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#and if we want to voice against something we can have a proper conversations with clear reasoning  instead of spewing unnecessary hate
web-kindle · 11 months
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Frederick and Bright Eyes Original Storyline
I've seen so many interesting convos since I joined trying to explain this old storyline, and public threads of people asking and sharing what they have on it.
Since there’s new canonical storyline mentions from Erik of these characters now and more fandom interest about their old storyline...
Here's video, clips and captions regarding this story that have currently been shared by the fandom (until April 2023), organised. Let me know if anything is missing.
https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1uWSDmNL4bcMVX7bHvOQOIwWBn_ioqTgP
Note: Remember that this is mostly no longer considered canon. The characters are still relevant (although the 'Bright Eyes' listener character is now mentioned offscreen as Frederick's progeny), everything in other audios mentioned about them is relevant, and the official timeline (Oct 2020) basically has a summary that is just the first video (With one main creative difference, that being Quinn's characterisation). But the other story stuff here is no longer canon.
I just thought it would be fun to share.
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chalkscene · 6 months
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tears of themis ⇢ YOU DECIDE TO SLEEP ON THE COUCH AFTER AN ARGUMENT
ft. luke pearce, artem wing, marius von hagen & vyn richter
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you’re shifting restlessly on the couch when you catch your LUKE alarm keychain—handmade by luke himself—peeking from behind the armrest, “luke says he’s sorry.” you can’t help but smile at the sound of luke faking a small voice and whatever rage that filled you from your argument hours ago has now dissipated, endeared by the sweet gesture. “you’re gonna set off that alarm by accident,” you quip, the lightness in your tone encouraging luke to come into view. “you’re not mad anymore?” he asks, cautious yet hopeful. all his years of training and building a hard exterior to be a detective have nothing on you because in the warmth behind his hazel eyes that only you can bring out, you still find the boy you grew up with. the boy you’ve always loved. “i can’t stay mad at you,” you admit, on the brink of tears, “luke, i’m really sorry…” luke is quick to bring you in his arms, declining your apology because that’s what he does—he’ll blame everything before he’ll blame you. you’re unable to hold back a sob, prompting him to hold you tighter before he whispers in your ear, “let’s not do this again, okay?”
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ARTEM is going over a recent case when he realizes it’s almost midnight. he’s usually one to pull an all-nighter but gnawing at the back of his mind is the argument he had with you today—you two haven’t spoken to each other since. after having decided to put off his work until tomorrow, he walks out of his home office to join you in bed but he finds you in the living room instead, your pillows and blanket already set up on the sofa. he can tell you’re aware of his presence from the way you’re deliberately not looking in his direction. still, he attempts to catch your attention with a soft call of your name. when you don’t reply, he carefully crosses the distance between the two of you. “we can’t fix this if you won’t talk to me,” he pleads. artem’s convinced his words have fallen on deaf ears until you finally speak, “i just don’t want to say the wrong thing again.” artem understands, thinking back to what started as a simple disagreement escalating into something it shouldn’t have and before you could stop it, you were both raising your voices at each other, saying things you didn’t mean. “i’m sorry about everything i said,” your voice sounds weak as it quivers and artem immediately wraps you in his embrace. “me too,” he tells you, “we can talk tomorrow. just come to bed.” when you nod into his chest, he presses a reassuring kiss at top of your head as he promises, “we’re alright.”
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as MARIUS waits for you in bed, anxiety slowly eats away at him, the argument he had with you hours ago replaying in his mind. you should’ve walked in by now, he thinks, so he waits a few more minutes before getting on his feet and makes his way downstairs. he’s rehearsing his apology, muttering to himself to test the words on his tongue but it all flies out the window when he finds you asleep on the sofa. ridden with guilt, he decides to save his sorry’s for tomorrow when you’re both lucid for a proper conversation. marius is careful not to wake you up—gently slipping an arm beneath your head and looping the other under your knees to carry you to the bedroom. he’s tucking you in bed when you begin to stir awake. “sorry,” you hear him whisper, “didn’t mean to wake you up.” “what time is it?” you ask groggily, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. “it’s late. go back to sleep.” he places a tender kiss on your forehead to lull you to your slumber before he shifts you on your side, his chest against your back as he slides an arm across your torso. “sweet dreams,” he mutters and you feel his breath on the nape of your neck. “marius?” “hm?” “i’m sorry about earlier…” “that’s my line, miss,” he quips, albeit sincerely. he gives your body a gentle squeeze as he pulls you flush against him. “i’m sorry, too,” he replies, “i never want you to go to sleep upset.”
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you’re getting settled on the couch when you hear VYN clear his throat as he carefully places a fresh cup of tea on the table in front of you. “chamomile tea,” he states, “it will help you sleep better.” there’s the slightest caution in his voice but it’s enough to tell you what the tea is for—peace offering after your heated disagreement earlier. “thank you,” you mumble, gradually feeling the guilt bubbling in your chest, “you’re using reverse psychology on me, aren’t you?” there’s no bite in your tone but vyn’s eyes still widen at the accusation. “n-no,” he stutters and a giggle involuntarily escapes you, to vyn’s surprise. “i’m joking.” when you notice his body language go lax, you slowly reach for his hand. “and i’m sorry for the things i said to you,” you tell him, “i didn’t mean it.” “i know.” a soft smile curls on his lips as he interlocks your fingers together, “so am i.” you stay quiet for a moment, basking in his touch that you missed terribly before he speaks again. “if you still wish to be alone tonight, i don’t mind staying here.” you fight the urge to roll your eyes, aware of the fact that this is just him assessing your boundaries—vyn does mind and you know that—so you shoot him a dubious look instead to which he responds with a sheepish smile. “i suppose you’ve changed your mind?” you actually give him an eye roll this time. “you know you had me at chamomile.”
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grandlinedreams · 2 months
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would you ever consider doing AS!reader with azriel about them having their first child? just all the angst and fear of it and poor azriel worrying? luv luv luv your writing!
Hiya!! I actually had been playing around w the idea of it so I hope this is to your liking!!
|| [AS!reader masterlist]
|| warnings: pregnant!reader, Azriel being rightfully worried, brief description of childbirth
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You don't feel right.
Part of you wants to blame it on the fact that your mate hasn't been home the last couple of days. Away to perform his duties as Spymaster for Rhysand, you've felt Azriel's absence more intensely with the emptiness of the bed and nothing to soothe you but the answering tug on the bond.
But it isn't just him being away that has you unsettled ㅡ it's also the scent that's joined yours. Softer and sweeter, it's just an undertone ㅡ but it's enough to have you seeking out Madja for a proper answer, worried that you've caught some strange illness. But part of you knows the answer before she even confirms it ㅡ you're pregnant.
Part of you is over the moon, elated to be carrying your mate's child ㅡ but the fact that you still have to tell him tempers some of your excitement. Given that the two of you are recently mated, the conversation of children hadn't come up yet ㅡ and now it needs to.
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Azriel is tired.
You can tell from the set of his shoulders, the way his wings are held just enough to keep them from dragging on the floor ㅡ so when he quietly sinks onto the bed and pulls you to him, you let him.
Azriel splays you over him, arms wound around you as his face meets your neck, sighing as you drag your fingers through his hair. "You can go to sleep, you know."
His grip tightens on you. "Want to spend time with you," he mumbles, pressing further against your neck. "You smell good."
You hum as he inhales, letting your scent sweep over him ㅡ and when he stills, you know he's noticed the change to it. Your heart hammers, but you keep combing your fingers through his hair. "You'reㅡ"
"I am." You play with a dark curl. "Madja confirmed it. I know we hadn't talked about having kids, and I don't even know if you want themㅡ"
"I want them." Azriel's voice is quiet, lips brushing against your skin. "I want them with you, but..." His grip tightens again, unspoken worry igniting ㅡ for both you and the baby growing in your womb.
Because he's Illyrian, and you're not. And with the way Feyre had struggled with Nyx, if your baby has wings...
Your lips meet the top of his head, trying to soothe the fizz of worry that ignites on his side of the bond. "We'll figure it out," you say softly. "Just take it one day at a time, okay?"
Azriel exhales. "Okay."
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Azriel watches your body change. The scent that grows stronger as your stomach swells with the growth of the baby inside you. Paranoia has him adamant that he accompany you to every check in with Madja ㅡ even more so when you learn that the baby does indeed have wings.
Azriel had been protective before, but it's in overdrive now. If he can't physically be with you, one of his shadows is ㅡ curling against your stomach in a gentle caress before looping around your arm as a band of inky black.
He's gentle when he touches you, afraid that you'll break ㅡ and all you do is watch as he monitors the way the baby kicks against his hand.
"I hope our daughter knows how loved she already is," you murmur, and it takes Azriel a minute to register your words before he looks up at you.
"Daughter?" He echoes hoarsely. "We're having a girl?"
You nod. "I hope that's okay," you say, and then Azriel is moving up so that he can kiss you, the intensity of his mouth against yours and protective hand against your belly letting you know that it's more than okay.
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Your daughter is born early.
It makes him worry something is wrong ㅡ but she's a fighter, and Azriel thinks that his heart might truly shatter as he listens to the pained noises that you make in the throes of labor.
Sweat plasters your hair to your face, turns your skin blotchy with the effort of pushing the baby out ㅡ but you're still the most beautiful thing in the world to Azriel.
Even more so for the way your face lights up as the newborn is placed against your chest. Tiny but all together perfect even for arriving weeks before she should have, he watches as you kiss the head of fine, dark hair and stroke a finger against her cheek, evoking the barely there twitch of those little wings folded against her back.
It hits him all at once. Azriel is a father now. You're a mother. You have a child. Half you, half him ㅡ your daughter, who watches him with little eyes the color of yours as he murmurs softly, "Welcome to the world, little one. I'm your dad."
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m00nlight-ramblings · 4 months
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Before the Happiness
After developing feelings for Astarion, it becomes clear to you that this is uncharted territory...and not just for you.
Pairings: Astarion x female Tav
Warnings: smut, fluff, angst, dual pov. MINORS DNI, 18+
Word Count: 4.4k
Requested: yes
A/N: Graphic made by me, I do not give permission to share it without asking.
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The conversation and laughter around you had lulled to a dull roar as the night sky darkened. Sitting diagonal from Astarion at the campfire, you watched his lips move, almost in slow motion. You couldn’t focus on anything else – the rest of the party were conversing over bottles of wine that you all had found earlier in an abandoned village’s pub. Deciding to stay in the same campsite for two days as an extended rest, Karlach and Gale had the big idea of taking it easy and getting drunk – “to relax, and build morale!” Karlach had claimed.
Too bad you couldn’t take your eyes off of the fair-haired vampire across from you.
What started as an innocent crush – who could blame you, with Astarion being so cocky, and so charming, and so handsome? – quickly turned into something more. Now, you were unfortunately dealing with what you were sure was an unrequited love on one of Faerun’s biggest lady killers.
Figuratively, and literally.
“What say you, Tav?” Wyll asked, elbowing you gently. Snapping you back to reality, you immediately brought your goblet of wine up to your lips to buy yourself some time.
“Sorry, what?” You asked Wyll, keeping your gaze on your goblet. You felt a blush creeping to your lips…hopefully, no one had noticed your total focus on Astarion.
“Gale here was just saying that he could easily have taken on that hoard of goblins we came across this morning by himself!” Wyll chuckled, nodding towards Gale, “Him! Against 20 goblins himself! I say bullshit.”
“Now, now,” Gale interrupted, readying to defend himself, “I said if I had the proper time to prepare my spells correctly, I could easily fight against them-”
“Well, of course, if you had time to properly prepare for battle, you are more able to fight,” Shadowheart retorted, rolling her eyes, “But that’s not the point of battle.”
“Well…” You started as the party erupted into conversations about the designs of battle. As mini discussions started, you swept your eyes across the rest of the party, all who were animatedly debating whether they were for or against Gale’s point.
All, except for Astarion.
Once your eyes met his, you were locked on. He was absentmindedly swirling the wine in his goblet, his eyes unwavering against yours. Face completely unreadable, he caused heat to rise in you. You looked away quickly, only to check again to see if he was still looking at you.
He was.
You felt panic start in your fingertips as you gulped down the rest of your wine and immediately put your goblet down next to you. Standing, you wiped your hands on your pants.
“I’m going for a walk – I need some air.” You announced to no one (as they were still engulfed in their can-Gale-fight-20-goblins discussion). Without hesitation, you made your way to the creek a little bit beyond your campsite. Through the trees, the only noise was the fading of voices and the snapping of twigs beneath your camp boots. Finally reaching the creek, you were able to breathe out a sigh of relief, leaning against the nearest tree.
Your infatuation with Astarion was a point of panic for you – having never been in love (nor never had a partner before), you found yourself in undiscovered territory. You spent your whole life training as a fighter, not a girlfriend. So of course, the irony of it all would be that your first love would be a man who had so much experience, he would make the employees at Sharess’ Caress blush. He also happened to be a man that, though kind enough, wasn’t exactly a buddy. Astarion wouldn’t be the first person you’d reach out to in times of trouble at camp, no matter how much you wanted to. You and Astarion hadn’t had any talks where you were able to divulge your backstories – the only thing you knew about him was that he was a vampire, and his past with Cazador, really.
Oh, and that he was really, absurdly sexy.
You had only hoped that the others around you – especially Astarion – didn’t notice the extra time you spent staring at his face when you hoped no one was watching. Or the fact that your laugh was the loudest when he told funny stories around the campfire. Or that when travelling, you often found yourself walking near him.
“Are you alright?” A voice asked, forcing your eyes to pop open. You whipped around from the tree, finding Astarion step out from behind the forest. A friendly smile played on his lips, putting your thundering heart at ease slightly.
“Oh…yes, I’m fine. Thank you…I think I’ve had too much wine.” You said, quickly making up an excuse, “I guess my body has forgotten how to drink since we started this journey…since…we haven’t really had any wine…since…we started journeying.”
