#on the same day. and now it’s just….mostly joke replies with very few reblogs to the original post.

[badolmen]

I have zero authority on this I’m just making a personal observation but like. It’s really sad going through the notes of a writing/art prompt post and seeing nothing but jokes/‘witty’ one liners/sarcastic responses. A prompt is someone putting an idea out into the world and expecting it to inspire others, not to be a setup for someone else’s punchline. Stop trying to perform for an audience and start trying to connect with art.

[cocrante]

I Start Over With You

[SOLANGELO FANFIC]

summary: After the great battle against the forces of Gaea, Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter had formed a long-lasting alliance. Everything had gone well, and everyone was ready to start anew. This included Nico, who, after confessing his feelings to Percy, was prepared to open a new chapter in his life—perhaps the happiest one the Fates had ever written.

note: the chapters will be updated every Wednesday. If you want to read upcoming chapters of the fanfiction in advance, I invite you to follow me on Patreon. Subscribing is not necessary, these chapters will be added for free on the platform on Mondays and Fridays. Following me there is just a kind and free gesture to support my work c:

Reblogs are highly appreciated c:

[CHAPTER 2]

THAT HERBAL INFUSION Will had prepared for him was slowly beginning to take effect.

In a few days, Nico felt his strength returning, although not enough to summon an army of zombies or any specters. During that week, the son of Apollo followed his progress step by step, enthusiastic to see Nico back in good health and with rosier cheeks. The two found themselves spending that week together, talking mostly about the side effects that an abrupt effort might have during the intake of that kind of energy drink made from herbs. Nico began to enjoy spending time with Will, even though he often repeated the same things to him, and he responded in the same way. It had to be said, however, that the son of Apollo really did his best to make him feel at ease, knowing that it was not easy for him to trust someone other than himself. In a corner of his mind, Will began to wonder what had happened to Nico di Angelo in those years, remembering perfectly the first time he met him at Camp Half-Blood: sunny, energetic, none of the newcomers to the camp could imagine that the son of Hades was once the opposite of what he was now. Not that there was anything wrong with Nico now, it was just that Will no longer wanted to see him feel like he was without someone who cared for him. He would do anything to see that beautiful smile that spread across the boy's face again, bending over in two graceful dimples. He knew that deep down, somewhere under that grim expression, there was still that eleven-year-old boy who played hide-and-seek with the nymphs of the woods; he just had to be patient and wait for Nico to open up to him. However, this meant building a solid relationship of trust first. Will couldn't have asked for anything better. Then the end of that week came, and the two found themselves having one last chat in the infirmary. "See? You also have a much better complexion" exclaimed Will, proudly looking at Nico's no longer cadaverous skin. "From tomorrow, you could already take a walk in the dark" he suggested. The two were face to face, and Nico couldn't believe what he had just heard. "Are you serious?" he asked, to make sure he wasn't imagining it. "Yes" Will affirmed, smiling. "But I'm not saying to go, I don't know, to Bali and back. Try to do it in the camp, so if you faint, I can be around" he laughed as if it were a very funny joke, but they both knew that the son of Hades would be capable of disappearing for weeks. Nico nodded, he wasn't planning on traveling the world, at least not immediately. "I'll stay around" he promised, hinting at an imperceptible smile. "But wait!" he exclaimed a moment later, attracting Will's attention. "Does that mean we won't see each other for—" he made a vague gesture with his hand, he wasn't good with words, but he was sure the boy had understood. Will gave a laugh, looking at his joined hands. "The week is over" he curled his lips, as if he had just realized that the last day had arrived. "But that doesn't mean we can't hang out" he raised his blue eyes. "I'd like that" he added, showing a shy smile. Nico didn't think that Apollo's children could be shy. "I'd like that too" Nico replied after a few seconds, managing to show a faint smile.

It had been five days since that last chat, and Nico was now able to transport himself in the shadow for a few kilometers, occasionally scaring some child of Ares by accidentally appearing behind them. Will had not contacted him or asked about his favorite patient, nor had Nico done the same. The boy felt quite awkward about it all, not understanding how he should take Will's words. He didn't deny being scared, a situation like this had never happened to him before, he wanted to know how to read those words, what did that "hanging out" mean. He was obsessed with the idea that Will ultimately saw him simply as another boy from Camp Half-Blood, but with a slightly more terrifying parent to stay away from. Perhaps he had only said so to be polite. He spent those days wandering around the camp without a specific destination, and although by now the other campers had grown used to his presence and would greet him without suppressing a sense of disgust or fear, Nico didn't feel completely accepted. He only felt that way when he spent time with Will, where everything seemed to come alive, and he felt like a simple, happy boy again. At that thought, he decided to let go of his crazy thoughts; he preferred to get to know Will as a friend rather than lose him due to his unfounded doubts.

He walked briskly towards the archery range. It was the first time he had set foot there. Every time someone had suggested that he go there to train, he would disappear like a shadow until one day everyone decided to give up and let him do whatever he wanted. That was officially his first time at the range. He didn't know exactly what to do or who to talk to in order to get a bow and quiver, so he decided to ask one of the Apollo campers who was helping a young demigod hold a bow. "Down there" the camper pointed out, after spending five minutes trying to figure out if Nico was really there or some sort of hallucination. Nico thanked him and chose the least worn bow from the basket, along with a quiver. He returned to his target, feeling quite stupid at that moment, but he knew it was the right thing to do to get Will's attention. He took an arrow from the quiver behind his back, nocked it between the taut string and the bow — it wasn't as simple as he thought — took aim and released the arrow, which embedded itself in the ground a meter away from the target. He sighed as he went to retrieve the arrow. Having the eyes of the other campers on him did nothing to help his concentration. He tried again, putting more force into it, managing to hit the target only in the white part, leaving the arrow hanging until it fell to the ground again. He was about to go retrieve it when a voice he knew well stopped him. "And we thought Percy was a disaster" commented the boy who had seen Nico shoot his second arrow from behind. Nico turned towards the boy, who was staring at him with crossed arms and a sarcastic smile. Will chuckled and approached him, stealing another arrow from his quiver. "Let me show you how to do it" he said, turning him towards the target and helping him position the arrow better. "You need to raise your elbow higher and bend your knees" he corrected his posture, standing behind him. "Draw the bow taut" he whispered near his ear, releasing his grip on his arms and as soon as he felt them slip away he shot the arrow, which went to plant itself in the third ring. "Congratulations!" exclaimed Will, patting him on the shoulder. "Maybe you're not a hopeless case like our friend".

They kept trying until all the arrows were gone, with Will by his side he managed to hit the target a couple of times, although he mostly hit the outer circles. "With a little training, you could become a great archer" he encouraged him, he was rather satisfied with his small improvements. Nico just smiled gratefully, not knowing exactly what to say to him, he didn't want to disappear that way, but how could he explain how he felt about people if he couldn't even explain it to himself? He didn't want to make Will feel guilty, he had done his best to open up and be a good friend. "Well then, see you later" he smiled uncertainly, seeing that the boy wasn't intending to start a conversation and then he had his shift at the infirmary. "Wait, Solace" Nico stopped him. "Listen, I don't care about all this stuff" and with a sweeping gesture of his hand he practically indicated the whole camp. "I came to see you" he confessed. "I was sincere in the infirmary, I want, well, I'd like it if we hung out" his cheeks started to warm up with what he had just said. Will remained silent, looking at that strange boy who, he didn't exactly know how, he liked. "I finish my shift at five, wait for me at the bay" he said decisively, throwing him a quick wink. "See you at five!" Nico repeated, watching him walk away.

[CONTENTS]

1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 • 10 • 11 • 12 • 13 • 14 • 15 • 16 • 17 • 18 • 19 • 20

[watchmegetobsessed]

ALL IS FAIR

a/n: woohoo!! finally a harry fic! lol sorry i got very into marvel these past weeks but im finally bringing you some harry content! this one was originally requested by an anon sometime and then we kept talking about it until i actually got around to write it! hopefully you’ll like it and if you do, please like and reblog!

pairing: ceo!Harry x ceo!plussize!reader

warning: sexual content

word count: 16.7k

masterlist

“Stop being such a stuck up dick, it’s your birthday, bro!”

Harry rolls his eyes at his friend who walks into his penthouse as if he owned. Niall Horan was so well-known in Harry’s building that he could have easily walked into any homes in the tower and people would still welcome him warmly. It might have a few things to do with the fact that half of the residents in the Compass Tower are women who are hopelessly in love with either Niall or Harry, hoping for a chance to drag either of them into their bed one day. They have a lot more chance to do that with the Irish bloke than with Mr. Styles. Not that Harry doesn’t find them attractive, but he is not the type to have one night stands, something his friend gives him quite a lot of shit for.

“Would you fuck off for twenty more minutes?” Harry sighs, shooting him a look as he covers the speaker of his phone, in the middle of a call.

“You have ten minutes and we are leaving. I’m not letting you work on the night of your thirtieth birthday!” Niall warns him before walking into the kitchen to roam the always full, neatly stocked fridge.

As much as Niall Horan comes off as an irresponsible cocky child, he is quite the businessman himself as well. As the Lawyer of one third of New York’s most influential people, he surely doesn’t have to worry about making a living, enjoying his luxurious apartment a few streets away from Harry’s place on the Upper East Side. It’s not as expensive and impressive as Harry’s penthouse on the top of the tower his father built in the heart of the posh neighborhood most people only know from TV shows, but he couldn’t complain.

“Another designer refused to sign with us, H. We are running out of options,” Lambert’s voice rings through the phone as Harry turns to the floor to ceiling window, staring out to the city skyline in front of him.

“We have quite a few left, right?” Harry asks clenching his jaw.

“Yeah, but I heard that Cometa is planning on announcing something big next week so I think a lot of them are waiting for that to happen.”

“Do you think it’s another collab? But they just had fucking Chanel have a line sold through them!” Harry growls, his blood boiling at even just the thought.

When it comes to fashion in the virtual world, there are two businesses that totally dominate the industry. In the men’s wear, Twisted is definitely the number one selling place. The idea started off as just a freshman school project that originally wanted to sell tech stuff, but a few years into the project Harry met Lambert who was already a rising star in the fashion industry and they joined forces, creating the most classic yet affordable and user friendly online empire: Twisted. Though Twisted mostly features men’s clothing, they’ve been trying to venture to the field of women’s fashion, but it hasn’t been as easy as they thought it to be. And the reason for that is Cometa.

Cometa was originally a website where anyone could sell their own clothes, make their online wardrobe sale. But eventually the business grew itself out and stepped up a few levels, collaborating with various designers and brands, selling exclusive lines and a highly praised seasonal variety four times a year, earning a well-deserved top spot in the online fashion industry. It’s hard to compete with what Julia Bianchi built up through sweat and blood and Harry Styles has been working on stepping up to be a major competition for Cometa in women’s fashion, with not much luck so far.

To top the cake with a delicious looking cherry, Cometa has been trying to set feet into men’s fashion as well in the recent years, bringing out several lines with some mentionable designers, but they never made it be as big as Twisted. The two businesses have been trying to outdo each other for about a decade now, with not much luck so far and Harry’s patience is running low by now.

“I don’t know what it is, but keep an eye out. I’ll call you on Monday, alright?” Lambert sighs through the line.

“Okay, thank you,” Harry nods, feeling a little defeated.

“And happy birthday, man. Go and celebrate!” he chuckles, making Harry’s lips curl up as well.

“Thanks, have a good weekend,” Harry bids his goodbye before the call ends.

Wandering into the kitchen Harry finds Niall with the thickest ham and cheese sandwich between his hands, sitting at the kitchen island.

“So where exactly are we going tonight?” he asks, grabbing himself a granola bar as he joins the Irish lad on the stool next to him.

“Oh, that’s a surprise,” he grins, mouth full as he chews mercilessly. Harry grimaces, not sure how this is the same man who can convince a judge about basically anything, wearing his designer suits, putting on an intimidating and serious act for his cases.

“I have a switch,” Niall once told him when he asked how he does it. “I just turn it off when I’m off the clock.”

“You know I hate surprises,” Harry informs him matter-of-factly, but Niall doesn’t seem to be bothered by his comment.

“You’re thirty now, no one cares what you hate.”

“Says who?” Harry huffs.

“Me,” he grins, making Harry roll his eyes.

The bass is throbbing, red tinted lights illuminating the exclusive bar in the heart of Manhattan where Niall chose to gather some of Harry’s close friends to celebrate his thirtieth birthday. Sitting in the leather couches at a restricted area at the back of the place, they are hidden enough not to draw too much attention to themselves but still feel like they are part of the party.

“Cheers to three decades of this cocky motherfucker!” Niall beams as their glasses meet in the middle, everyone laughing and wishing Harry a happy birthday before they all chug their drinks.

Harry is not necessarily the type of person to enjoy going out too often, but he admits it’s been a while since the last time he let loose. It feels nice to have the evening to himself, leaving the business behind for just a couple of hours before he returns to his busy everydays.

Though the occasion is Harry’s birthday, Niall is surely enjoying the evening a tad bit more than his friend. After Harry sees him send down three tequilas in a row he realizes it’s not gonna end well if he doesn’t get some water into his system as well. Excusing himself from the group he heads to the bar, pushing his way through the dancing bodies until he finally reaches his destination.

Given how it’s a Friday evening, the place is packed and he waits in the line patiently while the bartender is fixing up the order of a group of girls a few stools down from Harry. Leaning onto the counter Harry runs his gaze over the dancing crowd, tapping his fingers against the surface to the beat, even bopping his head a little when he feels a push from behind him.

“Oh, sorry!” A female voice calls out and as he turns around he spots the owner of it, a young woman, her curvy body wrapped in a tight mini dress that leaves very little to Harry’s imagination as his eyes run up and down her figure. He has never seen a curvy girl as confident as her, she is radiating, drawing every male’s attention to herself like she is feeding off the hungry stares and dirty thoughts birthed by her.

Her eyes meet Harry’s gaze and the sly smirk that tugs on her perfectly shaped lips gives it away that she is not that sorry to be bumping into him.

“No worries,” is all he manages to say, the urge to drop to his knees right then and there stronger than anything he has ever had to fight.

“He won’t notice you,” she tells him and his eyebrows knit together in confusion. “The bartender. If you just stand there like that… he will never come here,” she explains.

“I’m not sure I have what catches his eyes,” he jokes, making her laugh and he swears his stomach drops at the heavenly sound.

“May I?” she arches an eyebrow and Harry nods, letting her step in front of him. He stands tall above her, eyes fixed on her figure as she leans onto the counter, the marble pushing her breasts up just enough to spark the bartender’s fantasies when he glances in her way. She waves at him with a charming smile and a moment later the guy is standing in front of her, ready to please her in any way she desires.

“Three vodka sodas and…” she turns in Harry’s way, her lips slightly parted and his breath hitches in his throat. “What did you want, handsome?”

“Just, uhh—Just two water, please.”

Her eyebrows rise, but she doesn’t comment on it, just adds the two water to her order. The bartender nods and disappears to fix up her drinks. Harry takes a deep breath and sticking his hand out to her he introduces himself.

“I’m Harry, by the way.” She takes his hand, shaking it firmly.

“Y/N. Nice to meet you, Harry. Are you here alone?”

“Um, no. I’m here with a few friends,” he replies nodding towards the back of the place. “Are you here with someone?”

Please don’t say your boyfriend, please!

“A few of my girlfriends,” she smiles, brushing her hair over her shoulder, flaunting a better look at her naked neck and just one glimpse is sending a whirl of dirty thoughts into Harry’s mind. He wonders how soft her skin would feel under his lips, what her moans would sound as he sucks on it, leaving a mark on her, letting every man in the house know that he made her feel good.

“Are you guys celebrating something?” Y/N asks, a knowing smile on her lips as she most definitely saw Harry staring at her.

“Actually, yeah,” he chuckles a little nervously. “It’s my birthday.” Y/N’s eyes brighten up as she beams at him.

“Really? Happy birthday then!”

“Thank you,” he smiles shyly. “Are you guys celebrating something too?”

“Well, I…” she starts, her thoughts wandering off for a second before she continues. “I kind of got promoted,” she explains and Harry smiles down at her warmly.

“Congrats then!”

The bartender returns with the drinks and she is already about to get her card from her little clutch when Harry pulls his card out, handing it over to the guy behind the bar.

“Birthday boys shouldn’t pay for others,” she smirks, but doesn’t try to fight him that hard.

“You can pay me back later,” Harry shrugs with a suggestive smirk on his lips. He doesn’t want to part ways with her, but she is obviously expected to be back with her friends and he needs to get back to Niall as well before he absolutely loses control. Stepping closer to him, Y/N slides a hand up his chest, her palm resting at the base of his neck as she leans to his ear.

“Save me a dance, birthday boy?” she murmurs into his ear, her lips brushing against him for a split second before she steps back, grabs her drinks and winking at him one last time she disappears from the bar. Harry stands there for a few more seconds before the bartender hands him back his card and snatching the waters from the bar he heads back to his friends.

 Luckily, Niall is slowing down a little, The water does him well and Harry finally doesn’t feel like he’ll have to take care of him, dragging him home once the night is over. Sitting by the table Harry is trying to focus on the conversation, but his gaze keeps wandering over to the dance floor, looking for one particular curvy figure in the sea of dancing bodies.

It takes him some time to spot her, but when he does, he is not able to tear his eyes away from her.

She is almost perfectly in the middle with her friends surrounding her, lips and shoulders swaying to the rhythm perfectly. He catches her chug down the last sips of her drink before she disregards the glass and gets back to dancing. Watching her every move intently, Harry feels his lips slightly part at the sight of this angel who is for sure a devil in the sheets. He can’t stop himself fantasizing about what it would feel like to dig his fingers into her thighs, kiss her neck, her cleavage that’s on show now, how her curves would fit into his hands perfectly. He wants to praise this woman, make her feel good and not just because he wants to be selfless and please her, but also because seeing this woman reach her high because of him would be the biggest ego boost for him and he just needs that.

“Go dance with her!” Niall wiggles his eyebrows at him when he catches Harry staring at her.

“What? No, I’m not a dancer,” he shakes his head, shifting his eyes away from the dancing goddess on the dance floor.

“Oh come on, don’t be a pussy!”

“I’m not a pussy, I just—“

“You’re a pussy. I saw her looking in your way as well, she wants your dick!”

“Jesus, Niall!” Harry whines rolling his eyes. He doesn’t like it when he gets so vulgar, but luckily no one heard their conversation. Glancing back in Y/N’s way Harry sees how men are eyeing him, probably building up the courage to go up to her and that has his blood boiling. He needs to be the one to touch her.

Chugging down the rest of his drink he snaps the glass on the table before standing from his seat, ignoring Niall’s cheering as he makes his way into the crowd.

Harry didn’t lie when he said he is not a dancer, he feels uncomfortable, awkward and uncoordinated most of the times he tries to dance, but he is pushing all of those to the back of his mind for now as his eyes are set on one person in the crowd.

When Y/N spots the man approaching her, she can’t push a pleased smile off her lips, slowing her movements down as Harry finally reaches her, leaning closer to her ear so she can hear his voice over the music.

“Here to collect that dance,” he smugly tells her, making her laugh, though the music is too loud to let him hear her. She just nods and turning around she presses herself up against him, her backside fitting his front perfectly. Harry’s hand snake around her waist, his large palm smoothly moving through the silky fabric of her dress as they start moving together.

She is intoxicating, makes Harry feel like he is some kind of horny teenager, like he hasn’t dealt with women before, but in a way, she makes all of his past flings appear to be only girls. Her confidence in her own body is easily one of her best traits, the way she handles herself, moves her body, the look in her eyes, Harry is getting drunk on just watching her and now he is able to touch her as well.

When he feels himself getting hard in his pants, he knows he should be at least a slightly bit embarrassed by himself, but as Y/N turns around in his arms and he sees the pleased smirk on her lips, the feeling vanishes in a heartbeat. She wraps her arms around his neck as she pulls him close, her lips brushing against his lips.

“Enjoying yourself, birthday boy?” she prompts before pressing a kiss to the soft skin under his ear and he can’t hold a growl back. The friction is almost unbearable, as his hands slide lower on her back, stopping on her ass, he knows he won’t be able to control himself any longer. Luckily, he is not the only one having this inner fight.

Snapping around Y/N grabs his hand and starts pulling him through the crowd towards the hallway of the bathrooms. He follows her eagerly, lucky for them, the club doesn’t have restrooms with several stalls, but single bathrooms with a lot more comfort and privacy. Just what they need right now.

They find the third bathroom empty, pushing their way inside and locking the door before Harry pushes her up against it the moment it’s just the two of them, their mouths hungrily meeting in the middle. He almost grunts against her lips, she tastes even better than he imagined and the way her tongue is the first one to come into action has got his mind blown. His hands roam up her body, running up all her curves until they reach her face and he cups it in his palms, pressing his hips against her. She moans against his mouth when his hard cock pokes against her, both of them desperate to take it further.

Tumbling further into the small bathroom, he helps her up to the counter next to the sing, her legs instantly opening for him, her tiny dress rolling up her thighs, revealing her clothed sex. Harry eagerly kisses his way down her neck and chest, her skin feeling so smooth under his lips. His fingers hook under the thin straps of her dress, tugging them down so he can push the dress past her full breasts and thank God she is not wearing a bra underneath!

“Fuck me, you are so hot!” he breathes out, making her chuckle at his reaction.

“That’s what I’m trying to do,” she cockily answers before Harry’s mouth attaches to her nipple, his hand working on her other breasts before he switches.

He quickly gets down on his knees, pushing her underwear to the side before his lips and tongue meet her sensitive clit.

“Oh shit!” she moans, a hand coming to tangle in his hair while she tries to hold herself steady with leaning on the other one behind her. There’s no time for teasing now and they both know that.

She is so lost in the experience, Harry is licking and sucking just the right spots and she tries to close her legs, locking his head between her thighs. His arms come to curl around them, ring clad fingers digging into her flesh and the situation might be a little suffocating for him, but he doesn’t mind it a bit. In fact, if he died this way, he would die a happy man.

She doesn’t let him finish what he started, pulling him up, his lips still glistening from her own juices as she kisses him messily, wiggling herself out of her underwear while he undoes his pants as well.

“Shit, do you have a condom?” he breathes out when his palm wraps around his throbbing cock. She nods, reaching for her clutch she dropped to the counter and digging into it she grabs the package, smacking it against his chest playfully. “Were you planning to do this tonight?” he grins cockily as he rips the package open and starts rolling it down his hard length.

“No, I’m just smart, unlike you,” she retorts, her sass dripping from her tone and it just riles him up even more.

Grabbing her thighs he yanks her to the edge of the counter, a gasp leaving her plump lips as she tries to find her balance quickly.

“Don’t be a brat,” he growl against her lips before kissing her, while he lines himself up with her, the head already pushing in.

“Then fuck me, birthday boy,” she challenges him again and it’s the last straw.

Harry slams into her, both of them moaning at the sensation before he starts thrusting in a fast pace, needing all the friction he can make to get them to finish as soon as possible. Y/N’s head falls back as she holds onto the back of his neck, her other hand on the counter behind her again and Harry glances down, watching her breasts bounce every time he rails into her, slamming his whole length into her every time their hips meet.

She reaches for one of his hands that’s holding her thigh and she boldly brings it to her core, tapping his fingers to her clit, letting him know that she wants some extra effort. Harry doesn’t say it, but he is blown how she didn’t just do it herself, she made him do it. It’s got to be one of the hottest things he has ever seen.

“Fuck, go harder!” she gasps, wrapping her legs around his waist as he picks the pace up, feeling his orgasm building rapidly with each thrust.

They both are a whimpering, moaning mess, the bass of the music is thumping outside and for a moment, Harry feels like he is finally living his life to the fullest.

“I’m gonna cum!” she breathes out, his name falling from her lips moaning after that and when she pulls him down to kiss him, biting into his bottom lip and tugging it, he loses himself.

He feels himself jerking inside her, still sliding in and out of her as he grunts, releasing himself into the condom. He flicks his fingers on her clit at the same time, creating just enough friction to push her over the edge as well. He is coming off his own high when her walls tighten around his cock, dragging his orgasm out even longer as she basically screams, gasping for air, riding her orgasm out to the last bit.

Leaning down he kisses her again though they are still panting, this time making it a lot less rushed than the time their lips met for the first time. Her legs fall from around his waist and he pulls out, both of them cleaning themselves up in the aftermath of their little session.

“I know this was quite rushed and all that, but can I have your number?” he asks, even feeling a little nervous. She puts her underwear back on, smoothing her dress down as she smiles up at him, cupping his face in her palm.

“I’m afraid we’ll have to skip on that,” she tells him simply, shocking him for sure.

“D-Do you have a boyfriend or something?”

“No,” she shakes her head and now Harry is confused.

“You didn’t enjoy it?” he then asks, trying his best to figure out the reason behind the rejection.

“I did. But it was a one time thing. If it’s supposed to turn into more…” she sighs, grabbing her clutch from the counter. “Then I’ll leave it to fate if we ever meet again,” she shrugs before turning around she just unlocks the door and walks out, leaving Harry stand there in complete and utter shock.

This is definitely a first for him, a woman who doesn’t want to see him again. He is not that egoistic to think that everyone is in love with him, but he never had an encounter similar to this. Not after the most amazing sex ever.

Harry fixes himself up, still not believing she walked out that easily, but there’s not much he can do now. Walking back to his table, he acts like nothing happened and when his eyes scan over the crowd again, he can’t see her anymore.

Harry lets out a tired sigh when Zayn, head of the graphic design department walks into his office with a familiar brown paper bag with the logo of Harry’s favorite Chinese restaurant.

“Has it started already?” Zayn asks, though glancing at the big screen on the wall he can see the stream is still waiting to be started.

“No, I’ve been staring at it for like twenty minutes,” Harry grumbles, pushing himself away from his desk to join Zayn on the couch in front of the screen as he unpacks the food. “What do you think it’s going to be?”

Today is the day of Cometa’s big press conference and no one knows what they are about to announce. It’s been keeping Harry on the edge for the past few days, because whatever it is, it has got to be major. Julia Bianchi is not the type of person to hold press conferences, she is a private person who has managed to keep most of her life behind closed doors. That’s something Harry admires in the woman even though they are competitors in the business. He can relate to wanting to keep her life just for herself, he has been doing the same thing. No public appearances, no lengthy interviews, no photoshoots. He likes to let his work talk for himself and it’s proved to be a successful move so far.

“I don’t know, but I hope they don’t suddenly announce a full graphic makeover right before our update,” Zayn chuckles. He has been working on an entirely new appearance for the website these past weeks and it’s supposed to go live sometime later in the month. A change for Cometa would totally throw their attempt off, making them look like they are just copying Julia’s move.

They eat and wait for the stream to start when the screen finally comes alive. There’s an empty stage shown with just two mic stands in the middle and nothing really happens for a few minutes before clapping is heard from behind the camera and Julia finally walks on the stage.

The woman is a real diva. Wearing a matching pant suit with bold floral print all over it, her short hair is neatly straightened into a bob cut, her red lips smiling lightly as she waves around in the room. Julia has been in the fashion industry for almost three decades now and she surely made a name for herself, sitting front row in every fashion show she attends, her words on any new trend being basically the standard.

Stepping to one of the mics, she clears her throat as the clapping dies down and her calm, gentle voice rings through the speakers.

“Welcome, everyone, thank you for coming, as you might already know I’m Julia Bianchi, head of Cometa, the world’s best online women’s fashion house.”

Harry leans back in his seat, eyes fixed on the woman on the screen as he is patiently waiting to hear what she’s got for the people this time.

“I’ve spent twenty-seven wonderful years in the business, building my own one for the past two decades. I fell in love with fashion as a child and moved to Milan to study designing from the bests. Though designing has always and will always hold a special place in my heart, I saw an opportunity in the early years for a brand that would hold together every other brand in the industry, bringing it to everyone’s home thanks to the rapidly developing technology. Cometa has always been my little baby and I’m proud of everything I achieved as head of such a great company.”

Harry realizes what it’s about before Julia could even say the words herself. The phrasing, the nostalgic tone, it’s all adding up to the obvious: Julia is about to announce her retirement.

“I gave the best years of my life for this company and I regret nothing, but recently I’ve realized that it is time for me to slow down for a little bit and enjoy a life that’s not filled with work anymore, and spend more time with my beloved husband, Fabio and my family who supported me on my long way here. Therefore, I am now announcing it with an aching heart and a lot of excitement as well that I am stepping down from my role as CEO of Cometa. I might be leaving now, but my business will not. So it is a pleasure to introduce you the person who will carry my legacy on, my amazing niece, the absolutely most perfect woman to carry on the work I started, Y/N Y/L/N.”

The moment another woman comes into the picture Harry almost chokes on his own saliva, seeing the same curves he had his fingers dug into last Friday. Y/N smiles and waves around as she steps to the other mic next to her aunt, exchanging a short look with her before turning towards the people in the room and the camera that’s streaming the event.

“Dude, you alright?” Zayn asks, patting Harry’s back a few times as he is still struggling to breathe normally.

He refuses to accept that the woman he fucked in a bathroom on his birthday, the one that made him moan like never before, is the same woman who is going to take over his biggest competitor.

“This has got to be a joke,” he breathes out with teary eyes from all the coughing.

“It is an honor to be here,” Y/N starts speaking as the clapping dies down once again and the two men are staring at the screen. “Just like to be the one to step into the perfectly stylish shoes of my aunt. I hope to live up to not just her and everyone else’s expectations, but also to mine as well. I grew up watching my aunt build up this empire with basically dust so to be the person to take her place is a dream come true. I promise to keep the quality the same and work on improving Cometa to its possible best while being in charge.”

As she finishes talking, questions are thrown in her way, but Harry doesn’t pay attention any longer. Standing up he walks to the window, staring out to the city as he chews on his bottom lip anxiously.

“What the fuck is your problem, H? It wasn’t as bad as we expected, right?” Zayn questions.

“It’s fucking worse!” he snaps turning around. “I can’t believe this is happening to me.”

“Would you just tell me what’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong is that… I told you about what… happened on my birthday.”

“The bathroom fuck, oh yeah,” Zayn chuckles with a playful shine in his eyes.

“Well, that woman… the woman I fucked was her.” Zayn stays silent for a moment before he turns towards the screen, eyeing the woman on the stage as she is still answering questions, standing confidently in her tight, black dress and red heels.

“You fucked Julia Bianchi’s niece? And she is now taking over Cometa?” he raises his eyebrows at Harry who just nods, pressing his lips together into a thin line. “And she is also the one who didn’t give you her number?”

“Don’t… bring that up. But yes, it’s her.”

Zayn starts laughing, clearly finding Harry’s misery entertaining, but Harry doesn’t feel like taking it that easy. He wonders if she knew who he was, if she did it on purpose or it was fate’s horrible joke on both of them.

“Ah man, that charity event on Saturday will be one hell of a show then!” Zayn points it out and Harry’s face falls. He totally forgot about the charity event he was invited to, one that would have the biggest names in the fashion industry together in a ball room to raise money for a chosen good cause. It happens every year and it’s a major event, the perfect place to network and also to see your biggest enemies. That means that Harry will see Y/N again in a few short days and if he is being honest… he is not ready to face her, not after the information he learned today. Sighing he steps to the minibar he insisted on having in his office and though he never drinks during the day, he now thinks that now might be an exception. He pours himself some whiskey and before he chugs it down at one go, he lets out a long, tired sigh.

“That’s just my luck…”

Leslie helps you with the zipper of your dress, the silky, red fabric hugging your body like a second skin. She smoothes the wrinkles out while you fix the straps, staring back at yourself in the mirror with judgment. You need to look perfect, this is going to be your first time appearing at an event as CEO of Cometa, your big entrance into the industry, you can’t let anything go wrong.

“You look gorgeous, babe,” Leslie smiles at you, bringing your hair behind your shoulders as her eyes meet yours in the mirror. Leslie might be your assistant, but she is a lot more than that. You’ve been friends for almost a decade and when she lost her job a few years ago you didn’t hesitate to offer her a spot next to you. You wouldn’t be here without her, she doesn’t try to use her privilege of being your friend to not do the work, she is always on top of her game and you’ll always be grateful for her to not make it awkward at all.

“I think you need some diamonds though,” she winks at you, stepping to the table where all kinds of jewelry is sprawled out. She reaches for a simple one, not too much, quite elegant and you nod as she holds it up for you. Walking behind you she brings it around your neck, the diamond brilliantly sitting on your chest now, giving that little extra shine to your outfit.

“You’ll make every man fall in love with you,” she smiles at you and breathing out you nod, hoping to believe that everything will go perfectly.

While you make a few last minute calls she gets dressed as well before the car arrives for the two of you. She is wearing a less daring but still beautiful black dress, her curly hair pinned up into a loose bun at the nape of her neck, her heavily freckled face bright from her happy smile as the two of you make your way to the event.

“I know it’s ridiculous, but I tried to memorize the faces and names from the guest list,” she grins at you, earning an eyeroll.

“Les, I told you, this is not The Devil Wears Prada,” you chuckle softly. She is obsessed with that movie and hasn’t shut up about feeling like she is literally living in it since your aunt has shared her plans with you about your future position last year.

“I know, but it might be impressive if you already knew everyone!”

You have to give that to her, it would earn you a few good points if you knew the names already, you’re just still nervous about the whole thing. So many things could go wrong and you want it to be perfect.

 At first you feel intimidated by all the influential people around you. Everyone here is one of the bests in their own field and you feel like an impostor, but then you remind yourself that you earned your spot. Your aunt wouldn’t have given you the company if she didn’t trust you entirely with it. You worth no less than anyone else in this ball room and that reminds you that… you’re that bitch.

Leslie’s knowledge of names actually comes handy. You love seeing people get shocked when they try to introduce themselves to you, but you already greet them saying their names. It earns you some appreciative looks as you make your way around the room. Everything is going smooth, right until you spot one particular man in the crowd.

You’re in a little circle with a few designers when your gaze falls on Harry who is standing across the room, talking to two men. The champagne almost slips from your hand when you realize it’s him.

“Leslie,” you grab her wrist catching her attention. “Les, who’s the man in the blue Gucci suit?” you ask in a whisper and she follows your gaze, finding the man in talk.

“Oh, that’s Harry Styles, head of Twisted.”

“Fuck,” you mumble under your breath as you quickly excuse yourself from the conversation and head out to the balcony to get some fresh air before you faint right on the spot.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Leslie follows you.

“I messed up,” you squeak as you step outside, the chilly evening air hitting your uncovered skin immediately. “I messed up big time!”

“What? Why? What happened?”

Stepping to the edge, you wrap your hands around the railing, staring out into the void for a moment. Leslie Stands beside you, quite puzzled about your sudden panic.

“Remember the guy I told you about from Friday night?” you ask, keeping your voice down even though there’s no one really around. Leslie nods. “Well… he was the guy.”

Leslie glances back inside and then at you before her eyes widen and lips part in shock.

“You fucked Harry Styles at a club’s bathroom?!” she whisper-yells at you and you feel like a teenager who is getting scolded.

“I didn’t know who he was! And I genuinely think he didn’t know me either, how could he?! But now he is here and… Oh God, this is so bad,” you whine, your head dropping backwards as you let out a frustrated growl.

“Okay, don’t panic. Maybe… maybe he doesn’t remember you.”

“You can’t make me believe he doesn’t remember me after fucking me on a counter,” you tell her giving her a look.

“Alright, alright. Then… you just have to suck it up. It’s not like you can unfuck him,” she shrugs and though you know she is right, you just wish you could leave right now.

You never planned on seeing him again. Your bullshit speech about letting fate decide it was just an excuse to not give him your number. You didn’t want to because you thought he is not the kind of man that would be good for you. From his look you thought that he was either a fuckboy, not willing to commit to anything serious, or the kind of man that seems all nice and respectful at first but then turns out to be a total asshole and you’ve had enough of those in your twenty-eight years.

Soon enough you head back as the auction is about to start. Luckily, your seat is far away from Harry and it seems like he hasn’t noticed you yet. Though you wish to keep it that way, you can feel it coming already.

The auction goes by fast, you buy a new painting that will look amazing in your living room and almost twice as much money is raised through the evening that was the goal. You leave Leslie behind at the table as you go to the bar to get yourself another drink, probably your last one of the evening if you don’t want to end up making a fool out of yourself.

