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violentdelightsandviolentends · 1 month

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Walk The Line.

Carmen gets a little jealous. You don’t mind in the slightest.

roommate!carmen berzatto x female reader

warnings - smut. cursing. semi public antics.

word count - 2.5k

authors note - ask and you shall receive 😌. i’ll never get enough of roommate!carmy. i’ll be writing him forever. <3

as always, if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging!! reblogs are the only way to circulate my writing, which generates more of it. feel free to send me a comment or an inbox, too!! thanks, my loves!! <3

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He’s a little out of his depth, admittedly.

The invitation had been slid under your front door, pretty handwriting on creamy paper.

“A… party?”

“Does it say party, Carmen?”

“No, it says ‘mixer.’ What the fuck is a mixer?”

You laugh, scrubbing a mark off the final dish in the sink before placing it down in the drying rack. Carmy is sat on the counter across the kitchen, reading the invite over and over.

“Seriously, babe. The fuck does mixer mean? So it isn’t a party?”

You dry your hands and make your way over to take the paper from him, eyes scanning over it carefully.

“A mixer is like… a get to know each other thing. It’s sort of like a party, I guess, but not really. Just a casual gathering type situation.”

“Sounds fucking stupid,” he grumbles.

You smack his shoulder, rolling your eyes.

“Lighten up, asshole. It could be fun.”

“Fun? You think having a mixer with all the neighbours from our building on a Friday night is gonna be fun?”

“I think it sounds like an incredible time. My ideal evening. I can’t wait.”

You can’t even pretend not to laugh, grabbing onto his thigh to keep yourself balanced. He puts his hands on your shoulders, trying to look serious, but the grin fighting its way up his cheeks gives him away.

“You really wanna go?”

“Carm, if it’s terrible, we’ll just lie and say we’ve got plans elsewhere. We’ll run away screaming if we need to. It might be good for us though, to meet our neighbours properly. It’s good to get to know them, just in case we ever need anything.”

“What, like a cup of sugar? What is this, the thirties?”

“When you’re testing recipes and fucking them all up, you might be grateful to be able to nip next door and borrow a cup of sugar.”

“I don’t fuck recipes up.”

“No? Then why were you yelling at a lavender and oat crème brûlée last week?”

“It was mocking me,” he grumbles under his breath, hanging his head.

You can’t help but laugh, moving closer to stand between his manspread legs where he still sits on the counter. You brush a piece of hair back from his forehead, tracing your index finger in a featherlight touch down the bridge of his nose. He looks down at you, eyes glued to yours.

“I know for a fact you don’t have anything else planned on Friday,” you whisper.

He rolls his eyes but leans into your touch anyway, where you’re still tracing along the features of his face.

“You promise we can leave if it’s terrible?”

“We literally live in this building. We can just walk up the stairs and be home.”

He huffs, but relents.

“Fine. But please don’t leave me alone with all of the middle aged moms. They love me.”

“Oh, I’m sure they do,” you giggle, leaning in to rest your head on his chest. His arms encircle you, pulling you as close as he can.

Is this scene too intimate for roommates? Without a doubt.

Do either of you care? Not in the slightest.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

It’s not as bad as he thought it’d be.

The middle aged moms have pulled through, actually. The lobby is decorated with fairy lights, tables covered in alcohol set up against the walls. Everyone has a drink in their hand, chatting and mingling amongst themselves.

You and Carmen walk downstairs a little late. He’d finished his shift and run home to shower and make himself look semi presentable before facing the neighbours.

“We need a signal,” he says suddenly, right as you reach the staircase. “In case of emergencies.”

“Pat your head.”

“Real subtle.”

“It doesn’t need to be subtle, it needs to be noticeable for me.”

“Fine,” he mutters, bumping his shoulder into yours. “Don’t leave me alone with that Erica lady. She scares me.”

“Yes sir,” you mock salute, slipping your hand into his momentarily. “You’ll be fine, Carmen. Like I said, we’ll just leave if it’s awful.”

It’s not awful, actually. It’s quite fun.

It’s nice to get to know the people in your building, seeing as you have lived there for a couple of years now. Carmen has been there even longer.

“Excuse me, sweetheart?”

You turn around to be met with an old lady, leaning carefully on her cane.

“Yes, ma’am?”

“I’m Dorothy. I live in 2B, and I just had to tell you that you look beautiful in your dress.”

You smile, pulling out a chair for her, which she takes gladly. You sit down next to her, spotting Carmy chatting with a couple of guys across the room.

“Thank you so much!”

You introduce yourself, telling her your name and apartment number.

“Ah yes,” she hums in recognition. “You live with your boyfriend who has all the tattoos.”

You almost choke on your drink.

“We’re just roommates,” you say eventually. “But yes, that’s him.”

“Oh, my apologies. I just assumed.”

You’re curious, suddenly. You know you shouldn’t be, but you can’t help yourself.

“Can I ask? Why you… thought we were dating?”

She chuckles knowingly before placing a hand on your knee.

“Honey, he’s got a hand on you at all times. He looks at you like you are the sun. Every time you walk past my window, you’re both laughing. Sounds like love to me.”

Her bluntness is refreshing, if not a little intimidating. No one will say it how it is more than a little old lady who can’t mind her business.

“We, uh… we’re close. He’s a good roommate. A good friend.”

She doesn’t look convinced in the slightest, chuckling as she pats your leg.

“Uh huh. That’s what I said about my husband - real good friend. We’ve been married 58 years.”

You smile, shaking your head.

“Is he here with you?”

“He’s upstairs. He can’t really leave the apartment, these days.”

“You know, if you ever need anything, me and Carmen would be happy to help.”

“No, sweetheart, I couldn’t ask you to-”

“-you’re not asking me, I’m offering. Carmen is an award winning chef at one of the best restaurants in this city. He’d be more than happy to make a meal or two when needed. And I can pick you guys up stuff from the grocery store when I go, too.”

“Thank you,” she whispers, grabbing your hand in her frail one. “You’re good kids, you two.”

You grin at her, squeezing her hand gently.

“You know where I am, if you need me.”

She nods, standing up carefully.

“I’m going to go see if that handsome Jeremy will come and fix my shower for me. He did promise.”

You laugh, watching as she makes a beeline for one of the dads stood in a huddle. You catch eyes with Carmy, who’s still chatting away with a few of the younger guys. He winks at you, all cheeky and carefree, and you can’t help but flush, heat prickling across your skin. You shake your head, smiling, winking back.

Suddenly, there’s a hand on your bicep. You spin sideways, to be met with the sight of a very handsome man. Dark hair, big brown eyes, tall - he looks slightly like a movie star you can’t quite remember the name of. You crane your neck to meet his gaze, smiling softly.

He holds out his hand to introduce himself.

“Hi, I’m Daniel.”

You tell him your name, trying to ignore how his hand engulfs yours.

“Pretty name for a pretty girl.”

You laugh, shaking your head.

“Have you lived here long? Think I’d remember a face like yours.”

Now he shakes his head.

“A month, maybe. I live in 6C. I’ve been working a lot, so haven’t had any time for introductions.”

“Ah. What do you do?”

“I’m a model.”

Of course he is.

“What do you do?”

As you start to tell him, his eyes fix on yours, not leaving for a moment. He listens carefully, both of you blocking out the noise and focusing on each other.

Turns out, Daniel is good company. The two of you find a spot in the corner, away from the noise and the wine drunk moms. The two of you laugh, joke, and talk about Chicago as if you’re old friends. Time slips away from you easily, conversation flowing with minimal effort.

“I don’t want to leave, trust me… but I have a super early call time tomorrow. If you wanted, we could grab a drink sometime, somewhere that’s not our buildings lobby?”

You laugh, nodding.

“Yeah, I’d like that. It was nice to meet you, Daniel.”

“You too. Here,” he says, handing you a small business card with his number on, “text me.”

“I might do just that,” you tease as he walks away grinning.

You’re on your way to grab another drink when a hand slinks around your wrist.

“Hi, Carmen.”

You don’t even have to turn to know who it is, recognising the feeling of his calloused hand against your soft skin.

“Where’s your friend gone?” he all but grumbles.

“He’s gone home, got to be up early for work.”

“Haven’t we all.”

“Ooo, okay Mr Attitude. You’re not having a good night? You didn’t give me the signal.”

“Would you have noticed if I did?”

You spin around to face him properly now.

“Yes, I would have. Because we’re in a tiny fucking lobby and not a football stadium, Carmen.”

He huffs.

“Didn’t think you’d notice if the building fell down, the way you were lost in his eyes.”

“I know it’s a foreign concept to you, Carmen, but eye contact is actually a very important part of conversation. Try it some time.”

Carmy rolls his eyes, grip on your wrist tightening.

“Come on,” he mumbles. “Wanna show you something.”

He practically drags you up the stairs, and up some more, and up some more. Eventually, you reach the roof.

The sun is just setting, casting the city in a warm orange glow. Everything is so calm, so peaceful, so serene. It’s beautiful.

You’re admiring the view when suddenly your feet are no longer on the ground. Carmy has you over his shoulder, carrying you across the rooftop to the brick wall.

“The fuck are you doing?” you cry as he finally puts you down.

He smashes his lips to yours, choosing to shut you up rather than answer you. You kiss back eagerly, confused but not disappointed at the turn in events. Slipping your hands into his hair, you tug him into you, groaning as he grabs at your ass.

“Carmen,” you breathe, “why don’t we just go home?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” he mumbles against your neck, pressing kisses wherever he can reach. When he bites down, you smack his shoulder.

“No marks, asshole. The fuck is up with you?”

Again, he says nothing, just slips his hand under your dress to run his fingers over your underwear. You part your legs instantly, leaning back into the wall to steady yourself.

“Carmen, someone’s gonna see if they come up here.”

“Well then you better come quickly.”

He slips your panties to the side, running his fingers through your wet heat. You keen, knees buckling already.

“Oh baby,” he chuckles. “This all for Daniel?”

It all clicks for you suddenly.

“That’s what-” you choke as he slides a finger into you. “That’s what - fuck - has you so riled up? Daniel?”

“Don’t say his name when I’m knuckle deep, baby. It’s rude.”

You attempt to scoff, but it comes out as more of a moan when he presses his thumb to your clit, circling carefully.

“Am I not giving you what you need, honey? Is that it? Greedy girl just wants more, so she looks elsewhere to get it?”

“No,” you justify quickly. “You know that’s not true.”

“If you can still form sentences, I’m clearly doing something wrong.”

He slips a second finger in, curling them exactly the way he knows you like.

“Carm.”

“He couldn’t make you feel like this, babe. You and I both know it.”

You’re nodding, fingers gripping his shirt tightly as if you’re scared he’s going to walk away. His lips press into your neck again, nipping along the expanse of skin.

“Say it.”

“Hmm?”

You’re dazed, mind hazy with Carmen Carmen Carmen Carmen Carmen.

“Say. It.”

He punctuates his words by curling his fingers harshly. You’re seeing stars, legs giving out.

“He - he… fuck, Carmen, please.”

“So close, honey. Try again.”

You know he won’t relent. He never does, when he’s in a mood. You have to just give him what he wants.

“He couldn’t make me feel this good, Carm. It’s all for you, only you.”

“Good girl. Knew you could do it.”

With that, he speeds up his fingers, his other arm snaking around your back to keep you standing upright.

“Give it to me, baby. Know you want to. That’s it, atta girl.”

“Come for me, there we go. Can feel you.”

“Good girl, good fuckin’ girl. So pretty like this.”

You fall over the edge, clenching like a vice around his fingers as you throw your head back. There’s a sheen of sweat coating your skin, chest heaving with every breath you take. Your vision goes white for a second, gripping onto Carmy’s biceps for dear life.

You rest your forehead against his chest, panting as you try to recover.

“Jealous Carmen is kinda mean,” you mumble into his shirt.

He laughs, wrapping his arms around you.

“You know I didn’t mean it, right? You’re free to date whoever you want. You could do a lot worse than Daniel the hot supermodel.”

You pull back, looking at him carefully.

“I know. I just… I don’t know if I’ll go. Seems a bit unfair to date him when my mind is on someone else.”

You both know exactly who you mean. You both also know that tipsy on a rooftop is not the place to have that conversation.

“Did you ever master the lavender crème brûlée?”

He chuckles, not expecting the sudden change in subject.

“Yes, I did.”

“Do we have any left?”

“We don’t. But I did make chocolate soufflé this afternoon, if that’ll satisfy your sweet tooth.”

“Fuck, yes,” you grin, leaning in to kiss him tenderly.

“I’ll make you a crème brûlée in work tomorrow. Promise.”

“Will you make two extras?”

He quirks a brow in confusion, so you continue.

“We’ve got two elderly neighbours. They’re not very mobile, so I said we’d drop stuff off every now and again.”

He smiles at you, all soft and melted.

“Of course. That heart of yours is too big for your chest, you know.”

You take hold of his hand, placing it there.

“Only sometimes.”

He kisses you again before throwing an arm over your shoulders.

“Let’s go eat chocolate soufflés and drink the rest of that wine you bought.”

“You’re a mind reader,” you laugh, making your way downstairs.

Maybe he is, you think later. You don’t mind in the slightest.

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runningfrom2am · 3 months

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gem of panem // LTPF

summary: introducing regulus and regan snow; son and daughter of the most powerful couple the country has ever seen. the real gems of panem.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 4.2k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: dad!coryo!! finally!!, gamemaker!reader, this time the capitol brats are their kids, also a little bit of violence in this one!! some very minor medical procedure descriptions (trypanophobia havers beware- although that's me so i was VERY vague with descriptions otherwise i would have made myself cry)

a/n: i've had dad!coryo requested for this series a few times so here's a taste of that and an introduction to their kids!! ahh I've been working on this for so long i hope you guys love it :)

series masterlist // playlist

"I simply do not have time for this. Notify my husband." You wave off your assistant as you stand over the large round table in your laboratory.

"I- uh, your husband, Doctor Snow?" The young girl stammers.

"I don't believe I stuttered, did I?"

"No, Doctor. I just... I am uncertain he will be available right now."

You look up from the scattered pile of papers, and you can see her tense up. "I understand that he's our president, but he is also a father. He is more 'available' than I am a week before the games! Now go, he shall handle it."

"Yes, okay. I will, I'm sorry." She agrees, already pacing away and out of your sight and you get back to work, resisting the urge to attempt at rubbing away your now growing migraine.

"President Snow, sir?" Coryo looks up from his desk as one of his people opens the door for your assistant.

"Serena, my wife sent you?" He asks, standing quickly. It wasn't standard that you would send her instead of showing up yourself, or even just waiting until the end of the day to tell him over dinner.

"Yes, sir." She nods, looking down at her notepad. "Her office got a call from the academy, about an hour ago. They wished to speak with her about your son, sir. In person."

Coryo furrows his brow, already standing and grabbing his red overcoat. "Did something happen?" Why would they call the head gamemaker and demand her presence a week before the games? That seems incredibly careless.

"They wouldn't tell me anything other than the fact he is safe and not injured, sir."

He nods slightly, already brushing past her out the door. "Call the school, tell them I am on my way."

Coryo gets out of the black car, pacing up to the elementary wing of the academy's campus, a building he is far too familiar with. Walking in, he watches the receptionists eyes go wide as they both stare at him. He clears his throat.

"Where is my son?" He asks flatly.

"In the Deans office, President Snow." She replies and he nods, rubbing his jaw.

"Whose decision was it to call on my wife a week before the games are set to begin?"

Her face pales. "Well, um, she is the primary emergency contact for him, it is procedure to make that call first."

"So it was you?"

"Yes, sir."

Coryo leans onto the counter that separated them. "Right, well, maybe we should work on our critical thinking skills next time if we want to keep our jobs, yes?"

"Yes. I'm sorry. It won't happen again." He smiles slightly at her response, tapping his hand on the granite counter before walking off down the private hall.

He enters without knocking, practically slamming the door open and immediately searching the unnecessarily large office for your son. "Regulus, are you alright?" He asks, approaching the boy quickly when he sees him sitting in a chair in the corner of the room.

"Dad, I'm fine..." He mutters, arms crossed over his chest as he pouts.

Coryo crouches down in front of him, examining him closely.

"Coriolanus, I was surprised to get your call." The new Dean says, drawing his attention as he stands back up.

"Why is that?" Coryo asks, turning to his former classmate with a raised eyebrow.

She shrugs, standing behind her desk with her hands in her pockets. "We called for Y/N."

"A week before the games." He nods, approaching the desk slowly. "Are you not happier to see me than her, timing considered?"

"That's a good point." Persephone chuckles.

"Yes, she was not pleased you even called." Coryo replies, knowing he didn't even speak with you directly. "So please, tell me what is so important that you needed to interrupt both of our schedules."

"Right, yes. Please take a seat." She gestured toward the chair across from her own and he sits, only because it's polite. "So," She flips over a page in the notebook in front of her. "Regulus hit another student."

Coryo's eyebrows raise, and he turns to look at his son who's still pouting in the corner. "Come here, please." He pages him, and he saunters over, refusing to make eye contact with either of the adults in the room.

"Why?" Coryo asks him as he takes the empty seat next to him. The boy shrugs, still avoiding their gaze.

Coryo sighs. "Would you mind, Persephone? What happened?"

"Apparently..." She glances at her notes again. "Another student took his pencil without asking first and didn't give it back because, quote, 'they needed it and he had plenty'." She explains, looking up at them again. Regulus was the striking image of his father, his hair in the same longer somewhat disheveled curls that she used to remember on the man sitting next to him when they were that age.

"That's it?" Coryo asks.

"He hit him on the head, he's in the nurses office now being assessed for a concussion."

"Okay..?" He chuckles slightly in response. "Why did you have to call us?"

"Because this is a serious disciplinary issue." She scoffs, gesturing to his son.

Coryo looks between the two of them. "Okay, well, he looks like he feels bad, and I'll have my staff send an apology letter to the boys parents." He says, standing up again and tucking the chair back in. "Come on, kid. Let's go."

"Coriolanus, respectfully, this is more severe than that." Persephone interrupts. "We won't allow students to go around hurting others- especially over something so menial as a pencil. Eight years is too old for that kind of behaviour."

"You know his mother- don't you?" Coryo asks, raising an eyebrow at her. "I promise you, Dean Price, this is not serious." He turns then to his son. "Grab your stuff, I'll take you home." He says, and the little blonde boy rushes back to the corner to grab his bag.

"Coriolanus." She says again, exasperated by his lack of concern.

"Oh, and please tell the other boy that theft is not tolerated in Panem. He's lucky we won't have him executed." Coryo says, feigning a genuine smile at her with a sharp nod. He knows this isn't true, that executing a child over something so petty would never be considered in the Capitol, it would just be wasteful, but maybe next time he would think before stealing from the Presidents son.

She gives up at this, sighing as they walk toward the door.

Coryo shuts the door behind them, reaching forward to ruffle his son's hair.

The boy giggles, pouting and trying to fix it. "Dad.." He laughs, looking back up at him. "You're not upset with me, are you?"

"No, of course not." He grins, leaning down and placing a hand on his shoulder as they walk. "Did you know that your Dean is a cannibal?" He whispers, giving a quick nod to the girls at the reception desk as they pass.

Regulus gasps, looking up at him. "Is she really?"

"Yes." Coryo nods. "Tell your friends."

"Ew..." His son shivers, and Coryo smiles.

"I know right? Gross." He laughs quietly as they step out into the hall. "Now, where's your sister?"

"She's in English." Regulus answers and Coryo nods, leading him up the stairs and toward the classroom.

Once again, Coryo doesn't bother knocking before opening the door to his daughter's classroom.

Everyone looks up at once and the teacher pauses, gasps and whispers filling the room.

"Daddy!" Regan smiles, standing quickly and running down the stairs to the door, throwing her arms around his waist.

"Hi, Gem." He chuckles slightly, rubbing her back as she clings to him.

"President Snow..." The teacher smiles nervously. "We weren't expecting a visit today, but we were just discussing the significance of The Hunger Games and it's depictions in literature, would you care to comment?"

"Oh, interesting!" He grins, glancing back to Regulus waiting just outside. "I would love to, but Regan's mother is really the one to speak to about all that. Unfortunately, I'm busy today but perhaps we can get her in one day to speak in one of your lessons?"

"That would be wonderful." Her teacher smiles. "Then, what brings you in?"

"Oh, yes. Sorry for interrupting, but I'll be pulling Regan for the day." He explains and his daughter gasps, looking up at him with excitement. "Yeah." He whispers to her, patting her head. "Go get your things."

"Oh! Okay, did you sign her out? Typically they would call me beforehand." The teacher replies as Regan goes back to her seat, grabbing her things and being not so sneaky about sticking her tongue out at her classmates.

"No, I just decided to grab her while I was here. Just call the office and let them know I took her." He smiles, opening his arm to his daughter again as she comes back.

Regan practically skips out of the room, super excited to be free of something she already hears about endlessly at home. "What happened, Daddy? Why are we leaving?" She asks, grabbing her father's hand.

"Well, my schedule cleared up and I just thought 'Hm... I sure am missing my favourite girl today,' and then I remembered your last report card and how incredibly well you are doing and decided you deserved a day off."

"Really?!" She squeals, practically vibrating with excitement.

"Of course, Sweetheart." Coryo chuckles, scooping her up to carry her down the stairs.

"Lux, what would you like to do today? Anything you want." He looks down at the boy walking next to them.

"Uh, I'm not sure."

"Daddy, can we go see Mum?" Regan asks, looking up at him with a hopeful sparkle in her eyes. "I want to see her pets!"

Coryo chews the inside of his cheek. It's certainly not a good time, but if he would be with them maybe they could just sneak in to say hello. He found it extremely difficult to say no to her. "Sure, Darling." He nods, opening the front door to the academy.

"Okay, remember, Mum is very busy so we're just going to pop in to say hello, and if she says it's okay we can go see her pets." Coryo explains to the kids as they get out of the car outside the Citadel. "We're going to be quiet, and not touch a single thing unless I say it's okay."

Regan's blonde pigtails bounce as she runs up the stairs in front of the building, having abandoned her bag in the car. Regulus is right on her heels, reaching for her hair as if he's going to pull it.

They were under a year apart in age, 'district twins', as Ma Plinth had dubbed them when Regan was born. When you were expecting your son, the games were difficult to plan and execute. You would never admit it, but Coryo could see that the hormones of pregnancy made you almost sympathetic to the tributes and their families- you could hardly even watch the games you spent a year meticulously planning. You spent most of the time you could watch with a bucket in your lap. So when Coryo suggested you have your second right away, you were skeptical. You didn't want to go through that again right away, but he wasn't sure he could convince you to do it again if you decided to wait.

