don’t talk to them.”

 “Why?” Amelia asked again. 

 “Because they’re strangers. And remember, we don’t talk to strangers, right?” She hoped that would be enough to placate Amelia’s intent questioning. She was a smart kid—too smart, sometimes—and Patty knew this wouldn’t be the end of it forever. 

 “Yes, mommy. I ‘member.” She said, nodding seriously. Patricia opened her mouth to say something else, but the sound of her own name distracted her. 

 “Patty.” Thor was striding up to them quickly, his hair still damp from the shower. On his handsome face was genuine concern, and his eyes traveled quickly over both of them, checking them over. “What happened? You sounded scared.” 

 “We…” Now that she’d calmed down, it seemed a little embarrassing. “There was a reporter in the lobby, and he was really pushy. It kind of freaked me out, and… I don’t think I want Amelia to go to school today.” She finished lamely, looking at his chest instead of his face. It was easier than seeing the true worry on his features. Patty hadn’t had much time to consider the events of the night before—waking up with Thor had been both terrifying and comforting. 

 “He was mean,” Amelia piped up from beside her, stomping her jelly-sandaled foot on the ground and distracting Patricia from her thoughts. “He made mommy cry!” Thor crouched in front of them, reaching out to ruffle Amelia’s hair as he peered up at Patricia, frowning.

 “He did, hmm?” Thor replied, looking up at Patricia expectantly. Patty sighed.

 “I was just… It was the first time I ever dealt with anything like that. He was pushy, and Amelia was starting to fret and I just…” She made an exploding gesture with her hands, sighing again. Now I definitely wish I’d called Wanda instead. “It freaked me out.” Thor stood, dusting off his knees. 

 “You should have come back home,” He said sternly, and Patricia frowned. One step forward, three steps back, she thought irritatedly as she grabbed Amelia’s hand. “They wouldn’t have followed you back upstairs.” Thor began to lead the two of them out of the park, his hand firmly on the small of Patty’s back. 

 “I just wanted to get away from them. Maybe next time you should walk us down, since you’re the expert,” She snapped. Thor looked over his shoulder at her imperiously, and she was reminded of why she despised him so much in the first place. 

 “Would you have even listened?” He sighed, and Patricia fumed. “Come now, let’s not argue.” It was that, that know-it-all attitude coupled with his normal haughtiness that made Patty want to scream. She swallowed it for the sake of peace—not Thor’s, but Amelia’s and her own. There could be more people lurking with cameras, and the last thing they needed was to feed the tabloid monster that Idunn had created. It seemed even more unfair when she thought about the fact that it wasn’t even her fault they were in this situation in the first place. 

 It was all well and good to want her, but Thor wanted a lot of things, and he hadn’t been willing to change for any of them. How could she possibly be any different?  Patty contented herself with staring hatefully at the back of his golden head while they walked back to the apartment, Amelia chattering the whole way. The lobby was empty of suspicious people when they got back, and when they got into the elevator Patricia sagged against the wall, suddenly exhausted. It was still morning, but she felt like she hadn’t slept at all the night before. Her face heated when she remembered she really hadn’t. 

 When the doors opened, Amelia skipped out, dropping her backpack in the entryway. Patty sighed, picking it up as she passed. “Mels, what did we say about picking up after ourselves?” She called, forcing her face to remain stern as Amelia bashfully poked her head around the corner. 

 “That we have to be ‘esponse-table?” She said after a moment, kicking her foot against the floor. 

 “Responsible. Yes. So please take your bag to your room, and then you can go play.” Patty instructed tiredly. It wasn’t often that she lost patience with Amelia, and though the stress of the morning was partially to blame, she vowed to do better next time. Patty made her way into the kitchen and sat tiredly at the table, before pulling her phone out. She didn’t much feel like going in to work either, not knowing that there were people lying in wait to get more ammunition for the rumor mill. She hadn’t missed a single day of work since she’d started, but the thought of going in had her stomach twisting itself into knots. 

 “Hello, Orange West?”

 It was Peter. She swallowed thickly. “Hi, Peter, it’s Patty.” She hadn’t really spoken to him since that night at the bar, keeping things fairly cordial. He was handsome, in a boy next door sort of way, with a sweetness about him that made her stomach a little fluttery. 

 “Oh, hey! Boss lady was just telling me to give you a call. You close by?” 

 “No.” She sighed. “Actually that was kind of what I wanted to tell you, I’m going to be out today. Something came up…” She trailed off. Patty wasn’t usually one to call out, even when she was sick. But today, going to work felt like an insurmountable challenge, and she just wasn’t up for it. Not to mention she still hadn’t spoken to her parents. Sooner or later they were going to see those blasted tabloids, and Patricia wanted to be ahead of the curve on that one. 

 “Oh. Okay, I mean it shouldn’t be a problem, I’ll let her know. Is…is everything okay?” The knowing note in his voice made Patricia’s stomach drop. Had he seen the pictures too? Probably. She thought bitterly. How wonderful that she now got to be the other woman, the jezebel—Idunn got to be sanctified as a woman scorned. 

 It would have been laughable if it didn’t make her so goddamn angry. 

 Patty swallowed the frustrated sigh that threatened to escape. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Thank you.” She said tightly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” She ended the call without waiting for Peter to respond, and tossed her phone onto the table with a huff. Hopefully the conversation with her parents would go better, especially when she told them the truth. As thoughts beat back and forth in her scattered brain, her phone buzzed. She swallowed the dread building in her gut. 

 🤜🏾K-Boogie🤜🏾: pat, wtf?

 Attached to the text was a screenshot of an article, titled Homewrecker or long lost love? Patty scowled. “Fucking neither,” she muttered angrily. Of course, the first she’d heard from Kaleb since Amelia’s birthday, and it was this. She hurriedly began typing back, oblivious to Thor’s looming presence over her shoulder, his bright blue eyes narrowed. Kaleb texted her faster than she could think, her phone vibrating over and over in her trembling hands. 

 🤜🏾K-Boogie🤜🏾: do mom and dad know? 

 🤜🏾K-Boogie🤜🏾: Is this guy Amelia’s dad? 

 🤜🏾K-Boogie🤜🏾: pat answer me or istg i’m gonna go postal

 Patricia: Christ, Kaleb, you text too goddamn fast

 🤜🏾K-Boogie🤜🏾: thought you said Amelia’s dad was some guy from your school? 

 Patricia: ...Clearly that’s not the case, is it?

 “Who’s Kaleb?” Thor’s quiet voice behind her made her jump, and Patricia wanted to scream in frustration. 

 “My older brother.” She snapped shortly, glaring at him over her shoulder as she held her phone closer to herself. “And I don’t know what you think being ‘together’ means, but it does not include spying on my texts.” She cut her eyes at him accusingly over her shoulder, and grew even more irate to see that he didn’t even appear particularly bothered. “I guess he saw the tabloids.” 

 Patricia: It would be a lot easier to do this in person. 

 🤜🏾K-Boogie🤜🏾: yeah, no fuckin kidding. i’m by your apartment, and it says it’s for rent in the window. 

 Patrica: ...I moved?

 🤜🏾K-Boogie🤜🏾: oh my god. 

 🤜🏾K-Boogie🤜🏾: when and where. right now, pat

 Patricia gulped. Kaleb was worse than their parents combined; he was almost as stubborn as Thor, with a temper to match. Them meeting—especially with things between them as they were, was a recipe for disaster. She definitely didn’t want to have him come over all riled up, but she had little choice. 

 “What’s wrong?” Thor leaned against the table beside her, looking down at her with a raised brow. “Not handling the news well, I take it.” There was little actual sympathy in Thor’s voice, and Patricia suspected he was feeling rather vindicated now that her little white lie had suddenly turned into a big ugly monster. 

 “Don’t enjoy it too much,” She groused. 

 “I’m doing my best to contain myself, but it is hard,” He replied, chuckling. “But I am sorry he disapproves. I think you could stand to do worse.” 

 I don’t see how. “I’ll keep that in mind,” Patricia said unconvincingly. “He wants to talk to me in person, right now, and that would mean him coming over here, and my nerves are already shot, and—” Thor cut her off mid-ramble. 

 “That’s fine. Give him the address.” Patricia looked up at him, shocked. “If he wants to see if I’m a suitable father, I’m sure he’ll find me more than adequate.” Of course Thor thought it was about money—it always was with him. Perhaps that had been the kind of relationships Odin had fostered, the example from which Thor had had to draw and also from which he’d never deviated, but it wouldn’t work Kaleb. 

 “Thor, you can’t buy him.” She sighed. “And for once, it’s not about you.” And for once, Patty wished this was a problem that actually could be solved with Thor’s money. “It’s kind of weird that your first thought is to bribe him.” 

 “Most people have a price in my experience.” Thor countered, shrugging. “Even if it isn’t money.” Patty was reminded again that he was older than she was—it was hard to see sometimes, he certainly didn’t look like he was in his mid thirties, but when he talked like that, it was hard to ignore the gap. Even if it isn’t money. 

 Patricia: Here’s the address.  

 She dropped a pin at her location.

 Patricia: Please don’t come here and start shit, it’s already been a hell of a morning. 

 🤜🏾K-Boogie🤜🏾: no promises. see you in a bit, squirt. 

 “When do I get to wake up from this nightmare?” Patricia moaned, resting her head on the table. The carefully constructed life she’d built for herself was going to pieces all around her—and Thor was helping, wielding a goddamn sledgehammer as he busted through the walls she’d made. At least he hadn’t threatened her with his nameless lawyers in the last couple of weeks, something she was thankful for. That fear, at least, had dulled to a niggling concern instead of an ever-present worry. She was glad, at least for that. 

 Amelia scampered into the room, oblivious to her mother’s distress, holding her tablet up excitedly. “Daddy, unlock it please.” She bounced on her toes, holding it out expectantly. Patty narrowed her eyes—tablet time was strictly reserved for afternoons and evenings after they’d worked a little on reading together. Thor, at least, had the decency to grin at her sheepishly, declining to take the tablet from her expectant hands. 

 “I think that’s up to mom, Amelia.” He said wisely, likely noting that Patty would have gone for his throat had he allowed it. 

 “Amelia, you know we don’t play on the tablet this early in the morning. Daddy should also know that,” She snapped, cutting her eyes at him irritatedly. “Do you want to come do a puzzle, or maybe we could—”

 Amelia shook her head, a pout forming on her little mouth. “No.” Amelia was usually a fairly cooperative kid, and Patty generally had no issues with discipline, outside of the regular and expected tantrums and testing of boundaries. But lately “no” had been entering more and more into her three year old’s vocabulary, and Patty feared they were entering the dreaded phase she’d heard about from her own mother—where everything was no, and I want, and I don’t want that! “I want to play the color game.” 

 I knew that stupid tablet was a bad idea.

 Patty didn’t have it in her to fight. The last thing she needed was a cranky Amelia, on top of two even crankier thirty-some-odd-year-old men. “Okay, let’s make a deal. You get to play on the tablet until Uncle Kaleb gets here. And then you’re gonna show him all your ponies. Deal?” She could see Amelia turning over the terms, her blue eyes calculating—like her father’s. 

 “Okay, mommy!” 

 Thor unlocked it for her, and they both watched her crash onto the couch, giggling excitedly. “She likes her tablet. And you’re in a terrible mood.” He replied bluntly, and Patricia let out a derisive laugh—of course her temper was foul. Not only had she had her first—and entirely unpleasant—interaction with the press, her brother had found out about them himself before she could break the news to him. Patty could feel the beginnings of a migraine eating away at her temples, and she rubbed them uselessly. 

 “Thanks for that astute observation.” She sighed. 

 “I live to serve.” He said dryly. 

 “More like you live to be served.” Patty shot back. Thor’s hands joined hers at her temple, and her cheeks heated at the surprisingly gentle touch. She wasn’t sure if she hated it more when he was being manipulative and selfish, or when he was being genuinely kind—both responses frustrated her, but for entirely different reasons. It was easier to pretend she didn’t like him, that he was nothing more than an unfortunate speedbump—a complication—when he was being awful. But it was the kindness that was going to be her downfall. He’d sworn last night that he wanted her, really wanted her—but she couldn’t believe that. 

 I’m afraid to believe that. 

 “Would you like me to serve you, Patricia?” He drawled, and a shiver ran down her spine at his tone. Her pussy clenched hungrily, suddenly achingly empty, and his fingers found her shoulders, still rubbing delightfully at her sore muscles. A pleased little whine made its way out of her throat, and she felt his lips press against her throat softly. 

 “No, Thor. We don’t have the time.” She hated how when he used that tone, suddenly her voice no longer wanted to cooperate, and her willpower seemed to evaporate. No, no, bad, body. Stop that. She felt him smile against her skin, and she cleared her throat. “I mean it. If Kaleb gets here and we’re going at it like rabbits, he’s not gonna like you.” Thor snorted, clearly unmoved by her threat. He wasn’t easily intimidated, but then again, neither was Kaleb. 

 “I can be fast.” The chaste kiss against her skin became hot and wet, his lips and teeth pulling at her flesh until Patty was sure he’d be leaving a mark. He seemed to like leaving marks, letting anyone who looked at her know that he’d had her. She already had hickeys littering her inner thighs from his service the night before. “And I don’t care if he likes me.” 

 “No, Thor.” She said firmly, and he sighed, though he stayed pressed against her back, his hands still moving hungrily over her skin, the pretense of a massage all but forgotten. He nipped her again, and Patty let out a quiet little moan. 

 “Certainly doesn’t sound like no.” He moved so fast, his hands were under her blouse before she had time to reply, testing the weight of each of her breasts in his hands, his thumbs moving in sure circles over her nipples. She wasn’t sure how he always managed to inflame her so easily, with just the smallest of touches. 

 “Later, Thor.” She pleaded, hating the needy note her voice took on. He heaved another put-upon sigh and reluctantly retreated, but not before giving the side of her neck another firm lick as he pinched one nipple between his fingers. Patty gasped, swatting at his hand. 

 “Later.” He said intently, and Patricia knew he intended to hold her to it. As much as she hated to admit it, his desire for her made her own blood run hot, and her pulse race. He always looked at her so hungrily, and lately it seemed like that hunger wasn’t just for the warm, wet spot at the apex of her thighs. She heaved a sigh of relief when Thor moved away, her shoulders sagging. 

 Better change before Kaleb gets here. 

 Amelia was still utterly engrossed in her tablet when Patty checked on her, her tiny body nestled into the couch pillows. Thor was busily typing away on his laptop when she returned, clad in more comfortable leggings and a tank-top. Amelia was splayed across Thor’s lap, her legs kicking as she tapped away on her screen. He absently ruffled her hair before he resumed typing, and Patty’s chest clenched. 

 “Okay, Mels. Uncle Kaleb is going to be here soon. Do you remember what we talked about?” Amelia huffed out a sigh that was all too reminiscent of Thor for Patty’s liking, before nodding as she handed over the tablet. As if on cue, her phone rang, and she raced over to the kitchen island to grab it. It was Kaleb. 

 “I’m here, I think? The doorman’s kind of an asshole.” 

 “Yeah, you’re in the right place. I’ll buzz down.” Patty made her way over to the elevator, pressing a button to let the doorman know Kaleb was on the “acceptable visitors” list. She frowned, hoping that Idunn had already been removed. The last thing they needed was a repeat of that. She shifted anxiously from foot to foot as she waited by the elevator, listening to the whirring of the mechanisms behind the door. 

 What if they hate each other? Patty chewed her lip. 

 Why do I care if they hate each other? 

 She didn’t want to think about the answer to that.

 “Long time no-see, squirt.” Kaleb’s arms were around her before Patricia even knew what was happening, lifting her off the ground. He hugged her tightly, affectionately pecking her cheek. Patty groaned uncomfortably and kicked her legs a little. 

 “K, you’re crushing me.” He released her after another squeeze, before looking down at her skeptically.  

 “Yeah, you’re lucky I don’t drag you home right now,” He muttered, his eyes traveling down Patricia’s drawn face to the marks Thor had left at her throat. Her hand came up to cover them reflexively as she looked away embarrassedly. Her work shirts normally covered any untoward marks Thor had left, but this tank top left them far too exposed. “How are you, squirt? Seriously.” His hand came up to rest comfortingly on Patty’s shoulder, though his expression remained concerned. 

 How was she supposed to answer that? 

 Yeah, I’m living with my baby-daddy in very public sin, my parents don’t know, and I’m going fucking viral. 

 “I’m tired.” Patricia sighed. “Come on in.” She watched Kaleb kick his shoes off, and run a hair through his short locs. He looked around with narrowed eyes.

 “Is he here?” He asked, frowning. “Odinson.”

 “He’s in the living room with Amelia.” 

 “You leave him alone with her?” Kaleb asked incredulously. “You’re not afraid he’s going to pump her full of champagne and adderall?” Patty swallowed a groan, rolling her eyes. Kaleb had always been like this, disapproving of every single person she dated. Just my luck that all of Thor’s mistakes have been publicly documented.  

 “K. Seriously.” She pushed at his shoulder. “He’s not so bad.” 

 God, am I actually defending him? Kaleb shrugged and grunted bad-naturedly as Patty led him into the living room. Thor was still seated there with Amelia, though he’d abandoned his own work in favor of listening to an extremely complex story she’d begun telling him about each of her toy horses. Patty snickered when relief crossed his handsome features at their entrance. 

 She could see the two of them sizing each other up, her brother’s lip curling. Patty had never felt this kind of anxiety. Sure, Kaleb had hated everyone she’d ever even thought about bringing home, but she knew the man who’d knocked her up probably had a special place on her older brother’s shit list. The only thing that had stopped him from hunting Thor down and forcing him to take responsibility was the fact that Patty had been quieter than a church mouse about his identity.

 “Uncle Kaleb!” Amelia bounced excitedly up to her uncle, who patted her head stiffly, his eyes still locked firmly on her father. “Uncle Kaleb, look my ponies!” She held them up expectantly. Kaleb leaned down to kiss her forehead. 

 “Good god, kid, how many ponies do you need?” She giggled at his exaggerated surprise. 

 “All the ponies.” Amelia replied matter-of-factly. Satisfied that he’d acknowledged her, Amelia went back to galloping their plastic hooves over Thor’s glass coffee table, crawling underneath it to continue playing. On one hand, Patty wanted to remove Amelia from the tension in the room, but on the other, she had real fear that they might haul off and punch each other if tiny eyes and ears weren’t present to witness their behavior. 

 “You must be Kaleb.” Thor said, moving his laptop aside so that he could stand. Neither one of them made a move to shake hands, simply standing a few feet apart as they observed one another. Patty felt dwarfed between the two of them, and suddenly realized that if it came to it, she probably wouldn’t be able to prevent a fight despite any effort to the contrary. 

 “And you’re Thor.” Kaleb replied with equal chill, and Patricia rolled her eyes. The pissing contest begins. “Good to finally meet you.” This time, his attitude was directed at Patricia, who pursed her lips. 

 “I’ve heard nothing but good things.” Thor lied smoothly, and Patty’s brother snorted. 

 “Really? Can’t say the same.” Kaleb drawled. 

 “Why don’t we all sit down?” Patricia replied, smoothing her hands nervously down her thighs as she sat awkwardly between them on the sectional. She wasn’t used to playing peacemaker, and it showed. “Seriously, sit. I’d rather you two didn’t start brawling.” Thor let out an uncomfortable sigh, before settling himself directly next to Patricia. Kaleb rolled his eyes at the gesture. “K?” She said expectantly, and her brother heaved an irritated sigh before settling himself onto the sofa as well. 

