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#AS WOMEN we are instructed to wait to find a SAFE PLACE to pull over!
butler-trouble · 2 years
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thank you sm for answering my question, my request is like 68 elvis presley x male reader headcanons where reader is just elvis awakening yk gay or bi, that’s normally the first thing i think abt when i fall for a straight character so i would love to request that!!
THANK YOU AGAIN
Bi/Gay!Elvis Presley Headcanons
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Note: Thank you for the request, I really enjoyed this idea! I hope you enjoy, I had fun coming up with it. Also, can we please talk about the gif because 😩
Warning: Bi/gay awakenings that are too cute, the slightest sexual reference, not really nsfw but 18+ just to be safe
══════*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*══════
⦿ You are in the audience at Elvis' 68 comeback special with your friend Penelope, within arms reach of him. You've had a major crush on Elvis since his stardom.
⦿ When Elvis sits in a chair onstage, strumming his guitar to Are You Lonesome Tonight, you catch his eye which delays his entry to the song.
⦿ You assume his entranced gaze was towards a female in the audience, typical Elvis, you thought to yourself.
⦿ Elvis had never felt that way about another man before. Something about the way you look at him, a seeming innocence in your eyes with a hint of excitement, stirs feelings in him that he's only ever felt for women before.
⦿ A few lines into the song, Elvis continues to play the tune on his guitar while speaking into the mic. "Some pretty faces out there," Elvis winked in your direction, making your cheeks flush red while the girls surrounding you going wild.
⦿ On the next, more upbeat song, Elvis finds himself struggling to peel his eyes off you. Dancing around, and body heat from the room, caused sweat to build up on you, making wild thoughts rack Elvis' mind. There is no way I can get through this with him looking at me like that, he thought.
⦿ Elvis himself began to drop beads of sweat, singing and playing guitar with his soul, leaning his head back to break eye contact with you to avoid an obvious situation in his leather pants.
⦿ He manages through most of the show, making eye contact with you every once in a while. Penelope playfully smacked your arm in jealousy but ultimately freaked out with you, basking in that Elvis actually flirted with you on stage.
⦿ Elvis finds it hard to stop thinking about you and ends up ranting to Steve Binder about everything, finally admitting aloud that he's attracted to a man. Luckily, Binder has a nephew who is gay, so he knows how to handle the situation. Binder talks with Elvis about accepting himself regardless of what others believe, but the importance of discretion for safety reasons. That Elvis should take risks, life is too short to not chase after someone you want.
⦿ On set the next day, Steve manages to find you in the audience and pulls you aside to send a message from Elvis. "He wants to meet you in his dressing room at the end of filming for the day," Binder says.
⦿ After watching him perform, you do as instructed and wait in a chair in his dressing room until he arrives. When he comes in, he locks the door before stepping towards you.
⦿ "What's your name, baby?" Elvis speaks in his Southern drawl, placing a hand on your face. "Y/N," You breathed out, his face drawing closer to your own. "Pretty name for a pretty boy," He said in a flirtatious tone, brushing a bit of your hair back off your face.
⦿ "Comin' up here with those pretty lil' eyes, doin' me in and changin' everything I thought I knew," Elvis admits, his breath fanning your face. You begin to fluster, cheeks pooling with heat, "That look," He began, stroking his thumb down your cheek and towards the corner of your lips.
⦿ "Doin' somethin' to me that no woman has ever done," His voice more smooth and drawn out. His thumb tracing over your lips before placing his hand back to rest on your cheek. "Would you mind if I stole a kiss from you, baby?" Elvis asked, like a gentleman.
⦿ With your permission, he softly connected his lips with yours that felt like electricity running through you both. Your hands rested on his wrists, your lips fitting perfectly together with his own. You have never felt more blissful than under Elvis' touch.
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creative-anchorage · 3 years
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On the night of July 9, 2020, Nicole Harper went to bed crying, thinking she was no longer pregnant after an Arkansas state trooper — using a police driving maneuver to end car chases — flipped her vehicle on a highway after he accused her of not pulling over quickly enough during a traffic stop. ... The next day, however, a doctor detected a heartbeat, and Harper, who had spent years trying to get pregnant, is now the mother of a 4-month-old baby girl, Norwood said. ... While the civil lawsuit alleges that Harper suffered severe bodily injuries, Norwood declined to describe them in detail but said "the mental harm she suffered is way worse than the physical harm."
"She's not after the money. She wants the PIT policy reevaluated," Norwood said. "You shouldn't flip someone's car for the smallest traffic violation possible." ... Norwood said Harper was not trying to flee from the police officer and she wasn't a threat to anyone during the pursuit. It's a victimless crime, Norwood said, that led the officer to deploy excessive and unreasonable force against her.
That night, Harper was driving home alone...when Dunn initiated a traffic stop against her for going 84 mph in a 70 mph zone.
He turned on his lights and siren while pursuing Harper, who immediately switched on her hazard lights, slowed down, and pulled into the right lane, according to a dashcam video provided to BuzzFeed News by Norwood.
Harper felt there wasn't enough room on either shoulder of the highway due to concrete barriers to safely pull over her car, she states in her lawsuit and in a conversation with Dunn immediately after the accident. Instead, she turned on her blinkers, dropped her speed to approximately 60 mph, and waited to pull over at an exit ahead, the lawsuit states.
A little over two minutes into the pursuit, Dunn used a PIT — tapping his vehicle into the back of Harper's car — to force her to stop. The PIT caused her red SUV to veer sharply to the left toward the concrete barrier, and seconds later it flipped over, leaving Harper hanging upside down in her seat.
While Dunn was helping Harper get out of the car, he is heard asking her on the dashcam video, "Why didn't you stop?"
"Because I didn't feel like it was safe ... I didn't feel like there was enough space," Harper is heard saying.
"Well, this is where you ended up," Dunn replies, as Harper struggles to get out of the car.
She is heard telling Dunn, "I'm pregnant!" to which Dunn says, "Well, ma'am, you've got to pull over when we tell you."
During their conversation, Harper is heard agreeing with Dunn that she was speeding, but says she didn't think the shoulders were wide enough for her to pull over. She then tells him that's why she had turned on her hazard lights to indicate that she was going to stop ahead.
"I didn't even think it was safe for you for me to pull over there," she is heard telling Dunn. "I thought it would be safe to wait until the exit."
Dunn then tells her how police use the PIT maneuver when they believe people are fleeing from them. ... In 2020, the Washington Post reported that since 2016, at least 30 people have been killed and hundreds more injured when police use PIT maneuvers to end car chases. At least 18 of those deaths were when police tried to stop the cars for minor traffic violations such as speeding, and at least four people who died were bystanders or victims of the crime.
Norwood said that at no point has Dunn apologized to Harper for endangering her life, and he is not aware of any disciplinary action taken against the officer. ...
Norwood said he and Harper reached out to the state police several times to resolve the issue privately and to urge them to reexamine their PIT policy, but said they refused.
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ijustwant2write · 3 years
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Fight or Flight-Anthony Bridgerton x Reader
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(GIF credit to @ladycolinbridgerton​)
Requested by anonymous: ‘Hiii,Love your writings! Could you do something Bridgerton, Anthony x reader where the reader tries to stop the duel and gets hurt? Angst/fluff?!’
Characters: Anthony Bridgerton x Reader, Daphne Bridgerton x Reader (sister-in-law), Collin Bridgerton x Reader (brother-in-law)
Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name
Warnings: Duel (guns, mention of death), injuries, angst, fluff
                                    *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Collin and I laughed as we both carried Violet through the foyer of the home, clearly someone had too much to drink. My mother-in-law continued to deny this through her giggling.
“Of course not, you are completely sober.” Collin joked as we made it to the stairs.
“And I’m sober enough to know when you’re being impertinent.” Violet said to her son, still holding my hand.“Good night dears.”
“Good night mother.”
“Good night.”
Collin and I shared a look as she went upstairs, failing to hold in our laughter. We both doubled over as we laughed, until we heard someone call us. Turning to our left, we saw Anthony and Benedict in the doorway.
“Come here.” Anthony hissed.
“Good God. Did someone die?” Collin whined.
“What? What’s happened?” I asked, suddenly panicking. 
“Collin, get here, now.” Anthony instructed, his younger brother complying. 
I followed.“Anthony, what’s wrong? Is someone hurt? Are you in trouble?” I didn’t mean for all the questions but I loved him too much for something to happen to him.
He shoved Collin inside, stepping out and shutting the door behind him.“It doesn’t concern you darling. Just go up to bed.”
“Wait,” I grabbed onto his arm before he could get away,“Anthony, please don’t shut me out.”
“This isn’t for women’s ears. Please, do as I say.”
Anthony kissed my forehead tenderly, before he quickly ripped his arm away, looking sympathetic as he did so. The door shut, and although I was tempted to burst in there, I knew this was something out of my league. Sighing, I reluctantly walked away, slipping off my heels before slowly making my way upstairs. 
As I prepared for bed, my mind was distant. I couldn’t stop wondering what their meeting was about. Anthony looked stressed (even more than usual), and the fact that the eldest brothers were together meant this business was serious. Once my maids were finished and gone, I sat up in bed, having left some candles lit. At first I thought reading might take my mind off things, but the romantic novel only made me think of my husband more. I was tired from the ball, feet throbbing from dancing, which made me believe I could fall asleep. I wasn’t able to fool myself, unfortunately stuck awake again. Groaning in frustration, I stood, making my way to the door. I hesitated, wondering if I should really go storming downstairs when Anthony told me otherwise. No, I had to check on my love.
Opening the door, I heard someone else do the same. Poking my head out, I looked down the hall, seeing Daphne also awake. She rushed towards me, grabbing my hand without a word and dragging me out of my room.
“Woah, Daphne, woah, slow down!” I exclaimed quietly, stopping her at the top of the stairs.“Why are you rushing downstairs? What’s wrong?”
“My brother is doing something terribly stupid, and I cannot stand by doing nothing.” She said, tugging on my arm as she continued her route.
That made my heart beat even greater, terrified for what my husband could be a part of. I kept up with her, still tightly holding her hand until we burst into the room the men had their meeting in. Collin was the only one in there, looking alarmed when he saw us.
“Where have they gone?” Daphne demanded to know.
Collin sighed.“Daph-”
“Tell me where this duel takes place.”
“And why would I do that?”
“Duel?! Anthony has gone to a duel?! With who?!” I exclaimed. 
“So that I may prevent it from happening.” Daphne continued.
“Hastings has done you a grave dishonour.”
“Can someone please explain what is happening?” I stood beside them, though neither took any notice.“What does the Duke of Hastings have to do with any of this?”
“Surely you wish to see him pay?”
“Not with his life.” Daphne snapped back.
“Anthony is dueling with Hastings?! What if they kill each other?”
“It will not come to that.” Collin finally addressed me.“The Duke will remember his honour once he finds himself on the deadly end of a pistol.”
“And if he does not?” Daphne said.
“They will both do the gentlemanly thing and fire their pistols wide. Now allow them to bring this ugly business to a conclusion themselves.”
Daphne groaned as I began pacing around the room.“Do you know how many times I’ve heard that said? Myself and (Y/N)? That we should leave the men to their business and to not concern ourselves with such weighty affairs? Whose affairs, right now, are my future, my family.”
“This isn’t going to end well, you know it Collin.” I stopped walking around, crossing my arms over my chest in frustration.
“(Y/N) is right. Anthony is too angry to fire wide and Simon is too stubborn to yield. You did not see them in that garden.”
“No, I did not, and neither did anyone else. You should be happy that no one saw anything.” Collin pointed out.
So something dishonourable happened in the gardens of the party. Something that has cause my husband to want to duel an old friend. Part of me felt slightly angered towards Daphne, she had been playing with fire around the Duke, it’s all Anthony went on about for the last few weeks.
“Only someone did see.” Daphne realised.
Collin and I stared at her wide eyed.
“Cressida Cowper. Collin, you must tell me where they’ve gone.”
“I’m coming with you.” I declared. 
“Neither of you are going, Anthony will have my head-”
“Collin.” I stood in front of him, putting on the angriest face I could.“My husband may be about to lose his life and I knew nothing about it. Believe me, he will be reprimanded for that, but if you do not tell us where these stupid men are right now, it will be me having your head, not Anthony!”
After pressuring Collin to reveal where the men were, we raced to the stables, both Daphne and I still in our nightgowns, with only a cloak to cover us from the wind whipping against us as we rode. Our poor horses were not expecting this early call, using what energy they had to gallop as fast as possible. My throat was dry, heart racing and mind drowning with thoughts about what could be happening right now. Had they even started? Were the shots fired? 
We rode out of the country and into large fields. It seemed that we would never reach them in time. I kept my eye out for any signs of people or horses, praying that my husband wouldn’t be bleeding out on the ground. Why hadn’t he told me? He hadn’t even said goodbye. All I got was a simple kiss on the forehead, nothing other than that. Even if he did survive, he would have to leave this place, but was he going to leave without me?
“There they are!” Daphne shouted to us, speeding her horse ahead.
“Daphne! Wait!” I yelled after her, but she was too far away.
There were multiple bodies up ahead, and it looked like the duel had only just started, they were taking their steps already. I urged my horse to go faster, screaming Anthony’s name, but he couldn’t hear me. The men turned, ready to aim and fire. Tears started falling down my cheeks, quickly drying from the wind hitting my face. I was getting so close, but it still wasn’t enough. Daphne had somehow made it to them, but as the gunshots echoed out, she was caught in the middle of it, her horse rearing up and throwing her off.
As she landed on the ground, my horse also got spooked, rearing up as hers did, though I managed to stay on. However, it went hurtling forwards, and I couldn’t regain any control. I screamed as I tried to grab the rein again, feeling my balance slip away. One minute I was managing to stay upright on the horse, the next I had fallen off to my left, with my foot still hooked onto the stirrup. My head hit the ground harshly, and I was dragged through the dirt and grass as my horse continued to gallop. I couldn’t make out where I was, or what was right or left. Suddenly, the horse started slowing down, the dragging finally stopping. As I figured out where I was, my head still spinning, I felt someone lift my leg out of the stirrup and slowly onto the floor. 
“(Y/N), (Y/N) can you hear me?” Anthony gently held my face in his hands, kneeling beside me.
“My head...” I moaned.
“It’s alright, my dear.” an older man appeared, and I only just realised he was also kneeling beside me.“You’ve hit your head quite hard, you’ll likely have bruises along your back, and your leg will ache. But it’s nothing rest won’t fix. If you have severe headaches, you should call upon me again to give you something for it. For now, I shall forget I ever saw any of this, just as we agreed.”
“Thank you doctor.” Anthony breathed out, helping me sit up as the doctor walked away. 
I clung onto his arm, using my other hand to pull his face closer to mine. I kissed him hard, relieved that he was still alive and unharmed. He seemed to be feeling the same way as me, until I pulled away and slapped him round the face. His mouth was open in shock.
“That’s for going to a duel without telling me.” 
“(Y/N), I...what?”
“I can’t believe you thought you could just go and get shot, or shoot someone and leave me behind! What would happen to me? I couldn’t bear it if you died, or left, either way, I am furious with you!”
“Darling, I had to do it. He dishonoured Daphne, therefore, dishonouring our name.” 
I tried to stand by myself, though felt dizzy, annoyed that I had to have Anthony to help me. He kept his arms around me, and although I loved the feeling, knowing he was safe, I had a hatred for him in that moment.
“But why wouldn’t you tell me?” I looked up at him, ignoring the throbbing in my head.
“We would have to leave society, make a life as...I don’t know what but we wouldn’t be allowed here anymore.”
“So? Do you really think I regard myself so highly that I would diminish my love for you to remain in society?”
“What?”
“Anthony, I would rather leave all of this behind, and be with you wherever you go in the world. That fact that you think I would prefer to live without you hurts me.”
“(Y/N), I didn’t mean-”
I slipped out of his hold, hopefully stable now.“I don’t want to speak of this right now. I’m finished with this topic of conversation.”
Anthony knew there was no point trying to reason with me in that moment. It was also no time to argue when there were more pressing matters at hand. He huffed, only walking away from me once Collin approached, letting me loop my arm through his for support. I watched as he glared at Simon, who was in a deep discussion with Daphne. 
“We must resume before someone should find us.” he said to Simon before taking a pistol from Benedict again.
“There will be no need to resume.” Daphne spoke up. We all looked at her, wondering how she was going to stop the duel.“The Duke and I are to be married.”
                                     *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
We had all ensured we were home before any of the staff could see us, slipping out of our dirty clothes and stuffing them under the bed. I had struggled, feeling nauseous as I rushed. But as I lay down in bed, my headache suddenly returning and my back aching, I heard the door lock. Anthony threw the key onto his desk in the room, hands on his hips as he paced. 
“Anthony.” I tried to stop him.“Anthony, please don’t do that.”
“I’m thinking (Y/N).” he mumbled.
“Then why don’t you think in your office? You’re making me dizzy. And nervous.”
“Do not speak to me like that. You do realise how this might tarnish our name?”
“They’re getting married, it will be fine Anthony.”
“It does not matter, he still dishonoured her, I saw it myself.”
“And you have not done that yourself in the past?”
That made him stop in his tracks. His head turned to me so quickly I though his neck would snap off.“They were not eligible ladies.”
“And that makes a difference? Anthony, I need to rest, please leave me.” I turned onto my side, pulling the covers higher so they almost covered my face.
He groaned, and I instantly regretted what I had said. His footsteps were loud as he made his way to the door, but I never heard it being unlocked. He sounded like he was now approaching the bed, and I found out I was right when the bed dipped in front of me me. I opened my eyes to see Anthony shuffling around, and I heard two light thumps on the floor from taking off his boots, before he lifted and covers; he shuffled in towards me, gently putting his arm under my pillow, moving as close as he could to me.
“You are right.” his voice was quieter now.“I, along with many men, have...done things in the past. Those women are, were meant for those things, but as soon as I saw you in the room, I knew I had to approach you. I remember that beautiful blue dress you were wearing, and how well you held yourself. But you were still so enticing, I found you to be so interesting, yet you only spoke with me for five minutes. You danced so elegantly, yet I still thought I could keep up with you.”
“If you are trying to make me swoon so I forget all about earlier, it isn’t working. You use the same story every time.” I said.
“Because it’s one of the best ones. I could retale about the time I saw you first promenading, the balls and social events we coincidentally went to, how I called upon your house-”
“Anthony, you may stop.” I tried not to giggle, but my smile was evident.“I am still angry at you for putting yourself in such an idiotic and dangerous situation. However, I deeply admire your love for your family, I know you would do anything for them. Just...if you ever do anything like that again, you are to inform me of your plans. I go wherever you go.”
“I promise. I was stupid to think I could do that to you. I just wanted to make sure you would still have a good life.”
“The only way I would have a good life is by being with you.”
Anthony smiled, tenderly kissing me.“You should rest darling. You’re hurt.”
“As long as you stay here with me.”
“I promise.”
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Text
— fixing hearts —
Warnings: alcohol, mentions of smoking, sexual content, fluff, loads of angst, injury, migraines
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: You broke Bucky's heart before he broke yours. Now you two fix them.
Word Count: 6438
A/N: I didn't mean this to be this long!
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The loud music blared from the speakers, humming through your bones as the beat dropped. The smell of sweat, alcohol, and smoke made its way to you, eyes watering with the strong scents. Bodies were shuffling around on the floor, men and women mingling and dancing with each other. Some couples made out on the sofas set on the sides and, as much as you didn’t like the idea, doing more for everyone to see. You shuddered, hoping to get out before you saw anything like that.
Looking around in the crowd, you spotted the two large blonds and brunette close to the bar. You watched Bucky pull away from Steve and Thor, walking with a slight stumble towards a very pretty looking woman. She was decked out in a pink dress that barely covered her breasts and reached about a third down her thigh. You eyed Bucky’s hands that came to rest on her hips before he ducked down to whisper into her ear. Your heart broke with every second, but you kept your feelings in check as Bucky pulled her flush against him and you made your way to Thor and Steve.
Be professional. It’s only your job. Don’t bring your feelings into it. Don’t mix personal and professional, Y/N.
“Y/N!” Steve shouted over the heavy rock that was playing, stumbling back and bumping into Thor who looked less tipsy. Steve stumbled over to you and caught himself using your shoulder as leverage.
“Lady Y/N! Would you like to join us?” Thor asked, raising a glass and putting it to his lips. Before he could take a sip, however, you placed a hand on his wrist.
“I think that’s enough for one night,” you said, shouting a little but keeping your voice as gentle as you could. Thor nodded solemnly and put the glass down. “Could you help me with Steve?” Thor nodded again and got up and swung Steve’s arm over his shoulder.
“Shall we go?” Thor asked politely, whispering into your ear.
“The car’s outside. Sam’s waiting out there. I’ll grab Barnes and come,” you instructed him, waiting for his nod. Instead, he shook his head and looked over your shoulder.
“He is gone with that pretty lady he was eyeing.”
Sure enough, when you looked over your shoulder, Bucky was gone. You looked around the room, but couldn’t find him anywhere. You sighed, feeling the headache coming like a flood. Bucky was going to make headlines if any paparazzi saw him making out with that woman or sneaking around or doing anything else. The amount of shit you would get in from Archie—though Tony had always understood and paid whoever to take the photos and article down.
“Come on,” you sighed, pulling Thor’s arm, knowing he couldn’t have heard you over the beat blaring through the large speakers. The headache was only getting stronger as you three walked out to the front where Sam stood, leaning against the Porsche. He straightened up as he saw you and the blonds, opening the back doors for Thor and Steve to slide into.
“Bucky?” Sam asked as he closed the door and Steve laid his sweaty head against the cool window.
“With a hookup somewhere,” you replied, accepting the hug he gave you. Out of everyone in the team, Sam was the only one who made sure you never had to chase him not to do anything that would ruin his reputation. He was the only one who knew how you felt and cared to respect you.
“Should I—“
“No, I’ll go ahead and find him,” you answered before he could ask. “You get these two home and then come back for me, yeah?”
“Are you sure?” Sam gave you a pointed look before glancing around. There were drunks and he didn’t like it anymore than you did. “It’s not safe out and I don’t like my best friend to walk around alone.”
“It’s okay, Sam.” You placed a hand on his forearm and squeezed it. “I’ll be fine. Plus, when will I use Nat’s training, right?” He still looked weary about the idea so you added, “And you’re just a call away.”
“Call me if you think anyone’s following you, ‘kay?”
You nodded and walked away to the back entrance. The bouncer eyed you for a moment before a flicker of recognition flashed in his eyes.
“Can I help you, miss Y/S?” He asked, looking around for, no doubt, any of the Avengers.
“Have you seen Sergeant Barnes anywhere around?”
“They headed back in just a few seconds before, ma’am. If you want I can let you in.” You nodded at his suggestion. He punched in the code and opened the door, moving to the side to let you through. “I think they’ll be in one of the back rooms. You can come back this way.”
“I will. Thank you,” you said with a smile. He smiled sheepishly back and closed the door behind you. You rubbed your temples with two fingers, both hands cold and cooling to your head.
You heard Bucky swear as you passed a room. You rolled your eyes, already knowing what you would see. To prevent that, you knocked once, thrice, then twice. Bucky had to know it was you. Only you used this knock in the whole Tower. You heard the muffled coming! and waited for Bucky to open the door.
“What?” Bucky whipped the door open with his pants on. You didn’t look over his shoulder at the woman or look at his torso. You looked him right in the eyes.
“It’s time to go,” you replied, feeling like a babysitter. Bucky nodded once, his movements slow and stumbling. You waited for him as patiently as you could, texting Sam to be at the front again. He responded with a simple be there in five.
You walked out, Bucky in tow, stumbling and tripping over his own feet. He was leaning against the wall as you waited for Sam to pull in. The bouncer, Brian, suggested to stand with you two since his shift had ended. You noticed the way Bucky glared at him, seemingly not trusting him. But you liked Brian. He made you laugh over stupid jokes and asked you about your life. Much more than Bucky ever did.
When Sam came out of the car to help seat Bucky into the car, Brian asked for your number and you gave it. Sam whistled when you kissed Brian’s cheek and introduced himself briefly.
“Will you hurry it up?” Bucky’s angry voice came. You jumped slightly, pushing yourself into Brian’s bigger body. You glanced up at him with a sheepish smile.
“We’re wrapping it up,” Sam said with a mischievous smile. “Speaking of which, did you wrap it or…”
Bucky’s cheeks turned red as he glared at Sam. “Get in or I get out.”
“Sorry about him, Bri,” you whispered as Sam rolled his eyes and made his way to the driver’s seat.
“It’s fine,” Brian answered with a small twinkle in his eyes. “You called me Bri.”
“Do you mind?”
“Not at all, Y/N.”
———
“Shit,” you muttered, looking at the photos on your laptop. You picked up the phone, dialling Tony’s extension number. You wanted to hit your head against a wall, but apparently it would just make your head hurt more.
“Who’re you calling?” Sam asked gently, eyeing Steve as he attempted to say something, but all that came out was a moan. Thor was sitting on the floor, leaning against the armchair Steve sat in. Bucky was taking up all the space on the two seater, staring at you and Sam talking.
“Tony.” You put your hand against your forehead, hoping that the headache would just leave.
“He’s not here,” Sam informed you as gently as he could. “He’s gone to a conference meeting in London.” He already knew you were having a hard time dealing with the press and now, with the extra pictures being posted, you were on the verge of a breakdown. He could practically feel the headache that had made you slam the phone back on the receiver. That seemed to get Steve’s attention and Thor stood up.
“Lady Y/N,” Thor said in a very soothing voice, but it made you glare at him anyway, “I apologize for the lack of attention I have given matters. I should have stopped them—”
“It’s okay, Thor. It’s fine,” you sighed, leaning back into the chair as Thor nodded slowly. “Could you help Steve? Get him up and maybe get some of the alcohol out of his system with that potion thing?” Thor nodded and helped Steve up, holding his weight and walking towards the washroom.
“I should be heading out to tell Sarah I’m alive, but I’ll be back at nine,” Sam said, getting up with a gentle smile. “That’s before Archie, right?”
“He comes at eight,” you mumbled, flipping your hand to put the back of your forehead. Your hand was starting to get warmer in your office and it didn’t soothe your headache anymore.
“Then I’ll be here at seven,” Sam declared with a boyish grin. His eyes glanced at the clock up on the wall. “You should get some sleep.”
“What time is it?” You asked, looking down as a painful wave rippled through your head. You squeezed your eyes shut at the pain, biting the inside of your cheek.
“It’s three in the morning, Y/N.” His voice carried the concern he used when he saw right through your facade. You looked up at him and let a small smile appear on your face.
“I’ll be fine. You go meet Sarah and the kids.”
Sam huffed, but started to walk out your office. He stopped at the door, one hand on the doorknob, twisting it slowly. He turned around, opened the door, and said, “Take care of yourself for once.” Then he left, leaving the heavy words to sink into you.
It was only a moment later that you remembered the brunette on your sofa. Your eyes flickered over to Bucky, his eyes seemed to have stayed on you throughout the few hours he had been here. His blue eyes were bright in the dimly lit room—so that your headache didn’t increase. They reminded you of Cheshire Cat, from Alice in Wonderland, a movie that your niece loves to replay over and over again. You tilted your head, leaning back, frowning as you noticed you had never received a smirk or grin from Bucky ever since you started to keep things professional with him.
You knew that it had hurt him when you had placed a hand on his chest to stop him from embracing you three months ago. The smile had disappeared, his lit face dimmed, and his arms had dropped to his side, confusion etched on his face. It hurt you more. The tears that poured out of you later in the comfort of your bed were more than you could remember. You could still feel the heaviness in your chest, the terrible headache, and the burning in your throat. You didn’t—couldn’t bring yourself to look at Bucky after that for a long time.