"Let's just get it over with," He had insisted. "Then we'll have our two beautiful babies and you'll never have to do it again. Everything will go back to normal." You couldn't argue with that logic.

So when Regulus was eleven months old, the Capitol was buzzing with excitement over the announcement that the First Lady of Panem had given birth to another child; a baby girl, and she was perfect.

"Gem of Panem! What do we have here?" Your receptionist grins as the three of them stroll in, eyes locked on the kids as Regan holds her head high. The receptionist is rounding the desk, crouching down and opening her arms for the little girl who happily runs into them. "If it isn't the real gem of Panem, how are you, Miss Regan?"

"I'm good." Regan giggles, arms wrapped around the woman's neck. "Daddy picked me up from school early."

"I see that." She chuckles, standing up and lifting the seven year old onto her hip as she looks at Coryo.

"I decided to let the kids have the rest of the day off today, and they wanted to come say hi to Doctor Snow." He explains. "If she has a moment."

"Oh, that's a good question..." The woman nods, gently lowering Regan back to the ground and circling the desk again, pulling up the paper schedule and scanning over it for a moment. "You know what, let me call her and just ask."

Your phone rings on your desk in the corner and you sigh, heels clicking across the floor as you pace over. "I swear to god if it is the school again..." You mumble to yourself, picking up the line. "What is it?"

"Doctor Snow, sorry to bug you, but your family is here."

"My family..." You ask, mind still set on the technical details of the almost prepared arena.

"Yes, Doctor. President Snow has brought your children by, they wish to see you, but only if you have time."

You blink, realizing what she said. "Okay, yes. That's fine. Send them down."

You can hear your kids before you see them, Regan talking away mostly to herself as they step out of the elevator into the part of your lab that held your office. You sigh, quickly removing your leather gloves and fixing the disheveled state of your hair before stepping out into the hall to greet them.

"Mummy!" Your daughter squeals, running toward you as you crouch down to catch her in your arms.

"Hi, Gem..." You laugh slightly, eyes now focussed on Regulus. He's shifting on his feet, standing so close to his father's side that he's almost standing behind him.

"Lux," You let your daughter go, opening your arms to him. "Come here, darling. What's wrong? What happened?"

He doesn't say anything, eyes locked on the ground as he walks up to you and leans into your shoulder. "Are you hurt?" He slightly shakes his head and you pick him up, allowing him to wrap his legs around your waist and arms around your neck.

You look pointedly at your husband.

'I'll tell you about it later' He mouths to you and you nod, gently rubbing circles into the boys back while Regan pulls on your lab coat impatiently.

"Mummm," She whines, already stomping her foot on the ground since your attention was no longer on her. "Mum, I want to see your pets and Daddy said we could."

"I said maybe, Gem." Coryo laughs slightly.

You chew on your lip, not minding the deteriorating state of your red lipstick. You were really anxious to find out what happened with Regulus, so maybe letting the kids entertain themselves for just a moment would allow you a second to talk to Coryo about it.

"Sure, of course you can. We'll just have to be quick, Mum is very busy today." You smile, gently putting your son down as his head perks up at the idea. "Come on." You take his hand, leading them all down the hall to one particularly safe section of your lab.

There are a series of mutts under testing and development here, but in this room close to your office, it contained only small animals like mice and rats, or bugs that the kids never showed much interest in. "Don't touch a thing, okay?" You tell them as you unlock the door.

The kids rush in, running up to a tank and immediately gawking at its contents. You didn't understand why, fully, since they just looked like regular old house mice. Your kids just wanted to be involved, you supposed. The same way Regan enjoyed sitting on Coryo's lap while he gave speeches or did interviews, but Regulus had always shown more of an interest in what you did behind the scenes, not just in front of the cameras.

"What happened?" You ask Coryo quietly as soon as they are sufficiently occupied.

Coryo chuckles, wrapping an arm around your waist and kissing your cheek as you keep your eyes locked on the kids. "Hello to you too."

You sigh, smiling as you lean into him. "Hi. Sorry. I'm just a little stressed."

"I know, love. Don't worry about it." He squeezes your side. "We'll get out of your hair in a few minutes."

"What happened with him?" You ask again.

"He hit another kid." Coryo states plainly and you gasp, turning to fully look at him for the first time.

"What?" You ask, searching his expression for any clue that he may have been kidding.

He shrugs. "They stole his pencil and refused to give it back."

"Oh, well, then they deserved it." You scoff. "Little brat- did you get the names of the parents?"

He laughs quietly, shaking his head and reaching up to hold your cheek. "I handled it. Don't worry about a thing." You don't have the chance to argue before he's kissing you to hush any of your concerns.

You hum against his lips, pressing a hand to his chest. "But, Coryo-"

"I handled it." He reminds you, just gently biting down on your lower lip. You can feel him smiling against you and you hum, allowing yourself to relax for just a moment.

Coryo takes the opportunity to turn to face you fully, dragging his hands down over your hips and backing you against the wall just behind you.

The kids were there, yes, but they were well used to seeing you kiss. It didn't bother either of you, and they had never known anything else. One day they may complain, but until that day came you would take every opportunity granted to you within your mutually tight schedules. Besides, the kids should know what love looks like. High expectations are good expectations, in your opinion.

The moment is interrupted by your phone ringing in your office down the hall and you quickly take a step back. With the tributes already in the Capitol, you couldn't afford to miss a call. Anything could happen- you know that story well.

"I'm sorry, I need to get that." You say and he nods as you turn to the kids. "Lux, Gem, come on. Time to go."

"Mum!" Regan whines, stomping her foot down as she always tended to do. "We just got here, can't we stay a few more minutes?"

"No, Regan. Out. Come on." You motion for them to come and they do, but your daughter in particular looks extremely unpleased as she stomps past you and out the door while Regulus follows with his hands tucked in his pockets. You turn off the light and lock the door.

"Okay, I'll see you at home tonight. Yes?" You kiss your husbands cheek and he smiles, giving you another quick kiss before you disappear into your office and shut the door behind you.

You take the call, and of course it was nothing of importance. So many things had to be run by you as head gamemaker that they felt it necessary to call and confirm the contents of what would be fed to the tributes. It never ended.

You don't even get the time to process where you had left off with your work before you're overwhelmed by voices. Your name being yelled by your husband accompanied by screaming, horrified pained screaming- which you quickly identify as coming from Regan. Your motherly instincts kick in before you even know it and you're throwing your door back open and are standing in the hall.

Coryo rushes out of the elevator with your daughter in his arms, his eyes wide as he moves quickly toward you. "It bit her! Something bit her- I don't know, I-"

You nod; there's no time for questions. "Okay, get her to the exam room." Moving as quickly as possible down the hall, you're grabbing at her little red blazer and pulling the sleeves up as she keeps screaming bloody murder.

You shove the door open and rush inside, for the first time noticing Regulus following behind you. You grab his shirt and pull him in while Coryo quickly lays her on the table. Even in the panic, you couldn't leave him unsupervised anywhere in the lab. Especially if something had escaped.

"Get her top unbuttoned, I'll need her arm free!" You tell Coryo as you shuffle around through the cupboard quickly trying to find everything you were looking for. A syringe, the antidote for whatever it may be. You don't even know. Glancing over your shoulder, her skin looks flushed with red patches showing up on her neck and face; but it could just be from crying.

Coryo's hands are shaking as his daughter continues to scream and cry in his face, making it harder for him to get her blazer off and unbutton her top. "You're going to be okay, darling. Shh, shh... Mum's gonna help." All he can think about while he pulls off her blazer and frees her arms from the little blue shirt is the time that he saw Clemensia Dovecote get bit by one of Gaul's snakes. He thought she was dead, and she walked out of the hospital wishing that she was. She never recovered- but she was quickly given treatment. Much quicker than his seven-year-old daughter, who is also significantly smaller than his friend was at the time.

"What was it? Did you see what it was?" You ask in a panic, bringing over a box and flinging it open next to her on the table.

"I didn't see it! I just saw-"

"It was a mouse." Regulus says, and Coryo turns to him with wide eyes. Luckily, you're all action and you're already filling the syringe with something that should counteract whatever effects the mouse's bite could have on her while he stares at his son. He looks calm, watching the scene with a tilted head. "It was just a mouse, Daddy."

Coryo looks away, grabbing Regan's hand and squeezing it. He didn't have the chance to tell you that whatever it was, apparently this "mouse", had been dropped down the back of Regan's shirt by her brother as soon as the elevator began to lift them. He had done it on purpose. Though, he couldn't have known what was wrong with the creature.

"This is just gonna be a pinch, Gem. Try and take a deep breath for me..." You tell her as you squeeze her arm. She makes no effort to do so, but knowing that the mice were only being designed to cause pain, it didn't surprise you.

"There you go, good girl..." Coryo coos at her as you just as quickly remove the needle, quickly disposing of it as he brushes her hair back from where it clung to her face. Immediately he can see the blood returning to her face, and she's still crying but whatever it was you gave her must have helped with the pain instantly.

"She'll be okay." You sigh in relief, rejoining his side and lifting Regan up so she's sitting. "Can you hold her? I just need to find the bite."

Coryo sits on the table, lifting her into his lap as you look over her arms and ankles. "It's on her back." He tells you, repositioning her carefully so you could see. She wasn't screaming anymore, just sniffling with eyes drooping shut.

You furrow your brow, stepping to his other side to get a look at it, seeing the small swelling area at the top of her back. You grab some disinfectant to quickly clean it before you dress it properly. "What happened?" You ask. "Did she fall?" It was unclear to you how she could have been bitten in such a place without being on the ground.

Coryo doesn't say anything, shifting his gaze over to Regulus again. He's watching you closely and how you're treating the bite, eyes trained on your gloved hands.

When your husband doesn't answer you immediately you look up at him again, and then follow his eyes to your son. "What did you do?" You ask him, plastering the gauze onto your daughter's back.

"I just wanted to know what would happen, Mummy." He says simply.

"You knew what would happen, Lux. I've told you so many times not to touch anything. That it's not safe, and one of you could get hurt." You frown, packing up your first aid kit before going over to him, and kneeling down in front of the blonde boy. "I know you're interested in what I do, and I love that, but if you have questions you have to ask. Not do experiments yourself."

You grab his arms to get him to look at you again. "Hey, I'm not mad at you." You say softly. "I just need you to be careful. You're smarter than this."

He nods, wrapping his arms around your neck and hugging you. You sigh as you hug him back. "You can't hurt your sister, darling. We're a team. Do you understand?"

"I do. It was just a mouse, I didn't think it would be that bad. I'm sorry." He agrees quietly, eyes still locked on his sister as his dad cradles her gently in his arms. She's passed out against his chest, holding her as close as he possibly can.

He shakes his head at his son, trying to display his clear disappointment. It would quickly be noticed if his daughter, the President's daughter, fell ill, and he knew he would have to jump through hoops to cover up her recovery and that the very reason for it was her own brother.

Regulus Snow was his mother's son, and Coriolanus didn't believe his apology one bit.

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horseshoegirl · 29 days

Text

Set Me Alight: Part 8 - Salt and The Sea

📜Everyone has been on a Bob kick lately (I think), so this is coming right when it should! Let's see how Grace and Bob feel about all this. Shall we? 👀

‼️ - +18, Minors DNI, Strong Language, Original Female Character (s), Bradley Bradshaw x Natasha Trace, Bob Floyd x Original Female Character (This is all in their perspective), Angst, mentions of bullying, hurt, overheard fights, preventing a panic attack, frustration, and Grace being sad and done with Bullshit.

#4.6k

Part 7 | Masterlist | Part 9

Present Day

Sixteen hours.

That's how long Bob's carefully guarded, carefully constructed walls took to crumble after all these years.

There was an inkling the night before as he settled into his tent, a feeling that knocked once or twice from the inside of his chest. It wasn't there when he woke up this morning or during the trek here to the falls.

But the second Grace raced up behind him, everyone watching Veronica climb out of the water, that feeling returned. It seemed no longer content to sit around and wait for Bob to figure out why it had.

Grace grasped his hand, pulling herself to hide behind his body so she could stifle her giggles into the back of his shoulder. Bob couldn't help the few snorts that shook through his body either. However, he pitied Javy, watching as he tried to console his girlfriend, who was stomping her foot like a three-year-old child over the fact that her makeup had been ruined.

The both of them couldn't say it wasn't an unwelcome sight. They knew what you had done, catching you hooking something onto the loop of Veronica's jeans, knowing it was damn well meant for Jake. Though the pair knew better than to act on it, they imagined themselves holding up a fist to the air, like in the Breakfast Club, silently praising the act of Karma on your behalf.

Maybe even quietly counting tallies next to your name in Bob's traveller's journal.

You needed a win. A big win against one of those two. They weren't going to say shit about it. They only wished, deep down, they could have helped.

But when Bradley took you by the arm, leading you way, another knock, this time harder, thumped in his chest. Another followed it. And another, until that feeling morphed into what Bob could only describe as a white-hot pain, burning every nerve in the pit of his stomach.

Bob knew what was about to happen.

While there hadn't been much to discuss, Bradley had pulled all the guys together after you went to bed last night to discuss his proposal. Standing in that circle, Bob realized it had been more of a pep talk than anything else.

Everyone already had a predetermined role—some part to play in helping Nat get to the right spot. Bob and Grace merely had to act surprised, with the rest of the group save Jake, you, and Rueben, when they eventually emerged from the bush, a shiny new ring hopefully on her finger.

It was a horrible plan, he had thought then. He knew—more so than most—that involving Jake and you in such an event would only result in disaster. He even had said as much to Grace when he turned in for the night, climbing into their shared tent.

Grace merely highlighted Nat's inconsiderate behaviour regarding your feelings, turning her back to him as she settled into her sleeping bag. The action was so absolute, so final, they said nothing else about it the rest of the night.

But laying awake, staring at Grace's back, Bob couldn't help but think about it. Grace was right. With all the shit Jake and you threw at each other since the moment you two met, Nat would have to be completely stupid not to realize just how fucked up it was not to tell you Jake would be coming on this trip.

It wasn't the first time Grace brought it up, either. Bob knew how his girlfriend felt about Nat, you, the entire group, their inability to stand up for you, and their failure to separate themselves from Nat.

He'd be lying if he hadn't felt the same at one point or another.

But Bob knew why everyone didn't, why he didn't, and why, even to some extent, Jake didn't either, even if he was more verbal about it than anyone else.

From behind the scenes, everyone tried to protect you and themselves from a fallout with Natasha. Not the fallout itself but the aftermath. At that point, he had rolled on his back, trying to figure it all out from the safety and privacy of his tent.

But who was he kidding? There was nothing to figure out.

Nat's scandal was an anvil, and her history and behaviour were hanging over every person in the group by a single thread. Even in the years since it happened, since they had all left school and Grace and Cora joined the group, it still had everyone in a chokehold.

And you were oblivious to it all.

Bob wasn't sure when it happened, but it became an unspoken agreement to protect you from that truth. So they were burying it to keep the peace—at least, everyone but Bradley. Bob couldn't say what was happening inside his friend's head, nor would he ask him.

But nobody would go out of their way to upset the group's 'supposed' hierarchy—not when real friendships and relationships, whether made with Nat's influence or not, were at stake.

You had to deal with the brunt of it, and Bob would regret it every day for the rest of his life.

No kind words or assurances could help the cluster of nerves swimming in Bob's stomach when Grace hooked her arm through his. Leading him to a section of the pond free from tourists, she wanted to avoid the temper tantrum Javy and Rueben, to an extent, would have to deal with. Seeing fish in the water earlier and knowing Bob would get a kick out of trying to identify them, she welcomed the distraction.

But as the pair searched through their books to match the first fish they saw, the first shout vibrated through the air, and Bob felt like he was going to hurl.

There was no mistaking it for what it was. Nat was, for lack of a better word, shitting on you and Jake. It was loud. It was scary. And no matter where anyone went, it was impossible to block out the noise.

They stood there, staring down at the words and diagrams in their books, no longer interested in the fish, scared any movement or action would have them on a chopping block. Though her eyes blurred, Grace was sure there were no more fish to look at anyway, for they, too, would have felt the noise vibrate against the water and would have been scared away.

At least they felt like they were able to.

When it finally fell silent, Grace nervously reached for Bob's hand. She led them away from the water through a tiny gap in the bush, deep into the forest. She didn't dare stop, walking blindly for minutes until she saw a little nook encased by a massive tree.

Its branches hung low, as did those of the surrounding trees. Each covered the space in a vibrant green shade, offering a safe place from the events leading up to this moment. A giant, thick tree root rested above the ground, and Grace pulled Bob down as she sat upon it.

Neither one spoke, nervous to say anything. Birds, the wind and bugs filled this space instead. It could have been hours, though Grace started to play with Bob's fingers only minutes later. He let her slide her fingertips over his skin and grasp around each finger until she smoothly threaded each together. Over and over, she did this, never once altering her pattern or rhythm.

Grace was trying to ground herself. And for Bob, it made everything that much worse.

It had been sixteen hours to the dot since that first knock in his chest. And while Bob had admitted last night and perhaps now that the trip, the excuses, the group dynamic, Nat's behaviour—was hopelessly warped—the truth was he had known for days, months, maybe even years.

He'd simply shoved it all deep down under lock and key, partly for selfish reasons. Sixteen hours was merely all the time it took for that lock to break and for everything to come rushing back to the surface. Because while the person he loved was hurting on behalf of someone else, it was too silent in this forest, even at this distance.

It was the lack of you and Jake tearing each other apart.

"I think something happened to Jake and Maeve," Bob said in a rough voice, finally finding the courage to speak.

Grace's hands froze, not moving an inch. She lifted her head, eyebrows knitting together. Bob didn't meet her gaze, too nervous to look away from their joined hands.

"It's too quiet," he offered softly. "Especially after that."

Grace also dropped her eyes to their hands, biting the inside of her cheek hard. "She'd be tearing into him right now. Forget Nat. Maeve would clear out the whole damn park with a single shout."

Bob nodded absentmindedly, turning his hand to mock Grace's earlier pattern, a silent gesture to let her know he had been paying attention.

"Or she'd be running off to apologize to Nat, and Jake would be seeking us out, tail between his legs."

"Nat should be the one apologizing to her."

Grace's statement was so blunt and sharp that Bob feathered his jaw. And something in that quick movement made a thread in Grace's gentle heart snap.

She tore her hand from Bob's grip and shuffled away from him further down the log. She swallowed hard, refusing to turn back and look at him as she fiddled with a ring on her finger. When Bob went to follow, naturally reaching for her like it was second nature, she shuffled again.

"No," she mumbled lowly, shying away from his touch. Bob frowned, sliding closer once again, softly calling her name. But Grace only pushed herself up from the log, her fists balled and clenched tight. "No!"

She stomped forward a few steps, not wanting to leave the found safety of their little nook. Threading her fingers through her hair, she paced back and forth, trying to count her breath.

"Grace..."

She spun wildly, her eyes narrowing, her lips pressing into a thin line, and her jaw clenching. "Don't 'Grace' me," she gritted out behind her teeth.

Bob dropped his forehead into the palm of his hand, his elbow digging hard into his knee. "Don't..."

"Don't what, exactly?" she seethed. "Don't talk about 'it'?

Bob dug his nails into the denim of his jeans - enough to feel a pinch through the fabric on his thigh.

The laugh Grace let out was bitter, morphing into a harsh shout. "Come on, Bob! Cora and I might have been the last ones to join whatever fucked up friend group this is, but Nat couldn't give two shits about Maeve! And it's this unspoken thing nobody talks about. Why?!"

"Grace..."

"Don't!" she snapped, stomping her foot, making clumps of dirt fly out in all directions. "I don't care about some fucked up unspoken agreement! I care about Maeve! Don't tell me you don't, Robert?!"

Bob finally lifted his head, though he focused on the way they came, not once meeting his girlfriend's angry stare.

"Bob, so help me... If you say no..."

"You know I do!" he rushed out, shaking his head.

"Then why don't you fucking say something?!" she cried out. "Why doesn't anyone say something?! She's suffering, and nobody does anything!"

She didn't even know she was crying hot, angry tears until she felt one fall off her cheek, a slight cool breeze marking a path on her skin.

"I wanted to. I wanted to, so badly, the first time I noticed it. And you told me not to."

Bob did, and he always wondered if Grace resented him for it.

She sighed, wiping the tears from her face. She paced back and forth a little bit, trying to calm herself down. Because Bob didn't deserve her anger, it was unfair of her to even yell at him in the first place.

Instead, she walked up to the tree, pressing her forehead into the bark, once again trying to count her inhales and exhales.

"When Bradley told me about Nat when he was going to school, I thought she was just a phase. Whenever he called to talk to Dad, I just sat back and wondered. I wondered how long it would take and what the reason behind the break between those two would be."

Grace lifted her head, fixing her eyes on a ladybug climbing the trunk. "You could imagine my surprise when he brought her home for spring break."

She placed her hand on the wood, twisting back to look at her boyfriend. "I never told you this, but I didn't like her the second I met her."

Bob lifted his head to meet her gaze. "Why..?"

"Because she thought I was a threat. That I harboured a crush on Bradley, and I would steal him from her," she shrugged.

Bob's eyes shot up his skull. "... I mean, you two grew up together... did you... ever?"

Grace audibly gagged, adding a few choking noises for a dramatic effect. "He's like my brother, Bob. What the hell?"

He held his hands up in surrender. "I had to ask."

Grace didn't address the remark when she continued, "She treated me horribly that entire week. She sweet-talked my dad and only was nice to me when he was around. Thank God he saw right through her. The second he left, he said that Carole, Bradley's mom, wouldn't have approved. I agreed."

With a narrowed forehead, Bob's mouth gaped open, bobbing like a fish. "Wait... then why did she..."

"Why did she suddenly start inviting me to stuff? It's cause I was dating you. I was no longer a threat. And she acted like she had never done what she did in the first place."

While Bob might have met Grace through work, he was surprised to learn she had grown up with Bradley. How she acted around Bradley, bore no resemblance to a long-lasting, familiar childhood friendship. However, the longer he thought about it, the more it made sense—her closed-off and quiet nature when she was around them.

That the first time they saw each other again, all Bradley could manage was a slight nod.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Grace only offered causally, "You'd be surprised at all the stuff that doesn't require your input. Sometimes you gotta leave people to do the lame shit they do and watch them fuck it up on their own."

A ball formed in her throat. "But Maeve... when I met Maeve and saw what was happening, my heart broke. And she is the only exception to what I just said."

Bob knew what was coming next. Like a coward, he braced himself hard.