 “How did this even happen?” Kaleb replied, looking between Thor and Patricia with obvious confusion and something else she couldn’t quite put her finger on. It might have been amazement, if not for his obvious disdain. Disbelief, maybe, as if he expected that all of this was some elaborate lie.

 I wish. It’s just my fucking life.

 “Well, I assume you know how children are made, unless America’s sexual education has failed you abysmally like so many others.” If Patricia could have slapped Thor, she might have. She rounded on him, her eyes narrowed.

 “No. We are not doing this, sniping at one another, I can’t deal with it, and you know what? I’m not going to. If you guys start acting like toddlers, I’m going to take my actual toddler, and we’re going to leave. Got me?” She said, cutting her eyes back at Kaleb—she hadn’t missed his snide comments earlier, and though she was loathe to defend Thor, much less admit he might have been misjudged—Kaleb had come in swinging. “Children?” She asked dryly, motioning for them to answer her, and fast. 

 “Fine.”

 “Whatever.” 

 Patty pinched the bridge of her nose. “I met Thor at a bar after graduation.” She looked down at her hands, primly folded together in her lap. “It was one time.” She bit out. She hadn’t had to recount the story in so long, and it brought all of the unpleasant memories from that evening rushing back. 

 “What, s’that a habit of yours?” Kaleb asked snidely, looking at Thor with open disdain. “She’s almost ten years younger than you. Girls your age just a little too mature?” 

 “K!” 

 “Your sister doesn’t seem to have a problem with my age.” Thor snapped. “She was twenty-four, not a child.” 

 “Oh for the love of—if neither of you are going to act like adults, what’s the point?” Patricia exclaimed frustratedly, throwing her hands into the air for emphasis. “Why even come if you’re just going to attack him?” She poked an accusing finger into Kaleb’s chest. “Come on.” 

 “Sorry. Sorry. I just… Look at him.” He gestured at Thor, but spoke as if he wasn’t there. Patricia unsuccessfully stifled a giggle, and she felt her child’s father level a menacing glare at the back of her head. “He’s like a walking Abercrombie ad.” 

 “K.” She warned, knowing Thor wouldn’t tolerate being mocked very well. The tight hand on her thigh told her she might have to answer for her crimes later as well. 

 “You’re one to talk,” Thor grumbled. 

 “So that explains how Amelia happened—which, as an older brother, I have to say; I should have kicked your ass—but can you explain why you’re living together now? And why TMZ has run three fucking articles about it?” 

 “Kaleb, you weren’t kicking anyone’s ass from Detroit,” Patty retorted. 

 “My… ex wasn’t pleased to find out that Patricia and I had reconnected.” More like she was pissed you started fucking me in the middle of your long unoffcial engagement. Thor was always so diplomatic—and though there were kernels of truth to his statement, Patty held her tongue to keep from outing the lies. Well, not lies exactly, but if she painted a completely clear picture of she and Thor’s fraught and frankly dysfunctional relationship, neither Kaleb nor her parents would ever accept it. “Idunn is attempting to use the media to force us back together.” 

 Patty knew Thor wasn’t going to want to disclose exactly how much he’d lost by simply not cowing, but Kaleb’s trite attitude was starting to get under her skin too. It was like he was punishing her for not telling the truth, and as much as Patty loved and looked up to him, it certainly wasn’t his place to do so. She was an adult, and her decisions were just that—her decisions.

 “The way she tells it, you’ve got a love-child and a mistress, and you two have been off and on behind her back for the past three years.” Kaleb held up a placating hand when Patty shot him a look that promised violence. “I’m just summarizing.” 

 “Yeah, well, I’ve read the damn articles, so you don’t have to. K, I was living with mom and dad up until three months ago. Don’t you think they would have noticed me sneaking a viking upstairs for three years?” She retorted. It actually…stung to have Kaleb questioning her like this, especially considering the messes she’d helped him cover up. She knew part of it was his overprotective older brother instinct, but that didn’t make it hurt any less to know he was disappointed in her. “And as much as you might think differently, I don’t owe you every scrap of information about my life.”

 Kaleb looked taken aback, and Patty took a single moment to gloat in it before continuing. “I didn’t know anything. A cute, older guy bought me a drink and then suddenly I was fucking pregnant, and everyone was asking who the father was, where he was, why isn’t he here.” She let out a toneless laugh. “And I didn’t know what to tell anyone that would make them look at me like less of a failure.” Patty suddenly wished she could pull the angry admission back into the recesses of her mind where it belonged. Thor brushed a comforting thumb in circles over her knee as she jiggled it anxiously. 

 “Nobody said you were a failure, Pat.” 

 “Nobody had to.” She sighed, clenching her fists on her thighs. It was true, her parents had never once expressed disappointment in their firstborn daughter for deviating from the path they’d hoped she’d take, but it didn’t stop Patty from seeing the wistful sighs as her parents discussed what their friends’ kids were doing. Or the hushed conversations they thought she didn’t hear, wondering how to help her “get it together”. “It was my decision to keep it a secret, and while it may not have been the best choice in the long run, it was my call and I made it. Thor is here, Kaleb. He’s part of Amelia’s life, and I don’t think that’s changing any time soon.”

 A look of irritated resignation crossed her brother’s face, and while she knew it was far from over, he seemed placated enough for the moment to stop needling her. What was more, was that Patty could tell Thor didn’t like it either, glaring at her brother like he wanted to hit him. “How are you going to tell the ‘rents?” He asked, lifting an eyebrow. 

 “I was hoping maybe you could help with that?” Patricia clasped her hands together pleadingly. Kaleb didn’t bother to hide his long suffering sigh, or the look on his face that said he would rather be doing anything else. “It’s not like I can make a banner that says ‘surprise, I found my kid’s father’.”

 “I mean…”

 “K!” 

 “Fine… what about Uncle Henry’s barbecue next week? You could bring him to that.” Kaleb turned to Thor. “You eat regular people food, right? Like we don’t have to have any caviar on deck or anything, right?” Patricia stifled the ugly snort that threatened to break free, but only barely. It was inevitable that Thor would meet her parents, she’d known that when he’d taken her to dinner what seemed like ages ago now. But now that the moment was finally here, the thing she was most concerned about—other than admitting to her parents that she’d never told the father of her child that she even existed—was them meeting. 

 “I would be happy to meet your family.” Thor replied pointedly. Patty could hear the rest of his sentence with perfect clarity in her thoughts—Because I’m not going anywhere. It seemed Kaleb was much more on-brand with plan drive him so crazy he leaves than she herself was. Maybe he and Wanda have been hanging out. “It’s long overdue.” 

 “If you were this happy to meet the folks three years ago, we wouldn’t be here right now—”

 “Uncle Kaleb! I drawed you a picture,” Amelia cut in decisively, brandishing the drawing she’d been busily working on under the coffee table for the last half hour. A good thing, too, because Patty wasn’t sure if she could keep her brother and Thor from baiting each-other much longer. Patricia had practically perfected her poker face, a necessity with any art-motivated toddler. Kaleb, however, clearly hadn’t, as his eyes widened in shock and his mouth trembled as he struggled to hold in his laughter. “This you,” She said, pointing to the figure in the center. 

 He was wearing Kaleb’s red hoodie, and his locs stuck straight up on top of his light-bulb shaped head. A wide grin with far too many teeth was crudely drawn onto the face, and his hands—which looked remarkably like spiders—were thrown up into the air as if he was excited. 

 “I...love it?” He replied unconvincingly, and Amelia pursed her lips, putting her hands on her tiny hips in a perfect imitation of Patricia. “No, really! I love it. I really like what you did with my hair. It looks… just like that.” Thor snickered beside her, and Patricia quickly slapped his leg, though she had to turn her head away to hide her own silent giggles. 

 “It really is a perfect likeness.” Thor replied smugly, leaning forward to pull Amelia into his lap. “I love the eyes. It looks just like Uncle Kaleb.” Kaleb opened his mouth to retort angrily, but at the sight of Amelia peering up at him adoringly, it snapped shut. Thor, unable to keep himself from twisting the knife, kissed Amelia’s cheek. “Let’s put it up on the fridge, so every time Uncle Kaleb visits, he can see it too.” 

 Kaleb glowered at him. “Thanks.” 

 “You’re very welcome.” Amelia looked back and forth between the two of them, picking up on something passing between the two adults that was too complicated for her to understand, but not lost on her either. Patricia plucked the drawing from Thor’s hands as she stood, effectively ending the conversation. 

 “I’m going to go put this in the kitchen. Let’s go pick out a magnet, Mels.” She held Amelia’s hand as she nodded enthusiastically. 

 “Yeah! I like… elempant one.” Patricia chuckled quietly at her faux pas. 

 “Elephant. I like that one too, let’s go find it.” She left them in the living room, and walked with Amelia into the kitchen. Patty released a heavy breath. She could hear them in the living room, still snippily going back and forth, though she could only hear snatches of what was being said. She placed the drawing on the fridge, holding it in place and let Amelia put the magnet on. 

 “Jesus this place is huge.” Patty turned to see Kaleb, looking around the kitchen with both disgust and admiration. It was true that Thor’s opulence was littered all around them, but Patty had just… grown used to it. 

 “You want the tour?” She asked, and Kaleb shuddered. 

 “No. God no. What I want is to know he treats you good. I want to know if he’s a good father to my niece. I want to know if I need to sneak back in here and—” He made a slicing motion across his throat, and Patty grimaced. The answer was a resounding no until recently, and she knew it too. But she’d seen something in him that wanted to do better for Amelia, and…perhaps foolishly—certainly selfishly—a part of her wanted him, too. She didn’t dare tell that to Thor himself, though it was entirely possible he already knew. It wasn’t smart, and she knew it. It would have been better to force space between herself and Thor, let Kaleb rain down whatever fury on him he wanted, which would likely include letting her parents in on the entire picture—

 And Patty didn’t want that. 

 “He’s… it’s complicated.” Kaleb frowned at her non-answer. “We’re working on it. He’s really good with Amelia, she loves him already.” 

 “And is he good with you?” 

 “Not so much.” Patricia admitted quietly. “But things are getting better.” She hated how defensive she sounded, but there was little she could do about it. “He…he gave up a lot to stay in our lives, and I want to be fair.” 

 “You don’t have to be fair, Pat.” Kaleb reminded her gently as he ruffled her hair. “You’ve got to be healthy and present for Amelia. Even if that means he’s not in the picture.” Patty exhaled a breath, clenching her jaw. 

 God I hate it when he’s right.

 “I’ll keep that in mind,” She replied. “I think we’re going to have lunch here in a little bit. You going to stay to torture Thor some more, or are you satisfied I haven’t been Charles Manson-ed?” Patricia asked, pulling open the fridge door as Amelia scampered between and around her legs. 

 “Not sufficiently, but enough to leave,” Kaleb retorted. “I don’t like it, Pat. I don’t like that this dude is like, ten years older than you, he’s got you living here, under his thumb.” He shook his head. “Like you’re a live-in nanny—with benefits.” He scowled deeper, and Patty felt her cheeks heat. It wasn’t like she herself hadn’t made that connection, nor thrown it in Thor’s face at least twice, but…she saw things Kaleb didn’t see. 

 The way he watched Patty do Amelia’s hair, his eyes following the movements of her hands as she parted and moisturized and braided. The way he poked his head in as they read together at night, just…checking in on them. The clear and genuine panic in his face and voice as he’d brought them home this morning. Thor wasn’t perfect—despite his own estimations—and Patricia didn’t think they would ever be great together. But she couldn’t deny she felt something for him, and much to her chagrin, it wasn’t blind hatred. 

 “You don’t have to like it, K.” Patricia replied, setting the sandwich she’d made for Amelia’s lunch onto one of her colorful plates. “But it’s my choice, and I’m making it.” She moved to take the carrot sticks and her little dipping container of hummus out of the lunchbox next, but Amelia made a whiny noise in the back of her throat. 

 “Can do it by myself, mommy.” With clumsy fingers, she dumped the carrots out onto her plate, and uncapped the hummus after a few tries. 

 “Okay, girl,” Patricia replied, laughing. “Live your best life.” She turned back to Kaleb. “He’s not the best person, but he’s trying his hardest to be a good father, and… I respect that.” Kaleb opened his mouth to interject, but Patty held up a finger. “I don’t know if I made the right choice three years ago, and I don’t know if I’m making the right one now, but I’m not a kid anymore, and you don’t get to bully me until I do differently.” She reminded him. 

 “Still don’t like it.” He sniffed. “But I’m willing to withhold the ass-beating until further notice.” 

 “Love you too,” Patty said sarcastically, knowing it was the best she would get out of him. Kaleb hugged her tightly. 

 “Don’t go getting into any more trouble, squirt. I can’t always bail you out.” Patty walked him to the door, promising that she would be in touch, that they would be at the—now dreaded—upcoming family event, and that the very instant Thor stepped out of line, she would call Kaleb immediately. Amelia was still eating her lunch when Patricia flopped tiredly back onto the couch. Thor emerged from his office, still on the phone. 

 “Yes, well it’s my name on the patents.” He replied tiredly, scrubbing a hand down his face. Patty could hear someone on the other end, but only the droning sound of their voice. “I don’t want to hear about this again until it’s done, Barton.” He looked around the room before meeting Patricia’s inquisitive gaze. Kaleb gone? He mouthed, and Patty nodded tiredly. “Ask Nat. I’m sure there’s something she can pull up. Let me know when the transfer’s done.” The phone clattered to the table, the result of Thor’s careless toss. “Where’s Amelia?” 

 “She’s eating at the table,” She replied glancing over her shoulder to confirm. “That sounded fun.” Patricia quipped as he sat heavily beside her. “I thought you were… done with work.” Thor shook his head. 

 “Just because I no longer work for Mjolnir doesn’t mean I no longer work.” He said dryly. Patricia hmmed in response. “My father has been…less than pleasant about my departure.” Thor grimaced. “He’s fighting me tooth and nail for patents I own.” He clenched his fists against his thighs. This part of their relationship was still shockingly new, the part where they actually talked. She wasn’t sure what to even say, considering just three weeks before, she’d have probably flippantly told him that his problems weren’t any of her concern. 

 “So… what do you do now?” She asked, and he sighed. 

 “Continue sending our lawyers to mediate until terms are reached, I suppose. I have no intention of attending a meeting, and I doubt Odin does either.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “And then, I suppose I market whatever he deigns to release to me to all the right backers until someone bites.” 

 “Why wouldn’t you go to a mediation?” Patricia asked, and Thor looked sideways at her, his lips pressed tightly together. 

 “The next time I see Odin, I sincerely hope it’s as they’re lowering his corpse into the ground.” He spat. “He called you—”

 Patricia waved her hand. She’d been called worse by better, and though his hoity toity family’s rejection of her still felt raw—fuck, we’re not even together—she was trying not to let it bother her. “I know what he called me, and while I appreciate your defense of my character, I meant, if you went, couldn’t you argue for better terms? Especially if he’s not there to defend himself? Just because he’s gone silent doesn’t mean you have to, too.” Thor opened his mouth as though he intended to argue, only to snap it shut as the wheels began turning in his mind.

 “I—hmm.” He tapped long, thick fingers against his knee thoughtfully. “That’s actually not a bad idea.” 

 Patricia snorted. “Try to hold your praise.” She replied dryly. Thor chuckled at her. 

 “What? Come now, Patricia, didn’t you just get done lecturing all of us on what an adult you are? You don’t need my approval.” He clucked at her like a mother hen, and Patty rolled her eyes. She moved to get up to check on Amelia—the kitchen was far too quiet—only to have Thor pull her into his lap. She met his chest with a soft oof, and huffed out an irritated breath. “It’s a good idea, Patricia.” His voice was low and gentle, and before she could temper the urge, her hand found his cheek, her thumb brushing across the roughness of his beard. 

 Her chest felt tight again, like this was too intimate, too close. Patricia wasn’t inclined to hold to the promises he forced out of her yielding mouth when he was too deep inside of her for her to know left from right, but it was growing more and more difficult to ignore that he wanted to be more than co-parents. 

 And maybe she did too. 

 Patricia hurriedly pulled her hand away, and thankfully, Thor didn’t question the gesture—at least, not out loud. “I hope the rest of your family chooses something other than instant disdain when I meet them.” He mused, and Patricia couldn’t stifle her laughter. 

 “I mean. In his defense, you do make it really easy.” Patricia yelped as his hands found her sides. “If they all somehow, magically manage to avoid seeing those very obvious pictures of us, then I think we might be in the clear.” She replied, swatting his hands away from her ticklish middle. 

 “I happen to think I’m quite likeable,” Thor replied. “You’re the only one who seems to have a problem with me.” Patricia quirked an eyebrow at his statement. “Well, you and Idunn.” He said sourly. 

 “Maybe we should start a support club. Mistresses-of-Odinsons-Anonymous.” Patricia grimaced. Thor cocked his head at her, shaking it as he met her gaze evenly. 

 “You’re not my mistress, Patricia.” There was something too genuine in his eyes, and Patricia scrambled for a response. Oh no. NO. Too serious. Deflect, deflect!

 “Well I’m not your girlfriend.” She retorted, and made another attempt to remove herself from his lap. Thor’s thighs went taut beneath her as he forced her to stay, his hands iron around her hips. “Come on, Thor, I have to go check—”

 “She’s fine, and this conversation is long overdue.” He said smoothly, and Patty gulped. 

 “Y-you can’t possibly expect me to keep a promise you forced out of me while you were making me cum,” Patricia said quietly, her face hot as she looked everywhere—anywhere—but at him.

 “I can’t?” His thumbs rubbed circles through her leggings. “I’m not in the business of ignoring a verbal agreement.” Patty hated the way his cocky smirk made her insides clench now, replacing the initial irritation she usually felt when he looked at her like that. “I’m not watching my life crumble around me for you to be my mistress, Patty.” 

 His words sucked all the air out of the room, and for a minute, all she could see was him. His clear, blue eyes locked onto hers, the determined expression on his handsome face, and the stubborn set of his jaw. You’re mine, he said silently in a thousand different ways—and Patricia found she understood every one. 

 “We would just make each other miserable.” She said softly, playing absently with the sleeve of his shirt. Her fingers traced over the cleanly sculpted muscles of his bicep, which tensed and released under her touch. “We’re a complete mis-match who never should have slept together to begin with.” 

 “You don’t seem miserable to me.” There it was, the truth she’d been trying so desperately to avoid. Thor made her angry, he irritated her, he challenged every decision she made and refused to toe any line she tried to draw. All of those together should have made her hate him, but… she didn’t. “In fact, I daresay you might actually like me, Patricia.” 

 “Ew, gross. I do not.” She replied childishly, wrinkling her nose. Thor frowned at her, which made her giggle. “Okay, okay. So I like you. That doesn’t mean I think it’s prudent or wise for us to even consider a relationship.” Patricia felt his grip on her tighten, and she swallowed. “Thor…” 

 “I’m not stopping.” He said slowly. “I’m not one of those frivolous college boys who you can run off with a well placed insult.” He cupped her chin with one massive hand, his thumb brushing across her lower lip. “You’re mine, Patricia, and I intend to have you.” It’s got to be magic, Patty thought absently as his mouth covered her own. The way he could so easily disrupt any and every single one of her thoughts with a touch, a look, a kiss. Magic was the only explanation. 

 Thor’s tongue swept against her lips, and she opened them without a second thought, allowing him almost instant access. It wasn’t fair that he was right. That she should still want him so much, even after all he’d said, all he’d done. He didn’t deserve a second chance, and Patricia almost hated herself for wanting to give him one anyway. Thor pulled away to pepper soft, hot kisses down the side of her throat, and Patty felt his lips curve against her flesh. 