Your room was right next to his, having to share a floor with him, and you could hear everything. The women that left early morning from your floor always left in tears. Bucky would walk out after a few minutes, looking fresh and clean of any of their perfumes, but you still smelled it. Sometimes it was just because the woman had walked around the floor or because she left a clothing article behind, but it still hurt. Not that you let Bucky know.
Sam had found out soon enough, walking into your room with pizza that he had swiped when you didn’t show up. He found you curled up on your bed, eyes puffy and red. He had put the pizza down on the bed and let you cry on his shoulder. He told you that you were like his sister, telling you a story of when he had beaten up this guy for touching Sarah when she said no. You fell asleep soundly for the first time in a month that night. Sam didn’t want you to get dependent on him, so he came once a week to help you sleep.
“Lady Y/N?” Thor walked out the washroom, slipping a vile into his pocket as a sobered Steve walked in behind him. “Captain Rogers has no more Asgardian liquor in his veins. He has drunk enough of the potion to get it out. I was surprised when he didn’t throw up!” Thor let out a laugh that startled you, but you didn’t say anything.
“Thanks,” you muttered, eyes drooping as Steve sat down in front of you. He was going to apologize. This was the routine, wasn’t it? The Avengers did something so that the media could throw dirt on their reputation and then, after you cleaned up their mess, they would apologize. It was getting way too predictable.
“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Steve sighed, rubbing his eyes. “I shouldn’t have been out in public doing anything like that. I know you have so much on your hands and… I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” you answered platonically. You couldn’t bring yourself to care about how much work it was going to take to take down the photos of a literal god, America’s golden boy, and the former Winter Soldier getting drunk in a bar. It wasn’t like you hadn’t done this before.
“I should go,” Steve mumbled, somewhat aware of the time. You just nodded, your hand finding its way to your head again. This time it was warm and did almost nothing to soothe you. Steve walked out the room, Thor following with a smile.
“You should go too, Barnes.” You didn’t look up at him, knowing he was already staring at you. You wanted to hear the door open and close, but instead it was silent.
“Why don’t you call me James anymore?” His voice was painful, a bit bitter and angry too. You glanced up at him and shrugged. “There has to be a better reason than that.” Bucky straightened up, watching you with careful eyes.
“I thought it was more professional—”
“That’s bullshit and you know it,” Bucky snapped, getting up and stalking right towards you. He circled the table, twisted your chair so that you faced him, and looked into your eyes with a murderous look. Instead of it scaring you, it boiled your anger towards him. The anger, the sadness, the pain increased to the limit that it broke the bottle you had managed to put it in.
“Then what was I supposed to do? Wait for you to put a stop to something that can never happen! You let me in and I let you! It was a mistake! You know why? ‘Cause you’ll always find a way to hurt me! You’ve been hurting me for the past three months and never noticed it!”
Bucky had straightened up and a pained look overtook his face. “I—”
“You never noticed because you never cared,” you whispered, tears welling up in your eyes.
Bucky opened his mouth to say something, anything, but he didn’t. Instead he nodded and left. Your heart was pounding in your ears as he slammed the door shut. You flinched as your heart shattered, a pile at your feet.
———
“I had fun,” you said, turning to face Brian. Brian grinned, dimples appearing on his cheeks. His curly blond hair had been tossed around in the wind and you reached up to fix it. You ran your fingers through, detangling as much as you could before laying it towards the front.
“Glad to hear it,” he said, making you smile as he leaned down to kiss your cheek. “I didn’t think that you could sing.”
“You barely know me is the problem,” you retorted, defending yourself as he chuckled with a nod. It was only your third date, but he knew so much more about you than the Avengers. It was a bit strange that Brian knew more in just three dates and two weeks than the Avengers knew about in a year. You had chalked it up to the fact that he just cared more than they did.
“We’ll have to fix that then.” His eyes flickered down, eyes roaming up again. “Did I tell you that you look beautiful?”
“I stopped counting when you hit fifty,” you said, cheeks and body heating up as he placed his hands on your hips. You glanced down at your attire; a simple black dress with silver lining and black heels with silver jewelry. It was perfect for the karaoke bar he had chosen. You were tipsy, but you weren’t even close to being drunk.
“Oh, well, you look beautiful,” he said, bringing a larger smile on your face. You buried your face into his chest and breathed him in, liking the sweet citrus perfume. It wasn’t strong enough to give you a headache and you liked that.
“Thank you,” you mumbled, pulling back and taking a few steps back before looking away from Brian and at the Tower’s steps. You had only stepped on the first step when Brian called out your name.
“Do I get a kiss? If you want? On the cheek?” He asked with a hopeful voice. You giggled and smiled sheepishly. You walked towards him and tipped your head back to kiss his cheek. You let your lips linger ever so slightly before pulling away. His bright blue eyes were closed and a soft sigh fell off his lips. You kissed his cheek hurriedly once more and smiled as he opened his eyes.
“Goodnight, Bri,” you muttered before he whispered it back. He smiled and waved for you to hurry on in. And you did—it was getting colder and you knew that Brian wouldn’t go before you were in safely.
The doors closed behind you, waving once for Brian to leave as you walked towards the elevator doors, unaware of the broody man behind you. You had already stepped into the elevator when his hand darted out to steady you as you stumbled. You were about to thank him, but your words stopped as the piercing blue eyes met yours. He pushed past you, pressing the floor number without any words. You stood next to him, painfully aware of how he smelt of nothing but him. It was messing with your head and you thought that you might as well have another headache.
The elevator stopped, jerking and making you grab the railings. Bucky’s initial reaction was to pull you close by wrapping his arm around your shoulder and tucking you into his side. His other hand darted to his pocket, feeling for his gun and knives. He let go of you, watching you carefully grab the rails, before pushing the emergency button. A static voice spoke into the confined space, startling you and pushing you to step closer to Bucky.
“Sorry guys,” Tony said, sounding tired and exhausted. “My shit’s malfunctioning. You’re gonna be stuck for a while. Sorry again.” There was a static glitch before the silence dawned on you two. You sank down, sighing as the headache really hit. You started rubbing your head, praying that your hands were cold. But they had heated up in the current situation, your nerves getting the best of you.
You looked up to see what Bucky was doing. He was standing against the side across you, face clear of any emotion or thoughts. Even his translucent eyes seemed to be shut closed, unlike the many times you had been able to know what he was thinking just by gazing into his eyes for a second. It was how he showed emotions after what Hydra did to him; talk with his eyes. With the mask they had made for him shut anything he had to say. It made him mute. It caused him to use his eyes rather than his mouth to explain.
“Are you okay?” You asked, finding that his hands were intertwined together in that nervous way of his.
“Do you care?” He remarked, venom lacing his words.
You ignored the pain in your chest and nodded. “A lot,” you added when he looked skeptical. He nodded, looking at you with an expressionless face.
“Are you okay?” He asked, the question bursting out of his mouth before he could stop it. He saw your eyes studying him for a moment, looking for something you couldn’t find.
“Migraine,” you answered. “Your cologne’s strong.”
“Shit,” he muttered, remembering that he had used his stronger cologne rather than the one he had started using after you told him about your migraines. He was careful not to apply any strong scent if you were going to be there, but he had thought you wouldn’t be here. He thought you might spend the night with Brian. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” You smiled a bit. “It’s a bit soothing actually.” And it was. The citrus smell and husky sandalwood helped calm your nerves as the elevator jerked again. You yelped and let Bucky engulf you in his strong arms—you hadn’t even noticed when he came close, but that could’ve been because he was quick.
“Stark?” Bucky called out once the elevator was at calm. He helped you stand up, not letting his hand move further than an inch from you.
“The elevator’s gonna go down,” Tony answered urgently, the sounds of the team chatter echoing in the background. “One of the wires snapped, no idea how. There supposed to be that strongest…” he trailed off, mumbling to himself as Bucky wrapped an arm around you when you grabbed his forearm. “Anyway, Peter’s gonna try his best to, uh, hold the elevator like he did in Washington.” The slightest amount of irritation slipped through his words, reminding you of how concerned the man was when Peter climbed up the building to save his friends in Washington.
“The spider?” Bucky looked down at you, directing the question to you.
“Yeah,” you answered with a small nod. You felt the ground shake under you, but this time the elevator fell. Like literally falling down a story or two. You fell towards the railing, it dug into your side before Bucky pulled you towards him again. The only thing you could do was hold onto Bucky, burying your face into his chest as he followed his instincts to hold you close. To protect you with his life.
“It’s okay,” Bucky whispered into your ear when the elevator stilled again. You nodded, but didn’t dare move in the slightest, scared that the elevator would fall to the last floor. Your hands fisted his shirt, hands closing tightly over his chest as the elevator shook in place, moving down maybe an inch or two.
“James, I—”
“Y/N, I’m—”
You both looked at each other, waiting for the other to continue their sentences. You nodded at Bucky as a way to say ‘you first’.
“I’m so sorry,” he said simply, desperation and pain clear in his eyes and voice. He let his hand glide up to your neck and pulled—sensing any signs of resistance from you as he did so—your head close so that his forehead touched yours. You could see everything he wanted to say through his eyes and he let you read his eyes thoroughly. He remembered the day you told him that his eyes spoke more words than he did.
“I wish I could forgive you, Barnes,” you whispered, eyes welling up with tears. “I really do.”
“I don’t expect you to, not right away and definitely not right now.” Bucky gulped, watching your eyes close and the tears spill down your cheeks. “I want you to know that that day you stopped me from hugging you, that day I was going to tell you that I love you.”
“What?” You gasped, pulling away to look at him with wide eyes, surprise and shock crystal clear in them.
Bucky smiled and sighed out, “Yeah. I was going to, but then you told me that we had to stop and be professional, especially since you were the only woman in my—” Bucky stopped, his voice cracking as more tears sprung to your eyes. “I didn’t know you knew, but I guess it finally hit me that I was hurting you. Then I started feeling… lonely when I slept, so I had more one-night stands than I thought. I tried to forget you by—by replacing you and, god, that was a stupid idea because none of them were you.” He took a breath and let his hands hold yours. “I’m so sorry, doll.”
“Guys?” Peter’s voice was a bit muffled from the metal, but enough for the bubble you two had been captured in to pop. “Are you two okay?”
“Yeah,” Bucky answered for the two of you. You wiped your tears as Bucky cleared his eyes of any tears that had been threatening to fall. The top of the elevator popped and Peter peeked in, his hair a bit of a mess.
“You, uh, have to climb out,” he told you, looking a bit nervous. “My webs can only hold for so long, but I’ve got a few holding the elevator. The doors are open up here.”
Bucky placed his hands on your hip, turning you around gently before lifting you up effortlessly. Peter grabbed your outstretched hand, tugging you up and to stand on the elevator. The elevator shook again, one of the webs coming undone. Peter quickly shot two more webs and stuck them to the elevator. You looked down at Bucky who avoided your gaze completely, instead staring calmly at Peter.
Your heart dropped as you noticed his calm demeanour and the acceptance of the situation in his eyes. “James!” You shouted before you could stop yourself. That seemed to grab his attention; his eyes snapping towards you as soon as he could, scanning your body for any wound. “I’m not stepping off this thing without you.”
“Get the hell off,” Bucky snapped, fear flashing in his eyes. “Parker, get her off.”
“Don’t you dare touch me, Peter.”
Peter stared at the two of you, glancing between the two of you nervously. He was torn between the former Winter Soldier who could snap his neck in a few seconds—Peter knew that Bucky would never, but still—and then there was you who he never wanted to piss off anyway. You were a storm if you ever had to be and he had only gotten a mere glimpse when you had had enough of Tony’s shenanigans, but he knew he didn’t want to be on the other side.
“I, uh—why—why don’t you climb up, Mr. Barnes? I think my webs will hold for a few more—”
Peter shot a web up, attaching it to the elevator as a few more webs broke apart and the shake made you fall, Bucky’s name tumbling out of your mouth. Bucky’s mouth fell agape as your name tore out of it.
“Please, get off!” He yelled, seeing Peter panicking and sticking more of his webs around. Then he froze, his brown eyes catching Bucky’s blue ones.
“I can, uh—let me just—I know what to do!” Peter jumped, climbing the walls and shooting out webs before he was satisfied and jumped on the elevator. He spread his arms to show off whatever he had done, but, honestly, you and Bucky had no clue what he did. He waved his arms around and showed off his work again, but the gesture had no effect on your expressions. “It’s physics! Like the web over holds the—”
“Peter,” you interrupted with an apologetic look. “Not the time. Later.” Bucky extended a hand when Peter nodded and crouched down for Bucky. Peter pulled Bucky up and out, and only then were you able to breathe right.
You let Steve pull you out the elevator shaft, but stopped him when he asked to look for injuries. “I’m fine,” you assured him, ignoring the sound of a sharp intake of breath Steve made. It wasn’t until everyone froze and looked at you that you looked at Steve. He was looking down at his hand, eyes full of horror and concern. You suddenly felt your knees buckle and almost fell to the ground with the intense amount of pain that hit your side. The only thing holding you up was Bucky’s metal arm wrapped around your waist.
“Keep your eyes on me and keep ‘em open,” Bucky whispered, eyes tearing up as you breathed in shakily. “Call a fucking doctor, Steve!”
“It hurts,” you mumbled, wincing as Bucky lowered the two of you onto the ground, the watchful eyes of the Avengers on you two.
“I know, doll. I know,” was all he could say before Bruce wheeled over a stretcher for you to be placed in. Bucky picked you up as gently as he could in a rush, lowering you and whispering praises like you’re doing great, just like that, and there we go, doll.
By the time that Bucky was ripped away from you, everyone had gathered outside your room. He let Steve guide him to sit on a chair, let him check him over for any wound, let him tell him that you would be okay. He wanted to believe Steve so much, but he wasn’t sure anymore. He racked his brain to remember when you had gotten cut or grazed with a sharp edge, but he was blank as a canvas. Then he saw it, playing out right in front of his eyes. The second time—or maybe the third, he couldn’t remember—the elevator fell, the rail had broken and you had fallen towards it. Shit.
———
The steady beeps in the distance awoke you from your slumber, a shift in the sound as you moved your fingers which felt asleep. The chatter in the distance and slight ringing made you open your eyes, letting them adjust before you got a good look at the people around you. Steve stood with a small smile, his hands on the footboard, holding his weight. Natasha was seated on the sofa with Clint by her side, smiling as you looked at them. Sam was the last one standing in the room, holding a finger to his lip as he pointed to the man laying his head beside your waist.
Bucky slept on his metal arm, his face turned towards you, a peaceful expression on him. His hand was laced with yours and held it under his chin as if he was holding it to his chest before. His lips were parted slightly, soft and deep breaths making their way out. His hair was flattened and curly against his scalp. The sight reminded of the nights you would find Bucky climbing into your bed, whispering about how he had a nightmare and just wanted to be with you. There were nights when Bucky couldn’t fall asleep and you two had spent it in hushed whispers, talking about anything and everything. There were nights when he didn’t want to talk, but spent it making love to you and worshipping your body.
You broke out of your trance, the memories getting too painful to remember. You looked at Steve, looking for an answer as to why Bucky was sleeping here.
“He wanted to be here when you woke up,” Steve answered with a quiet voice, a quick glance at Bucky. “Guess he missed it?”
“How long have I been out?” Your voice was quieter than Steve’s, but you couldn’t make it louder even if you wanted to.
“Almost a week.”
You glanced at the door that opened with a small bang, revealing a very loud Thor, shouting your name. It made your heart speed up, the monitor beeping to match your heart, and Bucky was startled awake. His eyes settled on your figure rather quickly, the tense posture dropping when he saw your eyes open and land on him. He smiled before his eyes noticed something, something that you hadn’t even noticed. You followed his trail of sight to your phone, flashing Brian’s name on it. You ignored it and turned to Bucky, noting the way his eyes seemed to say he was relieved that you had chosen him over Brian. You wanted to tell him that you would have picked him over Brian any day, but it wasn’t the time to say it.
“Hey,” Bucky breathed out, holding your hand in both of his hands and bringing it close to his chest.
“Hey,” you whispered back, a small giggle tumbling out of your lips before you fell into a coughing fit. Bucky immediately reached for the glass of water, helping you sit up with his flesh arm before lifting the glass to your lips. You sighed and thanked him when he put the glass away, watching as he grasped your hand again.
“We’re gonna,” Steve started, a red tinge to his cheeks, “go and give you two some space.” Your face heated up at the implications of Steve’s words, glancing over to see that Bucky’s face was bright red and he was avoiding Steve’s eyes. You wondered if everyone had heard what Bucky confessed in the elevator.
“Can we turn the damn beeping down?” You groaned, the sound making your head hurt. You laid against the soft pillow, putting a hand to your head.
“Uh, I don’t know, doll. I can ask Dr. Cho…” Bucky trailed off, getting up and letting your hand go gently and he poked his head out the door. When he saw Dr. Cho, he left the room with one glance at you to ask her about it. When he came back, you had expected Dr. Cho by his side, but it was just him. He walked over to the monitor and fiddled with a button that reduced the sound to a minimum.
“Close the blinds too, please?” Your voice was so tired and soft that Bucky knew he wouldn’t be able to say no to anything you requested of him anymore. Bucky didn’t answer you, but walked around the bed to close the blinds.
“Need anything else, doll?” Bucky asked with a boyish smile, concern leaking into his eyes the longer he waited for your answer.
“Just you,” you answered, reaching out for his hand which he instantly gave.
“I think it’s just the medicines talking,” Bucky mumbled out, sitting back down on the chair, giving you a painful smile. He lowered his head, not knowing what to say or do to make anything better. He knew he loved you—he always did—and he would spend everyday trying to prove it to you. It didn’t matter to him if it took forever, but if you ever told him no, he would step back—he respected you, no matter what your decision would be.
You squeezed his hands, forcing him to look at you. “Don’t get inside your head. It’s an evil place to be.” When he let his lips curve into a humour filled smile before it faltered. His eyes flickered over your shoulder to glare at your phone. You didn’t bother looking at it, ignoring it as you had before. “Who is it?”
“Brian,” he replied bitterly, eyes dropping back down to the edge of the bed where your hand rested inside of Bucky’s hands. You turned slightly, holding back a groan, and grabbed your phone to answer it. Bucky attempted to leave, but you tightened your grip on his hand to keep him there.
“Hello?” You croaked out, moving the phone out and putting it on speaker.
“Y/N? Are you okay? You haven’t answered any of my texts or calls for a whole week. You could’ve told me that I wasn’t enough—”
“Listen to me for a sec, please,” you interrupted, Bucky glaring daggers at the phone as if Brian would pop out of it any second.
“Okay.”
“You were enough. More than enough, but you deserve someone who deserves you just as much. I can’t be with you because I don’t deserve you, and it’s not just an excuse. I can’t give you my devotion or heart ‘cause my heart’s already gone.”
“To Sergeant Barnes?” Brian asked rhetorically, a breathy laugh echoing through the speaker. “I thought as much when I first met you, but I still shot my shot. Guess it was for no reason, huh? Don’t worry I get it.”
“Mia,” you said quickly, hoping that Brian hadn’t cut the phone.
“What?”
“You still love her, Bri. I think you were shooting your shot with the wrong person. You weren’t in it fully to begin with, neither was I, and I think we both knew that.”
The silence stretched on for a while before Brian spoke again. “We can still be friends, right?”
“I’d love that,” you replied honestly. “Go get her, racer.” Brian chuckled and then hung up, leaving you and Bucky in a comfortable silence.
He started playing with your hand, trying to mask his emotions from his eyes when he looked up at you. “You really mean that?” You knew exactly what he was talking about, but decided to tease him about it.
“Mean what?” You feigned confusion, knowing that Bucky could see right through your teasing. His eyes glinted with mischief as he moved his head closer to yours, letting his gaze flicker down to your lips. The gesture made heat bloom in your chest, biting your lip to keep yourself from smiling.
“Your heart is with me?”
“I don’t think I ever said that,” you quipped, voice still quiet and hoarse. “But I do remember someone with blue eyes like yours saying something about how much he loves me.”
“Yeah?” Bucky moved his lips to your ear, shivers running through your body as he spoke.
“Yeah. Sounded exactly like you. Actually, he looked exactly like you.” The smile spread across your face as you leaned your head towards him.
His gaze fluttered between your two eyes, biting his lip before letting his metal hand slip behind your neck to pull your forehead against his. First he teased you, letting his lips hover over your lips, just mere millimetres away from placing his lips on yours. Then he moved a bit back, letting his lips move to your cheeks, forehead, even pecking your nose before kissing the side of your lips. When you let out a small whimper, he finally descended on your lips.
104 notes · View notes
volleychumps · 4 years
Note
Can I request a scenario where seijoh has a first year manager and kyoutani lashes out at her, making her cry
SKAJKJDSAKJS *ahem* yes
Seijoh w/ a Manager That Cries bc of Kyoutani 
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“Y/N, please?” 
“Oikawa, I said no.”
“Yeah. She said no.” 
“Shut up! I heard her the first time!” The setter glares at a chuckling Hanamaki before visibly wilting with a pout, making you giggle at the imitation Mattsun delivers behind him. 
“Why not?” Oikawa attempts again, prompting Iwaizumi to deliver a well-deserved smack upside the brunette’s head, causing him to whine something about continued abuse as you sigh, setting your clipboard down to attempt to gain a hold on things. 
“Y/N doesn’t want to go on a shitty date with you, you piece of trash.” 
“I second that.” 
“I’m your senior, Kunimi-kun!” 
“Is that...the wind I hear Kindaichi?” 
The first year blinks once in utter confusion before beginning to ask what the hell Kunimi meant, causing you to clap your hands together once to handle the chaos, successfully managing to silence the whole Aoba Joshai team efficiently.  
The third years (minus Oikawa) share a knowing smirk, impressed a first-year like you was so capable of handling a group of this demeanor. 
“You guys are cute, but stop goofing off and focus on your practice!” You cross your arms, frowning as Oikawa grins at the term cute, prompting the other third years to trip him as he jogs back to the court. “We have prelims coming up soon, so you guys need to be at your best!” 
“No need to yell, you baby.” Matsukawa taps your head in passing as Kindaichi flashes you a thumbs up, causing you to smile warmly as Oikawa flashes you a wink. 
“Hai~ Y/N-chan!” 
“Your faux crush on her is the lamest thing on earth.” 
“Like you don’t, Iwa-chan. And it is so not faux!” 
“Stop saying shitty things.” 
You smile a bit when they all seem to listen to you, bickering nonetheless before nervously shifting when a single one doesn’t. 
Kentaro Kyoutani was the hardest to get through to ever since he had been recruited, simply ignoring the others and turning down team get-togethers at every opportunity. The boy was skilled, no doubt about it, but still seemed to hold a dangerous edge to him that was evident in his playing skills. 
“Kyotani-Kun?” You swallow your nervousness as you approach him, shifting your hair to the side as the rugged boy simply glances at you once before going back to staring at his laces. “Are you gonna practice?” 
You flinch when he whips his head towards you before clicking his tongue, taking a slow-paced walk towards the gym. 
“Don’t tell me what to do.” 
With those sweet parting words, the spiker huffs once more in a way you almost thought was child-like, before you find yourself facing his back. 
Another big factor about you was you were a tad bit sensitive, meaning when anyone as much raised their voice at you, you found yourself on the verge of tears. When the boys at the last tournament were a little too pushy in getting your number, resorting to grabbing you by the wrist, you yelped a little too loudly- causing your Seijoh boys to step in to the situation accompanied by the cracking of their knuckles. 
You curse the growing lump in your throat before swallowing it down, taking your position to observe the practice. 
“Makki!” 
You grin a little bit as your team’s star setter hits a perfect set to his third-year friend, already forgetting about the previous events before- 
the collision seemed to happen slowly, your hands instinctively grabbing the first aid kit that held multiple ice packs as you rush towards the scene. 
The clipboard falls to the ground as your shoes find themselves in front of a groaning Makki, moving next to be in front of a growling Kyotani who seemed to have a large bruise growing on his calve from the fall. Shakily, you reach an arm out to lightly touch his shoulder as you see from your peripheral vision Mattsun and Oikawa aiding Hanamaki. 
“A-Are you alright...?” 
“Will you just leave me the fuck alone and flirt with all the goddamn team members like you usually do?” 
Your eyes widen. 
“You’re just here because you need a school activity right?” He continues, dark eyes glaring into you judgementally as your hand slackens back, arm falling at your side. “So what, just because you get to stare at guys all day you’re suddenly the boss of us? Give me a fucking break.” 
The silence that settled around the gym was so heavy you felt odd at how quiet the boys were. 
You’re the first to move, kneeling down slowly before opening the first aid kid, carefully placing an ice pack by his side a safe-distance away to where he could still reach it, seeing Oikawa reach a hesitant hand out to you from your now blurred vision as you stand to your feet. 
“Y/N...” 
“Iwa.” 
You turn, fighting the quiver in your shoulders and crack in your voice as the heat floods your eyes and down your cheeks before you can stop it. 
“U-Um...Carry on practice, will you? I’ve got to go to the bathroom...” 
Embarrassed and flustered, you wipe at your eyes as you feel everyone watching you pick up the pace to get out of there sooner, leaving the Seijoh team facing silence once again. 
Kyoutani scoffs at your retreat, not being able to hide the surprise in his features when the one man he respected suddenly had his practice shirt in his fist, pulling him towards his pissed-off expression to lessen the proximity. 
“What the actual hell is wrong with you?” Iwaizumi’s voice was genuinely questioning with an edge that seemed to promise death, scarily quiet to the point where Kyoutani felt a shiver. 
“Y/N hasn’t done you wrong in any way, has she?” Mattsun crosses his arms, obviously irritated as Hanamaki clenches his teeth at the way Kyoutani rolls his eyes, refusing to answer. 
“First you mess up the set- and now you go and make our manager cry? You must be real fun at parties.” Kunimi, surprisingly, scoffs as amusement and irritation twinkles in his usually bored eyes, knowing damn well Kyotani wouldn’t do anything to him with the third years around. 
“Listen.” Iwa growls as Oikawa jogs off in your direction to go find you. “I don’t give a shit if you’re on your period or what, but newsflash: We’re a team. A team that’s lucky to even have a manager like Y/N- so the next time you call her a slut in front of any of us?” 
Kyotani glances at the icepack, furrowing his brows. 
“I won’t hesitate to get the coach to keep you on the bench all season. Don’t forget that.” 
Iwa releases the tightened material, standing up before moving his voice to a volume to speak to the whole team. 
“Practice is almost over anyway. Be here tomorrow morning.” 
Kyotani growls, the growing pain in his calve becoming unnoticeable as the sound of multiple sneakers jogging past him sound, signalling the rest of the team were leaving the gym with him by his lonesome- 
a melting ice pack now in a gripped hand as a foreign emotion swirls around in the spiker’s stomach.
-------------------------------------------
“I’m not crying!” 
“You’re totally crying.” 
Iwa swats Oikawa for the second time that day, causing the brunette to groan as Matsukawa taps on the women’s bathroom door, Hanamaki leaning on the wall next to it. After instructing the underclassmen to head home to let them handle this, you now had four tall, scary-looking dudes (again, minus Oikawa) outside the women’s bathroom waiting for you. 
“Will you all just go home?” You groan through the door, dabbing at your now puffy eyes with cold water as you hear Iwaizumi audibly sigh. 
“Come out so we can at least make sure you’re okay.” Hanamaki calls through the door as you lean your back against the door, not wanting them to see you like this. 
“I’m fine. Thank you all for caring.” you respond softly, tapping your head back against the door. “Maybe this manager position isn’t for me.” 