Smooth.
Astarion let out a chuckle, meeting you at the tree you were leaning against. “Ah yes, that makes…sense.” He paused the same way you had. You locked eyes and he broke out in a smile, and you realized he was teasing you. Your heart sped.
“You know what I mean…” You grumbled, kicking a rock in front of you and blushing.
“Yes, yes. I certainly do,” He paused for a moment, looking out at the creek. He didn’t speak, and you were suddenly aware of how loud the running of the water was. “I was worried about you when you ran off so suddenly. I was hoping you weren’t feeling ill.”
“Oh! Oh, no, I’m fine,” You felt flustered – Astarion? Worried about you? “Thank you, though…for checking on me.”
His eyes flickered down to your lips for a split second before returning to your eyes. For a moment, his eyes seemed to change…were they darker somehow? But he blinked, and they returned to his normal ruby red. He raised his eyebrows and he nodded, gracefully slipping his hands into his pants pockets. “You are welcome.”
“I’m feeling better, if you wanted to walk back to the campfire…with me?” You asked hesitantly. Gods, he was just a man! He wasn’t some sort of monstrous creature…so why did he make you so nervous?
Smiling, Astarion raised his arm as if to say, lead the way, “After you.”
You nodded and walked past him, ready to shake off your nerves. You committed to yourself to go back to the campfire and not look at Astarion once. You needed to be objective about your feelings towards him, no matter how strong they were. After all, you all had a mission to complete, and falling in love would simply get in the way. Leave your thoughts of Astarion when you were alone in your bed, drifting off to sleep – not when you were needed to be present.
Suddenly, Astarion gently grabbed your wrist. His fingers were ice cold as you expected, but it still sent a shiver down your spine. “I want to say something to you.” He started. You felt a lump in your throat, unable to speak. You simply nodded, your nerves making you unable to look at him.
“I have noticed that you and I haven’t been able to…get to know each other as much as the others,” His voice, barely above a whisper, was confident and sultry. “I would like that to change. I do enjoy your company very much. And after all, who knows how long we will be spending with each other until we can reclaim our minds from these wretched tadpoles, no?”
You swallowed and nodded, turning to look at him. His eyes glittered, mischievously. His signatured smirk was on his face as he slowly let go of your wrist. Somehow, his icy fingers left your skin burning.
“I would like that,” You eventually say, over the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears, “I also enjoy your…” Gulp. “Company.”
“Wonderful,” Astarion said. “Well, now that that’s settled, let’s get back to camp, shall we?” And even though he originally had you lead the way, he started off to camp first, leaving you a few steps behind.
Not that you minded…you obviously had to use this time to collect your thoughts.
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Astarion wasn’t quite sure what had come over him at the party’s get-together the previous evening, but once he had seen you (very obviously) fixating on him from across the fire, something in him snapped.
Sure, he had noticed you immediately when he had joined the party – your kind eyes, and beautiful hair. Not to mention your lyrical laugh, and curvy body…the same one where, the mere thought of could keep him up all night…
It was safe to say he had developed strong feelings for you, so Astarion decided to do what he did best – keep a safe distance, and play it cool. There was no way romance and love and feelings would be a good idea in any sense.
Especially when he knew that your feelings were probably just lust.
Love was something so far from Astarion’s lexicon, he couldn’t even remember the last time he felt it. No one could ever love him – not after everything he had done, or even because of who he was. Worthless, disgusting, abysmal…there weren’t enough words to describe Astarion’s shortcomings.
Astarion was very aware of what many others thought of him – his only redeeming quality to the world was his looks, so the idea that people only wanted to fuck and leave was not a new concept. Though he couldn’t necessarily get himself into that particular situation all that much while under Cazador (though he somehow was able to sneak away for an hour or two while completing a mission), he saw how people looked at him on this journey.
It would’ve been flattering to him if he didn’t hate himself so much.
So the idea that your feelings – which were always written all over your face – could be any more than a fantasy of bedding him, was preposterous. Up until now, Astarion would be able to push that aside for a night or two in order to satiate his (and your) need to get off, but something inside him told him that his feelings would get in the way. His fantasies about you weren’t just sexual…sometimes, his mind wandered to holding you in his arms, or simply eating a meal with you by the campfire.
Or even worse…a future with you. One that didn’t include tadpoles and battles, but of sleeping in a fluffy bed with you on a Sunday morning; of going to the town market together to complete your errands, and of owning a cat with you.
Which, truth be told, scared him more than anything.
So when he found himself following you to the creek after you had left the campfire that evening without even thinking about it, he knew he was in trouble. Gone was any sense in his brain; instead, he knew his heart was taking over, and for whatever reason, he decided to go along with it. Maybe it was because his feelings were too strong, or that he couldn’t help himself, but he knew he needed to finally be around you more.
Even if that meant you wanted nothing more than a dirty fuck.
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A few days after the night at the campfire (and - surprise, surprise - another night of drinking the following evening), you found yourself once again headed towards Baldur's Gate, party and belongings in tow. Since then, you and Astarion had fallen into your familiar rhythm of what seemed like standoffishness, but now with more smiles and pleasantries peppered in. Which, was more than okay with you, since the very idea of Astarion becoming close seemed to scare you.
However, your heart couldn't help but flutter when the surprisingly flirty remark Astarion made was thrown your way. So much so that you didn't mind the curious glances from Lae'zel, or Gale.
"C'mon, you have to tell us!" Karlach pleaded while on the road, her voice a hoarse whisper as to not draw attention, "What is going on between you and Astarion?! Don't think I didn't notice, soldier...him running after you the other night? And now he's flirting with you...complimenting you?! The others may not be noticing all that much, but I certainly am!"
You laughed nervously and swatted your hand in the air as if to say, it's nothing! "Oh, you know Astarion. He flirts with everyone!"
"Yeah, but this is the first time he's flirting with you," Karlach retorted. "Which, took long enough since Gods, you're hot! But, don't think I haven't noticed the change in attitude between you two."
A blush crept to your face as you felt yourself unable to look away from the back of Astarion's head, who was walking a few paces ahead of you, discussing something with Halsin very intently. Your mind wandered to other things as your eyes scanned his body...his back, his behind...how both of them would look naked.
"Alright, I'm leaving you to whatever weird fantasy is currently going on in that brain of yours, okay?" Karlach finally said, pulling you out of your daydream. She playfully shoved your shoulder and walked faster, stepping in line with Shadowheart at the front of the pack. As she passed, Astarion slowly turned his head to look at you, Halsin still blabbering away in his ear. Your heart leapt to your throat as you locked eyes with him.
He had definitely heard.
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The night had fallen silently, the only noise in camp being crickets chirping away. The oil lamp in your tent flickered as you pulled the blanket on your bed closer to your body. The book you were reading was propped up in your lap, and you reveled in the peace of the evening - retiring to your tent early, you heard exactly when everyone else had gone to sleep. Sure, you probably should have been sleeping already since Wyll insisted on an early morning start, but you wanted to enjoy your book for just a few more moments.
Suddenly, a rustling came from the front of your tent, the sound of someone announcing themselves.
"It's me," Astarion's voice called, "Are you decent?"
"Um-" You threw the book closed and swept the blanket off of you in a panic, though there was literally nothing to panic about. Rising from the bed quickly, you started to pace your tent, "Yes. Come in."
The flap to your tent was quickly undid and thrust open. Astarion strode in and redid the flap with ease. He looked down, and once he realized you had enchanted your tent with a wooden floor, slipped off his camp shoes. When he looked back up at you, he smiled.
"Good evening, darling."
"Good evening." You said, holding your hands behind your back. You plastered a smile on your face, trying to suppress the urge to smooth your hair. A moment of silence passed by before you snapped into action, "Would you like to sit?" You asked, motioning to your bed.
"Ah, yes. Thank you." Astarion said awkwardly, moving towards the bed. He sat at the far corner, causing you to sit at the opposite side.
How funny...with how badly you wanted to jump his bones, you'd think you wouldn't be on basically the other side of the world.
"Well, darling, I just came here tonight to...see how you were doing?" Astarion started, looking at you. You couldn't help but smile as he leaned back on the footpost of your bed.
"How I'm doing?" You clarified.
He nodded, "Yes, as friends do. That's what we're working towards," He paused, his eyes flickering down your body. Then, his eyes did the thing - darkened slightly, causing an indescribable look to cross his face.
Suddenly, you recognized that it wasn't an indescribable look.
It was lust.
"Friends, correct? That's what we're looking for." He finally finished, meeting your eyes again. This time, his eyes stayed dark, running his tongue quickly over his lips to moisten them.
You heart began to thud and you shifted in your nightclothes, arousal springing in your belly. Just Astarion's look alone and you were suddenly putty in his hands.
"Y-yes. Friends...that's what we are." You quietly confirmed. Feeling bold - you couldn't believe that Astarion was feeling lustful towards you! Could it be a mistake? - you scooted a bit closer and leaned in slightly, "Unless you had...other plans."
Astarion smirked and cocked and eyebrow, mirroring your body language by scooting closer. "Darling...are you coming on to me?" His voice was low, floating to your ears. You began to feel warm, a bit of sweat pooling on your brow. "If so...well, that changes everything."
"Does it now?" You murmured, staring at his lips. Your boldness surprised you - you were surprised that the first time you took a chance with Astarion was working in your favor.
Not that you were complaining.
As your heart started to beat faster, Astarion slid closer to you, closing the gap between your bodies. His hand slowly snaked up your side, his pointer finger lightly tracing your thigh. He moved in, his lips mere inches from yours.
"Say the word", He said, his voice ringing in your ears, "And tonight, I'm yours. But I will not continue unless you say it."
Your belly pooled with heat, and you couldn't contain yourself, no matter how nervous you were, "Then be mine tonight."
At once Astarion was on top of you, his lips pressed against yours. Spreading his legs so that yours were in between his, he pressed himself down on your body, his erection already prominent. You moaned into the kiss, causing him to deepen it.
"Astarion," You breathed as he pulled away slightly, starting to push your sleep shirt up from the bottom. He smiled as he quickly looked into your eyes, finally finding your lips with his again.
"If this is what friendship means for us, then I cannot wait to get closer." He spoke teasingly, his words sloppy, encased in your lips. You giggled through the kiss and suddenly gasped as you felt his cold hands on your sides, under your shirt.
You heart raced as your hands found their way to Astarion's shirt, pulling it above his head. You ran your fingers down his chest, taking in the sight before you. He paused, obviously loving the attention. A smirk played on his lips as he pushed your shirt above your head, eyes widening as your bare chest was finally on display.
"Gods, you're gorgeous." He purred, maintaining eye contact as he slowly lowered his head to latch his lips on to one of your erect nipples. You immediately moaned as his tongue swirled around your breast, leaving evidence of saliva around your nipple.
"Fuck, Astarion." You grumbled, your back arching into his mouth. He smiled but continued with his mouth, his hands finding their way to your soft pants. Without ties or buttons, Astarion was able to easily push them down, and you helped by kicking them off of your ankles.
"Darling, I can't wait to take you all in," He said, his mouth rising to yours again. One of his hands found its way to your neck, holding on to the side, while resting on his elbow. His other hand met your clit, immediately rubbing circles, "You're already so wet." He chuckled.
"You feel so good," You retorted as an explanation. Your thoughts were swimming overwhelmingly - you couldn't believe you were finally in bed with Astarion. You had fantasized about this moment basically since you had met him, and being here felt better than you could have ever imagined.
Say the word, and tonight, I'm yours. His words rang in your brain, causing your face to flush even more.
Tonight.
Tonight.
But what about after tonight?
You hadn't much experience with lovers, aside from the few and far between "relationships" as a teen, so you didn't know what was supposed to happen after this night. Were you supposed to go back to normal...as friends?
Suddenly, a pang of panic spread through you - the idea of going back to normal, as just friends, was painful to you. Here you were, with Astarion finally as a lover, someone you've come to care for deeply.
How deep it was going to hurt if you couldn't continue on with him. How deep it would hurt if you gave yourself to him like that, only to have him take you and discard you.
You snapped back to reality, realizing that many moments of silence from you had gone by. You hadn't even felt anything Astarion was doing, and he noticed, quizzically looking at you while continuing to work on your clit. You felt anxiety rise to the surface violently, and you suddenly sat up in the bed.
"Wait, wait, wait, wait, stop. Stop!" You said, immediately criss-crossing your legs. Astarion, shocked, sat back on his knees, his glistening chest heaving.
"I'm sorry! Did I do something wrong?" His lips were full and swollen, his eyes wide. You recognized the look of fear on his face, causing your heart to drop.
"I can't do this," You spoke frantically, sighing heavily. "I'm sorry I just...can't."
"Oh...kay," Astarion spoke slowly, seemingly afraid to startle you, "What's wrong?"
Your thoughts were still jumbled, the anxiety still at the surface, "I just...I just can't have you dismiss me after tonight!" Your voice was shrill, you knew it, but you couldn't stop.
Confused, Astarion slid closer. He was quiet for a moment, handing over your blanket. You took it, covering yourself, silently thanking him for the gesture.
"'Dismiss' you?" He asked, tilting his head to the side, "What do you mean, 'dismiss' you?"
"You know..." You said, almost panting from the panic, "Dismiss me! Like your...your other lovers!" You waved your hand in the air to accentuate the point, "Here I am, with true, deep feelings of love for you, and all I am to you will be another notch in your bedpost!" You sighed, finally catching your breath, "And I know I said yes to this, but truth be told I am not...experienced...with someone who is as experienced as you, and I know I said yes because I couldn't help myself due to my feelings for you. But I cannot go back to just friends after this, to party members after this. Like nothing had happened. I cannot be discarded..." Finally deciding to look at him, you felt tears spring to your eyes, "I think that will break my heart."