 His hands were hot on every bit of her he could reach, his palms sliding over her legging-clad thighs and squeezing. “A-and do I get a say in this?” Patricia replied, her breath catching in her throat as he dragged his lips across her pulse point. 

 “Of course,” His teeth rasped across her skin. “You get to say yes.” His eyes were so intense, she almost couldn’t meet them. “Let me take care of you.” 

 “Daddy, look, I draw you, too!” Amelia’s excited voice was the catalyst Patty needed to scramble off of Thor’s lap, her face burning. She was glad to let Amelia lead her up to her bedroom and force her to sit through a very important tea party with every single one of her horses. 

 Because if she hadn’t, Patricia certainly would have said yes. 

 A thousand times yes.  

——

 Loki: I’m doing everything I can to slow the merger and make him see reason. 

 Loki: So if you have any cards up your sleeve, I suggest you play them

 Thor grimaced at his phone. That was certainly not the news he’d been hoping for, but it was better than nothing. Patricia whined in her sleep, and he ran the back of his hand down the skin of her arm. Her hair was in two tight twists going down the back of her head, the ends resting on the silk pillowcase she’d insisted on sleeping with. It was only her second consecutive night in his bed, but Thor was already determined to make this a regularity. Thor’s large thumbs tapped audibly against the screen as he texted his brother back. 

 I’m working on it.

 Loki: Work faster.

 Thor resisted the urge to childishly throw his phone across the room, and instead placed it down just a little harder than necessary on the nightstand. He turned off the lamp and rolled over onto his side before pulling Patty flush against his body. The overlarge t-shirt she was wearing had ridden up on her hips, and the plush curve of her ass was pressed against him. She fit his body like a puzzle piece, slotting against him with an ease he couldn’t explain. 

 Gods, it was…he both wanted and didn’t want to get used to it. He was determined to hold onto Patricia, but… what if she left anyway? His grip on her tightened, and she moaned a little, shifting uncomfortably. Thor murmured a quiet apology into her hair, inhaling the scent of tea-tree oil and vanilla. It felt too natural to hold her like this, and though he knew Patty wasn’t anywhere close to admitting it, she liked it too. 

 He frowned at the thought of her brother. Kaleb had hated him instantly, and Thor was only too happy to return the sentiment with equal fervor. He was only nine years older than she was, it wasn’t like she was eighteen, for chrissakes. He rolled his eyes. But…he hoped at least Patty’s parents would like him. It wasn’t the first time he’d heard her speak fondly of them, and he wasn’t stupid enough to think that their opinions wouldn’t weigh heavily on whether she decided to stay or not. 

 “Nnnh…is this what you wanted me in your bed for?” Patty murured sleepily. “To squeeze me to death?” her voice was raspy with sleep, and Thor chuckled. 

 “Sorry. I was thinking.” 

 “And you think with your muscles? No wonder you have so many of them.” she muttered darkly. “What’s wrong? Is it your dad again?” For someone who spouted on and on about how terrible they were together, she was surprisingly intuitive about his emotional state. He both loved and despised how well she seemed to be able to read him. 

 “I’m just… nevermind.” he didn’t particularly feel like untangling the messy threads of emotion rattling around in his brain. Thor wasn’t used to being particularly vulnerable, and it didn’t come easy. He worried for a moment that Patty would push him, poke and prod and pry like Idunn always had, but she only hmmed in the darkness, and snuggled down into the pillows. She didn’t protest when he drew lazy patterns on her thigh, nor when he rested his chin on top of her head. 

 But as the moments drew on, and he didn’t fall asleep, Patricia yawned loudly. “Listen, just because you can’t sleep doesn’t mean I don’t want to.” She shook herself loose from his embrace and sat up, stretching. She padded away from the bed and out of the door, and when she returned a few minutes later, it was with a glass of water. “Let’s watch a movie.” She jerked her head at the little used television across the room. Thor peered at her shadowy face quizzically in the dark. “Are you looking at me? I can’t tell.” 

 “A movie?” 

 “You don’t want to talk. You’re not letting me sleep—what other option do I have but to try and lull you into slumber?” She groused. “Where’s the remote?” It wasn’t too difficult to find, and Thor’s complaints seemed to dry up when she leaned against him. It was strange how…nice it felt, just being with her. He wasn’t required to be Thor Odinson—he could just be Thor. He had no choice but to let his guard down—because Patricia could see under it anyway. It was obsolete with her—and he liked it. 

 He wasn’t paying attention to what movie she picked—it didn’t particularly matter. The plot was mediocre, but Patty’d picked it because it was a horror, and she said she liked scary movies. It was shocking that he could share a child with someone, and still know so little about her. 

 “Why horror movies?”

 “I don’t know. Something about being scared just…” She shuddered. “I like it.” 

 Were this Idunn, she’d have dug her needle sharp claws into him, ripping and tearing the information from him completely unwillingly. But by the third movie, Patty had simply looked at him and asked:

 “Ready to talk, yet?” 

 He hesitated. “I… If your parents don’t approve of me, will you take Amelia and leave?” He asked, finally giving voice to the fear gnawing at the edges of his consciousness. Thor had already lost what he’d worked his entire life for, all for them—it would be cruel irony if Patricia suddenly vanished into the ether as well. He’d promised her he wouldn’t threaten her with legal action anymore, but if she took Amelia…

 “Thor, you threatened to sue me if I didn’t move in with you, and for some crazy fucking reason, I’ve let you convince me to… I don’t know, play house with you?” Patty replied flatly. “I’m not taking Amelia away from you. She loves you, and it would only hurt her. That’s the last thing I want.” 

 The tightness in his chest eased a little. “And you?” 

 “Thor, I meant what I said earlier.” She played with the end of one of her braids before shifting to hug her knees under the sheets. “This?” She gestured between the two of them. “This doesn’t work in the real world. We’re pieces from two totally different puzzles.” 

 “Then I make you fit.” He replied resolutely. “Though I’m sure Kaleb wants otherwise.”

 “Yeah, he does not like you,” Patricia agreed, giggling. “But that’s okay. I honestly didn’t expect him to—I think it’s the fact that you’re the same age that has him all bugged out.” She admitted. “If they don’t like you, we deal with it the same way I dealt with Kaleb.” 

 Thor slept easier after that. And when he got up in the morning, Patty was still sleeping. They’d passed out with the television on, and Thor turned it off, hoping the absence of it’s droning wouldn’t wake her. He checked on Amelia—still sleeping—before he went downstairs for coffee. 

 “Sleeping in, brother? That’s new.” 

 Thor heard Loki before he saw him, and swallowed the momentary surprise as he rounded the corner into his kitchen. Loki was sat at the table, a steaming mug of coffee in his hand. He greeted Thor with a nod. “Father’s… you’d better sit down.” He gestured towards the island. He was glad he’d gotten to spend the night with Patricia—she grounded him. He didn’t feel nearly as wound as he had the entire day before. 

 He sat, and Loki slid him a mug, along with the pot of coffee he’d brewed, likely while Thor was still asleep upstairs. “Starting early with the bad news?” he asked dryly, and Loki smiled a thin, wry smile. 

 “I was on my way to the office and figured I would stop by to tell you the news before you saw it yourself. The merger goes live next week.”

 Thor clenched his fists. He was still in talks with Odin and his bloody lawyers over programming he owned in the first place—it was all just to stall him. It would be much harder battling both his father and Stark’s lawyers once everything went live, and the old man knew it too. “Fuck.” Thor pinched the bridge of his nose. 

 “I’m sorry.” to his credit, Loki sounded legitimately apologetic. 

 “He’s named you heir now, hasn’t he?” Thor asked, and Loki shook his head. 

 “He tried. I refused.” Thor’s eyebrows rocketed up his forehead. 

 “You…refused?” Loki loved the power that came with their names, with their legacy. Thor couldn’t hide his surprise at his brother refusing more of it. 

 “I don’t really fancy taking on as much…responsibility as you seem to be comfortable with.” Loki replied diplomatically, and Thor shook his head. 

 “Brother, you astound me.” Thor took a swallow of the coffee, sighing. “There’s no point in attending today’s mediation, I assume.” he knew he sounded tired—he was. He’d slept well, though not for long after he’d finally opened up to Patricia, still in his bed upstairs. Their bed. He had no intention of letting her return to sleeping in the guest bedroom, not now. “Has he made a public statement yet?”

 Loki didn’t ask for clarification, he didn’t need it. Odin was relying on Thor’s…less than stellar reputation with women to sustain his public shaming. “Of course not.” Loki snorted. “He’s just letting the media machine run its course. Which I suppose it to your benefit, because I don’t think your reputation would ever recover if he were to side with Idunn—and you know he would.” 

 His eyes widened at his brother’s words, and he was reminded of Patricia’s suggestion the day before. Just because he’s gone silent doesn’t mean you have to, too. “Loki do you still have that connection to Star Report?” he asked, a sly grin creeping across his face. Thor had never particularly worried about spinning stories before; Odin’s PR manager usually did all of that for him. He thought briefly about hiring a new one, but trashed the idea, knowing Patricia would never want someone else speaking for her. 

 “I…probably? I haven’t spoken to Katie since well… you know.” Thor snickered. 

 “Since you slept with her brother?” Thor couldn’t quell the amused smirk that played at the corners of his mouth. 

 “…I deliberately chose not to mention that.” Loki snapped, crossing his arms haughtily. He loved poking fun at all of Thor’s various indiscretions, but when it came to his, he was irritatingly sensitive. “Why?” 

 “I think Patricia and I need to make a statement of our own. And what better way?” if he could control the narrative, then Idunn’s claims would evaporate into nothing, like water on a hot sidewalk. He knew it would make things easier for Patricia as well, remove the target from her back and maybe help lay some of Kaleb’s concerns to rest. He knew part of Patricia’s reluctance to… accept their relationship was the fact that public perception was…what it was. He couldn’t turn back time, but he could continue to try and prove to her that he was her best—and only—option. 

 “That’s actually not a terrible idea. I mean, you need serious media coaching—” Thor narrowed his eyes at Loki, who simply cocked an eyebrow, daring him to challenge the obvious truth. “—but it’s not bad.” 

 “I don’t need media coaching.” Loki snickered at Thor’s ire. 

 “Oh? And what are you going to say when they ask you why you didn’t end your relationship with Idunn before moving Patricia into your apartment? ‘She’s mine and I intend to keep her’?” Loki mimicked him with irritating accuracy, complete with equally annoying finger quotes as he spoke. Thor opened his mouth to retort that he would tell them he and Idunn had never had a relationship, but as the words formed on his tongue he realized how self serving it sounded—even if it was true. “Exactly. Look, if Katie is willing to talk to me—don’t look at me like that, Thor!—I’ll set up an interview. See if you can get Natasha to come over and go over some talking points with you, we’d hate to have you look like the womanizing brute you are.” 

 “Uncle Low-key!” Amelia’s excited squeal made Thor turn. Her little feet slapped against the wood flooring as she barreled into Loki’s legs. His brother looked up at him helplessly as she reached up for him, bouncing on her toes. “Mornin’! You gonna have breakfast with me and mommy and daddy?” she jabbered at him a mile a minute, and Thor couldn’t hold back the chuckle that rose from his chest at Loki’s confused and upset expression. He wondered if he’d looked equally clueless those first days. I doubt I could ever. be as bad with children as Loki. He still felt completely out of his element, but he supposed it was a testament to his tenacity that Patricia now—albeit entirely grudgingly—trusted him with their daughter alone. 

 “Uh, n-no, I, well. Good morning.” he stammered, awkwardly seating Amelia in his lap when she continued to bounce, reaching her tiny hands up toward him. “How are you, Amelia?” 

 “I don’t go school yesterday, because a mean man maked mommy cry.” she replied, her little face scrunching up into a frown. “I don’t like him.” 

 “Oh?” Loki looked up at Thor for further explanation, and he sighed. 

 “Paparazzi. Cornered her in the lobby, and she… it was upsetting for her.” Thor tried to remember that Patricia hadn’t grown up with innate media attention just because of her name. Thor was used to dealing with reporters in his face—she wasn’t. Speaking of Patricia…she was sleeping rather late. Thor turned his attention to Amelia. 

 “Is your mother up, love?” she shook her head wildly. Patty normally rose earlier than he did, but they’d stayed up fairly late the night before. “Are you hungry?” An enthusiastic nod was his answer. Thor wasn’t particularly skilled in the kitchen, and his expertise ended at putting things in the microwave. He opened the freezer, taking out the blueberry waffles that Patty carefully doled out, popping two into the toaster.

 When they came back up, he cut them carefully into bite sized pieces and poured just a little too much maple syrup on them—the way she liked them. “Loki. Can you sit with Amelia while I go check on Patricia?” Loki pursed his lips. 

 “I’m not exactly experienced with children.” 

 “You’ll be fine. Nothing sharp.” Thor called over his shoulder as he made his way toward the stairs. He’d be fine for the few minutes it would take to look in on Patty. When Thor rounded into the bedroom, to his surprise, she wasn’t there. When he touched the silky sheets they were warm, evidence that she’d recently risen from them. He cocked his head—the sound of running water was coming from the bathroom, and steam curled out around the slightly open door. He smirked. 

 The almost month that Patricia had been living in the apartment, she’d been using one of the two guest bathrooms. His own—as he assumed she’d just discovered—was much nicer. He pushed open the door, and the sunken bath to the right was empty, but the glass walled shower stall was on, it’s sides steamed up. 

 “Found the shower?” he called out, and he heard her sharp intake of breath before she approached the glass, wiping a spot clear so that she could fix him with a look. 

 “You didn’t tell me you had the best shower on earth.” She replied accusingly. Thor could see the shape of her through the glass, and his cock stirred against his leg. “If you’d led with that, maybe I’d have come sooner,” she joked, laughing as she stepped back underneath the spray. “Amelia up?”

 “Yes. She’s downstairs with Loki.” 

 “Loki’s here? Good thing I’m getting dressed then.” Thor was pulling at his sleeping pants and stepping out of them before he really thought about it. Loki would be fine for another thirty minutes, wouldn’t he? Thor stepped into the glass shower enclosure, and Patricia turned, her eyes traveling over his form before she forced them back up to his face. “What are you doing?” 

 “Showering.” it was a half truth, but he wasn’t really trying to hide it. She narrowed her eyes at him, but stepped aside to allow him under the spray. 

 “H-how’s Amelia?” 

 “Fine. Downstairs driving uncle Low-Key crazy.” he enunciated the words the way that Amelia did, and Patty giggled. “Though I think he’s got it handled.” Thor stepped closer, his hands skirting down her warm, soapy sides. She shuddered. 

 “Well, I don’t want to leave him down there too long. He doesn't seem the type to really enjoy kids.” Thor let out a noncommittal hum as he watched a particularly interesting soap bubble slide down the curve of her ass. “What’s Loki here for, anyway?” she looked up at him quizzically, only to frown when she saw where his gaze was resting. How could she blame him? Every delicious curve of her was constantly begging for his attention, and Thor, being the man he was, couldn’t well refuse them. 

 “He thinks we should make a statement of our own,” Thor replied, his eyes not moving. “I happen to agree.” Patricia turned in an effort to force him to focus, and he was loath to inform her that there was no angle from which she wasn’t appealing. She seemed to realize that, and frowned at him.

 “Oh, do you?” her voice was wry. “And what would we say?” she ran wet hands through her hair, tilting it back into the spray. 

 “I haven’t gotten that far yet.” 

 “More like you’re distracted.”

 “Hmm.” he pressed a kiss to her temple, caging her against the wall with his arms. “Baby.” Thor watched her visibly shudder at the pet name, her tongue darting to her lips. He knew she hated the power such a simple word had over her, but he relished it. He watched the way her teeth nervously found her lower lip as she debated whether or not to give in to his affections—but he knew he would have his way, he always did. 

 “Thor, we should really—”

 “Perhaps after I’ve had you against that wall we can talk about what we should really be doing.” the semi-hard weight of his cock pushed against her belly, and he watched Patricia’s eyes widen as they moved rapidly up to his own. A small, sardonic little smile wormed it’s way onto the corners of her mouth. 

 “Do I get to choose which wall?” 

 She had to know that her defiant little attitude just did things to him. He’d never been one for women who didn’t follow directions; but with Patty it seemed to entice him far more than it pissed him off. He growled, pinning her hands on either side of her head as he pressed his lips to her own. She moaned into his mouth, and Thor thought for a moment he might cum right then—his aching cock pressed into the soft, slick skin of her belly, the sound of her pleasure ringing in his ears. 

 He eyed the fading mark he’d left on her throat the last time before attaching his mouth to that same spot, working it with his tongue until a fresh bruise formed. Let’s see her hide that. Thor released her wrists in favor of sliding his large hands down her back to cup the curve of her sweet ass, kneading her cheeks greedily in his hands. Patty’s hands found purchase on his shoulders, her dull nails digging into his flesh as her mouth worked feverishly at the juncture between his neck and shoulder as if trying to leave marks of her own. 

 Thor hissed as her nails dragged down his chest, over his nipple. Using his surprise against him, Patricia slipped easily from his grip, sliding under his arm. She gave his chest a light push, and he reluctantly acquiesced, moving backward until he met the cool, wet tile behind him. He narrowed his eyes at her, not keen on being denied—he’d already waited a full day, and even that seemed excessive. He opened his mouth to complain, but snapped it shut audibly as Patricia met his gaze and slowly lowered herself to her knees, her hand trailing down his stomach. 

 Oh. 

 Of all the different ways Thor had imagined Patricia finally taking him into her sassy little mouth, he had to admit, this scenario had never crossed his mind. She peered up at him through her dark lashes, and suddenly he couldn’t hear the sound of the water pattering against the floor, or the sound of the vent above them—only his own heartbeat as she leaned forward to brush her lips against the throbbing head of his cock. 

 “Fuck.” Thor’s cock throbbed visibly, precum gathering on the angry, red tip.    Heat rushed through him, and all he wanted to do was grab Patricia’s jaw and hold her sweet mouth open so he could force his cock down her throat, but he restrained himself, settling for threading his fingers through her wet curls, tugging them gently. He watched, paralyzed as she opened her mouth—the same mouth that had told him dozens of times that he would never have her— wrapped her lips around the head of his cock and sucked. Thor was unable to contain the ragged groan that escaped his open mouth, his hips thrusting against her face. 

 He felt her slide her tongue down the bottom of his shaft, tracing the thick, throbbing vein that ran along the underside of his cock. Cheekily, she placed kisses along the side, swiping her thumb through the precum that quickly gathered at the tip. Like she wanted to make sure he was watching, she slowly and deliberately swirled her tongue around the head. He thrust shallowly against her tongue, groaning as she looked up at him. “Gods be damned, woman, you’re going to be the fucking death of me,” he gasped.

 Thor’s hand tightened in her hair, and she whined, his cock sliding further into her hot, yielding mouth. She didn’t stop though, allowing him to tilt her head to the side just a little, the head of his cock bumping against the back of her throat. “Fuck, Patricia, had I known your mouth could do this, I’d have fucked it ages ago—“ she cupped his balls, squeezing them gently in one small hand as he hissed. Finally—finally—Patty slowly began to swallow him down, the muscles of her throat tightening deliciously around his cock. Thor’s eyes rolled back, and he didn’t feel the pain of his head banging against the wall as his head banged against it. He could feel his balls tightening, fuck, he was going to come down her hot tight throat—

 And then she pulled away. 

 If he were capable of embarrassment in that moment, Thor might have felt shame about the agonized groan that escaped him as he looked accusingly down at Patricia’s smug face. “Don’t stop.” his voice escaped him as a demanding growl, but she seemed unfazed, even when his grip tightened on her hair. 