"You told me not to say anything when I first brought it up. But now? I can't keep doing it. Not after what she just did to them. Not after that."

"Grace... Don't..."

"Maeve is drowning, Bob! Drowning!" she shouted angrily, startling a nearby bird on a branch. "And I can't stand it any longer. We need to find her, grab her, and take her home. Take her away from all this. From Nat, from those two bitches... God, if they gaslight anything else, they could practically set the whole fucking forest on fire."

"You don't believe in swearing, Grace," he deadpanned.

"Maybe I do now!" she cried. "I feel guilty. Guilty Bob! Cause I bit my lip like a good girl when Nat just what? Uses her? Ignores her? Disregard her feelings? Like hell, why didn't she try harder to figure the fuck out why Jake and Meave are at each other's throats?! Or how those two bully the fuck out of her?"

"Maeve wouldn't tell us about Jake when we asked."

"And you don't find it strange she wouldn't?" she challenged him. "Out of everyone in the group, she didn't tell a soul. Why? Why didn't she? Why wouldn't she?!"

Grace's heart was hurting, and she knew Bob truly knew why. He had been around them longer than she had, so there must have been a reason he told her not to. There had to be.

"At first, I thought it was something everyone accepted, you know? That everyone was trying to figure out what had happened between her and Jake. I thought tensions were high because of that.

She blew out a shaky breath, Bob not once interrupting her.

"Maybe it was a fucking game they were playing with each other until they finally worked up the courage to admit they like each other enough to get into each other's pants. Cause whatever the cause, Maeve wouldn't be so goddamn hurt if she didn't care!"

Bob closed his eyes, a huff of a laugh escaping his mouth.

"But last to join the group, right? You have to be quiet. Read the room. Get a sense of how to act and what you can say. Cause learning to fit in with new people, you have to pick up these things. The best way to get along with everyone else. Like how Maeve runs the second Jake walks into the room? How she avoids conversations about him if she can help it?"

Grace blew a raspberry out of pure frustration. "Jake was never the real issue, though. Everyone just made it out to be. Everyone should have noticed how Maeve bit her tongue as Nat walked over her opinions. How Nat derails conversations, not just where Maeve is concerned, but practically with everyone to make it about her."

Grace laughed, shaking her head. "She got the brunt of all of it, and we just... watched."

Grace finally approached Bob, standing before him, though he didn't lift his head from where it hung low on his shoulders. Had he chosen to look up, he would have noticed how the sun finally peeked through the leaves, beams of light breaking the shade, leaving Grace in their spotlight.

"I meant, she invites us all on this trip so we can watch her get proposed to? And she doesn't bother to tell her that Jake is coming along, too? I mean... how selfish can she get?!"

"Grace, this isn't going to solve..."

"WHAT ELSE CAN I DO?!" she yelled, throwing her hands at the sky. "That ship left the fucking dock ages ago."

Bob's eyes fixed on a leaf stuck under a fallen branch at her words. Grace knew from that reaction alone that she had resonated with something within his kind, caring soul.

"I just... can't... I can't anymore, Bob. If I'm the first to take the leap and break up this group, then good fucking riddance. It needs to be done so we all can get some peace."

She slid to her knees in the dirt in front of him, her hands resting firmly on the sides of his thighs.

"How many years have Nat and Maeve known each other, and not once did Nat realize how hard her supposed best friend had been falling? How could she not recognize that, Bob? And how could she continue to force Jake and Maeve together when Maeve just wanted to escape?"

She reached forward to cup his cheek, guiding his gaze to meet hers. While silent rage resonated within them, Bob knew it wasn't meant for him.

"Why did you tell me to be quiet that first time I brought this up? Why do you still tell me, too?"

Bob gulped, forcing his eyes away. Grace stroked her thumb under his eye, encouraging him on. "I don't know what happened, baby, but I don't think it will be all sunshine and rainbows when we return to the group. Not this time. Just tell me, please."

Bob blew out a shakey breath and shook his head. "Because I wanted you to stay."

"Stay?"

He had contemplated all the reasons, stacking them up brick by brick last night, refusing to acknowledge the leverage Natasha could have used against him. But Bob had damned himself with that one word.

Stay—He wanted Grace to stay. Because if he brought this up, if he told her, there was a chance she wouldn't—at least, there was a possibility.

He lifted his chin, staring into her eyes.

Nat's so-called leverage was kneeling in front of him, begging him to tell her the truth. Her eyes were desperate, so much so that Bob knew he was possibly damned if he did and undoubtedly damned if he did not. Grace had chosen her path, and he would steadfastly follow her wherever she decided to go.

There was no ever questioning that.

Bob reached for her sides, pulling Grace close between his spread legs. She let him, hands landing softly on his biceps before they slid down to his forearms. Bob traded his grip on her jacket to hold her hands, only to trace the same pattern she had a few minutes before.

He braced himself and took several sharp breaths before asking, "Did anyone ever tell you about Natasha's so-called scandal? Back in school?"

Grace cocked an eyebrow. "Only what Maeve's told me. Bradley and I weren't on speaking terms, and he'd never tell Dad if she had one. Though, Maeve didn't even know the complete story."

She let Bob turn her hand over and trace the lines on the palm of her hand. "But she shut me down hard after that. Saying Nat worked to put it behind her and move on, so we all should, too."

Bob scoffed. "Always protecting her."

"Bob?"

Bob hesitated, his gaze flickering away from Grace's expectant eyes. He swallowed hard, the reluctance clear in his tight jaw. Then he closed his eyes, leaning over to whisper in her ear, his voice cautious but a whisper.

Grace's eyes widened, and a gasp slipped through her parted lips at his words. She could hardly breathe as he told her the story. And when he was finished, she tilted so far back on her heels in shock that she almost fell onto her butt.

"Bob! What the hell? After everything I just told you?!"

Bob still hadn't opened his eyes, his head hung low in shame.

"I would have never left you over that! Over complete and utter bullshit? Who do you think I'd believe more? Her or my boyfriend?"

"I didn't know. I didn't want to risk losing you."

"You listen here, Bob Floyd," Grace urged, grabbing his face with both hands and forcing him to look at her. "I'm in a relationship with you. I love you. I would have never believed her if she had done that to us."

He kissed the inside of Grace's wrist, a deep weight lifting off his chest.

"God, I want to throttle her."

"I think that's why everyone doesn't call her out. Cause they don't want it to happen to them. Or at least, deep down, I never did 'cause I didn't want Maeve or Bradley to be alone with..."

Grace nodded, letting Bob know he did not need to continue explaining.

"We should try to find her, Bob. Let her know we love her and that we'd follow her. I have no idea if anyone else would besides Mickey and Cora. Hell, I'd even offer to leave with her and get drunk on her Aunt's apple cider 'cause this whole damn trip was a bad idea."

Bob huffed a sad laugh. "It is apple picking season. I bet she'd love it if we went with her."

Grace snorted. "You just want free apples so I can make my apple crisp."

With the tension from before gone and the weight of Bob's chest finally disappearing with his confession, he joked comedically, "Ssshh, don't jinx it."

Grace rolled her eyes, letting the moment pass before offering quietly, "Where do you think she is? Maeve?"

Bob regarded her for a moment before letting out a long sigh. "Considering the lack of voices, Maeve's probably tried to separate herself. Or she made a rash decision and decided to leave alone."

Grace gasped. "What about Jake?"

"Jake ... I bet 50 bucks Jake ran after her regardless."

Her face contorted into one of disgust. "What? Why? Can he not leave her alone for once in his life?"

Bob stood, wiping his hands on his jeans, before extending a hand to Grace. She took it without another word and allowed him to guide her up and off the tree. He revealed yet another truth as he helped her step over the massive root.

"Remember when I went with Bradley and Jake before Maeve hurt her wrist? Jake wanted to show us a fishing spot...?"

Grace winced. When Bob told her what happened, she instantly regretted not being out there with you. Hold up in her tent, she had been working on plans for a museum exhibit. Even if she had to do a little work, she could have at least done it in the company of a friend.

"I found out Bradley's been trying to coach Jake into mending things with Maeve. We might have been giving him some... advice."

Grace froze with her two feet atop the curved piece of wood.

"What!!?" she shrieked, making Bob wince. "Please tell me you weren't the one who encouraged him to keep up the prank thing. Bob, if you told him to scream 'there's a Bear..'."

"It wasn't me! Nor was it Bradley! We just told him to try to talk to her without anyone around. Cause things seem to go to shit when everyone else is there. He just needed to incite her to stay. Make her laugh. Talk to her like a human being!"

"Men," she scoffed, jumping down off the root. "Never go to a group of idiots to do a woman's job."

Bob froze, eyeing her carefully. "Are you calling me an idiot?"

Grace smiled, reaching up to stroke across his cheek. She kissed his lips with a quick peck and leaned back. "Hmm... my idiot, though."

She took several steps back towards the falls when she called out over her shoulder to a befuddled Bob. "You realize if we locked them in a room or trapped them in an elevator, with nobody else around, they'd probably figure it out?"

"How so?" he called back, finally following her.

"Jake obviously wants to fix it. Maeve runs. All you need to do is stop her from running. She'll give in if you provoke her enough, which Jake already does."

Bob paused, reflecting for a moment. "He doesn't think when it comes to her, does he?"

"Does she?"

When they emerged from the bush, Bob and Grace ran to the first person they saw, hoping at least someone saw either you or Jake. Nobody had. Not until a few minutes later did a couple mention seeing someone bearing your resemblance climbing the waterfall. They also mentioned seeing someone who looked like Nat go up, but she had already come back down.

Grace stared at them in horror. "I'll go get Mickey and Cora," she rushed out quickly, leaving Bob alone to start the trek up the rocky slope. As he did, a million thoughts crossed his mind.

Finding you and Jake tearing each other apart, hoping Mickey and Cora's skills weren't needed. Or the more stupidly optimistic thought - either of you was trying to find a few moments of peace.

As if.

Or perhaps it was none of those things. Maybe what awaited him above was something far worse than he could ever fathom.

But when he reached the top of the falls, neither you nor Jake were there, and Bob didn't spare the effort to take in the view. Instead, he searched the ground, kneeling when he spied several tracks in the mud.

Two sets, both inherently female, were marked along the river bank in the mud. Bob's eyes followed them until he saw a separate path of them walking back. Then he noticed another pair of tracks, the boot tread clearly belonging to a man. They followed one of the other tracks, veering quickly off into the bushes. They were noticeably disturbed, leaves and branches bent unnaturally, and the longer he followed the underbrush and mud, the more he understood what happened to the two of you.

Bob set off, knowing just exactly where he needed to go.

Can I just say I love Bob and Grace?

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secretswiftymarvelfan · 2 years

Text

The Perfect Wingman - Chris Evans x Reader

Summary: After meeting the new vet, Dodger starts acting up

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Fluff! Vet environment! Mention of Injections! Minor Injury to Pet! Uniform kink?

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Whenever Chris had to take Dodger to the vets he always made sure to go at awkward times that no one else went. The last thing he wanted was to be recognised, especially if Dodger was sick.

Today though it was just a general check-up and Dodger's annual jabs. The waiting room was quiet since it was now very late in the day. Dodger sat patiently waiting, his tail slowly wagging as Chris sat scrolling on his phone. Chris trying not to huff in annoyance as he still tried to get used to his new phone, wanting nothing more than to head home and get some rest after a tiring day of meetings.

“Dodger Evans?” A female voice called out.

Chris’ head snapped up since he was expecting his usual vet, one that was very much male. He blinked a couple of times as he came to his senses and stood up, wiping his hands on his jeans.

“Hi that’s me- I mean us- Dodger that’s Dodger,” Chris says stumbling over his words before pointing down at Dodger who was giving him a quizzical look.

You chuckle gently “well it’s lovely to meet you, I’m Dr Y/L/N, but please call me Y/N” you smile instantly putting Chris at ease, turning away to lead them to the examination room.

“Chris” he replied “I’m Chris” he clarified when you looked back at him slightly confused.

“Nice to meet you, now c’mon and let's get you checked out hey pal” you smile down to dodger before leading them into the examination room.

“Hey um I don’t mean to sound rude or anything but what happened to Dr Stevenson?” Chris asked as he shut the door behind him.

“He’s had to take some time off for a family emergency so I’ve taken over some of his clients, and since I’m new to the practice I’ve been given the graveyard shifts” you explain as you grab your stethoscope from the side.

“Ah nice, I mean not nice for you and for Dr Stevenson” Chris rambles scratching the back of his neck nervously.

You flashed him another smile that made him instantly relax and get more nervous at the same time. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so flustered around someone, usually he was pretty good at this but you were so different.

He could tell you were tired like he was but you still had the brightest smile on your face. Despite wearing absolutely no makeup and your ponytail being a little messy you still looked absolutely stunning in your pale green scrubs, a fact Chris would have to re-evaluate later once he was alone. The thing that amazes him the most though was the warmth you gave off, it made him feel like he was being enveloped in the biggest hug ever even though you were standing on the opposite side of the room.

“Right then pal shall we make sure everything is looking good?” You smile bending down to be at eye level with Dodger.

Dodger instantly started wiggling, trying to lick your face which just made you laugh “oh yes thank you, oh yes you’re very kind, can you sit for me? Sit?” You tell him, Dodger obeying without Chris needing to do anything.

Dodger sat patiently, his tail wagging as you checked the condition of his teeth, gums, eyes and ears.

“You’re such a good boy aren’t you? Now stay nice and still for me” you smile grabbing the stethoscope from your neck and listening to his lungs and heart.

“Yes you’re such a good boy” you smile scratching Dodger behind the ears before standing back up “how is he with injections?” You ask looking over at Chris.

“Oh um yeah usually pretty good,” Chris says nodding his head.

“Okay cool, well just to be safe do you want to just sit in front of him and give him some fussing since I’m a stranger that’s about to stab him with a needle” you joke making Chris laugh.

“Yeah sure not a problem” Chris smiles.

He crouches down in front of Dodger, stroking his head and reassuring him while you got the injections ready. Once you crouched down beside Chris, just out of Dodger’s eye-line, Chris’ heart skipped a beat when he realised how close you were to him. As you worked Chris watched you, noticing the small furrow of your brows as you concentrated and the light spattering of freckles across your cheeks and nose.

“You’re such a brave boy, well done!” You smile as you praise Dodger “I think you deserve a treat!” You add as you grab a chicken bite from the jar.

Dodger sits patiently as he waits for his treat, something that makes you laugh gently and Chris decides that your laugh was his favourite sound.

“So is everything all good?” Chris asks.

“Yep you have a very healthy and extremely happy dog” you smile nodding your head.

Silence falls in the room for a moment as you and Chris just look at each other. Chris trying to decide whether it would be appropriate to ask you out, he couldn’t see a ring but that didn’t mean you were single, and you might not even be interested. Just as he worked up the nerve the moment was ruined when Dodger let out a loud bark.

“Great, well um thank you for everything,” Chris says clearing his throat.

“I’m just doing my job, have a lovely evening” you smile.

“I will, you too” Chris smiles nodding his head “c’mon then bubba,” he says pulling a somewhat reluctant Dodger outside.

It was a couple of weeks later and Chris was sitting on the couch reading a new script he’d been sent. Dodger was nearby keeping himself entertained by throwing his toys around, chasing and diving onto them.

Chris smiled to himself as he watched Dodger play before turning his attention back to the script. He’d only read a couple more lines when he heard a crashing sound and Dodger yelping loudly.

Chris shot up from the couch and ran over to where Dodger was, finding him standing next to one of the side tables, his left paw raised. Chris crouched down beside Dodger, picking up the picture frame that had fallen, before checking out his paw. Chris couldn’t see anything obviously wrong with it but whenever he touched it, even gently, Dodger would whimper and whine.

“Okay pal let's get you to the vets,” Chris says opting to pick Dodger up and carry him to the car.

On the drive over Chris called the vets to let them know what had happened and that they were coming in. Once they arrived Chris carried Dodger straight into the examination room where you were waiting.

“I’ve heard we had an injured paw,” you say a look of concern on your face as you crouch down next to Dodger who was lying on the floor.

“Can you tell me what happened?” You ask glancing up at Chris.

“I dunno exactly, he was playing just out of my line of sight, I heard a crashing noise and him yelping and when I looked he wouldn’t put any weight on his front left paw” Chris sighs “I think he dived after a toy and crashed into the side table”

You hum nodding your head as you gently examine Dodger’s paw, Dodger whining and whimpering.

“He’s had a double hip replacement already because he has BB gun pellets in his hips, do you think that could be causing this? Pellets in his wrist?” Chris asks rubbing his chin.

“Potentially, but I think there’d be an obvious sign that there was a pellet since there isn’t much muscle there, and I’d be surprised if we missed it before,” you say thinking out loud “but we’ll get him an x-ray just to check and it’ll clear up whether this is a break or a muscular issue,” you say standing back up.

“That’s great thank you, do whatever you need to,” Chris says nodding his head.

It was an anxious wait for the x-ray to be done and the results to be checked. When you walked back into the room holding the x-rays Chris instantly spotted the concerned look on your face.

“Is it a break?” Chris asks nervously.

“No,” you say shaking your head “his x-ray came back completely fine, no break and I can’t even see anything that would indicate a muscular injury either, it looks perfectly fine” you explain, frowning slightly when you looked down at Dodger who was lying down a smile on his face as he wagged his tail slowly.

“So what do you think the problem is?” Chris asks confused.

“I have a theory but I need your permission to test it,” you say looking over at him.

“Yeah of course anything,” Chris says nodding his head.

“Okay cool,” you say grabbing a treat from the jar and walking to the opposite side of the room to Dodger, as far away as you could.

You crouched down and started calling for Dodger, holding out the treat as an incentive. Dodger pushed himself up and started limping over to you, his right paw raised in the air. Once he reached you, you gave him his treat a smile on your face.

“Good boy” you smile scratching him behind the ear “he’s fine his paw isn’t even injured,” you say standing back up.

Chris looks back at you confused “what? but he was just limping” he points out.

“You said it was his left paw he injured right?” You ask.

“Yeah” Chris confirms.

“Well he’s now acting like it’s his right” you explain “he’s been faking it”

“What? Why would he even do that?” Chris asks confused looking down at Dodger who was happily smiling up at him.

“Most dogs do it for attention, however, they stop as soon as the vet is mentioned, I’m surprised he carried it on right up til now” you explain shrugging your shoulders.

Chris shakes his head in disbelief as he tries to work out what Dodger's motives could possibly be. Why would Dodger want to come to the vets, he’s never had a problem with them but it was surprising that he did act injured so he’d go to the vets.

“Well I’m just as lost as you, I’m so sorry if we wasted your time” Chris sighs shaking his head.

“No not at all, it’s better to be safe than sorry but I assure you he’ll be fine, you probably just want some cuddles don’t you” You smile bending down to fuss Dodger who instantly sprang to live, confirming the fact that he wasn’t injured at all.

“I’m still really sorry, is there any way I could make it up to you? A donation or something?” Chris offers.

You smile up at him “how about a cup of coffee instead?” You suggest.

“Coffee?” Chris asks surprised, were you asking him out?

“Yeah or something stronger if you prefer, movie, I’m easy,” you say with a playful smirk.

You were definitely asking him out, Chris starting to work out Dodger’s motives “yeah sure um let me get your number and I’ll call you to set something up” Chris smiles nodding his head.

“Great and don’t worry about the bill today, it’s on us,” you tell him.

“No, c’mon I have to pay something” Chris states shaking his head.

“You can just pay for the drinks” you smirk making him laugh.

“Okay I can deal with that, thank you again and I’ll see you soon” Chris smiles

“I’ll see you soon, stay out of trouble Dodger,” you say scratching his head.

Chris gave you one last goodbye before taking Dodger who was now completely fine back to the car.

“Well bud, your methods were questionable but thanks pal, you’re the perfect wingman” Chris smiles.

SHARING IS CARING SO REBLOG IF YOU ENJOYED IT!

Masterlist

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#NiamhWrites #Chris Evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans x y/n #Chris evans x you #chris x reader #chris x y/n #chris x you #dodger evans

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storiesbyrhi · 1 year

Text

Witch!Reader x Bat/Vampire!Eddie Munson Series Masterlist The Grimoire The Timeline

Warnings: canon typical violence, horror genre typical violence, swearing, animal death, no beta, warnings updated each chapter.

Synopsis: No witch has stepped foot in Hawkins since 1845, but when Vecna opens the ground and poisons the town, a voice begins to call to you. Have you been brought back to this cursed place to heal the townspeople’s wounds, to save a hexed bat that always finds its way to you, or to redefine your history with a reunion 150 years in the making?

Chapter Summary: An ye harm none, do what ye will. 3371 words.

Author's Note: In 1986, we pick up where we left off.

1836

“I know you’re there,” you stated, not stopping from where you were cleansing crystals by moonlight.

The stream ran clear, the surface of the water a mirror. His arrival was reflected and further announced by the wildlife’s silence. He emerged from the darkness, cautious but sure he had the upper hand. He thought you would move so your back wasn’t to him. Yet, you remained on your knees by the stream.

If he was completely honest, your lack of fear was refreshing.

“Did you keep me a secret, little witch?” he asked. “Or is there a grand plan I am falling victim to?”

Instead of answering his question, you said, “My name is Amabel.” You looked over your shoulder at him. “Using my name won’t trap you,”

“Maybe not. Why should I use a name that you’ll throw away?”

“Why do you care if I throw it away?”

His blank expression broke as a smirk curled along his lips. He walked towards you with the grace of a cat, quickly coming to sit beside you on the stream’s bank.

“Why haven’t you told them?” he questioned.

Even if you had wanted to, you couldn’t answer the question. There was no logical reason why you hadn’t told the coven about him. In fact, you were breaking witch law by not disclosing. More than that, you were putting the lives of all who lived on the flatlands at risk.

“What are you doing here?” you deflected.

“Are we to leave all questions unanswered?” He sounded amused.

For a moment, you focused on your task. He watched as you cleansed quartz, howlite, opal, and topaz. Your lips moved quickly, silently, as you uttered words he couldn’t understand. He’d never been so close to a witch. He wondered if he or you were older. Who would win if a battle broke out?

When your crystals were gently placed in a basket, cloth covering them, you looked back to him. “Do you have a name?”

“I have many,”

“And which, lonely vampire, shall I call you by?”

He thought of what his name would sound like, falling from your lips like a hymn. The vampire was afraid of what that would do to him. “Enjoy your rocks,” he teased, while committing the sight of you bathed in moonlight to memory.

You watched him turn and walk away for as long as he’d let you, before he blinked out of sight.