Patiently waiting at the bar you’re already thinking about watching Grey’s Anatomy when you get back and out of this tight dress. You look hot, but it’s not the comfiest look, if you’re being honest. There’s only one more person in front of you when you feel a little tap on your shoulder and turning around your stomach drops when you see the man you’ve been trying to avoid all evening.

“Fancy seeing you here, Y/N,” he nods shortly, his expression is quite blank, but he is definitely not shocked to see you. You tighten your jaw before looking away from him, squinting your eyes a bit.

“You don’t seem surprised,” you point out.

“I was kind of expecting to see you here tonight.”

“So you knew who I was all along?” you snap at him, but he shakes his head.

“Not until the stream this week. I was pretty shocked when you walked on stage.”

Nodding shortly you brush your hair over your shoulder and you catch Harry glimpsing down your body, but decide not to comment on it.

“Did you know who I was?” he then asks, digging his hands into his pockets.

“No, I wouldn’t sleep with my biggest competitor willingly.”

“Just from the abrupt ending I had a feeling that you might have known me.”

“Just because a woman doesn’t throws herself into your arms after a fuck, doesn’t mean she had ulterior motives,” you scoff. “Get off your high horse,” you add before turning back towards the bar so you can order your drink. Unfortunately, Harry doesn’t want the conversation to end just yet. His hand is laid flat on the counter in front of you as he stands on your right, a little too close to your liking. You can smell the expensive cologne on him, the same that hit your nose on Friday as well and suddenly your body is betraying you.

However crazy the situation is, you can’t deny that he gave you one of the best times last Friday. Men you dealt with were more concerned about their own pleasure and most of them didn’t even get you to finish. But Harry made it happen so fast and didn’t even bitch about it when you made him rub your clit. He just obeyed like a grownup man who is willingly take care of his partner. That almost made you change your mind about leaving, but once you came down from cloud nine, you returned to your original plan.

But not as he is standing in front of you and you can smell him, your senses trick you into thinking that you’re in that bathroom again, almost aching for him to touch you the way he did then. He leans closer to your ear as he speaks up again.

“Leave the drink, dance with me,” he tells you as the bartender places your drink in front of you. You debate what to do before grabbing the drink and chugging it down in one go. You’ll need the alcohol if you are about to dance with your enemy.

Harry takes you to the dance floor in the middle of the ball room, one of his hands finds the small of your back while the other takes your hand as the two of you start swaying to the gentle music played by the band.

“Your aunt set my company back in women’s fashion every time I tried to take a step forward. Are you going to do the same?”

“She didn’t do anything to set you back but to build her own company. Not everything is about you.”

“You sound a little naïve, Love. It’s pretty clear you are new in the business.” This statement riles you up big time. How dare he degrade you like that? He knows nothing about you, yet he assumes things that are not at all real.

Smirking to yourself you lean back enough so your gazes can meet. Your hand slides up from his shoulders to the base of his neck so your fingers can gently brush against his skin and you notice the shudder than runs down his spine. He is not the only one having flashbacks from your last encounter.

“Wanna know what I know about business?” you purr, his eyes glued to your red lips as you speak. “I know that… Twisted was one of the last sites to participate in personalized ads on online platforms, failing to reach it’s targeted audience as fast as literally everyone else. I know that your company and my company use the same security system in our server rooms yet I can assure you that it cost me twenty percent less because we waited a month before installing it and got a huge last minute discount because the security company was trying to boost their numbers for their end of year closing. And I also happen to know that you are working on a new design for your website that could easily be outshone if I just did the same before you could do it.”

Harry’s lips part, probably mostly at the last information. He has no idea how you know these stuff, but you have a wide circle of connections in the city, you have an insider at every big companies in the industry without them even knowing. You’ve given countless tips to your aunt through the years, that’s how she managed to stay on top of her games.

Leaning closer your lips almost brush against him and you see how he weakens, he is expecting you to kiss him and he wants it. But you just smile at him, your eyes snapping down to his lips before up to his eyes.

“I will not do the same as my aunt, Harry,” you softly speak, your fingers grazing the back of his neck. “I will do way worse things.”

And with that, you slip out of his arms and walk back to your table, leaving him standing there alone at a complete loss of words.

“What the fuck had gotten into you?” Niall grimaces upon hearing everything he told you on the evening of the charity event. And quite frankly, Harry has no answer to that. He has absolutely no idea what had gotten into him to act like such a dick when you didn’t do anything against him.

The situation just messed with his head, seeing you in that breathtaking dress, mingling with everyone, smiling and laughing, oh how he wished you were laughing on his jokes! But then you seemed so tensed when he came up to you and something just switched in him. He wanted to take dominance, to somehow get out of it on top, but he miserably failed. When you brought up their plans to change the design he completely froze.

“No idea, okay? I just…lost it,” he growls, sinking into the couch. When Niall found out that Harry met the woman from the club again he insisted on coming over with some wine to talk it out, but he was not expecting this kind of story at all.

“Dude, you just put yourself on her radar big time, maybe she wouldn’t have even bothered to compete with you like her aunt did, but you surely changed her mind now.”

“I know, Niall!” Harry growls, not in the mood to be scolded like a little child. “Do you think she’ll change their design before we do?” he peeks at his friend, but Niall just shrugs.

“No idea, but I would try to speed it up before she actually does it.”

 Harry made you into a ticking bomb and you successfully got under his skin about the whole design project so first thing the next morning he went to Zayn to discuss a possible earlier debut for the new designs. Though it would be a close stretch, they agreed that it would go live by the end of the week and that got Harry somehow a little relieved, but in the middle of that he failed to put the right amount of effort into finding designers for their female lines.

When he meets up with Lambert a few days later he is not there to deliver great news. Apparently, three out of the four designers they were negotiating with recently pulled out of their deal and signed a contract with Cometa.

“We have one last designer on the list, but then… we are out of the bigger names,” Lambert sighs as Harry chews on his bottom lip anxiously. He feels like he has fallen into a hole a while ago and instead of climbing out he is just digging it deeper underneath him.

“Okay, do we have an appointment with them?” Harry asks.

“Yeah, I’m meeting her this afternoon.”

“I’m going with you,” he nods before standing from his chair and opening the door he calls out for his assistant. “Rebecca, please clear my schedule for this afternoon, I’ll be out of the office.”

Rebecca nods behind her desk, already starting to make calls about Harry’s meetings and appointments.

It’s obvious he is anxious about the meeting, because if it falls through they are forced to look for less known designers and that won’t bring the change for the company they’ve been seeking for a long time. Arriving to the showroom where the designer is working, Harry is setting his thoughts straight, determined to convince her to sign a contract with them. The two men are let into the building by the nice assistant working at the front desk and she shows the way to the showroom where Kennedy, the designer is waiting for them.

Harry is confident, he trusts his skills to make this happen, but when they walk inside he instantly freezes upon seeing an all too familiar figure standing with Kennedy

A maroon colored pantsuit is hugging your curves, a Hermés handbag hanging from your arm, your hair falling in loose curls. As if you could sense his presence, you peek over your shoulder, a devilish smirk on your lips when you see the shocked expression on Harry’s face.

“What a great surprise!” you beam, selling how happy you are to see him and in a way, you are. You wanted to see his face drop when he realizes you snatched yet another designer from him.

“Oh, Mr. Styles!” Kennedy smiles nicely at him and he finally snaps out of his trance, shaking hands with her and then turning to you, doing the same but in a lot colder manner.

“Y/N, nice to see you again,” he fakes a smile as your hand falls from his palm.

“I could say the same. But I’m heading out now. Great talk, Kennedy. I’ll be waiting for your call,” you wink at the young designer who seems to be thrilled by your words as she walks you to the exit.

“Fucking hell,” Harry mumbles under his breath and Lambert shoots him a look before Kennedy returns.

The three of them take a seat on the couches in the corner of the room and Harry is quick to get down to business, trying his best to make his offer appear more appealing than anything you told her right before their arrival. Kennedy listens intently, even takes notes and then she shows him some examples of what she was thinking about for her next line and Harry is beyond thrilled.

Unfortunately, soon comes the painful part.

“Harry, I’m gonna be honest with you,” Kennedy starts and Harry already knows what she is about to say. “Your offer is very tempting and it would be an honor to design a line for Twisted, but in my situation it would be more beneficial if I collaborated with Cometa. It is nothing against your company, it’s more about my personal path and growth.”

Harry can feel his stomach dropping and he clenches his jaw as he listens to Kennedy’s worth. He understands, of course he understands, she has the right to selfishly look at her own benefits upon signing with a new company, but he wished she would take the risk and chose his company instead of yours.

“I’m keeping the offer open for you still,” he forces a smile on his face. “If you change your mind, Twisted would be more than happy to work with you.”

Kennedy walks the two men out and the fake smile quickly vanishes from Harry’s face upon stepping out of the building.

“What are we going to do now?” Lambert asks, clearly worried about how they’re gonna move forward with their last chance falling.

“If Y/N wants a war, that’s what she’ll get,” Harry growls, revenge burning in the greens of his eyes.

It’s a quiet Friday afternoon, only hours left from the day before you are headed home finally. You’re sitting in your office with Leslie, going over next week’s schedule to make sure everything is set and clear.

It’s been almost an entire month since you stepped into your aunt’s shoes as head of the company and though the start was a little rough, especially with finding out who Harry was, but you feel like you have everything under your control by now. After all, you didn’t learn business for years from the bests for nothing, right?

Harry’s comment on you knowing nothing about the industry made you bitter, because he knows nothing about you and the struggle you went through your life to get to this point. It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbow, being Julia’s niece might have been a hugely influencing aspect of you taking over, but you worked your ass off to be the best leader you can and not just ruin everything she built up through her whole life.

Though you didn’t always want to be the one following her, but you like to think that things worked out to your favor and you are where you should be.

“Alright, everything is looking fine,” Leslie smiles at you over her laptop. “I’ll send you the notes from today’s meeting.”

“Thank you. Can you call in with the delivery company about next month’s transactions?” you ask her and she nods, already adding it to her list of tasks for the rest of the day. “Alright. I’ll do the rest of the signings and then we can head out,” you smile at her.

Leslie is grabbing her things from the table when there’s a soft knock on the door. You give your permission and one of the tech support guys walk in with a worried look on his face.

“Miss Y/L/N? I’m afraid we have a problem,” he clears his throat and you can already feel your anxiety crawl up on your spine.

“What is it?” you ask firmly. The guy steps farther inside, fumbling with his fingers as he presents the issue.

“There’s been an attempt to break our software’s security system where we keep our data about the sellings. A-And I’m afraid it wasn’t just an attempt, they succeeded.”

You take a deep breath, glancing over at Leslie for a moment before you follow the man to the tech department to investigate the issue further. You don’t know shit about these stuff, but from what he said you know the trouble is huge and if you don’t solve it as soon as possible, valuable data could leak out to the public. They try to explain you what they are working on as of right now and that there’s not much you can actually help with.

“Make sure to put your extra hours on your attendance sheets and let me know when you are able to restore the system,” you tell them and you earn quite a few thank yous on your way out for actually paying the overtime. Then you turn to the guy that first came to your office. “Do you have any information about who it could have been?”

“We weren’t able to track them back, but whoever it was, they’re surely professionals and they might know the system from the inside.”

“What do you mean from the inside? Someone did it from the company?” you ask, eyebrows knitting together as you fold your arms on your chest.

“No,” he shakes his head. “We would have been able to track that back. I mean that they know the system, maybe they worked somewhere where the same one was used and they could see into it.”

It takes you a few moments before you realize what this really is and it has your blood boiling right away. Nodding shortly you exhale sharply through your nose.

“Thank you, please call me when it’s up and running again, I’ll take care of the rest,” you tell him before turning around you walk away.

When Leslie sees you approaching your office with a head practically turning red she is quick to jump to her feet, following you into the office.

“What’s happening?”

“Harry Styles, that’s what happening,” you snap as you grab your phone, purse and coat before heading out, not wasting another minute.

“What? Where are you going now?”

“To the devil himself,” you growl back and enter the elevator, leaving her alone with her questions.

Sitting in your car on your way to the headquarters of Twisted, you imagine every scenario you want to make happen when you arrive, most of them including hitting the man across his ridiculously handsome yet annoying face. He crossed a line with breaking into your system and stealing valuable data. Though you’re sure he wouldn’t dare to sell or publish it, because he would be in a big legal trouble if he did, he still had a glimpse into your numbers and that’s already an advantage. He is playing dirty and you’re not having any of it.

Arriving you burst through the doors and demand to see him. Though the woman behind the front desk tells you that you can’t see him without an appointment, you still get her to make a call up and naturally, Harry allows you to see him. The fucker might already have been waiting for you to show up. As you stand in the all glass elevator, on your way up to meet him you take a few deep breaths to keep your cool and not snap like a maniac, however it all vanishes when you see him waiting for you with that shit-eating grin on his face when you step out of the elevator.

“You’re lucky I didn’t go straight to the police with your little stunt, you fucker!” you snap, not able to hold back your swearing any longer.

“Do you have any evidence?” he tilts his head to the side and you don’t miss how his gaze runs down your body as you march towards him. You’d find it flattering in another situation, but right now you just want to punch him in the face.

“I’ll show some evidence down your throat, Styles, if you don’t stop messing with my security system,” you growl back, standing so close to him now that you see every tiny freckle and blemish on his face and the way how he clenches his jaw, holding his gaze on yours.

Without a word or invitation, you walk into the room that you suppose is his office and he follows with a soft chuckle.

“Did you hire a hacker just to mess with me?” you throw the question at him as he closes the door so his employees don’t hear everything.

“What if I did?” he shrugs, stepping to the tray on his desk that already has a glass of whiskey on it. He grabs the glass and simply lifts it to his lips, taking a tiny sip from it. “Oh, excuse my manners. Would you like a drink?”

“I’m driving,” you answer shortly. “You crossed a line, Harry,” you warn him.

“What line?” he chuckles, rather entertained by your rage. “After what you pulled with Kennedy, I think I went easy on you.”

“I didn’t pull anything, I just gave her a better offer! It’s not my fault she has better chances with my company!” you snap back, feeling your heartbeat fastening from the anger that’s boiling in your veins.

“You knew I wanted her to design for me, why couldn’t you just let one person out of your endless list? You already have everyone else, she was my last fucking chance!” Harry barks back, clearly having some built up tension in him as well.

“If you didn’t act like an arrogant asshole at the charity gala, I would have happily let you work with her, but then you felt the need to fucking degrade me! That’s why I didn’t let you get away with it!”

Harry opens his mouth to answer, but he quickly closes his mouth, probably knowing well you’re right. He did act shitty towards you that evening and he has no excuse for his behavior. You walk closer until there are just a few feet between the two of you, your eyes glued to his burning green gaze that’s staring back at you, but before you could speak up, he cuts you off.

“Well, you know. All is fair in… war and business,” he shrugs and you honestly barely can stop yourself from laughing at how stupid that just sounded. You can’t miss the twitch in the corner of his mouth as well and you can’t believe how easily he made you break out of your rage.

“Don’t try to make money out of writing slogans,” you huff shaking your head and now he is grinning widely. “Do you have the data?”

“I don’t,” he answers and you narrow your eyes at him.

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not,” he chuckles. “I had it, but I already deleted it. I know it wasn’t ethical so as soon as it was handed to me I deleted it. I didn’t even look into it. I just wanted to scare you.”

“And how do I know your hacker doesn’t have it either?”

“Because he signed a contract that would cost him millions to break and I don’t think a junior in college who is still living in a dorm can afford that,” he points out and now you are somewhat convinced. You stare back at him for a few more seconds before nodding.

“Stay out of my way and I’ll stay out of yours, how does that sound?” you offer generously.

“Where’s the fun in that?” he questions with a smug smirk that makes your arch an eyebrow at him. “What are you doing tomorrow evening?” he then asks and you can’t mask your surprise in front of him.

“That does not concern you, Styles,” you scoff, though it boosts your ego that even through all the hate you’ve been targeting at each other, he still wants you the same way he did at the club that evening. You can’t deny, this rivalry has sparked a few thoughts in you as well, but you are not going to fall into the same mistake you made that evening. You pay him another smirk before turning around and heading towards the door. “Stay out of my way, Styles!” you call back without looking at him, but you just know he is grinning at you, a growing sexual tension thickening the atmosphere in the room.

“Or what?” he smugly questions and you stop at the door, glancing back at him over your shoulder.

“Or… You said it yourself. All is fair in war and business,” you smirk before walking out of the office.

Following your visit to Harry’s office things take a… playful turn in your rivalry. The attempts and competing don’t stop, both of you are on each other’s radar, ruining and messing with each other’s projects and works whenever and wherever it’s possible, but it’s not as hateful as it was at the beginning. If something, it even helps you to always be on your toes and watch out for possible threats, not just from Harry but from everyone else.

Neither of you succeeds in evolving in each other’s field, Cometa keeps thriving in women’s fashion with a quite small variety offered for the gentlemen while Twisted fails to grow out of men’s fashion and venture to the ladies, but somehow it’s not as frustrating as it used to be before.

Harry keeps up his flirty acts and tries to ask you out every time your paths cross each other, but you relentlessly turn him down every time, only fueling him to keep chasing after you more the next time. It’s a thrilling and flattering little game, knowing that even with all the rivalry between the two of you, being the biggest competitors in the business… he still wants you.

New York fashion week rolls around and it’s by far one of your favorite times in the year. You managed to snatch an exclusive deal with YSL to release a special line just for the fashion week and it sold out in the first two hours, now waiting to be restocked in a few days. Cometa is thriving and your aunt has expressed her pride towards the work you’ve been doing at the company, so things are heading the right direction.

You knew Harry would be attending the same shows as you, but it’s fate or just luck that you are seated next to each other at one of the shows, giving you the chance to talk without any of you attempting to corrupt the other this time.

Harry is already sitting in his seat when you arrive wearing a custom made Gucci dress, something that immediately catches his eyes since he is a huge fan of the brand himself.

“Your fashion sense never disappoints, Y/N,” he beams up at you as you take the seat next to him.

“Hope that’s not surprising, Styles,” You smirk at him, taking a glance at his own Gucci outfit, the checkered pants fitting him perfectly while the pussy bow adds some spice to the whole outfit, you have to admit. He looks good, he always does.

“Any plans after the show?” he asks right before the lights go out and the show starts. You leave him without an answer, just let out a soft chuckle as you glue your eyes to the first model who walks the runway.

Once the show is over you head out with Harry by your side, having an actually entertaining discussion about the designs you just saw. He might not be an expert in fashion, but he has developed a good sense through his years.

As you make your way out of the venue you are stopped by an interviewer and Harry remains on your side as the woman asks you a few questions about the show.

“I’ve always wondered, does it bother you that you couldn’t be on the runway yourself? You’ve been sitting front row the past years, but you once had aspirations of being a model yourself, is that right?”

The question makes you tense up and you can feel Harry’s puzzled look on you from the side.

“It’s not like it was my fault for not making it up there,” you sass back, forcing a smile to your face.

“Well, that’s not entirely true,” the woman chuckles and it has your blood boiling, because you know the real meaning behind her words.

It’s your fault you didn’t become a model because you were never thin enough to be one. It was your fault and not the industry’s to hold impossible standards to women who wanted to succeed as a model.

The smile falters from your face and you take a long, judgmental look at the woman in front of you. Because if she is brave enough to talk like that to you, you’re not gonna shy away from bringing her spirits down either.

“Judging from your appearance and attitude you wouldn’t make it either,” you spitefully reply and her smile quickly fades, clearly shocked at your answer. You open your mouth again, ready to continue, but then you feel a hand on the small of your back and you realize Harry is still standing next to you.

“Come on, we have somewhere to be, right?” he smiles kindly as you just simply nod and walk away from the woman before she could offend you again.

Harry senses your tension as the two of you leave the venue but doesn’t try to talk to you and that’s a wise choice from him. As you step out of the building you realize that if you went home now you’d probably get drunk on your own and let that comment get to you more than you should. So instead of doing that you turn to Harry.

“So, what are our plans?” you ask and you don’t miss the small smile on his lips as he stares back at you.

Not in the mood to stay around people at a bar you accept Harry’s invitation to his place, since it’s also close. The contrast between his extravagant penthouse and your cozy but still quite modern townhouse in Park Slope is major, but you didn’t expect anything less from the man.

You’ve managed to calm down since you left the venue, but you’re still quite bitter about the comment the woman made. Harry hasn’t tried to ask you about it, but you can tell he is dying to know more about the situation that’s behind the madness.

He fixes you a drink and you find yourself sinking into his comfortable and probably ridiculously expensive couch in his living room area.

“I used to want to be a model,” you start, breaking the silence that settled between the two of you. “When I was a teen. I was a lot thinner, I was a competitive dancer until I was seventeen, but I had a knee injury, so I had to quit.”

Harry sits on the other end of the couch, listening to you with patience as he sips on his own drink.

“I was never as thin as the other models at the agency I was trying to get into, but I definitely wasn’t overweight. Yet, they labelled me as a plus size model. I was a healthy, strong young girl with a perfectly good body, yet they told me that I was too fat to be a model.”

Glancing at Harry, you can tell that he is surprised at the information he just learned. He is probably picturing you thinner now, going to model castings and if you’re being honest you enjoyed that part. The trouble came when you got rejection after rejection, telling you to lose weight and come back after that.

“I quit my whole plan to be a model and studied fashion and business instead, consciously working my way towards this point. But I never got over how the industry made me feel less of a person because I wasn’t a size zero.”

For a few long moments Harry just stares at you and it’s actually nice that he doesn’t try to make you feel better right away, praising you how you are perfect just the way you are. Because you’re not, but that’s fine because no one is.

“I’ve honestly never seen a more cruel industry than fashion before,” he then speaks up. “I didn’t grow up in it and still don’t really have that much and deep connection with it, but I know how fucked up it is. And it’s nice to see that you know your worth even after everything that happened.”

Your gaze meets his and you’re looking for any sign that gives away that he is just messing with you, but it’s all genuine. You just shoot him a small smile before lifting your drink to your lips. It’s the most intimate moment you’ve shared with him, including the ones you had in that bathroom.

“Okay, now you tell me something about your life,” you prompt, wanting to divert the conversation on him a little bit.

“What do you want to know?” he asks with a soft chuckle.

“Why did you name your brand Twisted?” you ask. The question has been on your mind for a while.

“It’s coming from my mum’s name. Anne Twist.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, you weren’t expecting such a deep and personal reason behind the name, connected to a family member.

“Why her?”

“Why not?” he smirks shrugging his shoulders. “She raised me and my sister up, I wouldn’t be here without her. It was obvious I would make her be part of it in some kind of way.”

“That’s actually very nice. Who knew that you could be something other than an egoistic asshole!” you joke, making him laugh as well.

“Okay, what’s the meaning behind your brand?” he then turns it back around.

“Well, my aunt met her husband when they were very young, maybe eighteen. She fell in love with Fabio on her trip to Italy and being the impulsive and adventurous woman that she is, she stayed for a month there just because of Fabio. He is a very passionate man and he was always ready to bring the stars down for Julia. He always used to tell her that he would even catch a comet for her, if that’s what she wanted. And that was my aunt’s favorite saying from him. Cometa is comet in Italian. It’s her tribute to the love of her life.”

“That’s easily the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard,” Harry hums and you just smile nodding at him. It really is like a fairytale and it’s also one of the reasons why you were so happy to take her place at Cometa. Julia is still just as in love with Fabio as she was at eighteen and she deserves to spend more time with her beloved husband. She earned the time off after all the sacrifices she made for the company and all through them Fabio stayed by her side. It’s their well-earned happy ending now.

“You know a lot about romantic things?” you cock an eyebrow at him, finishing up your drink.

“Actually, I’m a quite romantic guy.”

“Are you now?”

“Yeah, you just never gave me the chance to show it to you.”

“Oh, so now I’m the bad guy?” you chuckle, handing him your glass when he stands from the couch to get you a refill.

“Exactly!” he chuckles holding up your empty glass on his way. “I hope you know you absolutely broke my heart when you didn’t give me your number that night.”

“Oh, you poor little thing,” you chuckle, resting your head in your palm, your elbow on the back of the couch. “I’m not sorry though. You didn’t give out the right vibes.”

“The right vibes?” he huffs as he returns with your drink and now sits a little closer to you. “What vibe did I give you?” “The vibe that told me I shouldn’t mess with you,” you simply answer as you take a sip from your refilled drink.

“You were so keen on hating me even before you knew who I was, I can’t believe you,” he chuckles shaking his head.

“I’m just cautious!” you protest. “I’ve dealt with some problematic men in the past, I can’t let myself walk right into another one that easily.”

“What did they do?”

“Some men just can’t treat women right. Especially confident ones with a body like mine,” you simply shrug.

Men like to think that bigger girls are so terribly insecure about their body that they need the validation of a male to feel good about themselves. But when you’re confident and feel good in your own skin without needing them to praise you, they think that you’re egoistic, so full of yourself and they are quick to try to drag you down. That’s something you can’t tolerate. You don’t need a man to feel good about yourself, you don’t need anyone for that. You know your worth and that’s all that matters.

Harry’s eyes travel down your body, taking his time on your curves and you smile shaking your head as you reach out and cupping his chin you pull his head up so he is looking into your eyes.

“I honestly can’t see what problem anyone could have with your body. I haven’t stopped thinking about it since our bathroom fiasco,” he bluntly comments making you chuckle, even flattered by his words.

“You are such a flirt,” you grin at him and he doesn’t try to protest.

You stay for a couple more drinks and you drop the heavier topics, venturing over to music, fashion and any funny stories that come to your mind. Harry is actually amazing company when you’re not trying to jump at each other’s throat and for a few short hours you forget that he is supposed to be your competitor.

You’re a little tipsy, but you are definitely not drunk, so when Harry offers you to stay the night you turn it down, calling yourself a car since you are not in the right state to drive.

“I’ll come and pick my car up in the morning,” you breathe out as you put your heels back on that came off your feet sometime during the evening, making yourself home in his place.

“I’ll text you the security number to the garage,” he nods, walking you to the elevator.

“Thank you. And… I guess thank you for the evening,” you smile at him, turning to face him. He is standing close, but still takes a step closer, one of his hands finding your waist as he pulls you against his chest. Your palms lie flat on his chest as you try to get yourself to the right mindset to leave now before you regret doing something. Leaning down his nose nudges against your cheek, before he presses a soft kiss under below your ear, a sigh escaping your lips.

“I should go, the car is here,” you breathe out, but don’t move.

“Mm, okay,” he hums, his lips peppering kisses on your jaw and your cheek, as if you didn’t say a word. You want to continue it, not just because of the alcohol but because the sexual tension between the two of you has been growing since that charity gala, but the remainder of your rationality stops you before your lips could meet.

“Bye Harry,” you smile at him softly as you push him away and you walk into the elevator, leaving him hanging. Again.

“Bye Y/N. I’m still going to try to ruin your company!” he calls after you as you turn around to face him, the sliding doors slowly closing between the two of you.

“Same back at you, Styles,” you smirk before the door closes and you are taken down.

Well, that was a lie. Following your evening at his place neither of you really tries to work against the other, leaving each other be without any fuss. It might also have something to do with how you kept in touch after that day. You’ve been texting occasionally, attending some events together, even had a business dinner together with a few other peers from the industry. Things have been quiet and you’ve been feeling content with the current state you’ve managed to reach. Or so you thought.

It was a silent agreement between the two of you. You both put your projects aside that targeted the other’s profile. Harry stopped looking for designers for his women lines and you put your men department to the side as well. There were a lot to work on beside these fields so you felt like you were in peace. Right until Leslie bursts into your office on a casual Tuesday.

“Have you seen this?” she asks, placing a tablet in front of you with an Instagram account open on it.

You want to ask what you’re supposed to look at, but then you realize what it really is. A shiny new account for a new brand that promises to take online shopping to the next level; female and male as well.

“You think it could be…?” you ask, not quite convinced that Harry is behind this.

“Well, the wording is similar to theirs and creating a new brand might be a solution to their gap in women’s fashion,” she points it out, though you don’t want to believe he could have been working on this all along, basically in front of your face.

But it’s a possibility and you have to consider this option before jumping into defending him without any proof.

“Men can’t be trusted,” you grumble under your breath before jumping into work.

What you didn’t know is that an eerily similar situation goes down in Harry’s office as well when Zayn bursts in, showing him the ad he found for the new brand called Farfalla.

Harry immediately digs up everything about the company, though there’s not much other than their new Instagram account and heavy marketing that started just yesterday.

“What is Farfalla even?” he grimaces leaning back in his chair.

“It means butterfly in Italian,” Zayn explains and Harry’s eyes flicker up to him.

“Italian? You think it’s her?”

“It’s possible,” Zayn nods. “Starting a new brand to finally reach men’s fashion is a good idea.”

“She wouldn’t have done this,” Harry shakes his head in disbelief. Could you be working on this all along? Was this your plan from the start? To make him fall for you and forget about business while you built up your new empire to ruin him?

“What if she did?” Zayn prompts and in a way his suspicion is valid, but Harry is having a hard time believing it. You would never play him this dirty, not after how the two of you have grown closer in the past weeks, almost became friends.

“What are you going to do?” Zayn asks him as he pushes himself away from the desk and quite obviously starts getting ready to leave.

“She is not getting away from this,” Harry mumbles under his breath as he grabs his coat and phone before storming out of the office.

It’s past six when Harry gets to Cometa’s building and he is informed that you’ve already went home. He could have just come back in the morning, but he knew he would just stew in his own anger if he didn’t talk to you as soon as possible. So using his charm he gets the woman sitting behind the front desk to share your address with him, saying that he needs to talk to you urgently. That’s how he finds himself heading to Park Slope, slightly surprised you are not living somewhere in the heart of Manhattan.

As the scenery around his changes, skyscrapers turning into brick buildings and townhouses, Harry tries to figure out what he even wants to say to you. Should he just get straight down to business and accuse you? Snap at you? Or should he give you the chance to explain yourself? He can’t really make up his mind, mostly because he still feels like you betrayed him even though he can’t be sure Farfalla is yours.

Parking down at the address he got from the woman, he stares up at the deep red brick townhouse, a simple, black door at the top of the stairs that’s lined with a few potted plants and flowers. This is not what he would have imagined your home like, but now that he is standing on your doormat, he realizes it kind of suits you.

Ringing the bell he hopes that you’re home and not out and about somewhere in the city, but when he hears the familiar sound of heels clicking on the floor he knows you are on the other side. When the front door flings open and you come into his sight, for a split second he forgets why he is here and his anger vanishes. As always, you look amazing, a tight, black dress hugging your curves, the middle part appearing like it’s a corset, emphasizing the dip of your waist. Your hair is let down in loose curls and your feet are bare, but he knows you probably wore heels all day. You must have gotten home not long ago and as your eyes fall on the man at the door, your expression hardens on him.

“You really had the balls to come her, huh?” you cock your head to the side, keeping your eyes on his green ones for a moment before you let him inside.

“Did you think you could get away with it?” he huffs walking into the hallway and stopping as you close the door and turn to him.

“Me? I could say the same! You thought I would just ignore it or what? I proved you a few times that I’m not stupid, Harry,” you retort, folding your arms on your chest as you walk past him, into the kitchen and he follows.

“You surely are not stupid, playing me so dirty behind my back!” Harry spats standing his ground. “Playing all friendly and nice and then make a fool out of me!”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” you question narrowing your eyes at him as you lean against the kitchen island’s counter. “If anyone played dirty it’s you! And you have the balls to come here and talk like this to me in my own fucking home?!” you snap, walking closer to him, keeping your deathly glare on him.

“What the fuck did I do?!” he scoffs throwing his hands into the air.

“You created a whole new brand just to fuck with me! Or did you think I wouldn’t find out about it?!”

“Me? You made a new brand! And you didn’t do a great job hiding the fact that it was your work, even the name is Italian, like your current one!”

You stare back at him, tilting your head to the side as you process what he is talking about. All along, the two of you were accusing each other of something neither of you did.

“Harry,” you breathe out, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Farfalla is not my brand.”

“And I’m supposed to believe it?!”

“Well you better be because it’s the fucking truth!”

“Prove it!” he hisses at you, taking a step closer, his face only inches away from yours now.

“Until about twenty seconds ago I thought that it was your new brand, Harry. I thought that you were the one who backstabbed me!” you snap back, standing up for yourself in this giant misunderstanding you fell into, accusing each other without any proof.

Harry stares back at you, his gaze burning into yours as he stands his ground and you can almost see the gears turning in his head as he processes your words.

“So… it’s not yours? You didn’t do it to fuck me up?”

“Of course not!” you breathe out, suddenly quite tired of all the anger that’s been eating you away through the afternoon. “I thought that we had a kind of silent agreement not to mess with each other so I wasn’t planning anything anytime soon. That’s why I got so mad when I thought you did it!”

“I thought the same!” he growls shaking his head. “I thought you did it all to just make me look stupid, that the friendly act was just so I wouldn’t notice a thing and I fell right into your trap.”

“There was no trap,” you simply tell him and you hope he senses the hidden meaning behind your words.

Luckily he does. But for your biggest surprise there’s no snarky comment or smug smirking, he just steps closer and before you could even protest, his hands find your waist and he pulls you against his hard chest, lips hungry attacking yours. He makes you back until you bump against the kitchen island, his hips pressing against yours as he pushes you against the hard surface, his hands wandering on your sides and back, up and down, exploring every curve of your body while his kisses never slow down, your tongues meeting in the middle.

Bringing up a leg you curl it around his hips, your heel digging into his round ass as he leans forward, making you arch your back, leaning onto the counter as his lips move from your lips to your jawline and neck, his fingers digging into your waist and the thigh that’s lifted by his side. He nibbles on the soft skin of your neck, definitely leaving a mark, but you just comb your fingers through his hair, letting yourself get lost in the sensation.

“As much as I would love to fuck you on a counter again, can we take this to a bedroom?” he mumbles as he kisses his way back up to your lips, smirking against them as he captures them again.

You don’t answer, just grab his hand and pull him upstairs with you, right into your bedroom. He is all over you, lips, hands, tongue, pressed up against you as the two of you stumble your way to your king sized bed. Harry’s fingers fidget with the corset on your dress, but he soon realizes it’s a little trickier than he expected, so leaning back he furrows his eyebrows as he glances down at the dress, still trying to figure out how to get you out of it.

“Harry,” you smile at him softly. “It’s faux. There’s a zipper at the back,” you inform him and he sighs in defeat as he kisses you again, his fingers quickly finding the zipper. The dress pools at your feet and you rid him from his jacket and shirt, revealing his inked chest, a sight you’ve been thinking about way too much lately.

By the time the two of you fall to your bed, neither of you are dressed in more than just your underwear. Because both of you like to be in charge, you roll around for a while, trying to get on top of each other but eventually Harry stays up when he starts going down on you, kissing his way through your heated skin. You don’t shy away when his hands snake under your back and easily unclasps your bra, being bare in front of him is not something that makes you feel uncomfortable or insecure. The way he looks at you, the way he makes you feel brings you so much confidence, you have absolutely no problem being nude.

When your bra flies to the floor, Harry leans back a little to admire you lying there, before his lips find their way over the curve of your breasts, down your stomach. Hooking his fingers into the elastic of your panties he tugs them down easily as you lift your hips, your thighs parting as you bare yourself in front of him.

“Don’t be shy about screaming my name,” he smugly tells you before his lips and tongue meet your clit. Your fingers lace through his hair immediately as you gasp out at the sensation, his tongue drawing the whole fucking alphabet to your bundle of nerves. His arms curl around your thighs, ring clad fingers digging into your flesh as he sucks on the sensitive skin.

“Fuck, Harry! Yes!” you moan out, tugging on his locks when he teases his tongue around your hole, your walls tightening around nothing as you are growing desperate to feel something inside of you.

You pull on his hair, signaling him that you want to get it on with, Hands reaching down to get rid of his boxer briefs before you blindly pull out the drawer of your nightstand, grabbing a condom. His lips eagerly meet yours as he wraps his erected cock and though you would love to have a taste of him like he did with you, you just want to feel him inside you.

“Tell me how bad you want it,” he growls against your lips, teasing you with running just the head up and down your slit.