 “I’ll keep going,” Patricia assured him with another tantalizing lick to the side of his cock that made his eyes cross. “But I want something first.” she tugged on his balls gently, her lips wrapping around his crown for a delicious second before she released him with a wet ‘pop’. He could barely concentrate on her words, grunting in frustration. “I want you to really try to get along with my family. Really try, Thor.” 

 “Can we talk about this another time my cock isn’t about to go off in your mouth?” 

 Another long slow lick was his answer, accompanied by a sloppy wet kiss to the tip of him. “No.” Patricia wrapped her hand around his cock, her thumb and forefinger barely able to touch as she began pumping it slowly, her lips still brushing across his head. “And you’re going to be honest with me about everything going forward. Unless you want three years of begging for another one of these.” before Thor could protest, she’d swallowed him again, her nose resting against the neatly trimmed hair at the base of his cock. She moaned softly around his girth, the sound vibrating pleasurably around him. Her throat constricted, and he raked his nails down the wall, panting. 

 She released him with a small gasp, a thin trail of her own drool still connecting her to the throbbing length of his dick. He couldn’t think, not when she was rolling her tongue along the underside of his cock with his balls in her hand, looking up at him expectantly. “Yes, fuck, anything, anything you want—” 

 Perhaps it was the sight of her on her knees for him, his cock between those fucking perfect lips, the tightness of her throat around him, her hands massaging and pulling at the heavy weight of his balls—or probably more aptly all of the above—but he was cumming hard, thick ropes of his cum coating her throat. He thrust in, holding her head still as he emptied himself into her waiting mouth. She held his cock in her mouth for just a few seconds longer, swirling her tongue around his head in an attempt to catch any stray drops of his release. 

 He stroked the side of her face with a gentle—if trembling—hand, before locking it around her jaw. “Open.” she obeyed him instantly, opening her mouth wide to show him the dregs of his own cum on her tongue. If he could have cum again at the sight of it, Thor was sure he would have. Patricia swallowed audibly, and then opened again to prove her mouth was now empty.  She looked irritatingly pleased with herself, and Thor frowned at her. 

 “What?” her voice was a cartoonish facsimile of innocence, belied by her knowing smile. “What’s the matter? I thought that was how we did things.” it died on her lips when he tugged her up to standing. He was still achingly hard, and his original mission of taking her against the wall until she sobbed was still at the forefront of his mind. He tilted her head back roughly to smash his lips against hers, swallowing her whine as he slid his fingers through the sticky wetness at her core. 

 “I’m picking the wall.” 

To be continued…

[brightlotusmoon]

Anyway, a recent conversation brought up one of my favorite headcanons from the last twenty years: the turtles trying on human cultures and rules as if they are trying on clothes.

Which extends to really any humanoid characters with nonhuman instincts.

My personal idea of the Ninja Turtles is that they're animals with human psychology, rather than adolescent humans in animal bodies (although that's literally the idea behind the IDW Turtles, with reincarnation). And the best thing about that in fanfic is to take it to extremes or to mix it up.

Why should they live with or by human morals that are subjective? Or, would they follow those moral codes with a nearly cultish zeal because it's strange to them?

In my 2012 AU I wrote how each turtle was fascinated by aspects of humanity that are seen as marginalized. Mikey loves wearing silk and dresses and genders, for example. In my Bayverse AU, they're all kind of obsessed with why humans want to hurt each other over trivial things. In my 2003 AU, they're more integrated in society which makes them even more cynical if not more specifically fascinated. They are often split, too. Mikey and Donnie seem more connected to human culture through art and science. In Mirage, Leo eventually after a century becomes a bodhisattva, for example.

In Mirage, Mikey becomes a published author under a pen name. In fact, that was basically his main arc, how he just wanted to make art for people. Splinter's talk with him in "The Path" was both a backhanded compliment and a prediction, for how he walked the furthest from Splinter's path yet could certainly teach an old master. (And then his cat died.)

The idea is trying out human traits and behavior to see what fits, which is also why they don't have to be fixed. Mikey can be a deep thinker for example.

Also, Mirage Splinter sought to achieve nirvana beyond animal or human and the Rat King slapped him down hard in the City At War arc. That was an incredible dialogue.

I feel like Splinter's desires absolutely influenced the boys in their own ways, bad and good. Mikey wants to be accepted because he shines so brightly, but why not as himself? Must he become a different entity to truly feel love? (Spoiler: No. But that's the point.)

[fullbusterfantasmic]

Love potion ♋️

Chapter 2.5

Rated M

Gray x Reader

Without further ado; So concludes Chapter TWO! 🧚🏼‍♀️✨

On the other side of the guild Juvia has begun to grow both aggravated and impatient. “You’ll need to wait one hour for it to kick in, good things come to those who wait” recounting the words of the “enchantress” she scoffs. It was easy to slip the potion into her beloved’s drink while he was distracted, but now that “distraction” has his undivided attention! She sighs, “Juvia will be patient, her and Gray-sama will have all of eternity together to enjoy after tonight anyway”. Back to you two 🧚🏼‍♀️❤️ (Still your POV) I let Gray usher me towards a table set in the darkened corner of the guild hall. I’m taken aback that instead of sitting across from me, the guy slides onto the bench seat right up beside me. I scoot toward the wall to put a space between us, but that lasted about two seconds. He rests a hand on my thigh, beginning to slightly caress my skin before saying; “I’ve always thought you had really nice legs y’know?”. “Is that right? I had no idea” I try to keep my tone and expression neutral as if this is our standard flirtatious banter. I falter as his hand begins to inch higher up my leg, but I don’t stop him. “That’s just one of the many things I like about you, surely you’ve noticed by now that I’ve had my eyes on you?”. He better not be messing with me and when I let him know this he gets slightly offended; “You don’t believe me? Fine, I’ll show you then!”. “Look Gray I just really do-mmph!”. All of the sudden my head smacks into the wall behind me and stars ✨ dance across my vision as I hear a loud shout. “GRAY-SAMA!” exclaims Juvia who has apparently pounced on Gray, who then knocks into me, that ended up sending my head into the wall. “Oi! Juvia what the fu-“. “Gray-sama you should spend some time with Juvia now! Like one on one time, in your bed”. I audibly gag, this is where i take my leave! Slipping off the bench I crawl out from beneath the table on my hands and knees, making sure I’m clear of the table before standing up. I turn to see Gray wearing this sexy half smile as he looks at me. I smirk back at him as he mouths ”Later?”, to which I nod and he gives me a wink. I finally turn to walk away, deciding to get Natsu off poor Gildart’s back, as the older man is trying to spend time with his daughter. 🌬 Gray’s POV ❄️ I’d had her right where I wanted her and Juvia had to come and ruin it! I watch as my little minx crawls out from beneath the table, turning to look back at me with a disappointed frown. I give her a wolfish grin; This is far from over, you can run but I’ll have you before this night ends.I can’t help but wonder if she perhaps read my mind with the way her eyes suddenly become alight with excitement. Standing up, she gives me one last lustfilled glance over her shoulder. Later? She nods before turning to saunter off. “I hate to see you go, but damn do I love to watch you leave” I mumble appreciating the added sway to her hips. “Gray-sama” Juvia whines, startling me. “Yes Juvia? What is it?” I ask attempting to scoot away from her. “Juvia can’t help but wonder...” the bluenette trails of fidgeting nervously. “Juvia wonders what exactly?” I tease, she begins to blush. She opens her mouth to respond, but it’s immediately drowned out by a loud feminine squeal. “Natsuuuu!” For once I’m thankful Juvia is blocking me in; I look up to see flame for brains has picked up ________ swinging her around in a circle. My eyes narrow and my fists are clenching at the sight of her laughing along with that idiot as he sets her down. “I need a smoke, lets go outside and talk ok?” I ask the now elated water mage who immediately jumps up on her feet. “Yes of course Gray-sama! Us! Outside! Alone!” She says joyfully as I get up as well. As we head towards the doors I overhear Lucy’s slurred voice say “Drunk not I am you two! I mean Drunk? No I’m not!”. Out of the corner of my eye I see her with one arm around Natsu, and the other arm around _______. Good, now maybe that bastard can keep his paws off my girl. I sigh, a slight grimace appears on my face, here goes the hardest part of the night.

[vinylhazza]

Honor To Us All (G.D)

Summary: Grayson and Y/n watch Mulan, turning movie night into one of playful banter, serenades, and talk of a bigger life through mouthfuls of popcorn. Grayson confesses his real image of his girlfriend - a warrior in his eyes.

Word Count: 1.8k

Warning: Silliness, Fluff, Disney, literally so cheesy I’ll provide the wine: 🍷

“Do you think Mulan knows she’s a bad bitch?” Grayson ponders, stuffing another handful of cheesy popcorn into his mouth.

“I mean...I think she figures it out in the end. Or at least faces the fact that there is no other choice but the brave one. The confidence comes with her achievements - bringing honor to her family and country,” Y/n explains thoughtfully, smiling at how genuine of a question it was from such a big man that’s nothing but a softy that loves Disney.

Grayson sits for a moment longer, watching as Mushu rambles on about putting shame on a cow and what not, giggling at the small dragons rant. It’s always been his favorite character because of his perseverance to be seen as something more than a small sidekick. Plus he makes him laugh uncontrollably hard for being a cartoon and looking like a little lizard. And anything that can make that angelic smile and laugh of his come out is a gift from God, in her opinion.

“Good point. It’s just interesting that she goes into this war zone with all of this grit and dedication without ever being actually exposed to a lifestyle that requires such high expectations,” he mumbles through another mouthful of his snack. She knows he’s only saying this because he spends his time singing the songs instead of actually listening. Yes Grayson Dolan singing Mulan songs is one of the greatest sights she’s ever been blessed with. It’s a sound that bursts from him like he genuinely can’t hide his happiness, airy and with an adorable wheeze that leads to a puff from his inhaler. 

“Well that’s not entirely true. Before she went with the army she was expected to bring honor to her family in a different way: find a husband, be a perfect daughter, a perfect wife, a perfect mother in the future. She was always held to a high standard even if she didn’t live up to it sometimes. The pressure prepared her for it, I believe. It can be brutal to be scrutinized by your own family...belittled for your clumsiness and uniqueness when you’re meant to be so proper and uniform. She was constantly second guessing everything she thought was right and locking her real self away just to maintain an image was never destined to have. The army brought out the individuality in her - even if she was disguised as a man,” she finishes with a huff, out of breath but satisfied with her lengthy answer, popping a few Skittles into her mouth and smiling when she realizes they were all her favorite ones - red and yellow. The superior Skittles. 

The two sit wrapped in each other, scanning their eyes across a screen filled with fighting soldiers, a heaping pile on top of Mulan’s small frame. He takes a moment to comment “ouch” quietly without thinking, ignoring her small giggle at his innocence.

He’s so pure when he wants to be, serious when he has to be, and so totally himself all the time. It’s refreshing in a world so fake. There’s not a lot of men that will sit down and watch a movie like Mulan and actually think about what it means instead of teasing and making fun of the movie the entire duration. He’s not interested in being a douchebag for an image. 

“Be a man, we must be swift as the coursing river, be a man, with all the force of a great typhoon, be a man, with all the strength of a raging fire, mysterious as the dark side of the mooooooooon,” he sings along, laughing at the way she’s watching him scream the lyrics like he really means them, joining in at the end. 

“Fuck them Huns,” Y/n wheezes, slapping at his thigh as she laughs joyfully.

“Literally fuck them Huns,” he agrees through popcorn, hand pressed against his mouth in fear of spilling some due to her own rolling laughter.

When it returns to the calm silence he speaks out again with so much serious she thinks he might be being sarcastic. But no, he’s all serious and curious as always.

“Also he’s a fine ass man how is she not blushing?” he tuts once again, eyebrows dipped down as Li Shang all but sings in Mulan’s face. This is a question she’s thought nearly every time she watches the film, but never had the mind to speak allowed. 

With a chuckle she simply fired back with another question, “She can’t fall over herself everytime she’s with him. She has a purpose for being there. Do you see me blushing every time I’m with you?”

“Yes,” he snarks, grinning again as she punches him in the arm playfully, snuggling into his black sweatshirt he hasn’t changed out of since they woke up a couple hours prior. 

“Shut up,” she giggles like a schoolgirl, hiding in the fabric of his hoodie further, “it’s not my fault you insist on walking around shirtless most of the time.” 

“Well so does Li Shang, so you see my point? The girls just can’t resist the bod,” Grayson gloats, a proud smile with lots of pearly white teeth on his face again. 

“Men are vile creatures.” Her amused mockery get’s her another chuckle before it grows silent once more, both enjoying the company that doesn't need conversation, “and did you just say bod?”

“Mmm mostly and yes, yes I did,” he agrees with a nod, not even finding a good rebuttal that could prove her wrong. He’s good at that, letting her have a peaceful moment. Because that’s what it was - a peaceful moment between two lovers, joking about Mulan on a couch they’ve sat on for far too long, in clothes they haven’t the urge to change, with hearts that won’t stay steady. 

Grayson stops when Mulan shouts from the speakers, covering herself as the soldiers pile into the water, and inevitably laughing as she scurries behind her horse. With a tug on his hoodie he’s yanking it over his head and handing it over to a shivering Y/n, knowing she could get a blanket, but his hoodie is so much better. 

They settle into the comfortable silence, Y/n stealing tiny handfuls of Grayson’s popcorn whenever she got the chance, belting out laughter when it was too much to hold in. He joined in the majority of the time, loving how blissful her laugh sounded, cherishing the way it stuck to every nerve of his heart and had it skipping beats from being overwhelmed. That was what she loved so much about the love they shared, it was plentiful but pure and full - never a dull moment even when they are essentially doing nothing. 

— — —

“I think you’re the Mulan of the world babe,” Grayson remarked with a love struck smile towards the end of the movie, having been silent for most of duration of the film since their little discussion in the beginning.

He’s hurrying to lean in and give his girlfriend a kiss on the cheek before she can question him, suddenly overwhelmed with a strong sense of devotion for this girl he gets to wake up to every morning by the grace of God. He would be so embarassed if anyone knew that he just geinuinely thought to himself just then that she was dreamy. But she was, she really was in every way, the most dreamy.

She smirks, turning as he backs away to quirk an eyebrow at him in question, “Oh really? Why’s that?”

Sitting back against the plush couch he explains the truth behind his claim, even if he’s going to sound cringe and too deep to have just watched an entire Disney movie.

“You never give up, even when things are hard. You keep pushing past all the failures in search of that success that has to come at some point. Even if it means making a sacrifice at your own expense to save someone else or protect something bigger than your ego,” his voice is strong, sure and pure, “you really do bring honor to us all. Even if most people choose to ignore it.”

“If I did everything in life to please other people, I would never be truly fulfilled, and yeah I might relate to Mulan the most but you, my dear, have Li Shang written all over. You’re always going on about duty, honor, making your family proud, even the country, always thinking outside of the box, owning up to mistakes and making sure you don’t make them again. You’re not easily defeated. You see purpose in all things, understand the rules and instead of trying to defy them like myself, you bring balance - hence why we are so good for each other.” Y/n strokes her fingers through his luscious hair,

“Well I would go to war for you, love,” he teases, rubbing his nose against hers for a tender eskimo kiss. He rarely uses that pet name, but loves her reaction when he does. 

“Hmm and I would do the same for you, darling,” she hums back, holding his face close with both of her hands, cupping his face right under the strong bones of his jawline. It’s a gag worthy moment, sappy and cliche, something that if walked in on, they would both blush and cower in embarrassment. But in this moment, with the two of them sitting still, foreheads touching, with the ending credits of a fairytale rolling, they couldn’t care less about lingering eyes that might see their moment that means so much.

“You’re like fire, unstoppable and warm, you never let anyone ruin it for you...I wish I could be that way,” Grayson gulps, stroking her temple with his thumb.

“You are that way. You’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever known. You’re exactly like all of the strongest charcters in every movie and honestly fuck Li Shang right now because you’re better because you’re real.” Y/n is observant. Always watching. Not in a weird, stalker way. She simply likes to know the details, little things that make someone who they are that they might be ashamed of at some point, or maybe things they don’t even notice.

She notices. She notices that his leg in bouncing right now because he’s wondering if she liked the kiss, even if he’s kissed her a thousand times and she always pulls away blushing. She notices the way his left hand has dropped to rub at her thigh like he does when he feels comfortable. She takes note at the small smile he gives when she laces her fingers with his to soothe his nerves, knowing it makes him feel better to be touched when he’s nervous. She notices his love language so she can meet him halfway. He’s her prince and she’s not ashamed to show it.

People say fairytales can’t be real, but Grayson proves them wrong every single day.

He’s looking at her with that grin, the one where he looks sneaky. He wears this smile when he’s excited, so completely happy, or getting ready to tickle you. There’s no in between, but right now, with the remote waving in his hand, you know exactly what page he’s on.

“So...Tangled?”

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Blue Eyes Part 10

Summary: After the Garrison is shot up, the youngest Shelby daughter finds a new home in London. She strips herself of her last name and tries to live a peaceful life far away from her brothers’ chaos in Birmingham. But fate leads her right back into it after she runs into Alfie Solomons.

Part 10: Tommy visits Alfie, Charlie is taken.

           Alfie’s fingers drummed impatiently on his desk. He was itching to just get the meeting with Tommy over with. He’d suffered enough as far as he was concerned. Seeing Ella cry, being the reason for her tears. Unbearable. But his hands were tied, what else could he reasonably do?

           Still, Tommy was prolonging the visit. Taking his time walking to Alfie’s office, sitting down, adjusting his tie pin (pretentious ass), and painstakingly lighting a cigarette.

           Alfie stifled a groan in the back of his throat and rolled his eyes. “For fuck’s safe, what?” His patience was wearing unbelievably thin. Another five seconds and he was sure he would start doling out well-deserved threats.

           “You made my sister cry,” Tommy informed him as if he didn’t already know.

           The man narrowed his eyes. “I did? Me? I’m the one who made her cry? You sure ‘bout that, mate?” He hissed.

           It was infuriating that nothing he could ever do would disturb the Brummie. He simply raised an eyebrow and watched the end of his cigarette slowly burn away. “What can I do to make you change your mind about my proposition?”

           “Proposition.” Alfie laughed bitterly and toyed with a pen to keep his hands busy. “Tommy, you’ve been ‘round the block before. Surely you must know that a woman doesn’t want to be offered up as a token for loyalty. So what you can do, right, is take back your words and leave me be on the matter. Sound good?” When he didn’t get an immediate answer, he switched subjects. “You’re here to talk business, meeting the Russians tonight. I must urge you to inquire about Faberge eggs. You can toss ‘bout diamonds and sapphires or whatever, yeah, but that’s the real prize, innit? With a couple of fine pieces and an egg, you’ll easily get your fill of forty grand.” What came across as helpful was simply Alfie setting up the opening stages of his own plan.

           Tommy nodded and looked interested in the possibility. “I can do that. They’re tricky but perhaps you’ll be able to persuade them a little further.”

           He crossed his arms over his chest and grunted in agreement. “Whatever I can do, mate.”

           But apparently, the Blinder wasn’t done with the previous issue. “So you have no intention of marrying my sister.”

           Alfie nearly blew a gasket. “You fucking Birmingham folk don’t ever let go of things, do ya?” He snapped.

           Calmly, Tommy tapped a bit of ash off his cigarette and cleared his throat. “It’s a simple question, Mr. Solomons.”

           “Don’t think it’s any of your business, mate. Never has and frankly, it never will.” He growled. “That’s my decision, innit?”

           “I’ll take that as a no then.”

           “Fuck off.”