…

1986

Witches have never traversed the sky upon the humble broom. Likewise, vampires have never possessed the ability to transform into a bat. It was all fictitious superstition and generational mythology. If the man you were helping was indeed a vampire, it still didn’t mean he was meant to take the bat form. It did, however, begin to explain how the form came to be.

Kelsey had been right. A hex had been passed down on him. If he was a vampire, it reasoned he was cursed before the species had been erased from the face of the earth… Before the witches had figured out how to kill a vampire. Prior to that, a vampire could be rendered innocuous by being transformed into something benign. A common big brown bat, for example.

You were left with two choices.

Option one was to wait until the vampire reverted back to the bat, then leave him that way. Trust in the witch who cast the hex. Trust that witch law had been just and righteous.

Option two was to kill the thing. You knew he would find his way back to you, seeking help again. While he was small, just a forest-dwelling creature, you could kill him the way you used to kill vampires. Be done with it all.

Sitting on the couch inside your trailer, you began to smell the end goal of Michelle’s animal corpse hunt. She set the pile on fire, plunging Forest Hills into a cloud of death. The smell was too familiar, and you quickly started taping up windows and doors to try to block the smoke out.

While you worked, a third option kept tiptoeing into your head, coming from shadows behind memories. Option three was to help the vampire return and remain in his true form.

Out of your thoughts, nothing was keeping the smell of burning animals from your home.

The perfume of death and ash. The sound of organs and body parts expanding in the heat then popping. The sight of skin melting away from muscle, and muscle cooking onto bone. It was tumbling out of recollections you’d long since buried.

You crawled under the covers of your bed, curled up, and rocked yourself in an attempt to self-soothe. The scent. The panic.

Your life, a witch’s life, was not all rosemary and sage and love spells. You’d witnessed worse than the stories of the Four Horsemen. Worse than Dante’s Inferno and manmade chemical genocide. Worse than Vecna.

The bat was the most calming thing you could think about in the moment. How when he was a bat, he was actually cute, with his fluffy little puff of a body and teeny tiny nose. When he wasn’t a bat, he was beautiful too. Although, you figured it was bad luck to think of a vampire as beautiful. You couldn’t help it.

He was ethereal, porcelain skin a perfect canvas for his ink black eyes and the scars that ripped across his skin. The scars meant he’d been to battle against witches at least once in his life. Vampires could heal from anything but the craft. His hair was the same colour as his bat fur, a deep shade of brown, like sweet soil from the earth or Aztec cocoa beans.

Did he know he was a vampire, you wondered. He’d been satisfying his innate need for blood by draining trailer park animals, but he hadn’t drunk from a human. Not yet, at least. Maybe he was a psychological blank slate. Maybe it would be kind and merciful to give him a chance at redemption.

The smell eased as you made a decision.

Option three was not a silly little dare your mind was whispering to you. It was the only way forward that honoured your oath. Eight words the Wiccan Rede fulfill: An ye harm none, do what ye will.

Until you’d proven the vampire to be deserving of hex or death, you would aim for healing, the craft in which you were most adept.

…

When you emerged from under the covers, all that was left in the air was a lingering aroma of ash and barbeque. You felt a little nauseous but pulled yourself together enough to pick up the phone.

“How do you undo a curse?”

Kelsey barked one loud clap of laughter. “So, your spell sucked?”

“Ah…” The man and his dark eyes. Spilled water. The burrow under your trailer. “Yeah, it didn’t work… But I used a truth mirror, saw that he’s in there,”

“He? The bat is for sure a man?”

“Yeah.” It didn’t feel good to lie to Kelsey, but if she knew he was a vampire, if anyone did, being exiled as punishment would be considered clemency.

“Dude… You’re in so deep. You see that, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“If your healing spell even kind of worked, then it means it was definitely a witch who cursed him. This isn’t Romani craft, or a rogue warlock, or fae mischief. It’s your magic. Your lineage. The oath you took. And you want to undo it,”

“What if it was a dark witch,” you tried. The silence on the other end was telling. “It’s not like there hasn’t ever been a witch who-”

“I know. We all know about the dark witches. They’re infamous though. Your little bat friend would probably be in the history books too, you know?”

“I’m being careful, Kels,”

“What, you drew one devil’s trap?”

Damn. “Uh, no. I have-”

“A circle of salt? Some little charms?”

“Why are you being so mean?” you whined.

“Because I don’t want you to unchain the fucking Anti-Christ or some shit,”

“Wouldn’t that be in the history books?”

“Not if anyone had half a brain… Seriously. You need to be more careful than that,”

“I am. I will be careful. I promise… Please? Kels?”

Kelsey groaned dramatically, the sound morphing into a small roar. “Fine! Fuck. But I changed my mind about coming to Hawkins. I don’t think I can handle-”

“No, that’s fine! Totally fine!” You’d forgotten that she’d offered a visit last phone call. You absolutely did not need her to see what you were up to. A second witch in Hawkins would likely cause more of a stir, bringing unwanted attention as well. “Just tell me what you know.”

…

As anticipated, the bat returned to you. When you let him in, he swooped the length of the trailer then came to hover in front of you.

“Hi,” you whispered to him. Holding a hand up, you invited him to land. He did, nuzzling into your palm. “Do you know what you are, when you’re like this? Or do you lose that sense? You just remember this safe place, with me?”

The bat chittered a reply, making you smile.

“You’re adorable, you know that?”

For what the bat knew, you could help. The awareness he’d woken up to was not freeing. There was no liberation. Instead, it was a cold and bitter loneliness. And while briefly finding his true form was an even more excruciating experience, he yearned for it.

You took the bat to the kitchen, letting him climb from your hand onto the counter top. Sitting at the bench on a bar stool, you looked at him carefully.

“Are you listened to me? Do you understand me?” There was no objective way of knowing, so you had to trust that he could. “I’m going to try to help you. But we need to talk first, so we’re going to do the healing spell one last time, okay?” You weren’t sure why you paused for an answer. “You can’t run. I don’t know if you’re consciously connected to the other guy, but if you are, you have to stay with me.”

The third showing of the burning yarrow spell ran smoothly.

“So shall it be.

So shall it be.

So shall it be.”

He appeared in the devil’s trap, then looked up at you. More prepared than previously, you offered a throw blanket to him. The man took it and laid it over himself, not moving off the ground. Holding your hands out in front of you in surrender, you slowly lowered yourself to the floor and sat cross-legged in front of him.

“Do you understand me?” you asked, voice a whisper.

The man nodded awkwardly, as if it were the first time he’d ever tried the action.

You smiled, your entire face lighting up. The man blinked hard, feeling something inside him stir.

“I promise, you’re safe here. If you run now, we have to do this all again, and I’m fresh out of hawthorn.”

Maybe you should have planned for what you’d say to him, because it took a couple of beats of silence and staring at each other for you to speak again.

“Do you know where you are?”

He shook his head. No.

“Do you know who you are?”

No.

“Do you know what you are?”

No.

“Can you speak?”

He opened his mouth, tried to push a word out. His throat was dry, scratchy.

“Okay… Maybe you need… food…” You theorised the stronger he was, the easier speech and thought would come to him. The risk of offering yourself up as a snack was far too great. The idea of catching an animal to condemn to death hurt you to your core. What was the alternative?

You sighed, looking away from the man. The vampire.

You couldn’t condemn a life to death, but there were plenty already doomed fates in Hawkins. Standing up, you grabbed your bag.

“Wait here. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

He listened to you lock the trailer’s front door and get into your car. The tires crunched over the gravel before smoothing out onto the main road.

He stayed on the floor for as long as his patience would allow, before finding his feet. He began to look at all the things in your trailer. You hadn’t occupied it long enough to have it filled with knick-knacks and trinkets, but there was enough evidence of you for him to consider.

In the bathroom, he picked up bottles and your hair brush to smell. Everything was so foreign to him. He knew he was alien to a time and place like this.

Your scent was strongest in the bedroom. He followed it into the space, crawling along your sheets until he hit pillow. The softness felt wrong. It made his skin prickle. Still, he curled up on the bed, resolute to remain there until you returned to him.

…

1836

It was the vampire that spoke first the third time you crossed paths. “You have ventured quite far from the settlement, little witch,” he observed, jumping from a tree bough to fall in line next to you.

“And you have ventured quite early in the evening. I can still see the burn of the sun on the horizon. Is it not too warm for you?” you queried.

He smiled. “Your concern is heartening, but I’m in fine health.”

You looked at him, lost yourself in his gaze for a moment before tearing your eyes away and back to the path you were cutting through the woods to the grassy prairie beyond.

He followed you, weaving his own track around you as he disappeared behind trees and brush, only to return with flowers and berries. You took them without question, collecting them in the basket meant for the task at hand, which certainly wasn’t collecting vampire gifts.

When the clearing opened up, you spotted what you’d come for immediately. The green milkweed was growing in abundance. Happily, you began to harvest seed pods from them.

The vampire silently appeared; the long grass entirely mute of his arrival. “What does a witch do with this?” he asked as he inspected the plant for himself.

“Guess,” you challenged.

“Hmmm… Do you grind it up and blow it at a full moon to cure lovesickness? Or can you brew it down to an oil, douse a doll, and curse a soul?”

You laughed, hearty and loud. The vampire smiled from ear to ear.

“No. There is silk on the inside of these,” you told him, holding up one of the seed pods. “It is fine but strong, if you know how to weave it. The humans cannot, but… the craft can,”

“What do you do with the silk?”

“Now that’s a secret,” you whispered, ducking your head and looking at him conspiratorially.

The vampire smirked and nodded, then walked away from you. He stayed in the field and watched you work. When a mother doe and her fawn wandered close, he saw how you steered them away from the milkweed, offering them grass and some of the flowers he had given you.

He’d been still, leaning against a rocky outcrop. If he moved, the deer would sense him and bolt immediately. A few more minutes with the creatures you innately loved, then. You let them feed from your hand and the intimacy of the gesture unsettled the vampire. To stave off the jealousy, he stood tall, letting the deer run in fear. You shot him a look.

“You gave them my flowers,” he offered in explanation.

“Did you not give them to me unconditionally?”

“Unconditionally?” he repeated.

It made you sad, the expression on his face. “I suppose there is not a great deal of unconditional good in your world, is there?”

He squirmed at the insight, stalking away into the afternoon’s growing shadows. “Safe travels home, little witch. Beware. These woods are filled with monsters.”

…

1986

Magic wasn’t meant to be used for mischief or strife or trickery. Sometimes, though, trickery was the best way to avoid chaos. Hawkins Kennels were doing their best to look after stray dogs injured in the ‘earthquakes,’ and to home animals that had lost their owners. Their best was not enough; nobody noticed an old ridgeback go missing.

The dog was sedated, scheduled for humane euthanasia the next morning. He’d been found under earthquake rubble, and deemed too old to go through surgery and rehabilitation. It was the most ethical solution you could think of.

The ridgeback stayed unconscious during the drive back to Forest Hills. You carried his deadweight into the trailer under the cloak of darkness.

When you put the dog on the couch and covered him with a blanket, guilt stabbed through you like a knife. Your nose burned and tears formed. It was against your nature to bring an animal to slaughter.

Standing up, you glanced around, fearful the man had once again left. You felt him though. He was close by. Walking through to your bedroom, you softened at the sight of him curled up.

Still naked, his eyes were wide open, unblinking. Upon first look, it would be easy to say his stare was emotionless. As you watched him though, you realised the blackness was not one void of emotion, but rather the sum of all of them, of all the colours on the spectrum.

“Hey,” you greeted softly, crouching down next to the bed. “Are you… okay?”

His gaze flicked to you in a second, his eyebrows knitting together. You didn’t know what that meant, so you slid your hand across the sheets and held it out to him. He looked at your palm, made some sort of calculation, and looked back at you. Withdrawing your hand, you stood up.

“Come with me?”

Following you out to the lounge room, he stood next to you looking at the dying dog and listening to his laboured breathing.

“I… I don’t know if I should be doing this.”

The vampire listened intently but didn’t take his eyes off the dog.

“There’s this thing inside me telling me that I’m… I don’t know, heading in the right direction? But this feels wrong. And I don’t know if the ends justify the means.”

You looked at the thing beside you. Man. Vampire. Something in between. To be saved. To be saved from. Hunted. Hunter.

“You have to promise me that you won’t hurt him. It can’t be…” Years and years of vampire carnage flashed in your mind. “It needs to be peaceful. If it’s not, I will let you turn back into the bat and I will hex you myself. Do you understand?”

He nodded, his curls bouncing with the movement. His expression was neutral as he walked across the room and knelt in front of the couch.

For a moment, you felt the flicker of panic, but you remained glued to the spot. Censorship was a kindness you’d not allow yourself. You would bare witness to what you had done.

The man ran a hand down the dog’s back before pulling him off the couch and into his lap. It wasn’t tender, but nor was it careless. He nuzzled his head into the dog, then opened his mouth wide. His off-white teeth were deadly sharp, and when they pierced the dog’s jugular, you expected some sort of reaction. The dog did not stir as his blood was drained from him.

Had vampires possessed the ability to bring death serenely all along? Had you only met those hellbent on fear and pain?

It was over unnaturally quick. The man returned the dog to the couch, wrapped the body in the throw blanket, then stood. He looked over at you, his cheeks tinged with the slightest colour and his lips stained red. There had not been a single drop of blood wasted.

As you were about to collect the body, find a final resting place for the dog, the vampire took a step towards you. You froze.

His lips parted. “Thank you,” he said, voice deep and unwavering.

End Note: The timeline and Grimoire have been updated. As always, I would love to hear your thoughts and feelings!

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#Mine #Burning Yarrow #Eddie Munson #Vampire!Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson x Reader #Eddie Munson/Reader #Witch!Reader

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villainousshakespeare · 7 months

Text

Therapy Fit for a God

Chapter 31

Loki/OFC Rated E: Trigger Warnings (for previous chapters): Smut, Sex, Oral Sex, Angst, talk of suicide, therapy, unhealthy family dynamics, mention of torture and mind control, touch starved, drinking, memory loss.

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

Loki’s plans to conquer and rule Midgard have come to a disastrous end. After being captured by the Avengers, he is being held on Earth. Odin has refused to interfere, and the outlook for the God of Mischief appear bleak. His only hope may lie in one mortal woman, a Psychiatric expert brought in to interrogate him.

Dr. Caroline Thorpe is intrigued by Loki and thinks that more lies beneath his actions than is commonly known. Can she find out the truth before he is shipped off to die for crimes against the Earth? And can Loki bring himself to care?

@yespolkadotkitty@just-the-hiddles@hopelessromanticspoonie@wine-and-whines@arch-venus25@caffiend-queen@devilish–doll@enchantedbyhiddles@hiddlesholic@i-do-not-fangirl-i-fanwoman@kellatron55@ladyoftheteaandblood@latent-thoughts@yespolkadotkitty @myoxisbroken@nuggsmum@nildespirandum@pedeka@redfoxwritesstuff@sinfully-lustful-darling@vodka-and-some-sass@wrathkitty@kingtwhiddleston@wolfsmom1@poetic-fiasco@shiningloki@dangertoozmanykids101@bookworm-christina@amwolowicz@delightfulheartdream@frostbitten-written@what-a-flammable-heart@tom-hlover@nonsensicalobsessions@myraiswack@loki-yoursaviourishere@ghostypau@ms-cellanies @colorfulfreakstudentpizza@mareebird@colorfulfreakstudentpizza @szycha22@chokemedaddyloki@queenofallhobos@just-the-hiddles-reads @alwida10 @justjoanne242 @lovelysizzlingbluebird@lokiprompts@evieplease @bitchassbecky691@georges-left-ear@mischief2sarawr@thedistractedagglomeration

It's back!!! Well, if this isn't the definition of taking too long, I don't know what is. My sincere apologies. It was a long summer. Finally though, I have scratched out some time away with just my hubs and my keyboard, and now that he is in bed I space to write!

It was a relief to Loki that the room he paced back and forth, wearing a proverbial hole in the carpet, was familiar to him. He reminded himself of that fact regularly, in an effort to stave off the worst of the anxiety coursing through him as he waited for his Lady's arrival. No matter what the future held for him from this point forth, at least he knew himself and all that belonged to him, this room included.

Also included, he hoped, was the woman due to arrive at any moment.

It had been a boisterous reunion with when he had finally joined his family where they waited for him to emerge from his procedure. Any event involving Thor was bound to be less than serene, but the nature of his discovery made the atmosphere raucous even by the standards of the Asgardian royal family.

"Brother! I mean Cousin!" Thor had proclaimed, lifting him from his feet in an embrace that had gone near to shattering Loki's rib cage. "Norns take it all, Brother it has always been, and Brother it shall always be!"

"Thank you, Thor," he had wheezed out with the little air left in his lungs.

"I always knew that you and I shared blood. It was as obvious as it is that day turns to night and night to day."

"Yes, our similarities are breathtaking," Loki had replied dryly, doing his best to hide the misty eyed sensation sweeping over him at his brother's declaration. "I am only surprised that the people did not take us for twins."

"Loki, my dear one," Frigga had cut short his sarcasm before Thor had an opportunity to read it and be stung. "Can you ever forgive us for what we have put you through?"

"I have forgave and been forgiven for far worse in my time," Loki had shrugged, accepting a kiss from her on his cheek. "And as it turns out, I was not the only one deceived in this."

"You were not," she had agreed, a spark of anger in her eye that he was grateful was not directed at him.

"So tell me, where is my dearest not-father? I would have thought he would be first to greet me, all eagerness to explain why he was right to keep the true details of my birth from all of us."

"Mother sent him away," Thor's voice had held a note of awe that Loki was completely in agreement with. To his knowledge no one had ever imposed their will upon the great All Father of the Nine Realms.

"Did you?" was all he said aloud as his mind reeled.

"We all needed time to process the truth," Frigga had a voice of vibranium that would have cut through the strongest armor. "It will go easier if we do not have to do so while your father... while Odin spins his version of events. He will be back in time, when we have all had time to consider."

"What have I told you, Thor," Loki had smirked at his brother. "In a battle to the death, I would choose our Mother every time. If, that is, I may still call you mother?"

The hesitation he had felt rocked him tot he very core. Always, Frigga had been the guiding light in his life. Her love may have been flawed, conditional to Odin's laws, but he had always believed in it. Even when he had learned that he was not her son by birth, there had been no other woman to put in her place. Now, now that he had a name and a face to put to the woman who had birthed him, could he still consider Frigga his Mother? Would she want him to?

"Volla may have given you birth," Frigga had said, tears standing in her eyes, "but in all ways that matter, you are my son, Loki. I have always loved you. Knowing that you are the blood of my blood only strengthens that love."

It seemed that there were times when the tears would not be stifled. He had embraced her again, allowing the salt water to flow from his eyes onto her shoulder as he held her to him. It was only as Thor joined them, wrapping them both in his beefy embrace, that he had heard the door to the chamber open and shut and known that Caroline had slipped silently out.

He had wanted to go after her immediately, but an unaccustomed shyness had descended on him. He owed her so much, this tiny but fierce woman of Midgard. Not only was she responsible for this latest revelation of his origin story, but it was due to her that was alive to learn it. Now that he could remember all of the support she had given him over the past weeks, he found himself feeling profoundly unworthy of so steadfast a woman. He needed something to show her that he knew just how lucky he was to have her in his life and in his corner.

"Mother," he had asked, enjoying the sensation of saying it once more without the sarcasm. "I have a favor to ask of you."

"Name it, my son. If it is in my power, it is yours."

"Now that is a dangerous statement if ever I heard it," Thor had said with a rumble of laughter, as Loki began to lay out what he wished for.

His mother, as always, had been as good as her word. Loki paused his pacing now to once more needlessly take inventory of his pocket universe, making sure the precious item was safely locked away for the right moment.

A light tap on the door brought him swinging around to stare at it for a moment. An unaccustomed wave of uncertainty threaded down his spine, causing his heart to beat an irregular tattoo. He wanted so much for the next series of minutes to go as he hoped. It had been longer than he could remember, now that he had memories to recall, since he had wanted anything so much.

"Loki, are you in there?" the clear, musical voice called. "Your mother said you wanted to see me."

He realized suddenly that he had stayed rooted to the spot and moved in a dash to cross the room and open the door. He smiled as he saw the small woman standing there, green dress bringing out the color of her eyes and the roses in her lips.

"My darling Caroline," he breathed, calming as his eyes met hers. "To call you lovely would be a drastic understatement. Won't you come in?"

"Of course," she smiled at him. "How are you feeling? You did have quite a morning."

"And you," he replied, ushering her into his space, "have had quite a month. Give or take."

"Fair," she acknowledged with a laugh. "We have both been through quite the wringer lately."

Loki watched her mouth as the corners tilted up and yearned to kiss it. Everything in him was telling him to gather her into his arms and not let her go until she was breathless from his embrace. But he had a question to put to her, and he wanted them both to be clear headed when he did.

"Loki, what is wrong?" she asked him, peering up at him through troubled eyes. "You do remember me, don't you?"

"I remember everything," he said, caress seeping into the words. "I remember your bravery, your strength of will, the way you put your career, your very life on the line to help me, a veritable stranger from an alien race. I remember how right it felt to hold you in my arms, and the passion we discovered together when at last I had you in my bed. Oh, min kajesta, I remember it all."

Her face had turned a beguiling shade of red while he spoke, and he watched as the pupils in her eyes dilated at his words. Once more pull to have her without a moment to loose overtook him. Just speaking her praise out loud had him straining against his leather trousers with desire.

"I am glad," she managed to squeak out, eyes darting down and up again.

Caroline made a move towards him and Loki sprung into action, darting around the table and lifting a bottle of wine to offer her.

"May I pour you a glass, darling? I promise it is not the normal Asgardian vintage, but a perfectly respectable Chateaux Margot from Midgard."

"That would be nice," she sounded confused. "Loki, tell me what is bothering you? I promise, I will accept it, whatever it is."

"Of course you will, sweetheart," he sighed, pouring the wine into two glasses and handing one to her. "Just as you accepted every other facet of my disreputable life."

"Well, I don't so much know if I accept the invasion and all the destruction that went with it," she qualified, "but I do understand the mitigating factors. But please, for the sake of my sanity, tell me what is wrong."

"My darling, since the moment you met me, bound in that cell, your life has been in upheaval. I have torn you away from your work, your friends, your home. Your very life has been threatened on numerous occasions. It cannot have been an easy time for you."

"Not easy, no," she agreed, face scrunching adorably as she considered his words. "But at it was never dull. In all honesty Loki, there were days when I thought I lost you that were horrible. You can ask Tony at some point, or Bruce, I was a basket case. But as long as you were with me, I always believed that things would somehow work out. It was only when you were gone that I was panicked."