"Darling," Astarion whispered, taking your hand in his. "What makes you think I planned to discard you after this?"
"Isn't that what you want?" You asked, allowing the small tears to fall freely, "To just...fuck?"
"Gods, no!" Astarion cried, moving closer and smiling, "That's what I thought you wanted!"
"What?!" You asked, matching his smile, "What do you mean?"
"I thought you only wanted to bed me," He said, squeezing your hand, "That's why I came here tonight - because I thought it was what you wanted. My whole life, for as long as I can remember, my body has been used for others. I've never had someone bed me and want to stay...You know my history with Cazador...you know what I've been subjected to. I've never had anyone...care...for me before," He looked down, his voice softening, "...are you saying that you care for me?"
You nodded slowly. Bravely, you reached your hand to touch his cheek, causing him to look up to you again, "I care for you...deeply. I've fantasized about this moment since I've met you but..." You tried to find the proper words, "I'm not quite sure I'm ready for it. I have little experience and, I know that sounds young, but-"
"My darling, I would never ever push you to do something you don't want," Astarion interrupted, shaking his head, "If anyone knows about being forced to do things you don't want, it's me. Truth be told...it's quite a relief to hear you say that...I'm not...quite sure my body is ready to be touched in that way...right now," He smiled sadly, "Not by someone I care for deeply. Not in a relationship I want to grow more then just...sleeping with one another. I find that it is hard to think of myself sexually due to...my past. And I'd rather move past that before I..." His words trailed off, as if he didn't want to continue.
"Astarion," You whispered. "I won't hurt you like that. Just like you didn't want to hurt me."
He smiled finally, taking your hand closer to his mouth. Gently, he kissed your knuckles, a smile playing on his lips, "The last thing I will ever do is hurt you."
"So..." You gently nudged, "You're saying that you care deeply for me as well?"
Astarion looked at you seriously, continuing to hold your hand. He nodded, "I do. I'm terrified, but I do. I don't know what this is, and I don't know what it will become, but I've come to realize that whatever it is...I want to do it with you," He chuckled to himself, "A terrifying thought, my heart in your hands."
"And mine in yours." You spoke. Your heart was thundering with an overflow of joy - after all this time, this new revelation felt like a sunrise after a dark and stormy night. After a moment of silence, you tucked a piece of hair behind his ear, "Tonight, I think we just lay together. We don't need anything else. But I would like to spend time with you."
Astarion's eyes glittered as he nodded again, noticing your sleep clothes on the ground and picking them up. As he slipped his shirt back on, he laid beside you in bed, hesitantly putting his arms around you.
"I've never just...lay with someone before."
"There's a first for everything." You said mildly, turning to him in his arms. He smiled, gently kissing your forehead.
"I'm scared." He offered. You nodded, knowingly.
"I know. So am I."
"But before the happiness, there is always fear." He said. He looked at you, sincerity and kindness in his eyes. Gently, you met his lips with yours, trying to muster as much courage and support as you could through a kiss. When you pulled back, you smiled at him.
"And there will be a lot of happiness."
-----
What did you all think? I'm so sorry for the long break! I'm back! As always, reblogs, likes, and comments mean the WORLD for writers and are much appreciated!
My inbox is OPEN for requests!
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soulofapatrick · 5 months
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Falling Into You - Stiles Stilinski x Female Reader 
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Summary: you and stiles finally give into your unknown crush on each other
Words: 2.6K
Warning: Heated makeout session; if you squint there's dry humping
Y/N’s POV
Living with Stiles has been far from boring. Ever since my dad was killed and my younger brother - Isaac - went to live with Derek, Sheriff Noah Stilinski graciously opened his home to me. That meant living with Stiles too, and let me tell you, it has been anything but dull. Stiles has this knack for turning even the most mundane day into a storytelling session filled with the antics he and Scott get up to. 
I’ve grown to love it here. The Stilinski house is like a second home, and the sheriff is like a second dad to me. He’s been incredibly supportive, especially during the tough times. And then there’s Stiles. He’s… well, he’s Stiles. Quirky, witty and always wearing that mischievous grin. 
Lately, though, something’s shifted. I’ve caught myself stealing glances at Stiles when he’s not looking. His passion for solving mysteries, his loyalty to his friends—there’s something undeniably endearing about him. Maybe it’s the way he cares for everyone around him, or the way he throws himself into every insane situation without hesitation. But it's more than that. There's a warmth in his laughter, a genuineness in his concern, that makes my heart flutter a bit faster. And as much as I try to ignore it, I can't deny that a crush has been slowly blossoming. 
Living under the same roof, it’s hard to keep these feelings under wraps. I find myself wanting to spend more time around him, hoping for moments where it’s just the two of us, away from the chaotic everyday that is Beacon Hills. Yet, I’m also terrified. What if he doesn’t feel the same way? What if it ruins our friendship or makes things awkward while living with him? 
Stiles is currently sat cross legged on my bed, looking so engrossed in whatever supernatural mystery he's delving into. His dedication is admirable, even if it means sacrificing proper posture for the sake of research. I can't help but steal glances at him every now and then, admiring the furrow in his brow as he concentrates. 
I wish I could tell him how I feel. But the fear of ruining what we currently have, the fear of changing the dynamic between us, it’s suffocating. So instead, I go back to focusing on my assignment, the words blurring on the page as my thought drift back to him. 
The room is quiet except for the clicking of keys and the occasional muttered comment from Stiles. As I sit at my desk, trying to concentrate on the assignment in front of me, my mind wandering again—this time an entirely different scenario and it’s one that feels both exhilarating and terrifying. 
I can’t help but imagine what it would be like to set aside the fear and uncertainty, to sit next to Stiles and lean in, closing the distance between us. What would it be like to press my lips against Stiles’? Would they be as soft as they look, as warm as his laugh? My heart races at the mere thought, a flurry of emotions dancing within me. 
I picture the moment vividly: closing the space between us, feeling the warmth of his breath mingling with mine, and the anticipation before our lips meet. I imagine his hands, tentative yet steady, finding their place on my skin, maybe on the curve of my cheek or the small of my back. How would it feel to have his touch ignite a thousand sparks, to feel the electricity between us? 
There’s a mix of longing and hesitation, the desire to experience that connection, yet the fear of disrupting the comfortable equilibrium we've found in our friendship. But in my mind's eye, it's a beautiful chaos—a leap into the unknown, a chance to explore something deeper, something that might exist beyond our late-night conversations and shared moments.
Before I can continue imagining me and Stiles the said boy breaks my thoughts, “Hey Y/N! Come here,” He speaks, excitement in his voice but his eyes never once leaving the screen. 
I force myself out of the reverie, blinking away the vivid daydreams as Stiles called out to me. His excitement is palpable, contagious even, and I push aside the rush of emotions to focus on the present. 
I rise from my chair, feeling a strange mix of anticipation and nervousness as I make my way to where Stiles is seated. He’s still hunched over the laptop, his attention entirely captured by the screen. With a careful step, I settle on the bed behind him, leaning over him enough to rest my chin on his shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of what’s got him so intrigued. 
His warmth seeps through the fabric of his shirt, radiating against my chest, a sensation I try desperately to ignore. The scent that envelopes me—a blend of old books, faint traces of motor oil and a lingering hint of coffee—should be distracting, but it’s oddly comforting. It’s quintessentially Stiles, a unique combination that feels inexplicably familiar and reassuring. 
I glance at the screen, feigning interest in whatever supernatural phenomenon has grabbed his attention. But truthfully, my focus wavers between trying to understand what he’s showing me and the proximity between us. His presence feels magnetic, drawing me in, yet I fight the urge to let my thoughts drift into forbidden territory. 
“Look at this,” He exclaims, pointing to a section on the screen. His enthusiasm is infectious, and for a moment, I forget the inner turmoil, getting lost in his excitement. 
Stiles is engrossed in explaining something on the screen, his energy palpable. I try my best to keep up, nodding along as he talks, but the proximity between us amplifies every emotion within me. 
Suddenly, he turns his head, excitement lighting up his russet eyes as he tries to make a point. His words trail off mid-sentence, and in that suspended moment, our faces are unexpected close. I feel his breath, warm against my skin, a sensation that sends a shiver down my spine. 
As if in slow motion, I notice every tiny detail—the freckles scattered across his pale skin, the way his eyes dart down to my lips for the briefest moment before meeting my gaze again. My breath catches in my throat, and I’m sure he can heart the erratic beat of my heart. There's a shift in the air, an unspoken tension that crackles between us. His cheeks flush with colour, a shade of red that matches the intensity of my own emotions. I can't tear my gaze away from him, from the way his eyes flicker between mine and the way his lips part, as if searching for words that elude him. 
For a moment, time seems suspended, our silent exchange speaking volumes. I feel a surge of courage and vulnerability intertwine within me, a silent plea for something more, a leap into the unknown. 
But just as quickly as the moment arrives, it slips away. Stiles blinks, breaking the trance, and clears his throat, shifting slightly away. "Um, sorry, got carried away there," he stammers, his voice a tad higher than usual.
The air feels charged with an awkward tension, heavy with the weight of unspoken words. I try to ease the discomfort by standing up, intending to head back to my desk and salvage what’s left of our usual camaraderie. But before I can even take a step, Stiles’ hand shoots out, wrapped around my wrist in a swift motion that catches me off guard. 
Caught off guard by the sudden proximity, I stumble and practically find myself in Stiles's lap. His warmth envelopes me, and for a moment, our heartbeats synchronise in a chaotic rhythm that seems to echo the unspoken emotions between us. 
Stiles’ eyes lock onto mine, a mixture of anticipation and vulnerability swirling within their depths. His tongue darts out to wet his pretty pink lips, a nervous gesture that betrays the intensity of the moment. Before I can fully comprehend what’s happening, his hand finds the back of my neck, drawing me closer. 
In that heartbeat before our lips meet, the world around us seems to still. His touch sends a surge of electricity through me, igniting a fire that I didn’t know was simmering within. And then, finally, our lips touch in a kiss that feels both anticipated and inevitable. 
As our embrace intensifies, the laptop becomes a mere afterthought, pushed aside to make way for the burgeoning heat between us. Stiles's movements are deliberate, his hands finding my hips with a confident touch, guiding me to straddle his lap as our bodies mold together. 
The kiss deepens, the connection between us sparking a newfound intensity. Stiles’ hands, warm against my skin, slip under the fabric of my teeshirt, sending shivers cascading down my spine. His touch is electric, fingers tracing patterns along my hips, a gentle yet possessive hold that ignites a fire within me. I tangle my fingers in his messy hair, feeling the soft strands between my fingertips as I tilt his head back slightly, deepening the kiss. There’s a dominance in his action, a confidence that surprises me but also excites me in ways I hadn’t anticipated. 
His lips move with purpose, fervent and seeking, a silent demand for more as our breaths mingle in the shared space between us. Each movement, each touch, feels like an unspoken confession of desires long kept hidden. 
My heart races as I lean into him, relishing the sensation of his lips against mine, the way his body responds to my touch. And as I lose myself in the passion of the moment, it becomes clear that Stiles, despite his usual playful demeanour, possesses a commanding presence that takes my breath away. 
As the intensity of the moment heightens, Stiles’ touch remains both from and reassuring, his hands guiding me with a tenderness that contrasts his newfound dominance. With a gentle yet firm pressure, his long, nimble fingers press against my back, coaxing me to lower myself onto him. There’s an undeniable pull in his touch, drawing me closer until I’m lying atop him, our chests pressing together in a shared rhythm. Our breaths mingle in the small space between y=us, the heat of the moment making the air around us feel charged. 
His chest rises and falls with each breath, syncing with mine, creating an unspoken harmony. The sensation of our bodies pressed together sends jolt through me, an electric current that ignites every nerve ending. 
As I rest against him, feeling the steady thud of his heartbeat against mine, a rush of emotions floods over me—desire mingled with a newfound intimacy, vulnerability meshed with a sense of comfort in this uncharted territory. 
Stiles's gaze holds a mixture of passion and tenderness, a silent understanding passing between us in the shared silence. His fingers trace gentle patterns along my back, a gesture that speaks volumes, conveying a reassurance amidst the fervour of the moment. His lips part as if to speak but instead, in a very Stiles fashion, a torrent of words spill out in a hurried stream. 
“I-I've wanted to do this for so long, and I'm sorry, I should've asked, I mean, I wanted to ask, but then this moment happened, and I just... I didn't want to ruin it, but I should’ve—" He babbles, the words tumbling out faster than I can comprehend. His apology mixes with an admission that he’s wanted this as much as I have, and amidst his rambling, I can’t help but laugh softly, finding the sudden flood of words endearing. 
Before his apologies and explanations can continue, I decide to silence him the best way I know how. With a gentle yet decisive motion, I cup his face in both hands, capturing his lips in a kiss that speaks volumes, stealing away his words and replacing them with the silent language of our shared desires. 
The kiss is deliberate interruption, a way to convey everything I’ve been feeling in a single moment. It’s a tender yet firm assertion, an assurance that words are unnecessary amidst the eloquence of our connection. 
As our lips meet, I feel a shift in the air, the nervous energy dissipating into something more serene. Stiles’ initial surprise melts into a reciprocated warmth, and soon, the kiss becomes a dance of shared affection and unspoken apologies. In that suspended moment, the kiss becomes a story of its own—a narrative of unspoken emotions conveyed through the gentle meeting of our lips. Stiles's initial surprise gives way to a newfound ease, his lips molding against mine with a familiarity that feels surprisingly natural yet exhilaratingly new.
His touch, tender yet assured, ignites a cascade of sensations. His hands explore, tracing the contours of my back, sending tingles racing along my skin. There’s a delicate balance in his touch, a mix of reverence and longing that speaks volumes about the dept of his emotions. 