“If you don’t fuck me right now I’m gonna rip your guts out,” you warn him, earning a soft chuckle as he kisses you again, tongue pushing into your mouth as he finally pushes inside you, his long, thick cock filling you up perfectly and it somehow feels even better than the first time.

“Go hard,” you gasp, a hand coming to grab his ass as you push him even further into you. He doesn’t need more, he starts slamming into you, his hips meeting yours roughly with each thrust, his whole length disappearing inside you every time.

He buries his head into the crook of your neck, licking and sucking on the soft skin. You almost think about telling him not to mark you, but it just turns you on even more so you let him do whatever he wants.

“I want to see you on top,” he pants, lifting his head so his gaze could meet yours. You nod, before the two of you turn around and you straddle his hips, guiding him back inside you as you sink down his length. Your hands are sprawled out on his hard chest as you find your balance in the position, Harry’s eyes roaming your body up and down, not able to get enough of how blissful you look, sitting with his cock buried inside of you, enjoying yourself to the fullest. His hands run up your thighs and upper body until they find your breasts, kneading them as you start moving your hips up and down, back and forth. When you moan his name or gasp because his cock reaches that one particular spot inside you, those are the moments he wishes he could capture on camera and watch whenever he wants.

“I want it from back,” you pant as you lean down and kiss him roughly. That’s all he needs, he helps you get off of him before you get on all four, pushing your butt up in the air while Harry kneels behind you, the sight in front of him hardening his cock even more, if that’s possible. His hands grab onto your waist as he pushes inside you, making you both let out a satisfied moan before he starts moving again.

“Fuck, you look so good like this, Y/N. I love your ass,” he growls, giving it a smack that surprises you, but you absolutely love it.

“Harry, go faster!” you whimper, feeling your orgasm nearing as you grip the comforter on the bed, desperate to reach your climax. You’re just about to reach down between your legs to play with your clit when Harry not only picks his pace up but also reaches around you, two of his fingers starting the circling motions on the bundle of nerves, making your legs shake from the pleasure.

“Come on, baby. Cum for me, cum all over my cock,” he growls, railing you from behind without missing a beat.

“Harry!” you scream when he thrusts into you so harshly, your whole body rocking in the motion.

“Come on, angel. Cum for me,” he murmurs and leaning down he wraps his arms around you, bringing you up straight, your back pressing against his sweaty chest, his hands coming to cup your breasts as he keeps thrusting up into you, pushing you over the edge.

You moan and gasp and scream his name as your walls tighten around his length, riding out your bliss and it helps him reach his own high, his hot breath hitting the back of your neck and shoulder, grunting and cursing under his breath as he fills the condom.

As his thrusts come to a halt, he sinks into a sitting position, bringing you with him, you lean against him feeling like jelly as you’re still just trying to catch your breath. Harry peppers your shoulder with small kisses before you muster the energy to break the position and lie down on the bed.

“Towel is in the bathroom,” you tell him knowing that’s what he’ll look for as he stands from the bed and you point at the door that leads to the joined bathroom. Harry nods and pads his way in there, cleaning himself up before he returns with a small damp towel, doing the same for you. He drops it to the floor next to the bed before joining you, cradling you into his arms as you take a breather together.

One hand is on your shoulder, fingers dancing on the naked skin, the other one is holding your thigh that’s across his lap while your head is resting on his chest.

“You really thought I would backstab you like that?” he hums after a while, breaking the comfortable silence.

“You did the same,” you answer, lifting your head, resting your chin on his chest.

“Touché,” he chuckles, before leaning down he kisses you shortly. “So, if neither of us did it, then we have a quite major problem on our hands.”

“I know,” you hum. “That shit looks promising and they can easily ruin both of us.”

Harry stays silent for a little, but you can see the gears turning in his head. When his gaze snaps back at you, you know he has an idea.

“Unless… we join forces.” Your eyebrows arch as you stare back at him. “I know it’s a risky move, but this is the only way to stay on the top.”

“How much you want to be joined?”

“We could start with just one line, the men part designed by someone from me and the women by someone from you. And if it presents well we can just figure out where to go from there. Obviously, the men part would be sold by us and the women by you, but we could join the pages and direct users to each other’s sites in connection with the lines.”

“That could… actually work,” you nod shortly, thinking about the idea. It needs a lot of planning, but it could actually be a big hit if you do it right. “And you’re willing to partner with me?” you ask cheekily as you push yourself up into a sitting position, Harry doing the same.

“If you haven’t noticed, I’m willing to do about anything with you,” he chuckles, making you smile at his playful answer. “I hope you know I’m not talking about just business,” he then adds with a meaningful look.

“You are still so keen on this?” you sigh, tugging your hair behind your ear.

“Do you not like being with me?”

“I do, surprisingly,” you roll your eyes, making him laugh.

“Do you not like having sex with me?”

“I think the answer is pretty obvious to that,” you give him a look as he smirks back at you.

“Yeah, but I want to hear it.”

“I enjoy having sex with you, Harry,” you roll your eyes again, but he just kisses you short but hard before leaning back.

“So then why shouldn’t we date?”

“Because we are competitors?”

“We just agreed that we should join forces. We are partners now.”

“You are running a little ahead, Harry,” you cock an eyebrow at him. “I don’t know, I haven’t been in a relationship in ages. I probably suck at it at this point,” you shrug, but it’s just a lame excuse and you both know that. Leaning closer Harry smirks at you smugly.

“I have something else you can suck.” You smack his chest at his nasty remark, but can’t push a smile back. His hand finds the back of your head as he pulls you in for another kiss. “I want you, Y/N. I really do. You are all I think about even when you are an annoying piece of shit, getting under my skin. I still want you.”

“Wow, so romantic,” you chuckle shaking your head. “What if we can’t get over our differences in the business? That can easily poison any relationship.”

“Then we’ll have a lot of mind-blowing angry and makeup sex. Those are the best. We can put all our frustration into sex, I think that’s just perfect.”

“What are you, a horny teenager? Sex is all you can think about?” you chuckle.

“It is when I’m lying in a bed with you naked. You can’t blame me,” he grins smugly and you want to hate him, you want to hate him so badly, but you can’t. You want him just as much as he wants you.

“So… partners?” he prompts, tilting his head to the side with a sweet smile as he waits for your answer.

“Partners in business and life?”

“Mhm, that’s the plan,” he nods, his smile growing wider with each passing second.

“Alright,” you breathe out. “So… it’s not—All is fair in war and business?” you ask teasingly, using his own words from earlier.

“Just shut up and kiss me,” he laughs, pulling you in for another kiss.

Thank you for reading! Please like/reblog if you enjoyed!

[dollslayer]

Sweeter Endings

Sugar Daddy!Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Still reeling from the financial realities of losing your mother you turn to a lucrative website for help and get more than you could have bargained for.

W/C: 5,325

Warnings: Smut (no minors 18+ only), light D/S dynamics, brief mentions of alcohol consumption, unprotected sex, swearing

A/N: NO MINORS, I wrote this for @donutloverxo 's Sugary 4k Challenge (Congrats!!) I love sugar daddy AUs so I was really excited to write this!! If you like it then please like/reblog/comment I'm all ears! Also maybe check out my other stuff if you want! Cheers!

Main Masterlist

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The saying ‘desperate times call for desperate measures’ was truer than you’d ever imagined and you found out the hard way. Life had hit you hard last year. You had watched your mother succumb very quickly to cancer. A cold that just wouldn’t go away turned into a doctor’s visit turned into three months left to live. Having no one else in her life, the cost of her funeral and medical bills fell to you. The bills outweighing the inheritance you had no choice but to drop out of school.

One year later you were hanging on by threads to keep yourself off the streets without turning to a loan shark or selling yourself. Stocking shelves at a bougie grocery store in Soho by day and bartending in Tribeca by night had you working six days a week. What free time you had you were too exhausted to do anything with. Something had to give or you were going to collapse from the stress, you just didn’t know what.

A couple weeks ago you had been casually venting about how broke you were with a coworker when she jokingly suggested signing up for one of those Sugar Daddy sites. You laughed along with her but it sounded better than getting a third job. You had quietly asked one of your roommates to borrow their laptop saying you needed to look at job postings only half a lie, really and locked yourself in your room.

You were just gonna check out the website, maybe sign up and poke around, it didn’t mean you were committing to anything, just looking. You remembered first looking at the website once your shitty wifi loaded it, promising ‘beautiful and successful people making mutually beneficial connections’. You balked after reading that but you couldn’t look at any profiles without making one yourself so you had set to work.

After making your profile you hadn’t gotten any hits in about a week so you shrugged it off. You couldn’t keep hogging your roommate’s computer anyways so you set off back to work. Your days at the store wore on into endless nights at the bar and you wondered what other options you really had when you had no degree and no experience in any relevant field.

___

6 o’clock on a Thursday night, the typical after work crowd begins to roll in. The bar you work in is upscale, classy. Definitely trying to lure in the businessmen that worked in the area and their wallets. It annoyed you to deal with the same type of customers you did at the store all over again but with the high end crowd came good tips so you couldn't complain too much.

It was busier than usual when a group of men in suits walked in together asking for a booth. You saw a lot of business meetings take place over whiskey sours in this place so you didn’t think much of it. You tried your best to keep tending to your regulars when a pair from the group came over.

One of the men had deep brown eyes and a sly grin that when split gave you the perfect view of the gap between his teeth. He was confident but he had a kind look to him. His friend had dirty blond hair and a beard that clung to his perfect jawline and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t snuck a second look. You turned your back and continued filling orders to distract yourself when one of them cleared their throat behind you.

As you turned to face them you found it was the blond calling after you. His face held a hint of surprise but it was quickly replaced by a look of amusement as he smirked and one brow lifted, like he knew something you didn’t. He was like any other typical customer for you, professional and handsome, probably over-confident in himself. You returned his smirk and prepared your best charming banter. Time to earn those tips.

“Something to drink for you, gentleman?” You offered.

“We’d like a round of scotch for the table over there. You don’t mind bringing it over, do you sweetheart?” the brown-eyed man asked.

“Of course not” you answered. Pricks.

“Good girl” the blond said with a wink. Creep. A hot creep but still. Before you could ask he took his card out of his wallet and put it on the counter for the tab.

____

A round had come and passed, soon they’d asked for another but this time it was just the blond that approached you. You lifted your eyebrows in anticipation of an order.

“You here often?” he asked. Ugh, not even a good pick up line.

“Am I here at my job often?” You retorted with a playful smile.

The man’s shoulders shook as he chuckled. “Sorry you just uh, you look familiar that’s all. What’s your name?”

You supplied him with it and asked him if he wanted another round of scotch. He nodded.

“Smart girl, I’m Steve by the way.” He laid down his business card which you picked up with a look of challenging curiosity. Steve Rogers, CEO of Shield inc.

Oh. You didn’t recognize the name but you definitely knew the company. It felt like a quarter of their employees stopped in for a drink throughout the week and it was prominent enough of a company that you read about it weekly. Play it cool, these types want to feel like an every-man at the bar but still wanna feel important.

You raised your eyebrows again in recognition. “Nice to meet you, Steve, I’ll have your round right out.”

“Good Girl” he winked again at you. Okay so it’s hot, but he’s a total stranger and you don’t even know him. Stay on your game.

___

10 o’clock came around and things were thinning out slightly, regulars made their way out, awkward Tinder dates and rowdy young 20-somethings made their way in. The party of businessmen was still around but they were hopefully wrapping up after the 2 more rounds they’d had. Steve approached the bar once more and you preemptively picked up the bottle of scotch.

“Whoa, easy, girl! I’m here to pick up the tab” He said, taking out his wallet.

“What’s the name on the tab?” You decided to play dumb but based off the grin on his face he knew you were playing with him.

“Steve. Rogers.” He replied, his tone was stern but his eyes told you he was in on the joke.

You cashed him out and left him to sign his receipt so you could make more drinks. You saw him move in your peripheral and turned your head to see his face.

“Have a good night, sweetheart. I’ll be seein’ ya” he promised.

“Take care!” You smiled back.

A few minutes later you circled back to collect his receipt and found three $100 bills staring back at you. You blinked dumbly in disbelief, who the hell leaves a 200% tip? Looking around to see if Steve was still here he was nowhere to be found. You had no choice but to pocket the money.

____

Another week went by and left you wondering how much energy and concentration it would take for you to just evaporate, since that seemed easier than going to work today. Sadly still in solid form, you punched in at the store and stowed your things in your locker.

Your upscale customer base was a mostly pretentious and successful group of yuppies so even though you were grateful to not be on the streets you were constantly reminded of the professional success you couldn’t help but feel that you were missing out on. Stuck instead to listen to incessant whining ‘is this organic? I won’t eat it unless it’s organic’.

The upside of this job was that the time went by quickly because you always had so much to do. Plus with how monotonous the work was it was easy enough to zone out. So much so that you hadn’t heard someone calling your name and approaching you. A hand softly touching your shoulder snapped you into the present.

You looked up, startled to find a pair of blue eyes staring back into yours. You took a step back and processed who it was. “CEO guy?” Steve?

“‘CEO guy?’ I thought I recognized you, ‘barmaid’ or should I say… ‘stock girl?’” He joked using his fingers to make quotations.

Now that you thought about it, the store isn’t that far at all from the bar, it would make sense if he’s in the area. You smiled and tapped your nametag in response.

“I just came in on my lunch to grab a few groceries” looking down at his basket it held some protein powder, some eggs, and one lonely banana. “Clearly, I’m single. But you’d know that already, wouldn’t you?”

Your brows twinged together in confusion. What is that supposed to mean?

“Excuse me?”

He edged a little closer to you and lowered his voice “SeekingConnection.com?”

Your eyes widened in shock. The fucking Sugar Daddy site! I forgot about that! Surprise was quickly replaced with humiliation. You looked down and away as you felt your cheeks heat up.

“I don’t mean to embarrass you” Steve placated, “But I gotta say, I’m pretty hurt you never responded to me. I sent that message weeks ago and let’s just say I’m not used to rejection.” He kept his tone light, letting you know he wasn’t mad.

“I-I um, I’m sorry, I don’t have a computer and they don’t have an app, I was using my roommates’ computer and I guess I forgot about it…” You admitted.

Steve nodded in acknowledgement. Please say something to salvage this conversation. Please.

“Well,” Steve rummaged in his pocket for another business card. “You got a pen on you?”

You dug around in your apron and came up with one. Handing it to him you watched as he wrote on the back of the card. He held the card and the pen out to you.

“That’s my number, I’d ask for yours but I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable, you already look like you wanna sink through the floor” Not helping, but I do. You took them from him and tucked them away in the pocket of your apron.

“You do have a phone right?” You only glared at him in response. “Well, if you check your profile, you would’ve seen I asked you out to lunch, offer still stands. Just text me when you’re free”

Should I even say yes? I mean, the winking the other night was weird but he’s good looking and at least somewhat considerate. I mean, it’s not like I had any other intention when I signed up for that site. What the hell. right?

“I… usually work mid shifts so I don’t know if lunch is doable, they only give me half an hour but, maybe we could do coffee? I’ve got tomorrow off from the bar I could meet you” you suggested.

If Steve felt pity for you he hid it well behind the wide smile he made when you offered coffee instead.

“There’s a place around the corner from here, just up a block, you know it? I’m off tomorrow at 6, why don’t you meet me there?”

“Sounds like a plan.” He winked at you again and started walking away. What the hell just happened?

____

You did end up borrowing your roommate’s computer once again when you got home to look up Steve’s DM. Sure enough, there he had been in all his internet glory. ‘Steve, 33, CEO. likes: art, conversation, whiskey. Digging around further on his profile you found that he owned several houses here and in Europe, he had a dog that was cuter than he was, and that he was ‘Seeking deeper connection’. All of these things piqued your interest.

‘Hey, Doll. Saw your profile and I had to ask, what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this? Kidding, of course. But maybe you’d care to tell me your story over lunch? Your profile says we’re both in New York. - Steve’ Sent three weeks ago. Fuck.

You had texted him earlier to confirm, which is how you found yourself walking up the sidewalk towards the shop with a mind running rampant with nervous thoughts. What if he just wants to feel big about himself in comparison to me? What would I even really have to offer the relationship? A college dropout working two dead-end jobs with no social life. You needed to snap yourself out of it. You were just meeting for coffee doesn’t mean anything.

Pushing open the door you found Steve waving at you from a quiet corner. He was still in a suit, presumably coming from work himself. Even the buttons on his shirt looked expensive. You were wearing dirty jeans and a worn pair of work boots paired with a flannel. You couldn’t have looked more different if you tried.

“I waited for you to order,” He said. You smiled up at him, only now realizing how tall he was in comparison to you. He ushered you both towards the counter where you both placed your orders. You moved to take your wallet from your purse but he had already beat you there.

“Really? As if I’d let the lady pay, and on the first date no less?” He said playfully.

“Oh, so this is a date now, is it?” You kidded.

Steve shoved his hands in his pockets and gave you that boyish grin and a shrug. The pair of you made your way back to the table and waited for your drinks to be brought over.

“How was work?” You asked, “What exactly is it that your company does?”

“We offer security and surveillance software domestically as well as international. Stadiums, airports, other government buildings. Things of that nature. And work was fine, thank you for asking” Steve said with a genuine smile. “How was your day, doll?”

“Oh, my day was fine, more of the same but y’know,” You answered half-heartedly.

“You know, you never answered me, what’s a funny, pretty gal like you doing on a site like that?”

Embarrassment hit you again, this time maybe accompanied with a hint of shame. You were saved momentarily by your drinks being delivered. He seemed truly interested and since he was paying you supposed you owed him an answer.

“I was going to Columbia and I had a pretty good internship when my mom got diagnosed with cancer. She died three months later and since it was only always just the two of us I ended up footing the bill. I was on partial scholarship but between the hospital and the funeral I can’t really afford the rest of tuition on top of working for free so here I am” you explained, “Oh my god, I’m sorry I’m totally oversharing aren’t I? You probably don’t wanna hear about a bummer like this, sorry”

You tried to laugh to ease the tension you thought you’d created. Braving a look at Steve, he looked thoughtful and only a little bit like he pitied you. You could live with that.

“I’m really sorry about your mom, mine also got really sick before she died, I know it must’ve been hard. What were you in school for?”

___

You and Steve talked for hours, trading anecdotes of childhood and talking about each other’s interests. You had a similar sense in humour so you got on swimmingly. The evening seemed to be coming to a close as the night sky sent in through the window.

Being with Steve was probably the most relaxed you’d felt since before your mom was diagnosed. It became difficult to focus on anything but your financial situation and even though that’s what brought you here in the first place you had managed to forget all about it.

“So look, us getting together wasn’t exactly the most conventional on meet-cutes but to put it bluntly,” He said, “The CEO life makes it hard to meet real people and it gets kinda lonely, I mean, you saw my grocery basket” You both laughed at that. “You need money and I need company, I feel like we could help each other out. Whad’ya say? Think you could put up with me?”

You knew what this was but hearing it put so plainly was a little surprising. At least he was to the point.

“So if I said yes what does that mean, exactly?” you inquired.

“Well,” he started, “We take care of each other. Let me cover some of your bills at the very least, make it so you’d be comfortable quitting at least one of your jobs. And you’d keep me company, we go on dates, maybe you could come over, there’s the occasional work event or charity gala I’d need you on my arm for. Thoughts?”

God I can’t even imagine what it’s like to work only one job anymore. Maybe I could even save up and go back to school. He’s cute and he seems sensible, why not?

“Could we maybe take things slow? What you describe is something I’m down for but I don’t want to make myself completely dependent on you. But I’d love to be there for you, and I have to admit, the thought of only working one full time job is pretty crazy to me” You laughed.

Steve swallowed and placed one of his large, warm hands over yours.

“I can do things the old fashioned way, if that’s what you’d feel good with. I gotta say though, with looks like that it’s not gonna be easy” he jested.

You smiled shyly and looked away. You both stood to leave and he held the door open for you.

“I’ve already got your number from when you texted me earlier but I’ll talk to my assistant about my schedule and maybe I could take you out to dinner this weekend?”

“I um, I’d really like that. It’s a date” You stated.

“Oh, so you think this is a date now?” He jested.

You lightly punched him in the arm and he took the opportunity to pull you closer to him. You looked up to find his face inches from yours. You could smell his aftershave and his deep voice gave you goosebumps when he spoke next.

“I kinda want to kiss you goodnight, would that be okay?”

You could only nod as he shut his eyes and closed in. Your lips met in one perfect, chaste kiss. You sighed and leaned into his hand as it briefly cupped your face.

You broke apart and made promises to see each other soon. You felt like you could’ve floated home as you boarded the subway, caught up in the swarm of newly forming feelings.

_____

You sat in the break room when your phone buzzed to life, ‘Saturday at 7?’

You were about to type out a yes when you forgot you worked closing at the bar. Your thumbs moved quickly to tap out the reply ‘Working, sorry :/ the pitfalls of bartending. Sunday at 7?’

You were nervous telling him no and asking to change plans. You hated not being able to make things work but you only just met the man and the weekend tips were killer, it’s not like you could turn the shift down.

‘Ah yes, almost forgot. Sunday works too, I’ll text you the details. What’s your address? I’ll pick you up’

Oh, God. Steve can’t see my building! His cufflinks probably cost more than my rent!

‘I’ll just meet you there, don’t worry about it’

‘Not a chance, doll. Just tell me where and I’ll come get you’

You let out a worried sigh but knew you had to let it go. You sent him your address and went back to work.

____

Saturday was maybe the longest day in your entire week, in fact you loathed it. Mornings at the store followed by running immediately to the bar. Last call in New York was 4am so it’s a good thing you didn’t try to make brunch plans with Steve for Sunday. But ultimately both your shifts passed without major incident and now it was Sunday and you tried to ready yourself the best you could.

The place Steve mentioned was fancy, you knew that much from a quick search. Panicking instantly upon realizing you don’t really have any nice clothes you turned to your most fashionable roommate for help. She loaned you a cocktail dress that was revealing enough to draw interest without giving everything away. You just hoped Steve would like it.

‘Downstairs, doll. Silver BMW’ you exhaled. Hoo boy, here we go.

____

Steve handed his keys to the valet and rushed around to open your door for you. You held his hand and you clambered onto the sidewalk in your heels. His warm hand on the small of your back as he steered you towards the doors was a comforting weight.

Dinner has been lovely so far, he chose a place that wasn’t completely white-glove but was upscale enough to make you feel only a little underdressed.

You joked back and forth with him over the course of the meal, talked about your lives, and even found out you both have a guilty pleasure for cheesy rom-coms. It wasn’t until dessert and your third glass of wine came that you realized how much time had passed. You frowned slightly thinking of the early morning ahead of you followed by a long night at the bar.

“What’s wrong, doll?”

“Oh, nothing I just didn’t realize how late it was, I’ve got both jobs tomorrow it’ll just be a long day that’s all” you tried to wave it off but Steve frowned in response.

“Quit the bar” he stated.

“What?”

“Quit the bar. This is your card, I’ve already loaded $3000 on there. Put me in touch with your landlord and I’ll get you taken care of.” He slid the card across the table to you. Your name printed on the front. This got real very quickly.

“Steve, that’s.” You were in shock, a loss for words almost “that’s too much, I don’t know what to say.” You felt embarrassed taking the money. You knew that was the essence of your arrangement but actually taking his money had you feeling uneasy.

“Honey, this is what I’m here for. Let me take care of you. Give up your late nights. I wanna take you out on the weekends and you’ll need to be available for events. You can stay at the store if you want but quit the bar, you don’t need it.”

You took a deep sigh. He did say he wanted you to be comfortable quitting one of your jobs; it's just making the change that scares you. But something about Steve felt safe so you nodded and looked up to him.

“I’ll put in my two weeks”

“Good girl” he patted your knee and you involuntarily clenched your thighs. He smirked at that but let it go.

____

A few months had come and gone since that night and your time with Steve had been great. Only working the one job gave you so much more free time. You'd spent a good chunk of it just trying to form a normal sleep schedule but all the time you spent with Steve made it difficult. Not that you minded especially since your allowance was monthly but he’d showered you with gifts here and there.

They started off small, perfume, chocolates and flowers, or a simple pair of white gold hoops that reminded him of you. They gradually became pricier and more elaborate. You’d felt guilty accepting it all at first but he was insistent you deserve the best. He had even mentioned you moving out maybe finding a better place but you reminded him you needed to go slow.

He’d also been nothing short of a gentleman. Out in public at least, you’d learned the hard way that he was an absolute animal in bed. It was becoming increasingly difficult to keep your hands off of him.

Something you had appreciated about Steve is that he never made you feel bad or less than for being broke. Never held his money over your head like leverage. You’d felt equal to him in all aspects, understanding you had just as much say as he did.

Still, there was a small nagging voice in the back of your head that reminded you Steve is not your boyfriend. This isn't a relationship and he's looking to get something out of just like you are. But if you were being honest you were catching feelings, it was hard not to when the man was giving you the fantasy. You decided to push that voice aside whenever it came up and let yourself be swept away. Maybe that would bite you in the ass but for now you were happy.

____

You were buzzed into Steve’s building and on the elevator ride up to his penthouse your phone buzzed. ‘I have to make a quick call- I’ve got a present waiting for you in the living room.’ You couldn’t help but feel giddy.

The doors opened and Steve was nowhere in sight but as you entered the living room a bag from Chanel and the Apple Store sat on the table. Oh god, what this time? I swear this man is too much.

You opened the smaller bag from Chanel first and found a beautiful black and white evening bag. It was sleek and simple, very much to your tastes. You were nervous to open the Apple bag, Steve always went overboard. Shakily removing the paper you pulled out the slim case in disbelief. A MacBook Air and a pair of AirPod Pros. The man well and truly spoiled you.

“You said you didn’t have a computer.” His voice came from behind you and startled you.

“Steve, this is too much. You’re too much.” You swung your arms around his neck and kissed him.

“Nothin’s too much for you, doll.” He kissed the top of your head.

“Think you could take a couple days off of work? I just got off the phone and confirmed plans for my house in Nice.”

A trip? France?? Oh my god. How is this my life? You felt so overwhelmed that you grabbed Steve by the collar and brought his face down to meet you in a kiss. His tongue swiped your lips and you granted him entrance. Moaning into his mouth your hands traveled up into his hair, pulling softly and coaxing a groan out of him.

He guided you to sit on the couch and brought you down into his lap. You ground down onto him and felt his hard-on through his slacks. Your hand moved slowly to undo the buttons of his shirt as he kissed down your jaw towards your neck. You sighed softly when he found your sweet spot and started sucking.

He helped you take off his shirt while you got started on his belt and undid his pants. He lifted himself off the couch slightly to move them down to his knees, taking his briefs with them. His cock stood proud and an angry red, leaking at the tip.

“I wanna ride you, I can’t wait.” You pouted as you writhed against him in need.

Steve tutted at you “that’s no way to get what you want. Ask me nicely, baby. Beg to ride my cock,”

You ground down even harder and whined. “Please, sir, please let me ride your cock. I need to feel you, I can’t wait any longer please.”

“Good Girl” Steve's hands flipped up your skirt and found your panties, ripping them to shreds. They were La Perla and had cost a pretty penny but he didn’t care.

He lined himself up and brought you down harshly gripping your hips. You moaned loudly in surprise and satisfaction and wasted no time moving back and forth. Steve made you feel so close and connected to him whenever he fucked you but he still made you feel sordid and dirty. You couldn’t get enough of the feeling, you’d gladly chase it.

His eyes were hooded as watched you chase your own pleasure and giving him some in return. His hands kneaded your ass and smacked it just to get a gasp out of you. He grabbed the back of your head and brought you in for a searing kiss that was all teeth and tongue. He’d nip at you and lick the pain away.

His hips met yours, finding your rhythm and speeding you both up when he gripped your hips.

“Can’t wait to have me, you had to fuck me on the couch huh?” Steve panted, “my dirty girl. So fuckin’ gorgeous.”

You put your forehead against his and went harder, pushing your clit to grind against the muscles of his abs.

“Only yours, sir.” Your orgasm was building. Steve was a pretty relaxed dom but you still needed permission.

“Sir, please let me cum I can’t wait any longer” you tried your best to slow your movements a bit.

“I think you can hold it baby, I wanna enjoy you a little longer”.

You could only whine in response and tried to slow your pace but his grip on your hips and his own movements pushed you further and further towards the edge. You tried to squirm out of his grasp but his hands only tightened. It felt like forever until Steve finally gave you permission.

“Go on baby, cum for me you earned it. Fuck your self on my cock and cum all over me”

Your movements were frantic, desperate to chase your orgasm when finally the perfect angle of his cock inside you and your clit against him set you free. You cried out above him and dug your nails in deep.

Steve held you firmly in place and started slamming into you from below, finally letting himself think about cumming. All you could do was hold on for mercy. Moments later he brought you down onto him one final slam as he came inside of you with a cry.

The only sound in the room was both of you trying to catch your breath. You sighed again and collapsed against him, nuzzling your face into his neck. He kissed the side of your face and let you make yourself at home while he caressed your back.

____

One shower and two more orgasms later you were both clean and made your way to the kitchen. Steve was gathering the ingredients for dinner when you hugged him from behind. Your head resting against his back. Steve twisted around and hugged you in full. You both stayed like that for a moment until you looked up at him.

You were so content. Moments like this where you were just domestic were some of the best between you. It wasn’t about money or material, it was just the two of you making dinner and enjoying each other, no barriers.

“Are you really going to take me to France?” Your voice came out muffled against his chest.

“Of course, doll. After dinner I want you to use your new laptop to buy some outfits for the trip. I left my card in your new purse.”

You lifted onto your tiptoes and kissed his nose.

“You really do think of everything, don’t you?”

“What can I say? I’m a planner” he retorted.

You didn’t know it yet but Steve was going to ask you to become official while you were there. He wasn’t worried in the slightest. In fact he’d never been so sure about something in his life.

[genshin-impact-writings]

hi there! may i request small frappé with pumpkin spice and whipped cream? childe x reader ty! this is my first time requesting so i hope i didnt do this wrong!!

Heya, dear anon! Thank you so much for your request, it was perfect and i had a lot of fun writing this. So, here's your drink: A small frappé with pumpkin spice and whipped cream on top. Hope you enjoy! <3 (Reblogs are very much appreciated.)

Prompts: fluff, fake dating, “You’re not wearing that, are you?” + “I don’t think I can do this anymore.” (400 followers event: JJ's coffee shop)

Be mine – Tartaglia x gn!reader (fake dating!AU, fluff)

“You’re not wearing that, are you?”

With furrowed brows, you looked at Tartaglia. He was standing behind you, watching you as you turned in front of the mirror to get a better look at your outfit. “Why?” you asked, a hint of confusion echoing in your voice. “Is there something wrong? Is it too much?”

“No,” he replied, and a smile flashed over his face as he stepped closer and wrapped his arms around your waist from behind. Resting his chin on your shoulder, he added, “It makes you look even prettier than you already are, to be honest. Everyone’s going to stare at you.” He nuzzled your cheek. “And I’m not sure if I like that thought.”

You felt your face growing hot at his words and tried to wriggle out of his hug. “Stop that,” you said with a sheepish grin. “No one’s here, there’s no need to act like we’re a couple.”

Tartaglia hummed in response and took a step back after releasing you from his hug, although he couldn’t deny that your words hurt him more than he liked to admit. He knew that you were right – the two of you weren’t really dating, after all. It was just a show you put on to stop your friends from constantly pestering you to finally find yourself a boyfriend. When you had asked him to pretend to be in a relationship with you for a while, Tartaglia hadn’t hesitated to help you. Up to this day, he hadn’t regretted it – well, a bit, maybe.

At first, it had been nothing more than a game and a secret the two of you shared – something that never failed to make you laugh when your friends weren’t around. But as the weeks passed, things had… changed. At least for him.

He had no idea how you felt about the whole situation, though. If you still thought about him as a friend or if his constant flirting did have some kind of effect on you… if you maybe had developed real, genuine feelings for him too. It was foolish, he knew that, but he couldn’t help but hold on to that thought whenever he saw you.

You watched him in the mirror, the way he stared into the distance absent-mindedly, his pretty blue eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. He often had that look on his face when he thought you weren’t noticing it but whenever you brought the topic up, he always told you that you were imagining things before he quickly changed the subject.

That didn’t stop you from asking, though. You turned around to face him, your left arm slightly outstretched, almost as if your body couldn’t decide if you wanted to reach out for him or not. “Hey,” you said, your voice a lot softer than you initially intended. “What’s wrong?”

It was fascinating to see how his facial expression changed almost immediately, how he put on a smile that could have fooled anyone but you. “I was just thinking that you’re right,” he replied and shrugged. “About us, I mean. We’re not a couple when your friends aren’t around, and I’m sorry if my actions made you feel uncomfortable.”

You let out a surprised laugh. “What made you think I was uncomfortable? I just – I don’t know, I guess I wanted to say that there’s no need to pretend anything when we’re alone. It’s not necessary and I don’t want to bother you. Um…” You shook your head, annoyed by your own stammering. “You’re not making me uncomfortable. That’s what I was trying to say.”

You watched as his smile slowly transformed into a more honest one, and suddenly, there was this warm feeling welling up inside you again. It had happened a few times already, mostly when he looked at you like you were the most precious thing he had ever seen or when he hugged you like he had done earlier but you had never bothered yourself with thinking about it. After all, he only acted like that because you had an agreement with each other, not because he actually cared about you… at least not in that way.

And it was fine, although you couldn’t deny that a part of you had always wondered what it would be like to be in a real relationship with him. He could be reckless and even kind of belligerent sometimes, yes, but when he was with you, he seemed to be a completely different man – caring and considerate, always trying his best to make you smile when you were upset or sad. He was your best friend, the one you could always rely on, no matter what happened.

And sometimes, just like in this moment, he was the one who made your heart skip a beat without even knowing it.

“We should go,” you said, shaking your head once again to get rid of the confusing thoughts that had come to your mind. “The others are probably already waiting for us.”

*

On your way back home, you couldn’t stop thinking about something your best friend had said to you. Sometimes, you couldn’t help but wonder if they secretly knew that your relationship with Tartaglia wasn’t real but since you didn’t want to risk anything, you had decided to let sleeping dogs lie a while ago. Maybe they didn’t know it, anyway but something about the way they looked at you when they told you how happy you could be to have someone like him in your life, had suggested that they were well aware of your fake dating. “If you weren’t so cute together, I would be so jealous, really,” they had added with a grin, darting a glance at Tartaglia who had been joking around with one of your other friends at this point. “He’s awesome, (Y/N). Don’t mess this up, okay?”

The words were still echoing in your mind. How could you mess it up if everything wasn’t even real? Of course you knew what they were trying to say but at some point, you would have no other choice than messing everything up because you either had to tell your friends toe truth or act like you and Tartaglia had broken up. You couldn’t force him to play along forever, after all.

Sooner or later, he would find someone and fall in love for real, and then you would have to let him go, no matter how awful it felt to imagine him being with someone else. The thought hurt – and at the same time, it made you absolutely furious.

You stopped in your tracks, confused by the sudden anger that welled up inside of you when you thought about Tartaglia’s hypothetical future partner. Just because he would start to date someone, you definitely weren’t going to lose him; he would still be your friend. The only thing that would change was the fact that he would no longer act like he was head over heels in love with you.

And that was the moment it finally hit you.

The problem wasn’t that you were afraid of losing your friend. The problem was that you didn’t want him to fall in love with someone else – you wanted him to love you, actually love you, not just pretending like he had done for the past couple of weeks.

It was absolutely crazy, you knew that. He had agreed to fool your friends with you for a while because he thought it sounded like fun but actually developing feelings for each other hadn’t been a part of the deal. It had been completely out of the question, even.

Heck, why did everything have to become so complicated all of a sudden? Why did you have to fall for him? Everything he did, every hug, every kiss… all of that was part of your charade. He didn’t do it because he had romantic feelings for you.

Right?

You couldn’t help but remember the scene from earlier when he had hugged you in front of the mirror, implying that he’d be jealous if someone else would start to admire you. There had been no one around to see; he didn’t have to talk to you like that – and still, he had done it. And he had hugged you in a way that still made your heart beat faster.

Damn it. You needed to talk to him.

You needed to talk to him right now.