"Ah yes, Stark and Banner," he said their names with a grimace. "They are just the problem."

"Why? I thought you and Tony had bonded? And yes, I understand that Bruce might not be your favorite person, given the Hulk smashing, but -"

"You misunderstand me, love," he interrupted her. "I am not disparaging the Midgardian heroes. I will not even say anything against that blind menace who despite his infirmity managed to look inappropriately at you. No, it just that they are, well, heroes. That is what you are used to consorting with, Caro."

"I have not consorted with any of them!"

"I do not mean it in that way," he smiled at her, grateful despite the misunderstanding to hear that she had not been more than a colleague with any of them. "I simply mean that you spent your time on Earth with a certain type of man. The heroic, selfless type to be specific."

"I would hardly call Tony selfless," she scoffed.

"You are deliberately deflecting what I am trying to say," he ground out, frustrated that she was interrupting him. "This is hard for me darling, please let me finish."

"Sorry," she mumbled, face not loosing its impatient look.

"With the caveat that Stark is possibly the only person alive as self interested as I am," he admitted, ceding her the point, "you are part of a team of heroes. Yes, there are times when certain members of that team do things that go against that code of ethics, as when they wanted to execute me without a proper trial, but for the most part, those that you surround yourself with are paragons of humanity, struggling to do what is right and just."

"Alright," she said slowly as he paused. "I might have some issues with parts of what you said, but I will grant you the basic premise. I work with a team of good guys. What is your point?"

"My point, my love, is that I am not a hero. I am a seriously flawed semi-reformed super villain at best."

"Loki," she said, face contorting to hide what looked suspiciously like laughter, "is that what you think?"

"It is the truth."

"Have you not been paying attention?" she asked in frustration, flopping down into one of his chairs and taking a long drink of wine. "Very good by the way. Alright, where to begin... How may times have you saved Thor's life? When you would go on your missions for Asgard before his thwarted coronation?"

"Countless, particularly if you take into account the times I kept him from saying or doing something dramatically stupid."

"And by how many of those missions was Asgard kept safe?"

"All of them, but it is not the same thing."

"Isn't it? You were fighting to protect your home. It is no different from what Tony does on Earth. And when we came up with the plan to retrieve the Mind Stone, the very thing that had caused you so much pain and torture, did you Tony, Thor, and I go alone? No, even though it was not your world that hung in the balance, you put your life on the line, not to mention your sanity, and helped us keep the jewel from falling into unsafe hands. What do you call that?"

"Righting a wrong I myself committed."

"But that's my point!" she insisted, sloshing wine onto the carpet as she gestured for effect. "Everyone commits wrongs. No hero is perfect. Not Matt, not Bruce, certainly not Tony. It doesn't matter if you make mistakes. What matters is that you when you do, you try to make them right. You are a hero, Loki, not because you are perfect, but because you try."

"You don't think I'm perfect?" he asked with a smirk and a raised eyebrow that sent a flood of desire through her.

"I plead the fifth," she said, bringing a confused look to his face. "Loki, let me put it this way. You are all the hero I need."

"You are sure?"

"More sure than I have ever been about anything in my life. I love you, Loki."

"Well in that case," Loki took a big breath and reached into his pocket universe, "I would like to offer you this."

With all of his nerves ready to snap, he held out the small golden apple in his hand to her.

***

Caroline had been looking forward to this moment with Loki for what seemed like ages. First she had thought him gone, most likely dead if not dying. Then, just when she had found out that he was alive, his memory was wiped out, taking all of his knowledge of their relationship. She had white knuckled it through the past few days when Loki, lacking his memories, had nonetheless invited intimacies with her, ones she desperately wanted, but felt guilty indulging in with his altered state.

Now, at last, the were both healthy and whole, minds in tact. She wanting nothing in the world but to have a sizable amount of time together, alone.

She had slipped out of the room when Loki had emerged from his procedure and greeted his family. Yes, she had been separated from a fully functional Loki for days, but his separation from his family had been going on for longer. It was important, she thought, to give Loki, Frigga, and Thor a moment to reforge their frayed family bond. Watching all of the love his mother and brother surrounded him with had made Caroline happy, but she still felt as yet a bit of an outsider, not sharing the centuries of history with the three. A quiet exit seemed the most tactful action she could take.

Now at last, it was her turn. Loki had sent her a message asking that she meet him in his rooms. Suppressing a thrill she let her mind wander to why he might want to meet her there. Could it have anything to do with the large, comfy bed that dominated the room? Caroline could only hope.

Her pulse was racing as she knocked on the door. The few doors down from where she herself had been allotted quarters was long enough to amp up her excitement to a fever point.

The Loki who answered the door was not the one she had been expecting. Judging by Loki's actions in all of there previous time together, Caroline would have expected him to pounce on her. They had wasted so much time apart, be it mentally or physically, that even a few moments not in his arms seemed a crime to her. He, on the other hand appeared determined to keep the whole room between them. Why?

She tried to track his thoughts as Loki rambled on, to answer sensibly about all that they had gone through, to defend him against himself, but as he kept talking, her mind was screaming for him to throw her onto the bed that loomed just behind him and ravish her. What was taking him so long?

"You don't think I'm perfect?" Loki asked, seizing on and twisting a comment she had made in the midst of trying to convince him not to belittle himself. His look, cocky and knowing, sent a wave of lust so strong through her that Caroline pressed her thighs together to counter it.

"I plead the fifth," she said, forgetting for a moment that he would have scant knowledge of American legal terms. "Loki, let me put it this way. You are all the hero I need."

"You are sure?" he seemed intent on the point, as though their futures depended on it.

"More sure than I have ever been about anything in my life. I love you, Loki." It really was as simple as that.

"Well in that case, I would like to offer you this."

Caroline didn't know what she had been expecting. Jewelry perhaps? His empty had to pull her close to him? Certainly she had not been expecting a small, perfectly formed golden apple. She could tell from the look on his face that it was important, but she had no idea in what way. Distantly, she thought she might have seen something about an apple in that large encyclopedia she had paged through in his cabin, she couldn't remember what the significance was. She was fairly certain it was nothing to do with the Frost Giant side of his heritage.

"Thank you?" she said uncertainly, reaching for the apple.

"You don't understand, do you?" he guessed, reading her. "Of course not, how could you. Caroline, min kajesta, I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

"I want that too, Loki," she said, beaming from the inside.

"No, you misunderstand me, my love," he smiled again, getting down on one knee in front of her chair and caressing the side of her face. "I want to spend not just the rest of your life, the short life of a mortal, with you, but the mine. The lifespan of a God."

"Loki, I am not a God, or a Goddess," she laughed nervously at the very idea.

"To me you are the very definition of Goddess," he told her, eyes brimming with love. "You are wise, gentle, strong, loving, and, to be quite candid, the most desirable creature I have ever met. All you are missing is longevity. And this apple can give it to you."

"What?" she must be hearing him wrong, she thought.

"The Golden Apples of Idun can grant a sort of immortality to any who eat them," he explained quietly. "They can, in short, turn a mortal into a God."

"How many are there?" she asked, stalling for time.

"At the moment? Three. When you have eaten one, there will be two. But fret not, more will grow. I a thousand years or so, another will take this one's place."

"Loki, I can't take that! It is too precious for me."

"The stars are not too precious for you, my dearest love," he told her seriously. "I would steal them all for you."

"Did you steal the apple?" she asked.

"I would have, if I had to, but I did not. Frigga called in a favor from Idun and procured it for me."

"Frigga did that?"

"She did. She loves me, it seems. And she thinks you are good for me. She is right, you are far too good for me, but I intend to have you nonetheless. Will you have me, min kajesta? Will you share this long life we me as we commit mischief across the galaxy? Say yes, love. Please."

"Loki," she said his name like a prayer. "Yes, my love."

#Loki #loki/ofc #fanfic #Loki fanfic #Thor #Avengers #Frigga #Therapy #romance #recovery #love #true love #future sexy times #I promise #It's back!!!#sorry for the delay #Please forgive me #Loki makes a big ask

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king-of-the-underworld-hades · 4 months

Note

You could do It wednesday x male ivar the boneless reader (vikings)

The Boneless. (Male)

Ivar is the 3rd best Vikings Character(in my opinion) Bjorn Ironside 2nd, Ragnar Lothbrok 1st

^ by Abimanyu on pintrest ^ link

The morning light hit your face and caused you to wake from your slumber. You grunted as you sat up, grabbed your legs, and swung your legs over the edge of your bed. Grabbing your walking cane, which you kept by your bed, using it to help you stand. The cane was a black ebony wood with Nordic runes running down it, the handle was the head of a silver raven with sapphires as its eyes. You gritted your teeth and groaned as you stood up stumbling slightly, you inhaled before letting out a sigh as you walked to your bathroom. You leaned on your bathroom counter and looked in the mirror. You had slight bags under your eyes and your neck long hair was slightly disheveled. You changed into your usual street clothes running your hand through your hair you looked in the mirror you heard your dorm room doorknob turning Instinctively you grabbed the one-handed axe that you kept in your bathroom, and you looked out the bathroom doorway and saw the door opening. "It's me," the monotone voice of your girlfriend, Wednesday Addams was heard as you sighed and put down the axe. "You almost ended up with an axe in your head," you said, your Scandinavian accent slightly showing, as she walked to you. She leaned on the bathroom door frame her eyes scanning and studying you. "What's wrong?" She asked in her usual tone of voice. "Noth-" "Don't lie," she said cutting you off. You sighed and ran your hand through your hair once more. "It's just..." "It's Parents Weekend or for you the weekend your brothers visit. And in turn some of the army," she states as she grabs the fold-up chair nearby, opens it, and forces you to sit as she starts to braid your hair. "I'm aware that your relationship with your brothers isn't the best but you can't be as Enid says "A Debby Downer" because of that fact," Wednesday says as you sigh once more. Ever since you two met she was probably the only one who could read you. And when you two started dating she was able to know why you were upset. Whether it be, because it's Parents Weekend or it's the anniversary of your mother's death. Wednesday finishes your braids and walks around the chair to get to the front of you cupping your face. "I am aware it's hard to see your brothers. Especially, Bjorn, but you can't let that affect you, Every. Single. Time," She said looking into your directly into eyes. You nod silently before she leans down and kisses you softly, you kiss her back matching her softness and love. She soon pulled away and helped you to your fest handing you your walking cane. You took it from her hand as she grabbed your free hand before leading you to the Quad.

Most of the day had gone smoothly. You met up with Pugsley, Uncle Fester, Morticia, Gomez, and Uncle Itt once again. You spent most of your day with the Addams Family but then you heard the steps of multiple soldiers coming into the Quad. Many of the families turned to looks as twenty Vikings emerged and lined up shoulder-to-shoulder. Then your three brothers walked down the path. Bjorn at the head, Ubbe to his left, and Hvitserk to his right. You stood at the end of the row... staring... and waiting. All eyes were on you and your brothers and Bjorn was the first to speak. "ᚺᛖᛚᛚᛟ, ᛒᚱᛟᛏᚺᛖᚱ,(Hello, brother)" he spoke in your native tongue. You simply kept staring at him. Not saying a word. Hvitserk was the one to break the silence as he walked past Bjron and grasped your shoulders smiling. "ᛁᛏ'ᛋ ᚷᛟᛟᛞ ᛏᛟ ᛋᛖᛖ ᚤᛟᚢ Y/N,(Its good to see you Y/N)" He said smiling. You smiled back. "You to Hvitserk," You said smiling until Hvitserk moved away leaving Bjron and Ubbe in front of you. "Well. Shall we sit?" You ask motioning to a free table. Bjorn and Ubbe both walked to the table Hvitserk followed soon after patting your shoulder as he passed you the soldiers soon following after. Letting out a sigh you felt the familiar cold hand of Wednesday cup your cheek. You looked at her for a second a small smile gracing your lips. "How was that?" "Good. You're keeping your anger under wraps," She said softly as she grabbed your hand and led you to the table where the other Vikings were. You sat down across from Bjorn, Ubbe, and Hvitserk with Wednesday to your right. Ubbe observed her for a second before turning to you. "ᚹᚺᛟ ᛁᛋ ᛏᚺᛁᛋ?(Who is this?)," He asked you before you could answer Wednesday answered for you. "ᛁ'ᛗ ��ᛁᛋ ᛚᛟᚡᛖᚱ,(I'm his lover)" Your brother each looked at her surprised as you took a sip of ale.

The first day went fine but the second day was when all things went to shit. While conversing and eating with Wednesday's family you caught sight of someone... a blond blue-eyed woman. Anger surged through your veins as you stood up grabbed a knife and threw it at the woman barely grazing her shoulder before she could react to reach her axe in hand you tried to strike her but Ubbe got in your way stopping your axe and throwing you back with Hvitserk catching you. You tried to break free but both Hvitserk and Wednesday held you back as you screamed. "What the fuck is she doing here!?" The woman was still behind Ubbe staring at you and Bjorn checked the cut you caused. "Lagertha has every right to" "Bullshit!" You yelled cutting him off as you freed yourself from the grasp of your brother and girlfriend. "Y/N you need to forgive her," Ubbe spoke hand on your chest keeping you from getting any closer. "I can never forgive Lagertha for murdering our mother so how you, hm?" You asked as Ubbe shook his head turning away angering you more as you shoved him back. "Our mother! Of course, I'm going to kill her." "You can try," She said looking eyes with yours. "Oh, I will. That I can promise."

Reasonably they all left afterwards to avoid any further issues with you and Lagertha. You were sitting in your room sharpening your axe when Wednesday walked in. "Why did you never tell me Lagertha killed your mother?" She asked anger lacing her voice. "I thought you said no secrets." "It's not something I like to think about... it didn't matter to me because Hvitserk had said she stayed in Kattagat with no reason to leave. I don't know why she came," you said throwing your axe into the target across from your bed. "Doesn't excuse you for not telling me," She said as she grabbed your chin to make you look at her. "When my mother died and I found out it was Lagertha I tried to kill her. And failed. Over and over. My mother was a seer and said she would be cursed if she killed her," you said calmly. "I will kill her," she has no reason to even be although in your head. Wednesday sighed and caressed your cheek. "Let this be the last secret you keep. Understood?" You nodded as she climbed into bed with you putting your head on her chest and began to stroke your hair as your anger subsided.

#male reader #reader insert #wedensday x you #wednesday addams x male reader #wednesday x reader #king of the underworld hades #viking #vikings #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson

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rinbowaman · 25 days

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GAWD I’ve talking about heelel and his brothers. You mentioned that the series is based off the Bible but also your creativity. I want to know how you pictured heelel being the snake and convincing Eve to eat the apple. PLEASE!

I also thought about this when I drafted the series this is how I pictured it going down…again, based of some Biblical facts but also adjusted in fictitious structure for the sake of the story…a little bit of angst (heele waiting for you).

“The Forbidden Fruit”

Warnings: Biblical adjustment, sin, going against Gods will, Timelapse, …think that’s it. Try not to fall in love with snake heelel. lol.

“He has done it…our former master created the first man.”

Heeseung stands oddly calm, but the sense of betrayal and anger riles up inside him as his young brother’s words enters his ear canal.

‘How could he do this? How could he…’

Cursing himself, Heeseung remains silent as he commits to his plan: destroy humanity. Prove to God that making them was the worst mistake.

Perhaps after seeing how terrible they will turn out to be, maybe then his former master will apologize and beg for his forgiveness.

“What was it again? The reason why he created them? It was to teach something…what was it though?”

The brothers ponder aloud when Heeseung’s voice punctures through in a tranquil tone…

“They are capable of teaching others how to love…”

‘That is the reason you told me…how absurd. Wasn’t my love for you—as your favorite, enough?’

“Well, we shall see. He started off with a man, and he just made another, called ‘woman’.”

“Where is he keeping them?” Jay inquired as he partakes in Leviathans gossip. “It’s in a garden.”

Heeseung continues to look amused as he sits atop his throne, while his younger siblings all speak of the abomination that is mankind.

“Helel, do what do you-“ Sunghoon pauses as he and the others all look and note that Heeseung had suddenly disappeared. His throne sat empty. “Where did he go?”

…………….

A young woman bares the nude flesh of new skin. She hums a song matching the birds as they hover above and teach her the meaning of song. She enjoys the loveliness of the garden, frolicking among the trees and wild flowers that grow around her, when suddenly a deep, echoing voice emerges. It sounds out from all around, making the direct source unknown and hard to find.

“Child…woman…creature made of flesh and bone…a copy cat of the first one. Come this way.”

“Wh-who’s there?”

She looks around, dizzying herself as she tries to locate the person speaking. “Who are you?”

“Lost mind…wandering soul…you are frightened by the sound of my voice, aren’t you?”

The woman grows hesitant and begins to cover herself. Up until now, her nudity didn’t feel so exposed, but the alluring and toxic tone of the man’s voice seemed to trigger a sense of shyness.

“Fear not. I’m not here to hurt you, on the contrary I am here to help you.”

“Help me?”

“Yesss…thaaasts right. Come closer to the tree.”

“B-but…we were told to not go to that tree.”

“Why? It’s just a tree…nothing more special than the rest surrounding you.”

The woman stays silent and refrains from moving, until the reassurance of the voice compels her to move. “I promise, nothing will happen to you. Now, come to the tree, my dear.”

She moves over, hesitantly as she fears for the worst to occur the moment she steps foot near the root of the forbidden tree, yet the curiosity has gotten the best of her. Reaching it, she breathes in relief when all remained well.

“There…see? I told you all would be well. You have nothing to fear, I will never lie to you.”

“Please tell me who you are. Won’t you show me your face? Are you just like me and the other, Adam?”

Suddenly a large emerald serpent coils around the tree before her, it was large and beautiful.

“Hello….Eeeeeve.” His voice is taunting yet teasingly playful, almost flirtatious.

“H-how do you know my name?”

“I know everything.”

Eve chuckles. The serpent carried a sense of charisma as it spoke. “You’re a strange creature.” She remarks comfortably.

“I am just like you…I too was created by the one who made you.” His voice taps into a tune of amusement. “We are the same…you and I.”

The serpent then takes an apple, swallowing it before leveling its eyes once more to Eve’s. “Yummy.”

Eves eyes widen in shock. Her lips quiver as she witnessed the serpent devouring the shiny red apple. It appealed to her deliciously, triggering a sense she had yet to experience up until now. It was a hunger, a yearning for something that she was not allowed to have, a feeling of desire of wanting the unobtainable.

“Have one.” The serpent tells her.

“W-we’re not allowed. We were told to not eat the fruit from this tree.”

The serpent smirks. “Why? It is just an apple, what harm could it do to have but one?”

“I don’t want to get into trouble.” Eves tone was hesitant, but the serpent knew she was right on the edge. Just a little more…

“You won’t. I told you, didn’t I? You and I are the same. If I can eat one, you can too.”

Eve sends a subtle smile. It’s true, the serpent are an apple and nothing has happened. Perhaps all will be well should she take just one bite out of the juicy red fruit.

The serpent flicks its tail and coils it around a perfectly ripe apple, and presents it to Eve. “Eat.”

Eve takes the fruit from the serpent, and smiles once more. “Is it truly alright for me to do so?”

The serpent’s smirk grows widely as his ruby eyes become narrow. “I told you…I’d never lie to you.”

………….

Heeseung rejoices internally as he sits back on his throne. “What an idiot.”

After convincing Eve to eat the apple, his plan went accordingly as he witnessed his former master banish them from the garden. Now, he must see that he was right and that humans are nothing but chaotic creatures that will create a path of destruction. “What a fucking joke.”

“Helel, we have come to pay a visit. Will you receive us?”

Heeseung peeks between his fingers as he shielded his eyes during his evil chuckle. “Of course I receive you, you think i’d let you make it up this far if I didn’t?”

The elder is least amused by Heeseung’s tone. “No, i do not think you would. In fact, i feel that you would have ended us and lol our heads off the moment we set foot in Hell.”

Heeseung chuckles. “Well you’re right. But since I’ve been gracious enough to let you in, tell me…is he sorry? Does he now see how terrible of a mistake it was to create those little shits?”

The elder shakes his head tiresomely. “Why did you compel her to eat the forbidden fruit? Do you hate our master that much?”

Heeseung snaps as he leans forward from his throne. “The man banished my brothers and I from the very home we ever knew, and chose mortal creation over our judgement…OF COURSE I HATE HIM.”

The elder raises a hand of peace and speaks out once more. “Fallen angel, favorite of my master…we are not here to provoke you…we are here to show you a vision.”

“What…vision?” The least bit interested, yet a slight bit of curiosity peaks as Heeseung leans back and spoke under heavy and lazy lids. “I am curious as to what you have up in your sleeve, Elder…for you should already know that no matter what it is, it isn’t going to stop me from tearing these mortals limb from limb…even if he fills the world with them.”

The elder nods. “Well then, there is no harm in showing you. Should that be your resolve still, then we shall leave and never bother you. Though we won’t stand by and watch you destroy his creation.”

Heeseung rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever old man, just hurry up and show me what it is and be gone already. I’ve got blood and carnage to commit to.”

“Come with us Favorite Son of God, and we will show you his vision. In order to do so, we must travel to the altar.”

Heeseung sighs. “All the way there? Fucking aye…” standing from his throne, he stretched his neck as he expresses lethargically the lack of amusement he had it within him to attend this event. “Let’s get this done and over with. Better be good old man…for your sake.”

And like that, the elder and his disciples take the Devil to the altar.

……………….

‘I longed to commit death, in the most violent manner.

My plans to obtain brutal screams and shattered dreams is near, I can taste it.

When suddenly a young songbird crosses my path. She swings before me and tweets a tune.

I want to snag her out of the air she spreads her wings in, and crush her breasts to pieces.

My hand reaches for her, and yet, she did not flee.

She is perched atop my finger, and there I see.

It was not a songbird that flew before me, but a lone flower whose petals danced like wings.

It was not the tweeting that traveled in my ears, but the song of the wind that carried me…that lifts me.

It was not the soft colors of feathers that brightened my vision. It was Auroras sky reflecting off the Northern Lights.

I held that flower in my hand and kissed it, and watched the flower grow thorns. She pierces me in many ways, and leaves her thorns imbedded in me.

She is everything and everywhere. She is the air I breathe, the skin coating my flesh, the color of my vision. She is…

…………….

“Eldest brother, are you alright? You seem to have something on your mind…what are you thinking about? Does it have something to do with the Elders most recent visit? Does it have anything to do with what they showed you at the altar?”

…

“Helel?”

“Do not worry…I am fine.”

“Well…you haven’t been yourself. Should there be anything you need to tell us?”

“No….she hasn’t arrived yet.”