As our kiss deepens, I’m enveloped in a whirlwind of emotions. Stiles’ lips against mine feel like a discovery—a blend of softness and fervour, an unspoken language that surpasses any verbal communication. Each movement of our lips is a revelation, a testament to the unspoken connection between us. His closeness has a gravitational pull, drawing me in and enveloping me in a sense of security and desire. In this moment, I feel cherished, desired, and seen in a way that goes beyond mere words. 
The intensity of our kiss, a universe of emotions contained within, is abruptly interrupted by the jarring ring of Stiles’ phone. Startled, we break apart, a shared groan escaping both of us as the moment fractures, replacing by the intrusion of reality. Stiles fumbles for his phone, his expression a mix of frustration and resignation. With a sigh, he answers and puts it on speaker, revealing Scott’s urgent voice on the other end, asking if Stiles had found any leads. 
As Stiles responds to Scott’s inquiries, I take the opportunity to sit back up, adjusting my position so that I’m straddling his waist. The shift seems to catch Stiles of guard, his breath hitching slightly, and I can feel the bulge pressing against my ass. I watch as Stiles bites his lip, a subtle attempt to suppress any involuntary sounds, his focus divided between the phone call and me, shifting on his lap. His eyes meet mine for a fleeting moment, and I can see a hint of frustration at the interruption, mixed with a smouldering intensity that sends a thrill through me. 
Leaning closer, I offer an apologetic smile, silently acknowledging the disruption but unable to resist teasing him but grinding my hips against his, pretending to get more comfortable on his lap. I notice the way his breath catches again and his hands dart for my hips unsure if they want to stop my hips or help me roll them against that growing bulge. 
“Sh-shit,” A moan escapes him and Scott falls silent as Stiles’ cheeks bloom a pretty shade of red, “Fuck, I gotta go, talk later.” And with that Stiles is hanging up, practically throwing his phone on the floor and in one quick moment has us flipped over so I’m laying underneath him. 
“Hi.” I breathe quietly, an ache between my legs. 
“Don’t you ‘hi’ me you little tease.” He grumbles, leaning on his elbows either side of my head. 
“What you gonna do about it?” I challenge, loving the gleam in his eyes. 
Stiles chuckles softly, his eyes dancing with mischief as he leans closer, his breath brushing against my lips. 
"Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea what you've started."
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Teen Wolf Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 21st Dec 2023
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the-modern-typewriter · 9 months
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Can you write something about the protagonist being adopted by a family of heroes, but they just want to live a normal life, but the villain finds them? Please and thank you!
"So, you're the super new addition to the family."
Given everything that their new family had told them, the protagonist had been expecting it. Unfortunately, that didn't make it any less horrifying to hear the villain's voice behind them in the empty classroom.
The protagonist's shoulders tensed.
Someone would probably come running if they screamed for help. But what were most people going to do against the villain except die? Besides, the protagonist...
They turned, stomach twisting into a thorny knot, still clutching a paintbrush in hand. "I'm not going to fight you."
The villain raised their eyebrows at that, seeming amused. "Oh?"
The protagonist swallowed. "So if that's why you're here, piss off. With all due respect."
"Piss off with all due respect?"
"I have an art project to finish. It's 20% of my final grade."
The protagonist half expected them to saunter close, fearless and menacing, but the villain stayed where they were - leaned against the closed door in a long black coat and gloves. Everything about them was dark. A shadow come to life. Their smoky gaze roamed the painting over the protagonist's shoulder.
The protagonist was halfway through painting a seascape. Calm. Nice. Possibly twee, they knew that. The sort of thing that felt like it couldn't feasibly be in the same room as a supervillain like them.
"Yeah," the villain said. "If your teacher has beige walls and a puritan sense of right and wrong, they'll love it."
The protagonist's jaw clenched, but they didn't say anything.
The villain's attention fixed on them again, considering. "How is hero life?"
"I'm not a hero."
"No, you're a cataclysm waiting to happen. But I was being polite."
The protagonist flinched.
"That's why they took you in, right?" the villain asked, head tilting. "So they can keep an eye on you? Manage your powers?"
"They're helping me."
"Uhuh." The villain's eyes gleamed. "Do you think they love you? Like a proper little family?"
"I'm not joining you either," the protagonist said, after a winded beat. "So, again, with all due respect-"
"Piss off?"
"Please."
The villain smiled. "I'm not here to fight you. Or recruit you."
"Then why are you here?" The protagonist's voice quivered.
The villain shrugged, too light and careless for it to be true. "Curiosity. They said you wanted a normal life."
The protagonist could only imagine how that conversation had come up and gone down. They managed a small nod.
"You're not normal," the villain said.
The protagonist flinched again, despite themselves.
"Power like yours, destructive power, it wants to be used," the villain said. "Starts eating away at you if you don't channel it. Makes you ill."
The protagonist met the villain's eyes. Because, yeah, they'd noticed that.
"For what it's worth," the villain grimaced, like the very acknowledgement was disgusting. "I do think they're trying their best with you. I think they have good intentions. They always do. And better them, I suppose, then you being with someone who doesn't have any powers if things..." The villain twirled their fingers, and a smoky little mushroom cloud popped up from the tips.
"Yeah," the protagonist said, a little hoarse. That had been exactly their thinking.
"But it won't be enough. Their best won't be enough to contain you."
"We don't know that."
"I know that."
"This doesn't sound like curiosity."
The villain laughed, though it wasn't an entirely joyful sound. They straightened up off the door, finally taking that step closer.
"Curiosity in the sense that I'd like to meet the apocalypse. It's a one time experience. I'd kill you myself, but...you know. No guarantee that all that power inside you won't just go boom when you die. Better to adopt death incarnate, in this instance. Keep you safe. Love you enough that you don't want to end everything prematurely."
The protagonist felt bile, hot and acrid, rising in their throat.
"Piss off," they whispered. It definitely sounded more like please.
"You need to use your powers," the villain said, all laughter gone. "In small chunks. Micro doses. Otherwise you're going to be dead or blow us all up by the time you're thirty, and I would rather avoid that for as long as possible."
The villain reached into their pocket, pulling out an envelope. "A list," they continued. "Of the help you should be asking them for. They won't listen if it comes from me. But love isn't going to be enough, if you're serious about this."
The protagonist's brow furrowed. They hesitated; their family had told them not to take anything the villain offered. They took the envelope.
It struck them, after all, that the villain knew what it was to be a little bit monstrous. The villain hadn't chosen normalcy. But they knew, better than anyone else, didn't they?
The tension left the protagonist's shoulders. They sagged.
"Enjoy your normal life," the villain said, softly. "I hope you get it. And I hope, I truly hope, the rest of us will yet be lucky enough to survive you."
They bought the protagonist's art piece at the end of year presentation. The protagonist didn't know what to do with that information.
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saetoshi · 1 year
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corazón de melón.
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tldr; the one time you have a proper conversation with itoshi sae ends up unleashing a series of events you never imagined could’ve happened.
wc. 10.2k
¿?: roommates to lovers, college!au, idiots in love, this is pure domesticity tbh, fluff, lowk word vomit, ooc-ish sae (he’s a silly lil guy sometimes this is the hill i’ll die on), slow burn ig ??, swearing, someone’s mean to you (not sae), not proofread (no surprise)
a/n: i have so many emotions in my heart for sae, SOMEONE SEDATE ME PLEASE FREE ME FROM HIM I CANT LIVE NORMALLY ANYMORE, turned rue into a sae liker for this so real of me, @rintosei, enjoy ur meal my children this is probably the longest thing i’ll write in a hot minute
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when others think of itoshi sae, many words come to mind: genius, talented, jerk, asshole, rude, mean, scary, lashes, pretty—the list goes on. 
you have no particular thoughts about sae. all he is to you is your roommate. you’d like to have an opinion of him, but that seems impossible with the way you can count the number of times you’ve spoken to him with one hand.
though, if you had to be honest, the only common thread in the few interactions you’ve had is that he very clearly does not care for your company—or anyone’s company, for that matter. 
not that you blame him. if you had to deal with having to go to practice after a day of classes, you wouldn’t want to interact with anyone else, either. (you’d also not have the energy to do anything.)
it’s why you’re used to hearing him get back to the apartment while you’re eating dinner; why you started leaving some leftovers for him to eat whenever he wants to.
it’s also why you’re surprised when he comes back from practice earlier than usual. you jump when you hear the front door open, placing your hand over your heart.
your turn to the door, eyes widening slightly when you see sae walk in. you don’t greet him—you never do—you don’t think he’d appreciate it. (he never greets you either, so you assumed it was fine.)
so, you turn your attention back to the tv, reaching out to grab the broom. you quickly start sweeping, humming a tune while the noise of whatever drama is playing in the background fills the apartment. 
you barely register that sae’s door doesn’t open, but the thought quickly leaves your mind when something dramatic happens to one of the leads. 
you take a step back, an unceremonious yelp leaving your lips when your back bumps into something. a second passes by before you slowly tilt your head back.  
your eyes are met with a pair of teal ones. a sheepish smile tugs at your lips, “hi?” 
he raises a brow, “what are you doing?”
“cleaning.” you move the broom from side to side in hopes to draw his attention to it. (he barely glances at it before his eyes snap back to yours.)
you take a step forward, moving to face him. he just stares at you. an awkward silence settles between the two of you.
“you’re back early.” you hope he didn’t hear your voice crack.
he blinks, clearly uninterested. “practice ended early.” 
you hum, nervously bouncing on the balls of your feet. you huff, tapping your fingers against the broom. “i see.”
it’s clear both of you feel uncomfortable. still, neither of you makes a move to leave. you’re more surprised sae’s still standing in front of you. (sae’s mildly intrigued you’re attempting to talk to him.)
you open your mouth to speak, but promptly shut it close. you repeat the action two more times before sae interrupts you, “what?”
your eyes drift away from his. you gnaw on your bottom lip. “it’s nothing.”
he glares at you. “just spit it out.”
your eyes widen, snapping back to look at him as you dismissively wave your hand. “it’s really nothing, you can just leave!”
“you clearly have something you want to say to me,” he deadpans, “so i suggest you get it over with so we can put an end to this lukewarm conversation.”
you take a deep breath, wiping one hand against your shirt, gently swaying the broom with the other. “i was just wondering, y’know since you’re back early–”
“hurry up.”
“do you wanna eat together?” you look at the ground, feet shuffling uncomfortably. the silence feels unbearable. 
“that’s it?” the confusion in his voice confuses you. you lift your eyes to stare at him, confusion etched in your face.
your head tilts to the side in confusion, “what do you mean ‘that’s it’?” 
“you wanna eat with me?” he points at himself. his brows knit when you nod. sae owlishly blinks, 
“okay.”
his eyes widen in confusion when he sees an elated smile bloom on your lips. 
“i won’t start cooking yet, since i at least have to finish sweeping,” you hum, “but if you’re hungry you could get started on something and i’ll join you when i’m done.”
“i can’t cook.” sae awkwardly coughs. he shoves his hands into his pockets, looking away from you, a soft flush spreading through his cheeks.
“oh,” you blink, smiling at him. “that’s fine! i can cook something while you clean instead.”
the blush on his cheeks deepens as his brows furrow.  “i don’t know how to clean.”
your smile tightens, eyes squinting as you inch closer to him.
there’s a beat of silence. “what can you do then?”
“play football.” you wait a few seconds for him to say something else. 
“that’s it?”
“yeah.” he says it as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. (as if it was the only thing that mattered.)
you rub your forehead, a dry laugh escaping your lips. 
if you were to tell others of this discovery you’re sure they wouldn’t believe you. you’re not even sure you believe him, yourself.
at least you didn’t, until he took the broom from your grasp. you have to bite back your laughter when he can’t even hold it properly. you wonder how he’d manage to survive alone.
itoshi sae is basically useless outside of football, you conclude. (and you’re not sure if this is the opinion you want to have about your roommate.)
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it’s been a week since you learned about sae’s lack of ability to do seemingly anything other than kick a ball around.
it’s also been a week since he started coming back from practice earlier. you have mixed feelings about it. on one hand, you find it strangely comforting knowing you’re not alone in the apartment. on the other, sae just stares at you while you clean.
you’re sick of feeling his eyes follow you around. it feels like a predator watching its prey. having his eyes trail you makes you feel judged, and you’ve had enough.
so, you tighten your grip around the mop in your hands, turning around to look at sae. you take a deep breath, “why are you staring at me?”
he blinks, propping an arm on a couch cushion and leaning his head into his palm. “i’m trying to learn.”
confusion paints itself all over your face, “learn what?” 
“learn to clean.” you hate when he says things like they’re the most obvious thing ever. it makes you feel as if he expects you to know what goes on in his head.
“by staring at me?” you raise a brow. 
he simply shrugs, “i’m a visual learner.”
you don’t know if you believe him. 
so, you place one of your hands on your hips, tilting the mop back and forth with the other one. “in that case, you should try cleaning today.”
his eyes widen, mouth curling into a fine line. “i don’t think i’m ready for that.”
you take a step closer to him, holding the mop out to him. “well, i think that after a week of watching me you should start practicing what you’ve learned.”
“don’t ever think again.” he frowns.
“oh, please,” you roll your eyes, “don’t tell me the itoshi sae is afraid of a little mopping.”
that makes him get up. you bite back the satisfied smile threatening to creep up your face when he snatches the mop from your hands.
“i’m just supposed to move this side to side, right?” he stiffly holds the mop, looking at you with a raised brow.
“‘m not gonna help you out,” you make your way to the couch, mimicking his earlier position. “if you’ve been learning from staring at me for a week then you should know what to do.”
“i know what to do.” he rolls his eyes, “i just don’t know how to do it.”
“figure it out, then.” you lean forward against the palm of your hand, trying to hide your smile behind your fingers.
he glares at you and scoffs, redirecting his attention to the object in his hands. you fail to stifle your laughter when he moves the mop in a sweeping motion.