“What?! You’re gonna let some little punk tell you what you should and shouldn’t be doing?” Mattsun exclaims, irritation evident in his voice at the thought of you giving up as you sigh, opening up the door as you manage a smile at the relief that floods their faces. 
“I don’t know. I shouldn’t...but what if he’s right?”
“I’m not.” 
You flinch at the voice, eyes widening as Iwa and Hanamaki simutaneously take a step in front of you as Kyotani takes limping steps towards the five of you. 
“No. Um...” You push them apart, surprising the both of them as you step through. “Let him speak.” 
“..............sorry.” 
“Wow. Give him a standing ovation, everyone.” 
Oikawa flinches, hiding behind you at the raise of Iwa’s hand as you find yourself smiling gently at the way Kyotani was looking everywhere else but you, your smile widening at the gripped and dripping ice pack in his hold. 
“I...” Kyotani coughs, embarrassment flooding his cheeks. “I shouldn’t have said those things. Sorry. I hurt my leg.” 
Despite the simplicity of his words, a beam spread across your face before you look down at said leg. 
“Will you let me wrap it for you?” 
Kyotani relaxes a little as you approach him, nodding once as the third-years smirk at the fact that you were beginning to have the newcomer as whipped for you as the rest of them were. 
“See you guys at practice tomorrow?” You ask with a now bright grin, supporting Kyotani with his arm wrapped around his shoulder as you turn towards the direction of the infirmirary. 
“Sure you don’t need us to come?” 
“He’s not dangerous.” You roll your eyes, causing Kyotani’s eyes to widen a fraction at your words before Oikawa’s groan sounds throughout the hall. 
“Does this mean even more competition?!” 
“You really are a piece of shit.” 
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fuchsiagrasshopper · 3 years
Text
Saturated
Author’s Note: Here it is, the long awaited one-shot that ended up a mini story in length. This wasn’t a planned idea, just something I went with and this is the result. I know this fandom is starting to shrink due to the show ending, but I hope those of you still here are having fun!
Masterlist
Summary/Pairing: Ivar x Reader In which Ivar thinks he’s found a daughter of the goddess Rán
Wordcount: 9642
Warnings:  Language, Angst, Smut NSFW
The night was warm and still when Ivar made his way down to the stretching shore. It was a difficult trek the older he became because he had to wade through the sand that seemed to double his weight and sap his strength. After all that effort, he was reminded why he put himself through such a trial when he came into the blessed solitude. When he was a boy he had found an old fishermen's dock that was no longer used, and it was a quiet place he could go without being bothered. Sometimes he would look out at the water and imagine all the lands that were waiting for him to bring them terror and glory. When he was feeling less ambitious after drinking with his brothers, he would lie back on the creaking boards of the dock and gaze at the stars and wonder if the gods were watching in forethought.
His mother told him it was the sea that would take him from her. Her eyes would grow empty yet full of sadness, and he could only watch without being able to comfort her. Ivar wanted to journey, and he assumed his mother's vision meant that either it was by ship or drowning that he would be taken. When one entered a longboat to go raiding, the chance of a storm crashing down was always a possibility, but it was a risk worth taking for honor and legacy. He loved his mother, more than anyone, but he could not stay in Kattegat forever. His fate was out there waiting, and he needed only to extend his hand to take it.
A sudden movement in the water broke his focus and he looked out over the dock to the rippling surface. His eyes adjusted, and he thought his mind had gone when he recognized the whites of a pair of eyes staring back at him. There was a person in the water, bobbing just to their nose above the surface. At first, Ivar reached forward with his hand. They must have been frozen to the bone in the frigid sea. Kattegat's waters never warmed, even in summer.
When he looked at his hand cast forward, he felt foolish. With his useless legs, he couldn't swim. His upper body strength might support him a moment or two, but then sink and be wrapped under in the weeds before he could take a breath. He withdrew his hand only to find the eyes were no longer where they should have been.
Ivar scooted closer to the edge of the dock, searching the black water for the face he thought he saw. He rubbed at his eyes. Perhaps he hadn't slept well enough, or maybe he had ingested something spoiled during the last meal. He chose to believe his senses were sharp. They had kept him alive this long, and while trying to match his brothers no less. His eyes did another sweep of the shore before he called out, "I know you're there. You should know you cannot hide from a son of Ragnar."
His legs that dangled over the pier were parted, and a figure came straight out from the water to rest its arms on his thighs. Ivar flushed when he saw the figure was womanly. A beautiful and terrifying face, with large silver eyes, peered up at him. He had mistaken you for a woman, but you were something more. The hair that tangled down to your waist dipped into the water, and below was not a pair of legs kicking. Black scales with a pearlescent shimmer. You were one of Rán's creatures, or perhaps a daughter to the goddess herself.
"Ragnarsson," You spoke, and he was struck dumb by your voice. "Few may hear the siren's song calling."
Ivar's eyes shot to your hand as it trailed up his leg. Your nails were long, and there was a transparent webbing between your fingers. What surprised him even more than your strange claws was how gentle your touch was. It was a caress barely felt through his trousers.
"Who are you?"
You smiled. "I am (Y/N)."
"I am Ivar."
"I know you," You replied, and your sweeping hand switched to cupping his cheek. "You have your father's eyes and spirit."
"You know Ragnar Lothbrok?" Ivar asked while leaning into your touch. Your hand was warm despite the brisk waters you waded in.
"I know many faces of your home. I like to watch and learn from your people. Your father was a gazer too, but his eyes were to the horizon. You search the stars and night sky."
When you began to pull away, Ivar grabbed your hand and brought it back to his face. "Do you know my brothers?"
"I have seen them, but my song does not reach their ears. You are unique."
Ivar simpered. He could hear what his brothers could not. While they were off in barns and clearings, playing under the skirts of thralls, he was alone in the quiet of the night with a goddess. The sea had chosen him, though youngest and deformed.
"Why have you sought me out?" He asked, desperate to have his hopes confirmed.
"I wish to talk with you, and learn more of your kind. But we must always meet under darkness, for many of your people would rather hurt me than trust me."
Ivar knew why. Fishermen told tales of beautiful women taking sailors to the water, down to the sea bed of Rán's hall, never again to surface. He did not think you had the malice to do such a thing to him.
"How do I know you'll return? Is this even real?"
He couldn't help the creeping doubt from springing forth, and you flashed him a look of pity before plucking the knife from his belt. That got his attention, and he lurched forward to reach for the thing, but you held no ill intent. Instead, you pulled your hair over your shoulder and cut free a length to give to him. It was softer than any wolf pelt, and he clutched it tight to his chest.
"Giving a lock of hair to another can be one's undoing, so believe that I will return or curse me should I ever be treacherous," You said, and you slid his knife back into place before dragging your hand down his thigh. His cock gave a twitch, and your grin told him you knew. "Farewell Ivar."
You slipped back into the water like a needle through silk, and he was only able to catch a glimpse of your tail before you disappeared into the deep.
ooOOoo
Ivar went back to the dilapidated dock every night, and true to your word you would be there waiting in the water. You only approached once he took his place at the end of the pier, and Ivar would keep his legs apart so you would come rest between them. As you spoke of things unimportant, he would weave his hand with yours, playing with your fingers and the thin membrane of webbing. You would return the affections with little pets of your own, and you always left a kiss to the corner of his mouth before parting.
The lock of hair you had given to him was always with him. He had braided it together into a bracelet that he wore everywhere on his wrist. If his brothers thought anything about it, they never voiced such concerns. Ivar presumed they figured he had found his own thrall to be with, and as distracted as they were with Margrethe, they didn't dig further into his affair. His mother had noticed the thing as well, and always she would give it a long stare. Ivar always anticipated her to ask, but she avoided mentioning it as if it were a matter too delicate to speak of.
Ivar wished he could bring you to meet his family if only to brag to his brothers that you had chosen him. But he knew that could never happen. They would fear that you were a deceiver after his life, and his mother would have you killed to keep him safe. She probably would never let him near water again.
"Ivar," You called, clasping both hands on either side of his face. "Your mind is elsewhere tonight."
"Sorry," He said, looking away momentarily. "I just was thinking what it would be like to live our lives together."
"Come with me to the water," You suggested, and you gave a small tug on his arm that scooted him closer to the edge. He almost let you drag him in before he grew hesitant and pushed back.
"I can't swim like this," He said, scowling at you and then his legs.
"I will keep you safe." Ivar searched your face for any deception, but he only saw your smile. "You don't trust me?"
"I do," He said quickly. "But I…"
You heaved yourself upwards on the dock until it was just the tip of your tail whipping strokes in the water. Ivar caught your bare torso against his chest, and he flushed as your breasts pressed up against him. You were practically sharing the same air, noses brushing together as you steadied yourself in his arms. Your eyes met and you breathed a laugh that eased his previous concerns.
"We won't go far. I just want to show you that your legs aren't the burden you think they are."
You weren't pleading, and Ivar was intrigued by your suggestion. He gave you a short nod, and that was all it took for you to wrap your arms around him and haul him down into the depths. Your strength was surprising, but the admiration was banished from his mind the moment the cold water soaked straight through to his blood. He thrashed his arms, grabbing for purchase at imaginary aids that weren't there. When he tried to let out a shout, he swallowed saltwater. The sea was going to take him, just as his mother feared.
No. You were there, and you had never left. Like a spark to wood, Ivar was enveloped in a new warmth, and he floated to the surface with your arms around him. He took his first breath of air, but his throat was raw and he sputtered and choked. Your lips closed over his while he continued to cough, and it was as if you pulled all of the water out from his lungs. He didn't know if it was a real kiss, but he wore a shy grin as you pulled away.
"Breathe," You instructed. "Breathe, and look up at the stars you love."
Ivar first looked back at the shore and realized you had kept your promise. You had only taken him out far enough so his feet wouldn't brush the sandy floor. He then craned his neck up to the sky and found the familiar sight of his stars. They were the same out in the water as they were on land, a comforting thought for when he would one day sail away from home. The sky would always be there.
"Lie back and let the water hold you," You whispered in his ear from behind.
Ivar didn't know when you had maneuvered around to his back, but he continued to put his faith in you as you guided him down gently into the water. He was lying face up with his body floating across the surface weightless and free. You joined beside him, and together you shared in the silent night, bathed in the moonlight with the motion of the sea carrying your bodies. Ivar forgot for a moment about his broken legs. Drifting there beside you, he felt whole.
"You didn't answer me before," He spoke up, and you watched him with curiosity. "About us living our lives together. Is it possible?"
"There are those of my people who have given up the sea's blessing to live on land. Some may even live among your kind, though I doubt you would recognize them."
"How did they do it?" Ivar was sure even the dumbest farmer in Kattegat would have noticed a child of Rán flopping about.
"When my people choose to live a life as a land dweller, they simply have to go ashore. The blessing of the sea will fade, and in place will be a soft and weak human body, " You explained, and you turned your eyes away from him. "But the sea is vengeful and she hates those who leave her waters. Once the blessing fades, we can never return to her currents, or else we would be reduced to nothing more than foam that settles into tide pools."
If you were to be together you would have to give up everything you knew to be with him. Ivar wanted to ask this of you, but he was afraid of your answer. Being a prince as well as his mother's favored son meant he never had to work for anything. What he wanted he got, and always in plenty. If you refused him, he feared the rejection and what his reaction could be. He wasn't beyond forcing you out from the water onto dry land if it meant keeping you for himself. Better to not ask now. It was too early to demand so much from you.
He heard you shift in the water, and you were at his side again while supporting his back with your strong hands. "You don't want to ask me?"
Ivar shook his head. "Not tonight. Maybe tomorrow."
"I know you will soon, Ivar. It's in your eyes, they darken with hunger."
"What would you say if I did?"
He let out a shiver as you righted him back into your arms, holding him in your embrace that let him know you were in control. "I would say that you could also give up your life to be with me. Right now, I could take you down there, and you would never again have to worry about dragging yourself upon the land."
The idea of never having to crawl again was tantalizing, something he had always wished for, and yet...even if he was with you, he knew he wouldn't forget all that he would leave behind. He wanted to show his people he could lead and conquer better than any man, even without working legs.
"I couldn't," He murmured.
"Then it is good I did not ask, and nor will you ask it of me. We will take comfort in the joy we have now, and forget everything else."
You met his eyes with your own. Silver, just like the treasures that were brought back over from raids. Ivar refused to fluster under your gaze, even though your peering felt like a piercing dagger. He wanted to appear self-assured, and not as some young lad who needed you to hold him. He pulled you close and planted a clumsy but heartfelt kiss. Your lips were cold but your mouth was warm, and he tried to keep up with your feverish pace as you devoured everything from the kiss.
When you clapped your hands on his cheeks, Ivar could feel himself trembling, and he knew it wasn't because of the kiss. Your mouth left him, and he tried to find your lips again. You placed a finger to his mouth to stop him and gave him a shake of your head. "You are like ice. I've kept you here too long."
"Not long enough," He retorted before sneaking another kiss on you.
You laughed while gently prying him back. "You have your father's confidence."
"Good, maybe you can find out what else of his I have." He gave you his best wolfish grin.
"We'll have our time," You promised, and you secured an arm around him before starting to swim back to shore.
The water seemed to grow colder as you glided through it and by the time you made it back to the pier, Ivar couldn't control his shivering. You urged him up onto the dock, and your concern had made you grow quiet. Ivar didn't mind that you fretted over his well-being, but he missed your smile.
"How will you make it back home?" You asked while looking over him to where the edge of the town was barely visible through the treeline. It was a long way off.
"I've travelled further," Ivar excused, though he had his trepidations. His damp clothes were sticking to him, and his hair felt like grass after the thawing in spring. The cold made his muscles tighten, and he wasn't looking forward to pawing at the ground with stiff hands.
"Go now, while you have the moon's light to guide you."
"When can I see you again?" It was becoming more difficult each time he had to leave you, and his thoughts revolved around when you could be together.
"I'll come back until I feel you no longer wish to see me." You reached your hand out to him, and Ivar took it, bringing it to his chest.
"That will never happen."
What he was saying must have been madness. Maybe you were Rán's daughter, and you had him under a spell. If you did, he didn't care. He would gladly stay under your enchantment. It was a warmth all his own, and a happiness he didn't have to share or contend with his brothers over.
"Goodnight my love." You placed your lips once more on his hand before returning to the sea.
Ivar did not watch after you as he usually would. It was a luxury he couldn't afford. The desperation to get inside by a fire drove him to turn towards home, and he struggled through the terrain as fast as his dragging would get him. He only passed by drunks and stragglers that did not give him a second glance upon realizing who he was. Ragnar's youngest son, the cripple. No one important.  
He huffed his way up the stairs of the Great Hall, nudging on the doors with his shoulder until they parted. A low fire was burning in the pit, and his mother was asleep on her throne. She was still all done up from the last meal, and he realized she must have waited up for his return. His guilt propelled him forward, and he went towards her instead of his room. Careful not to wake her, he collapsed on the furs at her feet where sleep found him quickly.
Ivar didn't know how long he had been asleep, but he was startled awake by screaming. It took him a moment to realize it was his voice shouting, and he had jack-knifed into a seated position, clutching at his lower right leg. He knew he had broken a bone, and his mother, who was alert at his side, knew it as well. She called for two able-bodied guards to take him back to his room, out of sight of the thralls who had now gathered. None of his brothers were about, and he was relieved to be spared the humiliation. The weakness of his body during moments like this was only for his mother and the healers.
He was placed down onto the fur-covered palette in his room with one of the guards already off to fetch a healer. His mother was already trying to soothe his agony with her words, and as she brushed the hair on his forward she grew a frown.
"You're burning up," She said, feeling his forehead and then his chest. And your clothes are damp."
He swatted softly at her hand, frustrated with her observations but with never enough ire to cause her any harm. "Go away."
"Ivar, where do you go? All of these nights you leave my sight and no one knows anything about it." She plucked at the bracelet of your hair on his wrist before he jerked it out of her reach. "Who is this woman you see?"
"Get out, please," He begged. Tears stung at the corners of his eyes, and he didn't know if it was from the fever or the pain in his legs.
He was spared any further argument from her when the healer entered with three other thralls to assist. With soft voices, they were able to make her leave, at least until they finished addressing his fracture. Ivar would have felt awful at banishing his mother from his side if he could summon any other thought that wasn't about the hurt he was feeling.
The trek back through Kattegat had proved to be too much, but he didn't regret the night spent with you. In the water under the stars, and in your arms sharing kisses was where he wanted to be. He kept those thoughts in mind as the healer got to work on setting his leg in place, slathering it in a warming salve before wrapping it tightly in bandages.
"My Prince, you will need to stay in bed for the next few days to give the bone time to mend."
He gazed up at the rafters of the ceiling with contempt. How was he supposed to stay put knowing you were out there waiting for him? He couldn’t let the time pass and risk losing you, but he would need help.
"Go and bring me Ubbe," He instructed one of the thralls who shuffled out of the room at his request.
The healer continued to try and force some foul brew down his throat that he cursed her for at every turn of his head. Ivar knew he was notorious for being difficult to treat, but this healer had stuck through the bad times at his side. He admired her tenacity. If the situation was reversed, he would have given up on himself a long time ago.
After he had taken a large enough dose of the revolting stuff, he was left alone. The medicine made his head foggy, and he drifted in and out of consciousness while waiting for Ubbe to arrive. His eldest brother was best suited for the task in mind because he was soft when it came to Ivar's condition. Hvitserk didn't care about his legs either way, and Sigurd made a point to disparage him at every turn so he was definitely out of the running. Ivar guessed they had to all be out to the hunter's cabin. Following the commotion he had caused in the morning, one of them would have heard about it by now if they had been in town. It was nothing new really. He was used to being left behind.
Just as he was about to slip into another fitful bout of sleep, his door was forced open and in came his brother. He looked out of breath from running at least half of the distance back. Poor, gullible Ubbe.
"What happened?"
"The usual," Ivar started to explain as he forced himself to sit up. "Another broken bone."
"Mother says you also have a fever," Ubbe retorted as he took a seat at the end of the palette.
Ivar groaned. He hadn't estimated that his mother would be playing watchdog. "She got to you already?"
"She's worried about you."
"What else is new? She always worries about me," He grunted out as his leg twitched in pain.
"It's not just her this time. We all are concerned. You disappear at late hours and you're always tired. Even Hvitserk has noticed, and haven't you realized that Sigurd no longer says anything to you? For him, that's practically a defeat."
Come to think of it, Ivar couldn't recall the last verbal sparring match he'd shared with his third brother. Had his time with you sapped him of his usual energy?
"I need your help with something."
"Alright," Ubbe agreed with a nod of his head. "What is it?"
"When night falls, I need you to go down to the water. There's an abandoned dock if you follow the shoreline westward. Wait there and call for (Y/N), and tell her what has happened to me."
"Is she the woman who gave you that?" Ubbe asked while indicating to the bracelet on his wrist."
Ivar nodded as he began to twirl the thing around. It meant more to him than an arm ring. It was proof you had chosen him. "She's a daughter of Rán."
"What do you mean?"
"You'll see for yourself when you meet her." He smiled something Ubbe couldn't understand.
"Feel better, brother," Ubbe said softly as he made his exit from the room.
Ivar could feel the headiness of the brew still working, as he was pulled into visions of you. Together you danced under the moonlight. He could recall the feeling of working legs even though he'd never had a pair before. You glided with him in his arms, but Ivar could not see if it was feet you stood upon or you had somehow managed to balance on the tip of your tail. The strangeness made him privy to the knowledge it was just a dream, but he allowed himself to be carried away in fantasy regardless.
Sometimes his mother would pop inside to have a check on him. Her long hands caressing his forehead and pushing back his hair made him feel like a boy again. The worry on her face had settled now that he was no longer writhing in pain. They only shared in a handful of words while the healer continued to tend to him. It was their special connection, a bond she did not have with his brothers.
When night came and darkness fell, Ivar sat himself up against the wall and waited for Ubbe to return with word of you. It was the first time in a long line of sneaking away that he didn't escape to go find you. A strange emptiness filled him at the thought, and he rubbed at his eyes to combat the sleep that threatened to take him. He couldn’t miss the update about you because he had fallen asleep.
A thin stream of silver light poked through a cut out in the roof of his room, and he imagined you in the water beneath the stars. He wondered what your reaction would be to learning of his injury. Concern he hoped, and not pity or regret for the night they had shared.
As Ivar's thoughts began to spiral out, he was relieved from further gloom when the door opened. Ubbe had returned, and he had on a perplexed frown that furrowed his brow.
"Well, did you speak with her?" Were the first words out of Ivar's mouth.
Ubbe shut the door behind him before coming further into the room. "I called for (Y/N) and waited on that pier, but no one ever came, Ivar."
He took a moment to juggle that information in his head while Ubbe looked on with worry. You never showed. Had something happened to you? Perhaps you were riddled with guilt about taking him in the water or you had seen Ubbe from a distance but did not approach. That had to be it. His brother was a stranger who did not hear your song as he had.
"I have to go there."
Ivar threw the furs off and started to twist to the side. His broken leg protested the rapid movement, and he grunted through his struggle. Ubbe was already at his side pushing him back. He latched onto his brother's arm and tried to shove him off, but even his upper strength had waned and he ended up flopping back down like a lifeless fish.
"You can't leave this room like that," Ubbe scolded. He took a seat down beside him, preventing him from trying something foolish again. "You'll end up losing that leg entirely."
"What's that matter? I'd be no worse off than I am right down."
Ubbe sighed. "I understand you care about this (Y/N), but I don't believe she would want to see you harm yourself this way."
Ivar knew you wouldn't. That's why he had to see you again and be surrounded by your love. "You could take me there."
"We'd never make it past the throne. Mother has seen fit to have eyes on who comes and leaves your room. I think she is looking for the woman to blame."
"(Y/N) won't come here," Ivar said and he could see the confusion on Ubbe's face, but he didn't elaborate. "I've probably lost her forever now."
"If she truly cares for you, she'll still be there," Ubbe argued, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. "When you are well enough, I promise I'll help you back to the dock."
Ivar knew from past experiences that it would take many moons before he'd be fully healed. His eyes closed as angry tears threatened to fall. Why had the gods cursed him with these horrible limbs? The faults of his parents should not have fallen onto him. It was a cruel fate.
When he didn't continue to speak, Ubbe must have assumed he had fallen back asleep. He crept back to the door and exited the room as softly as a mouse scuttles through the kitchen.
Once he was alone, Ivar opened his eyes and took off the bracelet from around his wrist. He held it close to his lips, feeling the silk strands as he kissed the braided band. Maybe you could sense him reaching out. He decided to keep it enclosed in his hand and across his heart. If you were calling out, he would feel you in his sleep.
ooOOoo
In the many days that went by, Ivar became more frustrated with his leg. His broken bone was mending, but not fast enough that he was allowed out of the great hall. The slow progress had him taking out his anger on everyone, and they must have felt as trapped in with him as he was feeling about being locked up.
After a brief appearance to sit down to a meal with their mother, he had not seen his brothers again. This time he could admit he was to blame, and that they made the smart decision to cut and run back to the cabin. He had made the meal as uncomfortable as he could manage out of some need for vengeance. While they were free to run about Kattegat with their thralls, he was stuck in bed with wrinkled healers painting noxious salves on his body. He couldn’t be with you, so he chose to be spiteful.
Even his mother began to show signs of being fed up with him. Her smiles were now close-lipped, and she would linger by the door when she visited to make a hasty exit. He had yelled at her only once, and it had to do with her wanting to leave him just like everyone else. Ivar knew that wasn't true, and the moment she let out an anguished sob he had apologized.
Rather than continue to hurt those around him, he knew what he had to do. His leg was well enough that he could crawl again, and if he secured it tightly in his leather bindings it should protect the bone from any trauma as he moved. He had to get down to the pier himself and find you again. The call from the sea had him more desperate for water than a man dying of thirst. No thrall or guard would dare refuse him, and even his mother would not be able to stop him from going. He was doing this for her as well, even if she wouldn't see it that way. After causing her tears, he wouldn't be the reason for any more of her sorrow.
He needed the light to travel, so he began the trek from his room when the sun had only just begun to kiss the horizon. Much of the activity in the great hall had died down once the last meal had been served, and many of the thralls had already gone off to the barn. His mother was not on her throne. Ivar smirked at his good fortune and made for the doors as fast as he was able. Once he had them nudged shut behind him, he began his descent down the stairs. It was the most difficult part of the journey, guiding his body down feet first so his leg wouldn't bounce on every step down.
By the time he had cleared the treeline, the sun had set further and shadows were popping up in every corner. Ivar was more winded than he would normally be due to being bedridden, and he was mindful that he would have to work on building back the strength he had lost. But none of that mattered now. The dock was in sight. He had made it. He went together well with the solitude of the place, and when he sat perched on the end the creaking boards welcomed him home.
"(Y/N)," Ivar called out while searching for any ripple in the water. The surface remained still as glass, and he frowned while giving your name another shout.
Perhaps it was still too young in the day. He waited for the complete pitch of night to hit while letting his mind run wild with all the things he wanted to tell you about. It would be like a reunion of two lovers, and he couldn't fathom how one could be separated from their woman while gone on raids. Of course, his mother and father detested one another's presence, so it must have come as a balm to be away from one another.
The clouds parted from the moon, and one by one the stars surfaced in the sky. He called for you again, then held his breath to listen for any break in the water. Instead, he heard the crunch of footsteps behind him, and over his shoulder, he saw Ubbe approaching.
"I figured you would try coming back soon," Ubbe said once he stood at his side. "How's the leg?"
"Stiff," He replied tersely. "What do you want?"
Ubbe took an uninvited seat beside him which caused Ivar to shift over. There wasn't nearly enough room at the edge of the dock for both of them, and the wood groaned with the added weight.
"I never told you, but I've been coming back here every night after you sent me to search for (Y/N)."
Ivar frowned. "Why?"
"Because I saw how important it was to you to get that message to her, and I wanted to help. I might not be able to take away your pain, but I will still be your legs where I can."
Ivar looked at his lap as the heat built up in his face. He never knew how to take to his eldest brother's kindness. None of the rest of them had it, but from Bjorn's mouth, it was said that he inherited it from Ragnar.
"She never came back, did she?"
Ubbe shook his head. "She must only come for you."
"I don't think so," Ivar said as he looked out at the water. "It's been too long, and I've missed my chance. I don't think she'll come back."
"If she cares for you as you do her, I'm certain she'll be back."
Ubbe's words floated off him as he gazed down at the black water. He was struck with an irrational idea to force your hand if you were near. Before his brother could react, Ivar threw himself off the dock and into the water. It wasn't deep this close to shore, but it was enough that he began to sink. Ubbe was quick to follow, and Ivar tried in vain to bat away his saving hands. He was so desperate to have you come back that he would risk drowning. What a fool.
"Idiot," Ubbe cursed as he dragged them both up onto the sand. "What were you trying to do?"
Ivar turned his head away as he coughed up water. He felt embarrassed by what he'd just done and angry that it didn't earn him anything more than soaked clothes. "You wouldn't understand."
"I don't understand, and you won't help me to," Ubbe said, and his tone lightened from annoyance to mild irritation. "I need my little brother back. The one who's smarter than me at every turn, and doesn't make me fish him out of the sea."
Ivar started to laugh. It began in a quiet snicker and grew deep from his belly until Ubbe joined him. Neither of them knew what the humor was in the situation, but Ivar felt it was better to give in to the urge. He wanted to forget you weren't there, and giggling like a child with his brother in the sand was a good way to accomplish that.
"Should we head back?"
Ivar gave his leg a tug with his hand. "The bandage has soaked through and is starting to fall off. Guess I'd better have it looked at."
Ubbe crouched down beside him and indicated for him to climb up on his back. "C'mon, it'll be faster."