“….she???”

………..

“Yes…she.”

#heeseung x reader #heeseung scenarios #enha x reader #heeseung fanfic #enha heeseung #yandere heeseung imagines #yandere enha #yandere enhypen

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enm-enthusiast · 8 months

Text

The Exhibitionists Club Ch. 4 - Jack Part 2

Last chapter we saw Jack witness the preliminary wrestling match between his colleagues Daniel and Roderick, in which Daniel surprisingly came out the victor, but now before both of their cocks were put on display in front of the entire crowd. Now, Jack has to face his own boss, Henry in a strip wrestling match, can he emerge victorious and get through his initiation unscathed? Or will he end up a naked loser?...

Jack

I swallowed the growing pit in my throat as I followed Henry up on the stage, and as I did I took the chance to size my boss up. He wasn’t as tall as me, standing at 5’10 compared to my 6’2 but he was bulkier, his thighs and arm muscles far exceeded my own and from the stories I had heard around the office he knew how to use them. His casual clothes couldn’t hide his rather impressive glutes, either, and I couldn’t help but admire his toned and meaty globes attached to his backside. His graying dirty blonde hair was cut short, and had recently shaved his neat, handsome face, his piercing hazel eyes turned to look at me and flash a dazzling, knowing wink and a smile before taking the final steps up on stage.

I followed him up, the bright lights flooding my vision and making me temporarily squint as my eyes adjusted from the darkness of the crowd. Ian greeted us as he did Daniel and Rod, we introduced ourselves to him, afterwards he turned back to the crowd and said “There you have it gents, our next two volunteers! And may I say what hunks, am I right?” He said.

Many from the crowd voiced their agreement and I thought I heard one even say: “Tear his clothes off, blondie!” and I felt my face flush from heat as I knew who they were referring to.

“Let’s wait and see who rips off whose clothes first, shall we? Now, to repeat, there is no biting, kicking, or low blows to sensitive areas, either of you get caught doing this by me or security and we will remove you from the premises, right?” He said, matter of fact. Both me and Henry nodded our heads and Ian waved us down to the ring and we separated to take opposing spots with me on the left and Henry on the right.

“And remember! First one to lose all his clothes will lose the match, and you can either keep or return the loser's underwear, and with that, let’s get this show on the road!” Ian finished and me and Henry both took our socks and shoes off, taking our first careful steps inside the oil-slicked ring.

I was wearing casual navy blue shorts, a red shirt, and a red and black jockstrap underneath it all…I told myself that my opponent would be someone I could handle enough that I wouldn’t lose more than my shirt. True enough, if anyone else BUT Henry had been chosen to wrestle me my victory was guaranteed, no doubt it's why he's my opponent.

Henry himself was wearing black cargo shorts and a black tank top, showing off his muscled arms which threatened to put me in a hold I’d never escape from if he managed it. We began sizing each other up in the precious few seconds we had before Ian started his countdown to begin. My best chance was to evade being grappled by his arms and focus on his legs which would slow him down. I’d go for his tank top first, the straps were an easy target that wouldn’t be an issue for me to simply rip off of him.

“1!” Ian shouted, his countdown had begun.

I spread my legs open and crouched, storing energy in my legs in case I got the opportunity to pounce and wrap my legs around him.

“2!”

Henry moved his arms up in a defensive position, which made me think he was either preparing for a straight up attack or was feinting and trying to catch me off-guard.

“3!”

The match had begun, and true enough he was feinting, because I didn’t move first, instead he lunged at me like lightning after the first few seconds had passed. My eyes widened and I moved to sidestep him but he reached his arm out which managed to grab right onto my left hand and he pulled me along with him.

I pried my hand from his grasp and moved before he could, he was against the edge of the ring and so I wrapped my legs around his waist and hooked my arms underneath his and pulled upwards. Within the first minute I managed to get him firmly pinned.

“Fuck…your quicker than I thought” Henry said, his voice hoarse from the breath being knocked out of him.

“Maybe you're just getting slow, old man,” I said, my smile widening. I noticed my crotch was pressed into his lower back, right against his firm ass. As soon as I realized, I could feel my cock start to respond and I cursed myself silently as the more I restrained Henry the more his ass pressed upwards onto my crotch.

My bulge was growing as I could feel his glutes rubbing up against me, despite the layers of fabric in between. Henry tried to free an arm and I responded by lifting Henry up further which as soon as I did it, I knew it was a mistake.

I landed his backside right in the middle of my crotch, my shaft was even rising in a way that nestled itself between his cheeks and at the contact I couldn’t help but bite my lip and said “Fucckkkk” under my breath.

Henry, damn him, heard me and even from this angle I saw a smile split his face. “What’s the matter, tough guy? Is all this muscle too much for you? Or are you just happy to see me” He said and I could tell he had noticed something poking at his ass and my expression of arousal had only confirmed his suspicions.

I didn’t answer, but even while restrained he could still slightly move and so he took it upon himself to sway his ass from side to side, effectively grinding his ass against my quickly growing cock.

I sucked in a breath as the contact only made my cock grow to full mast inside my shorts and jockstrap. I felt my head swirl with lust as I wanted to completely tear off Henry’s clothes and bend him over and fuck him senseless but I had to focus, I had to keep him pinned so I could rip off his tank top. I managed to clear my head at least for a moment so I had to act fast because as soon as one of his arms was free it would only be a few seconds before he broke away completely.

As Henry continued grinding against me, I counted down internally and as soon as I hit 5 I once again lifted Henry up, bending his back and while he was distracted I let go of his left arm and immediately grabbed ahold of the left strap of his tank top and Henry was beginning to realize what I was doing.

I tightened my grip, released my legs around his waist, and whilst pushing my legs away while still holding onto his left strap…

RIIIIIIPPPPPP

I lunged away but half his tank top came with me, the rest was in shreds around him and was now stripped to his waist, and the crowd cheered as I lifted up the garment in a momentary victory and threw it into the crowd. Henry turned to face me, now bare-chested and as I always suspected was quite hairy but still very well built and stocky. His torso was already beginning to glisten from the oil, because as soon as I had jumped away he had landed on the ground, and it only accentuated his large male pecs which rippled with muscle as he instinctively flexed them as he ripped away the remaining shreds of his shirt.

The movement stirred something in me, his large dominating figure awakened something primal, and I felt an equal urge to both break and bend his ass over for me…and for him to utterly pound me into submission. My cock twitched in response as it continued to throb, still imprisoned within my jockstrap.

“I see you haven’t lost your edge, it’s too bad though…playtime’s over” Henry said, his eyes locked onto mine and the look in them sent a tingle down my spine, and a chilling dread in the pit of my stomach. His expression wasn’t one of rage or amusement like it was before, no, his face was stone-cold and determined, and it both frightened and turned me on at the same time.

He readied himself, arms up in defense and I matched his movements in quick succession. We then circled one another as we slowly traversed the floor of the ring on our knees, each waiting for a sign of weakness, and it wasn’t until someone in the crowd nearby coughed that Henry made his move.

He lunged forward and so did I, and our palms slammed into each other, the force of which had me slide backwards a few feet. This didn’t deter me as I knew my next target was his shorts, and I briefly glanced down at them until my eyes locked right onto his crotch…

He had a full on bulge going on, and judging from the size of the tent he was pitching down there, the old man had nothing to be ashamed of unlike poor Rod.

I had to force myself to look away and locked eyes on Henry’s again, who noticed where my eyes had gone but his expression hadn’t changed, he still looked like he was equally ready to end me as much as strip me naked.

Our arms were locked in a struggle, and I was holding my own for the moment but I could already feel the strain on my arms weakening my resistance against the slow push of his arms against mine. I tried to push back in a vain attempt to knock him off his balance and I did succeed in sliding him back a bit, however Henry just smiled, a cold, wicked smile and said “it’s cute how you think this is my full strength, time to show you how it’s done”.

He breathed in deeply and his arm muscles rippled and he pushed with much more force this time, and my arms, already strained, couldn't keep up and I lost my grip. Henry seized the advantage and lunged forward and I was too slow to react to try and evade him. With one arm he bound mine behind my back and slammed me down on the ground with my arms pinned underneath me. He used his right arm to hold my torso in place while his legs held down my own.

He didn’t waste any time gloating or taunting, no he went straight for my throat with his free left hand and gripped the collar of my shirt tightly in his fist. He leaned down towards my ear and without warning he softly licked my earlobe which, despite myself I whimpered and felt my body tingle as he did so. My face flooded with heat as he said “you have no idea how bad you're gonna get it, this is just the start” and with a growl in his throat he tightened his grip on my shirt…and pulled.

RIPPPPP

He completely tore off my shirt, leaving my furry but stocky and well-built chest exposed. The crowd was loving it, they watched Henry completely turn the tables on me and had me firmly pinned, there wasn’t anything I could do to escape unless he wanted me to. Suddenly, he gave both my nipples a twist which made me suddenly gasp and say “Ahhh…fuckkk” I said.

My cock throbbed inside my shorts and Henry noticed the tent in my pants suddenly lurch upward. His grin grew even wider now, and he twisted my nipples again, and again. I had to bite my lip to keep myself from moaning, instead I put every ounce of energy into looking for an opportunity to escape. However, my hopes were in vain as he twisted my nipples one last time, and harder too, I couldn’t help but let out a soft “Mmmmm”

While I was distracted, Henry suddenly stepped off me and before I could react he flipped me over onto my stomach and quickly put down my flailing legs and held my arms down with his right. Henry didn’t waste any time in giving my ass a quick slip before saying “time to lose the shorts” he said out loud.

Some in the crowd had heard him and they began to chant the words “lose the shorts!” “lose the shorts!” “lose the shorts!” they said, each time more voices joined in. I couldn’t tell if our colleagues had joined in or not but soon enough their voices chanted in near unison for Henry to divest me of another piece of clothing.

After a few moments, Henry bowed to their wishes, because he kept my legs pinned down but used both of his arms and reached for the sides of my shorts. The soft contact of his hands against my bare skin at first made me gasp and my cock twitch slightly as it was pressed against the floor. He slowly started to lower my shorts, and I could feel the cold air against my lower half as he did so and my cheeks flooded with shame as I felt the top of my ass being exposed.

“Wow! We got another jockstrap here!”

“What a pale butt, he needs to tan more”

“Smack his bare ass!”

As he exposed the top half of my bare butt, Henry did just that and I felt his hand smack against me, the sting made my eyes water a bit and strangely my cock throbbed even harder inside the pouch of my jockstrap. After that, however, Henry lifted himself off me and quickly slid my shorts down and off of my legs, throwing them into the crowd which left me in nothing but my jock, and people quickly noticed my bulge as I flipped upwards to face him.

Before Henry could prepare another attack, I recklessly tackled him to the ground, and the crowd lost it as we each rolled over, our bodies becoming ever more slick with sweat and oil as they collided with both the floor and each other. Henry was caught off guard and I used it to my advantage as we wrestled across the ring, and despite my frantic, energetic attempts to reach them his powerful arms constantly blocked any attempt at grabbing for his shorts.

At one point he wrapped his arms around my stomach and lifted me upwards, holding my body against him, and this time, as I did at the start of our match, this time I could feel his bulge’s warmth against my ass and Henry growled in his throat as he thrust his hips upward, sliding his crotch against my exposed ass cheeks.

The red in my face returned as it felt so good to feel the warmth of his bulge thrusting against me and that strange desire to submit to him returned. I briefly imagined myself in his office, this time both of us naked and me bent over his desk, with him pounding away at me like the alpha male he was that was claiming what was his. My desire to strip away his shorts now intermingled with my lust for my own boss, which only made me want to slap myself for acting like an animal when I had a match to win.

I had to break away, but suddenly Henry’s hand reached underneath me, grazing my bare ass cheeks but reaching past to grab my aching cock through the jockstrap’s pouch and I audibly whimpered this time. Henry’s voice whispered in my ear “who knew that the big, tough, new guy Jack was secretly a slut that’s practically begging to take my cock” he said, chuckling softly and I felt my face flood with shame. He knew this was turning me on like hell, and had intuitively guessed at my lust for him. Even before today I caught a few glimpses now and then of his features, checking him out every time he flexed his muscles or bent over it would always catch my eye. But today was the first time I had ever felt anything so intense, especially with my growing desire to let him fuck my brains out, and the fact that he knew was just so embarrassing as I had always cultivated the ideal image of professionalism for myself, and with each time he massaged my bulge it made both my remaining dignity and self-control slip away ever further.

He continued to massage my boner through my jockstrap, and I knew that if I didn’t escape soon I might lose my only remaining piece of clothing or worse…shoot my load in front of everybody here. I couldn’t let that happen so with all my strength I pulled his left arm muscle which made Henry cry out in pain and I seized my chance to break free from his grip.

I turned around and lunged straight for his shorts, and I managed to grab a hold of his sides but the oil made my grip loose, which made it easy for him to quickly side step me. I wasn’t letting him off easy, so I followed and tumbled with him, his arms again kept trying to hold mine down and overpower me, but I adopted a strategy of swatting his hands away whenever he tried, and my legs were just as powerful as his, indeed mine had the edge in terms of energy and training as his leg strength gave out way faster than mine did.

His deeply-tanned torso was shining thanks to the oil, which some people continue to pour more into the ring to keep things from drying out. My own torso, much paler than Henry's, was glistening with sweat and oil, which made our grips and grabs flimsier and our bodies easily slid along anothers.

The crowd was enraptured not only by our determination but also the sexually charged tension between us. Henry had sensed my lust but I was beginning to sense something else from him too, it was one thing to tease and taunt your opponent, however it was another to grab his hard-on and thrust your bulge in between his bare ass cheeks.

My suspicions were confirmed when I made the mistake of trying to use the floor to slide away from his lunge and latched himself onto my shoulders, he quickly climbed over my body and used his own full body weight to hold me down on the ground, pinned beneath him. I felt it again as he did so, however, the same euphoric warmth of his bulge had nestled itself right along my ass crack. Because of this, I had a rough idea of how big he was and if I was right…he had at least 7 inches on him which I knew could utterly destroy me if he ever did pound me into submission like my cock was begging me to do.

Just then, however, I felt him thrust once, twice, three times, until he was outright humping me. I bit my lip once again and felt my face turn a crimson red as Henry utterly humiliated me by asserting his dominance and manhandling me as if I were nothing. That strange, suppressed desire was starting to take hold of me again, and it took all of my self-control to keep myself from begging him to fuck me right there and then.

I knew I was defeated, however, there was no escape this time and all he needed to do was snap the waistband of my jockstrap and it would be over. It made my desire to submit all the stronger but I held onto my defiance even as my cock was leaking precum inside the pouch of my jockstrap.

Henry showed no signs of stopping, in fact his slow thrusts turned deeper, faster, more full of energy as he wrapped his hand around the back of my neck and his voice in my ear said “Saturday, 9:00 o’clock at night, my office, don’t be late” he said before kissing the side of my face and licking my earlobe once again which sent shivers down my spine, before retreating.

In my confusion I almost didn’t register him suddenly wrapping his hands around the sides of my jock, and I sank my head in defeat as I felt the fabric give way with a simple snap and I laid there as Henry stood up and raised his arms in victory. The crowd cheered, but some expressed their desire to see me stand up with him, including, I noticed, our colleagues who were standing right beside the edge of the ring now. I realized there was no point in trying to hide, but thankfully Henry extended a hand to me and helped lift me up onto my feet.

“Jesus! That thing is thick!”

“Wow, Can you believe he’s already leaking?”

“Fuck, I’d ride him till he shot!”

Were all shouts from guys in the crowd I could make out coherently, but most of them drooled at the sight of my fully hard, 5-inch long and thick cock. My pale face was beet red, and I sheepishly smiled and chuckled at the guys from the office who all sported wide, shit-eating grins and suffered from bouts of laughter.

Suddenly, Ian tapped on his mic and said “Well well, looks like our winner is Henry Knight, and sorry Jack Whittle, guess you can’t keep your underwear, however, before you leave we keep spare clothes for those who lose them, but feel free to stay as bare as you want,” he said and gave me a wink that only made me turn my head away in embarrassment.

“Alright folks, let’s get at least two more rounds here, come on, volunteers” Ian said as me and Henry stepped out of the ring, and the guys greeted us with, as I expected, laughter and teasing. I used my hands to cover myself until my boner went down though none of the guys let me off the hook for it.

“Alright fellas, a bet’s a bet, time to pay up” Henry said, and held out his hand, waiting.

The guys all lost their grins immediately and started pulling out their wallets. “Um, what’s going on?” I asked, and Henry looked at me, still bare-chested, and smiled and said “Oh right, well the guys here bet me you wouldn’t even be able to get a single piece of clothing off, but I had faith you’d put up a fight, and trust me…you did” he said as he gladly accepted cash from each of our colleagues, all except for Daniel who stood off to the side, seems he hadn't taken the bet.

I almost couldn’t believe my ears, my mouth hung open, and I was about to lose my shit but suddenly I remembered the second part of my initiation bet…

“So….I lost, and I said I’d do one favor for you guys if I did, so…what is it?” I said.

Henry glanced at the guys, whose knowing smiles returned but they said nothing. Henry spoke up and said “come into work tomorrow and find out” he said, winking and that’s all he would say about it for the rest of the night. We decided to stay and watch the other two matches, one was a Latino man that looked like he was a professional marathon runner, the other was a young blonde that didn’t stand a chance and got stripped fully naked within 5 minutes. The second match was a lot closer, it was between that one hottie I saw before, Sebastian, and some other student I had seen on campus, some red-haired jock that talked a lot of shit. Sebastian managed to put him in his place, stripping his arrogant opponent naked but not before he lost his own shirt and pants. Ian called it a night after that, I made sure to grab a change of clothes from security, which were unfortunately too small but…it was better than walking out naked.

"See you at work tomorrow, sexy" Henry whispered in my ear as he walked by and towards the main doors. I couldn't help but shiver in pleasure as he did so, and despite myself...I couldn't wait for Saturday night, and judging by the growing bulge in my new pants...my cock agreed.

Next day at work

I arrived at my usual time, and everything seemed normal at first until I had put my change of clothes inside my locker and walked out into the main office to see all the guys standing there, including Henry, waiting for me.

“Uh…what’s up guys?” I asked, nervously.

Henry stepped up and said “Well, you wanted to know what your forfeit was for losing the match, and we decided that if you lost…you have to stay naked at the office for a whole week” he said, and some of the guys snickered.

My eyes widened and I could feel my cheeks blooming with heat as I panicked and said “What?! I’d never have agreed to-t-to this if I’d known this was my forfeit!” I said, my face now crimson red.

“That’s the point, you wouldn’t have, so we had to keep it vague, but you knew that we could have demanded anything when you agreed to the terms, it’s not our fault you failed to consider this possibility, so step up and take your punishment. Strip,” Henry said, that cold and serious look on his face again.

I hesitated, I began to think of what Henry had said last night right before he stripped my jockstrap away, and despite how mad and humiliated I felt…I already knew I was going to do exactly what he told me, and my cock began to rise at the thought of what he planned for me. I knew that there was no point in arguing, if I didn’t, they would strip me themselves, so…I began to remove my clothes.

The guys watched me like vultures as I stripped, first came my socks and shoes, which I left in front of me, then came my shirt which I slowly unbuttoned and I let fall onto the floor, next came my pants which quickly joined my shirt. That left me in nothing but my boxer briefs, and the guys all nodded their approval, including Henry, who watched me ravenously as I slowly pulled off my last piece of clothing and left them in a pile with my other clothes, leaving me totally naked.

Daniel, with a nod from Henry came over and quickly gathered up my clothes and walked off, which left me no choice but to stay naked. I used my hands to cover up and I hung my head in shame as I asked “Do I have to leave the office naked every night for the rest of the week?”

“No, you can get dressed in your change of clothes once you leave work every night, but not before then, oh and don’t worry I’ve changed the schedule, you're on office duty for the next week, so you better get busy naked boy” Henry said, winking at me before walking off.

The guys then walked over and started chatting with me, a bunch of them said they thought I had balls of steel to go up against the boss like that, while others asked if they could have another “look” but I told them to fuck off which thankfully they did. Through all of it, my hands covered what was left of my modesty and dignity. I thought I had found a way to make my initiation as least humiliating as possible…instead I managed to make it possibly the most any guy has ever had to endure.

As I walked past the guys who began to resume their work duties, I felt a stray hand slap my bare ass cheek as I walked by. I glared at them but they only grinned at me in return. They all talked among themselves and as I made my way to the reception desk, where the main desk worker was posted during the day, I thought again of what Henry said but also of how I had to stay naked for the entire week.

If they caught me trying to wear clothes at all they’d just strip me naked again, or worse punish me for disobeying…no, they were right, it was my idea and I agreed to their terms, better I just suck it up and deal with it…

What the guys didn’t know, or see, except maybe Henry, was that as I stripped away my underwear and stood naked in front of them, my cock rose to full mast and still hadn’t gone down. Thankfully I was able to tuck it between my legs and used my hands to cover it, though it made walking awkward. Still, the combination of confusion, embarrassment, and arousal only made things so unclear. One thing remained constant, however, and that was that no matter what, I was going to be in Henry’s office, at 9 o'clock ...on the dot.

End of Chapter.

Author’s Note:

Thank you guys for reading another chapter of this series! I know it’s been a while since my last post but don’t worry I haven’t forgotten you, I’m unsure which character to focus on next, please feel free to suggest any of the ones I’ve introduced so far or someone you’ve been wanting to see from the main cast list! Until next time, I’m always here and I hope you enjoyed ;)

These are my two main choices for the next character chapter, but again feel free to suggest otherwise!

Time for a blast from the past, either:

1.) Professor Ethan from The Professor's Anatomy.

2.) Thomas from Thomas' Misadventures

#enm #enm stripped humiliation #cmnm #gay #stripped #embarassing #enm story

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sortofanobsession · 1 month

Note

omg I’m so glad you’re alive and I hope you’re feeling better. Can’t wait to read your Ted lasso writing again<3

Author's Note: ask and you shall receive...

Content warning: injury, hospital, surgery, anxiety, fear, cussing (it's Roy so duh) Crying.

Paring: Roy/Jamie

Ted Lasso Masterlist

Ao3

No Show Roy-o

Jamie paced the locker room. The team just watching him.

Everyone's eyes snap to the door when someone starts to open it but they are disappointed when Ted and Beard walk in. The two coaches look at each other and then the team before heading into the office.

"Okay, something is wrong," Ted says as he sets his backpack down.

"Clearly," Beard replies.

Ted watches the team through the window and notices all the attention on Tartt. Well, then he knew where to start.