“don’t laugh!” his grip tightens around the mop, heat rushing to his ears. 
you bite your tongue, the ghost of a smile still lingering on your lips, “i’m not.”
he tsks, slightly pouting. he walks towards you, dragging the mop behind him. you look up at him, you eyes flutter closed when he flicks your forehead. 
“teach me.” your eyes snap open, flickering to meet his. a confused noise leaves your lips as your brows furrow. 
“teach you what?” your eyes flutter when he flicks your forehead again.
sae’s eye twitches in annoyance, “are you stupid or something?”
you glare at him, “not everyone thinks the same things you do!”
he clicks his tongue, rolling his eyes. he points at the mop and then at himself. “teach me to clean.”
“i thought you said you were a visual learner.” you deadpan. 
“consider this your punishment for laughing at me.” he huffs, a condescending smile blooming on his lips when he sees your pained expression.
his face leans closer to yours, “i look forward to learning from you, teach.”
you dumbly stare at him as he places the mop in your hands. he flashes you a shit-eating grin before retreating to his room. you blink twice before coming to your senses, punching the couch cushions in anger. 
you wish you hadn’t found out itoshi sae was a little shit. you much preferred when you only thought of him as your useless roommate. 
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itoshi sae is the most infuriating student you’ve ever met. 
you thought someone described as a genius would be a much better student than he actually is. he doesn’t pay attention to anything you say at all. you wonder if his teachers just let him pass the class because they don’t want him around anymore. 
you have a newfound respect for his actual teachers. you don’t know how they manage to stand him for a whole semester when you don’t think you can even last two weeks. (it’s still longer than you expected.)
“sae,” you loudly sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose, “you’re doing it wrong. again.” 
his grip around the broom tightens, his knuckles turning white, “i’m doing what you told me to do!”
“you’re not!” you groan, running a hand down your face, “gosh, how do you manage to do everything i tell you the wrong way?”
“what, so i’m the problem?” his eyes narrow, he takes a step closer to you, “have you ever thought that maybe you’re a bad teacher?”
an angry gasp leaves your lips, “excuse me?!”
“you heard me.” he grits his teeth, “you’re clearly the most lukewarm teacher ever. how do you expect me to learn when you don’t care about teaching me properly?”
“have you ever considered that maybe i don’t want to teach you because you forced me to?” you rub your temples in a poor attempt to prevent the coming headache.
he scoffs, brows knitting in annoyance, “you could at least put more effort into making sure i’m learning.”
“you think i’m not?” you point him square in the chest, glaring at him. “i’m doing my best here, okay? it’s not my fault you’re a shit student.”
“you–”
“you listen while your teacher is speaking.” you seethe, grabbing a fistful of his shirt, “i’m trying to do the best i can. i’m not qualified to teach you anything, especially not with how you don’t even pay attention to what i say!”
he frowns, “well, i–”
you shake him as hard as you can, angry tears pooling in your eyes, “you’re the most ungrateful, useless piece of fucking shit i’ve ever met in my life!”
sae grabs your wrists, letting the broom fall with a clang to the floor. he stares at you with wide eyes. you blink, heat creeping up your face in embarrassment.
there’s a beat of silence. sae’s eyes scan your face. “you good?” 
he lets out a soft sigh of relief when you nod. “are you going to punch me if i let go?”
he relaxes a little when you shake your head. he looks at you as he slowly lets go of your hands. you stare at him, wide eyed as he gently walks you over to the couch and sits you down.
sae plops down on the other end of the couch, glancing at you. he opens his mouth to speak, but promptly closes it. you stop yourself from laughing at his awkwardness. (it reminds you of how you must’ve acted when you talked to him a couple of weeks ago.)
you twist the hem of your shirt in your hands, looking away from sae, gnawing on your bottom lip. “’m sorry about that.”
“don’t apologize.” he coughs awkwardly, crossing his arms, “i probably stressed you out too much.”
“yeah, but, still,” you turn to face him, “i shouldn’t have said something so rude.”
“it’s fine. i really did deserve that, after all.” an amused laugh escapes his lips, “i’ve never heard you so mad before, though.”
you tilt your head to the side, “what do you mean?” 
“i mean,” a hint of amused smile tugs at the corners of his lips, “you tend to get really loud when you complain about your classes. i can hear you all the way to my room.”
your face heats up in embarrassment. you slump against the couch, hiding your face behind your hands. “sorry.”
“stop apologizing,” you slightly relax when you hear a sliver of empathy in his voice. “it’s better to let your emotions out instead of holding them in.��
you lower your hands from your face, staring at him. “do you do that?”
“it depends,” he hums, “feelings are lukewarm most of the time, so when i get angry or whatever i’ll let it out so i can get it over with.”
you narrow your eyes at him, scanning his face. “how does that even work?”
he shrugs nonchalantly, “if i get mad at someone i’ll say it to their face while i’m still mad so i can stop being angry.”
you mull over his words, “so instead of having pent up feelings and reaching your limit, you just act on your emotions as soon as possible so you go back to feeling nothing?”
“pretty much.”
a small hum leaves your lips. silence settles between the two of you before a loud growl echoes through the apartment. laughter bubbles in your chest, spilling out of your mouth when sae’s face flushes.
“shut up!” he hides behind his hands, “i haven’t eaten all day!”
you stand up, walking over and extending a hand out to sae, “wanna help out with dinner?”
he lowers his hands from his face, glancing between your eyes and your hand. he blinks, “i can’t cook.”
“i know,” a smile blooms on your lips, “you can consider it your first lesson.”
sae’s eyes light up, the corners of his lips tilting up ever so slightly. “you’re still gonna teach me?”
“i can’t let you stay useless forever.” you stick your tongue out at him, smiling when he grabs your hand.
a huff of laughter escapes his lips when you fail to tug him up. you flip him off before leaving him behind on the couch. a smile lingers on his face when he follows you to the kitchen. 
he’s not a good assistant. (and he’s an even worse cook). in fact, if you’d known that letting him into the kitchen would’ve resulted in having to evacuate the building due to the fire alarm, you wouldn’t have asked for his help at all.
however, you do appreciate that he invited you out for dinner later as an apology for stressing you out. 
(it makes you think he’s more considerate than he pretends to be.)
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you’ve lost track of the times you’ve had to apologize to your neighbors over sae activating the fire alarm. 
it’s embarrassing enough that seemingly everyone in the complex goes to your college, but sae seems to make it worse by glaring at anyone who so much as looks in your direction with a judgemental stare.
“i can’t keep going on like this,” you cover your face with your hands. you shrink into yourself when you feel multiple eyes staring at the back of your head.
“stop overreacting.” sae clicks his tongue. still, he discreetly grabs the hem of your shirt and gently pulls you closer to his side. 
you lower your hands from your face, frowning at him as tears of shame pool in your eyes. “everyone’s judging us!”
“just ignore them.” he awkwardly pats your head, “they’ll forget about it soon enough.”
“sae, this happens almost every week!” you cry, gnawing your lower lip, “some guy yelled at me last time because we interrupted his studying! do you have any idea how long i had to apologize for?”
his jaw clenches as anger flashes through his face for a split second before his uninterested expression returns. “what’d he look like?”
“i don’t know,” you blink, “he was tall. he also had brown-ish hair, i think?”
he shoves his hands in his pockets, tilting his head in the direction of the building, “do you know his apartment number?” 
“no,” you sigh. “why?”
the corners of his lips quirk up into a mischievous smile. “i was thinking of baking him some apology cookies.”
you cover your mouth in a feeble attempt to stifle your laughter. (if everyone was staring at you in judgment for triggering the fire alarm, now they’re judging you for laughing in this situation.)
sae tugs you into the building when you’re all cleared to enter, glaring at a few neighbors who shoot dirty looks at both of you.
you smack his arm, “stop doing that, you’re embarrassing us!”
he scoffs, flipping off anyone who’s still staring, “does it look like i care? they’re all too scared to say anything to my face, anyway.”
“yeah, but they always say shit to me when you’re gone,” you click your tongue, frowning. sae drags you up the stairs to your apartment.
both of you stand in front of your door when sae puts his hands on your shoulders, staring at you in the eyes. his eyes are a pretty shade of teal, you note.
“if anyone gives you shit when you’re alone, just remember what they look like, ‘kay?” he flicks your forehead, a malicious gleam in his eyes, “i’ll make sure to personally apologize for the trouble.”
a smile blooms on your lips, “you’re so mean.”
“shut up,” he rolls his eyes, pinching your cheek, “as your roommate, i’m the only one allowed to give you a hard time.”
“whatever you say, freak,” you rub your cheek, smile widening, swatting his hand away when he reaches out to pinch your other cheek. 
sae bites back a smile as he nods his head toward the door. “did you bring your key?”
you reach into your pockets, feeling around for the key. your head tilts down, eyes widening in panic when you don’t find anything. 
an embarrassed chuckle slips past your lips when you lift your head back up to look at sae. he pinches the bridge of his nose.
“gosh, you’re so useless.” 
you kick his shin, sticking your tongue out at him, “you don’t get to say that to me.”
he sticks his tongue out at you in return, crossing his arms. “whatever. just go and ask the landlord for a key.”
“me?” you raise your brows at him, haughtily tilting your head to the side, “you’re the reason we had to evacuate the building in the first place! i think it’s only fair that you get the key.”
sae opens his mouth to tell you off, but seemingly decides to sigh loudly in annoyed defeat instead, “fine.”
you smile triumphantly, turning to face him, your eyes closing as your chest puffs out in pride. sae rests his index finger on your forehead. your eyes flutter open in confusion at the contact, smile dropping into a curious pout. 
“tell me if anyone bothers you while i’m gone.” he flicks your forehead one last time before turning around and walking away. a content smile blooms on your lips as you stare at his back, sliding down to sit next to the door.
you don’t tell him the tall guy from last time dropped by to yell at you again. sae didn’t even have to ask to tell something was wrong with the way your smile seemed dimmer when you told him you’d take over making lunch.
he doesn’t tell you he’s going to give that asshole the ‘apology’ cookies he’d mentioned before. (and he definitely doesn’t mention that he got his apartment number from the landlord when he got the key to your apartment.) but you had an inkling of what he was going to do when you saw him take out some bowls and a whisk from the cabinets. (you didn’t stop him.)
you bake him some actual ‘thank you’ cookies and place them by his door before heading to your room for the night. the next morning you find a post-it with an ‘anytime’ messily scribbled on it and a ‘thanks for the cookies :)’ on the other side.
you smile fondly at the teal-colored square. you think it resembles the color of his eyes. (it makes you feel warm and fuzzy.)
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sae’s gotten slightly better at cooking. he’s able to make at least one meal without triggering the fire alarms.
you feel proud. you suppose that’s what teachers feel when their most lazy, unmotivated student finally manages to put effort into something. 
it makes you feel proud enough that you take a detour to the convenience store on your way home. a fond smile lights up your face when you walk out of the store, plastic bag in hand with a chocolate bar and a pack of star stickers.
there’s a skip to your step as you head home, swinging the bag back and forth. 
you’ve barely even opened the door to your apartment when it swings open. your eyes widen in surprise when they meet sae’s. 
his eyes narrow, “what took you so long?”
a slightly burnt scent wafts the apartment. your nose scrunches, “is something burning?”
“answer my question first,” he points the spatula in his hand at you. 
“i got you a reward,” you smile, lifting the bag in your hands. 
his eyes light up, “what’d you get me?”
you quickly hide the bag behind your back when he reaches out for it. “answer my question first.”
a small smile tugs at his lips. he rolls his eyes, “nothing is burning. i turned off the stove before opening the door just to be sure.”
you reach out to pat his head, a teasing smile on your lips, “good job, sae!”
he scoffs, a soft blush dusts his ears. “you make it sound like you’re praising a dog.”
you huff, “stop complaining when you’re getting praised.”
“whatever.” sae pouts, brows knitting, “when are you giving me my gift?”
“so impatient ,” you tsk, shaking your head, “let me in first, i don’t wanna stand in the hallway any longer.”
he grabs your arm and pulls you close to him, kicking the door closed. you bump into his chest, eyes widening as heat rushes to your ears.
the first thing that pops into your mind is that he smells nice. there’s a hint of a burnt scent that clings to him, but he still smells nice. (you note that he feels warm too. it makes you feel warm.)
you feel a slight pressure against your brows. it makes you blink as you slowly snap out of your stupor. 
“you good?” your eyes meet sae’s worried ones. he leans in closer to you, scanning your face. you awkwardly nod. 
his brows furrow. “are you sure? you zoned out for a bit. are your classes stressing you out too much?”
you shake your head, slightly leaning away from him. your lips press into a fine line. sae’s eyes narrow as he scans your face. he steps back, his hands resting on your shoulders. the spatula lightly digs into your skin.
“is it that guy again?” he tightens his grip, making you wince when the spatula presses harder against your skin, “is he still bothering you?”
“i think you scared him away,” you quickly swat his arms away. “i’m fine, though.”
“are you sure?” he sighs when you nod, “why’d you zone out then?”
“i got distracted,” you gnaw on your bottom lip. 
his expression morphs to confusion, “with what?”
your eyes widen slightly. you don’t want to tell him he’s the reason you zoned out. so, you settle for the only thing that comes to mind, “the smell of something burning. are you sure you turned off the stove?”
“yes.” he groans in annoyance. there’s a small pause. sae turns around, tugging you into the kitchen with him. 
“look!” he points at the stove, “it’s off. stop making me second-guess myself.”
an amused smile blooms on your face, “i can’t believe you had to come check if you actually turned it off.”
“i can’t believe you actually haven’t given me my gift yet,” he scoffs, pouting. 
you laugh, reaching out to flick his forehead. “patience is a virtue, sae. it’d do you well to have it.”