For once Ivar didn't argue. He couldn’t benefit from another disagreement, and he didn't want to be in wet clothes longer than he had to. Ubbe or Floki were the two he trusted most to support him. Hvitserk had dropped him one time, and he refused to let that happen twice. Sigurd never offered.
Once he was secured up to Ubbe's height, they started back home. He chanced one last look over his shoulder for as long as the water was in sight, clinging to the idea that you would spring up from the depths. The only movement out there came from the wind and the tide.
Neither brother spoke another word, but Ivar suspected Ubbe knew he had taken that last glance. How could he not? He wasn't ready to give up on you or accept the idea that you had abandoned him. Thoughts of you being in harm came to him, and he to banish those away because of the helpless feeling they gave him. You were a daughter of Rán, and the sea couldn't hurt you. Repeating it enough times had to make it true. As they journeyed through the night back to Kattegat, Ivar clung to the hope of seeing you again, and his thoughts warmed him up and dulled the pain until he found rest.
ooOOoo
Time passed by for Ivar and the pain in his legs dulled back into its usual ache. With his bone mended he could return to training with his brothers, and hunting up by the cabin. While his physical injury may have healed, it was not so for the throbbing in his heart. He had gone for sparse visits to the abandoned dock again, with each ending in the same sorrow until he had decided to give up going back. What's more, your bracelet that he had never let out of reach had vanished one day. Perhaps you had never been real, and he had dreamed you up.
What more could the gods take from him? First, it was his legs, then his father, and recently he was drifting from his brothers due to their infatuation with Margrethe. It was his mother he looked to as his constant, but she had grown distracted by visions. It was now common practice for her to disappear to her room after the last meal, when not so long ago she would be the last to leave with a chalice of wine. All of this left Ivar alone, and his thoughts had become unbearable. He needed something to dull the noise, a distraction.
More than anything Ivar longed to keep up with his brothers, and that's when he decided he wanted to fuck a woman. He approached Ubbe with the request to convince Margrethe. She had a pleasant face, and she didn't resemble you. If she had taken three of the other sons of Ragnar, he should be no different. Ubbe appeared torn when he first asked but did agree, and Margrethe was hardly in a position to refuse.
Now that the moment was approaching, and he was being brought over to the cabin by boat, he wondered if he would be the one to refuse. From what he'd always seen, men loved to hump a beautiful woman. It's what led to his parents' affair and marriage. So what was wrong with him that as he grew closer to the destination he felt ill? Ubbe certainly wasn't sharing the sentiment. He wore a dumb grin and was humming an old song to himself.
"You're happy I'm about to lay with your woman?" Ivar asked.
Ubbe laughed. "Margrethe isn't my woman, she's still a thrall. But I am happy because this is a good day for you, brother."
The day is still young, Ivar thought with a bitterness that was ingrained in his bones. Was sex such a powerful thing that it would shift who he became? Other than to have children, Ivar never dwelled on the matter. He'd never had a lover, and the closest he had come to obtain such a relationship was with you.
The boated jilted back and forth as it hit shallow water. Ubbe tied off by a tree before coming to fetch him. He was to be carried by his brother to his first tryst with a woman. Not nearly as humiliating as crawling he supposed, but the difference was negligible.
As they passed through the threshold of the abandoned cabin, Ivar stole a look around the place. It smelt like fire and driftwood, and there was a bed that had been piled thick with furs. The flame burning in the hearth let him know that Margrethe was already there.
Ubbe deposited him down on the bed and turned to get a look at him. "I'll leave now so you can be ready for her. Relax and enjoy yourself."
Ivar swallowed. That was easy for any of his brothers, they all had working parts. A handful of times he had felt his prick twitch and stiffen, but it was never a long event and he had never dared to try to take himself in hand. It was silly, but he was afraid of his cock.
He began to disrobe with haste, not wanting Margrethe to walk in on him without his trousers and his legs exposed. Once he was free of his garments he threw the heavy furs over himself and clutched them at his waist. All he could hear was his heart pounding, and he kept his chin tucked into his chest, straining to listen for the woman in the cabin.
She came to him from behind in light, cautious steps. Perhaps she was nervous, or his trepidations had seeped into the air and spoiled the mood. Ivar resisted the urge to peek until she stood at the side of the bed. When he glanced up he saw that she wore a fisherman's net as a veil. Her features were distorted, but he could make out the subtle difference that alluded to her being anyone other than Margrethe.
"(Y/N)?" He whispered and hoped.
You lifted back the thin mesh from your face, and you put on a dazzling smile. Ivar had never seen a better sight, not the first sacrifice of spring or the storms of Thor could hold a candle up to you. You donned a crisp white gown that was cinched at the waist with a strap of brown leather, and your hair was a wild tangle of waves. He had never seen you without your sodden tresses.
You took your first step to come closer, but you lost your balance and fell onto the bed in his awaiting arms. This was where you belonged.
"Shit," You cursed, pulling back enough to look him in the eye. "I was supposed to be beautiful and graceful, but these legs are too light. If I run fast enough, I'm sure I could soar like a bird."
"You have legs?" Ivar exclaimed while pulling you onto the bed beside him with all of the strength he could summon. "Let me see."
You swung your legs across his lap, careful not to rest any weight on his thighs. He hitched the skirt of your dress up to your thighs, exposing the new flesh. His hands didn't know where to touch first. This must be the work of the gods. In place of your magnificent tail were two gorgeous limbs that he was happy to smooth his hands over. You wiggled your toes, content to observe Ivar as he studied you.
"How is this possible?"
"I told you my people can choose to abandon the sea. Now I'm a soft creature like you," You said while giving his arm a playful squeeze.
He caught your hands before you could pull away and placed a kiss on each of them. They no longer had the webbing or claws, but there was a strength to them that he could feel under your touch. "Where did you go? I tried so many times to find you, and I even sent my brother."
"You had your life up here, and I had mine below," You said as your eyes grew vacant. "When I did return to the surface, I could no longer find you. All of these things left unsaid caused us to miss each other."
"Then why are you here now, like this?"
You reached for his wrist, finding it bare. Ivar knew what you searched for. "You no longer have my precious gift. Did you think I turned treacherous?"
"I misplaced it. I would never have thrown it away, even if I thought you'd left me."
"I know," You said as you ran a hand down his bare chest and over his heart. "You were in more pain than I understood that night. The blue in your eyes."
Ivar tensed. "How did you learn about that?"
"Your mother told me."
"My mother…" Ivar knew his mouth was hanging open in question, and he snapped it shut to regain composure.
"She found your bracelet. It was her voice I could hear beckoning me to the land. She must be a powerful woman to do such a thing."
You didn't have any animosity in your voice, but Ivar couldn't help but feel angry for you. His mother had taken your life from the sea by force. He had considered the heinous deed himself for a time, but he would have never risked your resentment. What if that came to pass now that the unthinkable had happened?
Ivar couldn't keep himself from looking at you now. He wouldn't let you go a second time. "She said the sea will take me. Perhaps you are meant to stop that from happening."
"Or maybe I am the sea," You said, shifting your hips as you hovered over his lap. With a firm shove you had him down flat on the furs, and he nearly lost his air as your thighs squeezed at his waist. "Come to take you myself because I couldn't stand the thought of that Margrethe touching you."
And then Ivar realized...Ubbe had known he was taking him to you. You had been on land long enough to learn to walk and find out about his pathetic setup with the thrall. His face flushed and he turned his head to the side before feeling your fingers grasp his chin. You tilted his face back around, and he saw only tenderness.
"I know the weariness from being alone. My heart has been there as well."
"You'll stay?" Ivar knew he sounded a touch petulant, but he did not want to suffer another morning with you vanishing.
"Until the gods bring you home and the sea turns me to froth, I will remain by your side, Ivar Ragnarsson."
He didn't know who's lips touched first, but when your mouths connected, it was like being awash on the deck of a ship. You were a cool drink of water with the tang of salt, and Ivar threaded his hands through your hair. The more his hold tightened, the more it pulled him in like reeds in a marsh.
You withdrew slowly, and you held his gaze, even when he wanted to look away from the thrill of what you'd just done. With careful hands, you shed the veil from your head, and then the dress, all collecting into one pile on the floor with his garments. You were naked before him. All of your scales were gone in place of smooth flesh and pleasing curves. Ivar knew he was gaping at your breasts, how they rose and fell with each rapid breath you took. As you gave a coy grin, you peeled back one corner of the furs and slithered your way in beside him. You pressed up against his side, and his body went taut as you tangled your legs with his.
"Is this alright?" You asked while your toes brushed up and down his shin.
"Yes," He said as a puff of air escaped him.
It was stifling hot under the covers, and your hand seemed to sear his flesh as you dragged it up to his thigh. Your fingers just teased next to cock before brushing up his abdomen. Ivar shifted, his hand reaching yours to halt your motions.
Your eyes flashed to his, and you smiled with patience. "Tell me what you want."
"I…" He paused, unable to form the words, and he could feel himself losing his nerve. With a tighter grasp, he took control of your hand and brought it back down to his half-hard prick. "I just want you."
"You have me," You murmured back as your hand began to fondle his shaft. He continued to grow in your hand, and Ivar let his eyes roll back at the feeling of you working him. His cock had never been so stiff, and his free hand clutched at the furs as he tried to recognize everything he was feeling. Fluid was beginning to bead out at his tip, and he struggled to push you back.
"S-stop," He sputtered.
You pulled back with a shy expression, and you were breathing just as hard as he was. You enjoyed what you could do to him. "Are you alright?"
Ivar bobbed his head, not sure if he agreed or not with your question. "I was losing control too soon, and I haven't even touched you yet."
"Is that all?" You rolled yourself on top of him, pushing back the furs while the cold air of the room pebbled your nipples. Ivar looked up at you in awe. "Touch me then."
Your slick center was rubbing on the base of his shaft now pressed up against his stomach, and he could feel his hips give a few practiced ruts. He saw the flash of delight in your eyes, and you hummed out a moan that was as long as a horn that bellowed in war.
"I'm still adjusting to this new body," You panted. "I've never felt like this before."
Ivar felt a strong sense of pride for bringing you these new experiences along with him. Even though he lacked the skill, he had a newfound confidence that had him reaching for you. His hands felt rough and clumsy against your untouched skin, squeezing and pawing to see how much pressure to apply and where. Your breasts were soft and pliable while your backside was firm and rounded, and you leaned further into him as he grasped onto your cheeks. You placed a wet kiss in the hollow of his throat that had him moaning. He wondered if you could hear his heart racing.
"Please," He choked. "I need to feel you."
Your hand reached down between your bodies, and you pulled back to watch his face as you clutched his cock. Lining it up with your slippery center, you brought your cunt down to the hilt. Ivar was under no delusions that he would last long or immediately be worthy of infamy in bed like his brothers, but being surrounded by your wet heat, he thought he'd cum right then. As you sat up straight to readjust, he let out a gasp. You did too, only when his eyes cracked open to get a look at you, your eyes were shut and your face was screwed up in pain.
"What's wrong?"
"Is it supposed to hurt like this?" You whimpered, hands grabbing at his chest. It seemed everything about your human body was new.
"For human women, it does the first time." He wrapped his arms around you and spun you down onto the bed with himself still connected between your legs. It would be difficult for him to manage this way long, but it would be better for you this time. "I've got you."
Your eyes were blurry from unshed tears, but he could feel you relax in his arms as he began to set a slow pace. On the first withdrawal of his cock he could see a small amount of blood seep out which he regretted feeling thrilled about. You were his now, and he was yours.
The strength in your legs was unmatched, and as you grew more comfortable you squeezed at his waist with your knees. He knew his end was already in sight from the tightening in his balls and the burning in his gut. You had thrown your head back, hair tousled and mouth open to show your sharp teeth. It was the only telltale sign that you weren't a human, and he bought his lips down on yours to explore the fangs with his tongue. You teased back with little nips, and you gave a harsh tug on his hair that separated him from the sloppy kiss.
"Fuck," He breathed out, and his hips began to lose rhythm. "I can't go much longer."
You ran a hand meant to soothe down his back, but it only spurred him on. His hips snapped at a frenzied pace with his thighs smacking against yours. Nothing could stop him chasing the feeling of his release, and with a few more pumps he felt himself empty deep inside you with a profane groan. All of the strain he'd put on his arms to keep from balancing on his legs gave out, and he collapsed on top of you. Your hot skin stuck to his, and he could feel you twitch beneath him.
"Sorry," He whispered embarrassedly. He rolled off of you and his cock made a wet pop as it slipped out from your folds. "You didn't get to finish."
You rolled onto your side to look at him, still breathing fast and on the precipice of your release. "Forget that. This was about you getting to enjoy me tonight."
Ivar shook his head as he turned into you. "But I want you to enjoy me as well."
His hand dove for your core, chubby fingers fumbling around in your wet pussy that was now a mix of your blood and his cum. This was the first time he had felt a woman's warmth, and he watched your reaction as he felt around your lips and the tiny bud at the top. When he stroked over it with his thumb your legs jerked and you whined. He continued to swirl his digit around the nub while experimenting with varying degrees of pressure. You were now experiencing his love for you, and he could read what you enjoyed most with how expressive you were with your body. He settled into a comfortable pattern, and your hand shot down to join his when he hit a perfect cadence.
"Yes...there," You cried.
Ivar plunged his longest finger into your depths as you began to wither and shake. He could feel your pussy clamp down on him as you came, and he knew he wanted to feel that on his cock next time. Your eyes blinked rapidly as you started to calm, and he withdrew his hand, only to bring it to his mouth for a taste. You watched him in rapt attention.
"A warrior tastes the blood of his enemies in battle, so should he not also taste his lover's in bed?"
You brought your hands back together with his and pulled yourself against his chest. "If the gods willed it, then let it be so."
You laid in silence together, and Ivar felt your little puffs of air even out as you fell asleep. He pulled a fur over the both of you, the fire had long gone low and the night air colder. Indeed the gods must have willed it. Ivar now knew he was favored by the gods above all other sons of Ragnar. You were a daughter of Rán, and you had chosen him. His mother knew it as well, or else she wouldn't have summoned you back into his arms. In his heart, he had already forgiven her for taking the bracelet.
The sea had come to take him, and he had gone willingly into the mouth of the current. It was comfortable there, like a never-ending waterfall over rocks beating him down onto your altar. You opened it up and took him in, and now you were both drenched.
The cabin grew cold and black, and Ivar went to sleep beside you that night with the comfort that the stars still shined overhead, and that when dawn came he would not have to face another day without you.
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401 notes · View notes
aries-writingblog · 3 years
Text
Child’s Play
Summary: Steve is falling fast for a girl that he’s only been on a few dates with (I suck at descriptions🤦🏻‍♀️)
Word Count: 1968
Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader
Warnings: none
AN: GIF is not my own, credit to original creator
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“All I’m saying is that you should really consider bringing that uniform back.” She nodded, wiping her fingers delicately on her napkin. Steve cocked an eyebrow, trying not to smile too broadly. “It did wonders for you.”
Steve lowered his eyes, heat creeping onto his face. It was a good embarrassment, though. He couldn’t remember when he last laughed so hard. Even if it was at himself. He had to agree the things he did once were a little cheesy.
“You we’re supposed to pay attention to the message. The videos had a message.” He scolded lightly, dipping a fry in his ketchup. YN scoffed, stealing two fries from the plate and dunking them in her milkshake. Steve scrunched his nose in distaste.
“I was in high school, dude. And you were hot, what was I supposed to do?” She grinned as his cheeks shifted from a shade of pink to a deeper shade of maroon. “It was detention and I was bored. I had to think of something or I’d lose my mind.”
Steve tried not too think too hard about the age difference. It jarred him to take into consideration she watched the stupid patriotic videos he had to film in her high school days. He focused mainly on the present age gap of only a few years. Not the seventy year gap.
“Okay, if I see one more fry go into that milkshake, I’ll flip this table.” Steve threatened, eyeing the drink suspiciously. YN laughed, a bright giggly sound Steve had come to enjoy.
This would be their fourth date. He had the idea to take her to an old diner he’d stumbled upon. Mainly because it had been around in his day- the coffee was still outrageously disgusting. He wasn’t sure how they’d managed to keep the same flavor the whole time but the moment it touched his tongue, Steve was thrown back into his youth.
“Just try it.” She demanded, shoving her glass across the table. He lifted his eyebrows, glancing between her and the chocolate milkshake.
“Absolutely not. The fries get soggy in there- I know they do.” He explained, observing as she rolled her eyes. Slumping back into the booth in playful defeat. “You enjoy that?”
“Uh, yeah. Get with it, gramps.” She dusted her hands off, placing her phone and wallet on the table. “I’m gonna run to the bathroom really quick- watch my stuff?”
“Yeah- of course.” Steve watched her as she stood, pulling at her shirt before starting towards the bathroom. He then turned his attention to their mostly finished plates, stacking them neatly to one side of the table.
Just as he went to catch a waitresses attention, he looked around. They were the only two customers remaining. Steve felt the guilt immediately, seeing the women cleaning around their table. They had been so distracted he had forgotten time could pass. He flicked his wrist, checking his watch. They had been at the restaurant for way too long.
YN emerged from the restroom just at the same moment he stood to approach the register. She noticed he had taken her things, tucked in his jeans pocket. So she found her way to his side, curling her arm around his and hugging it to her chest.
He finished paying, apologized several times to the wait staff for taking the booth for so long. She had brushed it off, telling him it had been a pleasure to serve Captain America himself. Steve still felt guilty, leaving a very large tip for her.
“Ready?” He asked, turning to face YN. She gave an enthusiastic nod, clinging to him as they walked to the door. He pushed it open, holding it for her.
“It’s so late- I don’t think we’ll ever catch a cab.” YN checked her phone, the time shining up at her.
“I’ll walk you home. It’s not that far, if you’re up for it?” He offered. Steve watched as she frowned at the device in her palm, the streetlight gleaming down onto her hair. Giving her face an ethereal glow, eyes sparkling. Her lipgloss was incredibly distracting- shimmering and glittering under the lights.
“Steve?” She asked. He jolted, breaking his stare as he realized he had been zoned out while she was speaking. The heat crept back into his cheeks; He never seemed to get rid of it around her. It was always lurking under his skin, readily revealing itself at any moment.
“What?” She laughed.
“I said that I’d take that escort home, if it doesn’t put you out of your way.” She repeated. Steve shook his head immediately.
“You’re never out of my way, sweetheart.” In truth, her apartment was seventeen blocks to the east of the diner. The Tower was nineteen from the diner, to the north. Steve would’ve done pretty much anything to keep her with him longer, even walk the entire length. Carry her if she wanted.
“I just don’t want to keep you.” Her hand found his forearm again, slithering down to his hand. Her fingers twined with his and he squeezed her hand gently. “You had mentioned that you had to get up early tomorrow. I don’t want to make you late.”
“It’s just some work. Nothing drastic. Can’t leave until I get there anyways.” He assured her, their sides bumping together as their strides evened out. It was practically true- it was work and it wasn’t drastic. He had to leave early for a stake out mission with Natasha. She would eventually forgive him, if not immediately. “I might be gone for a couple weeks… I’m not sure how long it will take.”
“That’s okay.” She shrugged, swinging their arms between their bodies. “Just means our next date can be even better, cause we’ll be really excited to see each other.” Steve smiled, his free hand finding his front pocket. He was always excited to see her.
They fell silent for a moment- something that didn’t happen often. YN was a regular chatterbox when she was excited. And as far as Steve could tell, she was always excited to be around him. He didn’t mind, he loved hearing her voice. Liked listening to her. Telling him fun facts, stories, asking questions, going off on tangents. It was always amusing, watching her face go through several ranges of emotions during her stories. Hands gesturing vibrantly.
“So you’re gonna let me hang around for another date?” Steve asked, risking a glance to her. A light smile on shining lips.
“I may.” She nodded. “Depends.”
“On?” Steve pressed, nudging her with his elbow. YN pursed her lips, feigning concentration with her eyes rolling to the side.
“Well, if I finally get a good night kiss I might let you stick around.” She teased. Steve chuckled, shaking his head. He’d wanted to kiss her the first night, but didn’t want to scare her away. He was still unsure on twenty first century mannerisms, caught in between the centuries. Wanting to move into the current for her, but clinging onto the values instilled in him growing up. Remembering the awkward dates he had with girls. How he never really knew what to do.
But now that she had mentioned it, Steve figured it would be safe to push his luck.
Suddenly, YN gasped and yanked his hand- jeering off course. His feet hit grass as she released his hand. Steve looked up, seeing a playground laid out before them.
“What are you doing?” He followed her at a slower pace, watching as she leapt up. Hands catching on a set of horizontal bars. She twisted upward, hanging down by her knees.
“What- you’ve never played on a playground at midnight before?” She demanded, pushing her shirt back down. Steve laughed, standing in front of her, hands on his hips.
“Not that I can remember.” She released her hold on her shirt, hands reaching out to him. The fabric fell back down, bunching around her chest. A snippet of her dark red bra peeking over the edge. Steve snatched the end and shoved it back upward, covering her torso. “You’re gonna get hurt, YN.”
“Not if I have a superhero boyfriend here to save me.” She argued, leaning back up to take the bars. “Come on, Stevie- let loose for a while.”
He sighed, meeting her eyes as she turned herself right side up. Dangling by her hands. She gave him a pout, eyes twinkling in the park lights.
Steve stepped to her left, tucking his loose t shirt into his belt. Ensuring his hands were clasped tightly around the metal bars before pulling himself up and hanging beside her.
“There you go, now- pull your feet up and hook your knees around a bar and you can hang.” She instructed, then quickly giving him a visual reenactment. He picked it up easily, releasing his grip and turning his body upside down to hang beside hers. “You’re doing it!”
YN wiggled her body happily, figure swinging wildly. Steve reached out, hands on her waist to steady her, worried she would tilt or lose her grip.
“Take it easy, YN.” He squeezed her hips as she laughed. “I don’t think a date should end with an emergency room visit.”
“Then you definitely haven’t been on a really good date.”
“Should I be worried about that statement?”
“I wouldn’t think about it too hard.”
“Oh, for sure.” He smiled, feeling the blood begin to rush to his head. His face felt tingly as he hung beside her, pins and needles pricking at his skin. “We should probably start back, it’s getting late-“
Steve felt her hands grasp his shirt, pulling him closer. YN’s lips brushed against his before planting firmly. He grunted in surprise, hands clasped to his chest, between hers. She moved her lips slowly, gently. He could taste her lip gloss- mix of cherry and vanilla flooding his system with error messages. Brain flashing a ‘vacant’ sign before his consciousness.
“I don’t know if you’re a really good kisser or if all my blood rushed to my head but I’m really lightheaded.” She murmured, not even allowing him to go far as she spoke, lips still touching.
His wide blue eyes stared gleefully into hers, swinging himself down to his feet. Reaching to help her back to the ground next. YN huffed, readjusting her shirt before leaning to pick up her phone that had slid from her pocket whilst upside down.
“Y’know, I think my research isn’t complete yet- still not sure which caused the lightheadedness.” She pressed a finger to her lips, the gloss smudged down her chin. Steve narrowed his eyes at her grin.
“Now you’re just trying to get me to kiss you.” He clarified, able to see through her actions easily. She shrugged, as if to say ‘you caught me!’
“Only if it’s working.”
Steve chuckled, one hand grasping the back of her neck while the other found a place on her waist. Pulling her body to his. She stumbled forward, colliding with his chest as he angled her mouth up to his. Leaning down to meet her height. He pressed them together, cradling her body. His fingers tangled in her hair. YN’s fingers curled into his shirt, finding purchase in the fabric. He felt her lips curl upward in a smile, still pressed to his.
He pulled back, keeping his eyes on her face as he did. A happy, dazed smile on her features- eyes crinkled in the corners. Her fingers drummed against his chest in time with his heartbeat as she ripped herself away. Breaking into a full sprint across the grassy playground.
“Race you to the swings!” She shouted over her shoulder, feet pounding the ground.
Steve chuckled. For once, he didn’t feel the need to be an adult, to be the mature, responsible one. He could turn everything off- even if only for a few minutes. Even if it was something as simple as sprinting across a playground with a girl that was slowly changing his life and perspective. He decided he liked that feeling.
“You asked for it, sweetheart!”
125 notes · View notes
robininthelabyrinth · 3 years
Text
Targets - ao3
- Chapter 3 -
Meng Yao wasn’t supposed to be for sale.
His mother had worked hard her whole life to make sure of it, refusing every offer for him no matter how tempting or how desperate their situation. He was a cultivator’s son, she told him, a sect leader’s; one day, he would return to his father’s side, and if he was going to do that, he couldn’t have his past be marred with scandal. He couldn’t have a slave contract, and he couldn’t have done any work as a whore – it was one thing to do odd jobs in a brothel, but another thing entirely to actually work on your back, and somehow, somehow, someone would find out, and he’d be ruined. They would know.
The only way for him to really make it is if he never did anything like that at all.
So when the cultivator – a real cultivator, from the looks of him, not one of the fakers they often got – walked into their brothel and asked for Meng Yao, his mother said no.
The man frowned, then turned to the owner of the brothel who shrugged, indicating that he was helpless. “The boy doesn’t belong to this establishment,” he said apologetically. “But if the venerated Immortal would prefer something more boyish, I can direct you to some of our more masculine girls, or to a neighboring establishment…”
His voice trailed off when the cultivator pulled out a large chunk of gold, about half the size of Meng Yao’s thumb.
“You can keep it all – if I get the boy, a room, and your word to tell no one else that either of us are here,” the man said.
“No!” Meng Shi exclaimed, but Meng Yao knew from the look on the brothel owner’s eyes that it was too late. This wasn’t a good brothel like the one they’d been in before – the one that had kicked them out when they decided his mother was too old and her health too poor – but a lower tier one, less rich and more desperate. A piece of gold like that was more money than all the girls put together would make in a year.
If they continued to refuse, the owner of the brothel would use force. There were the bully boys at the door – they would grab his mother and drag her away, grab him and throw him into the room, maybe tie him down, rob him of any ability to defend himself…
So Meng Yao put his hand on his mother’s arm. “It’s fine, Mother,” he said to her, hoping to offer comfort where there was none to be had, and then forced himself to smile at the cultivator. “How can this humble one best please the venerated Immortal?”
The man’s eyes flickered between them, and his frown deepened.
“The woman comes with us, same deal,” he told the owner, who nodded, eyes fixed on the gold, and never mind that both Meng Yao and his mother had now frozen in horror. There were women in the brothel who sometimes pretended to be sisters and might even be, it was a popular request by clients, but – his mother… “All right, where’s the room?”
“I’ll give you the best one in the house,” the owner said, tone fawning, and showed them the way.
By the time they were upstairs, Meng Yao was shaking like a leaf and his mother looked on the verge of weeping.
The moment the cultivator closed the door behind them, shooing the owner away, she threw herself onto the floor in front of him. “Venerated Immortal,” she said, begging, and Meng Yao averted his eyes, feeling rage build in the pit of his stomach. “Spare my son, please. I will do anything you wish –”
“You misunderstand,” the cultivator said stiffly. “Your son is safe – as are you. I’m not here for that sort of thing…boy, get her off the floor and seated somewhere, get her something to drink to calm her.”
Meng Yao got his mother into a chair, pressing some wine usually reserved for clients into her hand. By the time he was done with that, he was more puzzled than anything else, even the rage at his mother’s mistreatment fading away into confusion. “What does the venerated Immortal want?” he asked delicately, and the cultivator shrugged.
“I actually have no idea what I’m doing here,” he said frankly. “I received a message from my sect leader that told me to find and secure a ‘Meng Yao, son of Meng Shi’ from Yunping City, and when I asked around it led me to you. I was hoping you could tell me the reason.”
“Your sect leader asked for me?” Meng Yao asked blankly. “By name?”