"What's wrong, Jamie?" Ted asks as he approaches the striker.

"Roy didn't show for training this morning and he isn't here yet."

"Has he ever missed before?"

"The man actually lives to wake me up at 4 am to order me around," Jamie states. "No, he never misses. Not without a text at least."

"Did you call him?"

"I'm not daft," Jamie huffs. "Several times. No answer. Now it goes to voicemail."

"Some of us tried too," Isaac says. "Nothing."

"Keeley hasn't been able to ring him either," Jamie says. "Should I call his sister?"

"You have his sister's number?"

"For emergencies, and Phoebe," Jamie admits.

"Hold on, you have contact with Roy's niece?" Ted asks. "She's what? 8?"

"That's really the important part to you now?" Jamie asks.

"Kinda, odd friendship there," Ted admits.

"She insists I'm Roy's best friend, and Roy says it's for emergencies. She has a very different definition of emergencies, like you said, she's 8."

"Okay, fine," Ted says. He could let that go for now.

"Do you think this counts as an emergency?" Jamie asks.

"Let's see if he is doesn’t show, not just later than normal," Ted says.

But when time comes to head out to the pitch and Roy still isn't there Jamie cracks and texts Roy's sister. She texts him back that she'll check his place. And that gives Jamie some reassurance as he begins training. He gives Ted his phone in case she or Roy calls. Ted initially thought it was silly, but about an hour in she does call. She tells Ted that Roy wasn't there and the fact he isn't answering for her is unusual. Roy would never ignore a call from her or Phoebe. But she also insists that Roy can handle himself. And she'll let them know if she hears anything. And that makes Ted a bit nervous. They were just about to take a break when Phoebe called Jamie. She is crying and Ted actually does call Jamie over for this one. And Jamie, still in his kit, drags Ted inside. Changes only his boots while still on the phone and whispers to Ted to get what he needs.

"Where are we going?" Ted asks but does as Jamie says because something feels very wrong here.

"The fucking hospital," Jamie hisses, not to be mean but more so Phoebe doesn't hear.

"Oh, that's bad, yeah, let's go." Ted nods and follows Jamie’s lead.

"We're on the way Phoebe, just stay there."

Phoebe runs over and hugs Jamie when she sees him.

"Hey, Phoe," Jamie says and despite the fact she is 8 years old, Jamie hauls her up into his arms for a hug. And Ted is almost envious of how easy that seemed for him. But Ted is still very confused. "You remember Coach Ted?" Jamie asks her. She nods as Jamie sets her down.

"Hi Phoebe," Ted says. "Are you okay?" Ted asks.

She shrugs and looks over. Ted sees a doctor he had met before, but she looked out of place in street clothes.

"Hey, Doc." Jamie hugs her. "What happened?"

"Still trying to sort that out," she says.

"You're Roy's sister?" Ted finally asks.

"Oh sorry, yeah, Coach Lasso, Doc. Doc, Coach Lasso."

"Thanks Jamie," Ted says at the less than helpful introduction but Jamie is already being pulled away to the waiting area by Phoebe.

"How much did Jamie tell you?"

"Absolutely nothing," Ted admits.

She shakes her head. "Right, Roy was brought in about a half hour ago. A friend of mine on shift recognized him and called me. They think he was hit by a car but we have no idea."

"Oh wow, I am so sorry, that-" Ted starts to say but she stops him.

"Thank you, he's in surgery now, I assume you will want to let Ms. Welton know. He might be out for a while."

"Yeah, right, good calls must run in the family," he says.

"Something like that," she says before going to check on Phoebe.

She leans in and whispers to Jamie that Roy is in surgery and it's a waiting game now.

Ted calls Rebecca and Beard, then Keeley. Keeley is there in less than twenty minutes.

"Keeley?" Jamie asks when he sees her. She hugs Phoebe and then him.

"Ted called," she says and smacks his arm.

"What was that for?"

"You didn't call me!"

"I was busy with her," Jamie says, gesturing to Phoebe. Thankfully she had her headphones on and was curled up in a chair.

"Fine, that is an acceptable excuse. Here," she hands him a bag. "I ran by Nelson Road and got your stuff. Sam had made sure it was packed up. They're all pretty worried."

"They aren't the only ones," Jamie glances at Phoebe.

"Does Ted know?"

She glances out the window to where Ted was clearly on the phone with Rebecca or Higgins.

"Know what?"

"About you and Roy?" She says.

"Nah, didn't know if I should tell him. We haven't talked about it."

"Well, I think this might genuinely blow your cover."

"Hasn't yet," Jamie says.

"Jamie, I know you. You're managing right now because of Phoebe, but the minute you see him, you-"

"I know," Jamie seems to deflate. "I am trying so hard but-"

"Oh babe," she hugs him and grimaces. "I love you, Jamie but do us all a favor and change. I'll stay with her."

"Yeah, right, okay," Jamie says as he heads to the toilets to change.

"Where's Jamie?" Ted asks when he gets back.

"Changing out of his kit, Ted there is something I need to tell you, the boys might get mad, but Jamie is going to need someone and as much as he tries to hide it he is terrified."

"Okay, lay it on me," Ted says.

"Roy and Jamie have been secretly dating since just after international break."

"Wow," Ted says. "That's…new information." He admits. "Does explain why he has Roy's sister in his phone. And why he was so worried when Roy didn't show up for training."

"They were keeping it a secret because well, for a lot of reasons, but I believe that ship might have sailed based on the fact Jamie didn't even change out of his kit."

"Did change his boots," Ted says.

"Probably not easy to drive in," she says.

"Probably," Ted agrees.

"Please don't make a big deal out of it, Jamie wasn't going to say anything because he wasn't sure if Roy would want him to, but Jamie brought you for a reason. He brought you because he trusts you and Roy trusts you. And I know you won't hold this against them."

"Heck no, I'm glad they have each other, just surprised is all. You think Jamie is just a ticking time bomb in this one?"

"Definitely," Keeley nods. "And I'm not sure what will set him off."

"Thanks for the heads up, I'll keep this between us unless something happens."

"Thank you, Ted."

Keeley heads back to work after they promise to keep her in the loop. Roy's sister comes back a bit later to tell them that Roy was out of surgery but it would be a bit before anyone could see him.

"You should be at training," is the first thing out of Roy Kent's mouth when they walk in. He glares at Jamie.

"Uncle Roy!" Phoebe rushes over and hugs him as best as she can.

"Hi, Phoebe," he says before looking at Jamie.

"You really think I would stay at training after they called me?" Jamie challenges.

"Yes, not much you can do here," Roy says.

"How hard did that car hit you?” Jamie narrows his gaze at him. “Because clearly your brain is rattled, old man."

"How you feeling, Roy?" Ted asks to get the two to quit being so grumpy.

"Like I got hit by a car," Roy states.

"You did," Phoebe sniffles.

"I'm okay, kid," he says. Earning a scoff from Jamie. Roy glares at him. "You should-"

"Oh, Jamie Tartt's not going anywhere," Ted assures him. "Rebecca already knows you'll be out for a while, and sorry boys, but the cats out of the bag on this one."

"You told him," Roy glares at Jamie again.

"I did not," Jamie looks just as shocked.

"Keeley told me," Ted says. "Because she was worried Jamie was handling it too well."

"Of course she was," Jamie complains.

"You did cry, like a lot earlier," Phoebe says.

"Thanks for that, Phoe," Jamie says, his tone less than amused at being called out by a literal child.

"Phoebe, why don't you help me find your mom and call Keeley," Ted says.

She seems to weigh her options.

"And stop by the vending machines," Ted adds.

"Okay," she hugs her uncle again before following Ted out. Roy looks over at Jamie and can tell he really is hanging in by a thread.

"I'm fine," Roy says. And Jamie doesn't even say anything, just crawls in the bed beside Roy. Roy grunts but manages to shift a bit to make them both fit. "Better?" Roy asks once Jamie is practically molded into his side.

"Yes, much," Jamie says and he buried his face in Roy's shoulder.

"Why am I not surprised?" Roy's sister says when she walks in.

"Not my idea," Roy says.

"Not complainin' though, yeah?" Jamie counters.

"Tear his stitches and I'm banning you myself, Tartt," she says.

"Ouch, Doc," Jamie says. "But fair."

She hums as she sets to checking his vitals.

“Pain?” She asks.

He grunts.

“Roy,” she starts but Jamie beats her to it.

“It's either now or you have to admit it when Phoebe gets back,” Jamie says. And whether it is because he's right or that Jamie's so close to losing it Roy knows he needs to answer.

“Fine, 6.”

“Right,” his sister says.

She makes a few notes.

It was quiet again when she left.

“Are you mad?” Jamie asks.

“That I got hit by a fucking car?” Roy counters. That seemed like an obvious question. Of fucking course he was. He could have died. His mind circles back as Jamie shifts.

“That people know,” Jamie corrects. “About us.”

Roy considers it as best he can with painkillers in his system. And he really doesn't fucking care because Jamie is there with him and despite how he was acting before he was glad he was there. It had been terrifying to think he might die when he has people that need him.

“No,” Roy finally answered. “Needed you here, and if that's the fucking cost. Fine.”

“Good, because I think the team knew something was up, but that might have been because I couldn't sit still.”

“When have you ever fucking sat still?” Roy posits.

“This was worse,” Jamie tells him. “I'm sure Will is going to be pissed at the state of my boots. Pacing constantly on a hard surface.”

“Well get you new fucking boots,” Roy assures.

“Least of my worries, love,” Jamie admits, carefully shifting so he can see Roy's face. “Scared the shit out of me when I couldn't- you weren't answering. No one could find you. You never-”

“Fuck,” Roy says because Jamie has tears streaming down his face and he hates when that happens. He hates that it's because of him, even if he had no say in what happened to him. Despite the ache it causes Roy reaches up and brushes as many of those tears away as he can without risking his stitches. “I'm-”

“Don't!” Jamie starts to pull away. The striker knew what he was about to say. Jamie vehemently shakes his head, causing Roy's hand to have to fall back to the bed. “You are not fucking fine, Roy,” Jamie states, and it was clear what little hold Jamie had on his feelings was slipping. “Because I’m not! Phoebe isn’t either. You nearly died! I can't…do you think I want to do any of this shit without you? Because I fucking don't.”

“Not fucking asking you to,” Roy says, and it probably comes out more aggressive than he intended because Jamie was no longer tucked against his side. The footballer was on his feet, having wound himself up to pacing again. And Roy's chest always gets tight when Jamie does that shit. He needs Jamie to be okay. But he knows he probably said that wrong when Jamie glares at him.

“You didn't fucking have to,” Jamie retorts. And that's fair.

“Fucking hell,” Roy grumbles, attempting to sit up so he can better track Jamie's movement.

“Don’t do that,” Jamie grumbles as he moves back to help him. “Hurt yourself and your sister will boot me.”

“Then quit fucking pacing,” Roy tugs at Jamie's arm until he sits on the edge of the bed. Roy sighs, ignoring the ache in his ribs as he does.

“I'm not fucking dying, Tartt. Fucking doctors made sure of it.”

“Barely,” Jamie says.

“But they fucking did, and that's fucking that.”

Jamie scoffs but doesn't bother arguing. He was anxious and still thinking about how much worse things could have been, and how much could still go wrong.

“Look at me, Tartt,” Roy demands. Jamie does. “I know this is a fucking mess, but I will be fucking fine. You know why?” Jamie shrugs. “Because you lot won't stop until I am. You, my sister and Ted fucking Lasso, are all fucking determined. Throw in Keeley and that fucking team. I probably won't get a fucking quiet moment til I'm back at the dog track. So fucking do it.”

“Are you telling me to take care of you?” Jamie asks.

“Going to fucking do it anyway, yeah?”

“Of course,” Jamie nods. “What do you need me to do?”

“You're here, so things are already fucking better,” Roy states. That has warmth spreading through Jamie's chest because Roy has less filter than most, but it would appear he has even less now. And it's oddly sweet.

“Yeah, I'm here,” Jamie says as he shifts to prop his knee up on the bed and takes Roy's hand in his. The fact Roy seems to relax even more has Jamie smiling for what feels like the first time all day. “And you heard the gaffer, I'm not going anywhere. You're stuck with me.”

“Good, going to need help with the kid,” Roy says. “She is going to be impossible to get rid of.”

“Don't lie Kent, you love every second of it. You love that kid.”

“Not the only fucking one,” Roy states.

“That loves Phoebe? Of course not, she's adorable and-”

Roy squeezes his hand.

“That I love, you fucking muppet. Sometimes I wonder why but fucking hell, Tartt. I fucking love you.”

Jamie grins. “Fucking love you too, you prick.”

Roy tugs him until Jamie lays back down beside him. There is a knock at the door. Jamie goes to get up but Roy doesn't let him.

“Well aren't you two adorable,” Ted says as he and Phoebe come in.

“Fuck off, Lasso,” Roy grunts.

“Uncle Roy,” Phoebe starts.

“I know, kid,” Roy says.

“Your mum probably knows where his wallet is more than he does,” Jamie says.

“Could probably finally cash out that tab I've heard about,” Ted adds.

“Oi, don't give her fucking ideas.”

“That's two,” Ted states.

“Fucking hell,” Roy mutters, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back against the pillows.

“Three,” Phoebe giggles.

“I got you,” Jamie quietly tells Roy. Jamie grabs his wallet from his locker and tosses it to Phoebe. Phoebe gives him a look. “He's been through it, so I'll take the hit for him.” Jamie grins. Phoebe just shrugs and takes three quid from him.

“Now he owes you,” Phoebe says, setting his wallet on the table by his phone, which he had set aside to focus on Roy when he initially crawled into the bed.

Roy glares at him, but it doesn't bother the striker.

#tw: injury #tw: hospitalization #tw: hospitals #tw: hit by car #tw: crying #tw: cursing #tw: cussing #tw: fear #tw: anxiety #tw: medical procedures #tw: medical emergencies #tw: medical treatment #tw: medication #tw: mentions of death #ted lasso fic #royjamie #jamie x roy #roy x jamie #jamieroy

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xreaderbooks · 1 year

Text

The Shadows of Our Love |5|

Chapter 5 | In the Shadow of Truth

Pair: Sebastian Sallow x Reader, Platonic! Ominis x Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: Language, mentions of blood purity

Summary: Y/n and Ominis have a conversation

Playlist

Available on Wattpad and AO3

Chapter 4 - Series Masterlist - Navigation - Chapter 6

Multicolored puffskeins were at your feet, bouncing on your legs and vying for your attention, much like the rest of the beasts in the forest vivarium. You spent your Thursday afternoon in the Room of Requirement after a frustrating class on Ancient Runes, at this point, you didn't know why you had signed up for the bloody class. You overestimated your ability to pay attention, thinking that your slight interest in the subject would mean you would actually listen to the droning of the Professor.

The time you spent with your beasts as a form of procrastination was therapeutic, alas, your time was ending and you would have to do your homework for potions soon.

You fed and pet every single one of the exotic creatures to the point where you had feathers and fur all over you. It wasn't until Deek had emerged from the entrance to tell you that you had a letter, that you let out a heavy breath and decided to stop lingering.

With your final goodbyes to your adorable animals, you stepped through the portal back to the large room where the house elf handed you the letter.

Y/n,

Whenever you are available, I would like to study with you in the Undercroft. I will be skipping dinner waiting for your arrival.

Ominis

Interesting...

You and Ominis were on speaking terms, more than just classmates but not exactly besties on the level that he and Sebastian were on. It pleased you to know that he wanted to hang out, officially, that is.

The two of you had a bit of a rough start in the beginning, especially with the way you enabled Sebastian at times with his quest to save Anne, you wouldn't have and didn't blame him for his response to everything that went down so you were happy to refresh the page and start anew.

You changed into a different set of robes and sprayed yourself with your floral-scented perfume to hide the stench of the animals you spent half the day with.

~~~

"Knock knock," You voiced out into the secret room as the metal gates to the Undercroft shut with a clamber.

"Y/n?" Ominis said on a wooden desk he must have conjured since it wasn't there before.

"I must say I was quite surprised to receive your owl, Omi," You walked over to him and settled your writing tools for the essay you were going to force yourself to work on.

His eyes narrowed at the nickname.

"Right, that was weird," You cringed and slid into the seat across from him. "Sorry, wanted to try it out."

"Not your best, I must say," His lips quirked upward. "Shall we get started?"

"We shall," You unrolled the scroll of parchment and your advanced potions textbook. "What are you working on?"

"Practice test for Charms, Professor Ronen just assigned it today but I want to get it done as soon as possible, who knows when the man will spring up his practice quiz."

You were familiar with Professor Ronen and his spontaneity, always the one to make sure his students were actually paying attention in his class, he would give you a practice exam to review and give you all homework credit for it but it was also a warning for his pop quizzes he frequently liked to give.

"Oh! I have mine with me if you'd like to just copy off mine and study later?" You offered. You brought your satchel with all the books of assignments you have and have not completed.

Ominis appeared thoughtful and declined, "That's alright, I prefer to study the material given to me actually. It was kind of you to offer."

"Not at all," You smiled at the fact that you were getting to know little details like this about Ominis.

~~~

A full hour of work, the Undercroft echoed with the scribbles of your quills on parchment and the turning of textbook pages. Not at all as awkward as you thought it was going to be when you were heading over here.

The only times you would talk to Ominis were when you were both surrounded by people, in the Great Hall or in class, the both of you gravitated toward each other in a room full of classmates who hadn't been through the same experiences and grief- all thanks to Sebastian.

You thought that being alone with him without Sebastian's impending doom looming over the both of you, would be tense but it hasn't been.

Ominis worked on his assignment, while you worked on yours- 12 inches of parchment on Everlasting Elixirs. It was due next week Monday and you knew that you had to get started on it somehow if not, by the time you actually put the effort in, it would take you til the morning of the due date to finish.

That was stress you did not need when you were already worried about sodding Ancient Runes class.

"Is something the matter, Y/n?" Ominis broke the silence.

"W- Yes, I am." You were surprised by the question, "Do I not seem alright?"

"You're very quiet, well you are quiet but you're thinking so much, I can almost hear it." He chuckled lightly as he said it. "As a matter of fact, you've been quite pensive these past few weeks."

"Have I?"

"I'm blind Y/n, that does not mean that I do not notice such things." He sits up straighter, "Your other friends may not have seen it, that lot has always been more extroverted but so were you, last year. Not as much but still I can feel it when I'm around you, it's as if you're less enthused."

You rolled your eyes with a smile, he cared. It was a little bit of a shock to know that he did but it warmed your heart.

"I have a confession to make," He started.

"Do tell," You placed your elbows on the table and leaned in, curiously awaiting.

"You mustn't tell anyone," He says with a stern tone. "Not even Sebastian."

You snorted in an unladylike manner, "Done."

He inhales, and confesses, "I'm a legilimens."

Your face contorted in confusion, your silence gave it away before you had to ask what that was. You had only been a part of the Wizarding world for a school year, you didn't know much besides what you had encountered and learned about last year.

"It's a person who can read the thoughts of others, I can look into your mind and find your deepest memories, even read your thoughts at present if I wanted to."

"Are you trying to tell me that you read my mind?" You didn't know how you felt about that. "That's what all the concern is about."

"I- Well, no. I wasn't lying when I said I felt the way your energy has changed. It's not something I can control or practice often, though I should."

"Is it something that you learned or were you born with it?" Had he always been able to do that and just now said something because he heard something that drew him to be worried?

"Wizards and Witches can learn and master it but for me, it was a trait passed down from my ancestor, I choose not to use the ability," His voice was tight as he explained. "Your thoughts were loud, I didn't mean to intrude, I'm telling you this because I want to trust you. I want you to trust me as well. I know you and Sebastian are still not speaking-"

"I was wondering when you were going to bring him up," You sighed. "How is he, by the way? Since we're on the subject."

"He's Sebastian, complicated and stubborn" He answered. "This was never about him, point is, I've noticed over the course of a few weeks that you haven't been yourself and was wondering if there was anything I can do to assist."

You crossed your arms and leaned on the back of your chair, "While I appreciate the concern, I am quite alright, Ominis."

"You know, Sebastian and Anne have been a better family to me than my actual blood. They had no hate in their hearts, they held no judgment on me and the beliefs of my family." He cleared his throat, "I was gutted at what had happened to Anne and the path that Sebastian took to try and save her. That drove a wedge between him and me, as you've witnessed. Dark magic is not something I could ever resort to, you know this, ever. Not even for someone I consider a brother, so trust me when I say I meant no offense when I heard your thoughts."

"I know, Ominis," You said in a light tone to ease his mind. You weren't upset at him for accidentally reading your mind, it caught you off-guard and you were just grateful you weren't thinking something embarrassing.

"So your parents are racist," you joked to ease the tension. "To be expected with the whole Slytherin thing, pureblood supremacy and all that, obviously not your thing."

"A never-ending fight," He exhaled. "I never asked- not that it matters but where are you from?"

"I'm muggle-born," You shrugged. "I had shown signs of having some magical ability when I was a child but my parents were visibly uncomfortable whenever I showed signs so I just held it in, kind of trained myself to ignore the urges, and even went to a muggle primary and secondary school."

His eyebrows quirked at the information, how different the two of you are.

You continued, "It got to the point where I just couldn't hold it anymore and everything just burst out of me. At the worst time, might I add, in the middle of the class- everyone fell out of their desks. I was nervous for a presentation and everyone was overwhelming me with questions, With all the build-up from never being released, I just exploded. Freaked my parents out, by some miracle of fate, I heard a pair of wizards buzzing on about Hogwarts and so I wrote a letter to Professor Black and here I am."

Ominis blinked, processing the information, "Fate was right to bring you here. I'm not my parents but just be glad you're in Slytherin, that's the only prejudice I will take part in though you do spend a great amount of time with Gryffindors, I'm not so sure the sorting hat made the right choice."

You reach over the table and push his shoulder lightly, he laughed breathlessly in his seat.

"I'll have you know, a Gryffindor could never get out of the skirmishes I have, and that's all thanks to my cunning."

"Or sheer luck," He murmured.