You turned around and rushed back to the restaurant where you had parted ways maybe fifteen minutes ago. He wasn’t there anymore but you knew that he sometimes went for a walk near the docks because he liked to listen to the sound of the waves, so you decided to look for him there.

It wasn’t too hard to find him – and as he spotted you approaching him through the crowd, a soft smile flashed over his face. “Did you miss me already?” he asked in a teasing tone that usually would have caused you to roll your eyes. But right now, it just made you feel more insecure.

“I need to talk to you,” you said. Admittedly, it wasn’t the smoothest conversation starter but you were way too nervous to bother yourself with being particularly eloquent in that moment. “About us.”

He raised his eyebrows. “About us?”

“About the whole situation,” you explained. “The relationship thing we have going on. I – I don’t think I can do this anymore. It just… it just feels wrong to pretend like we are dating when we’re not. I don’t know why I came up with that idea in the first place, it’s so stupid and I’m sorry for dragging you into this and-“

“Whoa, slow down, (Y/N),” Tartaglia interrupted you and furrowed his brows. “What are you talking about? I told you many times that I don’t mind helping you. I know your friends, I realize that they can be quite annoying when it comes to… well, your love life. You’re not taking advantage of me if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

You buried your face in your hands for a few seconds and let out a frustrated groan. “That’s not the reason I want to end this, Tartaglia,” you said. “I want to end it because it just feels wrong. We don’t love each other – we shouldn’t pretend that we do. It’s… it’s just not right.”

“Who says I don’t love you?”

You had expected every answer from him but not something like this. With wide eyes, you stared at him, searching his face for a sign that he was joking, that he was trying to fluster you like he already did a million times but his expression was unusually serious. “What?”

“Who says I don’t love you?” he repeated patiently. “You said it’s not right to pretend that we love each other. But the truth is that I’m not pretending anymore. So, it’s not wrong, is it?”

You couldn’t reply. Your thoughts were racing as your brain tried to comprehend what he had just told you but you felt like you weren’t able to think straight at all. Not when all you could think about was that he loved you.

Tartaglia stepped closer, gently cupping your face with his hands. “I love you,” he said, the tone of his voice so earnest that it send a shiver down your spine. “And I think that you may love me too, so if that’s the case could you please say something? Or – I don’t know, blink twice, maybe?”

“Shut up,” you said, finally snapping out of your state of shock. “Shut up and kiss me.”

Taglist: @blissmal, @aimicoos

[sorry-i-ship-drarry]

16. Sinful dreams

Prompt used- massaging them | WARNING- implied smut | shout-out to everyone reblogging and commenting on these. Ps. Sorry for no update yesterday ( it's hard to keep up )

" well hello the man who thinks it's his house" harry gave Draco a grin who had presumably came to his house while he was out shopping using the spare key Harry had given him.

" I needed a change of space. Did you bring my biscuits ?" He asked

" I would go shopping and not bring your biscuits, you really are Dim witted " Harry placed his palms on the kitchen top before he took out Draco's biscuits and threw it at Draco in the living room who immediately caught before it would've fallen to the ground and get cracked up.

" what are you even working on ?" Harry asked as he started putting things into the refrigerator.

" just grading some papers " Draco replied opening the packet of biscuit and eating it slowly " still as delicious as ever " he groaned. Chuckling Harry turned to see Draco eating his biscuits, he seemed like Someone who had just been given his Christmas gift.

" I thought you already did them ?" Harry asked

" well turned out the question I had basically wronged of every student was infact right, I was the one who made a careless mistake in the question paper, so now I have to recheck every paper and grade them over again " he sighed as he simultaneously went back to grading his papers

" sometimes you work harder than I do " Harry gave a light laugh as he got his juice box and went into the living room to sit with Draco.

" well being a professor is hard. You should see the answers sometimes. They're worse than yours " Draco groaned changing the answer sheet.

" hey, I wasn't that bad. I just didn't like potions because of snape " Harry defended himself as he watched Draco grade the papers. He randomly picked one of the Answer sheet of a kid named ken wood, chuckling almost immediately after reading the answer

" I remember I wrote the exact same answer once and it turned out to be surprisingly right which I see you've crossed at "

" what?" Draco huffed as he took the sheet from Harry, Peering over the answer and as if upon realising his mistake, sighing he corrected the answer and grade all over.

" you do work hard " Harry's Voice echoed as he went into th bedroom.

" you've got no idea Harry, if only one day you accept that job at school, you'd understand " Draco voice echoed as well from where Harry heard it.

He soon came back in the living room carrying his guitar and sitting down next to Draco's feet, tuning it instantly.

" no joke honestly, I am thinking over it. I do enjoy working in the Muggle world but sometimes i just feel like it's better being really who you are and being with people of your sort " Harry explained

" well Ms. McGonagall would be very glad to have you " he replied.

" you're gonna play ?" Draco asked as he finally noticed Harry had set his hands to play

" you don't want me to ?" Harry asked looking up at Draco

" yes please, I will kill myself if I have to do more of these with no source of enjoyment " Draco rolled his eyes..

Smiling Harry started to play lightly. When after the war Harry set out on his path to discover himself and trying out new things, he had instantly fallen in love with playing guitar. It took a great deal of practice but Harry had successfully learned how to play it last. Often he plays for his friends if they ever go out on a trip or if they're stressed out and he had played on a bunch of their bonfire nights. For Draco it had always worked out pretty greatly. He loved listening to harry play, he played it to so whimsically that he mostly found himself lost in the tunes and just hearing Harry hum along as he played. It was soothing and mildly attractive to Draco, not that he's ever going to tell Harry that but he liked to imagine that he already knew and that was why he used to play it more attractively each time.

The thing was Harry never really realised if he ever started to sing lightly along playing or humming, Draco never pointed. So when Harry was lightly humming and singing to the song, Draco found it much easier to grade his paper more fastly and without wanting to kill himself however in between he had groaned because of craning his neck downward and harry immediately took notice of it.

" what happened ?" He asked concerned putting away his guitar.

" nothing, just my neck hurts now from all the looking down just like I have to look down on you " even in slight he hadn't missed the opportunity to tease Harry who flipped him off.

" here, let me massage " Harry got up from the floor and went behind to sit over the edge of the couch, his feets alongside Draco's body.

" you sure, you know- ooh " he immediately moaned in relief as Harry started massaging the bottom of his neck.

" better ?" Harry asked

" much better " Draco mumbled as he closed his eyes and let his head fall back a little enjoying Harry's hands over his neck.

" you overwork yourself Draco " Harry complained knowing Draco, he probably had time but still tries to do everything beforehand

Draco hummed in response. It soon became ritual between them for Harry to give him massages whenever he was tired or very much worked out and harry happily complied. It was only during one Massage when everything became weird, Harry was simply giving Draco a massage when he had accidentally moaned loudly when Harry has massaged a specific spot on his back. Assuming that none of them heard it, Harry resumed giving him a massage when he elicited the same moan out of Draco and suddenly it became too much for Harry to go on and had to immediately stop Because of the sudden sensation going down south.

" Why'd you stop ?" Draco asked embarrassed

" oh nothing, I - I just need to use the restroom " Harry said as he not so subtly got up from behind Draco and ran for the bathroom to cool down but nothing really worked. Hearing Draco's moan was like a cardinal sin and harry had happily became a sinner. His voice rang over and over in his head which only troubled everything. All he could think about was how beautiful his moan had sounded and how in many more sinning ways he could elicit the same moan. Inappropriately thinking about Draco only worsened everything because the images he had thought about Before of Draco now had a sound and it only turned him on more and more.

Harry was leaned against the kitchen sink waiting for his hard on to go away when there was a knock on the door. He must've been in there for longer than Draco could've anticipated because now he was concerned about Harry.

" is everything alright, Harry?"

" yeah, ev- everything's fine " everything was not absolutely fine, how voice sounded much more strained and he was fighting urge to shove his hands down his pants for relief

" you don't sound so fine, open the door Harry " Draco commanded from the other side of the door

" you go, I'll be out in a few" Harry leaned furthermore onto the sink, almost palming over his jeans

" I'll break the door open if you don't open it right now, I'm giving you 3 seconds "

" 1"

" 2 "

" 3 - I'm openi-"

Huffing Harry opened the door " what ?"

" nothing-oh" Draco eyes widened as his eyes fell over Harry's prominent bulge. They remained in a moment of silence where Harry looked anywhere but Draco's face while Draco found it hard to resist to not stare at Harry's pants.

" i- I don't know how it happened- think you moaned and I've just have had pretty off days and somehow- nmph" it was too late for Harry to continue that sentence since Draco had shoved harry inside the bathroom, pining against the sink and kissing him over the lips. One of his hands making its way under Harry's shirt while the other one enclosing him between him and the sink. Travelling his hands on Draco's neck he made the kiss more heated and rough. It was beyond anything Harry could've ever imagined Draco's soft lips could've done but once his lips were against Harry's, it had aroused a wild sensation in him to have him right here and right then. The kiss became more sloppier with each second, not hurriedly but am urgency to discover what else he could do. The hand pressed against Harry's chest under his shirt was exploring the deeper depths of his chest and slowly moving downwards, Which continuously made Harry release moans he had only thought he could produce with a man. As if the heat was unbearable between them, Draco separated for air and travelled from Harry's lips down to his jawline, pressing small kisses before he has finally reached his neck and pressed warm kisses.

" ar- fuck - you sure ?" Harry moaned as Draco resumed kissing and licking over Harry's neck. His grip on Draco's neck had travelled into his hair and grasping enough to make him lose his control.

" I've always wanted you Harry " Draco moaned in his ear. He would've collapsed on the ground if he wasn't pressed against by Draco's body. Biting his lip he suppressed his desperate moans only for a few seconds until he found it hard to resist when he had managed to kiss Harry's sweet spot and initiated giving him a hickey. Losing control Harry rutted softly against Draco in a desperate attempt to gain any sort of friction for relief which made both of the men's moan in pure ecstacy of the moment and deepening kisses.

" you want to move to bed ?" Draco asked as he went back to kissing Harry's lips.

" thought you'd never asked " Harry mumbled against his lips and held onto Draco's neck, wrapping his legs around his body as Draco placed his hands under his thigh and carried them onto the bed and resumed kissing each other, losing one article of clothing one by one until none were left.

It was the night that had officially ruined their friendship, taking things to next level , doing things to each other they had only dreamt off but who would've known that their dreams of having the other men pressed against the bed, desperately moaning their name would've come true.

Requests open

I couldn't come up with any better idea for this prompt. Sorry if it seemed rushed.

Day 15- nobody can ever be you | Day 17- their own song

[softsakusas]

Playfully Yours

ship: atsumu x f! reader

genre: angst??

A/N: proofread??nope, well maybe a little. ahhhh was not expecting this to belong cause I usually write only abt 500 of 600 something words. I hope everyone of you likes it. reblogs are also and very much appreciated.

More stories here

Gosh. Oh my gosh, out of all the people you had to fall it had to be him. It was as if your memories were hazy, not remembering anything on how you were able to fall for him, it was just there for some reason. It felt like a bucket of cold water was splashed on you, the sudden realization of those feelings made your mind go crazy.

The words “I like him” continue to echo in your mind, yelping and repeating those words startled your group of friends which is mostly girls. Looking at you as if you were crazy, with wide eyes you looked at them and repeated the words again.

With confused stares and some questioning looks as if it was asking to continue on what you suddenly stated.

Without hesitating, you repeated it again continuing with “Not Suna, but him, I don’t why but I suddenly like him for no reason”, replying back to what you were saying, one of your friends, Aika asked who’s the “him” that you keep on babbling about.

With wide eyes and hesitation placed on your voice you stated his name, which is “Atsumu”.

Giving you surprised looks, then proceeding to ask questions whether or not you were serious about it.

Sitting back down, hands on both sides of your head while shaking your head, you then said “I don’t know how, when, what, but I just suddenly did. It was a shock for me, I did not expect anything like just how? I must be an insane one. I’ve known him for like...I don’t know, 5 years now since middle school and this is the first time that I just noticed it. Though it slightly weirds me out just thinking about it”

Looking at each other, Emiko, the smartest out of all you, pats your back then reassuring that sometimes we can’t help what we feel and that it also sometimes eve ourself surprises us, there are things that we don’t truly know on how they were formed and that's alright but our curiosity sometimes gets the best of us continuing with how you shouldn’t let him know or show that you like him and that it's better to tell them about it rather than keeping it to yourself oy it'll get worse or become an even deeper feeling than what you’ll expect.

Giving her a thankful look and agreeing that you will because you don’t really not know what to do about it and because you do not wanna ruin your friendship with him too.

Suddenly, the bell rings, reminding students to go back to their respective class for the time of the day, it not only worried you but it also freaked you out a little remembering that Atsumu was your classmate and worse is the you remembered that he always sits next to you along with his twin and Suna.

So for the rest of the class and remaining day sitting next to him, you remained as if nothing was different and continued on ignoring your feelings, with your mind not helping and constantly reminding you about it. Never in your life you’ve wanted to be buried ten feet underground but right now was the moment you keep on thinking about.

The whole class for the day ended, with the second year trio cleaning up their things, so that they could go straight to their afternoon practice. When suddenly, just as you were about to leave the classroom, Atsumu suddenly called you stating that you forgot your science notebook on top of your desk.

It was because you were in a rush, not wanting to face him yet and also wanting to spend the time alone thinking about your feelings for him.

Breathing deep before turning back to him and acting as if nothing happened, you grab your notebook from him, only looking at his face for a short moment of time then proceeding to thank him.

So the next few days, you continued to act the same and treated him the same while your feelings for him continue to bloom for him just from the small little things he does, like how he continues to buy you drinks after lunch as he does normally.

But, you don’t want to confess to him knowing the reputation that he upholds, despite being a star player of the school. He was also known as a heartbreaker, rejecting confessions left and right, so it really doesn’t help at all with what you were planning to do.

With the result of being friends with him, it is also a fact that whenever you are with Atsumu, you can’t help but feel small from the glares of some of the girls that Atsumu has rejected.

As weeks and months pass by, your feelings continue to grow and have become obvious to everyone and especially him. But he acts as though it didn’t exist.

Suddenly one day, he started acting differently towards you, acting more gentlemanly than he used to towards you and it truly didn’t help you. With your friends giving you looks whenever he does something for you at lunch which is surprisingly weird for him to do, his twin and Suna giving him confusing looks whenever he does it.

So the next few days, with your confuse self, asking Osamu and Suna on how and why is he doing all this and that to her, without even looking at her in the eyes,with heads turn to the side, replying at her saying that they don’t know a thing about it despite knowing in their heads that they do.

So it was a shock to her when one of her friends told her that Atsumu liked her back, her brain suddenly short-circuited from that statement. Then replying a huh, her looks giving her a friend a a mix of surprise and confused look while she feels her cheeks slightly heating up at the thought of Atsumu liking her back.

Imagine her surprise when Atsumu suddenly acts more lovey-dovey towards her, getting flustered at the little things he does like putting his head on her class at class, which she tried to act as if it was just normal.

Their teachers looked at them whenever they were together. To the perspective outside both of them, it would look as if both had been together for a long time. Things like this continue for weeks and it kinda made her happy about it, forget kinda IT really made her so happy with it.

As those days continued, her love for him also grew deeper but not that deep enough yet.

When suddenly one her closest friends, who was with Atsumu at some party of someone she didn’t know revealed something that one thing she didn’t really expect, it was the revelation on how Atsumu was just playing around with her and that he didn’t really feel an ounce of romantic feelings for her and it was amusing to watch her get flustered around him just from the things he does.

She suddenly felt like someone knocked out and punched her chest. She needed to take a lot of breath, her eyes started to water from it and sobs waiting to be cried out.

Suddenly falling back on her chair, tears falling like how the grey clouds cry on a rainy day. With her friend rushing next to her, in order to comfort her then continue on talking “I truly didn’t expect him to do that, so imagine my surprise when he said that at the party, I thought that he was joking especially on how the two of you are really close.

And it made me wanna punch him in the face by how smug he looked when he said those words.” As she continues on crying she can’t help but remember her memories with him for the past weeks, which only made her cry harder and made he sobs louder. Though it was a good thing that both of them were alone in the park, no people were on sight.

As the wind continued to blow, so did she finally calm down. Looking back at her then proceeding to state that she needs to go home and that she wants to be alone for a while reassuring that she won’t do anything stupid. So on her walk home with her head down, fixing herself up so that her parents won’t ask any questions about it.

As she arrives in her room, laying on her bed, contemplating on what to do the next day when he sees him. Listening to music and also reading, she acknowledges herself and also keeps strong and remembers her words in the past, “Just because a boy doesn’t like you, doesn’t mean you are unworthy. But it will help you realize that you have a lot more worth and that chasing after that person will give you a lesson and teach you a lot more on how to not trust people like him. Rather than regretting liking or loving them, it's better to be thankful for the experience and that you were able to know their true colors.”

The next day and weeks you acted as though both of you were back to being friends and that any of it didn’t happen, it was hard but it kinda made you feel a lot better after knowing it. Though the friendship that both of you had in the past was not the same as it was now and this continued on.

© of megumiisee

[snowdice]

Big Bang (Sort of) Editing Story [Day 66]

I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag proofread stories. I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29

It’s editing time for me because I have not edited in way too long. I am so behind on the Study Fic and this one. Oof. Also I should do some blog organization maybe.

Chapter 30

After lunch, Patton and Logan took Virgil out to the garden to walk around. They let Virgil lead them around wherever he wanted to go in the garden. A bunch more flowers had died since the last time they’d been out here, and Patton felt sad despite having never felt very sad about that sort of thing before. But, Virgil seemed to really like the flower he’d found last time, so Patton thought he was probably sad on the boy’s behalf.

Of course, Patton thought, perking up, eventually it would be spring, and Virgil could get to not only see some flowers but all of the flowers as they grew. Patton couldn’t wait to see him amongst the garden then.

Virgil took them wandering through the orchard for a while, but most of the trees had been stripped of their fruits and the leaves were beginning to fall off some. They ended up in the vegetable garden after a bit, and Virgil finally seemed to decide on a direction instead of just ambling about.

A few seconds after Patton noticed Virgil seemingly decide on a destination, Patton noticed Mr. Deknis kneeling on the ground a few feet away. Had… had Virgil been looking for him? Patton wondered. That was adorable.

Mr. Deknis looked up as they approached and smiled at them.

“Hello, Mr. Deknis,” Patton said as they came closer.

“Hello you three,” Mr. Deknis said. “Getting into trouble?”

“No,” Virgil said, shaking his head.

Mr. Deknis gave him a flash of a smile. “I know, I’m joking,” he said. “Especially since there isn’t much left in my gardens for certain princes to destroy with experiments.”

“Oh, okay,” Virgil said. He tilted his head. “What are you doing?”

“I’m getting the last of the acorn squash out,” Mr. Deknis replied. “It’s the last crop to get finished. Good thing too, it’s supposed to start snowing soon.”

Virgil looked down curiously at the dark green squash.

“Would you like to help me pick a couple?” Mr. Deknis asked.

“Sure,” Virgil said, sounding interested. Mr. Deknis patted the ground beside him, and Virgil knelt down to watch him.

“They’re not too difficult to harvest,” he said. “You just cut the fruit off the stem. You want to leave about a hand’s width of the stem left over which will help preserve moisture. The earlier harvests I left in the field to cure in the sun for a couple weeks, but the frost’ll ruin these, so we’ll take them inside the green house and let them sit in the sun for a bit there. We also want to keep the leaves. You’ll probably be eating those for dinner tonight since they have to be cooked up within about 24 hours after they’re picked. Patton’s mom makes a good side dish with them and she’ll be making some curry tomorrow, probably. Maybe some stew if there are some left over. Put the squash in this wheelbarrow and the leaves into this pile, okay?” Virgil nodded and Mr. Deknis handed him the extra pair of gloves and shears he carried with him in case one set broke. “These might be a bit big on you, but they should work for now.”

Mr. Deknis looked up at Patton and Logan. “Would the two of you like to help?” he asked. “I can get some more equipment.”

“I can help out if you want, but you don’t need to stop and get more equipment just for me,” Patton said.

“The same for me,” Logan said.

“Well, if you’d like to help still, you can sort the leave. Give your mother a head start.”

“Sure,” Patton said. He and Logan went to do that while Mr. Deknis and Virgil worked on cutting the squashes from the vine.

“What do you do during the winter?” Virgil asked curiously. “If this is your last crop?”

“Well, at the beginning, I mostly will be working on making sure things are stored correctly along with some of the kitchen staff. There’s some drying to do and some canning. After that’s done, I’ll spend some time organizing and planning. Then, before the spring comes, I’ll start preparing seedlings in the green house.”

“Seedlings?” he asked.

“I let seeds start to grow in the greenhouse that I replant once it gets warm enough.”

“Why don’t you just plant them where they’re going?”

“I do for some,” he said, “but giving some a head start is good for them.”

Patton watched as Virgil continued to ask questions about gardening while working on harvesting the squash. Mr. Deknis continued to answer them in a calm, soft tone that Patton didn’t think he’d ever heard from the often gruff man before.

Patton wasn’t surprised when, after finishing getting most of the squash off of the vine, Mr. Deknis asked if Virgil wanted to help him with canning some pears in a couple of days. Virgil immediately looked over at Logan and Patton as though asking permission.

“Say yes if you would like to Virgil,” Logan said.

“Yes,” Virgil said as soon as he was given permission. Mr. Deknis smiled at him softly and started loading the last of the squash into the wheelbarrow. Patton offered to run the squash leaves to the kitchen while Logan and Virgil helped Mr. Deknis take the actual squash to the green house.

He dropped the leaves off to a kitchen worker since Mama was busy and headed back out to the garden. By the time he returned, Logan was already back from the green house and sitting by one of the more decorative trees near the castle.

“He’s exploring,” Logan said, nodding at a large patch of bushes.

Patton chuckled. “I see.” He sat next to Logan. Every so often he’d hear the bushes rustle, but he couldn’t tell if it was actually Virgil or an animal.

“He’s adorable,” Patton commented, keeping an ear out.

Logan hummed.

“I’m glad we kept him.”

“He isn’t a pet, Patton.”

Patton rolled his eyes. “I know, but I’m still glad. I’m glad he’s making friends with Mr. Deknis. Once he knows how to read better, we should get him a book about gardening. He seems interested.”

Logan nodded. “Having a hobby would be good for him. Clearly he has a fascination with the garden.” He nodded to the blur of dark hair that could be seen through the bushes. It seemed Virgil had stopped his exploration and was now laying down in the bushes a few feet away.

“I’m going to go see what he’s doing,” Patton said. “I’ll be right back.”

Logan nodded and Patton got to his feet. The bushes were part of a small maze that was filled with flowers during the spring and summer months but were mostly just green and brown bushes for now. Despite the fact that Patton had been able to see him only a few feet away, it took him a while to wind through the path to where he was. When he finally turned the last corner and he came into view, Patton gasped softly.

“Ghost kitty!” he said, making sure to make his voice as quiet as possible.

Despite how soft he made his voice, two pairs of eyes shot over to him. The completely black kitten was perched on Virgil’s lap like she belonged there. Ghost Kitty hissed slightly, but Virgil reached forward to pet her head gently.

“This is Ghost Kitty?” Virgil asked. “I thought you said she was hard to pet.”

“She is,” Patton said. He lowered himself onto the ground from a few feet away from them. “How did you get her to come to you?”

Virgil glanced down at the cat and shrugged, scratching one of her ears. “She just came over to me and let me pet her.”

“Wow,” Patton said softly. He looked at the cat. “Could I pet you sweetie?” he asked, holding out a hand in her direction. She hissed again.

Virgil frowned down at her. “It’s Patton,” he said as though he expected her to understand his words and the exasperation in his tone.

He pet the cat’s head to soothe her and then reached over to grab Patton’s hand. He pulled and Patton carefully leaned a bit closer until his hand was within sniffing distance. Ghost Kitty sniffed his fingers contemplatively and then bumped her head against it. He barely restrained a squeal, knowing that probably wouldn’t be taken well.

He carefully turned his hand over so he could stroke the top of her head. He gently scratched her ear, not daring to go for under her chin yet since she didn’t know him well. “Hi,” he said softly. After a moment, she started to purr softly. Virgil reached over and scratched under her chin and she purred louder. “Oh, you’re a good girl,” Patton breathed, letting a hand trail gently down her back once and then again. Patton settled himself carefully into a seating position continuing to pet her. After a few more moments of soft petting, she hesitantly stepped her front paws onto Patton’s thigh, so she was sitting in both of their laps. Patton laughed softly. “Hi sweetie.” He glanced over at Virgil who had a wide smile on his face as he pet the cat. This. This was adorable. They continued to pet the cat for a very long time.

  Chapter 31

Logan waited for a while after Patton left to check on Virgil, but the two never resurfaced. It was odd, Patton would usually remember to come back and get Logan or at least tell them where they were. With a sigh, Logan climbed to his feet to go find them. It took him a while to weave his way through the maze of bushes to them especially because they were suspiciously quiet (Well, suspicious for Patton. Virgil was often unnervingly quiet when alone.) Luckily, he knew the bushes enough after all of these years not to get lost and managed to find the two after a few minutes.

“Ah,” he said, immediately identifying the reason for Patton disappearing.

 “Logan!” Patton said, his voice excited, but also quieter than normal. “We found a kitty!”

“I can see that,” Logan responded, taking a step closer. The cat hissed at him in response. The hissing was so intense and wild that he’d suspect the thing was feral if it wasn’t happily on Virgil’s lap having had it’s head in Patton’s lap before Logan had approached.

“No,” Virgil told the animal as though it could understand words. “That’s Logan. Be nice.”

The cat still glared at him and swished it’s tail back and forth threateningly. Virgil pet the top of it’s head and it broke eye contact with Logan to purr.

 Patton seemed delighted by the purring, reaching to stroke under the thing’s chin carefully. “We should give her a name!” Patton said.

Virgil frowned. “I thought her name was Ghost Kitty.”

“That is ‘Ghost Kitty’?” Logan asked skeptically. From what Patton had said about that cat, it was terrified of people and no one could ever get near it, even him. Now it was in Virgil’s lap?

“But that was a temporary name,” Patton said, “for before we officially met her. Now we have to give her a real name.”

“Do not give it a name,” Logan said. “You will get attached.”

 “How do you name a cat?” Virgil asked.

“Do not name it,” Logan said.

“You give them names based on their personalities, how they look, or even just because it’s a cute name,” Patton explained. “Like, remember Mittens? I named her Mittens because she has white fur and black paws!”

Virgil looked at the cat. “She’s completely black,” he said.

Patton hummed. “So, we could give her a name based on that like Midnight or Shadow.”

“Those are fine,” Virgil said.

“No, no,” Patton said. “I’m just giving you examples. You get to name her yourself.”

“This is a bad idea,” Logan said.

 “Just throw out some names,” Patton said. “Anything you can think of.”

“Uh,” Virgil said. “Knife.”

“…Just Knife?” Patton asked.

“Nightmare.” Virgil seemed to think about it. “No, that’s mean.”

“How about things you like?” Patton suggested.

“Alfredo?”

Oh no, Logan thought, he was worse than Patton at cat naming.

“Good start,” Patton said. “Logan, do you have any suggestions.”

“Cat,” Logan said.

“Real suggestions,” Patton scolded.

Logan sighed and thought for a moment. “Aphrodite.”

“Catphrodite!”

Logan glared at him. “Helena.”

“Helenpaw.”

“Claudia.”

“Clawdia.”

“Persephone.”

Patton smiled at him, cheerfully.

“…Damnit!”

Patton turned to Virgil again. “Like that! They don’t even have to be serious. Like, uh, you could name her Madam Fluffywuffykins the Great!”

“Do not name her that,” Logan said, scrunching up his nose.

 Logan sat on the ground, the cat eyeing him, but no longer hissing. Logan gently guided them towards more sensible names despite Patton trying his hardest to drag them into stupidity.

Virgil still didn’t quite get it. He mostly tried to name it after foodstuff, and often not even appropriate foodstuff such as “Corn” and “Acorn Squash” and “Sandwich” and occasionally would drop in semi violent ones such as “Razor,” “Nightshade” and “Void.” Patton suggested names like “Fluffers,” “Bobette” and “Darling” as well as some that were puns. Logan tried to direct them towards more sensible ones like “Salem” and even went so low as to suggest the contrary “Snowball.”

 It quickly seemed to become less about actually naming the cat and more of a game. Patton had taught Virgil about playing with cats and had even gotten out a ball of yarn he cared around for his crafts. Both Virgil and the cat seemed to find endless entertainment with that. Logan hoped Patton had another ball of yarn that color because, he was never going to get that ball back.

The barrage of names fizzled out into naming things around them like “Leaf” and “Bush” until they stopped suggesting names altogether. Patton and Logan sat back and watched Virgil play with the cat.

 Logan watched as they stopped playing suddenly and Virgil and the cat squinted at each other. “Marisol,” Virgil said, pulling the name out of nowhere. “That’s her name.” He said it with a certainty that was surprising considering how he’d treated the naming process with confusion and caution earlier. If Logan did not know better, his tone of voice would indicate that the cat, or Marisol he guessed, had gotten bored of them coming up with stupid names and decided to tell him her actual name herself.

The cat made a sound and batted at Virgil’s face without claws to grab back his attention.

 He turned back to it and bopped its face with a finger in kind. It attacked his finger, but in a clearly playful matter as it still did not extend it’s claws and its teeth did not draw blood.

“That’s a great name, Virgil,” Patton said.

“Much more pleasant than any that Patton suggested all afternoon,” Logan said. He received an elbow to the side for his quip.

“A pretty name for a pretty kitty,” Patton said, scooting over to where Virgil was sat and attempting to pet Marisol’s head. Marisol, however, was too keyed up and batted at the hand.

 “I love you too!” Patton said.

Logan rolled his eyes, but he had long since resigned himself to watching the two of them play with and coo over the cat for the rest of the day.

Eventually, though, it started to get darker. Even after Logan pointed this out, it still took over an hour for them to relent and leave the bush maze to go to the door. The problem was of course, that the cat had managed to grow very attached to Virgil in the last few hours and she followed them all the way to the door with manipulatively heart breaking mews.

 “You’ve got to stay out here,” Virgil said, when they got to the castle door. He pet her ear softly and she shoved her head into his hand. “I’m sorry. I don’t have anywhere to put you.” He sounded horribly sad about that fact and Logan felt himself shift uncomfortably. “I basically live in a closet and Logan doesn’t like cats in his room anyway.”

Logan immediately felt unreasonably guilty, probably more so because Logan did not think Virgil was trying to make him feel guilty. “…Bring the dammed thing inside.”

Virgil blinked up at him. “What?”

“It will get cold soon anyway,” Logan said.

He frowned at Logan from where he was crouched. “But you don’t like fur in your room…”

“I will have to find a potion that works,” he said with a sigh, “and we’ll have to say it’s mine to the guards and Father since it will be staying in my room, but it is yours in every other way. That means you are going to feed it, clean it, and clean up after it.”

Virgil nodded immediately and swooped Marisol up in his arms. The cat went without complaint. “Thank you!” he said. “I love her.”

“I know you do,” Logan said, already regretting it already. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to even consider recanting the offer considering how happy Virgil seemed to be. They had a cat now, he guessed.

  Chapter 32

“What are you doing?” Helen asked a few minutes after her son walked into the kitchen and started looking around as though he were trying to find something. It was a few hours into the afternoon, and she and a few workers were already prepping for dinner.

“Uh,” Patton said. “Have you seen Virgil?”

“No,” Helen said. “Why.”

“Er… Logan and I sorta, lost him,” Patton said. He was wringing his hands anxiously. Helen put down the knife in her hand.

“What do you mean you lost him?” she asked.

“Well, see, we were trying to teach him how to play hide and seek, um, but then we didn’t think to tell him that he eventually had to come out if we didn’t find him, and now we haven’t seen him since breakfast.”

 “He didn’t know what tag is?” she asked. That was just one more thing to add to the list of why Helen worried about Virgil and where he came from. Every morsel of information she’d managed to wring from Patton despite his evasions made her lists of concerns grow larger, even little things like him not knowing about simple childhood games. Actually, thinking of concerning things having to do with Virgil. “Wait, so he hasn’t eaten lunch.”

“Um, we don’t know that,” Patton’s mouth said while his eyes said ‘no.’

“He needs to be on a consistent diet, especially when he’s still taking the malnutrition potion,” she scolded.

 “I know, Mama, I know,” Patton said. “I’m trying to find him. I’d kinda hoped he’d gotten hungry and snuck down here. He probably wouldn’t want to risk being caught stealing food though.”

Helen grimaced. Yet another concerning thing.

“Wait! I have an idea, I’ll be right back.” Patton turned and ran out of the room. Helen frowned at the space he’d been and finished chopping the carrot on the cutting board in front of her. If it had been any other person in the castle missing, Helen wouldn’t have worried, but she had literally never seen Virgil without Patton and/or Logan by his side. Even when he’d gone to help Jeff can some fruit, Logan had reportedly hung around to read a book.

 Considering that Logan had never exactly been clingy even with Patton, she imagined that either Virgil asked, or Logan thought he should stay with him for his comfort. So, she was surprised that he was apparently hidden away somewhere in the castle where neither of the other kids could find him.

Still thinking about this, she walked over to the entrance to the cellar below the kitchen where they stored most of the vegetables, planning to grab some more carrots. She was confused for a moment when she heard movement from deeper in the pantry. She reached over and touched the panel near the door that controlled the magic lights.

 The newly illuminated figure startled as the lights came on, whipping around to stare at her with wide eyes.

“Virgil?” she asked.

“Sorry,” he said immediately, taking a step back.

“It’s fine,” she said immediately, “but what are you doing here?”

He considered her for a long moment, but apparently, she passed some sort of mental test, because he relaxed, at least as much as he’d ever relaxed in her presence. “Where are we?” he asked.

Her brow knit together. “The cellar under the kitchen,” she said, “You don’t know that?”

He shook his head.

“The only entrance is from the kitchen.” Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t seen him go through the kitchen at any point.

 “No, it’s not,” Virgil said. “There’s a tunnel.”

“A-a tunnel?” she asked. Actually, taking a closer look at him, he seemed a bit grimy. He had dust all over his front and dirt on his nose. She thought he might even have a couple of cobwebs in his hair.

“Yep,” he said.

“Where’s the tunnel?” she asked.

“It’s right over here,” he said. He took a couple of steps and pointed to the ground. There was an open square hole there that clearly had been made a long time ago but which she had never noticed in all of her time working here.

 “How did you find this?” she asked.

“We were playing hide and seek,” Virgil explained. “Logan said I could hide anywhere inside the castle. I hid on top of a dresser upstairs in some unused sitting room. There was a hole in the wall above it, so I climbed into it. Then, I crawled a little bit and it let out into a hidden passage in the walls. I wandered around in it until I found another hole in one of the walls. I thought it was a way out, so I squeezed into it, but it took me to a different hallway where I found an old room. There was a different hole in that room that had probably been covered by something because it was in the floor but whatever it was had rotted away. I crawled though it into a tunnel and came out here.”

 She couldn’t help but laugh a bit at his explanation. “Well, it sounds like you went on an adventure,” she said, “but Patton and Logan have been trying to find you. You missed lunch.”

He tilted his head at her. “I know. I was supposed to hide.”

“Yes,” she explained, “but you are supposed to come out at some point if they can’t find you for things like food.”

“Oh,” he said.

“They probably should have explained,” she said. “For now, why don’t we get you something to eat? You must be hungry.”

Virgil frowned. “But I missed lunch.”

“You can still eat even though it’s not in normal hours,” she said. “You could even if you had made it to lunch.”

 “Really?” he asked, he looked tragically confused by this offer.

“Of course, sweetie,” she said. “In fact, I insist you get something good to eat right now. How about I made you a grilled ham and cheese sandwich? Maybe some cookies too!”

Virgil titled his head. “You are Patton’s mother,” he stated.

Helen laughed softly. “He gets its all from me,” she said. “We should probably go find him and tell him you’re okay. He was worried.”

“I didn’t mean to worry him,” Virgil said with a frown.

“I know,” Helen said. “It’s okay. He’ll probably laugh when he figures out where you’ve been, and Logan will interrogate you all about the secret passageways.” He seemed happy about the prospect of seeing his friends. “Come on, let’s go upstairs for a bit,” she said.