“whatever.” he tries to grab the bag from your hands. “just give it to me already.”
you smile, pulling out the chocolate bar from the bag. laughter bubbles in your chest when you see his stunned expression.
“chocolate?” he glares at the bar in your hand, “do you know how unhealthy that is for me?”
“if you don’t want it i’ll just keep it, then.” you nonchalantly shrug.
he snatches it out of your grasp. “i never said i didn’t want it.”
his eyes twinkle when he unwraps it. he glances up at you, “do you want a bite?”
“just a small one,” you reach out to grab the bar. 
sae moves the chocolate out of your reach, “open your mouth.”
you blink, tilting your head in confusion. he sighs, “i’ll feed it to you. i need to make sure you don’t bite off half of the bar.”
“do you trust me so little?” you scoff, crossing your arms. still, you open your mouth, heat rushing to your ears when sae tells you to take a bite. 
“is it good?” he stares at you, taking a bite of the chocolate when you nod. 
you both swallow at the same time, a smile lighting up your face. “i think you deserve another reward for sharing.”
his brows raise in intrigue, “another? gosh, you’re really spoiling me today, aren’t you?”
you take the pack of stickers out of the back, waving it in front of him. he gives you an unamused look. 
“i bought these for whenever you do something nice,” you place a sticker on his cheek.
“that’s stupid,” he frowns. 
“shut up, you look cute.” you pinch his other cheek.
he clicks his tongue, “whatever. now get out of my kitchen i need to continue making dinner.”
laughter spills out of your mouth when he pushes you into the living room. “do you want me to help?”
“no.” he huffs, “i can do it myself. now go relax or something, i’ll come get you when dinner’s ready.”
“are you sure you’ll be fine on your own?” you snicker, “i’d hate to have to evacuate the building.”
he lightly smacks your shoulder, “i can cook by myself!”
“sae–”
“just let me cook something for you this once,” he mutters. 
a soft, defeated sigh leaves your lips, “okay.”
“i’ll let you cook alone,” you smile, “just this once, though. i can’t leave you unsupervised for too long.”
he hums, patting your head before heading back to the kitchen. a small smile lingers on your lips as you make your way to the couch, turning on the tv.
it doesn’t take long for sae to walk over, two plates in his hands, and a self-satisfied smile on his lips.
you’d be lying if you said the meal was good. it was slightly charred, and a little too salty. you’re sure you would’ve managed to turn it into something decent if he’d let you help. 
still, as bad as the food was, you can’t help but eat it with a smile on your face, a warm, fuzzy feeling tugging at your heart. 
sae groans in annoyance when you place another sticker on his forehead. (your heart leaps when you notice the soft flush to his cheeks.)
he lets you help him wash the dishes, complaining when you flick soapy water in his direction. laughter fills the apartment when he flicks water back at you. time seemingly slowing down to let you savor the moment just a little longer before you head back to your room.
you drift off to sleep with a smile on your face. your heart drums against your chest when you recall the smile on sae’s face. 
(you wish he’d smile at you more often.)
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you’ve discovered sae is much better at cleaning than he is at cooking. you’ve also discovered that he’s more thoughtful than he lets on. 
he tends to clean the apartment while you’re in class. he claims it’s because he absolutely must practice cleaning in order to get better. (you don’t believe him.) he swears he ensures the apartment’s clean by the time you get home because he can’t stand your nagging. (you still don’t believe him.)
it’s why you’ve had to go out and buy more stickers to reward him with. it’s also why you’re a little surprised to see him still mopping the apartment when you get back.
you take your shoes off, quickly putting on your slippers. “you’re still cleaning?”
“i’m almost done,” he hums, “practice ended a little later today.”
you make your way to the couch, careful not to slip on the floor, “why? is there a match soon?”
“there’s one tomorrow,” he turns to look at you, frowning when he sees you pull out a pack of stickers with a teasing smile on your face. (he still makes his way over to you when you tell him to come closer despite knowing your intention.) he watches you place the sticker on his shirt, a concentrated look in your eyes.
he sticks his tongue out at you when you look up at him with a satisfied grin. sae rests his hand on top of your head. “wanna come watch?”
you tilt your head to the side, “i’m not a big football fan.”
he playfully shakes your head, brows knitting, “have you ever even been to a football match?”
“no,” you pry his hand off your head, “but i don’t really see the point of going when i know i’ll get bored.”
he rolls his eyes, “you won’t.”
“how do you know?” you lean closer to him, raising a brow, a playful grin on your lips.
he leans closer to you, nose playfully scrunching, “because i’m going to be playing.”
your face scrunches up in mock disgust, “you’re making me not want to go even more.”
he teasingly clutches his heart in faux pain, a smile on his lips as he tries to hold back his laughter, “you’re so mean. you’re hurting me right now.”
“are you trying to make me feel bad?” you bite back a smile, fondly rolling your eyes. “because it’s totally working.”
“your sarcasm wounds me,” he frowns, shaking his head. “i can’t believe my roommate won’t support me at my match.”
you punch his arm, “keep this up and you won’t be eating any dinner.”
“fuck,” a hearty laugh escapes his lips, “when’d you get so mean?”
“i learned from the best,” you stick your tongue out at him. a soft laugh leaves your lips when sae scoffs, looking away. 
“are you really not going to go see the match?” he turns to you, pouting. you hate when he uses that little pout to guilt you. (you hate that you fall for it even more.)
you sigh, slumping against the couch, “i’ll think about it.”
“just give me an actual answer, damn.” he taps your forehead, “are you going, yes or no?”
a teasing smile creeps up your lips, “maybe.”
you laugh when he calls out your name in annoyance. he groans, glaring at you, “i hate you.”
“no you don’t,” you smile at him, “if you did you wouldn’t have asked me to go see you play tomorrow.”
his face flushes in embarrassment. “you’re not even going anyway!”
you rest your head on your hand, “i am, though.”
he stares at you, unimpressed. there’s a beat of silence before he huffs, the corners of his lips quirking up, “i really can’t stand you sometimes.”
“it’s not my fault you’re fun to tease!” you laugh. he flips you off before turning around to continue mopping. you sigh, stretching your arms up. a couple of seconds go by before you get up to make your way to the kitchen.
“where are you going?” 
“the kitchen,” you hum, turning around to look at sae. your ears burn when your eyes meet his. you wish you knew what goes on in his head when he stares at you so intensely. you wish you knew if he even knows he’s staring at you so intently. a small, awkward cough leaves your lips, “i wanted to get started on dinner.”
“you’re not even going to wait for me?” you fiddle with the hem of your shirt at his teasing tone. 
sometimes you wonder if he knows how domestic your dynamic has become. if he’s aware that people have started associating him with you, and vice versa. if he’s aware of the effect his words have on you. (you really wish you could take a peek inside his mind.)
“you’d just get in my way,” you tsk, “besides i wanna finish quickly, my head hurts a little.”
he quickly walks over to you, dragging the mop behind him, “have you taken any medicine?”
“i’m fine,” you wave off the hand he placed on your forehead, “it’s probably because i’m hungry.”
“are you sure?” your heart pounds against your chest at his concern. 
you give him a reassuring smile, “i’m sure. if it still hurts before i go to bed i’ll take some medicine.”
“fine.” he huffs, lips pursing, “but if you still feel bad tomorrow, promise you’ll let me know.”
you feel your heart squeeze. you gnaw on your bottom lip, twisting the hem of your shirt with your hands. 
“i promise.” your voice is barely above a whisper, it’s just loud enough for him to hear.
he smiles, patting your head, “don’t push yourself too hard, ok?”
sae turns around. you stare at his back, his name tumbling out of your lips before you can stop yourself. he turns around with a curious hum.
you feel like your heart rests on your throat. he patiently waits for you to continue. heat rushes to your ears and you wipe your hands against your shirt. “i also promise i’ll go see your match.”
the smile that lights up his face makes you wish it was tomorrow already. you want to go. (because you like seeing him smile.) you want to go see his match. (because it’ll make him happy.)
you want to see him do his favorite thing in the world. you want to share that happiness with him, despite not caring much for the sport. (because you think it’ll make him happy to see you there, even if he doesn’t say it. you want to be the reason he feels genuine happiness.)
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you’re not there.
it’s the first thing sae notices when he looks at the stands. it’s what he keeps noticing whenever he turns to look at the stands throughout the match. when they reach halftime and you’re still not there, so he texts you. the second half starts and you’re still not there. 
the game ends and you never showed up. his brows knit when he checks his phone only to find out you never even read his messages. concern carves itself into him. 
he makes his way back to the apartment as quickly as he can, secretly hoping that nothing bad happened to you.
his heart beats faster, anxiety seeping into him when he opens the door and he doesn’t see your figure on the couch. 
sae hastily kicks his shoes off, dropping his duffel bag somewhere on the floor. he lets out a deep breath when he stands in front of your door, quickly knocking.
a couple of seconds go by before he knocks again, frowning when there’s no reply. he quietly opens the door, mentally apologizing. his eyes quickly scan the room for you. there’s a lump in his throat when he sees something stir under your bed sheets. 
he quietly walks over to your bed, slowly lowering your comforter. his chest tightens, brows knitting with worry when he sees your face twisted in pain, a slight sheen of sweat on your forehead. he grabs a tissue from your nightstand, gingerly wiping the sweat away. 
he sharply inhales when you stir under his touch. sae stares at you as you slowly open your eyes. his eyes fill with concern when he notices how heavy, and unfocused yours look.
he presses the back of his hand against your forehead, brows furrowing even more, “gosh, you’re burning up.”
“sae?” he can barely hear your voice. “why’re you here?” 
he clicks his tongue, wiping more sweat off your forehead.
“what about the match?” you blearily look at him, voice laced with soft concern. you try to keep your eyes open when he heads out, grogginess catching up to you when he returns with a bowl in his hands, a hand towel over his shoulder. 
he dampens the towel, wringing out the excess onto the bowl. sae gently presses it against your forehead, “have you had a fever all day long?”
“did i miss it?” his heart aches at how choked up your voice sounds. 
“i thought i told you to tell me if you weren’t feeling alright, dumbass,” he nags, carefully lifting your head up to prop another pillow under it. 
“‘m sorry.” your eyes fill with tears, a pout tugging at your lips. he gently adjusts the towel against your skin. 
“don’t apologize,” he softly tsks, “worry about getting better, not about missing the game, idiot.”
he panics when a tear rolls down your cheek, hastily brushing it away. his heart squeezes in pain when more tears freely roll down your cheeks. 
“i didn’t,” you sniffle, “didn’t wanna miss the game.”
he shushes you, grabbing another tissue to wipe your tears away. “it’s fine.”
“‘s not,” your breath quickens, brows knitting in sadness, “i promised.”
he firmly calls out your name, “it’s not your fault.”
“i promised,” you hiccup. sae frowns, reaching out to remove the towel from your forehead, pouting when he notices you’re still burning up. he quickly dampens it again before resting it against your skin once more.
“i’ll go get you some medicine,” he whispers, turning around to exit your room.
sae stops in his tracks when he feels something weakly tug at his fingers. he turns to look at you, sucking in a shaky breath when he sees you holding on to him.
“don’t leave.” you weakly try to pull him closer. 
there’s a slight flicker of hope in him that tells him you’re aware of what you’re doing despite your raging fever. but he quickly extinguishes it by reminding himself that you probably think you’re dreaming. (because there’s no way you’d tell him to stay with you otherwise, he’s sure of it.)
“i have to get you some medicine,” he mutters. still, he makes no attempt to free his hand from yours.
“stay.” he wants to. he wants to stay with you more than anything. but he needs to get you something to relieve your fever.
he sits on your bed, readjusting your grip on his hand, “i need to go get your medicine.” 
he gingerly readjusts the towel on your forehead, slightly smiling at you. his heart pangs with worry when he notices how clammy your hands are. 
sae’s eyes widen when you lift yourself up, wrapping your arms around his neck. the towel on your forehead drops into his lap. he feels you rest your head on his shoulders, frowning at the heat emanating from you. (still, he wraps his arms around you so you don’t fall.)
his worried eyes meet your hazy ones when you slowly lift your head to look at him, a sleepy smile on your lips. 
“so stubborn,” your hands cup his cheeks. 
sae freezes when he feels your lips press against his. his heart beats faster, blush spreading through his face like wildfire. 
a sharp inhale leaves his lips when he feels your hands drop from his cheeks, your body tilting back. he cups the back of your head before it hits the pillow.
his eyes scan your face. he lowers his head when he feels your feeble grip on his jacket. his eyes flicker to yours when you weakly tug him closer in an attempt to press his lips against yours again. 
he slowly lifts your head up, a soft huff of laughter slipping past his lips when a glimmer of anticipation flashes through your eyes. he presses his lips against yours in a short peck, a startled noise leaving his mouth when you pull him back in. 
his face heats up more and more every time you chase after his lips when he pulls away for air. he pants when you pull away, trying to catch your breath. he rests his forehead against yours, his breath fanning against your lips. 
you softly call out his name. butterflies erupt in his stomach. he really hopes you know you’re not dreaming. 
his arm tightens against you, the hand resting on the back of your head gently tilting it to the side. he doesn’t think twice before pressing his lips against yours again, a content sigh escaping him when you melt under his touch. 
he presses his lips against yours over and over again, gently lowering you back onto the bed. your kisses feel like they’re the very air he breathes. like he’ll suffocate if he’s apart from you for more than a second.
sae kisses you silly until he feels your grip against his jacket soften. he pulls away, panting, face ablaze, eyes looking at your sleeping face with a softness that is so unlike him.
he carefully removes your hands from him, lifting your comforter to tuck you into bed. a smile lingers on his lips as he places the towel on your forehead again. 
he quietly makes his way out of your room, pressing the pads of his fingers against his lips. his heart feels like it wants to jump out of his chest. a deep sigh leaves his lips. he makes his way to the front door, quickly putting on his shoes to go buy your medicine.
sae really hopes you get better soon. (he wants to kiss you again, and he wants to be sure you’ll remember it properly.)