Could it be – his mother had always said –
“You’re not from Lanling,” his mother said, wiping her eyes, expression back to fierce and calculating. “My boy is the son of the sect leader of Lanling Jin, not…”
She trailed off deliberately.
“Qinghe Nie,” the cultivator said automatically, and even folded his hands in front of him to salute – perfunctorily, but still more than most would bother with for a whore. “The message said only that you were in danger, and that I was to hide you until the sect leader could come pick you up himself.”
So it wasn’t his father, Meng Yao thought, disappointed, but still – a sect leader of a cultivation sect, knowing him by name? Sending a message from far away?
He had no idea what to think of it.
And so they waited, each one sitting awkwardly in their own place, as several shichen passed. It was already evening when there was a knock – at the window.
The window on the third floor.
The cultivator got up and opened it, and a large fierce-looking man carrying three children – one on each hip with an arm around them, and another seated on his shoulders, clutching to his hair like reins – wiggled his way through, shaking all the children off as if his arms were hurting the second his feet were on the ground.
“Is that him?” he asked, nodding at Meng Yao, and the cultivator nodded. “He’s young.”
“Thirteen,” Meng Yao said, and noted that it was probably older than any of the three children who were looking at him in fascination.
“One of Sect Leader Jin’s bastards, Sect Leader,” the cultivator reported, and Meng Yao felt something fall in the pit of his belly at the term one of. There were many like him, then – perhaps his mother’s optimism regarding his reception in Lanling City was as misplaced as her optimism in buying all those pointless cultivation manuals that he slaved over and which accomplished nothing.
“Well, that can’t be the reason, then, or the list would be thrice as long,” the sect leader said, frowning. “I’d even started wondering…no, it still makes no sense. Regardless, no point in waiting around here any longer – I saw two Wen patrols making their way through the city as I flew in, and I have no doubt they’ll find this place soon. We should be gone before they do.”
“If this humble one can ask, what is the honorable Sect Leader’s plans for my son?” Meng Shi asked, ducking her head demurely and looking up at him flirtatiously through her eyelashes, even as she leaned forward a little in a way that set off her shape to its best advantage.
“Oh no,” the sect leader said, and took two full steps backwards. Without the fierce expression on his face, he looked much younger – in fact, Meng Yao thought with wonder and maybe even a little disbelieving amusement, it seemed like this sect leader was most certainly still a teenager, and awkward with it, too. “No, I – I don’t – Gao Jianguo, do something!”
“She’s a whore, Sect Leader,” the cultivator said, rolling his eyes. “They flirt. It happens.”
The sect leader was bright red. The children were all giggling.
“Madame,” he said, bowing to her – an actual bow, respectful, not even the perfunctory dip the cultivator had given earlier, and he didn’t have to call her Madame, either. “Forgive me, I’m not…I don’t have much experience with women. My name is Nie Mingjue, sect leader of Qinghe Nie. I have reason to believe your son is in terrible danger if he remains here, and I intend to take him with me to a safe location.”
“What assurances do I have of his safety?” Meng Shi asked, and Meng Yao knew then that she intended to send him whether he wanted to go or not.
Not that he didn’t intend to go. Such an earnest sect leader, this ‘Nie Mingjue’…even if it was all a mistake or misunderstanding, which had to be what had happened, there were benefits that could be gotten here. If Meng Yao could become a servant there, learn cultivation, he could maybe save up enough to later go to his father’s side – no matter what they asked of him, it would be better than a brothel, especially one where the owner had already seen an indication of Meng Yao’s worth as chattel.
And yet…
“You have my word,” Nie Mingjue assured her.
“I won’t leave without her,” Meng Yao suddenly spoke up, and ignored his mother’s glare. He didn’t want to leave her here. He wouldn’t, not unless he was forced, which seemed likely, but he had to try his best. “If I’m in danger, then so is she. They might want to use her to lure me in.”
“That’s a good point,” Nie Mingjue said, which Meng Yao wasn’t expecting. He even nodded in approval at Meng Yao. “Very well, we’ll take you both with us. Gao Jianguo –”
“The amount I’ve already paid would be sufficient to cover any slave bond,” the cultivator said. His frown suggested he wasn’t happy about his sect leader’s actions. “There will be paperwork –”
“Only for me,” Meng Shi said quickly. “My son is free, and always has been.”
Nie Mingjue looked out the window, clearly calculating – two patrols, Meng Yao thought, this sect leader thought someone was hunting him down for some unknown reason – and then glanced at the two of them. He sighed a little, almost imperceptibly, before firming up his expression once more.
“Take Meng Shi and buy her bond,” he instructed the cultivator. “Collect anything she wants to take with her and take her back to Qinghe through safe routes. I’ll take Meng Yao with me and we’ll meet there.”
“What should I do with the ownership papers? There’s a tax for taking slaves out of the county, and people might notice –”
“Burn them,” Nie Mingjue said, and Meng Yao’s heart gave a sudden thrill of delight. “She can travel as a free woman. Make sure she sees a doctor, if she thinks she would benefit from seeing one, and cover the cost – I want her to arrive at the Unclean Realm alive and well.”
Alive and well, Meng Yao thought, even more delighted. That was a warning, no doubt about it – telling the cultivator not to take advantage of Meng Shi during his trip. And a doctor! With his sect leader ordering it, the cultivator would have to take her to a good one, not some phony sawbones, and she could finally get that cough of hers looked at…
Meng Yao would do whatever this sect leader wanted. Just for that.
(It was more than his father had ever done for them.)
“Can you handle flying with four boys?” the cultivator asked, frowning, and – flying? “Especially if you already came all the way from Qinghe, and through Yunmeng, you must be exhausted –”
“I’ll be fine,” Nie Mingjue said shortly. “He’s thirteen; he can stand on his own and hold onto me, arms around my waist, while I hold on to the others…hey, are you afraid of heights?”
That question was directed at Meng Yao.
“I don’t think so,” he replied, aiming for honest. It seemed to be what this sect leader appreciated, and Meng Yao was good at figuring out and catering to people’s likes. He’d have to exert himself especially this time. “But I’ve never gone higher than the fourth floor.”
“Well, you’re about to,” Nie Mingjue said, and his saber unsheathed itself and floated on the floor. “All right, everyone back on – you can introduce yourself in the air. We still have to make the ride back to the Lotus Pier, and I’m sure your parents are worried sick already, Jiang-gongzi.”
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hardlyinteresting · 3 years
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Matters of the mind, body, and soul
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Laszlo Kreizler x reader
warnings: victorian ideals, discussions of sex (no smut), still 18+ to keep on the safe side, minors dni. the ending is open ended so feel free to imply what you like. potential spoilers for season 1 of the alienist. I also haven't edited this. if you know me, then no you don't please don't read this.
The pool house is eerily quiet as Laszlo makes his rounds reviewing the details of the crime scene. you follow silently keeping the bottom of your skirt lifted to avoid the possibility of blood stains. Lazlo follows invisible clues to one of the changing cubicles.
"what is it Laszlo?”
"l'm not sure yet" he mumbles.
you watch fascinated by the man in front of you.
"do you think something, or someone else stole his attention? He didn't complete his ritual on this poor boy" you offer.
"that's exactly what I am thinking” he says, reaching into the cubical with one hand running two fingers up the wall before bringing them to his lips. your breath catches in your throat you stomach turns in on itself and you can feel heat rush to your cheeks. Laszlo is kind enough to not mention the sound of your sharp intake of breath.
it's much later in the evening when you're back at the make shift office Sara set up.
Both Sara and John have gone home leaving Laszlo and yourself alone. you sit the counter pouring over notes you've made through out the case trying to focus your thoughts but the only thing on your mind is the image of Laszlo with his fingers to his lips. you're unsure why but it’s left you with a feeling of—is it longing? whatever it is it feels sinful. your mind wanders further imagining what the tips of his fingers might feel like against your own. at your waist? the curve of your hip?-caressing your thighs? between-- no you can't imagine that. you won't allow it.
"are you feeling alright?"
"hmm?"
"I was inquiring as to whether you might be feeling unwell. forgive me, but you haven't been yourself at all today”.
"no. I apologize l don't know what's gotten into me today doctor"
"you've seen something that’s left you un-nerved?"
"something lot that nature, yes.”
"do you wish to speak about it?”
you swallow hand brow furrows as you consider. if you can’t talk to an alienist about these thoughts who can you speak to? Laszlo puts down the piece of chalk from his hand, he sits down at the table pulling up another chair to face his. He motions to the seat. your heart races as you follow the silent instruction. your knees touch his when you sit and your quick to sit further back in the chair an action that does not go unnoticed by the doctor.
He also notes your unwillingness to look him in the eye instead choosing to focus on where your fingers trace patterns on your skirt
"your mind us wandering again?”
you only nod in response. biting your bottom lip. why do you feel like crying? you take another deep breath much shakier this time.
"it's not right--not proper"
"In my experience it's the thoughts we've been target to believe are improper that are actually the most natural.”
How is it possible that his understanding makes you want to cry more?
“I fear -- l am afraid that these thoughts are not as natural as you say they may be. I cannot imagine anyone having thoughts such as these about a person."
"so it is another person who has been occupying your mind?"
you nod.
"do you wish to cause this person harm? To injure or kill?"
"no! never." You’re quick to respond looking up at him.
He nods observing your wide eyes and damp eyelashes. He'd be lying if he said it didn’t make his heart clench seeing you so obviously distraught.
"well then" he says gently taking one of your hands in his, "l assure you, there is nothing unnatural about you or your mental preoccupations"
you shiver at the feeling of his fingertips against the pulse point of your wrist
"it may be bold of me, but I believe that what you’re feeling is simply desire"
you shake your head.
"l can't stop thinking about it"
"about what" He presses.
"this morning. you-- “ you sigh standing to turn away from the man," you licked your fingertips and my mind has not been my own since then."
"There is nothing shameful about desire. it is our most primal instinct the very reason every creature on this planet continues to exist"
He stands slowly and you can hear his footsteps approaching.
"if this is desire then my mother was not honest with me"
“It is likely she was not. But I doubt that the dishonesty was intentional”.
standing toe to toe with you he tilts your chin up for you to look at him with watery eyes.
"l still don't understand” you confess, "why would what you did cause this-- surely that's odd even if my thoughts themselves are not”,
“On the contrary. But it is not my place to speak to you about such things" his hand returns to yours.
"l must know Laszlo. I am tired of being at a disadvantage especially in matters of my own soul, mind and body."
He resists a smirk at the fire he sees grow behind your eyes. The unmoving need to stand your ground. an admirable quality.
"very well. There are many things that draw us to potential partner some attraction is conscious, but mostly attraction is a subconscious function, something we do not actively focus on in order to process. Some alienist believe that features that may seem insignificant to us are actually very important,” He lifts one of you hands to hips lips pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles before continuing, “hands for example seem to be an important subconscious factor when women look at a man. Simply put; when I brought my fingers to my mouth this mourning--" he pauses to repeat the action and you can feel your bottom jaw go slack again, your thighs clench without thought. Laszlo continues, "it brought your subconscious processes to the surface. I trust you can understand why the lips and mouth might also play a role in desire".
"kissing." your mother had told you that much.
"among other things yes” He turns away returning to his chair.
"other things? Laszlo, please don’t give me half truths." you plead moving to sit in front of him again, this time not moving when your knees touch.
"it is not easy to explain.. And when it comes to matters of desire it is better you wait and experience them instead"
"wait? for what? To wed a man I do not care for, and who will not care for my desires? If all men knew what you say you know, then I know my mother would have told me more"
He considers it. your right. it's true that women are only told what it is they need to know to be "good wives" He is not obtuse to the fact that society has not been built for the comfort, satisfaction or pleasure of the female sex.
"Both the hands and mouth can be used to stimulate the body during relations"
you nod watching Laszlo's finger mindlessly trace circles on the arm of the wooden chair and you briefly consider that he's reimagining a moment from his past as he looks deep in thought.
“And, forgive me, have you done these things?”
He looks back up at you, “I have”
“Show me”. You surprise yourself by saying.
"you deserve to venture through these experiences with someone who loves you, and that you love."
Your brows furrowed as you think, then you're the perfect man. You drop to your knees in front of him taking both his hands in yours where they rest on his knees. "and do you not hold affection for me? John has told me you've said as much in so few words. I am not naive in believing you must know how I feel about you by now"
He offers a gentle smile, one hand leaving yours, moving to cup your cheek, "It is my propensity to the very affections you speak of that prevents me from acting. I have-- I have never been bold enough to assume that the feelings may be returned."
It's your turn to reach to hold his face in your hands,
“Oh, Laszlo”.
He stands slowly and you stand too. His weaker hand finds a place to rest on your hip, and despite the layers of skirts and petticoats you swear you can feel the warmth of his palm, the tender press of his fingertips. His other hand traces the the shape of your cheekbone, and jawline memorizing each detail. It's slow and almost imperceptible but at some point your eyes have fluttered shut and your can feel yourself leaning in as his lips meet yours. Oh. He pulls you closer, the hand on your hip moving to press you close by the small of you back.
His forehead rests against yours and you take a moment to appreciate the soft scratch of his beard against your palm.
“Is this equal to the images your mind conjured”.
“Yes,” you confess, “but there was more”.
“Tell me”.
You shake your head avoiding his gaze almost as embarrassed as you were earlier.
“There is no shame between lovers, mien Schatz”.
“Lovers?” The word catches in your throat as you return your attention to him once more.
“I thought that I was clear in my intentions--forgive me. I would never have--if this is not an interaction you which to have tell me at once, I will put the notion to rest”
“I want this-- I want you Laszlo”.
“Then it would be an act of cruelty on my part to not give you what you desire”.
His lips are on yours once again, but this time we walks you backwards until your back is against the wall, the grip of both his hands on your hips much more firm this time.
“I wish to know what it feels like-- “ you grab one of his hands in both of her own “--to feel your fingertips upon my own lips”
You maintain eye contact with the doctor as you bring his hand up, dropping your head down to meet his hand that is in your control, his fingertips graze your bottom lip, his fingers twitch but he does not pull away. You hesitate but venture to brush the tip of your tongue against his forefinger as he had done himself this morning. Pulling away only when he lets out a shaky breath.
“I think I understand,” you mumble, “and these things, they affect you too, doctor?”
“Very much so”.
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twdeadfanfic · 3 years
Text
Vows Pt.5
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Daryl Dixon x Reader
Series Summary:
The last battle with Negan doesn’t go as it should, with Negan coming on top, and so reader, Daryl’s girlfriend, offers herself as a wife to Negan if he doesn’t kill Daryl or anyone else. Negan accepts, he won’t kill anyone but will take reader as a wife, and he’ll take Daryl and some of the others to the Sanctuary as prisoners, promising not to hurt anyone if reader is one of his wives and the communities work for him.
This has both flashbacks to reader and Daryl’s story since meeting to now, and the present with reader living at the Sanctuary as a wife, trying to keep Daryl and their people safe, and she and the other wives dealing with Negan, plotting… (This is not a Negan x reader fic!)
90% of this chapter is the second part of the flashback from last chapter, when Daryl and reader met pre-show.
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A couple more days passed, two, three, you weren’t sure, the days blurred a bit when you stayed inside that room doing the same every day. You were allowed to leave, if one of the guards went with you and you told Negan beforehand and why, but nobody usually bothered. There wasn’t much to do or to see at the  Sanctuary anyway, just sadness.
Frankie had left today, she was going to see her brother, she was allowed to go talk to him every other day, she kept Negan happy with her massages and with everything else. When she came back, she seemed mad, closing the door behind her with a loud bang, startling you all.
“Where’s that prick?!”
“She’s in the bedroom with Tanya…” Lila said and Frankie didn’t say anything, making her way to the door, seeming murderous angry, but Abby stepped in front of her, stopping her and grabbing her arms,
“What happened?”
“That prick has my brother working on the fence! I almost saw him getting bitten! I fuck that prick, my brother shouldn’t have to do shit like that!” Frankie yelled, fuming. “Get out of my way!”
Frankie tried to walk past Abby and to Negan’s bedroom, but Abby grabbed her arms again, dragging her back. “Whatever you want to do, don’t! You know what will happen! He’ll kill you, your brother, and everyone else of your family!”
Frankie struggled again, but then the door opened and Negan walked inside, half-dressed, with Tanya following him, looking at all of you wide-eyed.
“What the hell’s going on?! What’s all that fucking noise and yelling?!” Negan asked, and then he noticed Frankie and Abby, who was still grabbing her arms.
You were afraid that Frankie was going to do something, but it seemed that Abby has gotten to her and she didn’t say anything. She broke free from Abby’s grasp and went to her room, ignoring Negan.
Negan frowned at Frankie’s closed door and then looked at Abby. “What was all this shit about?”
“She and I…we just had a disagreement, nothing to worry about.” Abby shrugged.
“A disagreement?” Negan rolled his eyes. “Women, can’t live together without can fighting over shit.” He chuckled. “What have I told you all about that? Not unless you’re naked in front of me and covered in oil.”
“I’ll remember it for the next time.” Abby winked at Negan and gave him one of those seductive smiles that you didn’t know how she could pull off like that.
“What were you fighting about anyway, girls,” Negan said while pouring himself a glass of whiskey and flopping down onto an armchair.
“This.” Abby waved at herself. “It’s one of the new dresses that you brought us from Alexandria. Frankie said that she wanted it but I think it looks way better on me…it’s not my fault that Frankie doesn’t have these boobs.” Abby shrugged and you almost clapped at the act.
“Abby, sweetheart, you look fucking delicious.” Negan looked her up and down, smirking. “But, fighting over a dress? You all have more than enough, can you all girls play nice and share?”
“Share?” Abby moved closer to Negan, and then she straddled his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and making Negan smile wider. “I’d say we share enough here…”
“Mmm…someone’s getting jealous?” Negan purred and Abby shrugged before kissing him, and you really did not want to watch them making out, but it was also kind of fascinating to see Abby like that, when she was all the time talking shit about Negan. You wondered once again how these women did it.
“I know I’m the best fuck in here anyway…admit it,” Abby murmured as he started to kiss Negan’s neck.
“Now, now, darling, that’s not a nice thing to say in front of all my other wives…” Negan said, placing her hands on Abby’s hips.
“Maybe I’ll show them, then…” Abby began to rock on Negan’s lap, grinding on him, and you finally looked away, wondering if they were just going to fuck there. That’d be a first, but it wouldn’t really surprise you.
“Sounds tempting but I don’t want more jealousy and catfights.” You heard Negan saying and you wondered if he really thought that any of you would care if he fucked someone else and spared you.
You heard Negan moving and Abby chuckling, and you looked at them. He had gotten up, lifting Abby with him, her long legs wrapped around his waist and his arms around his neck, and he walked to his bedroom.
“Well…” Tanya began once the door was closed and they were gone. “He can be a smart guy sometimes, but most times his cock takes the wheel…which is fortunate.” You had to snort and agree with that.
The door of Frankie’s room opened and she walked out and flopped onto one of the couches.
“You almost got yourself and everyone you love killed,” Noemi scolded her.
“I know,” Frankie muttered. “Won’t happen again.”
“Hey, Frankie,” Lila called for her. “You do have nice boobs too, so don’t let that get to you.”
Frankie snorted, throwing one of the couch’s pillows to Lila, who just caught it and placed it behind her head as he shifted to lie down on the couch, smiling.
*
Abby didn’t come back until dawn. You were sleeping with the door of your bedroom open and you woke up when she got into the main room. You got up and went to join her, finding her drinking from a wine bottle in one of the couches, and he offered it to you when you sat down next to her.
“You were in there for a long while today,” you said, taking a sip from the bottle before giving it back to her. Wine for breakfast. Why not.
“Yeah, he fell asleep, I spent him.” Abby snorted. “And he doesn’t want us leaving when he’s asleep, says we can’t walk away from him.” She rolled her eyes. You wouldn’t know, he always had someone else after he was done with you. “So I had to wait for him to wake up.”
You hummed. “Quick thinking, back there. It was a nice thing to do, to cover for Frankie.”
Abby shrugged. “Nothing that she wouldn’t have done for me.” You guessed so. You had found that these women were protective over each other, and you were starting to feel like that. “Besides…I get her. If Negan’d have pulled some of that shit on my sister, I go in there and smash this bottle on his head.” Abby lifted the bottle of wine. “You don’t have siblings, right?”
“No…Daryl had a brother, Merle…Daryl was very protective of him too, despite Merle being a major ass…”
Then…
It had taken Daryl and you two days to find his brother, while it should have been less than a day, but the road that you were following was clogged with cars and walkers, and you were forced to take detours and even get into the woods with the bike from time to time. You never went to the main roads, Daryl told you that those were full of traffic jams of people trying to get to the city and the camps, attracting walkers. Part of you thought that maybe it’d be better to go to one of those roads, find more people, get to a camp, but you weren’t about to go on your own, and Daryl was only focused on getting to his brother.
You weren’t unarmed anymore, Daryl had given you a big knife, and he had even shown you how to use it, not only so you wouldn’t end up just hurting yourself, but so you could kill any walker that stumbled to you too. He seemed fearless, often going to put down walkers instead of just ignoring them, seeming to really hate those monsters. You were still scared of them, and you had put down one with your knife, listening to Daryl’s instructions, but you weren’t very confident in your ability. You didn’t know how Daryl could be so good at it.
As you had noticed, Daryl was rough and harsh with words, not that he spoke much. His way of speaking to you and his tone annoyed you sometimes, but at the same time, you knew that not only had he given you a knife and trained you with it, he kept you safe in more ways. He watched your back, always had you under his sight, making sure that you weren’t near threats alone, even if he acted like he didn’t care, and hunted to feed you both. He was rude, sure he was, but he hadn’t tried anything inappropriate and he didn’t ask anything for his help. In a way, it felt good to know that you had watching your back someone who seemed to be good at surviving and who made sure that you survived too, no matter that he acted like he didn’t care or how harsh he could be.
On the second day, you arrived at the town nearest to the prison where his brother should have been taken. You had stopped before riding too close, on an elevation from which you could see the town, and even from afar you could see several groups of walkers roaming the streets.
“Shit…” Daryl muttered, getting off the bike and walking back and forth while he kelp looking at the town.
“There might be people hauled in any of the buildings,” you suggested, you didn’t want to give Daryl false hopes, but in just two days, you had seen how important his brother Merle was to him, and you didn’t like to see him discouraged like that. “But we can’t ride in.”
“I can,” Daryl said, getting into the bike again.
“Daryl, it is suicide.”
“Stay here if you wanna, I’m going.”
“Daryl.” You stopped in front of the bike, even if you weren’t totally sure that Daryl wouldn’t just run you over, and you grabbed the handlers, while Daryl glared at you. “You can’t ride in, every group of walkers will go to you, you can’t fight them all on your own, or with me. You know it.”
“Then what the fuck do you want me to do!”
“I don’t know…we’ll think something, we’ll come up with a plan,” you said, sounding unconvincing. You believed that Daryl’s brother was dead, like all your friends and family, but you didn’t know how to break it to him without making him freak out.
Merle wasn’t dead, though, and suddenly, he had come out of the woods near Daryl and you. Daryl’s head snapped towards the sound and you followed his gaze, finding Merle. If Daryl had seemed rough, that was nothing with how his brother looked. You were about to freak out, wondering if the stranger was dangerous, when Daryl spoke.
“Merle!” Daryl jumped off the bike, going to his brother.
“I was sure had heard my bike, I’d recognize that purring anywhere,” Merle said. “I told you not to touch it, lil’ bro.”
“Wasn’t done fixin’ mine…what…are you okay?” Daryl seemed almost as shocked as you at his brother appearing out of the blue.
“I’m fine, lil’ bro...you too, uh? I knew it. We Dixons are hard, even you.” Merle chuckled as he wrapped an arm around his brother, and then he looked at you. “Well, well…look at that…you got yourself a bitch, baby bro?”
“Excuse you?” You snapped.
“That’s, uh…that’s Y/N…” Daryl said, walking to you again. “Found her at the road, her town was full of those dead assholes, so I took her with me.”
“Keepin’ yourself entertained, I see…” Merle chuckled, looking you up and down with a smirk, and you didn’t like the way in which he was talking at you or what he was implying, but before you could snap, Daryl spoke again.
“What the hell happened to you, Merle?”
“The guards were taking me to prison when we run into a group of those things on the road. They went to inspect what was going on, weren’t that smart, one ended with her throat tore open, the other bitten,” Merle began to explain. “I managed to convince him to unshackle me, I thought that prick was goin’ to leave me there. We killed the ones on the road, but we saw another group comin’ from the town, they’re attracted to the sound,” Merle kept going, and by now you had figured that too.
“We got into the woods, found a warehouse near, seemed a good place to hide. The guard died that night and when I realized, he had turned into one of those things,” Merle said, and Daryl had already told you that he thought that if you were bitten, you turned into one of those. This seemed to confirm it. “So I put him down. That was…three days ago? Ain’t sure. I’m still at the warehouse, but I was about to leave today, go back home…but…” He took a look at the town. “Fuck me…there weren’t half as many the last time.”
“Our town is full of those too, we can’t go back there,” Daryl explained.
“Everything is full of them, they’re everywhere, more every day,” you said. “We should go to one of those military camps…they said that there was one near Atlanta, we can’t be far from it now.”
The Dixons looked at each other. “Come on, to the warehouse,” Merle said. “Safest place for now.”
You all spent almost a week at the warehouse, before a big group of walkers had arrived, threatening to trap you in there forever, and so you all had to rush out. The Dixons had put down a few walkers that had gotten too close, and you had managed to put down one even if you were scared, for which you were quite proud.
There had been a pickup near and Merle had driven the bike onto the open back of it, and then you both had rushed into the cabin, driving away, hitting secondary roads and even paths through the woods, where you camped for days.
All that meant, that you had to spend almost two weeks alone with the Dixons, before you’d end up finding the quarry camp…if it had been only Daryl, you guessed it wouldn’t have been that bad, even if he was brash, but Merle…Daryl seemed prince charming indeed in comparison to his brother.
Merle was loud, obnoxious, and just a major prick, who wanted to be in charge of everything and talked down to Daryl and bossed him around in a way that you were sure if it were another person, Daryl would chop off their head. But he just took it from his brother. Merle never shut up, only when he was asleep, always giving his opinion on everything, sputtering nonsense and bullshit adorned with sexism, racism, and everything else along those lines, besides crude and perverted comments towards you, only to dismiss it as being joking when you snapped, but you knew better.
Besides all that, you knew that he had a bag full of different kinds of drugs, and it wasn’t unsual to find him high. When you had told Daryl, he had gotten angry, telling you to “mind your fucking business.” He had been harsh with you before, but not the way he was now when it involved his brother.
Every time that Merle opened his mouth, you wanted to sew it closed or punch him, or both. But every time that you talked back or snapped, or you two argued, Daryl would take his brother’s side and snap at you too, and you were more than fed up with it.
You had thought that Daryl was rough and harsh, sure, but not that he was a major asshole…which now you weren’t sure about, and you hated how whenever Merle said something sexist, racist, or anything like that, Daryl didn’t say anything against it, and you had caught him a few times repeating his brother’s words, as if he thought like that too.
You were tired and done with that, and the fact that the Dixons were alive people, the only alive people around, it seemed, in a world that looked full of dead monsters, wasn’t feeling enough to stick around anymore. Besides, every time that Merle did an inappropriate joke, you felt more and more uncomfortable, and so, one day, after Merle said something so sexist that even Daryl had seemed uncomfortable, you decided that you’d leave and try your luck, follow the signals to Atlanta, see if you found a group of alive people out there.
You were camped at the woods, the Dixons had made a perimeter with cord, hanging stuff that’d make noise if walkers approached.  You had to admit that you had learned a good fair of survival tips in your days with the Dixons. Merle was asleep after having gotten high and Daryl was taking watch.