  Chapter 33

Patton’s mom had already made Virgil sit down at the small table in the corner of the kitchen and had handed him a sandwich by the time Patton barreled into the kitchen, Logan coming after him at a more sedate pace.

“Virgil!” he said, sounding surprised and relieved.

“Patton,” Patton’s mom scolded. “No cats in the kitchen.” Patton had brought Marisol in with him and had let her go as soon as he’d seen Virgil. She immediately plodded over to him and hoped onto the table to sniff at his face in greeting.

“But she’s the princess!” Patton argued.

“No,” Logan said.

 “Yes, she is!” Patton said.

“The stupid cat is not a princess.”

“Don’t be mean to your little sister, Logan.”

“I regret every life decision that has led me to this point.”

While Logan and Patton were distracted squabbling and Patton’s mom was distracted watching them squabble, Virgil tore off a bit of the ham in his sandwich and offered it to Marisol. Marisol gracefully took it from his grip and ate it.

“So, this is Logan’s new cat I’ve been hearing about?” Patton’s mom asked.

“Indeed,” Logan said, his lips thinned. He and Marisol were mostly amicable when alone with just them and Virgil, but Patton had a habit of cooing over the kitten and needling Logan into being irritated.

 “Mmm, yeah,” Patton’s mom said. She glanced over at Virgil right as Marisol basically slammed her face into his chin in a bid to get pets. “Your cat.” She shook her head. “But Princess Kitten or not, I do not want fur in dinner,” she said.

“Sorry,” Patton said, honestly not sounding sorry at all. Virgil was always a bit surprised when the insolent shrug garnered nothing more that a scowl that did not reach Patton’s mom’s eyes. “I thought she could help me find Virgil, but you already found him.” He turned to Virgil. “Where have you been all day?”

 “Found a tunnel,” Virgil said. He had to use one hand to hold Marisol back from his sandwich as he took another bite, but then gave her a bite of cheese.

“You found what?” Logan asked.

“There’s a tunnel under the cellar,” Virgil said. “It goes to an old closed up room and also to a set of secret passageways.” It was a bit of a security risk honestly, though clearly no one had used it in years by how dirty it was. He did plan to go back into it and make sure the sprawling tunnels didn’t go to anywhere more dangerous like the royal wing.

 “A closed-up room?” Logan said. He could see a bit of curiosity already building in his eyes.

“Yeah,” Virgil said. “Where the door used to be seemed like it had been bricked over.”

“Really? Can you show me.”

“Sure,” Virgil answered.

“Ah, perhaps we should be a bit more cautious about climbing through random tunnels we don’t know the stability of,” Patton’s mom said.

Logan’s frown edged on a pout.

“Talk to your father,” she said. “I’m sure he can get someone who understands these things so you can safely investigate.”

“It was safe enough for Virgil,” Logan pointed out.

 “No, Logan.”

He sighed but seemed to concede. That was another strange thing about living here. By all rights Logan didn’t have to obey anyone except the king, but he often listened to those around him, not just the adults but Patton as well. It was interesting though it sometimes made the hierarchy hard to figure out. Virgil did sometimes stress out about the hypothetical situation where he got conflicting orders from two people, and he wouldn’t know which one to obey. So far it hadn’t been a problem luckily. They always seemed to work it out amongst themselves in some give and take social interaction that was a bit too complex for him to understand.

 Patton walked over to where Virgil was sitting. “I’m glad your safe,” he said. “We should probably put a time limit on hide and seek in the future, so you know when to come out.”

“Did I win?” Virgil asked. He’d honestly forgotten they’d been playing a game until Patton’s mom had asked how he’d found his way into the cellar.

Patton laughed. “I’d say so, yeah,” he replied. He leaned over to kiss Virgil’s forehead, but drew back immediately with a pinched expression. “You are… very dirty,” he said, rubbing his mouth.

Virgil nodded. “Your mom made me sit on a tablecloth,” he said gesturing to the fabric she’d laid over the chair.

 Patton snorted out a laugh. “We’ll get you into the bath when you’re done eating and you can tell us all about your little adventure.”

“I would also like to hear about your discoveries,” Logan said. “Though you are not allowed to sit on the bed until you do not have spider webs in your hair.”

Patton’s eyes widened and he jumped away from Virgil, startling both Virgil and Marisol. The latter hopped from the table onto Virgil’s lap. “Spiders?!”

Virgil tilted his head at him in confusion.

“He isn’t a fan of spiders,” Logan informed him, his voice amused at Patton’s reaction.

 Apparently deciding that she was no longer startled, but more confused by the noises Patton had just made, Marisol jumped out of Virgil’s lap to investigate, wrapping her way around Patton’s legs. He bent down to pat her back, though he still looked a bit startled.

“Your cat, huh?” Patton’s mom asked Logan once again. Virgil studied her. She had apparently missed Logan mentioning that he allowed Virgil on the bed. Or perhaps Logan was correct in his insistence that it wasn’t actually that big of a deal here. Virgil would rather not test that assumption, however, so was glad that it had been distracted from by Patton’s outburst.

 “Creepy, crawly death dealers,” Patton mumbled into Marisol’s fur, having picked her back up. Virgil made a note to not inform Patton of all of the different types of spiders he’d seen skittering around in the castle walls today. Maybe he’d talk about them with Logan once Patton left. He’d probably be interested. Virgil had seen some he’d never seen before! Logan probably could even help him figure out what their names were. “You’ll protect me, won’t you kitty?” Patton asked Marisol.

She made a little ‘burrrr’ sound in response, which Patton seemed to take a confirmation.

“Aw thank you, baby! Such a good baby.”

50234

Virgil popped the rest of the sandwich into his mouth. Patton’s mom turned away and grabbed a plate stacked with cookies. She handed it to Logan. “Take these, and please get the health hazards out of my kitchen,” she requested.

Logan took them without complaint. “Come on, Virgil,” he said. “Let’s go get you clean.”

“We’re going to need so much soap,” Patton said.

Virgil looked down at himself. “I can go outside and get most of it off if you get me a bucket of water,” he offered.

“Virgil, it’s below freezing,” Logan said as though that had a baring on what he’d just said. Logan sighed. “No. Bathtub.” Virgil shrugged. “Honestly,” Logan said. He turned with the plate of cookies in his hand, clearly expecting to be followed. “You’re not going to catch your death pouring a bucket of water over yourself in the cold when there are literally over a hundred perfectly good bathtubs in this castle. For goodness sakes.” And well, Virgil wasn’t going to complain.

  Chapter 34

Patton, to be completely honest, was not all that interested in the room that Virgil had found. Beyond just the fact that it would definitely have creepy crawly death dealers in it, he really did not understand the intrigue. If it had just been him, he probably would have just let a castle worker deal with it, but it was not just him. Logan was ecstatic with the prospect of investigating a secret in the castle. People who didn’t know him well may not believe it considering he spent most of his time with his nose in a book, but he was an adventurer at heart.

 Thomas had been easily swayed into finding someone to help tear down part of the wall into the secret tunnel near the room (so no one would have to crawl through the kitchen cellar like Virgil). It had taken a few days, however, and Logan was practically bouncing off the walls waiting. Virgil, despite having already seen the room before, also seemed excited, though if that was because of his own curiosity or because he was just excited that Logan seemed so exited remained to be seen.

“They are silly, aren’t they,” Patton asked Princess Marisol. He was laying on his stomach on Logan’s bed and Princess Marisol had just put her little paw on his nose.

 “Yes, I agree,” he said. “Don’t they know that we’re literally going to be 2 feet away from the normal hallway?”

“It is not silly,” Logan defended himself. “Any number of things could go wrong.” He sounded far too excited about the prospect of something going terribly wrong. “The tunnels could cave in and block off the exit or there could be some unknown pathogen in the air.”

Patton did not ruin his fun by mentioning that Logan’s dad had definitely basically baby proofed the tunnels for them ahead of time. Instead, he just said, “Don’t let Virgil hear you say that sort of thing. It will just stress him out.”

 “Yes, yes, of course,” he said, waving off Patton’s concerns as he mulled over two different weird green planty things (potion ingredients, Patton assumed) before setting one aside and sticking the other in his bag.

“So silly,” Patton cooed at the cat. Logan let out a huff but did not choose to say anything about it this time.

Speaking of silly, Virgil came back from Logan’s bathroom then, and Patton tried not to giggle. “Is this right?” Virgil asked, sounding and looking confused. Logan, in his overexcitement about adventure had commissioned Virgil an outfit that actually fit. Said outfit, however, very much made it look more like Virgil was going on a safari instead of a two-foot detour from the normal castle hallway.

 “Almost,” Logan said, “Here, let me.” Logan started straightening everything out and flattening the collar, reminding Patton of an overbearing parent on picture day. Virgil accepted the fussing without protest. It was adorable. Well, the outfit was ridiculous, but still, adorable. “There,” Logan said. “I think we’re ready to go now.”

It was about time. Patton was sure people were already waiting for them downstairs. Patton got up and patted Princess Marisol on the head. She looked up at them with interest.

“You can stay here, sweetie,” Patton told here. She seemed to consider it and then hopped down from the bed to go rub up against Virgil.

 Patton guessed she was coming. It didn’t matter too much since Logan had given her a magical collar that allowed her to open most doors in the castle and everyone knew she was the royal cat now, so if she decided she wanted to come back to the room and nap, she could. (She was very aware of the power she held.)

She pranced happily by Virgil’s side all the way down the steps to the first floor of the castle. She was such a good kitty.

Well, she did hiss angrily at everyone who came too close to them, but still, a very good kitty.

 Patton did lean down and pick her up so they could actually talk to the man waiting for them at the large hole in the wall. Logan went to talk to the castle worker while Virgil half hid behind Patton. He was clearly listening very intently to the conversation however, at least more intently than Patton was. Patton was busy shaking his head fondly.

“Yes, yes, Princess,” he said to the cat. “I know we do not trust the strangers, but I promise this stranger is perfectly safe.”

“How do you know?” Virgil asked.

“His name is Chester and I’ve known him since I was 9.”

 This seemed to slightly alleviate Virgil’s suspicion, but Princess Marisol still seemed antsy. Patton really needed to start slowly introducing the both of them to more people.

Logan finished talking with Chester after a few moments and it was time to climb through the hole in the wall. He wished he saw in the tunnel whatever Logan with his excited eyes and bounce to his step obviously saw. Or even that was more comfortable in the dark closed in space as Virgil obviously was. As it was, Patton’s nose scrunched up at the thought off all of the spiders that could be living everywhere in the secret tunnel, but he pushed through.

 The entrance to the tunnel had been made only a little bit from the room Virgil had mentioned and Chester had led them through it after only a couple of seconds. As Patton had suspected, the room was already lit up and probably cleaned a little bit by the people who had cut into the wall, not that he was complaining.

Virgil was still clinging a bit to Patton’s shirt, though it seemed to be less out of anxiety at this point and more out of a desire to stick close. He was peering around curiously at the lit-up space. He probably hadn’t seen much of it in the dark when he’d been here before.

 Yet, his curiosity was nothing compared to how excited Logan seemed to be. Now Patton may have not been interested in the room itself, but he was entertained by how interested Logan was and was happy to encourage that.

“What do you think this place is?” he asked Logan.

Logan hummed contemplatively, eyes looking around. “Well,” he said. “It’s a bedroom clearly, and old. Considering the location it is in in the castle, the size, the decorations, and it’s likely age, I’d imagine it was a bedroom of a royal family member. This used to be the royal wing three royal lines ago.”

 “Bearing that in mind, there are a couple of likely possibilities for the origin of the room as well as the reason it was sealed up, but we will need to investigate more in order to come to an actual conclusion.” He had already placed the bag he’d brought on the ground and was going through it, pulling out things that Patton did not recognize. He also got a piece of paper and sat on the floor to start to sketch.

“What are you doing?” Virgil asked.

“I’m sketching the floorplan of the room,” Logan said. “I will then put a grid on it so we can investigate while being sure that we aren’t missing anything.”

 Virgil seemed uninterested in this part of the adventure, instead electing to go poking around by himself. Princess Marisol squirmed out of Patton’s arms to go follow him. Patton swore that he only looked away from those two for 5 seconds, but the next thing he knew he heard metal clicking against metal.

“Oh,” Patton said, eyes wide when he saw what Virgil was fiddling with. “Honey, you probably shouldn’t touch…”

The old but fancy looking chest that had been at the end of the remains of the bed creaked open. Virgil sneezed as a cloud of dust puffed out of it. “Huh,” he said studying the contents. “There’s a skull in here.”

 “Oh, I don’t like this adventure anymore,” Patton commented.

Logan was on his feet within moments. “Let me see,” he said eagerly.

“What if it’s cursed?” Patton pointed out.

“Then I’ll just break the curse,” Logan waved him off. “Oh, it’s just a horse skull,” Logan said, sounding disappointed. “And also what seemed to be potion ingredients. Though they seem very fresh considering the state of the room.”

“Maybe we should get someone else to…”

Logan already had both arms inside the chest and was pulling things out of it. “This chest must have some sort of stasis effect to it.”

 He started pulling things out to look at them before setting them on the floor with no caution. “Well,” he said, “that answers the question of what this room is.”

“It does?” Patton asked.

“Ah, yes, between the horse skull and the potion ingredients, this is obviously the bedroom of Princess Marianne Elicia. She was the third child of King Simon IV and was quite the fan of horses.”

“…So she kept a horse skull in a stasis chest in her bedroom?” Patton asked.

“Of course,” Logan said. “Back when her family was in power, magic was outlawed and had quite the stigma against it, but she ended up learning magic and become quite proficient.”

 “It’s debated what exactly happened when her father found out about her activities. Some sources say that she was executed silently by her father, but others say she managed to escape with the head of the stables but not before putting a curse on the country of Prijaznia. That is until she or one of her bloodline sits on the throne, every royal line will end in madness and blood by the 5th seated monarch before an heir is born.”

“Isn’t that something you should be worried about?” Virgil asked.

Logan shrugged. “It’s just a myth,” he said. “Besides I’m 6th in the line, so there really isn’t any concern.”

52142

“There are a lot of interesting things in here,” Logan said, still focused on the chest. “Not to mention the books. We’ll have to be careful with those though since they don’t appear to be in stasis.”

Logan pulled the horse skull out and set it on the floor making Patton wince.

“Marisol no!” he said as Princess Marisol immediately went to go sniff at it. He swooped her up in his arms. “How long are we staying in this creepy room?” Patton asked.

“Patton, we just got here,” Logan said.

“We just got here and already found a skull!”

“Yes! Exactly!”

Patton groaned into Princess Marisol’s fur even as she tried wiggle away to go back and investigate the skull. This was going to be a long day.

  Chapter 35

Logan was surprised when he woke up alone in bed. He’d grown to anticipate waking to a smaller body unrelentingly clinging to his in the past couple of weeks. Confused he sat up and peered around his bedroom. He wouldn’t have seen Virgil with the way he melted into the darkness if it he hadn’t heard the sound of purring coming from near the window. He could just barely make out a dark blob shifting up and down at the cat kneaded at a different blob sitting mostly hidden behind the thick curtain.

“Virgil?” Logan questioned. “What are you doing?”

 “It’s snowing,” was the answer.

“That is not an answer,” Logan grumbled at the ceiling. With a sigh, he pulled himself out of bed. It was a bit chilly in here, he thought. The temperature must have dipped suddenly and intensely enough that the runes keeping the castle at a warm enough temperature hadn’t caught up yet. He pulled one of the blankets off of the top of his bed to wrap around his shoulders as he approached the window. There wasn’t much light outside, the stars and moon covered by clouds, but there were some lanterns lit for the night guard who patrolled the outside. “Oh,” he said in surprise. “It’s really snowing.”

 It had been colder but not quite cold enough for snow to stick the day before, so it came as a surprise when he saw snow was piling up quite high to the point where familiar paths outside his window had disappeared.

“I don’t like it,” Virgil informed him.

“Why not?” Logan asked.

“It’s cold,” Virgil answered. It was clear in his tone that in Virgil’s opinion ‘cold’ was a horrible insult to the concept of snow. Logan quirked a half smile and his attention was drawn to the fact that it was quite cold right here close to the window.

 Frowning, he pulled at the blanket around his shoulder so he could wrap it and his arm around the lump that was Virgil. He brushed the boy’s hand when he did so and found it was like ice.

“You’re freezing!” Logan said. “How long have you been by the window?”

“I dunno,” he replied.

Logan was already tugging at him. “You need to get back in bed,” he said.

Virgil obeyed the pulling at his arms even as he frowned. “I’ve been colder than this before,” he said.

“That actually doesn’t make me feel better,” Logan replied dryly as he shooed him towards the bed.

 He took the thicker blanket that usually stayed folded at the end of the bed and pulled it up over Virgil before climbing into bed beside him.

“There,” Logan said, rubbing Virgil’s arms through the fabric of the sweater he wore to bed. He was glad he wasn’t wearing a t-shirt at least. “The runes for heating the castle should catch up within a few hours, but until then this should do. Assuming we don’t sit by the freezing window for an undetermined amount of time.”

“I don’t like the cold,” Virgil told him.

Logan sighed. “Then why did you sit by the window?”

 Virgil shrugged and ducked his head a bit. Logan reached out to grab his hands to help him warm more but was surprised when one of the hands was much warmer than the other. He found his fingers were clutching a crescent shaped stone: the protection charm they’d made. Logan knew that he kept it in his pocket most of the time, but he didn’t normally see him holding it like this. It was warm to the touch, of course, indicating the safety of the room around them.

Logan looked over his face. “Are you…” he said. “Scared of the snow?”

 “I don’t like the cold,” he said once again.

“You’re scared of the winter,” Logan concluded. He looked at Virgil who was far too small for his age and seemed surprised at every casual act of kindness. It was clear that his basic needs were far from being met before he came here. Logan had to wonder what winter usually meant for him. His experiences were doubtlessly very different from Logan’s own. “That makes sense,” he acknowledged, “but you don’t need to be scared of it here. The castle is always perfectly warm and safe in the winter and Mr. Deknis and Ms. Heart work hard during the other seasons to make sure we have plenty of food. There is nothing to fear here.”

 He did not seem convinced.

“You don’t even have to go outside if you don’t want to,” Logan promised. “The castle is plenty big if you’d like to stay inside all winter long. It was made for the winter even without the magic devices that keep it warm. We have fireplaces and well insulated rooms even if those that ends up failing.” Logan pulled open the hand that had the protection charm just to transfer it to his other hand to warm it. “Though, while no one would force you to go outside, the snow isn’t always bad.”

“Yes it is,” Virgil said, his voice sure.

 “Not all the time,” Logan insisted. “Some people love the snow.”

“They’re stupid.”

Logan laughed. “It can be fun for a while with the right equipment if you have someplace to get warm again afterwards. Royal duties slow down during the winter and Patton tends to come up with all sorts of games for both the inside and the outside to pass the time. He’s particularly proficient at snowball fights, at least against me.”

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Play fighting,” Logan answered. “Like pillow fights, but snow.”

“I’ll stick with the pillows,” he replied.

“And then there’s a hill to sled down on the western side of the castle, and people like to build snowmen along the path.”

“What are snowmen?” Virgil asked.

 They’re temporary statues made out of packed snow,” Logan explained. “Typically, they’re made of three different sized balls of snow: the largest being the base and the smallest the ‘head’ though there are some variations. After building them one typically decorates them with different articles of clothing and objects found lying around. It’s usually sticks and rocks for the face and then things like extra hats and scarfs for decoration.” He smiled softly. “When my Pa was alive, we used to steal my Dad’s crown and fanciest robes. Sometimes Pa would steal it right off of Dad’s head and we’d run away. We’d find a secluded area of the castle yards and build the biggest snowman we could as quickly as we could before we got caught. He’d usually end up letting us keep the robes, but we’d have to give the crown back since some of the metals in it would rust when wet.”

 “That sounds…” Virgil’s nose twitched. “fun if you take away the touching snow part.”

Logan laughed. “It is fun,” he said. “Even with the touching snow part. Though, I admit that some of the ability for it to be entertaining does come from the fact that we could warm up afterwards with ease. You’ll enjoy Patton’s mother’s constant offering of hot chocolate during the season even if you never go outside, I’m sure.”

“Hot chocolate?” Virgil asked intrigued. His dark eyes shone brightly in the little light coming through the window. It was clear he could guess something about the drink just by the name and enjoyed the implications.

 Logan smiled fondly. “It is a hot drink,” he explained. “It’s a warm drink made out of milk and chocolate. I can get you some to try in the morning.”

Virgil nodded, eyes still wide with interest.

“For now, we should sleep though,” Logan said. “Are you warm enough? I can get more blankets.”

“I’m fine,” he said.

“Good,” Logan said, reaching up and adjusting the blanket over them once more, tucking it around Virgil a little bit for good measure. “Goodnight Virgil,” he said.

“Goodnight,” he replied softly. Logan reached under the blankets to grab the hand that was still slightly chilly from the window between his own. Virgil’s eyes slipped closed after a moment as he nuzzle his face into the pillow. At some point they both drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter 36

Thomas had already been well aware that winter was on the way, but he and the rest of the castle occupants had been surprised at how intensely and suddenly it had come on. Most things were ready for the winter, but not all of them had been initiated. The fireplaces that took some pressure off the castle heating runes were cleaned out and ready, but they hadn’t been started yet. The stables for different animals on the grounds had been checked over and staff assignments had been made, but most were still in far out fields. Staff that went home for the winter months had been dismissed, but there were a few stragglers that would have to be helped home before things got worse.

 He’d gone out to the main stable to talk to the three workers that were the heads of different areas of animal husbandry to make sure a plan to get everything to where it needed to be soon was in place. It took a while to figure out considering that they’d expected a little more time before the first major snowfall. Thomas also asked them to make sure all of the workers’ homes were in good enough condition for the weather. Ranch hands typically had homes on castle grounds but not in the castle themselves since they needed to be close to the animals. Thomas knew at least half a dozen of those who spent most of their times out in the fields were the type to forgot to maintain their homes because they preferred camping amongst the animals in the summer months and then would be in for a bad time when snow began to fall.

 There should be enough extra rooms in the castle if they needed a place to stay until repairs could be done.

Those conversations took a good couple of hours, before Thomas was satisfied. Before trudging back to the castle through the still falling snow, he made a point to stop at one specific horse stall in the main stable. The horse turned his head to see Thomas when he stopped in front of his stall and puffed out a rather disaffected snort before sticking his head over the gate so Thomas could pat his nose. “Hello, Mr. Apples,” Thomas said.

 The horse seemed to conclude he’d tolerated Thomas’s petting enough and ducked his head to nudge at his torso. Thomas rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes,” he said. “I brought you an apple. Some things never change.” He reached into his pocket to grab the red apple he’d brought the white Arabian. “At least you don’t bite me anymore.” He paused, apple slice in hand and eyed the horse’s nose suspiciously. “Do not bite me,” he said even though he hadn’t felt the animal’s teeth in a decade. It would be just like Mr. Apples to wait until his guard was down.

 After a bit of scrutiny, he offered an apple slice. It was snatched out of his hand and there was a loud crunch as it was bit into.

“It’s snowing out,” he told the horse. The horse seemed to roll his eyes at the statement of the obvious. “I’ll remind again that if you run out in a snowstorm, I’m not running after you, so you’d be out of luck.”

Mr. Apples snorted.

“You’re old now. You’d probably not survive long enough for people to find you. Besides, you blend in with that white fur of yours. They’d probably walk right past you a few times.”

 He went back to nosing for treats as soon as he finished his first and Thomas sighed, pulling out another apple slice. “What are they not feeding you enough?” The gusto with which the horse snatched the apple slice was a very clear answer. “Well, we both know that’s not true.” Thomas fed the horse a third slice of apple when he was done with his second. “I have to get back to the castle now. Don’t be a devil horse.”

Mr. Apples threw his head a bit, splattering apple smelling foamy spittle all over Thomas’s front.

“Understood. Have a nice afternoon.”

 He left Mr. Apples in his stall then, knowing he’d be well cared for no matter how ill-tempered he could be at times. He’d been a king’s horse once, after all, no matter that said king had been dead for more than a decade now.

Winters were hard.

Winters were the times when things always slowed down at the castle, where royal duties were often thin. There were a lot of memories in winter.

The trip back to the castle was not particularly long, but it was also not particularly pleasant. The snow had not been cleared away considering it was still snowing which meant his feet and legs were wet and cold by the time he made it to the nearest castle door.

 He wasn’t sure if, when he entered, the castle heating runes had started to work in earnest or if he’d just been so cold that any measure of warmth was appreciated, but he was relieved to be out of the snow either way.

He decided to check up on the progress of the castle staff lighting the fireplaces. With any luck, they’d be lit already, and he could warm up even more. That in mind, he headed towards the main foyer where the largest fireplace in the castle sat to take off the chill brought in by the large front doors.

 The main foyer was bustling with activity when he snuck in along the sides, giving the guards stationed around nods as he passed. The main fire in the room was burning brightly, though only one of the two smaller ones near the side exits from the room was lit. The other one was still being set up with safety mechanisms. It was good progress and assuming other areas of the castle were being set up as efficiently, he assumed they’d all be set up by nightfall.

He’d need to go check around to be sure, but for now, he walked up to the main fireplace to warm his hands.

 He’d gotten into the habit when he was younger to every so often glance upwards. There had been a certain stable boy who had a propensity for climbing trees. These days, he usually found nothing when he did so, often not even consciously noticing that he’d turned his gaze momentarily skywards. Yet, today, he was startled out of his own idleness by dark brown eyes looking back at him from a small ledge in the shadows high above him.

He froze as he met the young boy’s gaze. Virgil seemed as surprised to be caught as Thomas was to have caught him.

[gundamcalibarney]

Green Arrow having conversations (ft. a few other engines)

that’s it, that’s the whole thing.

reblogs are appreciated!

(story below the readmore)

1963

“So Spencer,” Green Arrow started, the record breaking A4 gave him a look. “how is he?”

the A4 scoffed, “still as pompous as ever, he doesn’t shut up about being the Duke and Duchess’s private engine, he told me about how Sodor’s stuck in it’s old ways, but i think he means that in ‘there aren’t any A4s!’ kind of way.”

Green Arrow , “is that so. well i do hope to visit the island one day, i heard that it’s really nice there!”

“oh yes, i’ve heard Scot talk about it, though it’s mostly relating to Cousin Gordon.” Mallard huffed. “i heard that a lot of weird shit goes on there.”

“like what?”

“ghost sightings, accidents caused by non-locomotive rolling stock, somehow they got liveries from every colour of rainbow…” Mallard listed off. “just a lot of stuff.”

“well that sounds lovely!” Green Arrow exclaimed cheerfully.

if he had a drink Mallard would spit it out in shock, “What? you call a crash caused by trucks Lovely?”

“it definitely sounds more exciting there than here if i’m going to be frank.” Green Arrow chuckled. “and how’s being the record breaker hm?”

“Cousin Gordon’s dome’s going to fly off trying to beat 126 miles.” Mallard joked.

“you mean that metaphorically yes?”

Mallard then remembered the City of Truro telling him something along those lines,

“when i went to Sodor i was told by the press that the NRW’s number 4’s top blew off while he was attempting to run 100 miles per hour, i can’t really hold anything against him though since i get where he’s coming from, i think i would’ve done the same!”

“…uh huh.”

1990

the No. 1 Sudrian tank engine approached the green V2, “you’re a cousin of Gordon right?”

“oh yes indeed i am!” Green Arrow smiled. “how is that big sausage anyway?”

Thomas’ face flushed angrily, “Jealous of me that’s what!”

Green Arrow raised a brow, “really?”

“probably because I’M here and not him, surrounded by Famous engines and all.” Thomas groaned.

“he’d probably boast about being with Famous and Well known engines like you and practically everyone else here!” Thomas ranted.

the V2 chuckled, “it would be more of a begrudging family reunion than anything, especially on Spencer and Gordon’s part.”

“so what were you like before all this preservation and dieselation stuff?” Thomas asked to get his mind off of Gordon.

Green Arrow let out a laugh, though it didn’t feel like a very humorous one, or a very happy one,

“my siblings and i were built to run fast good trains,” he said. “but we did it So well that they let us pull expresses in the end.”

“now i’m the only of my sort left.” he ended off with a sigh, his face now showing a combination of pain and nostalgia.

2010

“So how’s permanent retirement doing for you so far.” Mallard asked his cousin.

“not going too bad so far.” Green Arrow answered in a chipper tone.

“no hard feelings about being a static display?” Mallard questioned.

“not really, why do you ask?”

“Arrow you’re basically stuck, in One place, for the rest of your life.” Mallard emphasised slowly. “then again considering you it can certainly be no worse than what happened with Jackson.”

“how is he as of now?” Green Arrow asked, concern laced in his voice.

“in a dour mood, as in a Really dour mood, can’t really blame him though.” Mallard informed.

Green Arrow’s face fell, “ah, well tell him i send my regards.”

“yeah i will.” Mallard responded.

2012

“it’s nice to see some of the other Gresleys here.” smiled Green Arrow.

“and the baby.” Riley noted, her tone sharp and rather hard, The Great Marquess snickering and Mallard rolling his eyes.

Green Arrow noticed Tornado’s cheeks flushing red and their eyes darting away, “Well i agree that they’re a young one, but i think they’re a nice engine, sure they’re not a Gresley but who says you need to be one to be a good engine?”

Riley scoffed at Green Arrow’s words, Tornado was shocked indeed, the V2 gave the new build a wink and smile.

“besides there are a lot of not-Gresleys here Riley.” Green Arrow added.

“also Riley, just shut up.” Mallard deadpanned, Green Arrow frowned at the addition.

“Mallard!” Arrow called out in a scolding tone, the blue A4 rolling his eyes while the new build giggled.

2021

“how are you taking the move so far?” no. 251 asked.

“it’s a bit cramped but i can manage, i can’t believe they got ol’ Cock o’ the North’s nameplate, and it Is nice to be back in Doncaster.” Green Arrow replied with a smile.

“say i’ve heard the people who made Tornado are making a new P2 engine.” no. 251 mentioned.

“oh yes i’ve known, Tornado told me about the new build P2 a couple years back, Prince of Wales i’ve heard.” Green Arrow noted.

“Which means i’m getting a step-cousin, and then after that they’ll make a Thompson B1!”

“so basically the big three LNERs?” no. 251 asked. “like, Gresley,Thompson, and Peppercorn?”

“Most likely!” Green Arrow smiled.

a brief pause between the two green engines.

“say we’re going to be here for the next 3 years right?” no. 251 then asked.

“Indeed, which means we’ll be stuck with each other for a while.” remarked Green Arrow.

Well this’ll be a nice 3 years.

[mysticpetals]

Lovebug

Pairing: Jake × MC

Genre: fluff, humor

Word count: 1.5k

A/N: I really loved writing this one! Let me know what you think of the second person pov? Or do you prefer third person? Comments and reblogs are really really appreciated!!

Anonymous asked: 12. “He’s so pretty I think I’m gonna faint.” It’s MC x Jake, but the group (or whoever 😂) are in confusion over MCs sudden deep attraction for a random guy. Please? 🥰

Your college group might be extra but you love them to death. Now, only if the object of your affections also saw their kind heart behind all the craziness, your life would be complete.

It had been a busy month for you and your friends, swamped with exams and assignments but it had finally ended today. Jessy was already sending everyone snaps about freedom and the rest of the group was lazing around on the grass. You had your back propped up against a tree and were talking to your mom about how the last exam went.

Hannah and Thomas were already lost in their own little world and Richy had already started annoying Dan, if the irritated expression on his face was anything to go by. As soon as your call ended, Jessy got up and cleared her throat to get everyone's attention. Only you looked up at her, the rest too busy with their shenanigans to notice her.

She gave you a disbelieving look as if to say, 'can you believe this?' and you smiled at her quickly reddening face.

"Hey, you morons! I'm trying to say something here!"

Her voice was so loud, it made some of the other students who were hanging around, look at your group with raised eyebrows. Embarrassed about her outburst, she quickly sat down again, this time with everyone's attention on her. She huffed in discontent, muttering about how it wouldn't have happened if they'd just listened to her the first time.

"Uh, Jessy? What did you want to say?" You asked and she perked up once again.

"Oh yeah! Guys, let's celebrate our new found freedom and go to Cherries!" She exclaimed.

Cherries was the cafe just outside the college campus and was the most popular spot for dates and group hangouts. Everyone loved to go there, as it had the best menu and the sweetest owner. Another plus was that since everyone went there, chances to stalk or bump into your crush were very high.

"Oh! That's a good idea." Richy nodded in support.

"Anything that'll get me out of his bullshit." Dan pointed a thumb at Richy, who only gave him a grin.

"Let's go then," Thomas said.

In no time, you all had occupied a corner table and were chatting up a storm, the other patrons giving you amused or annoyed looks.

"All I'm saying is, you did good filing a restraining order against that stalker," Richy told Hannah who smiled in reply.

"Yeah, all the creeping around and threats were getting a little too much," Hannah agreed as Thomas frowned.

"I'm just glad that you're safe now," he said, which had Hannah giving him a kiss and making Dan groan.

"Can you not do that in front of us?"

Richy nodded his head in agreement and Hannah only smirked in response, once again pulling Thomas to her.

Soon enough, your orders arrived and everyone busied themselves with eating, occasionally making jokes.

While everyone was eating, your eyes drifted off to Jake who had entered soon after your group. He was alone, with his laptop opened in front of him and busy typing. His eyes met yours for a moment and he gave you a wink which had you chuckling.

"What? What is it?" Jessy asked, eyes trailing over to where you were looking.

And before you could think about what you're saying, you had already started speaking.

"He's so pretty, I think I'm gonna faint," you said, still looking at Jake.

Jessy gasped and you finally turned your head towards her, and noticed that everyone was looking at you.

"What?" You squirmed, suddenly feeling self conscious.

"Did you just tell us who you like? Is that him?" Jessy asked.

Oh yeah. None of the others knew about your relationship with Jake. You had started off from a few odd encounters here and there and before you knew it, you had started talking and over time, it bloomed into a beautiful friendship. Jake had social anxiety and was pretty worried about meeting your friends, who you knew were a colorful bunch. So you had suggested to keep your friendship on a down low until he was comfortable enough to approach and spend time with them.

Hannah and Jessy were trying to get you to like and possibly date someone and to stop their eager matchmaking, you let it slip that you already had a crush on someone. You never revealed the name though, but judging by Hannah's knowing look, you were pretty sure they would figure it out with an Instagram search.

"Yes, that's him," you sighed, "but don't bring it up to him, please."

"So you're into dark and mysterious guys, huh?" Richy asked, pointedly looking at Jake's black hoodie.

"I guess so." You laughed and the sound made Jake look up from his laptop, seeing you enjoy your time with your friends. He felt a pang in his heart when he thought about how you might never be like this with him. The time you spent with him was mostly filled with comfortable silence and warm touches, and he loved that, but he wanted to laugh and joke around with you too, not just in private but with everyone seeing how well you got along with each other.

So with thought in mind, he started packing his stuff and got up, swinging his bag around one shoulder and approached your table. Thomas noticed him first and nudged you to look over.

You turned over and immediately straightened, a questioning gleam in your eyes. Maybe he should have discussed it with you first?

He greeted you with a hello, smiling a little at the rest of your friends who returned them with slight apprehension and looked at you once again.

"We're still on for tomorrow, right?" He asked and you could feel everyone's piercing eyes on you. Even Dan raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"Ah, yes, of course. I'll text you?" You said, confusion lacing your tone. You had never cancelled a hangout with him before, so you were curious as to what brought this on.

"Great. I'll see you tomorrow." He smiled and made his way towards the door, with his heart pounding in his chest. He just talked to you in front of your friends, and was surprised he hadn't wanted to run away. Maybe because you talked so much about them, he might have been getting a little comfortable with the idea of hanging out with them.

As soon as he was out, Richy turned on you so fast, it gave you whiplash.

"You little fox, what have you been doing behind our back?" He grinned and you groaned in reply, covering your face in your hands.

"Oh? Isn't it?" Thomas teased from beside Hannah who was looking at you in bewilderment. Seems like she hadn't processed what had happened.

Jessy shoved you playfully and then put an arm around your shoulder.

"It seems she didn't need our help after all."