           Tommy took one last drag before standing up. “Just trying to clarify, Alfie.” He buttoned his coat and flicked the cigarette into the ashtray on the desk that was really only used by him whenever he visited. “I’ve got other alliances I can make. You think our kin should stay with our kin. Since Ella isn’t Jewish and you’re so adamant about that, I s’pose it’s only fair to uphold our own roots. I’ve got inquiries from a family of Travelers.”

           Alfie’s hand slowly went to his waistband where his pistol was tucked away. Anger in his blood started to rise to a boiling point. His fingers curled around the pistol, ready to pull it out on the Blinder for what seemed like the hundredth time. It was a miracle Tommy wasn’t already riddled with bullets so late in their business relationship.

           “They’re worse than we are. You’d think we were the poshest folk you’ve ever seen if you met them.” Tommy continued to bait Alfie, taunt him and get him to the point of no return. Get him to realize that Ella wasn’t to be toyed with and her brother wouldn’t tolerate this game Alfie was playing with her. “Savages, really. But they’re effective, aye? An alliance with them would give me enough power to start taking more areas. Maybe areas a little closer to Camden.”

           “Tommy, I swear to whatever fucking pagan being you believe in, I’m going to blow your brains all over this fucking office.” Alfie’s face was starting to go red with rage and he was ready to pull out his pistol. Of course, he knew the man was just trying to rile him up. Manipulate him into doing his bidding. Ride or die, that’s how they both operated. But Alfie also knew that Tommy was ruthless enough to go through with what he was threatening. He’d made an alliance with the Lees by marrying John off. He very well could do the same to Ella. And Alfie would lose her for good. It made his heart compress painfully at the thought.

           Tommy put a hand in his pocket and retrieved something. He approached Alfie’s desk and dropped the small item. “That was the ring my father gave my mother.” He explained in a steady voice, fully aware that Alfie was armed and angry enough to do exactly what he threatened. “I’ll leave it with you for a week. After that week, if you haven’t made your decision, I’ll return and I’ll take it back. Rest assured, Mr. Solomons, after that, the ring will go to someone else who won’t wait.”

           Alfie’s jaw clenched. “I can’t fucking wait to spit on your grave.” He snarled viciously.

           “Neither can I, Alfie,” Tommy responded without skipping a beat and took his leave.

           Alfie loosened his grip on his gun and heaved out an exasperated sigh. He eyed the ring sitting on the desk near the ashtray where Tommy’s still smoking cigarette sat. For a moment, he didn’t even want to touch the thing, convinced it had some gypsy curse on it. But curiosity got the better of him and he picked up the piece of jewelry. It was a simple gold ring that needed a good polishing. Mounted was a round cut topaz stone that was small enough for him to scoff at. No wife of his would wear something so modest.

           But that wasn’t why Tommy gave it to him. It was the sentiment behind the gem that would mean more to Ella.

           Alfie turned the ring around in his fingers for a little bit, his mind racing. What would he do if he learned Ella had been pawned off to some gypsy clan? God was truly testing him. The only woman he ever loved just happened to be the sister of the most infuriating man to ever grace the planet. Just his luck.

           He grumbled a few obscenities under his breath and tucked the ring into his pocket.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

           It was always a strange phenomenon seeing the Shelby Company at work. Socialites mixing with folk who grew up in the slums. Some could say it was possible to move up in the world. To step into another social class and fit right in. Some disagreed. Just because you put on a nice outfit and some gold didn’t make you anything different. You were still the person you were born as just dressed to the nines.

           But Ella thought her brother looked like he fit right in. As he stood in front of the group gathered for the opening of Grace’s foundation, he didn’t look out of place. Even with a Brummie accent, he spoke with the esteem of a businessman. Because that’s what he was. It didn’t matter what he did to make his company rise from the dirt, he conducted business. They all did, to a certain extent. And if Tommy’s predictions were sound, they’d be a legitimate company. Still, the suspicion and fear would linger, there was no denying that. Whispers would continue to float around about how the Shelbys grasped the reins of power.

           After he spoke in front of the gathered crowd, Tommy slipped out of the room. Ella stood and excused herself to Ada who was sitting beside her. She followed her brother out into the hall.

           He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, and eyes fixed on the photograph of his wife. Grace’s serene expression surrounded by wreaths and garlands of flowers. Some of her favorites when she was still alive.

           Ella went to stand beside her brother, touching his shoulder to alert him of her presence. “Doing alright?” She could imagine it was an emotional day for him. He would see the production of his wife’s dream without her there beside him. On top of the added stress of everything else going on.

           He nodded solemnly, his eyes never moving from Grace.

           “Mum’s ring is missing.” There wasn’t concern or anxiety. Ella had a sneaking suspicion of where it had gone. Only her siblings and Polly knew that she kept the family heirloom in her jewelry box. “I couldn’t find it when I was putting on my earrings this morning.”

           “I know,” Tommy answered. “I took it.”

           She glanced over at him, hoping for more of an explanation than he offered. But she wouldn’t get the chance to ask any follow-up questions.

           “The absence of my invitation for this event was obviously an oversight on your part, Mr. Shelby.” The thick Irish accent was unfamiliar to Ella, but Tommy appeared to be well acquainted with it. His jaw immediately clenched as he turned around.

           Ella did the same and saw the priest standing in the hallway. Something about the man gave her a sinking feeling in her gut. Based on Tommy’s reaction, she could assume this was the man that they planned to kill. A man of the cloth.

           “Ah, Miss Shelby, I don’t believe we’ve met.” Father Hughes smiled with malice in his eyes.

           Tommy subtly placed himself in front of his sister, taking a step forward to place her behind his shoulder.

           “The woman who fell in love with the Jew.”

           Ella was unsure how this man had managed to stay alive so long. He’d pissed off the wrong people too many times. People like him didn’t last long when it came to the Peaky Blinders. But she had a feeling there was a reason Tommy was waiting. All it took was the right moment. And certainly in the middle of a social event opening an orphanage in broad daylight was not the right moment.

           But what really sent a chill down her spine was how he seemed to know everything. Things that the average passerby didn’t. He knew about Alfie.

           “Go to the reception, El,” Tommy said quietly.

           “Tom…” She was uneasy about leaving him alone with the priest.

           “I’ll be right there, go.” Her brother replied firmly.

           Reluctantly, Ella nodded and made her way down the hall to find her family. As she passed, Hughes gave her a sickeningly smug smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

           Ella couldn’t shake the bad feeling she got from Father Hughes. She stayed close to her family to feel safe, bouncing back and forth when the conversation bored her.

           Ada sighed and tried to soothe Charlie who was fussing loudly. She rocked him back and forth. “He doesn’t want to play with Karl after he took his train.” She shook her head.          

           Ella smiled. “So much like Tommy. Never satisfied when things don’t go his way.” She agreed and tried to hush her nephew to no avail.

           “I know, love, you want dad? Here we go, let’s find him.” Ada decided and headed over to her brother to pass Charlie off.

           Ella lingered by the table with pastries and finger sandwiches but she didn’t have much of an appetite. Her mind was like a switch, flipping from one worry to another. Why did Tommy take their mother’s ring from her jewelry box? What had he talked to the priest about?

           When Ada returned, the sister’s chatted about nonsense. Ella tried to get her mind off her anxiety and hoped she was simply overreacting. But the bad feeling turned into something all too real.

           Tommy walked over to them. “Where’s Charles?” He asked with a confused look.

           Ada frowned. “I gave him to you.”

           “Where is he?” Tommy demanded again.

           “He was just here.” Ella felt immediate panic spark in her chest, rising to her throat. “Where could he have gone?”

           Tommy rushed over from family member to family member asking the same question. And within seconds, madness ensued. The Blinders were scattered about, searching the building and running outside to find the missing boy. Ella felt dizzy as she ran through the halls of the new building, trying every door, which was firmly locked.

           “Charlie?!” She shouted, her voice following her through the vast hallways.

           “El!” Ada’s heels clicked across the smooth floor. “They’ve taken him, they took him into a car.”

           “No, they…he was right there!” Ella was shaking with fear. The threat was so close, maybe none of them even realized. The entire time, they had enemies breathing down the back of their neck. If they could simply snatch a toddler in a crowded room with his father right there, then there was no telling what else they could or would do.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

           The rain sounded like pebbles against the window. It was mildly soothing but the night was heightened by anticipation and fear. Polly gently stroked Ella’s hair as they waited in the betting shop.

           Tommy entered like a storm. Dripping from the rain and with a silent fury that filled the room. “Where’s Linda?” He demanded.

           “With Esme.”

           “Esme’s water broke.” John entered from the back door still wearing his coat and hat.

           “I need to know who spoke.” Tommy’s eyes passed from each of his family members in the room. “Our enemies know everything. Everything. I need to know who spoke about business outside.” His voice became more insistent and his steely expression turned paranoid. “I need to know who spoke and who they spoke to, now.”

           Arthur tried to step in but Tommy was already too far gone. The man looked from person to person, his face still stained by the rain.

           “Your wife, Arthur? Or Esme getting cash for cocaine. And you two.” Tommy turned to his sisters. “Back in the family, aye? Out of the blue.”

           Ella’s eyes narrowed. “You think I’d let something like this happen?” She challenged.

           “If anyone has talked about the tunnel to anyone else, I need to know this second!” Tommy snapped.

           She stood and gave him a disappointed glare. “I’m not going to sit around and let you speak to me like this. Not after everything you’ve done to this family.” She could sympathize with her brother. He lost his only son, the only thing of Grace he had left. But somewhere along the line, he’d found himself in that position because of his own choices. Ella left the betting shop and retreated upstairs to her room.

           Tommy looked to the doorway where she disappeared. There was someone else. Someone else who knew. Not only that, it was someone who held that damn egg.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

           Ella spent the night in her room, curled up in bed under the quilts. The rain continued until the morning, leaving a fog over Birmingham. The first thought upon seeing the daylight filtering in through the lace windows was about her nephew’s safety. There wasn’t much more she could do other than pray he was okay.

           It was hardly seven in the morning when there was a brief knock at the door and the knob turning.

           “El, get up.” Tommy entered a second later.

           “I’m still sleeping.” She said even though she was staring at the opposite wall while lying on her side.

           “It wasn’t a request. I need you in the car, now.” He looked disheveled, most likely he didn’t sleep at all that night.

           “I’m not doing any of your dirty work, Tom. Not after the way you spoke to everyone last night.” She made no effort to get up.

           “Ella, fucking get up and be downstairs in two minutes.” He ordered in the voice she used to fear. The voice that used to let her know that she was in trouble. Maybe for telling fortunes at school, biting John’s arm, or hiding from him when they were called inside for dinner at dusk. He had been an authority figure in her life ever since she could remember. But she’d gotten sick of it. Fed up with his complex.

           She sighed heavily and sat up. “I’m only doing this because of Charlie, not because of the way you’re acting now.” She made sure that was clear before he left.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

           Tommy parked outside of a large warehouse that Ella was unfamiliar with. She was sat in the backseat while Michael sat in the passenger seat. Neither of them cared to explain what they were doing there.

           “Wait here,” Tommy ordered firmly and stepped out of the car.

           Ella let out a frustrated sigh. “So he’s just brought us along to make us wait outside?” She lamented to her cousin.

           Michael shrugged and made himself busy by loading his pistol with bullets. “He has a plan.”

           “Yeah, always seems to have some sort of plan.” Ella decided she wasn’t going to just sit in the car and went to step out.

           Michael turned around in the front seat. “He doesn’t want us to…”

           “I’ll be fine.” She cut him off and shut the door behind her. Tucking her pistol in her holster tucked under her fur-lined coat, she made her way into the warehouse.

           Her entrance caused a pause in the conversation. But she was the most surprised when she saw Alfie standing a little bit away from her brother. His blue eyes watched her with a hint of apprehension, unsure what her reaction would be to him.

           Tommy was the first to speak. “Ella, I told you to wait in the car-”

           She didn’t listen and began walking straight for Alfie. The man beside the Jewish gangster tensed up a bit at her fast approach. But Alfie waved him off and let her step right into his space.

           Without a word, she reached into his heavy, black overcoat. Searching his inside pockets until she found what she was looking for. Her mother’s ring.

           Alfie almost looked guilty. Guilty for having it. Guilty for keeping it, instead of giving it back to Tommy. Guilty for holding onto the physical hope that he could still have Ella.

           She held it up to his face. Her lower lip trembled but her eyes didn’t dare move from his. “Why’d he give this to you?” Her voice shook. Everything continued to pack on, putting more and more weight on her shoulders and making her more and more confused. The push and pull was agonizing and she was going to end it.          

           “Ella,” Tommy spoke firmly, trying to get her away from Alfie.

           “Answer me.” She ignored her brother unaware that he had drawn his gun.

           Alfie noticed the pistol. “Go back to the car.” He spoke gently but wanted to get her out of the way.

           “Why did he give this to you?” Ella shouted. Her words echoed through the large warehouse and caused a few birds to spook off their perches.

           The space went silent for a moment, and then Tommy cocked his gun. The metallic clicking sound was too familiar to Ella. Initially, it used to mark the thrill of the hunt. Getting ready to claim a prize after tracking it patiently through the woods. Now it meant death. Retaliation. Fear. Power.

           Ella turned around but didn’t move out of the way. Standing in front of Alfie, she glared at her brother. “Tell me.”

           “Ella, move.” Tommy’s hand didn’t lower but she noticed it was shaking ever so slightly.

           “Why did you give this to him?” She repeated herself.

           “It was a mistake. You can take it back.” Tommy looked past her, over her shoulder at the gangster. “It’s not his to give anymore.”

           “Why?”

           “He left the richest name off the list.” Her brother answered, his eyes were cold.

           “What are you…”

           Tommy’s anger was palpable as he continued to point the gun forward. “He made a deal with the Oddfellows. Told them about the tunnel, told them about the deal with the Soviets.”

           Ella froze for what felt like hours. She didn’t want to turn around and face the man she loved. The man who had held her heart in his hands while he went behind her back. “No…” The word came out long and sounded foreign to even herself. Finally, she faced Alfie again. “You did this?”

           The man was facing two worlds colliding together. Two different faces of his self. The brash, unapologetic, ruthless gangster and the man who found the one person on the planet who saw his vulnerable side. “Things you don’t understand…”

           “Tell me what I don’t understand!” Ella snapped. She was beyond the point of acting patient and listening to the men in her life speak. It was her turn. She’d waited long enough. “Everyone ‘round here thinks I don’t fucking understand anything. So, please, fucking enlighten me. Tell me what I don’t understand!”

           “I told you he couldn’t be trusted,” Tommy spoke up.

           Ella just laughed sarcastically. “And yet you were willing to marry me off to him.” She snarled and pointed at Alfie. “You proud? Proud of what you’ve done? The damage you’ve caused. They’ve got my nephew and we don’t know if he’s even still alive!”

           Alfie couldn’t keep a neutral face. He had no idea about Charlie, no idea what the Oddfellows were up to. But in his anger and humiliation for being lied to, he chose to make a deal.

           Ella closed her fingers around her mother’s ring and walked towards her brother. “Nothing but a pawn to you lot. Isn’t that right, pral?” She gave Tommy a scathing look. “Are we all just pawns? Charlie too? Moving your little pieces ‘cross the board while you stay safe, protected by your soldiers?” She yelled. “Are you both proud? Proud of what you have? Guess what. In the end, when we’ve all died ‘cause of you, you can be comforted by your money. All ‘lone in an empty house, satisfied that you won. Never caring about the people who loved you!”            

           “I didn’t know about Charlie,” Alfie replied honestly. “But if your brother wants to fucking kill me now then let him do it. Step aside and let him. But don’t you fucking dare tell me that I never loved you. Were ready to give you that ring because Tommy were threatening to pass you off to someone else. And I’ll be damned if I let him use you.”

           “If you loved me you never would’ve gone against my family!” Ella matched his volume and clenched her hands into fists. The topaz gem on the ring digging into her palm as her knuckles whitened. “You wouldn’t have put an innocent little boy in danger!”

           “Then step aside, let him shoot me!” Alfie stepped towards her, his cane slamming down onto the concrete. “That’d solve your problems, love. Once ol’ Alfie Solomons is dead and gone, you won’t have any more fucking issues. You can go off with your family and forget ‘bout me. Let me pay for me fucking sins, step aside.”

           Everything inside of Ella became so wound up the more he spoke. Her entire body trembled from all the immense pressure pressing down on her heart. “That’d solve your problems.”

           “I never stopped loving you!” Alfie barked over her voice. “Not once, even when I made this deal. And I fucking hated myself ‘cause of it. The world ain’t built for us, love, no matter what.” He pointed his cane at Tommy. “He’s always going to want to do away with me, won’t he? Even if we were married, he’d want me gone. So better off he does it now.”

           Tommy lowered his gun. “Stand down, Alfie.” He muttered and tucked his gun away. “Michael,”

           Ella hadn’t noticed their cousin had run into the warehouse once he heard all the shouting.

           “Go and tell Moss, it’s Palmer.” The Blinder instructed. “Ella, get back in the car.”

           She took one more look at Alfie. Her body ached from the emotional toll he’d caused her. Despite it all, she still yearned for the past days when things had been so simple between them. When they were in love and it didn’t cause such a fuss. Now she felt like she’d been stretched so thin.

           “I’m sorry.” He mumbled quietly so Tommy wouldn’t hear. “I wish it could work. But I’m being realistic, love. You’re better off without me.”

           He pushed her away with his words. Most likely it was his intention all along whether he realized it or not. With him, Ella would know nothing but friction. She wouldn’t know peace. And as much pain, as it caused him, he would rather see her walk away than suffer beside him. It didn’t matter how in love they were. What mattered was how the odds were stacked against them from the very beginning.

