#cod lance

Or Lance pulling Christoph on a wagon

Here ya go

Lance IraXOC Jealousy Fic Part 2/2

I just want them to make babies. I am probably going to do a spicy epilogue thing for this, to finish it off (lol), but in a separate post so minors and people who don’t want to see that kind of debauchery don’t have to. But otherwise: 

CW: suggestive themes, cuss words.

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Gritting his teeth, Lance watched as every other man approached Wyn and struck up conversation with her. To dig the knife even deeper, it looked like she was actually trying to engage with them. She was smiling at them. Wynifred Brahm. His Wyn. Smiling for people. He had rather thought that that was a privilege reserved only for himself, as she never looked happy talking to anyone.

Lance let out a frustrated grunt. He was kicking himself for being so harsh with her, but he didn’t know how else to say that he was distraught by the idea of her performing for another man. Why did she need to perform anyway? Anyone who didn’t want her as she was, was a fool.

“Oy. I thought I told you to be a gentleman,” Hawke leaned against the wall next to Lance, drink in hand. “What was that rubbish? She looked near tears.”  

“I lost my head for a moment,” Lance said, sheepishly, but he didn’t retort. Hawke snorted.

“If you’re so adverse to someone else being her focus, why aren’t you doing something about it?”

Before he could reply, Lance watched as Invidia politely cut his way through the crowd, and made a b-line for Wynifred. He felt his stomach drop. Was it Invidia she was trying to impress? He was a lot gentler, and better than Lance was with words. On more than one occasion, they had cracked jokes together about the insufferable formality of the S-ranks. He supposed she could have been putting on a front, but…

Lance held his breath as Invidia bowed before her and offered his hand for a dance. Wyn’s eyes widened in surprise, and then she froze, looking thoughtful at his invitation. For a moment, it looked as though she was going to refuse. Her eyes scanned the room, and when they found Lance, he abruptly turned away, in attempt to hide his unrest and discontent.

Beside him, Hawke sighed disappointedly.

“And around you two go,” he said.

The music swelled, and when Lance turned his head back to find Wyn in the crowd once more, she was already being whisked to the dance floor.

***

What was she doing?

Fenn had convinced her to play along with his little game, of trying to make Lance notice her through the attention of others. It was petty, childish, and she knew it.

But Wyn was hurt by his Lance’s rejection, and she had no other plan. She didn’t want to run back to her chambers, crying and Sherry and Violet had gone out of their way to help her pick out her dress, and she wasn’t going to let it go to waste. So, she could play pretend. For a little while, at least.

Boys were talking to her, without that wary look in their eyes they usually had. She tried to listen to what they were saying, laugh at the correct times, and offer responses that weren’t soaked in sarcasm, even though she felt ridiculous. When Invidia had offered his hand for a dance, she had froze. The S-ranks, aside from their lectures, hadn’t bothered with her much, not that she minded.  Now, whispers gathered around her, and the pressure of the eyes on her felt immense.

Wyn looked for Lance, eyes pleading to please interrupt, to take her hand and drag her out of there, and stop the game. But when she found him, he frowned, and turned his head away quickly, as though he couldn’t stand the sight of her.

Now, angry, and with a tender heart, she heartily agreed to the dance.

“Just keep pushing, little by little, Opal,” Fenn had told her. “He’ll come to his senses, eventually.”

I don’t see that happening, she thought, but offered her warmest smile to the pink haired prince, who gingerly took her by the waist. They moved slow and fluid with the music, and Wyn followed his steps with ease.

“I must admit, you are a much better dancer than one would expect,” Roy  said. Wyn snorted.

“It’s not very difficult,” she said. When there was no immediate response, she grimaced. “Sorry. That sounded very rude. I didn’t mean…”

She stopped when she saw that he was chuckling and smiling at her.

“Not at all,” he assured her. “I’m coming to learn a great number of things about you are only…unexpected. It’s refreshing. It must be why you and Master Ira pair so well.”

“Oh,” Wyn struggled to find the words. “We’re not…We never…”

“Oh?” Roy said. “It seems I have misread the nature of your relationship. Although, I can’t say I am disappointed.”