"No, that's not what—" you started but we're interrupted by Dan.

"You know what they say, it's the quiet ones who you have to look out for."

"Ugh, guys it's seriously not like that," you said.

"So what is it like?" Richy asked eagerly and you sighed, knowing you'd have to tell them the whole story. After shooting a quick text to Jake, asking whether it was okay to tell them and him replying in an affirmation, you flagged a waitress and asked for coffee for everyone.

"Oh, that good of a story huh?" Hannah teased and you shook your head, smiling.

After telling them about the whole thing, giving special attention to the fact that you were only friends and Jake did not know of your feelings, and had social anxiety so that's why he didn't go out much, you waited for their response.

"So you do need our help, after all." Jessy nodded.

You looked at her in disbelief.

"That's all you got out of it?" You asked.

"We also got that there's a high chance he feels the same but is scared of being judged or losing you as a friend," Dan said.

"I don't know…." You trailed off uncertainly and Hannah patted your hand.

"Don't worry, we understand your dilemma and will help you."

"Help me?" You asked, tilting your head in confusion.

"Oh yeah, you're gonna have to introduce him to the family one day, no? We promise we'll behave," he smiled innocently.

You were pretty sure they were going to do something embarrassing but you were more worried about why Jake had done that. Was he saying he was ready to meet them? If so, you couldn't wait to introduce him to everyone. And if he didn't reciprocate your feelings, you were pretty content with him being your friend.

Only time would tell what fate had in store for you two.

[hecohansen31]

Not The Right Time

The Story Of How Everything Went On:

Ivar+Reader (Modern! AU).

(Masterlist) (Previous Chapter)

(A/N): Hello there, lovelies!

This chapter is mostly a filler, because I wasn’t emotionally and physically ready to write what comes next, hence I felt like I still had to give out some infos, mostly about Ivar’s family and Reader’s feelings.

I really hope that you’ll enjoy it, although it isn’t a proper fullfilling chapter!

As always: FEEDBACK IS VERY VERY USEFUL!

Us writers don’t write for you certainly, but we do pubblish stuff for you, hence a simple comment or a reblog with something written might CHANGE  a person’s day.

You are never annoying and us writers treasure your comments (they might out heart beat and our fingers write faster).

SUMMARY: New revelations and new act of faiths might get you more confused about your newborn feelings for the father of your child.

WORDS: 9, 4 K

WARNINGS: Pregnancy, Unexpected Pregnancy, Pregnancy at a Young Age, Mention of Abortion (and Being Harsh About it), Heartbreak and General Angst, Abandonement Issues and Being A Single Mom, Mention of Infertility, Talk about Custody Battles and Custody, Fighting and Angst, Use of The Word Cripple.

Ivar had never had much luck with women.

But he had been blessed with a beautiful mother.

Aslaug was someone who would cherish her sons to the end of the world, blessed with four of them.

But they had not been four normal boys, but four constantly fighting men who wouldn’t hesitate a moment to give her an heart attack.

And although many more times it was Hvitserk, the bearer of bad news, this time it had to be him.

And what he might have to tell was worse than Hvitserk that time he had decided to open a bakery with his father’s money.

So, he thought it would have been better to tell her that he had a child, when she was sat down.

“Mom” he called out to her, as she moved around the kitchen checking that dishes were in their proper places and made sure sure that not a single crumb of bread was left in her kitchen.

She had always been a bit of a clean freak, but it had grown worse once they had all moved out of the house, mostly because of the fact that sadly she hadn’t much to do, having been an housewife all her life, although lately she had started to care for her garden.

And her roses looked the absolute prettiest.

He had thought that Eric would have loved playing there.

He might have suggested maybe getting it fixed with a swing or a soccer field for his son and his nephews, he was sure that Ubbe would have backed him up on that, although he was sure that he would have certainly gawked at the mention that Ivar had a child.

A child that wasn’t Freydis’.

A child that was with you, his best friend and high school sweetheart.

Yeah, he was sure that Aslaug would have had a heart attack, upon hearing it.

She had already had one when he had announced his engagement to Freydis.

She had come to him, meanwhile all the others congratulated Freydis and although she hadn’t explicitly told him that she didn’t approve it, she had tried to question him about it.

‘Are you sure, sweetheart?’

‘Because you are both so young’.

‘… and you haven’t been with each other for such a long time’.

‘Mom, you ran away with dad just a few days after you had met him’ he had interrupted her, not fully understanding why his own mother among all the people wouldn’t support his happiness.

‘Yes, that I did’ her face had scrunched up in a grimace ‘… and I have regretted it for the entire time. I just… I just wouldn’t want you the same mistake I did’.

And now he had to tell her that he had a five-year-old child, with another woman.

Well, she certainly would have been surprised.

Once she was sure there weren’t anything outside of its rightful place, she sat down onto the table, inviting him to do the same, as she interlaced her fingers with his, excited to know what her youngest was up to.

They had always been quite attached to the other, and he couldn’t picture his small family without her.

Hence, he had to confess her two things.

“… you remember that I and Freydis have been trying to have a child, right?” he started, thinking that this would be far less a surprise than him admitting that he had put a baby in you.

Aslaug already looked like she knew exactly where this was going.

She had always been far smarter than she let on.

She was the one reason why Ragnar hadn’t died in his thirties.

And why all her sons had reached maturity.

This honestly gave her amazing powers.

And he trusted her judgement.

“Freydis is pregnant, the last lab sample worked”.

Although Aslaugh didn’t look amazingly happy, she still smiled softly, as she brought him in a soft hug, kissing his forehead and congratulating him, glad to have more grandchildren, which had quickly become the joy of her life.

She had already loved Ubbe-but-truly-they-were-Bjorn’s child, and she had been trying to convince her still-single sons to settle down and give her more grandchildren.

(‘I might have already’ had mumbled Hvitserk, with a small smirk, before Aslaug had slapped him on the head and gave him a lesson on condoms).

(Ivar might have needed it, too).

So, even if she didn’t like Freydis, she would have loved her grandchild.

“Is Freydis alright?” she asked, moving with a full-on questioning “… has she already gone to some visits? Do you know the gender?”.

“Mom, she’s barely a few months along!” he tried to calm her down, although he was happy that his mother was so so excited about it.

“Sorry sweetie, but you know when I was pregnant with Ubbe that it’d be a boy” she commented softly “… hasn’t she felt anything? Has she?”.

“… and that isn’t the only news I have for you”.

And now came the hard part.

And Aslaug immediately noticed his uneasiness, and her hands moved away from his, as they gently caressed his face to make him stare at her in the eyes, trying to search them to understand what was going on in his mind.

She had always been extremely good at understanding him before even him himself.

But he honestly was sure that she would have never guessed the other news.

She had seen your relationship with you coming, and she had encouraged him to follow his crush.

Still she had tried to keep herself away from meddling with it, pushing herself in a rather cold attitude with you that had made you many times question yourself.

‘Are you sure that your mother doesn’t hate me’ you had questioned him once, when you had come to his house to hang out.

‘No, she just doesn’t like people’ he had replied, as he had tried to get you to sit on his lap, to calm you down.

‘… now I know where you got that’ you had mumbled, as you had finally allowed him to wrap his arms softly around your waist ‘… but still… I really hope that she doesn’t think badly of me’.

‘You shouldn’t worry of anybody’s opinion…’ he had muttered, as he had lightly shifted your hair to the side to kiss your neck ‘… except mine’.

‘But… I’m worried, about her opinion… I don’t want you to…’.

‘Sweetheart calm down!’ he had mumbled, kissing softly your lips ‘… nobody will make me change my mind’.

Yeah, that hadn’t been exactly true.

And he hated himself for it.

You were right in hating him.

Although lately you had been rather cordial towards each other and he would have dared saying that you were almost friends.

In the end he appreciated that you were nice with him for Eric’s sake.

“… mom I hope… this is something that is new also to me, but… I have a child” Aslaug looked at him confused, almost as if she expected him to either joke or clarify himself “… you remember (Y/N), right?”.

“Such a sweetheart” her smile pushed their tips in a light smirk “… but what does she have to do with all of this?”.

“I have a child with her” all the color was suddenly drained by Aslaug’s face “… we had sex on prom night, and I got her pregnant… and she didn’t tell me about the child till a few weeks ago”.

“Ivar Axel Lothbrock!” she exclaimed loudly, as she jumped up from the chair, which fell off because of the suddenness “… I didn’t think that this would be happening with you!”.

“Mom, calm down” Ivar tried to keep her quiet, not wanting his brothers to know about it, till he had talked it out firstly with his mother “… don’t strain yourself”.

“I thought it might happen with Hvitserk, I mean that boy… is a pest, but… you?!”.

“I know that I disappointed you” this seemed to calm her down, as she turned to face Ivar, who had ducked his down, incased between his shoulder blades, as if it weighted onto them.

“I am… just… surprised” she mumbled “… for how long have you hidden this from me?”.

“Not long, a month max, but… to my defense, I also discovered it recently” Ivar explained, as he felt his mom calming down a bit, as if she realized this situation wouldn’t go away.

So, she’d better accepting it quickly.

“You know that I and (Y/N)  didn’t leave each other on the best terms…” because as much as you might have been heartbroken by him, he had been ten times grumpier than usually at your refusal of being contacted by him, after the ‘break-up’.

Now that he had calmed down, he thought that you had just done the best thing you could have done to protect yourself.

You were still doing it, whenever you’d retract from him, once the conversation between you two got too personal.

“… she hid the pregnancy because she was sure that I didn’t want to be a father, and… she has then moved away”.

“Yeah yeah, I remember, I was honestly surprised that they’d be moving, but I guess she just needed a bit of time and to get away” mused Aslaug, almost as if she knew herself “… does the baby…?”:

“Yeah, he was born with osteogenesis” he explained, his mother’s face softening, as she lightly retreated from him, almost hurt by it, and he thought honestly the worst of everything.

“… poor boy” she mumbled “… and poor (Y/N), things like this aren’t easy, even more when you are a single mother”.

And Ivar understood that she spoke from experience.

And that was what was making her so emotional.

It was like going through it again.

“She is very strong and she has taken care of him amazingly” he explained softly, trying to calm his mother, as Aslaug moved again closer, her eyes slightly shiny “… he is five… we are trying to set up this thing to be able to give him both a father and a mother”.

“Do you have a picture?” Aslaug’s voice was choked, and Ivar hurried to get his phone out “… I really would like to see my grandchild”.

He didn’t want to break her heart correcting her that he wasn’t sure you’d be approving of her calling Eric ‘her grandchild’ when you already had difficulties in accepting that Eric called him ‘dad’ now.

But for the moment, he had already had a rather traumatic discourse with his mother.

So, he got his phone out and showed him a few pictures of Eric he had taken from the last time they had hanged out together, at a park, where Eric had tried out a few goalkeeper’s moves with his dad, under your watchful gaze, although you had given the two boys a bit of alone time, going to grab a few things in the nearby stores.

In the photo Eric was standing on the bench, adjusting his braces, as he waved at Ivar.

And they also had one that you had taken of them together, after Eric pleaded you so that he could show ‘how cool his dad was’ to all his friends, something that had made you grimace a bit, but he had teared up a bit.

And so, did Aslaug as she saw it.

“… Gosh, he looks so adorable!” she commented, as she brought an hand to her mouth in surprise, a bit smile still appearing on it “… he seems a lot like you, when you were younger”.

“I do agree, but not the entire personality… you won’t believe it, but… he is all smiles and sweet words” he mumbled as Aslaug laughed lightly, looking at her son, before a bright light shone on her face.

And Ivar got worried.

“You should invite her for Thanksgiving” it wasn’t a proposal, it was an order “… she was always such a nice girl, well-mannered and sweet… I was surprised when she distanced herself…”.

“… mom, calm down” he told her “… we might have child together, but that doesn’t mean that we are together and that she’ll want to meet you”.

Honestly, his mother had been more excited about (Y/N) than Freydis.

And it was worrying that he too honestly had been also excited at the thought of you and Eric spending Thanksgiving with his family.

Like a true family.

Aslaug looked like a child who had been denied candies.

“Sweetie…” she softened her tone “… I understand the situation, but I’d like to meet my grandchild, obviously with her consent”.

He thought that asking you, wouldn’t have been certainly a bad idea.

Although he was already seeing your denial.

But worst of all: what would have Freydis thought about it?

Although she hadn’t made a huge deal anymore about Eric and you, preferring to just sweep the entire thing under the carpet, and focusing on her own pregnancy, she certainly wouldn’t have been too happy of this.

Even more when she had also been able to sense that Aslaug didn’t like her in the slightest.

But unlike you, she hadn’t bothered trying to impress Aslaug in the slightest.

She certainly respected her, but that was the end of it for her.

She had had Ivar in the end.

“… I’ll ask her, still don’t get your hopes too high” he tried to shut her expectations down, but Aslaug honestly looked like she had been given her Christmas’ gift before time.

“Ahhh, I already can’t believe that my youngest gave me a grandchild first” she commented, already too lost in her thoughts with a beautiful smile on her face “… can’t believe that he is also a sweetheart, don’t you have more photos with him?”.

And he let her watch a few more, before he caught somebody on the entrance of the kitchen, realizing that it was Sigurd, who sent him a rather dark look, as if saying ‘I want to talk with you’.

He left his mother, with the promise of telling her more about Eric, as he moved to join his brother for what he thought would be another sparring of wits, but Sigurd looked much more determined than usual.

“You got her pregnant?” he asked, and before Ivar knew it, his brother had quickly backed him up into a wall “… as if it wasn’t enough already breaking her heart”.

“You have no business in this, brother” he tried to advise him, molding his tone to be the coldest “… believe me”.

“No, I fucking have a lot of business in this…” he spoke, overcoming his voice, definitely bothered by all of this “… she used to be my best friend, and she fucking left the city, because you ruined her life!”.

“I didn’t ruin her life” he replied harshly, trying to push Sigurd away from him.

“Oh yeah… have you any idea how heartbroken she must have been for the fucking heartless joke you played on her, years ago? And think all of this multiplied because she got a baby from you, and baby that she took care on her own”.

Sigurd wasn’t wrong.

But if there was one thing that Ivar couldn’t stand in the slightest, was being put in front of his mistakes.

And being blamed so outwardly for it didn’t help you in the slightest.

“… it isn’t my fault that she didn’t tell me” he tried to reply, but it wasn’t of much help.

“I don’t blame her for that” Sigurd sneered at him “… I wouldn’t also to have a fucking screw up like you around my child”.

Ivar lurched for him, but he wasn’t able to do much, instead stumbling onto and almost falling in his face, barely able to see his brother running away from him.

But his words echoed in his head.

Because in the end…

… he wasn’t wrong.

---

You tried to adapt yourself to the thought of having to spend an entire day without Eric.

Which was something that you hadn’t had since you had become a mother.

And honestly, it scared you to death.

You had never been too far away from your child, at least not for an entire day, because no matter how tired you were, you’d stop at Eric’s room to kiss him and check on him.

And now you’d have to give him over for an entire day to Ivar.

You honestly didn’t want to do such thing, in the slightest.

He had suggested it, after it had been quite some time that he and Eric met and spent time, together.

Enough to convince you that he’d stay in Eric’s life.

And yours.

But yet, your irrational fears as a mother didn’t ease your mind and you felt horridly hollow at the sole thought of having to say goodbye to Eric, who was getting his backpack ready for the following day.

He had been so excited to spend the whole day and night with his dad that he had been counting down the days, constantly talking about what they’d do and how much ice cream he’d eat.

And you had had to send Ivar various texts on not letting Eric guilt-trip him into letting him eat what he wanted.

‘He’s very very cute, but you don’t have to give in to him’ and then you had followed up with ‘… you can do it, I have survived five years of this and so can you’.

You were also a bit worried for Freydis, mostly because as much as Ivar trusted her, she was a stranger to you.

A stranger whose life you were ‘sabotaging’.

So. you were honestly worried about her being the typical ‘evil stepmother’ although Ivar had reassured you that she didn’t mind Eric.

But you knew how women worked.

They said they ‘didn’t mind it’ and then they were storms.

And you didn’t want your son to be caught in the eye of the cyclone.

You had called her the previous day to check in with her, although you had been scared shitless of approaching her, not wanting to seem either demanding or a homewrecker.

She had sounded extremely calm on the phone, but she hadn’t seemed to mind it all too much truly, although she had been sharply gentle with you, impatient to close the conversation but she hadn’t certainly closed the phone in your face, which meant that she wanted to keep a conversation between you, two.

For which you were grateful.

But you were giving her your most treasured possession, your son.

And you hoped she would treat him the best.

And part of you was jealous of how fast your son had latched on Ivar.

Although you shouldn’t have been surprised.

He was his father, after all.

Even though you weren’t sure that being this close to Ivar was helpful or a good thing, in general.

Old emotions had been awakened since Ivar had come back in your life.

You knew that you shouldn’t have felt so so ashamed of the flames of your previous relationship still burning in your chest, but it was so strong that you weren’t able to shake it off, even more when Ivar was such a good father for Eric.

You were trying to shift your emotion behind that reason, but you knew that your old attraction was burning up again and you didn’t want for it brew more inside of your mind.

Although there weren’t many solutions.

Except pushing yourself in work and trying to breath new air.

Which was why you were also low key thankful of having been allowed a bit of free air from Eric, grateful that you’d be able to spend the afternoon with Sigurd, who had been asking you for a few days for a private meeting between you two.

‘It’s been too long since we last see each other, and now that we are in the same city, it’d be a shame for us to waste more space apart’.

And then Angelika had been already ordering a private booth in a small club, to pass the night as true single moms.

And although you didn’t want any quick hook-up, meeting new people might do you good.

At least to break the spell that Ivar had set on you.

Again.

You tried to ease the anxiety in your chest, as you finished folding Eric’s clothes, going to check out on him as you found him trying to push a few of his favorite toys in the already too big backpack.

“Are you sure that you’ll need all these toys?” you asked softly, with a small smirk, brightened by seeing that Eric hadn’t changed yet.

Change scared mothers, because it was a sign of growing up and your sunshine-beauty of a child, would soon be a grumpy teenager and even sooner, he’d be a man leaving your house.

And as much as you understood that it was normal and healthy, you’d miss your sweet boy.

“Yeah! Of course! I want to show dad all the cool stuff I have!” he muttered as if it was the most natural thing ever with Ivar’s determination shining in his eyes.

“Ahhh I don’t think that you’d need still to bring to dad your Avengers’ tower” you mumbled softly, fishing out the huge toy that didn’t allow his backpack to close, making him pout at you “… or maybe we could stuff it in another backpack?”.

“Yeah, I think that is the best option” he replied softly, with a thoughtful expression that made you push a few strands away from his face, as you raised lightly his chin to look at him in the eyes.

“You know that I love you more than everything in the universe?” you asked softly, crooking an eyebrow at him, who immediately moved to hug tightly your middle, as he smashed his face roughly on your stomach.

But you needed that contact.

And you were already on the verge of your tears.

“… you are my mom, of course I love you!” he mumbled, his voice lightly muffled by your clothes.

You wanted to tell him that you weren’t sure that he’d think that when he was some angsty teenager, but for now you beamed in your child’s sweetness, hoping that it’d stick with you for quite a bit.

At least it did brighten your day.

You moved to separate the toys that you would have to put in the new backpack, as you tried to remind him what he had to do when he arrived home.

‘Don’t forget to give Freydis the gift’ you reminded him, as you made sure that he had taken it, finding the small picture frame you had gotten her, as a peace offer ‘… and if you don’t feel comfortable, all you have to do is ask your dad to call me, ok?’.

‘Okie dokie, mom’ he muttered with a fake-annoyed tone, which made you smirk lightly at him, as you rushed to him to tickle him.

‘Did you just roll your eyes to me, young boy’ you teased him, as he tried to escape your grip, but you were stronger and eventually he just gave up, begging for forgiveness as you erupted in laughter.

‘… mom…’ he called out to you, as you both laid out on the bed ‘… I’ll miss you’.

You had to breathe deeply to stop yourself from crying, but eventually as you spoke up, your voice was still choked.

‘… I’ll miss you too, lovely’.

And then you rushed to finish getting ready, rushing to your car, as you helped Eric in the braces, making sure to have his pain medicine, a small note attached to it, although you had no doubt that Ivar was familiar with at least half of it.

You knew that he wouldn’t put Eric in harm’s way.

But still… mommy’s instincts were tough to fight.

As you arrived at Ivar’s apartment, you weren’t able to stop yourself from starting to panic internally, something that Eric probably felt, gripping your hand tighter to comfort you, something for which you were grateful.

You moved to the proper apartment, taking in the beautiful design of the house, much more expensive that the shithole you lived in, and much bigger, something that made you question as always if you had been stupid in denying Eric the life that Ivar could have offered him.

You were brought back by this as the door of the apartment opened to reveal a pretty blonde woman, dressed in a rather elegant assemble that complimented her lean body, matching her natural color.

You were honestly feeling a potato in your comfortable jeans and the hoodie of your high school.

“You must be (Y/N)” you nodded, almost as if it had been an order, although the blonde woman had been extremely gentle, a soft smile on her lips as she looked at Eric, who had moved behind you, trying to hide himself, a bit shy “… and you must be Eric, Ivar has told me a lot about you! Please enter”.

“Ahh thank you!” you mumbled softly, indeed coming inside, as you led Eric with you, trying to coo him out of his shyness bubble “… and please excuse Eric… he is a sweetheart, but a shy one”.

“Totally got that from his father” replied gently Freydis, no sign of the woman that had considered Eric’s baggage in sight, but you still didn’t feel comfortable talking with her alone.

“Is Ivar… out?” you didn’t want to sound annoying or demanding, but you wouldn’t have left Eric with her, because although she seemed the gentlest sweetheart, you didn’t know her fully.

Not as you did with Ivar.

“He is in his study, got a call at the very last minute” she explained, with a light huff “… always at his phone… that man”.

“He isn’t one for much fun” you joined in, remembering that about him also in high school “… all business and no pleasure… if I remember, right?”.

“That’s my fiancé” Freydis giggled and although she hadn’t meant anything harsher in her tone, her words were definitely sharp and cutting.

Telling you that Ivar was her fiancé although he might be Eric’s dad.

“… don’t worry, it won’t take too much” she then added, looking also at Eric, who had finally exited his shell and was looking at her with questioning eyes, wanting to definitely meet his dad and play games “… in the meanwhile, please do sit! And can I get you a drink?”.

“Ahem… no, I am actually meeting with a friend, for a coffee, but thank you”.

Polite and curtsy small talk, meaning nothing, because you couldn’t help but feel that, although Freydis wasn’t being actively mean with you, you were walking on a mined camp.

But Eric took in the offer of sitting, mostly because he wasn’t used to standing up too long after he had been sat in the car, plumping down on a chair with such noise that you couldn’t help but send him a reprimanding look, worried of what Freydis might think of that, but she was on the kitchen counter, pouring a bit of water for herself.

There weren’t much traces of her pregnancy, but a slight roundness on her, with her looking like the portrait of the ‘perfect and radiant pregnant woman’, whereas your pregnancy had been quite tough on you.

And as much as you were a bit jealous of her, you couldn’t help but be glad that she was having a nice pregnancy, because you knew how much of a mental and physical toll it could be.

Although it was absolutely worth in the end.

“… congratulations, by the way! I hope you won’t mind me saying it, but Ivar told me the great news” she wasn’t able to hide the surprise in his eyes, and you softened a bit more your tone “… the first three months are the rougher, believe me”.

And then you got used to feeling like a beached whale.

“… I really hope, I haven’t been sleeping a morning without…” and then she shot a slight look at Eric.

“I can’t truly believe it! You look stunning!” you tried to reassure her, avoiding thinking about the strangeness of this entire thing “… believe me when I was pregnant with this little monster, he wouldn’t let me do much more than to stand on the sofa”.

She laughed softly, and you couldn’t help but see why Ivar had fallen in love with her: she was a nice soft breeze of air, and he honestly deserved it, after everything that had gone through his life.

“… mom!” complained Eric, sending you an embarrassed look, as you and Freydis laughed softly.

And then he remembered about the gift, quickly getting it out of his backpack as he moved to reach Freydis halfway, who crouched down to the boy’s height and thanked him when she received the wrapped gift.

She unwrapped it quickly, as you held your breath, hoping she’d like it and wouldn’t treat your boy as her own Cinderella once you were out of the door.

She was extremely surprised by it, and seemed to quite like it, kissing Eric’s cheek to thank him, as he blushed redder, something that immediately reminded you of Ivar.

Who, almost as if he had been summoned, entered the room, in that moment.

Eric’s eyes immediately brightened as he rushed to him, making Ivar smirk as he brought him up in a swirling hug, which made you and Freydis screech in horror, both worried for your boys.

But then Ivar settled him down, smacking a sound kiss on his face as Eric washed it off, acting as ‘a true man’.

You’d have to have a talk with Eric about toxic masculinity.

“… hey champ!” Ivar mused, before he saluted you softly, shooting a small look at Freydis to check in with her, and she smiled stretching the smile on her face, as she tried to busy herself to move away, leaving you a bit of privacy “… sorry for being late, I had an urgent phone call”.

“Don’t worry” you shut him off slightly, because today you’d be trying to extinguish the small flames he had left in your heart “… I have left a change in his backpack, but if you need anything, my mom is at home and if you have any questions, you have my phone number…”.

“Gotcha, (Y/N)” he mumbled with a wicked look in his eyes.

“I am not being overbearing” you replied tightly, as he simply sent you a sarcastic look “… try having a child and then we’ll see, and I really hope it won’t turn in a girl or you won’t ever let her date”.

“Of course, I won’t… I know how horrible boys can be” and you couldn’t help but realize that he was talking about himself “… but in the meanwhile, get some fun, mother hen”.

“Please don’t lose my child” you teased him and he simply sent you an annoyed look, before it softened up once Eric asked him whether he could have ice cream, and Ivar agreed, ignoring blatantly your suggestion “… I’ll think about you as I sleep peacefully, meanwhile you are cursed with a little sugar-high demon”.

“Your mom just has the best humor, doesn’t she?” retorted Ivar as he and Eric shared a conspiratorial look, and you could just pout softly at them both.

“Ok, now I’ll go, and I’ll leave you to your male bonding” you gently mocked them “… have a nice time and you got my number”.

“Don’t worry, just have a relaxing day” he mumbled softly with a small look “… and if you have a quiet moment, tomorrow when you come and pick him up we could grab a coffee, I have a thing to ask you”.

Which spurred on your anxiety, but you nodded, giving one last kiss at Eric, who wiped it away trying to appear all tough again, but his eyes didn’t leave you till the door closed behind you.

The sound was so shocking that it hit you.

You wouldn’t have your son for an entire day, and it was already crushing your soul.

In the end you ran away, trying to think that you’d see him tomorrow.

And that right now you had a friend to meet.

And you hoped that’d make you feel better.

---

And how wrong were you.

Sigurd had arrived lightly late and from the start you had been able to catch the fact that he was nervous, but you had thought he was simply scared of meeting a friend he hadn’t seen in quite a bit of time.

And then you realized that he was actually irritated.        

And after the usual ‘hey how are you’ ‘long time no see’, he had gotten down to business.

“Why didn’t you tell me that Ivar and you had a child?”.

And you were taken aback, wondering how he had discovered it.

Ivar hadn’t told you anything, about having told his family about Eric.

You had both agreed upon not telling his brothers, although he had told you that he had wanted to communicate it to his mother, alongside Freydis’ pregnancy.

‘If she gets an heartattack don’t blame it on me’ you had muttered it when he had explained you his decision, and he had simply smirked back.

“… Sigurd… we weren’t on talking terms” you explained softly, because it was the truth.

Not only, since you had discovered of the pregnancy, you had distanced yourself from the Lothbrock family, but you were sure that if you had told anything to Sigurd he wouldn’t have been able to keep his mouth shut.

And you hadn’t wanted Ivar to know about your pregnancy, back then.

Sigurd had been one of your best friends back then, but he hadn’t also reached out to you when you had started distancing yourself after Ivar had broken your heart, so it wasn’t completely your fault and you told him to intimating him to lower his voice.

“… I came here to have a nice coffee with a friend who I haven’t seen in a lot of time” you explained, your voice grounding him back to reality “… not to be insulted for choices that he had no business in”.

That seemed to get to him, and he apologized with a dark look of sadness on his face.

Although he and Ivar were at each other’s throat 24/7, they were so so damnably similar that you understood completely why they constantly fought against each other.

They had both this pendant to assume the worst about others.

“… I am sorry, I just…” he looked at his hands to shift his gaze away from you “… I am shocked, I didn’t expect… that to happen… I mean… it’s Ivar… he has…”.

“Believe me, Sigurd, it worked, at least once” you commented, knowing where he was going at “… I have a lot of proof of it, if you are asking for confirmation”.

“No no, I know that, don’t worry” mumbled glowing red Sigurd “… it is just that… I mean… I just can’t believe that he got lucky enough to have a son with you and that… and that you chose not to let him know”.

“Sigurd, he told me that he didn’t love me, anymore” you explained to him “… that child was mine, and not his”.

“Then why are you allowing him to see Eric?” he inquired, with a raised brow.

“… because he is his father, as much as Ivar broke my heart” you explained and although at first you had found it difficult to say it, now it was as natural as breathing “… I don’t think that I need Ivar to raise Eric, but… I can’t hide him for ever, and Eric deserves to know”.

Sigurd nodded, as he seemed to think about it, before he finally let out a breath.

“I just… I just hoped he hadn’t chosen to break your heart” he mumbled, and you couldn’t help but agree “… like it’d have been nice to have you in our family and not that gold digger”.

“Sigurd!” you reprimanded him, immediately, with a rather harsh look at him.

“Oh c’mon! They have been together for a few months and she was like ‘let’s get married’ and then ‘let’s have a child’ “ mumbled annoyedly Sigurd.

“… or maybe she simply loves him” you commented, as Sigurd sent you a disbelieving look.

“… or she loves his money” he corrected you.

“Are you saying this because it is the truth? Or because you are jealous of Ivar?” you joked softly, kicking him under the table “… because if he is happy, you shouldn’t be this grumpy”.

“Are you seriously happy that he is moving on and making a family with somebody else?”.

The question stole your hair from your lungs, but you tried not to show it to him.

“… yes, of course, Sigurd!” you mumbled, trying to hype up your energy “… we were high school sweethearts, but an entire life has passed since then, I do understand that he has moved on. And I have, too”.

Except you hadn’t.

But you had to.

“I still think that he is a fucking idiot for leaving you” grumped out Sigurd, as he lowered his eyes, but some semblance of peace was regained, as you finally managed to shift the discourse away from Ivar’s stupidity.

Sigurd wanted to see Eric and you were more than happy to show him through photos, as he informed you that his mother did indeed know of Eric and was excited about the news and you couldn’t help but find it difficult to picture Mrs. Lothbrock excited.

She had always had this haughty air about her that made you feel at extreme unease with her, even more when you had started sneaking around with Ivar and each time she caught you in the house, she’d look at you with this stare ‘I know how badly you corrupted my son’.

You hadn’t thought that she’d have been ecstatic of knowing that you and Ivar had been irresponsible enough to have a child, but according to Sigurd, she wanted to meet her ‘grandchildren’.

Which brought literal chills to move down your spine.

You appreciated that she wanted to be involved, but at the same time… it was just too much.

And you had been glad when Sigurd had shifted the theme of the conversation onto himself, and you were all too happy to be distracted by his horrifying music career, as you teased him for it.

But this coffee left a bad taste in your mouth.

Because suddenly Eric wasn’t anymore your secret.

And as much as you were glad for more people around you…

… it also meant they might leave you.

And you’d be heartbroken again.

But it’d be worse now, because they’d also leave Eric heartbroken.

---

In the end Ivar found out that you were right: Eric was a monster after having eaten ice cream as an afternoon snack and after dinner, but Ivar honestly knew that he couldn’t deny his child much.

At least to make up for the lost time.

They had played all afternoon, after he had threatened Heahmund to tell him to avoid bothering him with anything work-related for the rest of the day, since he wanted to play with his son.

And played they did, going even outside in the small apartment’s private garden to try out some soccer moves, as Freydis got everything ready, pointedly avoiding to look at them, together.

What she didn’t say, except with her eyes was ‘… I don’t have a problem with your bastard, but I don’t want to be part of this… at least for now’.

But he had been rather thankful for your gentleness with Freydis and for the respect he had felt between you two.

He hadn’t honestly expected for it to go this well, so he wasn’t certainly going to complain.

Although he was tired, wanting to straight up go to bed, after he had managed to make Eric fall asleep, he still did his best to adjust the mess of toys in the sitting room, before he joined Freydis in their bed.

She was finishing up getting ready, dosing her body with her usual lotions, a soft smile filling the room in a rather pleasing matter, immediately relaxing him as he moved to the bed, keeping his keen eyes on her.

She was slender, maybe a bit more than you could ever be, and graceful enough that nothing in her seemed out of place, and she was damnably beautiful.

But strangely, she had no effect on him.

Although he had noticed her for her beauty when she had accidentally smashed a cup of coffee on him, as she was rushing to her first day of work, he couldn’t get further than that.

She was beautiful, sweet and gentle.

But at the same time there was almost a block between him and her.

And he hoped that the marriage and the baby might help him developing this relationship further, because right now he felt stuck.

And he knew that Freydis was feeling it too.

Even more since you and Eric had appeared again.

He could see it in the way she felt threatened by your appearance.

He sometimes wished that his stupid prick would just work, so that he could give Freydis a part of him properly.

But sadly, he couldn’t.

And Freydis’ badly hidden sadness didn’t help, as she set beside him in bed, comfortably.

“Did you have fun?” she asked softly, as she turned to him, meanwhile he plugged in his phone and set up the alarm for the following day, pretty late since it was Saturday.

“Yes, I did” he mumbled, as he unbuckled his braces, having helped Eric through his, before he got him to swallow his medicine “… it was tiring but satisfying”.

“It’ll be definitely useful for the future” commented gingerly Freydis, as she moved to grab one of his hands, and pushed it onto her barely rounded stomach, as she smiled up to him “… you seemed a pretty amazing dad with Eric”.

“Ahh I am just trying my best” he commented, as he moved to face her, finally slipping under the covers, as he switched off the main lights, keeping on only the lamp on the bedside table “… he is a sweet boy”.

“That he is” she replied, although he could see that Freydis’ face was a bit shadowed “… (Y/N) did an amazing thing… and all on her own!”.

He didn’t know why but Freydis’ words hit him profoundly, stroking a rage on his chest, because he couldn’t help but feel like they had a double-meaning.

As if they weren’t exactly truthful.

But he tried to ignore it.

Freydis had honestly every right to be angry at him for what had happened with you, and he’d tolerate it, because he had done wrong in not telling her and in keeping things from her.

But he wouldn’t regret you or Eric.

He certainly wouldn’t have, when speaking with Freydis seemed so insidious.

He remembered the soft exchange of words before you had left Eric to him, the easiness with which he was starting to speak with you again, as you smiled softly, taking care of your child as if it was the most brilliant thing ever.

Not that you didn’t have awkward moments.

But talking with you had always been as easy as breathing with him.

And he had thought that he would have felt the same with Freydis this, but slowly… he just…

He again hoped that the child and the wedding would change everything, because he was so damnably in love with Freydis: she was the woman of his dreams and the woman he had always wanted.

But at the same time, he couldn’t deny that some parts of him still loved you.

And that wasn’t something that was ever going to change now that you were with him.

And this might be quite troublesome.

He brought Freydis closer to him, softly shushing her and wishing her ‘goodnight’, as he switched off the lamp on the bedside table and tried to rest his mind.

But sadly, there wasn’t any rest for the wicked.

---

The following morning you came to pick up Eric.

You didn’t look exactly ‘awake’, but from the look on your face and the huge sunglasses you were wearing, Ivar assumed that you had probably partied a bit last night.

And some part of him, which he quickly shoved down, couldn’t help but be… jealous and possessive of you, although he laid no claim to you.

You were a free woman, who was more than allowed to do what you wanted.

And he had a fiancé.

And a child on the way.

And yet he asked himself whether you had been hanging out with a simple friend or you had brought somebody home.

He justified as simple worry for Eric and his wellbeing.

He didn’t want him to grow among unknown men crashing on your couch.