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if you thought sae was a bad student, he’s an even worse patient. he is the most uncooperative sick person you’ve ever met in your life. 
you suppose it’s only fair to put up with him since he took care of you while you were sick. (even if it makes you want to knock him unconscious.)
still, it never fails to make your blood boil when you find him wobbling around the living room with a broom in his hands.
“would it kill you to stay in bed?” you stomp over to him, prying the broom off his hands before propping it against the wall.
he blearily looks at you, pouting. he sniffles, “yes.”
you frown, grabbing his hand and dragging him to his room. he glares at you when you force him to lay down on his bed. 
“stay here while i get your medicine,” you point at him, glaring back. “or i’ll suffocate you with a pillow until you fall asleep.”
“you can’t be rude to me while i’m sick!” he angrily crosses his arms, scoffing.
it’s still surprising that he’s still in bed when you get back. it’s even more surprising that he’s staring at the door, his face lighting up when you enter. 
his nose scrunches up in disgust when he sees the cough syrup in your hands. he burrows himself in his comforter, turning his head away from you. 
“sae.” you gently call out, sitting next to him. a small smile blooms on your lips when he slowly turns to look at you. “you know you have to take your medicine to get better, right?”
“if i take my medicine,” he sneezes, “will you give me a reward?”
“yeah, sure, i’ll give you a sticker.” you absentmindedly hum, uncapping the syrup. 
“no,” he shakes his head,  “i want another reward.” 
your brows raise in confusion, your turn your attention to him. “what kind of reward?”
he smiles, lifting a hand to tap his lips and then tapping yours. your face heats up, jaw dropping. you gently swat his hand away, pouting. “you shouldn’t tease like that.”
“‘m not,” he sticks his tongue out at you, “i want another kiss.”
“another?” you blink in surprise. your eyes widen slightly when a cheeky smile creeps up his lips. 
“you kissed me when you were sick,” he snickers, nose scrunching up when you force the syrup into his mouth. 
“no i didn’t,” you frown. he forces himself to swallow the cough syrup, a choked gasp leaving his lips.
“you don’t remember?” he whines, sniffling when you shake your head. 
you feel a pang in your heart when sae looks at you, eyes swimming with sadness. “‘m sorry, sae.”
“‘s fine,” he playfully smiles, “i’ll just have to make up for it later.”
heat spreads through your face. a pout tugs at your lips, “don’t say stuff like that. i might take you seriously.”
“i’m being serious,” he sniffles, “wanna kiss you again.”
you shyly stare at him, shrinking into yourself. you suppose being sick must’ve made him bolder. or maybe he just wants to get back at you. but you have to admit it gives you the perfect excuse to make him stop being so difficult.
“i’ll kiss you if you stop complaining about taking your medicine,” you quietly huff, fingers playing with your shirt. 
your ears feel like they’re on fire when his face lights up. “but only when you get better! i don’t wanna get sick again.”
he nods, a satisfied grin blooming on his lips. “sounds good to me.”
there’s a beat of silence before you stand up. sae’s eyes widen, “where are you going?”
“i’m gonna go make you some soup,” you hum, “you should sleep while i’m gone.”
sae pouts, “‘m not tired.”
“that’s too bad, then,” you stick your tongue out at him. he clicks his tongue. 
“i’ll be back soon,” you pat his head. he huffs, pouting.
you barely take a step forward, yelping when you feel something yank you back. your brows knit in annoyance when you feel sae wrapping his arms around you. 
“sae.”
“‘m only going to sleep if you stay with me.” he mutters.
an amused smile tugs at your lips. you’re starting to think he’s cute when he’s sick. a little clingy, but cute. (you also think you might indulge him just this once.)
“fine,” you sigh. “but i’m leaving as soon as you fall asleep.”
you don’t. 
you’re not sure exactly when you fell asleep, but you’re sure it wasn’t dark outside when sae pulled you towards him. part of you wants to stay with him, just to let him sleep longer. but you also know you need to make him some soup. 
so, you gently try to pry yourself off of him. a soft groan leaves your lips when his arms tighten around you. 
his name tumbles out of your mouth. “i have to go make your soup.”
“‘m coming with you.” his voice sounds hoarse. (his nose sounds stuffy, too.)
“sae,” you try to pry his arms off, “you need to rest.”
“‘m going with you.” he huffs, “there’s nothing you can say to make me not join you.”
you begrudgingly decide to indulge him again. which is why he’s slumped over your shoulder as you make your way to the kitchen. it’s why he’s holding onto your waist, burrowing his face in your neck as you move around the kitchen. 
(it’s why your face feels like it’s on fire when he nuzzles closer to you, smiling.)
and you think that maybe him being a little too clingy isn’t that bad.
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when a girl in your class asks you what sae is to you, you’re not sure what to say. 
you could say he’s your roommate, like you used to. but you don’t think he’d make himself extremely comfortable in your personal space if he was just your roommate. you could also say he’s your friend (much to everyone’s surprise.) but you’re not sure if he’d be so obsessed with kissing you whenever you’re both home if he was just your friend. 
(still, he’s not exactly your boyfriend, either. you’re not sure what he is. neither of you have brought it up before.)
either way, she wouldn’t be satisfied with the answer you give her. at least, that’s what you think with the way she glowers at you.
so, you just say he’s nothing. (which is a lie. but she doesn’t need to know that.) 
the result is what you expected, some angry huffing and empty warnings to stay away from sae. (not that it’d work seeing how you live with him.) except, things take a turn for the worse when your phone screen lights up, displaying sae’s name on it while it rings on the table. 
a pained expression flashes through your face when she clears her throat. you tilt your head up to look at her, an awkward, tense smile on your lips.
“i thought you said he was nothing to you?” she scoffs. 
“he is.” you internally curse how fast you replied. you hope she didn’t notice. 
she rolls her eyes, “then why do you have his contact saved with a star on your phone?”
you blink, your lips pressing into a fine line. “because he’s a star?” 
she doesn’t look convinced. (neither are you.) a loud, annoyed groan leaves her lips as she looks you up and down, crossing her arms.
“listen here, idiot,” she glares at you. anger flashes in her eyes when your phone rings again. “i don’t know who you think you are–” 
(you don’t know who she thinks she is, but with the way she seems to be unaware that you literally live with sae, you assume she must be some clueless freshman who happened to go to one of the football matches, saw sae, and became one of his many fans.)
“–but if you even consider the idea that sae might be into you–”
(you don’t even have to consider the idea, it pretty much solidified itself as a fact given with the way he kisses you until both of you are struggling to catch your breath whenever you two are alone.)
“–then you’ve got another thing coming,” she grabs your wrist, digging her nails into your skin. “i don’t know how someone like you got his number, but he doesn’t need freaks like you bothering him.”
she looks at you with contempt, “so stay away from him, or else–”
“or else what?” 
you both turn your heads to the door. her grip on your wrist loosens. you bite back a laugh when she removes her hand, shyly tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. 
“sae,” she takes a step closer to him. you hide your smile behind your hand when you see his clearly annoyed and disgusted expression. (you note he looks disheveled. you also notice his duffel bag slung over his shoulders.)
“or else what?” you snort at the clear anger in his voice. he glares at her, crossing his arms. she shrinks into herself, clearly nervous. 
“i was just trying to keep this freak away from you,” she plays with her hair. you feel embarrassed for her when she continues, “you shouldn’t have to deal with–”
“who the fuck even are you anyway?” he cuts her off, scowling. 
her eyes light up, “i’m–”
“leaving? i sure fucking hope so.” he scoffs, walking over to you. his face softens when he looks at you. 
sae extends his hand out to you, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips when you slip your hand into his. he reaches out for your backpack, quickly shrugging it on his shoulder before you can protest. 
“i thought you were one of the first people out of class,” he hums, lacing his fingers with yours.
your eyes flicker to the girl, who is still standing next to the table, face flushed in embarrassment. “i got held up.”
sae glances in her direction, scoffing in annoyance. “you’re still here?”
you can’t help but feel a little bad for her when her eyes well up with tears of embarrassment, her hands bunching up her skirt. “i thought–”
“you thought wrong,” he clicks his tongue, “now get lost.”
her eyes snap to yours, anger replacing the embarrassment, “i thought you said he was nothing to you!”
sae gasps, looking at you, hurt written all over his face. you look away, biting the inside of your cheek. he calls out your name, “why’d you say that?”
“i didn’t know what else to say,” you mumble. 
“say i’m your boyfriend!,” he huffs. “or do you not want to say that?”
heat floods your face. you hide your face in sae’s back when you hear choked sobs. you tug at his jacket, “can we just go home already?”
you take a peek at the girl from behind sae’s shoulder. “i don’t want to talk about this here.”
“fine,” he mutters, “but this conversation is not over.”
he drags you out of the classroom. you don’t look back, but you gnaw your bottom lip when you hear muffled sobs coming from behind you. 
you both walk in silence for a bit. a small smile blooms on your lips when sae slows down his pace to match yours. 
“i’m surprised you didn’t tell her off.” he hums. 
“you got there before i could,” you fondly shake your head, “i would’ve loved giving her a piece of my mind.”
a soft laugh leaves his lips, “i’m sure you’ll find another occasion to do so.”
the walk home feels quicker than usual. you suppose it’s because sae’s actually with you instead of over the phone.
you’re barely past the door to your apartment when sae wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. he relaxes when you wrap your arms around him. 
“if someone asks you what i am to you,” he nuzzles his face into your neck, “just tell them i’m your boyfriend.”
“are you sure?” your hands clench around his jacket. 
he pulls back slightly to look at you, confusion written all over his face. “yeah? am i not your boyfriend already?”
“i don’t know?” your brows knit in confusion. 
“i thought it was clear?” he blinks. “it wasn’t clear to you?”
“i don’t think i would’ve been threatened by one of your fangirls if it was clear,” you deadpan. 
“oh.” he presses his lips into a fine line. “well, now you know.”
your jaw drops, “you’re not even going to ask if i want you to be my boyfriend?”
“i think it’s safe to say we’re well past asking,” he stares at you. 
“still,” you pout, “it’d be nice if you did.”
“what, are you going to give me a sticker if i do?” he scoffs. 
“i was gonna give you a kiss, but if you don’t wanna ask, then–”
“would you let me be your boyfriend?”
laughter spills out of your lips, “you didn’t even let me finish!” 
“just answer my question.” he smiles. “and hurry it up too, i have to clean.”
you playfully shake your head, “so demanding. but, i suppose you can be my boyfriend.”
sae’s lips are on yours as soon as the words leave your mouth. you gasp in surprise when he nips at your lower lip. 
you’re not sure how long he kisses you for, but you feel dizzy when you pull away. you angle your head away from his when he chases after your lips again. 
“i thought,” you pant, “thought you said you had to clean.” 
“it can wait.” he breathes out. 
“i have to cook.” 
he angles your head back to face him, “it can wait.”
“but–”
he calls out your name with a smile, “it can all wait. just let me kiss you again.”
“okay.” you smile when he tilts your head towards his. 
you think you’re starting to understand sae’s obsession with kissing you.
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when you think of itoshi sae, the first thing that comes to mind is: boyfriend. you’re not sure if you’re ever going to get used to calling him that. you’ve told him it still sounds weird, he simply says it sounds perfect. 
you’re also not sure you’ll ever get used to the many pairs of eyes staring holes into the back of your head. (you blame sae for insisting you wear his spare jersey to his games.)
still, you suppose you could put up with all the staring if it means you get to see sae play.
(even if it means you have to endure his showing off for the next hour.)
“did you see how great i was out there?” he puffs out his chest. 
“you were the best!” you smile when he laces his fingers with yours. “i think you deserve a reward.”
you bite back a laugh when his head turns to look at you, eyes twinkling with anticipation. “close your eyes.”
you can practically feel the excitement rolling off of him as he closes his eyes. you let go of his hand, snickering when his brows furrow. you quickly reach into your bag, pulling out the sticker sheet you stashed in there. 
a laugh leaves your lips when you gingerly place a star sticker on sae’s cheek. “you can open your eyes now.”
you heartily laugh when sae touches his cheek, glaring at you when he feels the outline of a star. he huffs, “you’re the worst.”
“shut up, you love them.” you flick his forehead. 
he tsks, poking your nose. “when you said i deserved a reward, i thought you meant a kiss.”
“i can kiss you if you want.” you cheekily smile at him. he huffs, crossing his arms.
he turns his head away from you, “you ruined the moment with those stupid, lukewarm stickers.”
“you say that as if you don’t stick them against your mirror.” you stick your tongue out at him, the corners of your lips lifting into a smile when his cheeks flush. 
“i hate you,” he frowns, looking at you.
“no you don’t,” you peck his cheek.
“whatever,” he grumbles, “let’s just go home already.”
you laugh when he grabs your hand, tugging you in the direction of your apartment. (you don’t mention the smile on his lips.)
“i’m going to cook today,” he laughs when you groan in disgust. “i’ve gotten better!”
“yeah, right.” you quip. “i think it’d be better if you clean while i cook.”
“what if we cook together?” he hums.
“you’ll just get in my way.” you smile, laughing when he shakes your arm. 
“what if we go out to eat?” he shrugs nonchalantly. (you still notice the flush on his ears.)
“itoshi sae!” you gasp dramatically, “are you asking me out on a date?”
he scoffs, cheeks turning bright red. “don’t make a big deal out of it.”
“i’d be honored to go out with the itoshi sae,” your voice drips with mischief. a soft gasp leaves your lips when he tugs you to him, wrapping his arms around you.
“i think it’s me who’s honored to go out with you,” he mumbles. you hug him back, nuzzling into him. 
“we still need to head home, though,” he pulls away, “i want to take a shower.”