“I’m gonna pee,” you announced, walking away, only with your knife in your belt and nothing else. It was unwise, but you couldn’t be around Merle anymore.
You had stepped outside the wire carefully so as not to rattle it and make noise, but still, it seemed as if Daryl had suspected of what you were gonna do, and so he was behind you.
“Where’re you goin’?”
You let out a sigh, turning to look at him. “Look…I…thank you for everything, but I’m going to go on my own.”
“The fuck you sayin’,” Daryl scoffed, frowning at you.
“Daryl…have you seen the way Merle talks to me? I can’t stand it anymore.”
Daryl shrugged, his frown getting deeper. “That’s just how Merle is.”
“Yeah…” You snorted. “That’s why I’m leaving…I can’t stand his bullshit anymore and it’s looking like you agree with him, so…” You  just shrugged and turned around to keep walking
“You can’t leave, you’ll get eaten.” Daryl scoffed as if you were an idiot.
He rushed to you and grabbed your arm as if he were going to drag you back to the camp, so you younked your arm free, you were starting to get annoyed. Sure, Daryl had helped you, but since finding his brother, he’d been acting like he didn’t give a shit about what happened to you, and let his brother say all kind of mean things to you, you even though he agreed.
“Like you care anyway!” You snapped. “You too think all that sexist bullshit! And I’m not going to let you both talk to me like that.”
Daryl was annoyed too, glaring at you, and he scoffed. “Yeah…yeah, I don’t care, don’t give a shit!” He snapped. “Go get eaten if that’s what you wanna, crazy bitch!”
“Yeah, crazy bitch, I heard it before,” you muttered, walking away and towards what you hoped was Atlanta’s direction.
Soon, though, you had stumbled into walkers that seemed to come from the road near that part of the woods, where a car jam had turned into a monster's feast. You had put down a couple, surprising even yourself, but they were too many.
You wondered if you could outrun them, you thought so, but you were worried about just running to nowhere and getting lost. It wasn’t looking like you didn’t have much choice, but then, an arrow embedded itself into the head of one of the walkers. You looked back and Daryl, who said that he didn’t care and acted like so, had followed you and was there, recharging the crossbow and putting down another walker, while you went to do the same with another, and the last one fell to the ground with another arrow into its head.
“You were right, I’d get eaten,” you muttered bitterly as Daryl approached, looking at you as if expecting you to snap again.
“Yeah…it ain’t…ain’t safe to be alone…so…” He shrugged, looking down. “You have to come back.” You let out a sigh…yes, you knew you should, you ought to stick together with alive people in order to survive, you needed help and people watching your back, and yet… “Merle…the things he said about you…I, uh…I don’t think those…” Daryl muttered, and those weren’t the only things that the Dixon’s said that annoyed you, but still…it was something, and it was unexpected. “But…that’s how Merle is. But you can’t go on your own ‘cause you’ll be geek’s food.”
You looked around at the dead monsters on the ground…yeah, you knew that Daryl was right…not to mention that you had been eating of what he hunted, sleeping while he took watch knowing that no monster would sneak on you, you knew that being alone was unwise and dangerous…
“And you care?” You asked, still a bit annoyed and hurt.
Daryl shrugged, looking down and chewing at the skin of his thumbnail. “I guess,” he finally muttered and you let out a sigh.
“Okay, let’s go back.” You gave in and Daryl nodded, turning to walk back to the camp without saying anything else. “Daryl?” You called for him but he didn’t look at you. “I guess I care too about you not being geek’s food.” It was true, no matter how annoyed at him you could get, for some reason, you cared.”
Now…
“Yeah…yeah, Merle was a prick,” you repeated, and Abby seemed amused. “But he meant the world to Daryl.”
When Merle was left in Atlanta, Daryl had let you hug him, back when he didn’t let himself be comforted that much, and had even cried…and then, months later, when he had found his brother dead, it had destroyed him, it had broken his heart, and it had broken yours too, to see Daryl hurting like that, crying and crying while you held him through the night, trying to comfort him somehow, feeling like his pain was physically hurting you.
“Yeah…that’s how it goes with siblings.” Abby gave you a sad smile. “I’m gonna catch some sleep.”
“Okay…”
*
If you enjoyed this, comments and reblogs are always more than welcome, thanks.
Also, as always, excuse my English, it’s not my first language.
IF YOUR TAG IS IN BOLD IT’S BECAUSE I CAN’T MAKE IT WORK (AS YOU KNOW i’M MAKING A NEW TAGLIST)
New taglist for Daryl, if you want to be (un)tagged please let me know.
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ikeromantic · 3 years
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Fake It Til You Make It
A Mitsuhide Akechi fanfiction - approx. 2200 words. This scene takes place post-romantic epilogue. Fluff and a little spice.
First: Mitsuhide and the Maiden
Previous: Adrift
Kyubei watched the innkeeper through narrowed eyes. Though the man was clearly nervous, he didn’t seem to be lying. His story hadn’t changed in the last three tellings, so either he was an accomplished liar or he was telling the truth.
“L-lord Akechi and the woman left with one of the Akechi warriors. Right after we saw the fire across the lake,” the innkeeper said for the fourth time. “Then the storm came and after that, no one saw him.”
“Do you remember anything else? Did anyone else come in after they left? Did you see anyone acting strangely?”
The man shook his head. “No, I mean, not really? Everyone was a bit strange after we saw the blaze. Wondering if Azuchi was still standing.” He frowned. “You think it might have been Lord Akechi? Him disappearing like that right after -”
Kyubei cut him off. “No. That was the work of the Mouri clan.” It wasn’t the first person he’d spoken with that suspected. And why wouldn’t they? Mitsuhide was only just back from his misadventure at the shogun’s side. An ally in disgrace. A man not to be trusted.
The worst part of all this was that Kyubei really had no idea what his lord wanted him to do. Should he quash the rumors? Encourage them? Mitsuhide’s instructions from his last letter said nothing about an attack on Azuchi - not like this - and nothing about disappearing. Of course, he pretended like he knew exactly what was going on. He had to, until he received additional instructions.
“So . . . am I free to go?” The innkeeper was frowning now. His nervousness replaced by a desire to get back to making money at the inn.
“For now,” Kyubei said. He gave the man a hard stare. “If I need anything else, I will send someone for you.”
The innkeeper bowed and left, leaving Kyubei alone with his thoughts. It really seemed that in the storm, his lord had simply vanished into thin air. And Miyake too.
Perhaps they'd left with Ranmaru, who was also missing. But if so, there would be a letter. A message. Something!
The castle staff had no idea where he was - they’d waited for him to return for hours. Miyake’s squad couldn’t find their commander either. Both men were expected.
And the chatelaine . . . his lady. Kyubei worried that he had failed to protect her again.
***
Morning came with pale light through a high window. It fell across four careworn, sleeping faces. Sasuke and Miyake lay in a tangle of blankets on the floor, and in a bed, Mitsuhide clung to his little mouse. He woke with the first notes of bird-song, but kept his eyes shut. He wasn’t ready to confront the strange world of 500 years in the future just yet.
His little one stirred in his arms as the sound of morning birds turned into a hum of outside activity. “Is it . . . are we really . . .” She opened her eyes and looked around Sarutobi’s flat. “We’re really here.”
Mitsuhide nodded.
“I want to be happy about it, but . . .”
He shushed her with a kiss. “It will be fine. Worrying won’t return us faster.”
She sighed and buried her face against his chest. “I know. I just hope everyone is alright.”
“They will be,” Mitsuhide reassured her. He didn’t think of it as a lie - simply an assumption he based on his past experience. Nobunaga would handle this threat as he did others that came before it.
And Kyubei would see to what the left hand needed to be doing.
Sasuke sat up, rubbing his face. “I apologize for the accommodations,” he told them. The same apology he’d given the night before.
“At least we had somewhere to sleep.” The chatelaine sat up and wiggled out of the blanket. “I should probably check on my flat and see if it’s still mine. If so, we won't have to impose on you a second night. Although,” she sighed. “I don’t have my ID or my keys or anything.”
“I don't mind,” Sasuke replied. “You are welcome to continue crashing here. Although, we may not be here for long. Weren’t there activities you wanted to do in this time? While you can?” His left eyebrow lifted almost imperceptibly.
Mitsuhide gave her one of his slow, warm smiles. His fingers traced a path down her spine. “Yes, you did mention some things I would like to see, since we are here.”
His little mouse arched like a cat against his hand. “I did . . . yes. Alright. Since we’re here, we might as well try to enjoy it!”
Miyake rolled over on the floor and pulled the blanket over his head.
“I take it that means you plan to stay here for the day?”
Sasuke answered for the half-asleep warrior. “Actually, I would really appreciate it if Miyake would accompany me. I need to go to my university and make some arrangements.”
Miyake groaned and sat up. He blinked as his gaze went around the room, taking in all the strange objects. Finally, he settled on the ninja. “You need protection or something?”
“No. I don’t think anyone will attack me.” Sasuke felt around for his glasses and slid them on. “But I expect to be moving some heavy equipment in the lab. And I may have a friend who can help us out with those arrangements, if you're there to corroborate my story.”
“Corr what?” Miyake frowned.
“Authenticate. Like a two factor security key.” The ninja grinned.
The warrior looked to Mitsuhide uncertainly.
“If Sarutobi believes you can assist him today, then that is what you will do. I am sure my fiancée and I will be fine.”
The chatelaine looked less certain about this, but she nodded agreement.
The four of them took turns dressing in the ‘washroom’ to give each other privacy. His morning was one of surprise as the . . . toilet . . . squirted him with water. And warm or cold water came from a metal spigot at the turn of a handle too, spilling into a porcelain basin. There were more smokeless lanterns - electric lights they were called - and other wonders.
Had Mitsunari been there, he was sure the scholar could have spent weeks studying every device but Mitsuhide just needed to know how to use it.
In this place, he was the naïve child, and his little one, the wise teacher. Such a shift in their positions was hard to take. Mitsuhide didn’t think of himself as arrogant but this situation was humbling in the extreme. Thankfully, he managed to get through dressing and breakfast without any serious mishaps.
Sasuke and Miyake left to the university. The flat was silent in their wake. Mitsuhide and his little mouse sat on the edge of the bed. She was tapping away at a . . . tablet . . . to get access to her accounts. The electronic scroll was interesting, at least. With pictures and writing all lit up so you could read it even in the dark.
Mitsuhide stood and stretched, trying to get used to moving in his new clothes. They were Sarutobi’s and didn’t quite fit. He was dressed in a pair of pants that clung tightly to his legs and ended short of his ankle. The top was a soft weave, dyed black. It sported an odd blue character on it and the word Sonic. Sarutobi said the picture was a hedgehog, whatever that was.
He would have liked to wear something without a picture on it. He’d had the choice between this one and something with a lizard that walked on two legs and shot fire from its mouth. Those were the only two shirts the ninja had that were long enough to cover him to his waist. And there was no way he was walking around with a bare midriff. Even if his little mouse looked interested in the idea.
Her midriff was bare afterall, she’d laughed. And it was - sort of. She tied one of Sasuke’s shirts in a bow under her breasts and had a pair of his shorts on. Though Mitsuhide wasn’t familiar with the clothes of this time, he thought she looked like a child trying to fit into her father’s clothes. Endearingly cute, but ill fit. Some of the clothes they saw women wearing on the way in the night before would have looked much better on her.
She looked up as if she knew he was thinking about her. “Ok, I think we’re ready to go.”
“Where to, my love?”
“Well, first to my apartment. It looks like my rent payments have all been made. And the building manager knows me so I should be able to get a spare key.” Her smile was all relief.
They arrived to the apartment, a small space in a tall building that reminded Mitsuhide of a castle, if the castle was robbed of all charm and beauty. Her room was utilitarian and sterile, and while there was still the wonder of technology, he could see none of her personality in the space. He said as much.
“Hm, yeah. I didn’t really have time to decorate. The apartment came furnished. I moved in and then, well,” she laughed. “I ended up in Azuchi with you.”
Mitsuhide pulled her into a hug. “A fate worse than death, little mouse?”
“You know it wasn’t,” she giggled, laughing harder as he ran his fingers down her sensitive sides. Holding her like this felt like home, even if nothing else was familiar.
After several slow breaths, they let go of each other.
“I must confess, I cannot see you living in this place. It doesn’t seem very safe. And you don’t have much room for your sewing.” Mitsuhide couldn’t help but poke into her cabinets, shelves, and drawers.
She nodded. “Yeah, it’s pretty small but it was a place I could afford on my own.”
Mitsuhide heard the pride in her voice. He smiled. “I can imagine you coming here, determined to make it on your own.” He turned from the cabinet he was inspecting to see her stripping off her shirt.
Her pert breasts were a pleasant surprise, but she crossed her arms over them as soon as she saw him looking. “I’m just changing clothes! I didn’t want to wear Sasuke’s basketball shorts all day.”
“Please, continue.”
“I - I can’t while you’re staring at me!” She turned so that all he could see was her back.
Mitsuhide laughed. “Are we not lovers? How many times have I kissed, nibbled, caressed every bit of your skin from head to toe?”
She shivered, skin dimpling with remembered touches. Slow, nervous, she turned back around. Her arms lowered, revealing her chest again. “You can watch if you want to.”
He wasn’t sure if it was nerves or mischief that made her voice squeak at the end. Either was amusing. “Mmm, I’m a lucky man to get a show.”
“You are,” she smiled. Her fingers went to the tie on the shorts. They fell away, pooling around her feet. Underneath, she wore nothing.
Mitsuhide sucked in a breath.
Her hips swayed as she walked to her wardrobe. She glanced over her shoulder at him and fluttered her eyelashes, trying to be saucy. The effect was a little spoiled by the blush that ran from her cheeks to the tips of her ears. From within the wardrobe she pulled out a little twist of cloth. It was light blue and made of some embroidered material.
He didn’t realize he could see her skin through it until she slipped it on, slowly pulling the fabric taut over her curves. Though she was technically covered, it was somehow more tempting than just skin alone. “What . . . is that?”
“Panties.” She giggled. Then she pulled out a matching bit of cloth and wrapped it around her chest. The rise of her breasts were restrained by this new piece of clothing as she reached behind her as if to tie it.
“And that?”
“My bra.” She turned right, then left, letting him get a good view.
The sight made Mitsuhide want to simultaneously rip the clothing off her and still enjoy looking at her in them. It wasn’t possible to have both . . .
“To be honest, it’s been kind of nice not wearing these the last few months. But I think I would feel weird if I didn’t wear them with my modern clothes.”
“I like them.” Mitsuhide smiled widely. A grin that brought heat to her gaze before she looked away, suddenly shy. He knew this ground well. Even here in a world where everything was strange, his little one was the same.
He stepped forward, reaching to cup her cheek. His other hand settled lightly on her hip, fingertips stroking the skin just above the fabric of her panties. She inhaled sharply, lips parting. Mitsuhide took the invitation.
The kiss was, at first, gentle and sweet, but the press of their bodies built heat between them. Their breath mingled, tongues entwined. Hands grasping, stroking, pulling. Tearing.
Mitsuhide stopped at the sound of fabric ripping.
His little one gasped and reached down to feel the damage. Her eyes widened. “You . . . tore my panties.” Then she started to laugh.
He laughed too. Never in his life had he expected a woman so wonderful. A woman he would want badly enough to - literally - tear the clothes off her. This kind of passion he’d always believed was fake. Yet here he was. It was unthinkable. Incredible. “I love you,” Mitsuhide told her, smiling so widely that it hurt.
“I love you too.”
She gestured to the wardrobe. "I should probably, you know. Finish." It took only a moment for her to shimmy into her own clothes. Then they headed out into this strange world that was his home 500 years after death.
Next: Kitsune's Day Out
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candychronicles · 3 years
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best damn show // h. shinsou
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A/N: my take on the bnharem villain/hero swap collab! this was supposed to be super super short but oops...
CHARACTER PAIRING: Shinsou Hitoshi x F!Reader
WORD COUNT: 3,918
WARNINGS: a half-assed sex scene, mentions of toxic coping mechanisms, bad mental health, alcohol and mentions of sex trafficking
SYNOPSIS: a dangerous villain is on the loose and Shinsou will find out who it is no matter what. 
Click here to read more fateful encounters! 
Shinsou turned off the TV with a resounding click, huffing in frustration. he had been there last night, seen the carnage, the chaos and pain that was caused by the villain. he didn’t know who they were, what they looked like, what their plan was, but he sure as hell didn’t want to wait to find out. The Hero Commission had instructed every hero to be on the lookout for suspicious activity but all it created was more chaos and distrust in a time when everyone needed to come together to figure out the issue at hand. being the type of hero that he was, one with a quirk that was not necessarily smiled upon, instantly created problems between himself and his team.
it became quite apparent that he needed to step down for a few days. while everyone claimed that it was for personal health issues, he left because he knew that he was being sussed out and couldn’t be trusted. despite trying his whole life to prove that he was a hero, nobody ever seemed to really see that he was one. even Aizawa thought it was best if he stepped away for the time being as tensions continued to rise between coworkers, friends and acquaintances alike.
to be frank, he was sick of being treated like a dog, someone who was there for entertainment and to do the dirty work of the heroes that wanted to keep their shiny crowns spotless. he was sick of being treated like less than scum on the pond, gum on a shoe or even trash littered on the side of the road. there were very few people in his life that truly believed in him and what he could do and while that was normally enough, it wasn’t today. there was someone truly dangerous on the rise, someone who could destroy entire cities if they wanted to, especially with the influence they had, and he wasn’t going to let them get away.
that’s how he ended up sneaking around the site of the initial attack. there was very little evidence there, everything cleared out from the cops, firemen and cleaning crews, but a little flyer about a bar stuck out like a sore thumb between two dull gray cement blocks. he plucked it out with his fingers and examined the barely held together paper, just managing to make out an address.
fuck it, might as well go. the worst that will happen is i get drunk and Kaminari will have to drag my ass back him, but honestly, he’s put me through worse.
with that thought in mind, he strolled to the bar near where the attack happened. the place was small and cozy and certainly not like anything he was expecting. a few people mingled around, chatting and laughing and nobody batted an eyelash when he walked in with his hood up and hands in his pocket. sliding into a chair, he signaled with one hand for the bartender to come and take his order. in what seemed like an instant, a neat whiskey, double, was placed in front of him with a kind nod.
before he had a chance to sip on his drink, another patron slipped in next to him. you were barely paying attention and apologized profusely when you realized you practically pushed him off his chair.
“i am so so sorry! i slid in here like a chicken with my head cut off. have you ever actually seen that happen before? it’s honestly quite terrifying,” you started, laughing at your own antics before continuing, “let me buy you a drink to make it up to you.”
“are you hitting on me?” was the first thing that came out of his mouth as he quirked an eyebrow at you, studying your flushed face and doey eyed expression.
“well, your hood is up so i can’t really see how cute you are. i’m honestly just half assed drunk and feeling extra nice tonight. no flirting here!”
he chuckled before flipping his hood down, cocking his head towards the bartender as he downed his drink in one gulp. you admired his face, the way it barely scrunched up despite the taste, his adam’s apple bouncing up and down.
“one more please! actually, make that two.”
you and Shinsou spent the whole night laughing about what seemed like the dumbest things: how many vertebrae giraffes had in their neck, how many ice cubes you could each fit in your mouth at one time, how crayons were made, and who could take a shot with a straight face. the latter led you two to being absolutely hammered as you stumbled out of the bar at a crisp three in the morning.
“s’nice meeting you S-shinsou! we should do this a-again sometime,” you stated matter-of-factly, laughing at the confused look on his face.
he spent a few seconds pondering the situation before agreeing to meet you here in a few days, sloppily exchanging numbers and hoping that they were right before he walked you back to your apartment, citing that it wouldn’t be fair as a hero for him to not escort you home to your safe spot.
the next morning resulted in a pounding headache as he sat up groggily from the couch, still dressed in all black from the night before. despite not learning anything about the villain that had caused the attack, he had to admit that his night was still nice.
the next few days before you two were supposed to meet up, Shinsou went full vigilante. he spent hours scouring any database he could for underground information about the villain. they were calling themselves “nightcrawler” and they were an internet sensation, spewing opinions about The Hero Commission, how villainous and cruel they were, how people and their quirks were being suppressed by this glamorized shit show. he snorted at the opinions, half agreeing with what they were saying but not so much on the way they were going about the situation.
every lead led him to a dead end. people knew of them but not who they were, what they looked like and certainly not where they were. he was able to gather some minor information from lackeys that claimed a man at an underground fighting ring might know something about nightcrawler but nothing was set in stone.
before he knew it, he was meeting you again at the bar, feeling guiltier than ever for acting like some righteous hero when he was a borderline vigilante at this point. you didn’t seem to care who he was, what kind of job he had or what his boring routine was like. you wanted to hit deep, spilling dark secrets to each other, like how depressed you felt sometimes living a boring life behind a desk, how he felt like he wasn’t really a hero, how you drank to cope with the pain sometimes, how he was doing exactly the same. eventually, he spilled to you how he was technically still a hero but doing some not so legal digging on the side as he got benched due to the distrust because of his quirk.
you frowned as you watched him confess how he felt, emotion after emotion rolling over him in waves, from sadness to anger to confusion to defeat. you sympathized with every word that came out of his mouth, not understanding what it was like to be a hero but hurting with every word nonetheless.
“well, what’s your next move?” you finally asked after a few moments, watching the gears turn in his head as he processed your words.
“i heard through the grapevine that a certain shady underground fighting ring might have some more information on the whereabouts of nightcrawler.”
you prodded him for all the details, grinning in delight when he mentioned the name of where he wanted to go. without saying another word, you yanked him off his feet, throwing cash down on the bar to pay for your drinks as you dragged him out of the place and down only a few blocks. he spent the whole time bewildered and confused but judging by your determined stance and wicked smile, he figured he knew where you were taking him.
the entrance wasn’t anything spectacular. in fact, it was quite dingy, a cellar amongst garbage. you kicked the trash bags out of the way and pulled the doors open, motioning for Shinsou to follow you, pulling the cellar shut tight behind you as you walked down the dimly lit path to another metal door.
knocking twice and then once more, a man eyed you and Shinsou up and down, asking for the password, which you gleefully cheered out. the man grunted then opened the door fully, telling you to enjoy your time. Shinsou jumped when the clang of metal sounded out but was instantly pulled in towards the scene in front of him. there were people all over the place shouting and cheering as two burly men fought in the ring in front of him. none of the people looked like they should’ve been there. people with bright green dyed hair, women in business suits, men lounging around in sweatpants and holey t-shirts, people of all races and ethnicities gathered together to watch.
it was like a scene out of a movie, the chaos and confusion almost being enough to stun a person where they stood, but Shinsou was trained to react to anxiety inducing situations and quickly began scanning around to find the man that might have known what was going on with nightcrawler.
murmuring a quick “stay here,” Shinsou delved into the crowd, spotting the man in charge quite easily, watching the way he cockily examined the fight and all its inhabitants like he owned them.
“hey, we need to have a little chat,” he stated, staring the man directly in the eyes.
“buddy, i don’t know-” the man was cut off as he became enraptured in Shinsou’s quirk.
it took only a few moments before the man was a blubbering mess, but he still wouldn’t crack on who nightcrawler was.
“listen man, she’ll kill me if she finds out i said anything,” he cried.
that was enough information for him to go off and with one final nod, he slipped back into the shadows to find you eagerly cheering on the fight, shoulder to shoulder with a pretty girl with red hair as you two chatted animatedly about what was happening.
“ready to go princess?” he questioned, watching you flush a bright pink underneath the harsh stage lights before you abruptly turned around to smash your lips against his own.
he stood there shocked for a few moments but before you could fully pull away, his lips were back on yours, this time fervent in worship.
the walk back to your apartment was excruciating, kisses being exchanged as Shinsou kept a watchful eye out for any seedy people, especially since you were so close to the latest villain attacks.
when you finally entered your apartment, it was all teeth gnashing together, clothes being practically torn off one another as you explored every inch of your bodies. his hands on your hips, trailing up to tweak your nipples, swallowing your moans with his mouth. your hands tangled in his messy hair, down to the back of his neck to pull him impossibly closer to you, not wanting to miss a moment of him. you didn’t know what he was going through or what possessed him to call you that nickname but you weren’t going to pretend that you weren’t absolutely infatuated with him.
to him, the nickname just slipped. you were so cheesy, so angelic and innocent and yet badass and strong at the same time. the things you went through in life, how you persevered despite it all, made his heart burst out of his chest. it was as if you almost understood him at an atomic level despite only knowing him for a few days. you shared the same morales, the same commonalities, what you wanted to do with your life, how you could change the world if you wanted to. he drank it all up with deep passion, whispering sweet nothings in your ear as he bottomed out inside of you, desperate to hear your moans and whines, to feel you melt underneath his touch.
after what felt like hours and seconds all at once, you collapsed on his chest, drunk off of sex, sweat clinging to your skin like a sheet. you absentmindedly traced your fingers up and down his chest, admiring the swirl of purple hair tufting from his pecs.
“Shinsou,” you started, waiting for his drowsy hum before continuing, “if you could really change the world for the better, would you do it? no holds barred?”
he contemplated you for a moment before responding, “i don’t think i’m cut out to change the world, especially if it means hurting people in the process.”
you hummed in thought before softly whispering, “i think out of any of the heroes, you’d be the one to really change the world. i mean, you’re the one who’s sitting here, kicked out all because the people who you’re supposed to trust with your life can’t even look you in the eye. you’ve suffered so much, struggled so much and yet here you are fighting to catch this villain.”
you paused to collect your thoughts before starting again, “i mean, i don’t know if i could do the whole killing thing. it seems like killing just leads to more killing, and then when will it end? but i don’t think causing a little chaos to get someone’s attention is so bad. property damage to the capitalistic animals that run this country, to the politicians who can look a depressed person in the eye and tell them they should just die, to the people who turn blind eyes to the injustices of this world. i mean, would that be so bad? would that ever really solve anything?”
Shinsou blinked once, twice, three times before shrugging his shoulders.
“i don’t really know if i can disagree with you on that one. i don’t know if i’d ever be able to go against something like The Hero Commission but if i could, i probably would. it doesn’t really matter now though. I’ll probably get kicked out after i find her anyways.”
“her?”
“nightcrawler. the man said she was a woman. it’s not much but it’s a start.”
you hummed in agreement, snuggling up into his side as you began to drift off into sleep, feeling safer than ever in his arms.
the next morning, Shinsou woke up to find out that the man he talked to the night before was dead. you were nowhere to be found and he began panicking before he heard the shower running and you humming to yourself, clearly happy and satisfied with the previous night's actions.
“hey, princess?” he questioned, knocking on the door and opening it to peek inside, watching the steam billow out.
“what’s up?” you asked, peering from around the curtain.
“i’ve got to check something out. i’ll swing by later, yeah?”
you pouted but nodded, blowing him a kiss before closing the curtain to continue your routine.
the walk to the underground club was much shorter than the night before now that his head was clear. there were police swarming the scene but one flash of his hero license and he was let on premises.
a few questions later and he was able to get all the information he needed. nightcrawler apparently found out the man slipped up and sent a lackey to dispose of him. turns out he was also in the sex trafficking business and used the shady underground fight club to hide the even shadier business of women and children. it turned his stomach to hear what was going on but couldn’t help but feel satisfied a sick man like him was no longer around to live.
he spent the rest of the day combing over clues as to who she may be. according to the police, she was there the night he was murdered. rumors spread that she had been planning her next attack as was using the man for intel. how they managed to get that much information but still didn’t know anything about her threw him off more than he could imagine.
before he had a chance to swing back to your apartment, he got a call from the head of his agency asking for a meeting. he swallowed thickly, wondering if they knew what he was doing behind the scenes. a quick ride and he was standing in front of the agencies shiny glass building trying not to throw up.