As Freydis saw you, she immediately offered you coffee again, being shut down by a soft ‘no’, as Eric immediately appeared in the kitchen in his superhero pajama, shooting himself in your arms, as you giggled a bit startled.

“Hey, little captain America, I was gone just for a day” but with the way your lips crooked up he knew that you were happy that he had missed you “… but I am glad to see you too”.

And then you shot up a quick look at Freydis and Ivar, who were sat down on the kitchen table readying everything for breakfast.

“… I hope he wasn’t too much to handle” you apologized softly as he gently asked to be picked up, which you did as if it was the most normal thing.

“He was a complete sweetheart” answered Freydis for both, because Ivar was completely taken aback by the motherly charm you were exuding, interrupted by Freydis’ loving hands settling on his “… wasn’t he?”.

“He was” added Ivar, as he insisted for you to join them for breakfast, since Eric had woken up late, alongside his parents, so it’d take him a bit for getting ready “… and you really look like you could use a cup of coffee”.

“… maybe” you agreed, eventually letting go of your monkey who set himself on the table, meanwhile Freydis collected another chair for you, as she asked to Eric what he preferred to eat for breakfast.

“… and you aren’t allowed to say ice cream” reprimanded him softly Ivar, immediately getting a pout from his child, showing him that a bit of ‘his most annoying’ genes had been passed down to the boy, alongside his pretty eyes “… but we have the corn flakes you like, don’t we Freydis?”.

The woman immediately nodded, as she passed you the chair, for which you thanked her, asking if you could help her with something, as she asked if you could help her with coffee, already getting a few mugs out.

The breakfast was calm, although an awkward silence filled the air, meanwhile you spoke softly with Eric, checking if he had taken his medicine and if his legs had hurt the previous night, as he excitedly told you about how he had taught Ivar new soccer moves.

“Oh it is good that you are making him do some exercise” you mumbled jokingly, as you turned to Ivar “… or he wouldn’t get enough nonr, he used to avoid PE as if it was the plague”.

“That was low” replied Ivar darkly, but his eyes sparkled with amusement, as he felt Freydis scrunching up her eyebrows, unaware of this, as Eric just asked if he could also ‘skip PE’.

“… and it backfired” you commented as you proceeded to explain to Eric the importance of PE, as Freydis kept on throwing daggers at Ivar, with her eyes, which he ignored, till you eventually had to leave, offering to help Eric pack up.

“Is there anything else that you haven’t told me?” asked Freydis, as she linked one of her arms with his.

“I don’t think, sweetheart” he tried to escape this awkward conversation “… we used to be best friends, so it is pretty normal that she knows those things about me”.

“Well yeah, that’s what best friends are there for, isn’t it?” she asked what looked like a trap question and he simply nodded, immediately taking the chance to accompany you to the car.

Where another harsh conversation was to be held.

You set up Eric on the back of the car, helping him to get out of his braces and his seat, as Ivar held the door for you, eventually managing to face you as you checked a bit more on how Eric had felt and if he had created any trouble.

“.. and I have to ask you another favor”,

“Is this about coming to Thanksgiving to your mother?” you surprised him, and he had to take a few minutes before he replied to you.

“… ahem… how do you…?”.

“Sigurd…” you explained, as he immediately was annoyed “… I met him for a coffee, yesterday…”.

“You met with Sigurd?” he asked you, extremely confused.

And he had to admit it, slightly annoyed.

“He was my friend, before we were even friends!” you retorted, catching his tone, almost as if you were justifying yourself “… and my answer is that I’ll think about it”.

“My mom is just… excited about having a grandchild” he mumbled, almost as if he was the one who had to justify himself.

“She just has to wait for another seven months and she’ll get one” you commented, with a tiny knowing smirk that he had always found the sexiest “… and she doesn’t even like me, even more now that she knows about Eric, probably…”.

“She never hated you!” replied exasperated Ivar “… and she is excited to see Eric, but… I understand if you don’t feel like that”.

“I’ll think about it” you simply repeated again, before saluting him, as you got in the car, making Eric wave at him, till you were lost in the horizon.

And he couldn’t help but hate the thought of you leaving.

---

Eric sang for the entire on the road back home, much to your hangover head.

But you were glad to have him back in your arms.

Although a night without him had been quite more pleasurable than you had thought…

… till the following morning you had woken up with a full-blown hangover, some random guy’s number in your phone with the note ‘call me’, although you were sure that you’d never do it.

In fact, not even a few harmless chats with the guys in the club that Angelika had brought you in had broken you away from your attraction towards Ivar.

Hence you had grown quite heavy with the alcohol.

But at least the hangover had avoided making you think about him.

Maybe you should have seriously thanked Angelika.

Although you doubted she’d be up right now, since not only her son was at her father’s house on the weekends, but she had gone back home with a pretty young thing last night, after she had accompanied you back home.

Your mother had caught you in your stumbling steps and had simply helped you to settle in bed, mumbling something about ‘having enough children, these days’ but she had left water by your beside table.

Which you had needed, because you had woken up with a sore throat, suddenly remembering about the first time you had drunk something remotely alcoholic.

It had happened at the Lothbrocks’ house.

They had always bene a terrible influence on you.

Ragnar had come back from one of his ‘trips’ and he had brought over a bottle of some awful Nordic liquor, which you had downed alongside the brothers as you played a rather version of ‘never have I ever’.

And luckily for you, half of the questions where sexual, so you had drunk.

A lot.

To the point that Ivar had insisted on you staying over, before you were even together.

Not that he had much choice, you had fallen asleep on his bed a few minutes after he had bought you to his room.

It had been the first of many nights spent together.

And the missing figure of his body against you, hurt you.

A month ago, you wouldn’t have cared.

But having Ivar so close to you and Eric…

… it almost made you think about what you could have been.

And what he would be with Freydis’ child.

You were truly happy for her.

She was sweet and gorgeous, what more could Ivar want?

A single mom who was a complete and utter mess wasn’t seriously something anybody might have been interested in.

Eric called out your name and you immediately shook yourself from your thought, realizing that you had actually arrived home.

“Oh Gosh” you were glad that your own hands had been much more functional than your awful brain “… we are here, already”.

“Mommy, are you hurt?” asked worried Eric, seeing you grimacing a bit because of the tiredness in your limbs.

Honestly, it wasn’t supposed to be that heavy on you.

You weren’t that old after all… you hoped.

“No, no sweetie” ‘my heart just decided to break itself on useless memories’ “… what about you? Do your legs bother you?”.

“No no” he chanted, with a happy smile on his face “… I am just a bit tired”.

“Are you saying that because you are truly tired or because you don’t want to do your homework?”.

“Daddy didn’t make me do any homework yesterday!” he tried to protest, just to be frozen by your harsh gaze.

Even hangover you knew how to handle the temper he had inherited from Ivar.

“… and that is why you shall do some today” you commented, as you moved to exit the car and collect him, helping him with his braces and in getting up, as he brought his backpack with him “… not too many, if you promise not to protest too much”.

“I swear that I won’t talk as Loki, when they stitched his mouth close” he promised, zipping his mouth, as you sent him a worried look.

“A rather gruesome story…” she mumbled softly “… I’ll have a talk with your father about it”.

“He said you wouldn’t have approved” he commented, with that smartass smirk his father had as well.

“… but he still told you” you grumped more on yourself than on anything else.

You and Eric arrived at home, your mother welcoming you back, as she hugged her beloved grandchild, something that reminded you of the conversation that you had last had with Ivar about Aslaug.

Your mother loved Eric with all her heart, it was her grandchild.

And had the situation been reversed, had you been the one who had just discovered of your child… you would have wanted your mother to know him.

In the end Ivar would always do as he preferred.

And get people to bow for him.

Part of you wanted to almost refuse his offer to let Aslaug meet your son, because of that.

But… it wouldn’t have been fair… to the poor woman.

As much as you didn’t find particular interest in Aslaug and in her liking you, your younger self had always tried to appease to her, both because she meant so much to Ivar, but also because you admired her.

She was a single mom too, with four children, one of which born with a rare genetic disease, handling an absent father and constant fights among her children.

And she always looked damnably classy, with her stylish clothes and her ironic gaze.

You had always been scared of her.

And you were still, a bit.

But you had grown.

You were yourself a single mother, maybe less stylish than her.

You were doing it for her, not for Ivar.

And that was what you kept on saying to yourself, as you asked to a wondering Eric.

“Would you like to know your other grandma, little one?”.

---

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[theonetheycallhannah]

The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Chapter Five:Sensory Integration 1

Pairing: Captain “Sy” Syverson x OFC (Shane Benton)

Summary: A Friday full of teasing for Shane ends in a steak dinner with a blue-eyed beefcake. If you don’t finish this chapter hungry for one or the other, if not both, I haven’t done my job! Lol! (For inspo on Sy’s date outfit, think back to that one Men’s Health photoshoot Hen did and just imagine his hair shorter. That’s what I did. lol!) 

Click me to catch up on the story and other stuff by Hannah!

Word Count: 4k (This date got away from me! Lol! And it’s only half over!)

Warnings: Mostly this is utter fluffy fluff, but I’m gonna put the following warnings on, anyway. Language, mature themes, alcohol consumption, borderline food worship (Shane may have a problem, I definitely do! Lol!) Also, pretty much every Sy fic I’ve read says that his given name is Logan, so...should his given name be used henceforth, that’s what I’m going with because it seems the most cannon and I like it and if it’s good enough for Wolverine...

Author’s Note: So, guys, this is crazy. First off, the reaction and love Sy and Shane’s story has been getting has taken me completely off guard and utterly made my day/week. (I’m serious. Every note makes my heart do a happy dance. A like, a reblog, a comment. It all means the world to me. Thank you for your feedback and for sharing this story.) Second, YOUR FEEDBACK MATTERS TO ME! Because initially, idk what I was thinking. I was going to skim over their first date and like…not write it…and I kept getting notes as I worked on further chapters to the tune of “can’t wait for this date!” and I thought…hmm…well, the date must be written! So, here it is, the first half-ish, of Shane and Sy’s first date. I hope it’s all you were expecting…or at least half of all you were expecting! Lol! More to come in part two of Sens Integ! (BTW, fun fact, these chapter titles are all named after treatments that therapists actually use on their patients sometimes! Lol!)

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism.

Tags:

@onlyhenrys @cavillryarchive @summersong69 @titty-teetee @bloodyinspiredfuck @agniavateira @oddsnendsfanfics @omgkatinka@thisismysecretthirstblog

@misslaland @speakerforthedead0@tumblnewby @suavechops

Friday morning. She was up with the sun. And a bit before, really. Today was the day. Her first date with Sy. She’d taken extra care in the shower, less clumsy, thank God! She shaved her legs because she had chosen to wear a knee-length blue dress with a scoop neck and cap sleeves in wrinkle-proof Jersey knit since it would be in her tote bag all day. She was not shaving because she thought anything would happen tonight with Sy. She didn’t think she was ready.

That is, she was ready, but, only physically. Emotionally, mentally, she would need to prepare for him a bit longer before taking him as a lover. She hoped he was on the same page.

He had an appointment in the early afternoon. He greeted her with his warm “Hello, sunshine.” Following it up by telling her how pretty she looked today, causing blush to burn in her cheeks. She’d reciprocated, even though he was in his typical tee and shorts look. It was still true. They got on their usual bikes to warm up for about 15 minutes, and then took to the leg press to try to advance his strengthening.

“I’m really proud of your progress! You wouldn’t have been able to do this much weight two weeks ago!” She encouraged him.

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely. Now, we are going to do some drills next. Simple ones, but they aren’t going to be fun for you. I’ve chosen to do them on your last day of the week for a reason. You may be sore. Ice and whatever you take OTC if you must. Ibuprofen or acetaminophen. But try the ice first. It shouldn’t be too bad.”

“Okay.” He conceded, dejected.

“Stretching afterward.” She promised.

“Okay!” He pepped up. She knew he just loved an excuse to have her hands on him.

Later, as he lay on the mat, sweaty from the exertion of the drills, with her up there with him having to use her whole body to leverage the proper stretch out of his hip flexors, she felt the heavy weight of his gaze. She tried to look anywhere but those sapphire eyes below her. They were too vulnerable. She couldn’t handle that right now. Not here.

“Shane?” Dammit, he was gonna make her.

“Hmm?” She looked down at him, smile meeting smile.

“I just…” he couldn’t seem to get out the words. But she thought she understood what he was feeling.

“I know, Sy. I know.” She gently patted his outer thigh where she had been bracing her hand for the stretch, and let his leg back down, while dismounting the mat, as well.

“Well, that’s about the hour. Any questions before I let you go?”

“Are you as excited for tonight as I am?” He asked. She chuckled. She couldn’t imagine him being more excited than she was!

“Yes! Hehe! But I still kinda meant about therapy, Sy.”

“Oh, right. Are you excited to finish up with your therapy patients at therapy today so I can pick you up from the therapy clinic and take you on our date?”

“Just because you say therapy 20 times doesn’t make it about therapy.” She laughed.

“Okay, I do have a question for you, since I’m here.”

“Shoot.” She encouraged.

He stood and held her face, taking it into a kiss so devastatingly and painfully tender, she could not process what to do next. She was leaning toward fainting. But then tackling him onto the mat again seemed an attractive option. She settled for placing her hands on his waist, ready to control the situation as need arose. But after a brief moment of slight deepening, he broke away, still holding her face in his large strong hands.

“Ahem. That’s a good question. Why don’t I have you a reply later this evening?”

“Sounds good to me, sunshine.” He grinned widely, and waved a quiet goodby to her.

She walked to the doorway of the small room to watch him walk out…his gait still uneven from his injury but improving enough that she could tell he once took very…confident strides. She could almost picture it. She sighed, forgetting herself for a moment until Anita came up behind her walking her elderly patient with a gait belt and front wheeled walker.

"Is that a bit of drool on your chin, Shane?" she said quietly, but still startling the younger therapist from her reverie.

"Oh, uh, hey." she checked her chin, absentmindedly, late in getting the joke, and rolled her eyes. "Funny, Nita. Do you need anything?"

"Nope, Gladys and I are just headed to the gym for a few minutes on the NuStep to round out her treatment." Nita grinned at Shane.

"Who was that handsome young man that just left, Shane?" Gladys asked her, as women of her…demographic tended to do.

"He's just one of our patient's Miss Gladys. But I can't tell you his name. It's against the privacy policy." She explained.

"Oh, okay. Well, if I was a few years younger, I'd let ya give him MY name…and my telephone number." she smirked with pride in herself. All three ladies giggled.

"I'm pretty sure he's spoken for, Gladys." Anita broke the news to her randy patient, smirking at her coworker.

"Shame! Well, that's one lucky young lady!" Gladys hobbled on with the walker as Anita cued her not to let the device get too far ahead of her feet. Shane was beet red from the whole interaction. At least she wouldn't have to wear blush tonight.

Her day finally finished, notes done, and final communications sent,  the most important (in her opinion, probably not her employer's) message of them all was next. The text to Sy that he could head toward the clinic to pick her up.

She touched up her eye makeup, applied another coat of mascara, and dabbed on some of her favorite lipstick in a deep red that complimented her skin tone. She also spritzed on a bit of her favorite Armani perfume before slipping on her dress and black ballet flats and sliding on a pair of simple hoop earrings. She'd had her hair pulled up all day in a clip, so it should be pleasantly wavy when she took it down…and with a bit of flipping, shaking out, and finger diffusing, it was.

She looked in the mirror. She was ready.

Was she ready? She examined herself in the full length mirror in the empty locker room at the clinic. The dress and the shoes suddenly seemed all wrong, both together and as individual pieces for the occasion. She looked great, it wasn't that…but…was it right for tonight? Should she cancel? Was she being ridiculous? Clearly she was, as she'd already sent the message telling Sy he could come get her. But the closer she got to being ready to go, the less ready she felt. Those butterflies were suddenly clawing at her esophagus, disrupting the bile in her stomach, and threatening to choke off her air supply. They were no longer pleasantly fluttering. She felt like she had a boot against her windpipe.

She was snapped out of the panic attack when she heard her phone go off. A message from Sy.

Your chariot, m'lady. Should I come in and get ya?

She grinned like a lunatic. How could she have considered calling tonight off?

Nay, m'lord, verily the gates be locked. I shall use the rear exit and meet thee around yonder forsooth.

Wow, you ran with that one. *laughing in tears emoji*

I have that tendency. Lol. *monocle wearing emoji*

She grabbed her bags, walked out the back door, and tossed the one that wasn't her purse into her vehicle, which was parked nearby and walked around to the front. He was standing on the sidewalk near that edge of the building.

The sun was just setting, and the light from it hit him so bewitchingly that it took away her breath. Not in the frightening way of the panic attack she'd just had, but in the nice way, like right before you surface from a deep dive and you know the sweet relief of oxygen is imminent. She assessed his ensemble with approval. Black books, sleek dark blue jeans, and a sapphire v-neck polo that even in the low light of near dusk made his blue eyes dance with vibrant intensity against his fading tan. His hair was starting to grow out ever so slightly, but it was still very close cropped. His beard, she could tell, had been finely groomed, combed, and styled. He looked…well, she'd never looked up the word "handsome" in the dictionary, but she imagined it would describe the image before her quite succinctly. And alternatively, Sy's image could be used as an illustration in the reference book, itself.

The best part, though, was the look on his face when he saw her.

She felt like he'd never properly looked at her, perhaps. Maybe he wasn't expecting a dress, or loose hair, or red lips. Or maybe it was a combo of the whole Date Shane package he was seeing before him. As his eyes beheld her, he almost looked confused. As if she was a stand-in. Or maybe an alien. Some body-snatcher. Only he wasn't frightened. She was having a hard time working out his expression as she'd really never seen it before, and particularly, never aimed in her direction. He said one word.

"Wow." It was reverent. Not a whisper. But barely a decibel above.

Again, her cheeks required no artificial pigmentation.

"Hey. You look…you certainly scrub up good, mister." she giggled nervously, feeling immensely awkward at her inability to properly compliment the chiseled image of Adonis before her. His every muscle hugged to perfection by the fabric covering it. How did you even begin to tell such perfection how perfect it was?

"You…Shane, I don't remember the last time I saw anyone look so beautiful." he frowned, as if trying to recall, then giving up with a smile, and leaning in to kiss her cheek. He lingered a moment to hug her, hold her as the day faded, breathe her in. She did the same. He was freshly showered and wearing cologne, as he often did, but it rarely hit her so solidly as it did tonight. She loved this scent. Woody, but earthy, with notes of bergamot, a kind of musky scent similar to amber, but more masculine, and something spicy that she loved. The combination exploded like an olfactory fireworks display.

The shirt was an unthinkably soft cotton (blended she thought perhaps with kitten, she could not stop touching it.) and the warmth of him radiated into her as his chest rose and fell over the course of his numerous breaths as they stood there holding each other and enjoying this feast for the senses.

"You ready for supper?" he asked, a faint but distinct rumble from his abdomen indicating that he most certainly was.

"Yes." she smiled up at him as he took her hand in his and led her to his truck. A Ford F150, the same sapphire blue as his shirt and his eyes. She was sensing a pattern, here. It wasn't the newest vehicle, but he had taken immaculate care of it. She felt shame for her own treatment of her Explorer, Bessie, which often functioned as storage shed, trash can, and sometimes, hotel, when she felt like a road trip on a shoestring budget. He walked her to the passenger side, opened the door for her, and helped her in, as the truck sat a bit higher than what she was used to.

"So, I have us a table saved at this great steakhouse just down the road. And then, it's supposed to be a nice night, I thought we could take a walk by the lake?"

It sounded perfect to her. Quiet and simple.

"Amazing. As long as your knee is up for a walk?"

"I've got all weekend to rest before getting tortured again." he smirked at her as he pulled the truck out of the parking lot and on the main road toward the interstate. "B'sides, who better to have with me if I start hurtin' than my PT?"

The emphasis he placed on the possessive pronoun, claiming her as HIS PT sent a delighted shiver through her that she blamed on the AC, which he promptly turned down.

He had his Spotify shuffling Kings of Leon at a low volume as they conversed lightly and pleasantly. Since it was an earlier model, even well equipped as it was, it wasn't quite ready for auxiliary or Bluetooth sound, so he'd bought one of those radio receivers that tune into an unused frequency and connect to your phone or iPod. She'd retrofitted her 2003 Ford Explorer in a similar fashion.

They were both caught a bit off guard when "Sex on Fire" came on, and tried valiantly to keep talking. But it was hard to hear anything but those lyrics. Singing of exhibitionism and dangerous sex acts that were definitely moving violations…and simply the sex being on fire. She was thankful, for once, that this song that she'd always found catchy without paying much attention to the actual lyrics, was now fading into the night as they pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant.

She remembered to wait for him to get the door for her, even though it had been ages since she'd been on a date or had any kind of romance whatsoever. He helped her down from her perch, giving her a gentlemanly moment to adjust her skirt before taking her hand and leading her into the building.

He opened the door and led her in by that lumbar lordosis that made everyone tremble and swoon. She was no exception just because she knew that part of your back was not actually called "the small" and she got perturbed when she heard it referred to as such.

"Welcome to Mark's, how can we help you?" the host greeted warmly.

"Reservation for Syverson." Sy piped up. She was used to being the voice in these situations. She was thankful not to have to for once. It was a small thing, but it was still nice.

"Right this way, folks." he grabbed two large menus, a mid sized one, and a small one, and led them to a cozy but still spacious two-top in a quiet corner of the dining area. The warm light was low and ambient, and there were real kerosene lamps on the tables, which she loved. It had the rustic ambiance of a cabin with all the refinement of any four+ star restaurant she'd ever been to. Not that she'd been to many.

"Here you are, the table you requested, and your menus. Have a look at them, and Katie will be out soon to answer questions and take your orders."

As he walked away, Sy pulled her chair out for her, and aided her sitting. His gentility was so refreshing to her, because it was so sincere and kind, and in no way oppressive or domineering, as some men seemed to use such gestures. Wielding them like a club rather than a feather. She was just used to seeing a certain side of him, teasing and silly as he was in therapy that this side of Captain Syverson, or as she may end up calling him one day, Logan, his given first name, if it pleased him, had taken her off guard.

"Nice place." she approved, looking around at he exposed beams of the ceiling and the iron and copper chandeliers and light fixtures on the wall. She also noticed quite curiously a copy of American Gothic by Grant Wood on one wall and The Kiss by Gustav Klimt on another. Such different styles to be displayed in one room. She really liked it though.

"It's one of my favorites. I try to come in every couple weeks or so." The fact that he liked steak on the regular was definitely a point in his favor. She loved it but rarely went out for it on her own. Eating out alone wasn't so bad, but it was hard to enjoy a steak dinner by one's self.

"What's your favorite cut?"

"Oh, I've tried most of them, and you can't go wrong." He assured her.

They had a crazy selection. Ribeyes, filets, sirloins, prime rib, all seasoned, smoked, topped and wrapped in every way you could imagine…it was like staring at the Netflix menu of steak. And much like she tended to do with Netflix, she relied on a classic favorite. After all, who goes for an obscure choice their first time at a new steak house?

"I'm keeping it simple and going for their prime rib and a baked potato."

"Ah, that's a perfect choice. We're getting some of their lobster mac and cheese to start, though. Unless you're allergic or something?" he added the disclaimer when he saw her eyes widen.

"Not at all, that sounds…"she was thinking "sexual," but decided instead on "heavenly."

Soon, Katie, a peppy, slender young redhead in black jeans she'd been poured into and a white T-shirt she had outgrown some time ago, descended upon their table with gusto.

"Howdy, I'm Katie and I get to take care of you fine folks this evening. What drinks and appetizers can I start y'all off with?"

Sy looked at Shane to prompt her to start.

"Sweet tea?" she half stated, half inquired. Katie nodded and jotted.

"Sure thing! Sir?" she thought her eyes sparkled when she looked at Sy…she couldn't blame her. But…she thought she could take her if she tried anything. She was certain there was a very sharp knife in the black napkin set-up at her right hand.

"Same for me, Katie. And we are also gonna need an order of your lobster mac to start and a bottle of your house cab."