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla​ @giftofdreams​ @biba3434​

Tag list: @deaflikehawkeye​ @octaviareina​ @mylovelykelsifer​

[abrax3s]

He wouldn't want us to cry

Prompt: Person A falls cries themsevles to sleep in Person B's arms

Yes i know its kind of short ;-; im planning on writing bigger oneshots in the future! ;)

Ship: Gray x Juvia

Tagging @sweetmemories2606 because angst

~~~~~

"Juvia, are you going to bed?" Gray called to his wife. His response was silence. He called her name a few more times only to get the same response.

Gray speed walked down the hall then stopped when he heard faint sniffles come from the bed room. "Juvia are you okay?" He said quietly standing infront of the closed door. He opened it slightly only to be met with the sight of her sitting on the bed tightly clutching on a picture frame, her cheeks red from crying.

"Juvia?" He said sitting next to her and looking at the picture she was holding, it was a photo of their son Storm. Storm had passed away a few days ago from difficulties afrer being born. "I miss him." Juvia quietly sobbed. Hearing that made Gray tear up and hug Juvia tightly making them fall onto their backs.

"I know Juvia i do to...so much." He said trying to calm her down "Storm wouldnt want to cry even though he was just a few days old I just know. Juvia's breathing slowed but her crying did not, she didnt say anything after that only letting her exhaustion take over. Gray did so too. They both fell asleep crying in eachothers arms.

Aaaahhhh!! This is so sadddd i'm sorrrryyyy😢😢😭

[be-dazzled]

#TheVampireTales #TVT

Gray Fullbuster, Juvia Lockser FF net: click here Author: K.T. Adlam (xxbedazzledxx) Genre: Supernatural, Romance, Drama

Do you know where your heart is? Do you think you can find it?

It was definitely too early.

The waking light bled through the indigo sky. Its warm colors dispersed throughout the far reaching canvass. The rays colored the dark-washed abode with glowing warmth, from its elaborate foot to the grandeur roofing; revealing the old-world charm of the Manor mansion. Just like the Hegen, the royal manor managed to retain the classic architectural elegance of the Ancient World.

 The Manor stood the test of time; survived generations of humans and vampires alike. The original eclectic and asymmetrical style, reminiscent of the architectures in the pre-vampire period, has managed to survive various restorations. The original owners could not anymore meet the demands of maintaining and preserving the overwhelming size of the estate. Eventually, the estate fell in the hands of Eldest Makarov and was later renamed the Dreyar Royal Manor. Its affairs were personally managed by Queen Rayla Dreyar until her death.

 The Dreyar Royal Manor and the people living in it, regardless of race, held a special place in Queen Rayla’s heart. She did not see her people as subjects but as members of her family that needed taking care of. So she imposed these duties upon herself: to preserve the Manor and to watch over its people. If she was looking down from heaven, Queen Rayla may be crying her heart out at the disheartening sight of her beloved Manor.

 Years of neglect has dulled the once lively home. Now, only stray grass grew on it. Laxus Dreyar, the only son of the Eldest, refused to allow his mother’s efforts and her memory go to vain. So, Laxus took over the management and restored the Manor to its former glory, just how he knew his mother wanted it. The property remained with the Dreyar Family ever since.

 The four hundred acres served as home to those who became members of the Royal Family through the Selection. While attending the prestigious Academy, Queens Lyssandra, Victoria, Samara and Lirabelle, respective queen consorts of the North, East, West and Southern Kingdoms, were residents of the Manor at some point in time.

 Today, the Dreyar Royal Manor was going to welcome its four newest royal residents.

Gajeel stayed in the car and refused to come out; all grumpy and pouty. If anyone told him days ago that he’d be staying at the Dreyar estate and be enrolling into the Academy he would have definitely punched the bastard squarely in the face. But he couldn’t, since that someone was King Gareth Redfox – his father.

 Gajeel has lived for more than a hundred years. His days playing a high school boy had long been behind him. He has seen things and done things no ordinary boy could have. Gajeel Redfox was a man. He grinned at himself. The nights he spent in the sac of numerous strangers painted a triumphant smirk on his lips. Definitely, a man.

 However, he was well aware of the reason of their exile to the Academy. He was present at the Round Table when the Royal Council discussed the matter at hand. The discussion played in his head like broken record.

 Gajeel wasn’t one to be modest in airing his sentiments but when it came down to it he knew, in these trying times, he would never abandon the Royal Family. He would never abandon her. So despite his reservations, Gajeel was now sitting at the passenger’s seat watching as helpers walked in and out of the Dreyar Mansion.

 The Western whiner threw a glance at the other royal with the long and silky hair, of color which he couldn’t decide between white and silver. Gajeel couldn’t help but snort at the sight. The princess had one arm on her hips while the free one gestured here and there, much like she was conducting an orchestra. A smile which rivaled the sun’s radiance was plastered across her face.

 At least, Gajeel thought, someone was enjoying all of this.

 A dim thud pulled his attention toward the vacated driver’s seat. Knightus Dreyar stepped outside the car, shutting the door behind him; his golden hair blazing at the touch of the sun. The backseat was now deserted too. The youngest royal must have left right after Knight, leaving Gajeel no other choice but to follow. But not before he made an audible  and displeased sound. There were a lot of places he would rather be at: the sunny beach, the energetic night-life district and even just in the comfort of his own castle. The Dreyar Royal Estate was definitely not in the list.

 The helpers formed two lines right before the royal quartet and waited to be dismissed. They have been polishing the mansion in anticipation of the arrival of the royals. They have wiped and scrubbed every inch and crony of that place. Who would have thought Princess Mirajane still had a few words to say? Control ran in the blood of her line. It was probably a trait passed down from one Strauss generation to another.

 All eyes looked anywhere but at the royals present. It was common courtesy. Commoners were forbidden to touch or approach a member of the royal family. An ancient rule created by the Caste system to maintain power and reputation. Remnants of this rule, although has eased up, still existed today. Gajeel thought it was preposterous considering this day and age.

 The Prince of the North Kingdom stepped out of the royal four-man line to thank the help for their services. He gave them the whole inspiring speech Gajeel had no interest in listening to. He was thankful though. As an older vampire, Gajeel ought to be the person boring the crowd with this ‘gratitude speech’. But now, he didn’t have to thanks to the golden-haired prince. He hated all these royal formalities and decorum.

 Gajeel studied how Knight carried himself in front of the helpers. Classic Prince Charming, he thought. The Prince from the North Kingdom put great weight on the manners and etiquette impressed upon him since he was a child; a stickler for values and traditions. It was one of his many attractive qualities.

 The Western Prince was just the opposite; not that he wasn’t charming or mannerly himself. He’d meet his mother’s fist if he appeared to exhibit what she deemed ‘unroyal behavior’. Queen Samara was a stern disciplinarian. So, the Prince had the role of well-mannered prince down to a T. If Queen Samara wasn’t looking. Because Gajeel Redfox loved himself a little danger. So once in a while, he allowed himself to slip out of the Prince image. Something, he bet, Knightus Dreyar never did.

 Well, except when a certain red-head was involved.

 Gajeel’s scanning dark eyes landed next on the heiress to the Strauss Crown.

 Mirajane Strauss strictly adhered to rules and regulations. She followed them with no complaints. Even if some of them were considered outdated. But Gajeel could never place her in a single category; compliant in nature but was far from the meek, damsel-in-distress stereotype. As the first in the third generation of royal vampires, she was the strongest in that line. Mira has proven it on numerous occasions.

 She was a paradox; Sugar and spice. Sweet and deadly. So much so that even Gajeel would think twice in challenging her. He made that mistake once and would never dare do it again.

 Juvia of the East Kingdom was a little rebellious just like Gajeel. She too was a lover of danger. Feisty and fearless – always sought thrill and freedom. She always tried to break away from the subservient princess she was expected to be. Always challenging the status quo. Juvia would never please anyone, not if it didn’t suit her interests. So did Gajeel.

 The only difference between the two, which earned Gajeel’s respect toward the youngest royal, was the latter’s display of blatant defiance even in front of her mother. Something Gajeel could never dream of doing. Juvia was a rebel without a cause and just sought to stir trouble. She was all sorts of fun. That was why among the three, he was most fond of the Juvia.

 But lately, something was different. There was something about Juvia that felt different. Gajeel peered at the Eastern heiress as if by doing so he would find the answer. What was it? Why did Juvia seem different?

 Reality drew Gajeel’s attention back to the Manor’s head-servant addressing the Northern prince. Oba Babasama was the only one allowed to do so for having served the Dreyar Family for more than two centuries.

 “Please, Your Highness, if there is anything we can help with, never hesitate to call.” informed Oba. Clearly, the helpers were at the royals’ disposal to answer to every beck and call.

 “Thank you, Oba Babasama.” answered Knight. “We promise not to be a burden.”

 Gajeel smirked. Says who, he thought. His sly smile having every intention to do the opposite.

 One by one, the helpers dispersed, leaving the royal quartet alone at the property. Gajeel leaned against the Royce and observed Mirajane, not at all knowing what she was thinking. Then, he heard her voice, her back still at him.

 “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Mira inhaled the smell of fresh morning. “Since our last adventure?”

 Mira spun to face the three royals still standing beside the Rolls Royce Dawn. She clasped her hands together and declared with confidence. The fully awakened morning dulled in the brightness of her smile. The morning dew, the environment, all promised a fresh start.

 “I just know it. This is going to be a one kick-ass year!”

 “What are you now? A fortune-teller?” quipped Gajeel as he peeled himself off the Royce.

 Mira ignored Gajeel’s comment and started for the main door. She spoke of her plans for the semester as she strutted, drowning the other royals in her words and excitement. No one knew where she was getting all that energy early in the morning.

 “Geez, woman. Take it down a notch.” Gajeel massaged his temple in annoyance.

 With Mira’s youthful enthusiasm, Juvia, somehow, was hopeful. She wanted to believe it. That this year was going to be better. Kick-ass. She just couldn’t shake off, for some unknown reason, the unsettling feeling weighing on her stomach.

 Juvia quelled her doubts with one thought: she should be thankful. It would have been lonely, getting vanished to the Academy alone. It was selfish, she knew. A part of her felt a little guilty but the part that won was gratitude. It didn’t hurt to be selfish sometimes, did it?

 Juvia fell behind, just one step outside the door, under the roofed entry porch. She gathered her thoughts. Juvia was beyond grateful. She did not have to do it alone. Mira, Gajeel and Knight, they blindly came to her side. Abandoned everything at the drop of a hat. No questions asked. Even though she has not opened up to them yet. Even though she has not opened up to anyone yet. Of course, she knew, at some point she had to tell them the truth. They deserved the truth, they earned it. She wasn’t going to keep these people she loved in the dark.

 Just not today.

 “Thanks.” muttered Juvia. Although the intended benefactors weren’t in sight, she knew they heard her – loud and clear.

 As she pushed the door open, Juvia felt her phone vibrate. She stopped just inches away from the threshold and pulled out the phone from the back pocket to see who the message was from. The screen read ‘Lucy H’ with a heart emoticon in place of a period. She swiped the excerpt of the message to read the full text.

 ‘Are you at the estate? I’m sorry I couldn’t be there. We’re preparing for the opening ceremony and Erza could be a little… you know.’

 Juvia understood. From what Lucy has told her, as the President of the student body, Erza could really be a little… dictator. The royal tapped in her response assuring her best friend that her absence was excused.

 ‘See you at school.’

 Juvia stared at the last sentence she had just typed in. Her heart thumped. Was she even ready for it? Was she ready to see and meet people? She shook her head. Of course, she was. She had to be.

 The princess slid her phone back into her pocket and crossed the threshold. But before she shut the door close behind her, Juvia couldn’t help but remember what Mira just said.

 “Kick-ass year, huh?”

 Juvia let out a breath; half worrying, half hoping.

 Did you trade it for something, somewhere? Better just to have it

  Do you know what your fate is And are you trying to shake it

 The new day forced Juvia’s eyes open, peeking through the cracks between her room’s heavy curtains. She covered her eyes before the sun finally ruined her retinas. Her pupils fixated on the stone on her ring finger. Sapphire, the holy gem. Juvia always took off her sun ring before going to sleep and would only wear it the following morning. Last night, however, she wore her sun ring through the night. Something she hasn’t done before.

 Juvia would have rolled to the other side to get more sleep but she couldn’t go back to it even if she wanted to. Her entire being was wide awake. It was not like she was excited or anything. The princess just had a hard time falling asleep last night. It has been a while since she last left her castle. Her body was adjusting to the new environment.

 Juvia propped herself on the bed, sitting on the comfortable mattress. Getting out of bed proved to be a struggle. She glanced at the clock sitting on her bedside table; it read five. Too early, she thought.

 She wasn’t really in the spirits to begin the day. Should she skip it? Juvia stared at her curtains and pictured the radiant sun behind them. Today was the first day of school. Like a stranger in a new town, she felt anxious. Of what, she asked herself. People? How ridiculous.

 Finally deciding it was futile staying in bed, Juvia willed herself up, swung her feet at the side of the bed and shuffled to the bathroom. She dawdled over the morning ritual of showering and dressing. Juvia did not give much thought about her outfit. Anything would do. She studied her reflection in the mirror: ocean eyes, blue locks, porcelain skin and slender figure. Everything about her looked the same. How come Juvia felt different?

 Princess Juvia descended the stairs to an inviting smell of Gajeel’s cooking and humming. Despite his tough persona, the Western prince was a commendable cook. Although, Juvia would never admit it to him. Gajeel need not have another reason to inflate his ballooning ego.

 “Did you sleep well last night?”

 Mirajane raised her eyes off her phone screen and greeted the youngest royal. Apparently, Juvia was the last person to come downstairs.

 “Yes.” lied Juvia.

 There was no need to worry Mira, who returned to typing on her phone. Juvia sat between the former and the prince with the golden hair. The latter was buried in a book.

 Juvia noticed the empty seats around the kitchen counter. Erza and Lucy should have joined them for breakfast. But there was still no sign of any of the two. Juvia awoken her phone. No unread messages. She put it to sleep and set the phone on the table next to her plate. Lucy probably didn’t sleep at the mansion last night, Juvia thought, but she should have left her a message.

 As the three young royals waited for breakfast, Juvia averted her focus on the television. The morning news was on. They were showing aftermath of a rebel attack at one of the villages in the East Kingdom. The picture shattered Juvia’s indifference. Her heart pounded at the sight of half-burnt structures and the casualties surrounding them. The attack was still fresh. The thick gray smoke replaced the sky.

 The anchor informed that the fire has already been extinguished and the entire situation was already under control. But it pained Juvia to watch her people coming out of the burnt buildings, screaming and crying in pain and at loss. She silently prayed that help came straightaway.

 Troubled ocean eyes searched for two certain figures in the background. There she saw a tall masculine figure donned in the official East Kingdom Commander-in-Chief uniform. He was talking to some familiar faces she always sees in her father’s meeting room.

 She was relieved when the other figure she was looking for wasn’t anywhere around the site. Juvia was sure her mother wanted to be there, even argued with her father to be allowed to help. Be of use. She was also sure her father refused. King Juliann always had his family’s safety in mind and in priority. Hence, her exile to the Dreyar Manor.

 Grit and urgency stirred inside her but her rippling thoughts were quickly interrupted.

 “I know what you are thinking and there’s no way in hell the Council would allow you anywhere near that site.”

 Mirajane did not take her eyes off her phone but she quickly quashed any thoughts of Juvia coming to the village to help.

 “I wasn’t thinking that.”

 That was Juvia’s second lie today. Good way to start the first day of school, she sarcastically thought. But Mira was right so Juvia conceded.

 “Bon appetite!”

 Gajeel jumped in with an offer of a delicious breakfast. He laid four plates of four-layered pancakes with a side of crisp bacon on the counter.

 “Man, good looks, great body and crazy set of talents. No wonder women fall at my feet.”

 Mirajane stifled a laugh.

 “What are you laughing at? Just eat your food. You, too.” Gajeel pointed at Mira then Juvia. “Don’t leave anything on that plate.”

 “Yes, mother.” quipped Juvia, earning a subtle laugh from her company.

 Then, the four royals ate in a lighter atmosphere. Despite the lingering worry wearing her down, Juvia hoped she would feel better as the day wore on.

 You're doing your best and you're best look You're praying that you'll make it

  Juvia leaned her head against the car window. She got tired of watching Gajeel banging his head and drumming his fingers with the tune playing in the car. Instead, she shifted her attention to the line of trees and the green expanse that moved inside her window like a reel of still images. Her mind was shut and the beautiful scenery passed before her eyes in a blur. It was better that way, she thought. She did not like thoughts visiting her.

 Juvia felt the car slowing down; her body leaned a little on the side when the car made a slow turn. The head of the clock tower peeked above the trees that blocked the Academy’s entire body. It was the most dominant feature of the school. As the car progressed, the ridges of the structure’s roofing came to view until the rest of the building fully materialized before Juvia’s indifferent blue eyes.

 As one of the few surviving original structures in the pre-vampire period and still being part of the Dreyar Estate, the influence of that era’s architecture was strongly present. All the buildings in the Academy’s compound were constructed out of the same materials to resemble each other and fall within one common motif.

 Even yards away, Juvia could distinctly hear excited shrills and random thought patterns all at once. She pressed her temple and tried to block the noise off. It was rude to eavesdrop, after all.

 Knight’s Royce slowed down as they approached the Academy’s gate which was neither intimidating nor welcoming. Without any interrogation or confirmation, the on-post guard quickly ordered the gate to be opened. Knight’s Royce needed no introduction. Inside, the car purred through the open space before it finally made a full stop.

 Juvia stepped out of the car, not quite sure how to feel walking into the Academy’s grounds. She landed on both feet. She took measured steps as if she was testing the ground for the first time. She was finally here. Which only meant one thing, that everything that happened was real. She wasn’t having a bad dream. Reality slapped Juvia in the face as cold as the wind that winter blows.

 The Eastern Princess felt a light tap on her shoulder. She spun around to see Gajeel; his face pulled in a frown.

 “You okay?”

 Juvia nodded in response, offering the prince a small smile. Gajeel wanted to tell her that it didn’t suit her. The latter chose to keep quiet, for now. He’d save the questions for later.

 “Are you ready?”

 It was Knight who spoke next, taking his sunglasses off, just coming out of the driver’s seat. Although he addressed the group, Juvia caught his gaze and couldn’t help but feel that the question was directed at her.

 “You betcha!”

 Mira climbed down the car, completing the royal quartet.

 Juvia had to thank her. Mira responding on her behalf removed the thorn that was caught up in her throat. She couldn’t quite settle on how she felt about everything. Her mind was in a big mess.

 Juvia let the peppy royal lead her to the front of the main building where she saw a number of students already gathered. Knight started after them with Gajeel in a close-knit pack.

 The chatters at the yard suddenly stopped like someone just turned off a switch. Babble of gasps and sighs flared up. All eyes were awestruck. The fact that royal bloods were approaching the quad was definitely a surprise. The silence was short-lived, however. In a split second, the switch was on and the entire Academy buzzed back to life.

 Too many mental thoughts bombarded Juvia’s brain. The discreet murmurs were loudly resounding in her ears. It was all dizzying. But the thought patterns were boiled down into one: that none of them could believe who were walking towards and amongst them.

 It wasn’t all strange for Juvia. She was used to it. She was used to being stared at, talked about, the apple of the eye. There was a time she enjoyed the attention. If this was the old Juvia, she would give every queen bee a run for their money. It was easy. All Juvia needed to do was nod, wave and charm the audience with her magnetic smile. Easy. Well, it used to be.

 While Juvia had to put up appearances, Mirajane smiled and waved like she was about to walk into a hero’s welcome. She was accustomed to a grand entrance and naturally fell right into it. Juvia thought her jaw was going to break from all the fake smiling. She had no choice. Noblesse oblige. Privilege entailed responsibility. And there was no greater privilege than waiting next in line for the royal crown.

 It wasn’t long until the four royalties were surrounded as soon as they stopped at the middle of the yard. A few familiar faces, those who were part of the royal circle, approached and greeted them. They quickly exchanged pleasantries but didn’t stay long. The other students, those who thought did not deserve to even look at the royals, simply stood and stared at the sidelines. Even inside the Academy, the Caste system was in full force.