Wyn smiled but she felt her heart speed up. What was she doing? Was Invidia flirting with her? She was nervous, and completely out of her element.

The music flourished to an end, and she thanked the Creator, although too soon. Just as she was curtsying, and about to make an excuse to leave and be done with the whole night, Fenn came into view, a broad smile on his face.

“May I have the next dance, Opal?” He asked with a wink and draped himself over her shoulders. She looked at him, oddly, not knowing what he was up to exactly, when Roy took her hand, again.

“I’m afraid I was going to ask her to join me for a drink in the garden,” he said, smiling, but there was a chill around his words.

“I was going to ask if Wynifred wanted to nap with me,” Lynt had quietly, appeared from behind them, yawning.

“She came to dance, clearly, not be absconded,” now Qelsum was admonishing them. “And I will be taking next dance.”

“And monopolize her time? How like you, Qelsum,” Avari’s voice made Wyn’s head spin. Every S-rank was here, arguing for her attention and all she could think about was how badly playing Fenn’s game had backfired. As they argued amongst themselves, Fenn whispered in her ear.

“Look at how they fight for you. Are you certain you want Lance,” he tucked one of her loose strands behind her ear, tenderly, before continuing in a low voice. “Are you sure you don’t want one of us?”

Wyn wanted to slap him. How could she have been so foolish as to go along with one of Fenn’s games when it was clear he was only “helping” for his own amusement.

“Let Wynifred choose,” Roy said, still holding her hand. “And whoever she chooses, we must honor her decision.”

The tension heightened, Wyn’s head swiveled looking at the faces of all the S-ranks. Did it matter who she chose? None of them were Lance. But she had kept up the game and appearance thus far. She might as well keep on, playing like she did not care when her heart was sinking in her chest. And they were waiting expectantly.

“I choose…” she began.

“None of you poncy nonces.”

In a swift motion, Roy’s hold on her hand was broken, and Fenn was lifted off her to be replaced by a heavy, warm material. Wyn lifted her head at the sound of Lance’s voice and saw him glaring holes into the S-ranks. He covered her in his jacket, put his arm over her, and ripped her from the center.

She was being whisked away, roughly, as Fenn called after them.

“Do take more care of Opal, next time!”

***

“What do you think you’re doing?” Wyn asked, finally pulling herself from his grip once they were away, alone, in the halls. She was relieved that she was saved from the situation, and happy that he had finally acknowledged her, but he had been acting foul all night. And she wasn’t in a particular good mood, herself,  after all of the posturing.

“I should be asking you more of the same,” Lance growled. “What were you doing?”

“I was socializing, you should try it sometime,” she retorted.

“You don’t even like these sorts of things,” he said, stepping closer to her. “Was this all to impress some S-rank? A bit pitiful, isn’t it?”

“I wasn’t doing this for any of the S-ranks, you arse,” she said, trying to mask the threat of tears ripping from her throat. “And you’ve properly ruined my night, so let me just go to my room.”

Lance stood in front of her and placed his hands on either shoulder, tilting his head to see better into her face.

“Why are you crying?”

“I’m not,” she said, turning her face every which way so he couldn’t see her tears.

“Yes, you are. Is this about what I said before, about the costume?” Lance felt the guilt in his gut, again. “I…am sorry for that. But I truly don’t see how it matters, so long as it caught the attention of whatever bloke—”

“Creators, Lance!” Wyn was crying in earnest now, and she pushed him off, rushing past him.

“What do you want me to say?” He called after her, defeated.

Wynifred whirled around and angrily began to rip off her jewelry, piece by piece, and throw them at Lance.

“I want you,” she said, through sobs. “I bought this stupid dress, and this jewelry and fussed about my hair because I wanted you to notice.”

When she was done with her jewelry, she tore the tie from her hair, and let it fall, messily, down her back. She then took off the jacket still cloaked around her shoulders and tossed it at his feet. They stared at each other in deafening silence, as Lance tried to grasp the situation.

“Why?” He finally asked. Wyn laughed, wryly.