“Shinsou, good to see you! please, have a seat,” the corporate man stated, motioning for him to sit down across the desk.
he took two large strides and firmly planted himself down, staring the man in the eyes before nodding.
“now, Shinsou, we really appreciate everything you’ve done for this organization, but with the recent rampant villain attacks, we feel it best to place you on temporary leave until things blow over. that may be a few weeks or a few months but we can’t have our agency tarnished by representing someone who is so…”
“villainous?”
“sure, that word could work. i was going to say odd, but nonetheless. all we need you to do is sign right here saying you understand and we’ll make sure to get the checks sent out to you to cover your pay while you’re away.”
he stared at the paper for a few moments before delicately picking it up with his hands and proceeding to rip it in half. he wasn’t sure what caused him to do that but he didn’t care. at that point, he was done being treated like some villain when he was only trying to be the best hero he could be. with a small chuckle at the man’s stunned face, he muttered an “i quit” before walking out of the office with his head held high.
by the time he arrived at your apartment door late that night, he was absolutely panicking. how could he just quit his job as a hero so easily? he fought tooth and nail to be the best version of himself and it seemed to never be enough. he was in near tears when you opened the door, a confused look on your face before you motioned for him to come in and sit down on your couch, offering him a glass of water as you sat waiting for him to speak.
“Shinsou, what’s wrong?” you finally asked with a sigh, placing your hand on his knee to stop it from bouncing up and down.
“i-i quit my job, i just did it. i don’t know what came over me but they wanted to put me on leave and sign some dumb non-disclosure agreement and i just couldn’t do it. they fucked me over so bad and i just didn’t want to be their lackey anymore.”
you signed once more, flopping back into the couch before abruptly sitting up straight, looking him dead in the eye.
“Shinsou, i need to tell you something, okay? and i need you to listen to the whole story before you freak out on me.”
he nodded and that was the only confirmation you needed to continue.
“i’m nightcrawler. before, i was a hero and a damn good one at that. i was trained by The Hero Commission personally to be a faceless assassin. i did their bidding for the greater good, or so i told myself, but the killing became too much for me when they ordered me to kill children. i just couldn’t do it. and so they began framing me, creating me to be the bad guy that they always wanted. they’ve attempted to kill me before but they created a monster instead, someone who can fight and survive even when the odds are stacked against her. that attack that’s being blamed on me? it was them who attempted to frame me. they killed innocent people all to bring me down. the man at the nightclub? i didn’t kill him. i’ve stayed silent for awhile but i’ve been slowly building up my own army, trying to get people to join my side and my cause to fight against the injustices that are being forced upon us. Shinsou, i understand if you hate me for the rest of your life, but i also know you better than i think i should, and i know that you deep down would want to fight with me and for my cause, for the fall of The Hero Commission and the rise of something that would actually put everyone and their quirks first.”
Shinsou stared at you with a blank look in his eyes. you couldn’t tell what he was thinking or what was going on but you waited for him to respond. you would understand if he turned you in, understand if he killed you on the spot, but you secretly hoped that somewhere, deep down, he felt the same way that you did, fed up with being treated like a criminal, thrown to the streets like wild dogs, hunted and chased for sport.
after a few moments, you put your hands out, wrists up and pushed together as you waited for him to restrain you and take you away. he looked at you once again, this time eyes squinted together as if he was trying to figure out what you were doing.
“you can take me in. i wouldn’t be mad.”
“i’m not turning you in.”
you blinked owlishly at him, unsure of where this was going, but before you were able to speak again, he put one finger up to hush you.
“i get where you’re coming from and honestly, your ideas, your plans, they all make sense, but i don’t think i could ever be a part of that. i don’t think i’m the person that ever gets to make change. i’ll always be some outcast, and that’s okay with me.”
“Shinsou,” you started, not sure how to broach the topic, “you’re exactly what we need. a hero who fought so hard to be the best only to get shunned only when you were trying to help. i left the clue about the bar hoping someone would take notice, someone like you, that wanted to fight for a cause that meant something and now here you are. broken, confused, scarred but still strong enough to fight. we need you Shinsou. i need you.”
you held your hand out for him, waiting. you truly didn’t know if he was going to join, if he wanted to become something that he swore he never was, but they pushed him, treated him like scum and it was time for him to fight back. if he joined you, you would make sure he would never be treated that way again. instead, you would make sure he was someone who would always be included, someone who’s opinions and thoughts matter, someone who mattered.
he took a deep breath, fear and determination etched in his face before he clasped your hand in his own, squeezing firmly and looking you in the eye.
“if they want to paint us as villains, let's give them the best damn show we can.”
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frostedfaves · 3 years
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Repercussions (13)
Masterlist
Pairing: dark!Natasha Romanoff x dark!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader
Summary: Wesley performs at-home surgery on you, and Natasha and Wanda remind you who’s in charge from the other side of the world.
Warnings: dark themes, mentions of stitches, poorly written medical stuff, mild injury, implied nudity, smut 18+ ONLY (cyber sex, implied masturbation and overstimulation, sex toy use and penetration)
A/N: let’s not even talk about the fact that I fully intended on not ending another odd numbered chapter with smut and then did it anyway. but also feel free to thank me, as this is (possibly 👀) the last time I’ll be able to include any smut at all so...
Previous part
-
The ringing of a phone broke the silence of the room, and you groaned against the pillow when you realized it was your iPad. Adjusting the covers and rolling over to one of the nightstands, you attempted to wipe the sleepiness away from your eyes before answering the FaceTime call.
“Printsessa!”
You grinned as Natasha and Wanda appeared on the screen, waving and laughing a bit when they waved back with even bigger smiles.
“The most beautiful women in the world! I see that you’ve landed safely.”
“Yep. Just got in the safe house and this one couldn’t wait to see your face again.” Natasha teasingly nudged Wanda’s shoulder, chuckling when she rolled her eyes and pushed back. “But I’m thinking she’s not the only one missing a girlfriend. Is that my shirt?”
“And Wanda’s scrunchie.” You lifted your wrist for her to see and Wanda cooed at you.
“That’s adorable, baby. So how was yesterday? No trouble with Wesley, right?”
“It’s been incredible! We got to play our favorite card games and watch one of our old shows, and today he’s going to make my favorite omelette!”
“You have a favorite omelette?”
“Wes makes his just like my favorite diner in my hometown. I don’t know how he does it, but it’s amazing every time.” You shrugged, relaxing your shoulders as you exhaled in the form of a happy sigh. “I can’t thank you both enough for bringing him here.”
“We just want to see you happy, printsessa,” Natasha told you with a soft smile that faded as she yawned. “Now if you’ll excuse us, we should get some sleep before we need to get out there in the morning.”
“Wait!” Wanda cut in before you could respond, her lips forming a smirk. “Let us see you.”
You playfully rolled your eyes with a shake of your head before standing up and propping up the iPad against the lamp on the nightstand. Stepping back to bring your full form into the frame, you made a big show of slowly stripping away Natasha’s sleep shirt as they cheered, even louder once they realized you weren’t wearing underwear.
“I kind of regret this now,” Wanda sighed, and you laughed.
“At least you have someone! I just have a room full of fun stuff that I’m not even allowed to use,” you pouted.
“Maybe we’ll change that in a few days. Maybe,” Natasha emphasized when you gasped. “Okay pretty baby, we’ll call again soon.”
“Okay, love you!”
You hung up before either of them could respond, shifting over to Apple music and playing the most rated R and sexual playlist you could find, wanting them to assume you were thinking of them in the shower. You were also hoping it would set the mood, leading them to tire each other out and sleep longer.
You could barely hide the proud smile that appeared on your features when you found out through the bugging device that your plan worked.
“Hey, kiddo!” Wes called as you entered the kitchen, hugging you briefly.
“Hey. Is that what I think it is?”
“You mean the special breakfast you specifically requested and threatened me over?” He raised his eyebrow and faced you as you climbed onto the counter, both of you laughing after a moment. “So how’d it go? Sleeping yet?”
“Like babies. We can head down after we eat.”
-
The two of you made your way to the basement after breakfast, and you led Wesley to the game room first to give him an overly enthusiastic tour of the space, grateful when he caught on fast and played along. You then pulled him away from a pinball machine to bring him to the TV area, pushing him toward the couch as you grabbed the remote from the entertainment area.
“Can’t believe you dangled a pinball game in my face just to snatch it away,” he joked.
“We can go back, dummy. I just had to do that because they know I’m pretty attached to that part of the house,” you told him as you looked for a movie to distract yourself from what was coming, which wasn’t easy with Wesley pulling a satchel of tools from his oversized hoodie in your peripheral vision.
“I know this is not the easiest thing to do, but just relax. I brought some numbing cream to help with the pain.”
You leaned against the armrest of the couch to bring yourself in view of the camera, trying not to react to the coldness of the ointment and really attempting to hold it together when he got started on removing the tracker from your leg.
“Would it be easier to just amputate from the knee down?” you grunted, huffing out a breath when he shook his head. “Yeah, I figured.”
It felt like days passed as you gripped a pillow hard enough to break it to deal with the pain that wasn’t numbed, when your cousin finally broke the silence between the two of you.
“Okay, I’m done. How does it feel?”
“Painful,” you mumbled as you examined your stitched skin. “Damn, you’re good.”
“Thanks.”
Wesley handed you the tiny baggie holding the even smaller tracker, and you slid it in your pocket. He moved to get up and you stopped him.
“Where are you going? Let’s finish the movie.”
“Not ready to walk, are you?” You shook your head this time and he laughed. 
When it ended, the two of you made your way back to the game room, choosing one of the racing games so you didn’t have to stand very long. After he beat you in a few races (quite easily, but you wouldn’t admit it to him), you made your way back upstairs to grab a football and head outside.
You were able to walk pretty normally and even lightly jog, but you were dying to relieve the burning patch of healing skin, so you staged a fall as quickly as you could without seeming suspicious. Wesley fussed over you appropriately, helping you into the house to the point of halfway carrying you, and you sighed in relief when you finally got an ice pack on your ankle.
“I’ve never seen someone so happy to fall.”
“Shut up.”
-
It was nearing midnight when you heard from your girlfriends again, being sure to hold an excited smile on your features as you answered the call.
“Good morning! Or is it afternoon?”
“Late afternoon going into early evening but who cares?” Wanda shrugged with a little laugh.
“What are you doing up so late, printsessa?”
“It’s only 11:58,” you replied after checking the time. “And I was hoping you’d call tonight.”
Natasha frowned at the sight of your pout. “Did something happen with Wesley?”
“Yes, but it’s not his fault. I fell in the yard and hurt my ankle, but he helped me inside and keep ice on it all day. He even helped me up here so I didn’t have to strain much on the stairs.”
“Oh baby, you gotta be careful.”
“I know, Wan, I’m sorry.” Your eyes watered a bit while your pout stayed. “I feel a lot better, though! I just wish it didn’t happen. I have so much energy right now and nothing to do with it.”
You frowned when Natasha and Wanda shared a prolonged look, sighing a little so they’d turn their attention back to you. Wanda offered you a smile while Natasha seemed to be doing something in her lap, and she nodded at Wanda before turning to face you again.
“What’s going on?”
“We think we have a way for you to burn all that energy,” Natasha told you while Wanda sat beside her looking like a kid in a candy store. “Check the nightstand on your right.”
You moved over to investigate, pulling the drawer open and frowned when you only spotted a small key, picking it up with a curious gaze.
“It’s just a...wait.” You picked up the iPad with wide eyes. “Is this to the special room?”
Natasha nodded and you squealed in excitement, jumping to your feet and making sure to wince a bit when your left foot made contact with the carpet.
“Careful baby, please!” Wanda begged. “You’re going to give us a heart attack.”
“Sorry!” 
You made your way down the hall and unlocked the door, stepping in and closing and locking the door behind you as they instructed. The iPad was placed in their preferred spot so they could watch you strip again before telling you exactly what to pick out. Their object of choice was a big, sparkly dildo meant to be attached to a flat surface, the headboard of a king sized bed in this case.
“This one is kinda big,” you remarked as you knelt beside the dildo to examine the length.
“But baby,” Natasha began with a falsely sweet tone that you’d grown accustomed to hearing in the bedroom, one that had you squeezing your thighs together immediately. “Don’t you want to be good for us?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Good girls listen. Are you a good girl?”
“Yes, Natty.”
“Then you can take it.”
You took a deep breath and positioned yourself, reaching for your clit between your parted legs and trying not to gasp in reaction to what you felt.
“You’re already soaked, aren’t you baby?”
You nodded and closed your eyes as you kept working your middle finger across the sensitive nub, slowly backing up onto the erect length and whimpering as it filled you up.
“That’s it, baby,” Wanda called out breathily, and you didn’t even need to raise your head to know she was touching herself, as was Natasha. “You’re so good at this.”
You paused for a moment when your ass bumped into the headboard, giving yourself time to adjust to being stretched open like this on your own. Pulling your hand away to rest both of them on the bed in front of you for support, you glanced at the iPad to see both of them watching you, and you stifled the moan that left you when you realized they were getting each other off.
“Like what you see, baby?” You nodded in response, your eyes glued to their crossed arms just barely moving. “Then get going, or we’ll turn the camera off.”
You began to move your hips in a slow back-and-forth motion, hissing and moaning each time the toy hit a spot that one of your girlfriends usually got for you.
“Faster.”
You obeyed immediately, gradually speeding up to a pace that had the bed shaking a bit under your movements, but you couldn’t find it in you to care about the safety of it all when you were this close to the edge. Your climax came faster than you expected and you managed to keep somewhat of a rhythm through it, slumping forward and panting as you came down.
“Again.” You looked to the screen in disbelief, biting your lip when you noticed Wanda’s head thrown back, her hands holding onto Natasha’s arm that seemed to move much faster now. “I didn’t stutter. Fuck yourself again.”
So you did, and another time and another time until you finally tapped out, sliding away from the toy and falling forward onto the bed. You lifted your head to see your fully naked girlfriends smiling at you, each of them a bit flushed from their own activity as they watched you.
“You were such a good girl tonight,” Wanda praised, smiling when you simply whimpered in response. “I can’t wait to get back there and fuck you myself.”
“Goodnight, baby. We love you.”
The call ended as you rolled onto your back to catch your breath for a moment. When your legs were no longer shaking uncontrollably, you stood up the best you could and grabbed the dildo after slipping on a robe, dropping it onto your pile of clothes as you grabbed that too. Once you were back in the shared room and the toy was cleaned, you slipped it into the bag you’d hidden in the closet. You were going to miss sex with them, and something had to take their place.
-
Tags: @littlegasps @imnotasuperhero @nat-km-mh @natasha-danvers @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @creepingwolfberry @bebe404 @seventeen0 @buckmesidewaysandcallmesteve @becka107 @muted-stoneheart @its-a-long-way-to-ba-sing-se @wannabe-fic-reader @messuhp @mjaudrey @emilyprentisswife @cherrieloco @fayhar @trikruismybitch @sxphiaswitch @beforeoursecrets @want-to-watch-it-burn @just-a-normalpersons @multi-images @witchxaf @natashadeservedmore @haiiiloeee2 @darkangelxoxo @sakurat123
342 notes · View notes
restlessfandoming · 3 years
Text
“the president and the troublemaker” (part 13) (chilumi fic)
“Lumine is the student council president and Childe is the school’s number one troublemaker. They cross paths more than they’d like. Especially when Childe finds out Lumine’s big secret. Highschool AU à la Kaichou wa Maid-sama.”
[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6] [part 7] [part 8] [part 9] [part 10] [part 11] [part 12]
[Fic Masterlist] // [AO3 Link] // [Main AO3]
* * * 
im really sorry for the massive time between each update. i am truly in the struggle  * * * 
the president and the troublemaker (part 13)
“I’m a professional fighter,” Lumine said to Venti. 
Venti stared at her for a long second, before slowly raising one of his brows. “What are you talking about, LuLu?” 
She bit her lip. “You know, like the UFC. That’s my job. I’m a MMA fighter.” 
Again, Venti stared at her, then glanced between her and the unconscious men on the floor. 
Lumine braced herself for him to laugh, to ridicule her, or even shy away in fear—how terrifying it was that she was powerful enough to do all that and even more. He would be disappointed, a bright student like her getting involved with the activities of delinquents. 
“That’s…,” Venti started. Then, he went to Lumine, grabbing her hands, eyes bright. “So cool!”
Lumine looked at him, silent with shock. 
“Wow, I would have never guessed!” he went on. “But I should have known. You’ve always been so strong.” 
“So you’re not...disappointed?” she asked. 
“Of course not. I would never be disappointed in you,” he said, giving her a soft smile. 
Lumine’s eyes stung. From relief? From gratefulness? “Thank you, Venti.” 
His smile widened. “Just wait until everyone at school hears about this! They’re gonna think you’re so cool, and you’re gonna get so popular, and—”
Lumine pulled her hand away from his, a trembling panic overtaking her nerves. “Venti, no one can find out about this,” she blurted. 
His brows furrowed. “Why not? You should be proud of what you do.”
Lumine stood in silence, ruminating. Proud of what I do? 
Venti started reaching out towards her when there was an audible THUMP from the ground. 
Childe stood from where he had hit one of the men on the floor. “He was waking up,” he said after taking in Venti and Lumine’s worried looks. “We should leave now.” 
Lumine let her gaze linger on Venti—his brows furrowed from either confusion or frustration or both—before turning to Childe. 
“Yeah…let’s go back the way we came and try to backtrack,” she suggested. She and Childe started to make their way back.
Venti didn’t budge. “How does Childe know?” 
“What?” Lumine answered. 
“You said you don’t want anyone to know.” His teal green eyes narrowed, ever so slightly, at Childe. “So he’s an exception?” 
“He found out on his own,” Lumine said. Why is he doing this right now? We need to go—
“And I’m her coach,” Childe said, crossing his arms. There was the tiniest curve of a smile on his lips.
Venti let out a meek laugh. “He’s your coach? So do you spend a lot of time together?” 
She threw a glare at Childe. “Yes—Well, I don’t know. I guess.” She shook her head. “This isn’t the time to be talking about this. Let’s go.” She marched off without another word.
As she walked back the direction they came from, she heard the two boys footsteps behind her. She kept her pace up, however, not wanting to speak to either of them at the moment. Any time either of them entered her peripheral vision, she sped up away from them. Stupid boys and their stupid jealously. 
Eventually, after trying to navigate the twists and turns of the alleyways, the group had somehow ended up in a completely new location. 
Lumine first noticed when the scent of salty sea waves hit her nose. Then, was the shuddering of ocean waves lapping against the shore line, and the groaning of metal ships floating in the water.
“Looks like we’re at a dock,” Childe remarked. 
“How did we even get here?” Venti wondered. 
Lumine rubbed at her forehead. “How do we get out?”
The three of them stood silently, thinking, watching as a group of fishermen unloaded from a large docked ship, and funneled into a nearby building—tall and silvery sleek. 
Childe murmured something to himself before heading towards the building himself. “Follow me,” he said to Lumine and Venti. 
The two shared a questioning look, before following Childe forward. 
They all entered the building, finding themselves in a large lobby, business men and women scooting past. Childe instructed Venti and Lumine to wait in the corner as he went alone to approach the receptionist. 
Lumine watched curiously as the receptionist looked at Childe, a mix of wary and annoyance. Childe started saying something to the lady, his face lifted in confidence. The longer he went on, the receptionist’s expression shifted to disbelief, slowly picking up the telephone and making a call. 
The receptionist kept her eyes on Childe while talking on the phone, with Childe smiling right back at her. As the phone call went on, her face stretched into shock, eventually handing the phone right to Childe with wide eyes. 
Lumine furrowed her brows as Childe took the phone, turning away so she no longer saw his face. What in the world is he doing?
When he finished his conversation, Childe turned back to the receptionist, but kept hold on the phone. He gestured to Lumine, and after a nod from the receptionist, he waved her over. 
Lumine awkwardly walked up to the desk, ignoring Venti’s whispered questions behind her. Upon reaching Childe, he held out the phone to her. 
“All yours,” he said. There was something in his expression Lumine hadn’t quite seen before—a sheepishness of sorts, a humbled look that didn’t seem possible for him. 
She hesitantly took the phone, eyes looking to the receptionist who placed the receiver towards her with a smile—much different than her initial standoffish disposition. 
Lumine looked down at the keypad, her fingers already pressing the only number she could remember in the moment. The phone barely rang once before someone immediately picked up.
“Hello?” Aether’s panicked voice crackled on the other end. 
Lumine let out a shaky sigh of relief. “Aether, it’s me—”
“LUMINE!” he interrupted. “Are you okay? Where are you?” 
The slew of Aether’s worried questions bombarded her ear, and she almost laughed. “I’m fine,” she enunciated over his questioning. “I’m safe here with Childe. And Venti.”
“God, you two…,” Aether murmured. “Where are you?”
“Where are we?” Lumine repeated, looking up at the receptionist. The lady quickly pulled out a business card, the address of the building clearly printed; Lumine repeated the address to Aether. “We wound up here because I chased after some asshole who stole all our stuff.” 
There was shuffling on Aether’s end, and she heard him talking to someone in the background. The line crinkled as he returned to the phone. “Okay, I just told Miss Ninguang,” he said. “She wants to talk to you.” 
Lumine swallowed the lump in her throat. The school principal. Oh, I’m definitely in trouble… 
“Miss Lumine?” Ninguang asked. 
“Yes, hello, Miss Ninguang,” Lumine answered. “I am so sorry for the inconvenience; I—”
“Please, do not worry yourself,” Ninguang said, her voice reassuringly mellow. “I am just glad to hear you and your friends are safe.” A chuckle. “We were really quite besides ourselves at your disappearance.” 
Lumine nearly cried in relief. “We-We’re not in trouble?”
“Of course not,” the principal said. “We just want to make sure to get you back safely.” 
“Thank you. Thank you, Miss Ninguang.” 
There was a pause, and Lumine could imagine Ninguang’s small smile. “Now, for the safety of everyone, we’ll meet back up in the morning. For now, it would be best for everyone to rest for the night.”
The night? Lumine glanced out of the large office windows, and blinked at the darkened sky in disbelief. Have we really been lost that long?! 
“From the address Aether gave me, there should be an inn within walking distance from where the three of you are. Stay there for the night, and we will be there to pick you up in the morning.” 
“Stay in the inn for the night? Miss Ninguang, I’m so sorry, but all of our money was stolen—”
“Do not worry. We will call them and make the reservation for you. Please, just rest up. I am sure it has been a stressful day for you.” 
“Th-Thank you, Miss Ninguang.” 
“I trust you. Stay safe.” Then, the line clicked off. 
Lumine slowly handed the phone back to the receptionist, legs shaky from the relief flooding her body. Finally, the light at the end of the tunnel… 
“Well?” Childe asked. “What’s the plan?”
Lumine relayed the information about the nearby inn. 
“Will you be needing a car ride there, Mister Ajax?” the receptionist asked Childe. 
Lumine’s eyes flashed to him. Ajax?
“No, thank you,” he quickly said. “We’d better get going now.” He sauntered away from the desk.
Lumine jogged up to him. “Ajax?” she questioned. 
She saw his body lock up. “It’s nothing,” he said.
A scoff. “Obviously not. How did you—”
“What’s going on?” Venti asked, skipping over to them. He looked over at the receptionist desk. “What was that all about?”   
“We’ve got rooms at a nearby inn thanks to Lady Ninguang,” Childe said. “Let’s get there quickly before the night gets even darker.” He rushed out of the building. 
Venti shot Lumine a confused look. “Uh, what’s wrong with him?”
“Who knows?” Lumine muttered. 
Childe had always been very straightforward with her, rarely hiding any secrets. 
So why was he hiding something now?
* * *
The inn—Wangshu Inn—was a quaint wooden building lit up with glowing lanterns and paintings plastered along the walls. The lobby and outdoor restaurant had a few groups strewn about, a diverse grouping of travelers. Thankfully, Lumine, Childe, and Venti didn’t look too out of place. 
The three approached the lady at the front desk, a woman named Verr Goldet, with Lumine asking about their reservation. 
“Yes, we just received that phone call about your situation,” she said kindly. “We have the last two rooms ready for you.” 
“Oh,” Lumine uttered. She had assumed there would be three rooms, one for each of them. “I guess Venti and Childe can share a room—”
“I am not sharing a room with him,” Childe said. 
“Ehe, I wasn’t going to say anything, but I will not be sharing a room with the likes of him either,” Venti retorted. 
“Oh, I am so sorry,” Verr Goldet interrupted. “I didn’t realize there are three of you! The last two rooms are single bed only.” 
Lumine’s jaw barely had time to drop before Venti was pulling on her arm. “Let’s have a sleepover like when we were younger, LuLu! We can build forts, watch movies—”
Childe’s hand slid down Lumine’s arm, shoving’s Venti’s hands away. “The only way that’s happening is in your dreams, buddy.”
Lumine shrugged off both of the boys, leaning in towards Verr Goldet. “There are absolutely no other rooms available?” Any combination of the three of them would surely result in a dead body in the morning. 
Verr Goldet started typing away at her computer. “I’ll double check for you!” 
The sound of Childe and Venti hissing insults at each other made Lumine snap around. “Just. Go to the rooms. I will figure where I’m staying for the night. Alone,” she said definitively, pulling the two keys off the counter and holding them out in front of her. 
There was a pause as the two of them stared at the keys. Childe was the first to grab one. 
“Guess this is goodnight then,” he said. He pressed a swift kiss to Lumine’s forehead. “I’ll see you in the morning, Lumi.” Just as quickly, he left, disappearing into the elevator, leaving Lumine’s forehead (along with the rest of her face) to melt with boiling heat. 
Before she had time to process that, Venti’s cheeks puffed, and he planted a kiss on the side of Lumine’s face. “Goodnight, LuLu. If you still want to pig out on junk food, you know where to find me,” he said, jingling his room key. He quickly disappeared into the elevator as well.
Stupid boys. Stupid boys. Stupid boys. Lumine’s mind buzzed. And who was causing this sensation? 
“I am so sorry, ma’am,” Verr Goldet said, bringing Lumine back to reality. “On such short notice we truly gave you the last two rooms.” She clicked around on the computer a little more. “I can find another inn for you to stay at if you’d like.”
Lumine took a deep breath in. Her body was already feeling weighty with fatigue, and she didn’t want to complicate the situation even more. “No, that’s alright. I’ll just...stay in one of the rooms.” 
Verr Goldet nodded. “Which room would you like a key to?”
* * * 
Standing outside the door, Lumine suddenly felt a pang of anxiety burn in her gut. Was she really about to do this? Was it a completely idiotic choice of hers? It wasn’t too late: she could turn right back around and take Verr Goldet’s offer of staying at a separate inn. 
But it wasn’t like she could avoid this choice forever, lest the two boys kept fighting for eternity.
And this was the right choice. She knew it in her heart, no matter how much pain it would cause the other one. She cared for them both, deeply. But in different ways. One as a good friend, the other...something more. 
She started to push the key into the lock, but stopped herself as images of her walking in someone changing brought blood rushing to her head. 
She cleared her throat and knocked on the door instead. 
Seconds passed, and Lumine’s heartbeat picked up, just a bit. Was it anticipation? 
The door opened, and Childe stood there, fully clothed, thankfully. 
He stared at her in silence, as if in disbelief, not sure if she was really there. 
“Move,” was all Lumine could say, feeling heat creep up her spine.
He blinked, and stood to the side, still silent. Lumine stepped through the doorway, moving her way to the corner of the room, and plopping herself on the armchair. Wordlessly, she yanked a blanket from the bed, and wrapped herself in it, then closing her eyes. 