 Through the chatters, the voice that relaxed Juvia called out, keeping her uneasiness at bay. Lucy Heartfilia welcomed the royal quartet. She ran towards them and threw her arms around the royal with the blue locks, pulling her in a tight and welcoming embrace. Juvia reciprocated with equal warmth.

 “Can’t believe you guys are finally here.” whispered Lucy. “I’m really sorry I can’t be at the Manor to welcome you.”

 It was Juvia who broke the hug first only to look at the blonde and reassure her.

 “I told you it’s no big deal.”

 She hasn’t seen the young blonde since the events after the Selection, after the attack at the Lockser Castle. Lucy stayed with the Lockser Royal Family ever since she was orphaned. She and Juvia became best friends, almost attached to the hip. In summers and school breaks, the two would play, hang around and do just about anything together until the break ends. That particular summer, Lucy was told not to come home for a while. Just until King Juliann sorted out the mess. Juvia knew her father was right. She did not want to put Lucy in any danger. So even if it broke her heart, Juvia advised her best friend not to return for the time being.

 Juvia caught up on something. She squinted as her eyes examined the young blonde.

 “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” Lucy giggled as she questioned the strange look Juvia was giving her.

 The young blonde never wore make-up but her skin was as flawless as ever, even glowing. Lucy’s skin could almost parallel Juvia’s fair and translucent one. But Juvia’s curious eyes landed on the cute red ribbon sitting atop of Lucy’s head. The band pushed her hair back, save for her side bangs. Her face was glowing.

 Juvia was about to open her mouth and tease her about it when…

 “Drop dead.”

 “Same to you.”

 Knight and Erza already started their usual derisive exchange; swallowing the words Juvia wanted to say. Contempt was raging in the duo’s eyes, his blue and her chocolate ones. Knowing the two and spending almost two years with them, Juvia was sure it was the most civil greeting they both could muster. She couldn’t help but think though; didn’t they miss each other, at least?

 The woman with the blazing scarlet hair would have added something if not for the first bell which interrupted them. Erza started towards the main building but not before she and Knight stared each other down for a good moment that Juvia thought would stretch on forever.

 “Those two surely got along.” commented Gajeel with a tone that implied the opposite.

 Lucy linked arms with Juvia, promising her that they will sit next to each other.

 “Who would believe, in a million years, we’re going to end up in the same class?”

 Even Juvia was amused with the fact that she was older than Lucy by a hundred years. Yet, here they were, about to begin the school year together. Her anxiety and fears melted away, long forgotten.

 “I’ll definitely make sure we’ll be sitting next to each other in every class.” informed Lucy. “Then, we’re going to school dances together.” She was already planning the entire year ahead. “Then, there’s prom!” she exclaimed.

 The blonde’s excitement was contagious. For a moment, Juvia felt like her old self again. For the first time since the Selection, Juvia felt excited about something.

“Then, we can pick the same elective classes. I don’t know which one you’ll like but… oh!”

 Lucy paused, stopping Juvia with her, when she remembered something. She retrieved her arm for a moment to take out a piece of paper from her bag.

 “I copied a schedule for you so you don’t get lost or anything.”

 Juvia stared at the paper. The table showed the semester’s class schedule.

 “I hope we’re in the same classes.”

 “Of course!” exclaimed Lucy. “I made sure of that.” She winked.

 It seemed like Lucy was able to pull a few strings. She was, after all, the student body Vice President. It was easy to get absorbed in conversation with Lucy. She was enthusiastic about everything. Like nothing was wrong. Nothing was ever wrong. A little ball of sunshine. Lucy was always in high spirits and she could light up a room with her mere presence.

 Just what Juvia needed.

 But before she could step into the main building, a sudden powerful feeling slapped her at the back. Juvia felt her heart skip a beat. Her ears throbbed. She recognized that feeling anywhere, anytime.

 Do you know where your love is Do you think that you lost it You felt it so strong, But nothing's turned out how you wanted

 Juvia felt it when he was around, whenever they both were in one room. She turned away from Lucy for a moment and gazed at the side. There he was, at the middle of the sea of running students; making his way towards the main building. The other students passed him by but Juvia’s eyes were fixed at that one person – the raven-haired boy.

 A gripping feeling transfixed her to where she stood. It ravaged her being from head to toe, like a blanket of misery covered her blind and suffocated her in an instant. There was only one person who could cause this feeling, Juvia recognized it easily. It wasn’t like she didn’t want to see him. She knew she was going to bump into him in the school one way or another. Juvia just hoped it wasn’t today.

 Well all I need is the air I breathe and a place to rest my head

 Gray slung his backpack and walked without hurry. It was the first day of school and he was already running late. So, what was the point? He took his time even when the main building was already in sight. He paused, so suddenly that the person behind bumped into him.

 Gray did not hear him apologize. His entire mental and physical functions were focused on one figure standing before the building’s main entrance. Her blue locks were undeniable. It was certainly her, Princess Juvia Lockser in the flesh.

 His heart was racing. Gray played this scenario in his head a hundred times. How should he approach her? What should he say? All his planned responses escaped him now that Juvia appeared before him, a short distance away. He wasn’t dreaming, it was Juvia.

 Get a grip, Gray, he scolded himself. When he finally recovered from the shock, Gray told himself to be polite. First things first, he needed to greet her. Gray settled with offering the princess a smile. He was so unsure what to do that the small line on his face appeared rather awkward.

 Juvia returned the smile, probably out of courtesy. But Gray noticed something missing – the spark. He looked into her ocean eyes; they betrayed her smile because there was nothing there but void, an endless and boundless emptiness.

 A sunken feeling coursed through Gray; restraining him without shackles. He just stood there like an abandoned rock thrown in a rushing river: still and quiet. He was helpless and all he could do was watch Juvia disappear behind the main building’s entrance.

 He silently prayed that she would look back and wished that he was wrong; that the sparkle in her eyes never left. She never did; not even a glance. Gray knew he did not have the right but it did not stop him from carrying a heavy heart all day.

Well, bless my soul, you're a lonely soul Cause you won’t let go of anything you hold

AN: Okay so, as promised! Happy Halloween you guys!

[godsfavdarling]

friends with benefits

pairing: Spencer Reid x Elle Greenaway

summary: There's some tension between Spencer and Elle which might get resolved.

list of chapters, also available on wattpad and Ao3, my masterlist

previous chapter --- next chapter

warnings: smut (blowjob, fingering)

words: 4,6k

a/n: we are soooo back! If yall like it I'll keep writing! I have more free time now! As always comments are very much appreciated! Thank you for reading!

Elle sat at her desk, absently flipping through case files. The steady hum of the bullpen provided a backdrop to her thoughts, which were consumed by memories of that night with Spencer. She found it increasingly difficult to focus, her mind wandering back to the feel of his lips on hers, the warmth of his hands on her waist.

She glanced up, catching sight of Spencer as he entered the room. Her heart gave a little leap at the sight of him, but it was quickly followed by a pang of disappointment. He avoided her gaze, his eyes firmly fixed on the stack of papers in his hands.

"Morning, Reid," she called out, trying to keep her tone casual.

"Morning," he replied, his voice barely above a mumble as he hurried past her desk.

Elle watched him go, a mix of frustration and sadness welling up inside her. She knew he was avoiding her, and it hurt more than she cared to admit.

Taking a deep breath, she decided she couldn't let this go on without at least trying to address it.

Later that day, when the bullpen was quieter and most of the team had left, she found her chance. Spencer was at the coffee machine, his back to her. She approached him, determined to at least start a conversation.

"Hey, Spencer," she said softly, hoping not to startle him.

He turned, a look of surprise flashing across his face. "Oh, hi Elle," he said, his tone guarded.

"Can we talk?" she asked, trying to keep her voice gentle. "I feel like we've been... distant."

Spencer hesitated, glancing around the bullpen as if searching for an escape route. The tension in his shoulders was palpable, his eyes darting nervously from desk to desk. Finally, he looked back at Elle, his voice strained. "I'm not sure now is the best time," he said.

"Why?" Elle pressed, her gaze steady and unwavering.

"I... I have a lot of paperwork left," Spencer lied, his fingers fidgeting with the stack of files in his hand.

Elle arched an eyebrow, her skepticism evident. "No, you don't."

"You don't know that," he retorted, a defensive edge creeping into his voice.

"Yes, I do. I can see it. You finished hours ago. You're doing Morgan’s paperwork," she pointed out, her tone firm and unwavering, cutting through his excuse with a clear note of frustration.

"Exactly. As I said, I still have more paperwork," he insisted, clutching at his excuse like a lifeline.

"Spencer..." Elle's voice was a mixture of frustration and concern, her eyes searching his face for any sign of the Spencer she knew - the one who was always honest, always straightforward.

"Maybe next time," he said abruptly, turning on his heel and walking away quickly. Elle watched his retreating figure, feeling a deep sigh escape her lips. She stood there for a moment, the weight of their unresolved tension pressing down on her.

The bullpen was a blur of activity around her, agents and analysts bustling about with their own tasks, but Elle felt a world apart. She returned to her desk, her mind racing with thoughts of Spencer. His avoidance was tearing at her.

Elle tried to focus on her work, but her eyes kept drifting to Spencer. She noticed the way he hunched over his desk, the way he buried himself in files and reports, anything to keep from facing her. 

Why was he avoiding her so adamantly? Did he not like the kiss? Had she misread the signs? Obviously since he left so quickly. But she was so sure. Doubts swirled in her mind, each one more troubling than the last.

As the day wore on, Elle found herself replaying their kiss in her mind. The memory was vivid - the softness of his lips, the tentative yet eager way he had responded. There had been something real in that kiss.

She knew pushing him too hard might drive him further away, but she also knew they couldn't continue like this indefinitely. 

The silence between them was deafening, and the distance only seemed to grow with each passing day. Elle resolved to give Spencer the space he needed, but she also knew she wouldn't wait forever. Something had to give.

For the next few weeks, Spencer kept his distance from her. Their work continued as usual, but Spencer carefully avoided any situations that might lead to another moment alone with her. He busied himself with case files and research, using every available distraction to keep his mind off the kiss they had shared.

His plan of avoiding her and talking about that night so far was successful. It had been weeks, and it seemed like Elle had given up, but still, sometimes he caught her staring at him like he was a wounded animal. He hated it. 

He hated that his feelings were so transparent, that his awkwardness and uncertainty were on full display. Spencer’s mind was a tumult of confusion and longing. He replayed the kiss over and over, the softness of her lips, the warmth of her touch. It had felt so right, yet the implications terrified him. He couldn’t afford to let his emotions cloud his judgment, not when their jobs demanded clear heads and professional boundaries.

It had been a few weeks since that night, and the team found themselves in the middle of a particularly challenging case. They were in a small town in Ohio, tracking a serial arsonist who had escalated to murder. 

The unsub had already claimed three victims, each one found in the charred remains of their homes, and the pressure to catch him was mounting. The team gathered in the local police station, the air thick with tension.

Hotch stood at the front of the room, outlining their strategy. "We need to divide and conquer. Morgan, you'll be with JJ interviewing witnesses. Spencer and Elle, I need you two to go through the fire department's reports and cross-reference them with the victim's backgrounds."

Spencer glanced at Elle, his expression tense, then quickly looked away. "I can manage the reports on my own," he said, his voice a little too quick, too defensive. The room went silent, everyone exchanging puzzled glances. Morgan raised an eyebrow, and JJ's lips formed a thin line of concern.

Hotch's gaze sharpened, and his voice took on a firm edge. "Reid, I assigned you and Elle to this task for a reason. You will work together."

Spencer shifted uncomfortably, feeling the weight of everyone's eyes on him. "Fine," he muttered, his shoulders slumping slightly in resignation. 

Elle watched him, her own heart aching at the strain between them. She knew something had to give, but right now, they had a job to do.

The rest of the team dispersed to their assignments, leaving Spencer and Elle standing together in an awkward silence. Elle took a deep breath, trying to push past the tension. "Let's get to it," she said, her voice steady but her eyes searching for any sign of the Spencer she knew.

Spencer nodded, his jaw tight. "Yeah, let's go," he replied, leading the way to the records room. As they walked, the silence between them was deafening, filled with unspoken words and unresolved emotions.

The records room was dimly lit and cluttered with stacks of old reports and files. Spencer and Elle settled at a large, cluttered table, spreading out the fire department's reports and victim backgrounds. The only sounds were the rustling of paper and the occasional scribble of a pen.

After a while, Spencer looked up from his stack of reports, his expression determined. "I can look through these myself," he said, his voice tense. "I'll be quick. It will take me..." He glanced at the pile, running his finger along the edges of the papers, calculating. "...about 1 hour and 12 minutes."

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Elle's eyes narrowed, her frustration bubbling to the surface. "Are you trying to get rid of me?" she snapped, unable to keep the anger out of her voice.

Spencer flinched at her tone but stood his ground. "No, I'm just trying to be efficient."

"Efficient?" Elle echoed, her voice rising. "What are you really doing, Spencer? This isn't about efficiency. You've been avoiding me for weeks. What's going on?"

Spencer's jaw tightened, and he avoided her gaze. "Nothing's going on, Elle. I'm just trying to do my job."

"Don't lie to me," Elle shot back, her eyes blazing. "I've known you long enough to know when you're hiding something. We need to talk about what happened."

Spencer finally looked up, his eyes filled with a mix of guilt and frustration. "There's nothing to talk about," he insisted, his voice tight.

"Bullshit," Elle shot back, her gaze unwavering.

Spencer sighed heavily, his shoulders sagging. "What do you want to talk about then?" he asked, his tone resigned.

"How about that night you ran out of my apartment?" Elle's voice softened, concern etched in her features as she searched his eyes.

"I had to leave," Spencer replied quickly, his words almost defensive.

Elle stared at him, her expression pleading. "Spencer... please," she implored softly. "You're my friend, at least that's what I thought. I'm sorry about that night. I'm sorry, okay? I clearly misread the signs. Let's just forget about it and let's be friends."

"Okay," Spencer murmured quietly, but Elle could see the hint of disappointment in his eyes.

"Why did you run away?" Elle pressed, her voice gentle but insistent.

"You said we should forget," Spencer said quietly.

"Forget that. I need to know. Why did you run away?" Elle asked, her tone insistent.

"I just... I don't want to complicate things," Spencer admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Complicate things?" Elle repeated, her voice softening slightly. "Spencer, ignoring this is what's complicating things. We need to talk about what happened. We can't keep pretending it didn't."

Spencer sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I know," he said quietly, his brow furrowed in thought. "We're colleagues, Elle. Statistics show that workplace relationships can lead to complications. Studies indicate that nearly 70% of workplace romances end in dissatisfaction or even damage professional reputations. And considering our line of work, where trust and focus are critical, the risk of distraction is even higher. It's not just about us, it's about our team dynamics, our effectiveness in solving cases…"

He paused, his gaze searching Elle's face for understanding. "I'm not saying I don't care about you, Elle. It's quite the opposite. I value our friendship and working relationship immensely. I just... I worry about the implications if we were to cross that line."

Spencer's words came out in a rush, his nervous energy palpable as he struggled to articulate his concerns. He leaned back in his chair, fidgeting with a pen in his hands.

Elle looked at Spencer, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "I get it. You're right. As always," she said, her tone soft with a hint of amusement.

"Not always," he added modestly.

"Yes, always. You're always right," Elle replied with a playful smile, her eyes meeting his with warmth.

The team managed to catch the unsub after a tense standoff. It was Elle who had tackled him to the ground, subduing him just as he was about to escape. The unsub put up a fierce fight, and in the struggle, Elle ended up with a black eye. The rest of the team had arrived just in time to secure the scene, but Elle's injury was the most noticeable souvenir of their confrontation.

Later that evening, as Elle sat in her hotel room, a knock sounded on her door. She opened it to find Spencer standing there, looking concerned. He held a small bag filled with painkillers and other first-aid supplies.

"Hey," he said softly, his eyes scanning her bruised face. "I brought you some things that might help with the pain."

Elle offered him a small smile. "Thanks, Spencer, but I'm fine," she replied, trying to brush off his worry.

Spencer's brow furrowed. "Elle, you need to take care of that injury. A black eye can be pretty serious. You should ice it, and take some ibuprofen to reduce the swelling. And you need to be careful not to…"

"Spencer," Elle interrupted gently, "it's okay. It's been worse before. I appreciate the concern, but I really am fine."

He hesitated, clearly wanting to say more, but then nodded. "Alright," he said reluctantly.

Elle glanced at the small bottle of whiskey on the table. "How about a drink instead?" she suggested, raising an eyebrow. "I could use one after today."

"Sure," Spencer agreed, though his uncertainty was evident. He had never been much of a drinker, but he didn't want to leave her alone, especially after the day's events.

They sat across from each other, Elle sinking into the armchair while Spencer took a seat on the sofa. She poured them each a glass of whiskey, handing one to Spencer.

"To a job well done," Elle toasted, clinking her glass against his.

Spencer smiled faintly and took a small sip, the burn of the alcohol surprising him. They sat in a comfortable silence for a moment, the tension from the day slowly ebbing away.

"How are you really feeling?" Spencer asked, breaking the silence, his eyes searching hers for any sign of discomfort.

Elle sighed, leaning back in her chair. "Honestly? Tired, sore, but... I feel good. We got him. That's what matters."

Spencer nodded, his eyes still filled with concern. "You were amazing out there today. I don't know how you do it."

Elle shrugged, taking a sip of her drink. "Just doing my job. We all are. Besides," she added with a wry smile, "I've had worse. A black eye is nothing. Today was a success."

Spencer looked down at his drink, swirling it in the glass. "I just... I worry about you, Elle."

She reached out, placing a hand on his knee. "I know you do. And I appreciate it. But I can handle myself. You don't need to worry so much."

He looked up, meeting her gaze. "I can't help it," he admitted, his voice soft. "I care about you."

Elle's expression softened, "I care about you too, Spencer. More than you know."

Her gaze drifted over him as he sat across from her, his lean frame slightly hunched, his neat hair perfectly in place. She noted the delicate features of his face and the way his furrowed brows framed his intelligent, earnest eyes. There was a gentleness to him, an almost fragile quality that belied the strength she knew he possessed. 

They sat in silence, the tension between them palpable. Spencer looked up from his drink, catching her stare, and for a moment, their eyes locked. She could see the uncertainty and curiosity mirrored in his gaze, a reflection of her own conflicted feelings.

Finally, breaking the silence that hung heavy between them, Elle asked "Did you like the kiss?", her tone gentle yet probing.

Spencer hesitated, his brow furrowing slightly. "What?" he replied, caught off guard by her directness.

"You heard me. Did you like it?" Elle pressed, her gaze steady on his.

"Um... yeah, but I don't think..." Spencer began, his words trailing off uncertainly.

"How much did you like it? A lot?" Elle persisted, leaning forward slightly, her curiosity evident.

Spencer shifted uncomfortably in his seat, meeting her gaze reluctantly. "Elle..." he started, unsure how to articulate his feelings.

"Just answer me, Reid," Elle urged softly, her voice gentle yet insistent.

"Yes," Spencer admitted quietly, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush. "I liked it... a lot."

"Hmm," Elle murmured thoughtfully, a small smile playing on her lips. "I liked it too. I'm glad."

Spencer chuckled nervously, a hint of embarrassment coloring his expression as he brushed a hand through his hair.

"You're a good kisser," Elle added, her tone warm and teasing.

Spencer chuckled again, his nerves evident but his smile genuine. "Thanks," he replied softly.

"You know... sometimes people can just enjoy themselves, have fun together and not worry," Elle continued, her tone turning more serious. "Don't worry about feelings and relationships."

Spencer looked at her, a mixture of confusion and concern in his eyes. "I worry about your feelings," he admitted quietly.

"You know what I mean, Reid," Elle said gently.

He sighed softly, his gaze dropping to his knees. 

"I like you. You like me. I can see how you're looking at me," Elle continued, her voice earnest. "We can still be friends and work together and... have some fun."

Spencer swallowed nervously, processing her words carefully. "I'm not sure I'm following," he confessed, his voice hesitant.

"Do you want to have sex?" Elle asked bluntly, her eyes searching for his response.