“Because I love you,” she choked. “And I have for some time. And I thought this… “costume” was going to make you think of me as more than a friend. And I wanted to tell you, tonight. And I wanted to make you jealous. And I wanted to bring you back to my chambers and…” Wyn swallowed hard and grimaced. “I love you. But I see that you don’t care, and you don’t see me that way, and I am going back to my room to try and forget I made a fool of myself like this—”

She was interrupted as Lance moved like lightning, shifting her backwards into the wall. His hands were placed on either side of her head, and his face was inches from hers.

His expression was smoldering, and his pupils large, and they darted back and forth between her mouth and her eyes.

“What are you doing,” Wyn asked again, quietly.

“Telling my best friend I’m in love with her,” he said in a low voice. “And that I’m sorry I’ve been such an idiot.”

He pressed his lips to hers, smothering the sound of her gasp. Both of his hands made their way from her lower back, slowly traveling up, until one was in her hair, and the other cupping her neck, gently. The kiss was tender at first, and then hungry, as Wynn eagerly took his tongue in her mouth and began to suck.

It was then frenzied, all hands, and teeth, and tongue, and gentle gasps and soft moans against each other’s necks. Desire flooded their thoughts, and it wasn’t until they heard a cough from behind them that they pulled apart.

Hawke leaned against the wall, eyeing them both, partially with amusement, and partially exasperated.

“Hate to interrupt,” Hawke said. “I had heard shouting and came to see if everything was alright. Turns out it is very alright.”

“What do you want, or are you just being a nuisance,” Lance barked. Hawke raised an eyebrow.

“You two are in the middle of the halls,” he said. “And the ball is ending. I only thought to give you ample warning to move your…uh…discussion elsewhere.”

Lance, understanding, nodded, and turned to Wyn who was flushed pink and still trying to catch her breath.

“I did say I wanted to go back to my chambers,” she said. Lance’s eyes widened and he blushed.

“Sorry…I’ll walk you to your chambers,” he said, apologetically. Wyn cupped his cheek and looked into his eyes, earnestly.

“I want you to come with me,” she whispered.

This time, he turned his head away to hide the red in his cheeks.

“…let’s go, then.”

***

Lance had been inside Wyn’s chambers countless times. He’d come to wait for her on multiple occasions, or just to keep her company while she read one strange tomb or another. But this was different.

She looked nervous, as she sat on her canopy bed, and removed her heels. When she saw Lance watching her from the door and she blushed.

“Don’t be weird about it, just come in,” she said.

“You’re the one acting strange, now,” he teased. She looked adorable and much more like herself now. Lance sat next to her, and tucked her hair behind her ear, as Fenn had done earlier in the night. His expression darkened.

“What’s the matter now,” Wyn said, and fell back on her bed. Her hair splayed out, and though her voice was teasing, her eyes were gentle as they searched Lance’s face.

“I think about their hands on you, touching you,” he said. “When I saw all of them fawning over you, I went a bit mad, I suppose.”

“Lance—” Wyn started, but he shook his head.

“Don’t. It was my fault for being a nonce. You deserved better. But just the thought of you being with another man—”

“Don’t,” Wyn said, and yanked him by his collar backwards, so they met face to face on the mattress.

“We made quite a mess of it, didn’t we?” Lance said, and they both fell into a fit of laughter.

“So does this mean you like the dress, after all?” Wyn asked.

Lance rolled over, on top of her, and pressed his forehead to hers.

“Thought my heart had stopped when I’d seen you,” he murmured.

Wyn couldn’t repress her smile and seeing this, Lance pinned her wrists above her head. He pressed open mouth kisses to her neck, and she gasped sharply, writhing underneath him.

“Playing a bit dirty,” she breathed. He licked another slow stripe on her neck and spoke in a husky voice in her ear.

Lance and his Mc are evenly matched! even in bed

Lance Mischief ending.

Action, drama, romance, passion, Lance consort path had it all! And I forgot to mention angst...I'm so so in love with Lance even more than before now! he's cocky, smexy, but sweet too and didn't I say he's a grump and he's awkward?