You tossed your quill at his chest, "Oh, stuff it."

~~~

Chapter 6

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@vanivivs - @aqueennia

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fangirleaconmigo · 2 years

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Looking forward to the “Gerald plays it cool but secretly loves Jaskier’s singing” I can’t believe it’s not Fanon. That’s my favorite trope! :D Also who wouldn’t think Jaskier sounds amazing based on his Netflix voice at least!

Ask and ye shall receive!

I Can’t Believe it’s Not Fanon

Facts that sound like Geraskier fic writers made them up, but are in fact, book canon.

Geralt plays it cool, but he secretly thinks Jaskier has a beautiful voice.

We know Dandelion is famous and renowned. But singers aren’t always necessarily famous because they have the most beautiful voices. They can have decent voices and just be good entertainers, very attractive, have catchy songs, etc. But we actually know that Dandelion’s voice is enchanting. In fact, it is so beautiful, it has saved his life multiple times.

One time, it soothes a werewolf.

Right before dawn, while it was still dark, a hungry, vicious werewolf crept up to their camp, but saw that it was Dandelion, so he listened for a moment, then went on his way.

The Sword of Destiny pg 246

Another time, it keeps the dryads from killing him. The dryads, who kill any man on sight without mercy, spare his life because as soon as he is in arrow shot, he sits down and sings. Instead of killing him, a group of dryads emerge and listen to him sing. Then they demand that he sing more.

Geralt however, won’t openly express admiration of his voice. When he finds Dandelion serenading the dryads he says:

“Dandelion.”

“Geralt!”

“Yes, it’s me. You can stop that racket now.”

But later, we see that he knows which ballads are Dandelion’s and which belong to other people. So we know he pays attention.

“The concert you gave was clearly to their liking. Now you’re ard táedh, “the great bard.” They’re waiting for the next part of ‘The Flower of Ettariel’. Do you know the rest? It’s not your ballad, after all.”

Time of Contempt, p210-212

In Season of Storms, Geralt also stubbornly refuses to express admiration for Dandelion’s voice. It’s a hilarious passage.

“You know, you've never congratulated me on my ballads," Dandelion suddenly spoke up. "I've composed and sung so many of them in your company. But you've never said: That was nice, I'd like you to play that again. You've never said that."

"You're right I haven't. Do you want to know why?"

"Yes."

"Because I've never wanted to"

"Would it be such a sacrifice?" asked the bard, not giving up. "Such a hardship? To say: Play that again, Dandelion. Play As Time Passes."

“Play it again, Dandelion. Play As Time Passes."

"You said that quite without conviction."

"So what? You'll play it anyway."

"You'd better believe it."

--Season of Storms, pg 351

However, despite Geralt’s protests (honestly he probably just thinks that Dandelion has a big enough ego already lol), the narrator tells on him.

In Sword of Destiny, Geralt is listening to Dandelion and Essi sing and the narrator tells us how he really feels.

"Geralt lay on a makeshift bed of spruce branches with his hands under his head and thought he had never heard such beautiful voices or such beautiful ballads.

--Sword of Destiny, pg 245

So there you have it. Canon confirmation that Geralt thinks Dandelion has one of the most beautiful voices he has ever heard.

And I like to think that Dandelion’s music is one way he makes Geralt’s life that much better.

In stories set in medieval times with no tv, movies, or recorded music, storytellers and troubadours are luxuries.

So Dandelion is a luxury that Geralt can afford because Dandelion just needs some love and the odd adventure, and Geralt has plenty of both of those things.

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #i can’t believe it’s not fanon #canon or fanon

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luvvyouforever · 4 months

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Hi! I found ur writing recently and I just really love it. I was wondering if I could request a nymphadora tonks x reader fic where they hang out together in the order. Idc where it goes from there I trust you! If you decide to use this prompt then thank you sm!! 🫶🏻

pillows, sleep, and sirius black yelling - nymphadora tonks x reader <3

↳ she doesn't want to get out of bed. and neither do you. but the order calls and you have to answer.

↳ just some sweet fluff and cuddling! i hope you like this i made it nice and sweet <3

getting up seems like the most horrible thing that could ever happen to a person right about now. the pillows are at the perfect level of broken in, the blankets are far too warm to leave the comfort of, and your girlfriend looks too adorable while curled into your side. you're right. getting up is the most horrible thing that could ever happen to a person right now.

you want to do nothing more but cuddle closer into her and to kiss her cheeks and head but unfortunately, the order scheduled an early emergency meeting and you have to get up. you have to and there's no getting around it. in fact, you can feel the tell tale shifting of the house to allow the members to enter the house.

"dora, baby," you whisper. she makes no reaction to let you know that she's even conscious. "we gotta get up, sweet girl." you nudge her gently and suddenly, she starts coming to life. her limbs move slowly and like a baby being born, her eyes blink open. with a groan, she stretches impossibly long and then shrinks back to her normal size.

"don't wanna get up," she mumbles. her arms wrap tightly around your middle and she buries her head into your chest. it's an adorable sight, one that crushes your heart, but you know that if you're not up soon, then sirius would come and find you. angrily so.

"i don't either, baby, but we gotta. dumbledore doesn't remember that most of us don't rise earlier than ten."

"ughhhhh," she groans. her head falls back and her eyes meet yours. there's a sweetness to them that entirely contradicts the frustration in her voice. "a few more minutes?" it's a whisper that you barely heard but you nod your head and hold her back tightly.

of course, the world is entirely against you at every moment of every day and you and nymphadora slept right until the very moment the meeting was supposed to start.

loud banging on your guest bedroom door woke you up with the most sudden, violent start. "y/n! nymphadora! get up!" it was sirius. of course it was. the two of you jumped, dora yelling a string of swear words as throws on some clothes she found in the duffel bag she packed. they don't entirely match but with a quick burst of magic, her hair changes colors and somehow brings it all together.

you, on the other hand, are much less coordinated. you have on a patterned pair of pants that do not much the colors in your top but it doesn't matter. the order was waiting on you down below and you would already be embarrassed entering the dining room.

"you're too comfy," dora said as she poked your side in the bathroom where you tried to make yourself look more presentable.

"shall i ingest a stone skin potion every night so you don't feel tempted to curl into me like a little cat?" you joked.

she smiled and shook her head. "absolutely not. wouldn't change a thing about you, doll."

your cheeks flare red and you leave the bathroom, and then the bedroom with dora a step behind you. the members of the order chuckled when you entered the dining room, eyes still clearly full of sleep. you held your head down and took a seat across from remus with dora at your side.

"long night?" he whispered before taking a sip of the coffee he had made for everyone. silently, he poured you a mug and you sweetened it to dora's liking so you could share.

at the head of the table, dumbledore began speaking about some important matters regarding safely transporting harry to the home and updating everyone on the information he had about voldemort. his bleak words were a stark difference to dora's warm hand tracing shapes on your leg.

you turned your head to look at her and she smiled when your eyes met. the look between you to said something like "when this meeting is over, we're going back to bed and cuddling until night time." you couldn't wait.

#fanfic #fluff #harry potter #harry potter x reader #nymphadora tonks #nymphadora #nymphadora x reader #nymphadora tonks x reader #harry potter fluff

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nightingaelic · 1 year

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How about fallout 4 companions reacting to sole who is a young teen but they never knew until they took off their mask?

The metropolitan ruins of the Commonwealth had one advantage that the wider wasteland didn't have - plenty of places to hide. It was sometimes safer for travelers to duck between the urban canyons of the bygone world, pick their way through its shadowy rubble on the way to caps or glory, squeeze between crumbling walls when danger pursued them. It was commonplace to say "the ruins swallowed them" when someone on a trip went missing, and "Boston spat them out again" if and when they finally emerged.

The sole survivor was damn good at this. In fact, they were nearly as much of a phantom as the Silver Shroud, appearing at the strangest times in the most unlikely places, and disappearing again just as fast. Some Goodneighbor ghouls even took to calling them the Shroud, whenever they stalked into town like a feral cat. It didn't do them any favors that they always wore a hood over a gas mask, jumped at sudden noises and refused to let anyone close to them. It earned them odd looks, and glances of curiosity, exasperation, and sympathy for those they shared their road with.

Their companion had assumed some of this was normal vault dweller behavior, as many vault dwellers were ill at ease without a roof over their heads, but things fell into place one hot day in the summer. The shoreline was sweltering under the sun, stinking of algae and flotsam, and finally even the sole survivor had had enough. They threw their hood back, unbuckled their gas mask, and emerged the picture of tragic youth: Tired eyes in a full face, blinking in the unfamiliar harshness of the light.

They caught sight of their companion's realization and lifted their chin up. "Don't start," they said.

Cait: "Oh, hell." Cait sucked a breath in through her teeth. "You'd better start explaining some things fast, little chicken."

"No idea what you're talking about, Cait."

They tried to keep walking, but Cait grabbed their shoulder and spun them around. "You waltzed into the Combat Zone all by yourself? Took on my contract, thought you'd just tell a grown woman what to do with her time?"

"I did in all the raiders, didn't I?" The sole survivor shook her off. "And taking on your contract wasn't my idea. Tommy couldn't wait to get rid of you."

"Why, you little..." Cait balled her hands into fists. "Don't make this about me. You think you're a big shot, walking around the Commonwealth like you own the place? I'm taking you back to Goodneighbor, and then you and I are through."

"And you'll go back to the Combat Zone? Please." The sole survivor put their hands on their hips. "You'll get bored, and then you'll come looking for me again. I guarantee it."

Codsworth: Codsworth tapped his claw and flamer arms together anxiously. "Are you sure it's safe? I know this beach looks deserted, but you never know just who might turn up."

"Relax, Codsworth," the sole survivor replied. "I'll put it back on if we see anyone. It's just too hot to keep it on for the whole day."

"I shall keep an eye out." Codsworth rotated two of his eye stalks around to cover all directions. "Do you recognize this beach? I believe we visited it before the bombs fell, once or twice."

"It's changed." The sole survivor stooped down to pick up an empty mussel shell. "More junk, obviously, but it's wilder than it used to be. Like the ocean's reclaiming it. I wonder if anything valuable ever washes up."

"Perhaps we can ask Sturges to build you a metal detector," Codsworth suggested.

"Maybe." The sole survivor smiled at the bot. "Or maybe he can show me how to build one, myself."

"A fine idea."

Curie: Curie gasped. "Quoi!? You never said you were so young."

"On purpose," the sole survivor grumbled.

"This is nothing to conceal." Curie took their face in their hands. "I... I suppose I can understand why you have done this, but you shouldn't hide such things from me. I thought we took care of each other."

"We do!" The sole survivor gently pried themselves away. "That wasn't what I was worried might change. It was the how of it. People... people get protective of me, and they don't need to be."

"Mon chou." Curie smiled down at them. "Of course they are. You are still small, and in this world, this is a rare thing."

"Well, that doesn't matter." The sole survivor unshouldered their pack and sank down to sit in the sand. "Everything that happened to me in the vault still happened."

Curie sat down next to them. "Yes. Je suis - I am sorry. What you have been through is too much."

Paladin Danse: "How-" Danse shook his head. "You... impossible."

"No, it's really me." The sole survivor sighed. "Here we go."

Danse started in. "Why didn't you disclose this at our first encounter? Why were you drawn into a fight with ferals in the first place? How did you manage to conceal this from Scribe Haylen, when she checked you over?"

"I didn't know who you were, I was hoping to get some supplies out of the ordeal, and I told her I had stunted growth thanks to being frozen and malnourished," the sole survivor counted off on their fingers. "What else?"

Danse's eyes blazed. "Was any of it true? The vault, the Minutemen, your search for the Institute?"

"Yep, all of that's true." They met his gaze and frowned. "Unfortunately."

The Paladin's anger and suspicion abated somewhat. "I... that's... my apologies. I thought you and I had an understanding, when it came to being forthcoming. I was honest with you."

"You were, and we do." The sole survivor tapped their fingers once more before letting their hands fall to their sides. "I thought you might refuse to talk to me again, if you ever found out. So I didn't say anything."

The answer caught Danse by surprise, and he chuckled. "Why would you ever think that, soldier?"

Deacon: Deacon shut his gaping mouth and pressed his lips together tightly.

"That's right," the sole survivor said, their voice smug.

They continued down the beach a ways together, and pretty soon Deacon's silence began to bother the sole survivor. They kept glancing over at him, like they expected him to start spouting his opinions at any second. Finally, they drew up short by a rickety dock and got directly in his way. "Say something," they demanded.

"There is literally nothing I can say that will top you revealing yourself as a teenager," Deacon replied. "Seriously, my hat's off to you. I wish I'd thought of that, first."

Dogmeat: Dogmeat gave them a hesitant whine, so the sole survivor stuck their hand out. The German shepherd sniffed it over carefully before deciding they were still the person he had attached himself to at the Red Rocket Station, and he came away with his tongue lolling.

"Good dog," the sole survivor praised. "I know I never take it off, but I think we're safe here. Let's keep going."

Mayor John Hancock: Hancock blinked, and then kept blinking. "Did I get a bad batch?" he muttered, partially to himself. "You look like you're aging backwards."

"I promise I'm aging in the same direction as everyone else," the sole survivor assured him. "And technically I'm 220-some years old, so I've got you beat for sure."

"Oh, that can't be right." Hancock squinted and walked a little circle around them. "You're just a kid. Huh."

"Problem?"

"No. Maybe." Hancock sighed and took his hat off to scratch his head. "We get younger than you out and about on their lonesome in Goodneighbor sometimes, but that doesn't mean the wasteland's a kind place to them. My miscreant half is telling me you'll be fine, but my responsible mayoral half is saying we should go back."

The sole survivor crossed their arms. "And what about your fun half?"

Hancock grinned and plopped his hat on their head. "That half's just impressed. You're a real survivor, kid."

Robert Joseph MacCready: "Oh, I'm gonna start." MacCready tipped his hat back and rubbed his face. "You can't be older than what, 12? 13? What are you doing running around without someone to keep an eye on you?"

"You're here, aren't you?"

"You hired me." MacCready felt around his pockets for his caps. "You hired... how the hell did you scrape together 250 caps?"

"Does it matter? I paid your fee, you're here now." The sole survivor scowled. "The job doesn't change just because I'm younger than you thought I was."

"Yes it does," MacCready argued. "Not only are you a vault dweller, you're a kid who doesn't know what they're doing even without factoring in everything that's trying to kill you on the road. Trust me, I grew up in that life. And don't even get me started about how stubborn kids are in thinking they know everything."

"I know I don't know everything, that's why I hired you!" The sole survivor threw their hands up in exasperation. "It was either keep wandering around alone, or hire someone who knows how this world works. Why are you acting like I'm crazy?"

"You're 13. Every 13-year-old is a little crazy." MacCready pinched the bridge of his nose. "I can't believe this. Hancock and Daisy are never gonna let me live this one down."

Nick Valentine: "Aw, kid." Nick's eyes dimmed slightly, his telltale sign of mournful contemplation. "You're the saddest thing I've ever seen."

"That's a huge compliment coming from you," the sole survivor retorted, smirking halfheartedly. "Gonna try to take me back to the office?"

Nick surveyed the beach. "Eventually, maybe. Right now we're okay. If a mirelurk queen pops up though, you and I are gone."

"Well that's a given." The sole survivor's smile widened a little. "You never realized?"

"You spun me quite the story when you came asking for help," Nick replied. "Masterful misdirection. Now that I think of it though, Ellie mentioned something about how you seemed more naive than the average vault dweller. I really should give her a raise."

"You should." The sole survivor sighed. "Come on. I'll tell you the whole story while we're waiting for that mirelurk queen to notice us, if you want to hear it."

Nick offered them his hand. The sole survivor studied the detective for a moment before taking it. "Well hop to it," the old synth said with a smile. "I'm on tenterhooks."

Piper Wright: "You can't be any older than Nat," Piper breathed. "How did... never mind. We're heading back to Diamond City, now."

"No we are not." The sole survivor planted their feet in the sand. "I have things to do up the coast, and I'm not going back until they're done. You can go if you want, but I won't be going with you."

"Oh yes you will be." Piper seized their wrist and held it up. "I'm already responsible for one preteen, and the only way I get any sleep is if I know she's safe inside the Wall. I don't need your sudden death to mirelurks on my conscience, Blue."

The sole survivor twisted their arm loose and took a few steps back. "So don't let the mirelurks get me."

Piper lunged to grab them, but they darted around her arms and took off down the beach. "Get back here!" the reporter yelled, taking off after them.

Preston Garvey: Preston's eyes had gone as wide as the brim of his hat. "I made you the general," he blurted out.

"You did." The sole survivor shook their head. "I told you not to."

"But you didn't tell me why!" Preston put his hands up, overwhelmed. He turned back and forth on the sand, unsure of where to start. "The Abernathy farm, Tenpines, the Corvega factory... Christ, the deathclaw at the museum... how?!?"

The sole survivor looked just as bewildered as him. "Luck?"

"This can't be happening." Preston ran a hand over his face. "I've got... I've got to tell... wait, does Sturges know? Does anyone - does Mama Murphy know? Because if they knew and didn't tell me, we're gonna have a big problem."

"Breathe," the sole survivor advised him. "Are you mad at me?"

"No - yes - I don't know!" Preston hit the sand with a thump and wracked his brains. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Well at first I was scared." The sole survivor sat down next to him. "And then I worried it would send you into a crisis, like the one you're in the middle of. But this had to happen at some point."

Strong: Strong snorted. "Puny human."

"Hey." The sole survivor pointed up at him with a stern look. "I said don't start, and I meant it."

"Tiny!" Strong roared with laughter, holding his belly. "Too little. Need to drink milk."

The sole survivor rolled their eyes. "Yeah, that's what Preston said, too. Good for my bones, or something."

X6-88: "You appear to be of an insufficient age to be traveling the wasteland alone," X6-88 replied.

"But I'm not traveling alone, I'm with you."

"I am a relatively recent addition." X6-88 placed a hand on their shoulder. "Standby for relay."

"No!" The sole survivor ducked out of his grip and stood their ground breathlessly. "You have to do what I tell you to, right? Don't take me back down there. Something's off about that place."

"My mission is to protect you," X6-88 said. "Institute protocol states that children are not permitted to leave the facility until they are of a certain age. You do not appear to meet the requirements, and therefore my mission necessitates our return."

The sole survivor took off running, meandering a bit in the wet sand. X6-88 gave pursuit, easily outpacing them despite the heat. He locked an arm around their waist and ignored their struggling while he tried to call in the relay request again.

"Stop!" the sole survivor shrieked. "I'm not safe down there, X6-88!"

The Courser paused his communication attempt. "Explain."

BONUS!

Ada: "I was just thinking it was a wise decision to cover your face," Ada replied. "Not everyone you meet in the wasteland can be trusted."

"R... right." The sole survivor hung the gas mask from their belt and nodded. "You live and die by first impressions, out here. Especially if you're my age."

"May I ask why you concealed your age from me?" Ada inquired. "We are relatively recent partners, but our mission to find the Mechanist and help the Commonwealth is still the same."

"I don't know. Adults get weird around me." The sole survivor shrugged. "I guess I view you as an adult, thanks to your voice module. How old are you, Ada?"

"That question does not have a simple answer." Ada indicated her frame's various parts. "My components are largely from pre-war robots, but the fastenings and hardware holding me together are varied. I was assembled in my current form about seven years ago, but I have gone through a few upgrades since."

The sole survivor giggled. "So in one way, you're as old as me, maybe even older, but in another, I'm older than you. I like that."

Porter Gage: Gage swallowed his surprise and raised an eyebrow at them. "Didn't say nothing, Overboss."

"But you're thinking it." The sole survivor rounded on him. "I'm small, but I'm dangerous. The gangs all know it. You know it."

"Sure," Gage agreed. Internally, his mind raced. Did any of the gang leaders know? Had Colter known? How the hell was he going to salvage this?

"There it is." The sole survivor shoved their weapon up against his chest. "Second thoughts, Gage?"

"Well can you blame me?" Gage shot back. "Here I am, thinking I've finally got someone with their head on straight who's still scary enough to keep Nuka-World in line, and you're not even tall enough to ride some of the rollercoasters in the park. What do you want me to think, huh?"

The sole survivor pushed him back a step. "I survived the Gauntlet, the Galactic Zone, and the fucking Safari Adventure. Think about that before you start panicking, bloodworm."

Old Longfellow: "Frolicking fog crawlers." Longfellow spat out the drink of water he'd just taken and re-screwed the top on his canteen. "You're just a kid."

"And?" The sole survivor crossed their arms. "I can still out-shoot you, grandpa."

"Cannot. Look, you've got arms skinnier than bloodbug's."

They stuck their tongue out at him. "At least I don't need to be half a bottle deep in bourbon just to get out of bed in the fucking morning."

"You watch your mouth," Longfellow warned them, wagging his finger. "Didn't anyone teach you to respect your elders?"

"Sure, but you need to be respectable, first."

Longfellow roared with laughter and clapped them on the shoulder. "Not bad, kid. Not bad. You're alright. Course, we can't go looking for Shipbreaker until you grow another foot or two. Come on, let's go."

The sole survivor ducked out of his grasp and shook their head. "Uh-uh. You promised me shrimp for dinner, and I'm not going back to Far Harbor without one."

Elder Arthur Maxson: Maxson stared at them, dismay and fury building in his chest. They had deceived him, deceived Paladin Danse, deceived all of the officers and put themselves and his soldiers in harm's way. Brotherhood law dictated that a betrayal of this magnitude warranted punishment. At the very least, a stripping of rank and removal of duties.

The sole survivor stared back at him, defiant. "Well?"

Suddenly, Maxson was looking at himself. A child thrust into an unwanted role, set upon enemy troops and deathclaws and super mutants well before they were ready to do so. He loosened his fists, took a few deep breaths, and wondered if Elder Owyn Lyons or his daughter Sarah had looked at him in the same way.

"At ease," he murmured, taking a step back. "It appears... we have things to discuss, Knight."

Desdemona: Desdemona looked them over with the air of a disappointed manager. "I didn't say anything."

"You're going to." The sole survivor put their hood back up and scowled. "Something about not accepting agents unless they're at least 16."

"At least 17."

"Whatever." The sole survivor dug their boot into the sand and unearthed a piece of driftwood. "What does it matter? We have the same enemies. I'm going after them whether I'm in the Railroad or not."

Desdemona said nothing. She didn't doubt their words - plenty of people sought revenge on the Institute without the Railroad's help - but she couldn't help but recall the laundry list of missions she'd sent them on since they had tracked her down. Raider dens, known synth reconnaissance locations, even a deathclaw nest. Something in her chest clenched tight, and she closed her eyes.

"Tell me the truth," she said, trying to shut out the sound of the ocean surf so she could focus on them. "If you take away the years in cryo, how old are you?"

The answer took a few moments. "I'm 15," the sole survivor insisted. "Almost. In about a month."

Desdemona frowned, then shook her head. "We're going back to HQ. You can make your case to the rest of the agents there."

"Make my-?"

"You're too young to be working with us at all, but you know too much now not to be involved." Desdemona turned away. "I can't make this kind of decision by myself. Let's go."

#fallout #fallout 4 #fo4 #companions react #12 days of ficmas

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