Maybe neither of them would speak. Maybe it would make the situation more bearable. Childe, please, don’t say anything—
“Take the bed,” he said, pulling the blanket off of her. “I’m not having you sleep in an armchair for the night.” 
She tried pulling the blanket back. “It’s fine. You take the bed.” 
A tsk. “Why are you always so difficult?” 
“I am not diff—”
Childe picked her up from the waist, tossing her on the bed. Then he tossed the blanket on top of her. “There. Just sleep now.” 
Her chest fluttered as her breath shortened under the blanket. “And you say I’m the difficult one,” she grumbled. She kept the blanket over her face for as long as she could, not wanting to make eye contact with Childe. 
After a while, she peeled it off for air, and couldn’t help but glance over to the armchair where Childe was sitting, eyes closed. It was obvious he was uncomfortable, his lanky legs crossed awkwardly, and his neck looking oddly stiff. 
Lumine let out a disgruntled groan, and turned on her side so her back was to Childe. “Sleep in the bed before you break your neck in your sleep,” she said. “Just...stay on your side.” 
A long pause. Lumine thought he had fallen asleep. 
“Are you sure about that, Lumi?” he asked. 
“Do it before I change my mind and make you sleep in the bathtub instead.” 
He chuckled lightly. The bed weighed down as he climbed on. Lumine glanced over her shoulder, finding Childe’s back turned to her. 
“I’m not going to do anything you don’t want me to do, Lumi,” he said, as if sensing her eyes on his back. 
She quickly turned her head back, heat flushing into her cheeks. “Good. Because I’d beat you up.”
“I know you would.” 
They laid there in silence, in the dark for a while, backs to each other. 
Lumine couldn’t fall asleep. And she was sure Childe couldn’t either. 
“Why’d that lady call you Ajax?” Lumine asked quietly. 
“Curious about me? I’m flattered.” 
“Nevermind. Goodnight.” 
“It’s my birth name,” he said. “And that place is actually owned by my father.” 
Images of his luxurious mansion flashed in Lumine’s mind. 
“That entire dock, actually, is mostly his. He, uh, runs a very big fishing company. Very famous. Very rich.” 
“Oh,” was all Lumine could utter. That amount of wealth was something she could only dream about. “And you don’t tell anyone because...?”
“We all have our secrets, don’t we, Pres?” he reminded. “People are greedy. If anyone truly knew who I was, all I’d ever be used for is my money.” 
“That’s...very true,” she responded. How...sad. “Is there a reason why you’re not at some big fancy boarding school then?” 
Childe laughed. “Can you imagine me in that kind of environment? I’m not interested in that at all.” 
The bed shifted as Childe moved around. Lumine glanced over her shoulder again, finding Childe laying on his back, eyes open and staring at the ceiling.
“Besides,” he continued. “If I had gone to one of those schools, I wouldn’t have met you.”
Lumine turned onto her back as well. “You would’ve met me anyways,” she murmured. “You ran into me at the arena, remember?” 
“You think so?”
“Our paths would’ve crossed eventually...right?” 
A beat of silence. Fluttering of breaths. 
“Do you regret meeting me?” 
Something about his words, the way he said them, made Lumine’s entire body seize up. It was almost the quietest she had ever heard Childe speak, the tiniest tinge of fear, like his heart had hissed it out before he even really knew what he was saying. 
“No,” she answered, just as quiet, her heart responding to his. 
Another slight pause. Then a small exhale from Childe, breath lilting in a soft laugh. 
“You know. It’s been quite a lonely existence. Before you,” he said. 
Lumine looked over at him. His hand was resting on his chest—right where that huge scar was. 
It was rare to see him so vulnerable, and her to be just as such. Her past self wouldn’t have been able to fathom this happening with Childe of all people.
But just like she said, she didn’t regret it. 
He understood her, better than herself sometimes. And there wasn’t anyone in Childe’s life who came close to knowing who he really was. They both wore facades of sorts, but not around each other. Not anymore. 
Her hand started reaching out without thought. It was the right thing to do, to comfort him, to connect with him. 
Lumine’s hand sat atop Childe’s. “You’re not so lonely anymore, right?”
She felt his hand flex under hers, hesitant. Then, he relaxed, and his fingers intertwined with hers. “Of course not.” 
The warmth from their hold sparked something in her. The warmth of a promise she had made.
She finally turned onto her side, completely facing him. “Did I do it?” Her amber eyes met with his. “Did I save you?” 
He stared at her, gaze lost in gaze. He smiled, small, but real, genuine, from the heart. “Yes.” He brought her hand to his lips, lips brushing over her knuckles. “You saved me, Lumine.” 
She stared at him, wide-eyed with anticipation, heart beating in a frenzy. She swore her chest was going to burst. 
“I love you,” she said. 
Childe was frozen, speechless for once.
He’s surprised. He was never surprised. He was always so calm and collected. 
Should I have even said it? No, she had to. She was going to explode otherwise.
“Lumi, are you serious—”
“Yes, I’m serious. I can’t explain it; I just do and I know it sounds crazy, but you—”
He pulled her close and kissed her. 
He kissed her, and this time, she kissed him back. 
* * *
[part 14]
161 notes · View notes
draconic-ichor · 2 years
Text
In the Steel Steeds Heart
Chapter 30: Wine for the Lady: Part 2
Warnings: strong language, sexual themes, blood/gore, mentions/memories of trauma, violence
Summary: The Heisenberg couple bring in the captured tourists, and Juniper have very conflicting feelings to follow…
Feedback appreciated. 18+
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They were able to quickly make it over to Donna’s forest. It took much longer to get safely over the bridges, as they groaned and shook under Juniper’s beastial weight. Once on the other side, Heisenberg hopped down again, instructing her to go slowly.
The mists and heavy scent of flowers made it harder to track the smell. Heisenberg was careful to keep a hand on her collar, worried about hallucinations.
Juniper could hear whispers, broken words finding their way into her beastial ears. Thankfully, however, whatever way the twisted visions worked was much lessened on her mind now that it was blanketed under the red haze.
Screams met their ears, shrill cries of a man. Rounding the corner they found the culprit writhing on the ground. His movement looked as if he was trying to fight off an invisible foe, yellow pollen on his clothes and being shook into the air. A few paces away Donna stood quietly and eerily, almost unmoving. Seeing the pair, she slowly raised a finger, pointing at the man.
“Thanks Donna.” Heisenberg frowned, walking closer to the man, “We’ll take care of him.”
Donna nodded, tilting her head to watch as Heisenberg incapacitated the man, knocking him out cold and shackling him like the first.
“Mother wants us to meet at the stone church.” He told the woman, growling out under his breath afterwards, “As if we don’t know exactly where these fucks are going…”
Donna nodded again, heading back towards her house to get Angie.
“Don’t go running off.” Heisenberg warned as he placed the man on top of the first, “I’m going to walk back.”
Juniper huffed but nodded.
It was slower going but Heisenberg did not want to overburden her. They couldn’t have real conversation, Juniper’s twisted mouth making words a challenge. Instead they had to walk in silence.
~
They were the second group to show, Lady Dimitrescu and her daughters were already waiting. Heisenberg took the prisoners in first then came back out for Juniper.
“Ok, fun’s over.” Heisenberg started, taking off his coat.
Giving a huff, Juniper concentrated on turning back. With the wet sound of muscles shrinking and the cracking of bones she reverted back into a human. The heavy metal collar she wore fell down her body, clanking against the ground.
She stood on shaking legs, trying to regain her balance.
Her hair was a tangled mess, hands and feet covered in dirt. She hugged her naked form, feeling sore and extremely hungry. Heisenberg handed her his coat. She put it on, almost drowning in it. It smelled of sweat and felt heavy, but she was covered.
“It smells.” Juniper wrinkled her nose.
“You do too.” Heisenberg snapped, “Come on.”
They entered the stone church, the floor cool under Juniper’s bare feet compared to the sun baked soil outside. Lady Dimitrescu sat in her normal spot, her daughters playing with the captured women.
They were bound and gagged, tight clothes ripped here and there. The girls giggled at their fearful expression, blocking them mostly from Juniper's view. She tried to ignore them for now.
As they walked towards Heisenberg’s pew Juniper felt yellow eyes on her. She turned to look up at the tall woman, surprised to see sympathy.
“Oh Dear, you look terrible.” Lady Dimitrrescu frowned down at her, pulling a handkerchief from her dress. She handed it down to Juniper.
“Thank you, Ma'am.” Juniper took it, wiping her hands clean as best she could. When she tried to hand it back, Lady D’s face flashed disgust, looking over the now brown cloth. “You keep it Dear.” She waved it away.
“Oh ok.” Juniper shrunk away a bit, putting it in Heisenberg’s coat pocket. They took their seats waiting.
Donna and Angie were the next to enter, Moreau soon to follow. The twisted man was very distressed to be the last sibling to arrive, usually trying to win brownie points for punctuality.
It didn’t take Mother Miranda long on this day, her eyes glowing with excitement. After entering the church she went over to inspect the captured. Alicina gushed about her daughter’s hunting skills, her words finding mostly deaf ears. After she was content with her findings, she took her spot at the center, instructing everyone to sit.
“Thank you my children, Dimitrescu and Heisenberg, for your assistance in bringing in these new subjects.” Miranda gave a quick smile, “Now we will decide where each will be useful.” She folded her hands, waiting for one of the siblings to start.
“I’ll take the brunette.” Lady D pointed her long cigar stick at the woman.
The woman froze, eyes large and fearful as she looked up at the giant lady. Her eyes flickered around the room, terror oozing from each pore as she looked at each lord in turn.
Even when looking at Juniper, she only saw monsters. Juniper sucked in a breath, part of her went out for the girl: foggy memories on that same floor mirroring those doe eyes.
The other part of her was, in fact, the monster they saw her as. No matter how much she tried to deny it, she enjoyed the hunt. Her heart beat with joy as she ran after the trail of blood. She reveled in the victory when the prey was found.
She felt like a coin, two drastic sides of conflicting ideals. She flipped between compassion for the victims and jadedness to those deemed lower than the lords. She even made a point to not learn villagers names.
But now, looking into the wet eyes of this woman, she realized the only reason she was on this side of the game board was pure luck…Luck of biology, of circumstance, luck of life…she didn’t know.
“Her blood will make splendid wine.” Alicina’s lips split into a predatory smile. The words brought Juniper from her trance, cold sweat on her lower back.
The woman tried to scream through the gag, causing the daughters to giggle with sick glee.
Juniper sucked in a breath. Her eyes widened seeing one of the daughter’s sickles slide out. It just grazed the woman’s skin, the daughter wiping away the crimson drop with a finger to bring to her lips. It bubbled up memories of her own time under their claws. The room swam a bit, her mind clouding over. She shut her eyes tightly.
Stop!
Juniper blinked her eyes open, realizing the room was looking at her. Had she spoken the word out loud?
She shrank a bit as Lady Dimitrrescu stood.
Before she could speak Mother Miranda interjected, “Allow Lady Heisenberg to speak her mind.” Her sharp eyes fell on her now, “Why should we not let Lady Dimitrescu take the girl?”
“…um.” Juniper pulled Heisenberg’s coat closer around herself, not thinking this through at all, “Maybe turning her into wine isn’t the right thing to do?”
“You didn’t complain about our practices while you drank at our table.” The tall woman frowned, “Or would you rather take her place?” The threat sent fear coursing through her veins.
Heisenberg stood, baring his teeth, “Don’t fucking threaten her!” His hammer snapped into his hand as he continued, “She just doesn’t want to see your fucking bugs playing with your food!”
“Do not address my daughters!” Lady D hissed, stepping forward.
“Keep them locked up if they can’t act like people!”
“You’re one to talk, you disgusting excuse for a man! You wouldn’t know how to be proper if it was branded onto your thick skull!”
“Silence!” Mother Miranda’s wings unfurled, hearing enough. The siblings shrunk back.
“The virgin will go to house Dimitrescu, to do with what she pleases. The rest will be given to House Moreau, to be implanted with cadou.” She eyed Juniper for a long moment before adding, “Unless there are any more objections?”
When none came she called an end to the meeting.
Heisenberg practically dragged Juniper outside, the muffled cries of the captured behind them.
He kept a strong hand on her as he deftly walked back towards the factory, fuming.
Juniper looked at her feet, feeling like a child.
When they made it into the woods between the village and factory he finally stopped, turning towards her.
“What the fuck were you doing?!” He barked.
“I didn’t mean to.” She began, “It just came out.”
“Well it could have really fucked you over.” His voice was hard, masking his worry, “Are you hell bent on giving me a heart attack today?”
Juniper looked at him with wet eyes.
“Don’t fucking start.” He huffed, pulling her into a hug. He held onto her tightly, all the fear still biting at his core.
“You talk back to her a lot.” Juniper murmured.
“It would be so much worse if she decided to run you through the middle, Buttercup.” He retorted, “I can heal fast…you can’t.”
Juniper nodded.
“Let’s get home.” Heisenberg whispered.
~
Juniper sat in Heisenberg’s coat at the table, feet still dirty and hair a mess about her. But she happily ate away at a sandwich, humming a bit. After turning she was always overtaken with a cavernous hunger. Heisenberg figured it was because of all the energy she used.
She heard the bathroom door open, turning to see the man of the factory walk out. He was only in pants and a green tank top, smoothing wet wiry hair back.
“You gonna keep my coat, kitten?” He smiled.
“Mhm.” She nodded through a mouthful.
“Well the shower is all yours.” He shrugged, sitting on the bed edge to pull his boots and socks on, “I’m going to go and get some things done.”
He didn’t want to stay and risk being questioned more about his involvement in Juniper’s coming to the village.
She knew he was escaping, but wanted to get fed and clean before going after him. She just finished eating as he snuck out. She cleaned her plate, hanging his coat up before padding into the bathroom.
It took a good while to scrub the dirt from under her nails and off her feet, taking even longer to detangle her long curls. Now clean she stood and just enjoyed the shower.
It gave her time to think…
Heisenberg said he brought her to the village, but what did that even mean? She could hardly remember the first days but one thing she could recall is awakening in a village woman’s bed, being patched up and cared for. So he hadn’t dragged her right to Miranda.
Can she even be mad at him?
She thought. She herself just drug innocent humans straight into Miranda’s claws. Hell, she even enjoyed it. The chase was fun to her.
She took a deep breath. He wasn’t entirely to blame for it, Mother Miranda not giving much choice. But a different matter altogether was the fact he kept it a secret from her.
Now that did get under her skin.
~
Now clean and clear headed, Juniper descended towards the workshop. Heisenberg was easy to find, sitting at a metal desk. He wrote diligently away, pretending not to hear her enter.
“You’re a hypocrite, you know that?” Juniper leaned against the doorframe, crossing her arms.
Heisenberg looked forward, “Well…yea. But why this time?”
Juniper had to hide the smile that shadowed her lips, “You really chewed me out about hiding the pregnancy from you.” She tapped her boot, “But the whole time you were hiding something pretty important from me?”
“Can you blame me?” He asked honestly, swiveling his chair around to look at her. His gaze was hard.
“Well what was all that about ‘us being a team’ then?” She pressed.
Heisenberg frowned, admitting, “By the time we were close enough to say something it never felt right.”
Juniper snorted, making annoyance burn his stomach.
“What did you want me to do?” He stood, “First time we fucked, having a smoke after and just say: ‘By the way darling, it’s my fault you’re here.’?”
“Fair.” Juniper snickered, closing the distance between them. She placed her hands on his chest, playing with a button on his shirt for a second.
“For what it’s worth…I’m sorry.” His voice was low, a gloved hand moved to envelop her own. She looked up now, giving an understanding smile.
“How about…” her voice was soft, “We call it even?”
“Okay.” Heisenberg nodded, squeezing her hands. After a long moment he changed the subject, “How are you feeling after everything? With the pup I mean.”
“I’m fine!” She insisted, “No pain, no discomfort.”
Heisenberg nodded, “Well I hope you had fun because we are not doing that again.”
“You’re such a wet blanket.” Juniper giggled,
Heisenberg growled, pulling her into a hug. He nuzzled into her Raven curls, “I gotta protect my little Mama.”
Juniper’s heart fluttered at the new name, hugging him back.
30 notes · View notes
wannabe-fic-writer · 3 years
Text
WandaNat x Reader : Safe
Summary: What is it that they say about a woman in uniform?
Warning: Violence
Word Count: 2,481
* * * * * *
“Lieutenant Colonel Y/ln.”
Hearing your name, you stand up straight, the brown paper grocery bag in your hand clutched a little tighter as you do an about-face. 
The mystery man himself, Nick Fury, steps from the shadows of your apartment buildings hallway. Right off you can tell he wants something from you, if not for him just showing up, it’s written in the smirk on his lips.
“It’s been a while Lieutenant Colonel.”
Steam billows from the mug as it fills with coffee, and after dropping a spoonful of sugar in it, you carry the mug over to Fury. Then move to lean against the wall opposite his spot on the couch.
“I don’t think I’m the fit for your special team Nicholas.” 
After you had invited the man in, he’d informed you that he wants you to join the Avengers. His reasons somewhere along the lines of you having special skills and being able to relate to a number of the people on the team. 
You’d given it a little thought as you fixed him some coffee. 
Having just left active duty, you assumed you would have some down time until your next deployment. Not that you were going to be “relaxing” anyway, but still.
“That’s where you’re wrong.” He sips from the mug and sets it on the table,“ you are more than fit. And I’m certain you’d appreciate the distraction.”
You lift your head, taking in his words. They hold deeper meaning and you know what he knows. He knows you go to group therapy with other Marine Corps members, both active and retired. He knows you struggle with dealing with what you’d seen out there. 
“I have an obligation to serve my country Nicholas. That would come before your special team.” You inform him while also avoiding that topic.
He nods,“ an obligation you won’t have to neglect. The second you’re assigned for deployment you can go, until then, you’re an Avenger.”
Just like that, one meeting with the man, and you were walking up the graveled path to the Avengers compound. Fury waiting for you beside the door.
The man smiles at you,“ everyone’s inside waiting to meet you. Follow me.”
Walking into the usual meeting room, Natasha pulls a chair out for her girlfriend. Wanda smiling up at her softly.
The woman takes a seat as well, looking to Steve,“ what’re we meeting for again?” 
Steve shrugs,“ Fury didn’t go into detail.” 
Everyone in the room waits patiently for the arrival of Fury, filling the time with light chatter until the door is pulled open and the man walks in.
Eyes widen at the form that enters behind him.
Natasha’s gaze subconsciously wanders down the uniformed woman. She takes in the way the pristine navy blue and red striped pants fit her legs and the form fitting coat adorned with medals. 
Trailing up her body only to be a little shocked when she meets the woman’s striking e/c eyes. 
The two hold eye contact until Fury speaks.
“Ladies and gentlemen, this is Lieutenant Colonel Y/n Y/ln. Lieutenant these are the Avengers.” Fury gestures from the uniformed woman to the group surrounding the table.
All eyes follow you as you go around formally introducing yourself. Starting by shaking Steve Rogers hand as well as Bucky’s. Then saluting Rhodey and mentioning that it’s an honor to meet him.
When you reach her girlfriend, Natasha notices the seemingly nervous pause Wanda has, before rising and shaking your hand. She holds it a little longer, held titling to the side and Natasha knows her girlfriend is reading you.
Based off your expression, you know as well. And you let it happen. She let’s go before it becomes obvious to everyone else and with a nod you move to Natasha.
Up close the woman can’t help but appreciate how good the uniform looks on you. How the coat fits but still leaves much to imagine. 
“Natasha.” She introduces personally, shaking your hand.
Again you nod,“ it’s a pleasure.”
From there you shake Tony’s hand and Peter’s, who does so over excitedly. You then reassume your spot beside Fury.
“Lieutenant Y/ln will be joining your ranks until her next deployment. Simply lending a helping hand on missions.” Fury explains your presence.
Hands linked behind your back, you look at them all, adding,“ but only when need be. I’m not here to take anyone’s position, nor will I be overstepping.” 
Wanda’s little smile at your words isn’t missed by Natasha and she makes a mental note to ask about it later.
“In that case, let me give you the grand tour.” Tony cuts through the silence, walking over to you.
“Lead the way.” You gesture for him to walk first and follow after.
Fury leaves shortly after. In the silence, everyone non-verbally agrees to make you feel welcome unless you prove you should be treated otherwise. 
And it’s a decision that everyone is glad they make. Especially Natasha and Wanda. 
There had been an instant physical attraction toward you from the moment you walked in. That attraction grew the more they saw you and learned about you.
In the beginning the physical part led it. They would see you in the gym at the early hours in the morning, adorned in your uniform camouflage pants and a perfectly fit green t-shirt. Or in that same outfit as you ran with Steve around the compound.
It was clear that the team was growing fonder of you by the day. 
Rhodey had begun speaking with you about your served time and his only to find other common interests with you along the way. Both Steve and Bucky found your loyalty and dedication inspiration and took to that. 
Tony had grown closer to you over a conversation about his company’s departure from weapons manufacturing. You’d simply found it admirable and later became interested in what he was currently doing.
Obviously, impressionable Peter Parker was taken with everything you did. He worked out with you, asked about your service, and took a genuine interest in what you do daily in and out of the Marines. 
But Wanda and Natasha.
The two women learned about you at a slower rate than the rest of the team. For a number of reasons.
Wanda didn’t want to learn about you. Having had been so physically attracted to you the second she saw you, she made it a point to avoid you. She loves Natasha and didn’t want her seeming crush on you to get in the way of that.
Natasha mainly wasn’t sure if she should trust you. You’d come off to her as too perfect.
Personally, you thought the women didn’t take a liking to you. Which kind of sucked. Not only had they seemed like great women based off what you saw from their interactions with the team, but they were incredibly beautiful.
You knew they were together but that didn’t stop you from doing your best to be friendly toward them: speaking in passing or starting conversation when together. In the end you assumed they just didn’t want anything to do with you.
That all changed in the span of two nights.
Both being particularly hard nights for you. Where your PTSD had become too much. 
The first night, due to nightmares, you found yourself awake in the common room with a glass of straight vodka. And Natasha had found you. The far off look in your eyes was one she was familiar with and the pure human side of her carried her to you.
She’d simply sat with you. Her surprise set in when she felt your head resting on her shoulder. A conversation had barely begun between you two, one simply about nature as you both looked out the window, and you’d fallen asleep.
The second night you spent in another country.
Both yourself and Natasha, as well as Wanda, were sent on a mission in Egypt. You all settled in, ate, and went over the mission before heading to bed. 
Wanda couldn’t bring herself to sleep though. Since you couldn’t bring yourself to sleep. 
Your thoughts were loud and she wasn’t trying to listen but she couldn’t ignore it. You’d sounded so scared and anxious. Both emotions she never would’ve associated with your strong and confident persona.
So there was no way she would leave you in that state by yourself. After knocking on your door, she’d offered to make you tea and the two of you sat together. When Wanda noticed that your thoughts hadn’t changed. She used your powers to calm your mind. 
As you fell asleep that night, head resting on her shoulder like you had Natasha the night before, you had no idea how hard your actions had made her fall for you.
People had always been scared of her powers and you just trusted her to use them to help you. Not a single hesitation in your eyes. 
What they didn’t know was how safe they’d made you feel in such a short time.
On your own, there was no way to get the nightmares to stop. You had always just distracted yourself when woken up by them. You’d read, watch nature, workout, and occasionally drink. But going back to sleep wasn’t a thing.
The fact that their presences were so comforting spoke to you.
It all came to a head the next day on the mission.
First having seen how good you looked in your desert camouflage uniform made their hearts flutter, something Natasha would only admit to Wanda. And then on the mission. 
Your group had been clearing the enemies base and were under heavy fire when you saw Wanda using her powers. It was clear the young woman was concentrated and so she hadn’t seen the people aiming their guns at her. 
Natasha had watched in slow motion as you ran to protect her girlfriend. Effectively taking a bullet for her as you ducked for cover and then throwing back a grenade they had thrown in the first place.
Shielding Wanda’s body from the blast sent you both crashing into the wall behind you. But you took the brunt force of it and had fallen unconscious.
Both women were beyond worried for you but had to focus on clearing the building. The second they did, they gave you their undivided attention. 
Working together, they got you back to the safe house and set out to clean your wounds. 
“Wan, remove her jacket and shirt I need to get a better look at the entry point.” Natasha instructed before going to grab a first aid kit.
It was a bit of a struggle to shred your unconscious body of your uniform but the second she did she froze.
Taking in the sight of your mostly bare torso. On both you sides sat tattoos. Tribal tattoos. Your sports bra covered the top of the tattoos that seem to start under your breasts, and stretch down below the hem of your pants.
“Staring isn’t po-” Natasha’s teasing falls short as she sees the cause of her girlfriend’s staring.
But she manages to pull herself together faster than the younger woman. Telling her to stare later because they have to help you.
After having successfully cleaned your wound, Natasha removed the bullet and thanked whatever higher power that no internal damage seemed to be done, and stitched you up.
The two showered and sat in the living room. It was clear they had a lot on their minds.
“I have feelings for her.” 
Natasha almost misses the whispered words from her girlfriend. Almost.
Sighing, she leans back into the couch.“ Me too.”
Wanda scoots closer and snuggles into Natasha’s side,“ so what do we do?”
“Tell her.” 
“Is that-”
“Tell me what?” Your groggy, slightly pained voice meets their ears and they look behind them to see you walking from your room, hand clutching your side.
You hadn’t put a shirt back on which served as a momentary distraction.
Smirking, you ease into the arm chair beside the couch,“ staring is rude.” You joke, effectively pulling them from their daze.
They see the question still in your eyes and look to each other. Should they tell you? How would you react?
“If you aren’t comfortable telling me it’s fine.” You assure, laying back with a a groan.
Wanda takes a deep breath and sits up,“ Y/n, Natasha and I know that this isn’t the most normal situation. And we know that things could always come up, especially with the chance of you being deployed-”
Natasha, seeing the confusion in your eyes, stops Wanda with a hand to her thigh,“ we have developed feelings for you.”
“We?” You’re quick to ask.
Both women couldn’t be saying they like you? Both? 
They nod.
You hum,“ what does that mean? How would it even-” you cut yourself off.
It’s silent as you all think. One solution seeming to circle all of your minds. It’s not unheard of, just unorthodox. 
“You become our partner.” Natasha finally speaks, looking at Wanda then you.
A hand raises to run through your disheveled hair,“ you mean, the three of us in a relationship.”
The smallest of smiles tugs at Wanda’s lips at the idea. Is it scary? Yes because nothing is written in stone and as she said anything could come up. But she’d still like to see where this goes.
You’re special and neither of them could deny that.
A number of thoughts run through the women’s minds when you stand and move to sit on the coffee table in front of them.
They watch cautiously as you hold your hands towards them and just as cautiously, they accept them. Instant warmth. Instant safety. All in a single touch.
“We all know this could end badly, correct?” You ask, knowing full well that it would most likely end badly for you before them.
Scooting to the edge of the couch, Wanda’s thumb strokes the back of your hand.“ We know.” She nods, confirming it with Natasha through a look.
“But we want to try.” Natasha adds, scooting closer as well.
A moment of nervous hesitation sets in. And shockingly to everyone, Wanda breaks it by moving forward to kiss you.
It’s simple, her lips pressing to yours as her free hand cups your cheek. But it’s still an incredible feeling. One you hadn’t felt in seemingly forever and one she finds similar to her first kiss with Natasha.
Said woman joking about missing all the fun and then kissing you as well. 
From there, the three of you spend an extended amount of time(after reporting back to the team) talking about what this relationship truly means. New fears linger, as to be expected, but it’s nothing compared to the anticipation and genuine trust you all have in this. 
* * * * * *
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