Spencer stared at her, flustered, his face turning a deep shade of red. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, and his mind raced with conflicting thoughts.

"I... uh..." he stammered, looking away as he tried to collect himself. "Elle, this is... unexpected."

She leaned back slightly, giving him space while maintaining her steady gaze. "I know, Spencer. But I'm serious. We both felt something that night. We both need something right now. Why not each other?"

Spencer took a deep breath, his eyes flicking back to hers. "But... What about our friendship? Our work? What if things get complicated?"

Elle smiled softly, understanding his concerns. "We can set boundaries. We can be clear about what this is and what it isn't. We respect each other, right? We can make it work."

He hesitated, biting his lip as he considered her words. "But what if it affects how we work together? What if it changes things between us?"

"It doesn't have to," Elle replied gently. "We'll communicate. We'll be honest with each other. And if at any point either of us feels uncomfortable or wants to stop, we will. No hard feelings."

Spencer looked into her eyes, searching for any sign of doubt or insincerity. He found none. Just honesty and a shared desire. "You really want this?"

"I do," Elle said firmly. "I think we can be adults about this. And I think it could be good for us. A distraction, a way to unwind. No strings attached, just... mutual benefit."

Spencer nodded slowly, feeling a strange mix of excitement and apprehension. "Okay," he said quietly. "But we need to promise each other, if it starts to get complicated, we stop. We talk."

"Absolutely," Elle agreed. "No pressure, no expectations. Just us, taking it one step at a time."

Spencer felt a small smile tug at his lips, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "Alright then. Friends with benefits."

Elle smiled back, squeezing his hand gently. "Friends with benefits."

She stood up, taking a few steps to position herself in front of Spencer, who was still sitting on the couch looking up at her. She bent down, placing her hands on the backrest of the couch, her face inches from his. Her eyes locked onto his, and Spencer felt a flutter of nerves and anticipation in his stomach.

For a moment, they just stared at each other, the room filled with a tense, expectant silence. Elle's eyes searched his, and Spencer could see the determination and warmth in her gaze. He felt his breath quicken as she slowly moved her face closer, her lips brushing lightly against his.

The initial contact was soft, almost tentative, as if testing the waters. Spencer's eyes fluttered closed, his heart pounding in his chest. Elle's lips were warm and inviting, and he responded, pressing back gently.

Their kisses were slow at first, exploring and savoring the moment. Elle's hand moved to cup the side of his face, her thumb caressing his cheek. Spencer's hands found their way to her waist, holding her gently as if she might slip away.

As the kiss deepened, a spark ignited between them. Elle's movements became more insistent, her lips parting to invite him in. 

Spencer hesitated for a brief moment before following her lead, his tongue tentatively brushing against hers. The sensation was electric, sending a shiver down his spine.

Elle's hands moved from the backrest to his shoulders, pulling him closer as she straddled his lap. Spencer's hands slid up her back, feeling the warmth of her skin through her shirt. Their kisses grew more urgent, a mix of passion and need. 

Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him even closer. Spencer's hands roamed her back, gripping her tighter as their kiss became more intense. 

He could feel the heat of her body against his, the rhythm of her breath matching his own. Their tongues danced together, exploring and tasting, the kiss filled with a hunger that had been building for months.

Elle pulled back slightly, her forehead resting against his, both of them breathing heavily. She looked into his eyes, her expression a mix of desire and affection. "You okay?" she whispered, her voice husky.

Spencer nodded, his eyes still closed, a small smile playing on his lips. "Yeah," he breathed. "More than okay."

Elle smiled back, pressing a soft kiss to his lips once more before pulling away just enough to speak. "Good. Because I think we're just getting started."

She stood up and took his hand, urging him to stand up too. She leaned in and kissed him again, her lips soft and insistent against his. 

With a gentle pull, she led them over to her bed, sitting him down and then kneeling before him. Spencer's breath hitched, his heart pounding in his chest.

"Wait," he said, his voice trembling. 

Elle paused, looking up at him with concern. "Do you want to stop? It's okay if you do."

Spencer's face flushed, and he could feel his arousal, hard and insistent, straining against his pants. He was overwhelmed, the intensity of his emotions and the situation pressing down on him. He put his face in his hands, trying to gather his thoughts.

"Is everything okay?" Elle asked softly, her voice full of genuine concern.

He nodded, taking a deep breath. "I'm fine, it's just... I've never been with a girl before, and it feels wrong. You… doing this, and I don't even know what I'm doing."

Elle's expression softened, and she reached out to gently cup his cheek still kneeling between his legs. "It's okay, Spencer. I'll show you. We'll take it slow. Can I keep going?"

He swallowed hard, then nodded. "Yes, please."

With a reassuring smile, Elle continued. She leaned in, kissing him again, this time more gently. Her hands moved to unbutton his pants, freeing him from his constraints. 

She wrapped her fingers around his length, feeling him shudder at her touch. She began to pleasure him with her mouth, her movements slow and deliberate, ensuring he was comfortable every step of the way.

Her lips slid over him, her tongue swirling and teasing. Spencer's breath came in ragged gasps. He watched her, a mix of awe and desire in his eyes. The sight of her, head bobbing rhythmically, sent waves of pleasure coursing through him. He couldn't help but let out soft moans, his fingers gently tangling in her hair.

The sensation built up inside him, a tension coiling tighter with each of her movements. He could feel himself getting closer, his breaths coming in shorter, sharper bursts. 

“Elle, I—” he tried to warn her, but she only intensified her efforts, her eyes locking onto his.

Spencer's body tensed as the waves of pleasure crested and then crashed over him. He let out a strangled cry, his fingers clenching in her hair as he released. Elle stayed with him through it, her mouth working expertly, not missing a beat.

As the last shudders ran through him, Elle tenderly released him, her lips glistening. She swallowed, a satisfied look in her eyes, and wiped the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand.

Spencer lay back, chest heaving, staring up at her in a mix of disbelief and gratitude.

Elle stood up, her eyes never leaving Spencer's. She reached for the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head, revealing her smooth, toned torso. Spencer's breath caught in his throat as he watched her, mesmerized. Next, she unhooked her bra, letting it fall to the floor, exposing her breasts. His eyes widened, taking in every detail, every curve.

She unbuttoned her pants, sliding them down her legs, her movements slow and deliberate. Finally, she stepped out of her underwear, standing before him completely bare. Spencer couldn't tear his gaze away. She was stunning.

With a confident grace, Elle climbed on top of him. Her eyes met his, full of reassurance and desire. She took his hand and guided it between her legs, pressing his fingers against her warmth.

"Here," she whispered, showing him how to touch her. "Just follow my lead."

Spencer's fingers hesitantly explored her, sliding through her wetness, feeling the slick heat of her arousal. Elle's soft moan spurred him on, a sound that sent a shiver down his spine. He marveled at the contrast between her assertive demeanor and the vulnerability she displayed now, her body arching into his touch.

Elle's hips began to move against his hand, her rhythm slow and sensuous, guiding him. Spencer's initial hesitation melted away, replaced by growing confidence. He studied her reactions, the way her breath hitched when his fingers brushed against a particularly sensitive spot, the way her eyes fluttered closed as she lost herself in the sensation.

His fingers found a steady rhythm, moving with increasing certainty, sliding in and out of her with gentle yet deliberate strokes. He used his thumb to circle her clit, and Elle gasped, her grip on his shoulders tightening. 

"Like that," she murmured, her voice thick with pleasure. "Keep going."

Spencer watched her intently, his heart pounding in his chest. He was captivated by the sight of her, the way her body writhed in response to his touch. He could feel the tension building within her, her muscles tensing, her breaths coming in short, ragged bursts.

Elle's movements grew more urgent, her hips grinding against his hand, seeking release. Spencer adjusted his fingers, curling them slightly to press against her G-spot, his thumb maintaining its steady rhythm on her clit. 

The effect was immediate. Elle's eyes flew open, a gasp escaping her lips as pleasure surged through her. She leaned forward, her legs spread on either side of his stomach, moaning into his ear. One of her hands tangled in his hair while the other gripped the sheets. Spencer's other hand wrapped around her, holding her close to his chest, feeling the vibrations of her moans against his skin.

"Spencer," she breathed, her voice a mix of desperation and ecstasy. "I'm close."

He could feel it too, the way her walls tightened around his fingers, the way her whole body seemed to be coiling tighter and tighter. He continued his ministrations, his focus entirely on her, determined to bring her to the peak of pleasure.

With a final, shuddering gasp, Elle's body tensed, her back arching as her orgasm washed over her. She cried out, a raw, uninhibited sound, her inner muscles spasming around his fingers. Spencer watched in awe as she came, his hand never faltering, prolonging her pleasure until she collapsed against him, spent and trembling.

Elle's breathing gradually slowed, her body relaxing as the waves of her orgasm ebbed away. She lifted her head to look at him, her eyes filled with a mix of satisfaction and tenderness. 

"That was... incredible," she whispered, her voice still breathless.

Spencer smiled, a flush of pride warming his cheeks. "I'm glad," he replied softly, his fingers still resting gently against her.

[crookedmoonlight123]

The rain woman

Chapter 9 will be posted Monday :)

[gothoritax]

Love is in the Air

Gray Fullbuster wasn’t sure when he had started noticing the slender bluenette. He noticed her having her meals in the staff canteen, watching her attend to passengers when he was posted to the same flight as her, watching her laugh and giggle among her group of friends in the staff lounge. Gray doesn’t even try to notice Juvia Lockser, but there was always something about her that got her appearing in the corner of his eye, in the periphery of his vision; she was always there. And he always noticed. Sure, she did have the looks. Afterall, air stewardesses had to look decent and presentable. There was nothing averagely decent about Juvia Lockser though. She was absolutely stunning. From her ocean blue eyes filled with depth to her hourglass figure curving in all the right places to the graceful way she walked as if she was a dancer and the earth, her stage - there was definitely something about her. Something mystical, something magnetic, something, just something, seemed to defy the laws of physics as Gray (clearly) was gravitating towards her. Perhaps not physically, but my God his thoughts - not dirty however, were swarmed by her constant presence. Though usually concentrating hard on his job, his attention almost always found itself getting diverted to a certain person with a rosy tint on her cheeks, as she chatted lightly with a fellow staff. As if her wild curly blue hair wasn’t attracting enough attention already. Juvia Lockser was robbing Gray of everything. Little did he know that soon enough, his heart would be stolen too.

[rejectofsociety]

Thank you for tagging me, @over-the-sun! 💕 

1. Do you like answering tags? (Hopefully yes :D)

I do! But I tend to see I’ve been tagged, think “oh I’ll answer that in a sec” then totally forget

2. Do you prefer to write fanfiction, read fanfiction, create fanart, make video edits, or none of the above?

Hmmmm. Probably read fanficton because it requires absolutely no effort or talent. I just gotta enjoy y’all’s effort and talent 😂 

3. Nails painted (include what color) or not?

I haven’t painted my nails in a while, but when I do I always paint them black or gray

4. What would your ammortentia smell like? (For those who don’t know Harry Potter, ammortentia is a love potion that smells different to each person based on what attracts them. Basically what are your favorite smells?)

Idk how else to describe it other than a “mountain smell” like when the mountain’s healthy in the spring and it smells like dirt, rain, pine trees, flowers, and all that good stuff 

5. Would you prefer to live in an extremely hot or cold climate 

Cold, so I would have an excuse (besides gender dysphoria) to curl up under a thousand blankets and were a thousand layers of clothing

6. Favorite flavor of chapstick or do you not wear any?

I don’t wear any

7. Enemies to lovers or friends to lovers?

Oooo, that’s tough. Enemies to lovers, just cuz of the tension!

8. Favorite crack ship (any fandom)?

Hmmm... I don’t know, honest

9. Favorite type of weather

Rain! Any kind of rain! It could be a storm, or sunny and raining, or just a light sprinkling. I love the rain

10. Do you use :), :], or :D?

Normally just :) 

11. Tags! (no pressure)

If y’all haven’t done this already: @bunnyranger761 @stars-aligning @snuggswrites-world @wyldespiderraptor and @anyone who wants to 

[the-final-sif]

I've been meaning to make a post like this for awhile, but I kinda,,, kept forgetting. Since I just hit my 6 month anniversary and 300k words written milestone though, this seemed like a good a time as any to introduce myself properly, as well as talk a bit about my plans for the future.

So, without further ado... Hi.

I go by Sif (and sometimes Rosae), I'm a college student, and I'm a girl (she/her). I'm a fanfiction author in my spare time, and I also do fanart sometimes. I've been publishing fanfiction online for nearly 6 years, but I've been writing since I was 8 or 9 years old. My very first fanfiction was called 'Shoppingcats' and it was a handwritten warrior cats fanficton that from what I can recall was warrior cats but all my OCs and set in a mall.

As you may have guess from my blog, I adore birds. I volunteer with raptors, and I have a pet Timneh African Gray named Cecil who I love.

I'm definitely a nerd, and I have a special place in my heart for biology. I also love sci-fi, fantasy, and I currently love BNHA because it's got such a weird and expansive world to play with as a creator.

I tend to ramble on about stuff a lot, on the internet and in real life. Despite being pretty talkative once I get on a subject, I’m actually kinda shy. I get flustered by praise very easily, which is part of the reason I can take awhile to reply to stuff. I end up reading people’s nice comments and I just,,, melt. (stares guiltily at the 2000+ unanswered comments on my A03)

Other interesting things about me as a writer include:

I 100% blame my love of hurt/comfort on Bridge to Terabithia which wrecked me as a kid. That book taught me how powerful writing can be.

I tend to write to fill a void. If can’t find anything fitting my specific craving, then I often end up writing a story to fill it instead.

I have (accidentally) won an award for my writing before.

I don’t know where my ideas/headcanons/etc come from either. They sneak up on me, latch on and then I gotta do somethin’ with the little buggers.

I type quickly, and I get intense when I’m writing. This has lead to people asking me if I’m okay/if I’m angry about something while I’m typing out anything from fics to homework assignments.

I overthink everything I’ve written ever, and a lot of my fics contain small references to stuff that I spent way too much time figuring out.

And honestly, that’s pretty much all you’ll ever need to know about me. So, now that I’ve introduced myself, I wanted to just kinda give people an update on what I’m working on + what will be released next.

This is basically my to-do list, and knowing me it’ll probably change around and get interrupted by other cool ideas I get. But you know, this is roughly what’s going to happen. Maybe.

1. A (long) commission for @wyvernspirit​ - A Hawks & Jeanist fic that I’m having a ton of fun writing. Currently at ~1/4 chapters done, and hoping to get it done this week.

2. The Forced Family AU - This is going to be my next long fic, and it’s my own take on “The Villains Got Away With Katsuki”. I’m going to be writing the entire rough draft before I start publishing, so it will have an actual goddamn update schedule unlike some of my fics.

3. The Dandelion AU - This is... This is a big project. The Dandelion AU is something I’ll talk about more once my design lineup is done, but it’s going to be a mix of comics/artwork and attached fics. I’ve been planning it out for ages and chipping away at it, but my art takes me a long time (plus finding time to draw is harder for me), so this is probably going to be my most long term project on this list.

The Dandelion AU is going to be a Dabi centric major canon rewrite... that’s mostly canon compliant. A lot of it me trying to sit down with canon and find a way to fit puzzle pieces together while making it my own. I’m still not sure when I’ll start releasing it though, I’ve got a lot left to do, so I’ll just have to see.

4. Some various one-shots that I wanna write at some point are all getting lumped in here. Some silly, some sad. Some very sad.

5. FBNAS’s Epilogue. //looks the other way while whistling as I pretend I don’t see my WIP for this one.//

6. At least 3 more follow up stories for the Katsuki Hakamata AU. Honestly probably more eventually,  but there’s 3 I wanna write out for sure. Those 3 will go into Katsuki’s Internship, him meeting and bonding with Eri, and his second year sports festival. It’ll be awhile before these are out though.

So yeah, that’s roughly what I’m going to be working on for the next,,, while. I’m really excited about a lot of the projects I’m working on, and I can’t wait to share them with y’all!

[lunatic-desert-child]

Tagged by: @roman-puppy-reigns

Relationship status: Single

Favorite color: Black

Lipstick or Chapstick: Chapstick

Last Song I listened to: Down with the sickness by Disturbed

Last movie I watched: Battleship

Top 3 Tv Shows at the moment: Uhh the ones I’m watching currently are Grays anatomy, haven and Lost Girl.

Currently Reading: Fanficton and my own writing.

Time: 11.50 am.

Song stuck in my head: Don’t have any songs stuck in my head.

Tag: @everafter-in-neverland @ambrosekingdom @balordominion @vonschweetz  @thereluctantguardian @cherry619 @lunatic-sambrose @deanomegas @dudeambrose @bemoxxish

[rainonsand]

"I can hold the line at two dogs."

A 4 Minute Window Tribute

This is my favorite line from 4 Minute Window, a work of Steve/Bucky fanficton which itself is one of my all time favorite works of fiction. As we see in Captain America: The Winter Soldier, in the 21st century Steve has been living in shades of gray, in a life of going with the program and going through the motions, without knowing what he wants from life, or even what makes him happy anymore. He has lost so much by going into the ice, perhaps too much. When he was operating with SHIELD he at least had missions to throw himself at, some modern analogue to his time with the Howling Commandos. When SHIELD falls, or more accurately when he takes it down after discovering it was irrevocably corrupted, and had been all along, it leaves Steve without even the existential focus of an occupation.

Steve was displaced, discouraged, and living in apathy if not depression before SHIELD fell. After, as 4 Minute Window paints, Steve is also tired. Perhaps mortally tired. The kind of tiredness one acquires when fighting the internal battle between long-abused optimism and increasing bitterness. Still living day to day, still as earnest as he can be, which is a remarkable amount given all he’s seen and been through. But under the weight of his fatigue.

Like the color treatment of CA:TWS, the world of 4 Minute Window Steve’s been living in is one with muted color and harsh grays. A world in dusk, or overcast. Washed out. When Bucky comes back into his life, and offers a way out, it changes everything. The first thing Steve does is take in the sky, which feels wide open rather than closed and claustrophobic. Later, after more brief encounters with Bucky, Steve starts to see vivid color memories of the past rather than just the sepia tones of the present, and start to awaken sexually where before he was inert.

It is not, however, until Steve and Bucky are in a van heading for their new life together that Steve starts to actually contemplate what lies ahead. There, on the second leg of that drive, after a successful escape from the heavy security around Steve, reunited with the long lost love of his life, with whom he hadn’t ever been able to actually picture or plan a domestic life: it is then that Steve finally starts to think about the rest of his life, a life lived in color. The enormity of it, but also the details. Only then does it occur to Steve that he wants a dog or maybe two.

As someone who adores Steve- the little punk that wanted to help, to serve, and the hero who lost everything and everyone, and was cursed to live a muted life and still tried to live it nobly- it was a relief and a joy to see Steve get to have that moment, get to be able to see a future that involves what he wants and what makes him happy (i.e. Bucky) and indulge in contemplating the details of a quiet domestic life.

If Sam had asked him what he wanted then, or what made him happy, Steve could tell him. He could have told him a dozen things and more. Steve wanting a dog is indicative of Steve wanting to make a life, and of finally being able to picture it in all the details that didn’t really matter before. Steve wanting maybe two dogs, maybe more, but being willing to “hold the line” at two, is a glimpse of Steve not just wanting, but wanting voraciously, and wanting for himself. Steve haggling over how many dogs they have when they haven’t even completed their escape shows an eagerness and a vitality that was in Steve all along, and is finally truly coming awake.

I love 4 Minute Window foremost for what, to me, is incredibly powerful writing. Using only a few words or a tiny moment to express multitudes is my personal literary catnip, and this fic has that in abundance. But this fic also gives one of my favorite fictional characters a true happy ending. Even though the life it leaves Steve in is simple, even with all sorts of loose ends the subsequent works in the series address, “this was all he had ever wanted ever.” The author took someone who always has an optimistic smile despite not having or even knowing what he wants, who completes his mission no matter what that costs him, and who endures everything without ever being rewarded with personal gain, and she gives him a life in which he can want again. Not a perfectly happy ending, but what he wanted. And in the context of a movie series where Steve always saves the day but never gets a happy ending, that just floors me.

"I want a dog,“ Steve told him. "A big dog. Maybe two dogs.”

“We’re not even there yet,” Bucky objected.

“I can hold the line at two dogs,” Steve said.