"Fantastic. I'll be right back with the teas and wine after I put in for the lobster mac for ya, and then I'll take your meal order." she smiled brightly. Sy looked at Shane, though, as he replied "Wonderful."

~~~~~~~

Her instincts about the lobster mac and cheese had been spot on. She couldn’t contain her yummy noises of enjoyment which amused Sy to no end. She couldn’t imagine the steak any better.

About that, she had been completely wrong. It was so succulent, tender, and flavorful, she debated on whether or not the provided au jus and horseradish were even needed. They were also too good to resist, though.

Her potato, twice baked to the perfect tenderness had a salt brined skin, and a garlicky butter that just sung with the sour cream and chives. She was in food heaven, and even if that meant she was dead, it was fine.

He’d ordered the same entrée as she had, but took his baked potato…a bit differently.

“You don’t like sour cream?” She asked, nonplussed.

“Nah, I mean, I can eat it, but…it feels weird in my mouth. I prefer the au jus and butter, instead. It’s much more tasty.” He said, waggling his eyebrows.

“I guess I’ll take your word for it.” She laughed.

“You’re welcome to try mine when I get it all doctored you how I like it!”

She did, right from his fork. And he was right about it being so flavorful, but she preferred the mild, creamier texture of her own side with the savory notes of her steak.

They ate and enjoyed each other’s company and conversation.

“Ya know, Sy, I totally had you pegged as a beer man, instead of a wine guy.” She said, as she brought her own glass of the deep red liquid to her mouth and nose, inhaling the bouquet before she took her sip.

“Normally, you’d be right. With a burger, pizza, sometimes tacos or what not, definitely. But I can’t do beer with steak. It’s gotta be wine. Red. And full-bodied.” He held her gaze as he drank from his own glass. Why did he have to look at her like that when he said those kinds of words? Her cheeks were warm from more than the booze.

For desert, they shared a decadent marbled brownie/blondie a la mode. He’d had the idea to slide his chair so he was sharing a corner of the table with her, rather than looking across it at her. Purely so they didn’t have to keep sliding the dessert…not so their knees would brush against one another now and then, or so they could feel the heat radiating from one another’s bodies…but actually, exactly for those reasons.

“Last bite is to you, Sy.” She set her fork down, full to bursting.

“Are you kiddin’? My mama’d tan my hide if she knew I took the last bite from my date.”

“You’re being gallant, actually! Rescuing me from a certain belly ache.” She patted her small but slightly rounded tummy. She did like her food, and was no gym rat, after all. He didn't seemed to mind. Yet.

“How 'bout we share the last bite?” He suggested.

“Technically that’s not physically possible. Becau…”

He interrupted what was going to be an intellectual explanation of why no matter how small you cut up a bite, the remaining bit was still technically one bite, and couldn’t be shared.

“No. Shh. I know you’re smart. You got nothin’ to prove here. I’m gonna cut what’s left in half until I get a bite you’re willing to take. Okay?” She nodded.

He only had to take the fork to it twice before she conceded, also letting him feed her, feigning paralysis from the food coma. She held the fork tightly between her lips, making him work to pull it from her mouth. She looked innocent, but she was an intentional little shit.

“You're so cute when you eat.”

“Said no one ever!” She held her hand over her face.

“You are, though. You enjoy the food. Experience it. It’s like you’re…getting a story from it, or something. Like it’s…almost like it’s entertaining you, I don’t know. It’s just…beautiful.” He leaned his elbow onto the table, supporting his head in his hand as he looked at her.

"Well, sometimes I think I like food a little TOO much for my own good." she lamented, reaching for the cabernet only to have it snatched by her date. He uncorked it and dispensed a generous pour for her, and topped off his own glass, killing the bottle.

"No such thing. Like I said about the wine, full bodied is the way to go. Nothin' wrong with a little cushion." he winked at her. She could not resist finishing a rhyme she'd always heard about the desirability of curvy girls…for the pushin,' and hoped the flush in her cheeks from the wine was enough to disguise the deepening color from the current blush she was feeling thinking of Sy…pushin' her cushions…but something tipped him off to her distraction.

"What's on yer mind, sunshine?"

"I'm wondering if you're prepared to carry me on this walk we're planning, actually." It was possible to think more than one thing, after all. "I don't know how I'll ever even walk again."

"Ah, give it fifteen minutes. Finish up your sweet tea, and by the time we're done with our walk, you'll want an ice cream cone."

"Ha, doubtful." But she was ashamed to admit, ice cream already didn't sound bad. Vanilla…maybe pistachio….no, coffee! In a waffle cone…with fudge drizzle…and almonds…maybe she had a problem.

"You ready to go?" he asked.

She nodded. He flagged down Katie and gave her cash, and what one might call a benevolent tip. They left the warm steakhouse, and entered the breezy late summer evening, the humid air seeming thick with promises.

Up Next: Chapter Six-Sensory Integration 2

[vemuabhi]

Warm Rhythm

This was requested by REDFRLegend. I really liked the concept. And I too love the concept of Angst to fluff. I hope you'll like this.

Pairing : Lucci X Jabra

Warnings : None. Its all fluff!

Word count : 877

Like/vote, comment, reblog/share are always appreciated.

Omg the gif is so adorable!!

"Wait what?! I can't believe this!", exclaimed Jabra looking at the invitation to the ball from Lucci. It was a date invite to the ball from Lucci.

All Jabra ever thought of, from the day he joined the CP9 team, was to Lucci recognise his feelings.

After Lucci shifted to CP0, Jabra thought his feelings would fade away. But... even after 2 years of being apart, his feelings still remained the same.

'I... as Luccis date... Its not a dream right', he thought. He always thought Kalifa was Luccis girlfriend because of how close they were with each other.

Even after Kaku said that wasn't case, he couldn't help but to be insecure.

'Why would Lucci be with a guy? Especially one like me? Or... is this a sick joke?'

He then noticed the letter which came with the invitation.

Dear Jabra,

I want you to be my partner in the ball. I know its been a very long time. But... there was never a day, that I didn't miss you. I want to tell you something really important too. I'd be waiting for you to come.

- Lucci

The letter was short but it was on to the point. Just like how Lucci is. Few words but would convey every single information.

Jabra blushed reading the letter. He then went towards his closet and hurriedly started to search for a suit.

Once he found his peach coloured suit, he tried it on. Looking into the mirror, he imagined how he and Lucci would interact. His neat suit was really elegant and beautiful.

On the day of the ball, he stood before the castle. His hands shivered as he was nervous. His insecurities started to surface agin. Then suddenly a voice brought him back.

"Is that you Jabra?"

Jabra turned to look at the person behind him. His eyes widened and his cheeks reddened. His heart started to beat fast.

There stood Lucci, in his black suit. His suit had a red rose in his pocket. It looked so pretty too. Lucci became even muscular during these 2 years and Jabra didn't fail to notice that. Even though Lucci wore a suit, his sharp features still shined brightly.

"Lucci", Jabra said looking at the latter. Lucci held out his hand to Jabra, which he accepted.

The intervined hands made things clear to Jabra once again. He was really at the ball. He wasnt dreaming. And mostly... he was with Lucci.

Luccis hands were warm and slightly bigger than Jabras. Little did Jabra knew, Lucci was just as nervous as him. His heart was beating faster than ever.

Always Lucci looked at Jabra. He never knew Jabra liked him back. He didnt want to ruin the friendship between them. So he kept quiet. But recently, when Kaku accidentally mentioned Jabra having a crush, he was on cloud 9.

Now... he felt like he was in paradise. Because Jabra was beside him. Holding his hand. Oh how beautiful he looked to Lucci, in his peach suit. That suited him very much.

"Thanks for coming", Lucci said but didn't look at the latter.

Jabra nodded and said, "Well, you called me. Ofcourse I'd come"

The love birds walked to the room of the ball and damn yes, they stole the attention of every person there.

"Jabra, can I have a dance with you", Lucci asked for which Jabra blushed again and managed to nod his head.

Damn Lucci almost had an attack because of how cute Jabra was. He pulled him closer towards him and slipped a hand on his waist.

Jabras eyes widened at the sudden moment. He couldn't be happier than now.

The music started to play and Jabra, Lucci started to sway in each others arms. They stole the attention of everyone in the castle once again. But... their focus remained on eachother.

Their heartbeats synced forming a warm rhythm.

"I love you. Always have been in love with you", confessed Lucci tugging a lose strand of hair behind Jabras ear.

Jabra bit his lip trying to stop the welled up tears from falling. Lucci didn't fail to notice it.

"Took you long enough to confess. I love you too, you idiot", replied Jabra and a tear slipped from his eye.

Lucci just leaned in and kissed the tear on his cheek. Making Jabra blush. They both kissed on the lips as the song came to an end.

Lucci leaned his Forehead onto the latters and said, "Ill never let you go. Please be my boyfriend"

"Yes Yes Yes!!", said Jabra and then he jumped onto Lucci as he embraced his boyfriend. Lucci held Jabra tightly. As if he'd disappear once let go.

Slowly people started to congratulate the two new couple. Jabra blushed as Lucci just smiled at the people.

Definitely they'll start a new beautiful story of their own now.

XOXOXOXO

I hope you kiked it!

Like/vote, comment, reblog/share to support me.

Follow for more content.

[movedyoakkemae]

ignore me, i’m archiving this thread bc... i love it. DO NOT REBLOG.

kid ( @kaivoleur ) & conan.

kid: 

    “ Have we talked about the moral implications and-or ramifications of putting infants in consistent, casual proximity with criminals and corpses yet? ”

conan: 

     conan tilts his head, almost birdlike, to the side upon that remark, briefly uncertain whether or not kid is making a joke about his stature and the rate of which he sees homicide cases or if he’s talking about the shōnentantei-dan and their current propensity to witness murders even WITHOUT conan in the direct vicinity.

     deciding to take it as the latter, he remarks with much self-recrimination, ‘ the kids are pretty good at bouncing back now – better than they did even a few months ago, but, yeah, i do wish they weren’t quite getting so used to it. dad used to take me to crime scenes when i was their age, but i definitely didn’t see the variety and intensity of crimes at the same frequency they did at their age. ’

     a wry grin touches his lips as he states, ‘ – y’know, they’ve even taken to talking about murder cases they’ve witnessed over lunch now ? nothing’s quite like hearing those three talk about the best ways they’ve seen a body being dumped – either through hydrochloric acid, chopping the body to pieces, or even just dumping a body into a river – while the other kids and our teacher are hanging onto their every word. those kids are going to be scary once they’re our age. ’

     ( he’s also continuously widely surprised that their parents would still let them go onto trips with him and agasa-hakase. conan’s pretty sure most parents would have IMMEDIATELY told the kids never to talk to conan again. he’s glad they didn’t because as much as the kids annoy him, he does genuinely like them, but… still. it probably would have been better for them to have been cut off from conan earlier on when witnessing one crime would have been in a once in a blue moon experience instead of literally every time they went on one of their weekly outings. )

kid: 

    KID hadn’t expected a serious reply, but that isn’t to say he’s not prepared for it. He quirks a brow at ‘ our age ’ and debates the merits of correcting the detective — on one hand, quipping about Conan’s current state is never not funny, but on the other, he’d really prefer to try and complete the night without getting a soccer ball power-kicked to his face, so.

“ Detectiveness must be infectious, ” he says instead, because he’s not in a particularly dodgy mood. First officers, then teens, and now children; he’s never going to be free of them, huh? The thought brings a smile to his face — he wouldn’t have it any other way, of course. The chase is pointless if it doesn’t attract attention, and ( even worse ) boring if some do-gooder isn’t trying to get in his way. “ I’m not going to have to deal with them on a regular basis, am I? I think even one tiny detective is grating enough on Nakamori-keibu’s nerves. ”

The thief doesn’t even want to think of what a group of five infuriatingly sharp children would do to the old man. ( Wait. Five? He pauses for a split instant, turning the detective’s words over in his head — he’d definitely said three, and three-plus-one… is one short. Hm. A thought for later, then. )

“ Hopefully, by the time they reach my age, we’ll both have everything… figured out, ” KID muses, a hint of a grin reaching his eyes. “ Not that I don’t enjoy all you young detectives making valiant attempts to slow me down, of course, but you know how it is. ” Probably not, but KID makes no further effort to explain.

conan: 

    ‘ a “regular” basis ? probably not. your heists usually run too late at night, and their parents tend to be pretty good at setting a bedtime for them. ’ he’s pretty sure ran’s given up on setting him a bedtime considering all of the cases he takes and how some of them may last into the middle of the night. ‘ and i think nakamori-keibu is getting used to me. ’

    he hadn’t been at first – in fact, nakamori-keibu had been downright hostile to the occasional addition of conan to the ranks, but, well, one can’t deny constant results. he’s pretty sure nakamori-keibu likes conan better than shinichi, at any rate, but, to be fair, shinichi only appeared once and immediately assumed control of the officers. conan’s only just come the closest to catching kid and getting jewels back as quickly as possible.

    conan rolls his eyes at kid’s unsubtle emphasis of separating their ages ( and, as such, picking fun of conan’s current predicament. if it wasn’t for the fact that he’s pretty sure kid doesn’t know the full story, he’d get a lot more pissed than he does ). ‘ just for that, i’m making sure the others get new watches, belts, and shoes, ’ he threatens.

    but, after a pause and the amused look crossing his face, it’s clear that conan has realised what an interesting and entertaining idea it would probably make. after all, the shōnentantei-dan were getting better at traps all the time, and, well, their soccer skills have also gotten better too just by playing with conan all of the time. hm… he might owe haibara a purse or something, but it might be worth it just to see kid having to dodge five high speed soccer balls.

kid: 

    “ I’m surprised you haven’t taught them your curfew-eschewing ways yet, ” KID remarks blandly, tucking his hands into his pockets. He’s been tempted multiple times to push the heist back further into the night — mostly because a sleepy Task Force is an easier to handle Task Force — but he really needs the crowds of an accessible hour to pull off some of his best tricks. ( Besides, much as he declines to admit it, he does need sleep too. Sometimes. When he doesn’t have anything else to do. So never, basically. )

Maybe if he got more sleep, he wouldn’t be accidentally inspiring his critics with awful, no-good, very bad ideas. One tantei-kun is enough, thank you very much, he doesn’t need an entire entourage of children power-kicking soccer balls at him. KID manages to suppress a shudder at the thought, merely letting his grin ice over a mere degree.

“ Don’t even think about it, ” he says with just a hint of dourness, although it’s obviously a little too late for that. “ Holding heists at reasonable hours is not worth getting pelted by a hail of weaponized sports equipment. Don’t make me push heists back to 3 AM and cheerfully let Nakamori-keibu know it’s your fault he’s not getting his much-needed beauty sleep. Hakuba would probably actively attempt to murder me, too, ” he adds as an afterthought. Especially if he did it during finals week — ooh, but now that thought’s tempting. Kaito doesn’t particularly need to excel, he just needs to pass, and he could do that in his sleep; Hakuba, however… Well. He can’t imagine the detective settling for anything less than his own best work. “ Hey, if I ever get murdered at my own heist, would you still investigate it? ”

It’s a question he voices with the light-hearted tone of a joke, but something in his expression — shifts, his gaze sharpening. As though halfway through the question, he’d realized what had actually come out of his mouth, and for an instant it’s not Hakuba on mind but Snake and a sniper’s scope. But the words weigh too heavily for his liking, so he pushes on with somewhat less-than-natural joviality, “ Or does being a criminal excuse me from your jurisdiction or whatever? I don’t know how you detectives work. ” ( A lie, for the most part. )

conan: 

   conan waves a hand as if to wipe the idea from both of their brains. ‘ you already know about it, so it wouldn’t make for such a good trap anymore anyway, and you’d be careful to look out for new watches, belts, and shoes for the kids. ’ now, the task force, on the other hand… that was definitely an idea to save for later.

   ( he also notes the slight familiarity of kid calling him “hakuba”. nakamori-keibu gets, well, “nakamori-keibu”, and conan gets “tantei-kun” and, on occasion, “meitantei”, so why does hakuba get called by his last name ? it may be nothing, but he notes it either way. ).

   “hey, if i ever get murdered at my own heist, would you still investigate it?” the question seems light-hearted, coming from kid’s lips, a laugh at his own morality perhaps, but there’s something in his expression that shifts. conan’s eyes immediately narrow at the clue – it’s genuine, that shift of expression, judging from how kid tries to falsely lighten the air with, “or does being a criminal excuse me from your jurisdiction or whatever? i don’t know how you detectives work.”

   he had heard rumours of unidentified criminals moving around at kid heists, but he hadn’t personally seen any sign of them, so he had just dismissed them as rumours. now, conan wonders if he shouldn’t have. something to look into, definitely. if someone was trying to kill kid, in a way that he apparently thinks is possible given the question, conan needs to put a stop to it yesterday.

    ‘ idiot, ’ he deadpans, affecting an annoyed appearance, as if insulted by the question. ‘ if someone – however unlikely – managed to kill you, i’d hunt them down and make sure they’d get arrested. it doesn’t matter to me if you’re a thief or not – murder takes precedence over thieves any day, and criminals don’t deserve to die, no matter what th – anyone – might think. ’

    the slip comes from remembering asō seiji… they had murdered so many people, and still… conan had tried so hard ( and failed ) to save them.

    ( he has to close his eyes against the sudden memory of heat, and the same haunting tune playing in his ears. it’s a failure that still tastes bitter in his mouth, ash and smoke from the fire choking his lungs. shinichi thinks, for however long he’ll be alive, he’d never listen to moonlight sonata in the same way ever again ).

kid: 

    A laugh bubbles up to KID’s lips but doesn’t quite make it out of his mouth ( he could not say why, himself; relief? exasperation? he doesn’t know from where the laughter rises but he refuses to let it breach the surface ), and he wonders for a moment what the detective had been about to say before ‘ anyone ’ — but he lets him have his secrets, in the end. The thief lets only an amused breath escape, rocking his weight slightly, as though to leave, because this is already too much exposed in a single confrontation and he should leave before he lets himself slip too far. Or farther; maybe this is already too much.

But when the little detective closes his eyes, the thief holds himself still, because all of the sudden it is not the hilarity of his own possible doom that lingers over his thoughts. Rather, abject horror sours his amusement because if Conan goes after the crows at his heists, if he tips the balance so carefully maintained in the heists and manages to corner them…

Snake may be incompetent, but he’s still got BITE, and wild things are always most vicious with their backs to a wall.

    ( Meitantei is brilliant.               But so was Toichi, before he burned. )

“ Mm, good to know. But don’t hold your breath, ” KID says breezily, tearing his mind away from the old, old memory. “ I don’t plan on dying anytime soon. Try not to jump at shadows too much in the meantime, tantei-kun ~ ” He waits and makes sure to meet the detective’s gaze as he speaks, trying to convey the unspoken warning; just because he’d nudged a bit of confirmation about the… dangers associated with his moonlighting, doesn’t mean he wants Conan diving headfirst into it.

This is KID’s territory, and he’s got first dibs, so to speak. His way is a bit of a balancing act, trying to slowly key his critics in on what’s going on without alarming them or alarming Them, but maybe with this step, he can get a little closer to that end goal.

With a flick of the wrist, he reveals a grey marble in the palm of his hand. He lets it slip from his fingers, and when it hits the ground, it erupts in a cloud of smoke — and by the time that clears, KID’s gone.

[obsidianfr3sk]

Rise of the Renegades (Chapter 2)

Summary: Heroes come from the most unexpected places. Heroes sometimes feel a little too different, a little too scared, a little too alone. But heroes also know when enough is enough, and that before saving the world, they need to save themselves. And they cannot do it alone.

They were going to be the hope of the world. They were going to call themselves the Renegades. Even if they didn’t know it yet.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26246812/chapters/64292134#workskin

A few weeks ago I was having kind of a writer’s block and my mom a friend of mine (cof cof @dawniebb cof cof) recommended me to create a playlist for my fic... and I did. @nodrianbcyes already listened to it and said it ruled so I’m gonna share it with you guys, pls don’t make fun of my music taste (? You can listen to it clicking here. 

Mmmm, what else, what else??? Hope you like it! Reblogs, funny tags, likes and dead threats are always welcome!

Tag list: @healing-winston-pratt @alecjamesartino @ohmyskies @blueraspberry-official (tell me if you want in or out, don’t worry)

The stupidest plan 

You fell asleep in my car, I drove the whole time,

but that's ok, I'll just avoid the holes so you sleep fine.

I'm driving here I sit, cursing my government,

for not using my taxes to fill holes with more cement.

Hugh

He had spent the whole night sketching the battle between Wonder Man and Ace Anarchy. It had been very tedious to be working without proper lighting. For a moment he believed that when morning came, his drawing would not look as good as he thought. However, the morning had come.

And it was perfect.

Although now that he was polishing the last details while waiting for classes to begin, he came across a question that kept him from concentrating.

Simon quietly walked into the classroom, as if he was afraid of bothering someone with his mere presence (although they literally were only ones there). He sat in the first seat in the row to his right. Simon hated sitting upfront because he said it only brought more attention to himself than he wanted to. However, Hugh couldn't sit anywhere else. His glasses weren't the best.

Also, it was strangely depressing to sit on the last row and see that of the forty tables in the room, only fifteen were filled. Twenty if it was a busy day. From the front, it was easier to ignore that more than half of the kids in his class had dropped out of school. 

But Hugh had enough of ignoring things.

“What color are Ace Anarchy’s eyes?” he asked Simon.

“Good morning to you too,” he replied sarcastically.

“Good morning.” He took gray in one hand and blue in the other. “What color are Ace Anarchy's eyes?”

Simon looked carefully at the colors. “I don't know, gray? I feel like they are gray. I can't imagine him having blue eyes.”

Hugh agreed.

“What are you drawing?” Simon asked.

“Propaganda,” he replied with a mischievous smile.

“It looks good.”

“I’m a propaganda expert, indeed.” He grabbed his classroom chair and pushed it to the right next to Simon's. He would return it to its place when the professor entered. “Have you thought about what I told you about yesterday?”

He looked away. “No.”

He shook his head. Simon was lying. “I was being very serious, you know.”

“And I was too. Stop thinking bullshit,” and he smacked him on the back of the neck. “Or do I have to beat those ideas out of you, Wonder Man?”

Hugh hit him back, but in the arm. “Come on. I don’t believe it is bullshit.”

And I don't think you believe that either.

“All right, but you believe many things. You believed in Santa Claus until very recently.” Simon started playing with a ball of crumpled paper that had been lying on the floor for a week. “When you told me ‘Simon, but it has all the logic in the world that Santa exists, he is a prodigy, like us ’ and I was like—"

“A part of me died that tragic day,” he said in a dramatic voice, one hand on his chest. “My childhood…”

“You were eleven years old. It was to save you from bullying. I was protecting you.” The door opened again and they both turned at the same time to see who it was. It was just a group of girls. Good. “It's not like it helped that much though.”

He shrugged.

Neither Simon nor he had been spared from bullying during those years. All the schools in the district were mostly filled with non-prodigies because most of the prodigies were in gangs or hiding in their homes. The few who were still in school did their best not to cause problems and to go unnoticed. They were part of that last group since middle school.

However, the entire school found out about their powers when Simon got so nervous at a presentation that he disappeared in front of his entire class. Hugh tried to intervene but stood up so fast that he tripped over his backpack and hit his nose on the floor. He did not bleed or receive a single scratch. People were quick to connect the dots.

Obviously if one was a prodigy, the other one was too. 

Alter all, freaks stuck together. 

They thought high school was going to be different, but no. On the first day, an older boy caught Simon turning invisible intermittently in the bathroom while having a panic attack. A few hours later, a girl tried to stab Hugh with a pencil and all it did was break it as soon as it made contact with his skin.

“The next time you have a panic attack,” he told Simon on their way home, “tell me.”

“And the next time someone tries to stab you with a pencil, you stab them back.”

When you were a prodigy, it didn't matter if one believed in Santa or not. The mere fact of existing was enough to cause problems.

“At eleven you're still a kid,” Simon kicked him under the bench as he laughed. “Did you ever believe in Santa?”

“No. At my house the one who gave the presents was Baby Jesus,” he replied. “But I didn't believe in him either. How could a baby deliver all those gifts? His hands are too tiny”

Simon gave a light laugh, but Hugh couldn't even smile.

He toyed with the color blue. “Simon, did you ever believe in something?”

Simon bit the inside of his cheek and looked up at the ceiling. He took his sweet time thinking before replying, “I have believed in things.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. “Like what things?”

“Well... I believed the stories my mom told me before bed,” he replied. “I also believed they were never going to stop producing The Scarlet Enchantress and the Phantom Feline comics—” He gestured for him to come closer— “or that I was going to be a prodigy,” he whispered.

Hugh smiled at him. “The best curse ever.”

“What did you believe in?”

He laid his head on his desk. “I have a whole list.”

Simon covered his head with his hood and pretended to be ready to fall asleep. “The short version of that list, then.”

Hugh imitated him. “I used to believe that adults never grew up. Like, they were born as adults,” Simon laughed and rolled his eyes. “I thought little people were running the television inside of it. I thought my aunt was the most beautiful woman in the world—”

“She is,” Simon replied.

“Simon, stop it. She is my aunt. You have many other girls to choose from.”

“They are not as pretty as your aunt.”

“Simon!”

Simon laughed and the girls shushed him. His friend turned red in the ears as they returned to their conversation like nothing. Hugh wanted to point out how rude they had been.

However, when Simon discreetly smiled at him again, he decided to continue with his list. Those girls were not worthy of his attention. “I also believed in Santa Claus, until someone ruined my hopes and dreams.” Another kick. Simon kicked people too much. “But I also believe in that someone, you know.”

Simon's smile almost disappeared. “Well... that someone doesn't believe in himself.”

I knew it.

He understood his friend. He really did. He knew there were times when Simon would get more nervous than normal in banal situations. Or that he had some days when he didn't want to get out of bed at all. 

Those were the worst.

But despite that, not a single day passed that Simon didn't get up and go to school with him. Even when Hugh had to stop at his house and practically beg him to do it. 

Simon had never left him alone. And Hugh wasn't going to do it now.

He gifted him the widest of his smiles. “Well that someone doesn't have to worry about it. I can believe in him for both of us.”

Simon stared into his eyes for several seconds. He felt like he knew that face as well as he knew his. “Are you sure?” he asked.

“I am sure,” he replied.

Simon kicked him again.

Hugh felt sparks exploding inside his stomach.

Suddenly, a body slammed into the lockers, and screams filled the school hallway. The trio of girls ran out to see who was involved. Hugh leaned out of the small window in the door. He had always believed he was above that kind of thing, and he was. But it was also the most interesting thing that was going to happen all day.

Simon followed him.

They were a couple of boys from their grade, the same ones who constantly teased them. One with curly blond hair was holding his friend by the collar of his shirt and was yelling an infinity of curse words. The other three in his group, instead of separating them as good friends would do, they had joined the chorus of “Fight! Fight!"

Who knows why they were fighting. They were always fighting someone, but never with each other. They usually grabbed someone smaller than themselves for that, like the prodigy boy that was a grade below them. (They would never physically fight Hugh or Simon, making jokes at their expense was enough for them.) 

Cowards.

Maybe they were just brutally bored.

But there had to be other ways to shake off the boredom.

“I'm going to tell a teacher,” Hugh said.

At that moment, one of the girls ran out of the scene in the direction of the teachers' office. Well, at least now he wouldn't be the one to look like a snitch in front of his entire grade.

“That someone is slightly concerned,” Simon whispered.

“Why?” The blond slammed his friend again, but this time, against the door. “For them?”

“No,” he replied, a little disturbed by the tremendous blow that boy had received. “I am— that someone is... Well, what if the plan you have in your head is stupid?”

At that moment, Hugh realized that he had no plans. That was weird. He always had a plan for everything.

Beating Ace Anarchy should be no exception.

“I suppose we can come up with something. The two of us,” he added.

The fight was broken up by a short-haired teacher. They hurriedly returned their school chairs to their places and the rest of their class entered. Five, six, nine...

Eleven. Only eleven kids had attended that day. And that counting the ones who were fighting a few moments ago. 

“Don't think that someone is just going to blindly follow you,” Simon whispered. “He will tell you when you have a stupid plan.”

“I would be very grateful for that,” he also replied in a whisper. “Although I always have amazing plans, to begin with.”

Simon tried to kick him, but at that moment, the teacher from the first class entered. Hugh chuckled, and in response, Simon discreetly raised his middle finger in his direction.

He knew at that moment that it would not be a stupid plan.

[aminiatureworld]

The Music of the Night

Ship: Geralt x Jaskier

Warnings: Someone gets stabbed

Premise:  The family goes to a music concert, courtesy of Jaskier, and Geralt gets to experience something he never has before.

Author’s Note: I was hoping to post every five days, but unfortunately with classes starting and the larger Medieval AU this fic was a long time coming. I was more liberal with Geralt and Jaskier being open about their feelings, or at least I tried to be.

Hope you enjoy this fanfic and thank you so much to the 42 people who liked my last Geraskier fanfic as well as the 6 people who reblogged it.  Know that every single one of you contribute so much to my happiness and my determination to continue writing!

Notes about pieces, historical accuracy, and other such things in end note. Ao3 link in reblog

            “Alright, are we ready to go?” Yennefer shouted down the hall. Geralt ground his teeth, staring at the array of weapons laid out in front of him. It was a very important night, one that Jaskier hadn’t shut up about for the better part of three months. A guild of musicians was in a town neighboring Yennefer’s newest stronghold, and the house’s resident bard had been adamant that this would be a perfect family outing, and that no one was getting out of it. This hadn’t entirely been surprising, and Geralt had begrudgingly agreed to the whole endeavor, not being a huge fan of enclosed crowds. When he’d realized that maybe going to a concert unarmed in the middle of what could only be described as the Continent losing its collective mind was a bad move, his intensely minute planning, something that both Yennefer and Jaskier teased him mercilessly about since he’d properly brought Ciri into the family, had spun out of control. Now there the Witcher was, staring at the various knives, daggers, swords, and other miscellaneous weapons that he’d found lying around the house, wondering which to take and which to leave. The two usual swords were among the bunch, of course, but somehow Geralt knew that Jaskier wouldn’t take kindly to them being brought, something along the lines of ruining the atmosphere. Still, he had to bring something and as the banging in the hall grew louder Geralt wondered how he’d ever easily made up his mind about arming himself before.

           “Geraltttt!” Jaskier’s voice came singing down the hall, followed almost immediately by the banging of the door. Rushing over, he planted a quick kiss on Geralt’s cheek, something which never failed to bring on a blush, and shook his head excitedly. “You look lovely in everything darling, I promise no one will be in the mood to glare.” Geralt smiled fondly, if a bit exasperatedly, at the bard, before shaking his head.

           “That’s not it. I, well, was trying to choose.” He gestured towards the table and Jaskier, turning around and surveying the paraphernalia, nodded thoughtfully.

           “Hmm… tough choice.” He brought his hand to his chin for a moment, before his eyes lit up and he picked up a dirk sheathed in black leather. “I’ll take this one!” Checking to confirm the blade was indeed steel, Jaskier smiled up at the, admittedly baffled, Geralt, who couldn’t understand the bent that Jaskier was taking.

           “Jaskier, I-”

           “Oh and of course the others will need something too!” Jaskier scurried into the hallway. “Guys!! Geralts got his weapons laid out, better get one!” There was an incoherent reply from Yennefer, and the quick footsteps of Ciri, who, running into the room, grabbed a thin knife, this one wrapped in ordinary leather with green silk woven into the hilt, an old gift from a grateful pawnshop owner if Geralt could remember right. Geralt frowned as Ciri ran back out of the room, but before he could raise a protest Yennefer had waltzed in, scanned the table, and ran off with an elegant dagger, a whirling pattern built into the blade. Geralt immediately gave a grunt of protest at that, but Yennefer simply raised an eyebrow and walked out. Jaskier, returning, walked up to the poor Witcher, who was running about three paces behind the entire ordeal, and gave him a smile. “Thank you for thinking of that! This should be a relatively calm affair, more serious you know, but hey, protection is always a must!”

           “I… those were for me.” Geralt shook his head. “I couldn’t choose which to pick.”

           “Well, we’ve whittled down the selection haven’t we?” Jaskier smiled indulgently. “Now hurry up and choose yours now, you know how much I’ve been longing for this, and nothing is going to stop me from enjoying tonight. Especially not a late indecisive witcher.” And, pressing a kiss on Geralt’s nose, and nearly falling on him in the process, Jaskier ducked out, leaving the slightly bashful Witcher to pick up a weapon, another dirk, this one wrapped in old worn leather with half rubbed off runes cut into it, and run after him.

           The venue was already quite crowded when they arrived, and the front seats full. Jaskier gave a dramatic groan at that, but Ciri, muttering a quick word of assurance, ducked off to find four seats. Geralt could barely make her out, as she slipped quickly and quietly between various patrons, but he trusted in her abilities not only to find a good spot but to be able to take care of herself. The latter part of that trust had been harder to build up, the first few weeks they were together Geralt felt as if he were walking on melting ice, worried about the various ways he might put his newfound family in trouble. It had taken a lot of lectures from Yennefer and coaxing from Jaskier for the Witcher to finally accept that Ciri wasn’t a waifish girl in need of coddling; after all, hadn’t she survived without him? Through war and death and a cult chasing after her? No, Geralt now knew that being a good adoptive father didn’t mean locking one’s daughter away, even out of paternal worry.

           As Ciri waved the band over to a set of seats in the third row, Jaskier admitting that the choice was “not bad at all”, Geralt reflected for a moment on where he was now in life. He’d never thought at the beginning of his life he’d be a witcher, and he’d never thought at the beginning of his witcher life that’d he’d be destined for anything other than a lonely life, walking the Path with the cold determination of someone who knew no other way. How odd fate had proved out to be, and how grateful Geralt was that he’d been wrong. How happy he was that his life had changed, that he had changed, for the old Geralt knew nothing about either reflection or hope, not in the way current Geralt did, and as he slipped into one of the creaky wicker chairs set up around the semi circled stage, Geralt glanced at the family around him. Yennefer was enquiring after Jaskier the type of music that was to be played, the bard replying with a garble of songwriter facts and music theory that no one but himself understood, while Ciri was scouting the people around them, trying to determine where they were from no doubt, as she’d once confessed to Geralt seeing Cintran refugees always gave her pause, even if she no longer felt the urge to walk up and say hello. It was a happy sight, despite everything that had happened, the mistakes, the goings, the years apart. It was nice to have a night such as this, and as Jaskier turned to glance at the Witcher he seemed to wink, as if to say to Geralt, see, I told you this was a good idea. Geralt lifted his eyebrow, but he couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face, and as the people hushed and the musicians came out Geralt found himself very happy he’d let that bard follow him around.

          Geralt wasn’t entirely sure what he expected out of this night. He knew that it wouldn’t be the same experience as tavern songs, that this wasn’t going to simply be a group of bards, that the singing would be minimal, and that the songs would be longer and more complicated. What he certainly wasn’t expecting was the sheer beauty that hit him. The song started with one musician playing a fiddle, a low pleasant sound, which rose up in a variety of trills. It put Geralt in the mid of early springtime, the birds just emerging from their nests, or coming up from where they’d left. It made him think of the fields right after a frost, buds beginning to dot the trees, the world coming to life again. Slowly the other musicians, of which there were about 60, began to join in with the lone player, adding to the effect of a world waking. The music chased away the rest of Geralt’s thoughts, and he found himself leaning forward, as if somehow he could envelope himself in the notes floating around the theatre.

           A glance over at Jaskier made evident that the bard was also feeling affected by the music, for the bard had clasped his hands over his mouth, though every once in a while one would float up, as if guided by the music, and Jaskier’s eyes would close. It was a side that Geralt hadn’t really seen before, for though he knew of course that Jaskier loved music, loved it in an all consuming way, he didn’t show it often, mostly joking that no one wanted to hear the intricacies of Dorian mode, or listen to him sing the praises of men and women long dead. A warm feeling filled Geralt’s chest, and he was almost choked by the sense of fondness that he felt, surrounded by what Jaskier loved best, watching him in his element. Turning back to the performers Geralt thanked every god he could think of and all the ones he couldn’t that Jaskier had brought the family, and that Geralt got to be around such a beautiful being and share in such a beautiful experience.

           The music continued, each song more beautiful than the last. After what Geralt could only call the springtime piece came what seemed like four, but Jaskier later told him was only one split up into different “movements”. Their, or rather its, tone was dark, and even when the song seemed faster Geralt only felt agitated, rather than happy. Deciding he didn’t like that as much as the first song, though Ciri rather seemed excited by the frantic energy of it, Geralt was glad when four guild members stepped out and began playing a calmer song, this one another split in four, why did songwriters do such a thing? The second part of the four songs was quiet and soft, almost like a lullaby, and when the third part started again at a bright tone Yennefer, who’d dozed off, jerked up in her seat, to the great amusement of both Ciri and Jaskier, who giggled so incessantly that someone behind them told them in no uncertain terms to either shut up or go home. After that was a song much more based in the flutes and the reeded instruments, which consequently sounded much more fluid and loose, bringing to mind a great city with lazy morals and interesting sights. Geralt was enjoying himself immensely, a happiness only added to by Jaskier’s occasional squeals of glee and raucous clapping at the end of each song, as well as a whisper in Geralt’s ear whenever the Witcher seemed to get lost.

           The night was fading away and as the musicians announced that this was to be their last piece the crowd moaned, and shouts of encore echoed through the hall. The musicians stood up and bowed, causing many in the audience to jump to their feet in applause, and some even to begin to walk out, much to Jaskier’s annoyance. “They’re going to miss the best of it.” He scoffed, sitting back down as the stage emptied. Emptied that is except for one woman. She paused, waiting for the noise to calm down, before placing her fiddle on her shoulder. “This is it.” Jaskier whispered, and then she began. Immediately Geralt was blown away. Although there was only of her, multiple notes were certainly coming out of the instrument, at a breakneck pace, which had Geralt in mind of a horse, frantic and wild. The song developed, as a sweet melody came out of the endless pounding of hooves, only to be brought down by another melody, this one thick with panic and fear. The momentum kept going, pitches rising, melodies crashing into each other. It felt more like a torrent than a song, so swept away Geralt felt, giving him an odd sense of dread. Suddenly everything smashed into one another, and the song dropped, giving one the lingering feeling of discomfort. Turning to Jaskier, Geralt looked at the bard with raised eyebrows, not entirely sure how to convey what he’d felt. Jaskier glanced back at him with what seemed like satisfaction. “Based off a poem,” he explained, “of a man trying to save his son, only to be chased by a specter, one who promises the boy happiness and luxury if he goes with him, only to take his soul and kill the boy.” He sighed, seeming much happier than Geralt felt, for a pit had begun to form in the Witcher’s stomach. “Imagine your writing being immortalized in such a way… one day that’ll be my piece Geralt, just you wait. I’ll be the one striking fear into your heart.”

           “I hope not.” Geralt responded, a bit brusque for he couldn’t get the image out of his mind. “It sounds like a terrible poem.”

           “Tragedy is immortalized better than glory. I’m sure you understand that. Besides, it’s just a story, and one that can bring all people together. You thought her playing was beautiful didn’t you?” He gestured towards the woman, who was receiving heaps of deafening applause. Geralt nodded slowly. He couldn’t deny the talent of both the musician and the songwriter. Still, the music sat uncomfortably over him, and as the family made ready to leave, he couldn’t help but let everyone pass in front of him, thinking of how even if the scenario in the poem itself wasn’t true, the general idea certainly was real enough.

           Outside the air seemed to clear a bit, and the group fell into happy chatter. Ciri was still on about how bombastic that second song had been; “I can’t believe how loud they got sometimes! It was like the roof was going to fall!” Yennefer said nothing, rubbing her eyes slightly, but the look on her face was one of contentment. And, of course, Jaskier seemed ready to burst, talking this way and that about all sorts of things. “Did you see the way the fiddle bows were all together? And the vibrato on that first flautist, I couldn’t believe it! Shame that vibrato isn’t exactly a lute thing. And I can’t believe how much work the composer must’ve put into those pieces! I mean, I can barely read two clefs, imagine being able to read four! Maybe I should consider that for the next big project…” His voice carried off, and Geralt smiled indulgently, knowing that for the next few months there’d probably be horrendous amount of noise as this bard tried to put all he’d seen to good use in his own music. Inhaling the cool, fresh air, Geralt began to feel the shroud of that last song shake off, reminding him of how beautiful he’d thought the first song was.

           The reverie didn’t last forever though, for as the group made their way out of the stables – Yennefer had insisted on no stays at the inns, for who would spend that much money when there was a perfectly fine home only five miles away – and into the woods the atmosphere seemed much more oppressive. When two men stepped out of the shadows Geralt tensed, wishing he’d brought his swords after all. “What brings you to stop in these dense woods?” Jaskier called out, swinging out of the saddle, a move which caused Geralt’s throat to constrict, and made him simultaneously want to protect and strangle the bard. The men said nothing, and Jaskier shook his head, shrugging his shoulders and holding his hands out to the tall, ragged figures. “Well if you say nothing I cannot help you, and will assume that you’re playing a rather insipid game of hide-and-seek. Now if you don’t mind it’s late, and I’d rather spend a cold night like this in bed than staring a statues.” Going to turn Jaskier stopped in his tracks when one of the men piped up.

           “Those are some nice horses. Nice clothes too.”

           “Oh you think so?” Jaskier turned around. “I’ll admit I do agree my fashion is impeccable, I’m glad you can see that. But unfortunately I think your judgement on horses is rather lacking. I mean of course Lyra is the loveliest girl, but honestly could you say Roach is anything close to nice?” He gestured towards Geralt, who gripped the reins. The men on the road had the sense to look slightly uneasy at the realization that a witcher was amidst the party, but “evidently they had a scarcity of sense, common or otherwise” Jaskier would later say, for they both looked back upon the bard, and the bulkier of the two drew a ragged sword out of its sheath.

           “We’ll be taking Lyra and Roach now. And the horses of those lovely ladies.” The second began walking towards Yennefer and Ciri, the former of who raised her eyebrows, and the latter of who looked extremely unimpressed.

           “Do what you want.” Jaskier threw his hands up, as if in surrender. “I must warn you however that one such lovely lady is unused to having her horse stolen out from underneath her, and I daresay mages aren’t known for their forbearance.” The two men halted for a second, and the one closer to Jaskier turned towards the bard. Geralt by now had begun to slide off Roach, looking backwards to make sure there were only two such men, and taking care to be as silent as possible. Jaskier looked as unruffled as ever, and even when the bulky man took a step towards the bard, he stayed in his position, leaning slightly against Lyra, arms crossed at his chest.

           “It’s no good lying to us.” The bandit, for that was most surely what these two people were, had a voice that could only be accurately described as gravely. He pointed his sword towards the bard. “I’ll have to teach you a lesson.”

           “How menacing of you.” Jaskier deadpanned, and as the man lunged and Geralt made for his weapon it seemed for a moment as if Jaskier was truly about to get struck.

           The surprise on the other man’s face was one of complete terror, as his compatriot dropped like a stone. Jaskier pulled his dirk, now drenched to the hilt in blood, out of the man’s ribcage, turning to Geralt, who was likewise frozen. The last bandit distracted Yennefer made quick work snapping her fingers, and in place of the man soon stood a very confused rabbit. Whirling off her own horse Ciri stepped towards the animal, who made a weird sort of strangled sound before bolting into the forest. Walking over to Geralt, Jaskier handed the Witcher the dirk. “Could you hold this for me? My handkerchief is in my pocket, and this doublet is newly made.” Careful to avoid using his right hand, Jaskier pulled out the square of linen, and wiped his hands and the dirk, before sliding the blade back into its sheath. “Thank you darling!” Jaskier planted a kiss on Geralt’s hand, causing the inevitable blush. The poor Witcher still felt like he’d somehow missed something, and as he looked around at the rest of his family, already back on their horses and starting to move on, the Witcher wondered how he’d become the pacifist in the family.

           The rest of the ride was quite a jumpy one for the Witcher, who kept expecting various monsters, highwaymen, and other of the sort to come jumping out of the trees at any moment. By the time Yennefer’s place was in sight, Geralt felt an immense sense of relief, and as the group all untacked their horses, Ciri, determined to be the fastest of the group, already combing Melusine, Geralt stayed silent, ears trained on the soft sounds of the night outside. The cleaning done and the hay placed in the stables, the family filed back into the house, Geralt at the rear, locking the bolt to both the stables and the house firmly behind him. “Did you enjoy yourself?” Jaskier immediately asked.

           “A bit too long for my taste, but you couldn’t deny the talent.” Yennefer yawned. “Thank you for having us attend Jaskier.”

           “Of course my dear Yennefer.” Jaskier dipped into a short bow. Yennefer snorted and walked up the stairs, the bath was definitely going to be hogged for the next hour or so.

           “I liked all of it!” Ciri declared, plopping down on the rug in front of the fireplace in the main hall. “It reminded me of the kinds of concerts my grandmother liked to see. I was glad to go to such a thing again.” She smiled softly, and Geralt and Jaskier both walked over to the girl, enveloping her in a group hug. Ciri hummed happily. “Thank you both.” And giving each of the two a quick hug she too went up the stairs, closing the room to her door with a bang, as was custom.

           “And you?” Jaskier looked over to Geralt. “Don’t you dare say anything about a filling-less pie this time. I know you lied through your teeth then, and I’ll know you’ll be lying now.” Geralt smiled, old memories swirling through his mind, how long ago that seemed now.

           “I liked it. It was…” he paused, trying to find the right words, “different. All the songs were different, but they all fit together. And I felt, carried away.” He lay back on the carpet and sighed. “I felt almost as if there was a spell in the air.”

           Jaskier nodded, flopping down besides Geralt. “That’s how I feel too about it. You hear this piece sometimes, and, I can’t even describe it but your entire soul is lifted up, and you just start to drown in it, but you don’t even mind, you want to be further enveloped, further dragged in. That’s what true music can do. Cast a spell without magic.” Geralt turned to look at Jaskier, who himself was staring into the fireplace. “One day I’ll do something like that.” He continued, his eyes warm and full of determination. “I’ll create something like that.”

           “I think you already have.” Geralt said, and Jaskier turned to smile at the Witcher.

           “Truly?”

           “Yes. I think, well, I’ve seen how people react to your music. Even those in the shittiest taverns in the shittiest towns. They seem, almost younger, as if their cares have lifted.” Jaskier’s smiled widened, and he pressed a kiss to Geralt’s jaw.

           “Thank you my dea, you have no idea how much that means to me.” Standing up, Jaskier reached out his hand and helped pull Geralt up. “Now be a darling and help wash this dirk, I know that you have your fancy way of cleaning these blades of yours. Then come to bed, it’s late, and I’ll chase away the spirits of the forest.” He laughed at Geralt’s expression. “What? You think I didn’t notice? That last piece seemed to send you out of your skin! And even before that idiotic attempted attack you look ready to throw yourself in front of everything.”

           “Cruel of you to notice.” Geralt replied, and Jaskier laughed.

           “Well then I must be cruel indeed, for I notice everything about you.” He kissed Geralt softly then, and the Witcher felt the familiar feeling of love and contentment wash over him, something he never thought he’d be able to feel in his younger years.

           “There’s nothing cruel about you. Even if you’re wicked with a knife.” And, returning the kiss, Geralt went quickly to take the dirk and wash it off, the music of the evening still in his head and the love for his current life in his heart.

End Notes: For all the music nerds out there, I know that these would all be considered songs rather than pieces, one of these are based off a full symphony, and another based off a string quartet, but seeing as I don't think Geralt would use such terminology, indeed most of said terminology didn't exist in the 13th/14th century, which is the time period I would put this series into the real world, I chose to refer to pieces as songs, composers as songwriters, and make vague mentions of most instruments.

String instruments such as violins, violas, and cello originate from the 16th century, most likely around the 1530s. I took creative liberties again, after all this is a fantasy series.The pieces that are vaguely referenced are as follows: The Lark Ascending by Ralph Vaughan Williams, Dvorak Symphony No. 9 "from the New World", Dvorak String Quartet 12 "American", Rhapsody in Blue by George Gershwin, and Erlkonig originally by Schubert for piano and voice, adapted for solo violin by Heinrich William Ernst and based off a poem by Goethe. The last one is my personal favorite of the lineup and I would highly recommend checking out both the piano and voice lieder and the violin solo (Hilary Hahn's my favorite).

Hope any of you found this enlightening and once again thank you for reading.