“want me to join you?” you laugh when you see his scandalized expression.
“you’re so shameless!” he bites back a laugh, hiding his face behind his hands.
“oh, please, like we haven’t showered together before.” you playfully scrunch your nose. 
he clicks his tongue, “as tempting as it sounds, i really would like to go eat early today.”
you fondly roll your eyes, tugging him towards your apartment. “fine.”
“but i’m not opposed to taking a shower with you when we get back.” he bites back a smile when you smack his shoulder.
the walk home is filled with laughter, teasing smiles on both of your faces. and, for once, you’re glad to have an opinion of sae.
(especially because it’s based on the version of your sae, and not the one everyone else thinks he is.)
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2K notes · View notes
lorrainmorgan · 3 months
Text
Serpents at the Library
🔞❤️‍🔥 NSFW // MDNI 🔞❤️‍🔥
⚠️ Ominis x F! reader⚠️ Spicy content ahead.
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“So, my dear, you think you've been good? Tell me just how much you believe you deserve what I can give you.” Ominis purred.
The Library's second floor was mostly deserted, save for a lone figure sitting in the farthest cubicle. Ominis was patiently waiting for your arrival. You had agreed to meet after your last afternoon class, but you were already running late. Suddenly, Ominis perked up at the sound of your footsteps drawing closer.
"Hello Ominis, I'm sorry I was late, Professor Binns couldn't stop talking and the lesson just kept going and… I’m sorry" you sat down next to him.
He continued to read his book with his flickering wand, trying to ignore your existence as much as possible, but couldn't help but notice how close to him you’d sat down, almost touching his arm with yours.
You quickly noticed his annoyance. Trying to easen the things between you two, you pulled out of your bag a bag of Berttie Botts and placed it next to him "You can have as many as you want" .
"Thank you, but I don't want any." Ominis turned the book page with his wand. He didn't want to engage in conversation. 
"What have I done to you? Being late for something that was not my fault gives you no right to be rude to me, and you’ve been weird around me lately…why?" You finally spat at him.
The corner of Ominis's mouth twitched upward again. His head tilted to the side and his unseeing eyes glimmered with frustration, drawing you in closer. As he leaned towards you, his hand took hold of yours, sending shivers down your spine rather than offering comfort as intended.
Finally, his voice broke the silence, low and dangerous as he spoke. His words hung in the air like a warning. "I am not being rude, Y/N."
In response, you reached for a bright blue Berttie Bott bean and slowly brought it up to Ominis' lips. He took it obediently, chewing on it quietly. 
"Then tell me, why are you so angry? It's not because I was late... is it?"
After a moment of hesitation, Ominis nervously cleared his throat and shifted on his seat. The signs of a blush spread across his face, coloring his ears and cheeks a deep shade of red. He lowered his voice to a harsh whisper, every word dripping with anger and frustration.
"I'm angry... frustrated by the fact that I overheard Sebastian wanting to take you on a date," he admitted, his eyes flashing with jealousy. "He was finally going to declare his love for you." Turning away, he ran a hand through his hair in frustration before continuing.
"We've known each other since we were kids. We've grown up together, and you've always been so kind to me," Ominis confessed, the words tumbling out in a rush. "But the truth is, I care about you…" He paused to catch his breath "I wish I didn't have these feelings for you, I wish I had someone else to love. But I-" Suddenly realizing what he had just revealed, Ominis' eyes widened in shock.
Your jaw dropped as you processed his accidental confession.
As soon as the words had escaped his lips, he regretted them. But it was too late to take them back now. "Ever since our childhood days, my feelings for you have grown deeper," he confessed. "I've always imagined kissing you, holding you in my arms and feeling your warmth against mine. I've yearned for more than just friendship with you, but I couldn't act on those desires because of our close bond with Sebastian.”
An electric surge of adrenaline coursed through your body, igniting a desire to kiss Ominis. But you quickly squashed the impulse, reminding yourself that he is holding back and you are a proper lady who must maintain control… Right?
You knew that Ominis was waiting for a sign from you, a green light to act on his own desires. You inched closer to him, until your lips were mere inches apart. As you gazed at the constellation of moles on his cheek, your thoughts raced with the overwhelming urge to press your lips against each one.
Like a magnet to a metal, you rapidly and boldly grabbed Ominis' face in your hands and pulled him towards you. He didn’t resist, he surrendered willingly, eagerly meeting your lips as you both gave into the intense craving that had consumed you both. 
The taste of your sweetness burned his tongue . He didn't hesitate any longer, and wrapped his hands around your waist, pulling you closer to him. He kissed you deeply, passionately, and with a hunger that had been building inside him for years. 
As your tongues intertwined, he felt the heat between you grow stronger. The kiss was intense, and filled with desire and longing. When he broke away from it, he put your bags and other textbooks on the side of the cubicle, blocking the view from possible and unwanted prying eyes. 
A grin spread across his lips as he leaned in to kiss you. The kisses grew more intense and demanding, with a roughness that made you almost dizzy. 
He held you tight against him, the heat of his body enveloping yours.
Without breaking the kiss, you rose from your seat and straddled Ominis' lap, your legs embracing him. The chair creaked under the weight of two students entwined with each other. It was scandalous, doing this in the middle of the day, in the quiet library where anyone could walk in at any moment. But the danger only heightened the thrill for both of you.
The primal urge to claim you, to mark your body as his own, overtook Ominis. With a slow movement, he slid his hand down under your gray skirt and firmly cupped your ass. A low growl escaped him as he lifted you slightly and placed you on the wooden cubicle desk table in front of him. 
Your bodies rubbed together, and pressed against each other while he bit down on your lower lip, gently sucking on it as his hips ground against yours. His erection grew harder with each movement, the intensity almost too much for him to handle. 
He leaned in, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your neck as he left a trail of small pink bruises with each kiss. 
Ominis took your right hand, guiding it to the center of his pants where the bulge of his arousal strained against the fabric. His breath was hot against your ear as he whispered for you to feel him, to feel his size and understand the depth of his desire for you. The heat between your bodies intensified as you explored his length, sending sparks of pleasure through both of you.
“You see what you do to me?” Ominis growled, his now dark blue blind eyes smoldering with desire. "I can barely focus on anything else. I've even skipped classes just to relieve myself because of you." 
His hand trailed down your body, finding its way to your nipples which were already stiff and pressing against the fabric of your clothes. A low moan escaped from your lips as he teased and squeezed them between his fingers. Every nerve end tingled with need in your body. 
Ominis could feel himself growing harder and harder beneath your touch, the ache in his loins becoming almost unbearable and painful. He couldn't wait any longer. He wanted you right there, in the library, in that small wooden cubicle, in the middle of the day. Nothing else mattered except for fulfilling his desires with you.
With a sense of urgency, you swiftly unzipped his elegant pants and undid the button. Your fingers eagerly searched within his trousers, freeing his hard member from its confines. It stood tall and proud before you, like a monument to desire. 
His skin was as smooth as polished marble, flawless and pale, devoid of any hair. In one hand, he held a flickering wand, ready to warn of any intruders, while the other guided your hand up and down his length. 
As the rhythm between you grew steady, he reached for the buttons of your shirt. You quickly assisted in removing it, unable to wait any longer. Omnis could feel your desire for him, and he couldn't resist you either. As he pulled off your shirt, followed by your laced bra, he traced his fingertips over the delicate fabric. The texture felt exquisite to his touch. 
"Do you always wear such delicate lace bras, Y/N?" Ominis teased as his hands traced over the curves of your perfect breasts, causing them to rise and fall with each agitated breath. 
He pressed soft kisses as he unclipped the last piece of clothing covering your upper body. Ominis took his time, lavishing attention on both breasts equally, determined to give them the love and pleasure they deserved. His lips latched onto your hard pink nipples, suckling and nipping at them until he heard your soft moans echoing in his ears. 
"Not so loud, my dear. Your neediness is showing itself all of a sudden," Ominis said in a teasing tone. 
Your inner thighs pressed against his cock, creating delicious friction that made you moan even louder. Ominis' hand covered your mouth, muffling the sound as he continued to drive you wild with desire.
“Ominis I’ve been good… please” Your words were desperate and incoherent, barely making sense as they spilled out of your mouth.
Ominis joined in your game as soon as you gave him that green light. He pulled your skirt all the way up, exposing your beautiful skin to him.
“So, my dear, you think you've been good? Tell me just how much you believe you deserve what I can give you.” Ominis purred.
Ominis' hands, rough yet gentle, explored the soft skin of your inner thighs with a sense of urgency.  His unseeing eyes were locked onto your lips, and you couldn't help but grab him by his necktie and bite his lip in punishment for making you suffer. 
"I need you" you pleaded with desperation in your voice. "Please... I deserve it. I'm sorry I was late..." You knew you sounded pathetic, but at this moment, you didn't care. And Ominis loved it - every moan, every plea, every incoherent sentence that fell from your lips. 
His hand traveled lower and reached your white, soaked cotton panties. He could feel the heat emanating from your core, and he wanted nothing more than to claim it for himself. 
He gently pulled the bottom of your panties aside, exposing the delicate folds of your womanhood. The pale pink flesh glistened with your arousal, beckoning him closer. With his index finger, he traced the outline of your clit, eliciting a soft moan from your parted lips. Then, with a wicked grin, he lowered his head and tasted the sweet nectar that flowed from your entrance, putting one of your legs on his shoulder.
"You taste divine," he purred against your sensitive skin. "But I have a feeling you already know that."
You couldn't deny it as he continued to explore and tease you with his tongue. And when he finally pulled away, leaving you breathless and wanting more, he spoke again while circling your sweet spot. 
"I've heard you at night, darling. In your dorm room, alone with your thoughts and desires. I used to think you were pleasuring yourself while thinking of Sebastian, but now I wonder...who were you really thinking of?"
Your heart raced at his words, and before you could answer, he pressed his hard length against your slick entrance. You couldn't help but twitch in anticipation.
“Well, darling?. Who were you thinking of?” He wanted to hear his name falling from your lips, to know that you desired him as much as he desired you. 
Your dizzy head could only manage to cry a single word.
“ You.” 
Ominis pushed himself inside you, and he felt your walls clamp down around him at his abrupt move. He gently slid in and out, and he heard the moans leaving your chest. He couldn't believe how good you felt, and he couldn't wait to make you scream his name. He kissed you deeply, and he started to move faster. He could feel his balls slapping against your thighs.
Ominis picked up his pace, and he felt your hips moving against him. He could feel the wetness on his cock, and he felt it slide in and out of your body. He kissed you deeply, and he felt your hands grasping onto his back.
You almost felt guilty for how good Ominis' cock felt inside of you. How he moved, how his fingers traced every inch of your back, of your breasts, of your sex. 
"O-Ominis, Om-" You cried in his ear, almost reaching your climax. His handjob and the rhythm he had was the perfect equation you need to reach your orgasm. 
His movements became more urgent, his body pulsing with pleasure as he neared climax. 
Ominis could feel his balls tighten, the sensation intensifying with each thrust. A low growl escaped his lips as he released himself inside of you. He felt his hot liquid pouring out of him. With a satisfied low moan, he pulled out of you, feeling his slick cock drip onto the floor. He knew there would be a mess to clean up later, but at that moment, he didn't care. 
Despite everything they had just done, he was still hard and eager for more. Ignoring your need to catch your breath, he plunged back inside of you, causing you to gasp loudly and draw attention from the nearby librarian. 
The librarian's voice cut through the hazy fog of pleasure, jolting you out of your intense concentration. But not Ominis’.
“Dears? Is everything okay up there?” Her concerned tone was met with a sharp demand from Ominis. 
“Tell her we’re fine.” he commanded, his thrusts not faltering for a second. 
You struggled to compose yourself and spoke in a strained whisper, “W-We’re fine Ma’am, thank you.”
“Do you need assistance with anything dear? I can’t hear you very well.” The librarian's footsteps could be heard coming closer to where you were entwined with Ominis.
“Tell her we need bigger tables so I can fuck you in different posit-” 
“We’re good ma’am, Thank you!” You finally managed to say loud and clear.
“Shhh. Please do not scream,” she scolded gently. “Very well then, I’ll be at my desk if you need me.” With that, her footsteps receded and the two of you were left alone once again
Without warning, Ominis' hand shot out and wrapped around your neck, his fingers exerting just enough pressure to display his dominance. But despite his forceful hold, he was careful not to cause any harm. 
"Have you had enough of me, darling?" He growled in a deep, commanding voice.
"No…" You breathed out, your fingertips tracing the outline of his lips as you balanced his aggression with gentle and loving touches. 
Suddenly, he released you and spun you around, lifting one of your legs up onto the desk table. With ease, he slipped back inside of you and your body immediately responded with an arch of pleasure. 
His lips trailed down your back as his grip tightened on your hips, guiding the pace of his cock entering and exiting your body. Every thrust sent waves of ecstasy through you, leaving you in a state of pure bliss under his cold hands.
Your body trembled as his strong hand pulled your hair, forcing you to stand up straight and press against his hard chest. He grasped your neck with his other hand, exerting a gentle pressure as he massaged your swollen breast with cold fingers.
You were completely at his mercy, just as you always had been.
As the rhythm of his thrusts intensified, the sound of his balls slapping against your backside echoed through the empty cubicles. His pale hand found its way down to your throbbing clit, where he teased and rubbed it in tight circles. Each time he penetrated you deeper, it felt like he was claiming a piece of you. His powerful grip on your throat only added to the intensity, accompanied by his hoarse moans that filled your ear with your name over and over again.
All of these sensations combined into one overwhelming wave, bringing you both to another explosive orgasm. It was everything you needed in that moment, and you couldn't help but surrender completely to him. 
Ominis slowly withdrew from your body, leaving a trail of warmth and satisfaction in his wake. His body pulsed with pleasure as he released his warmth onto your back. Your skin tingled with the lingering sensation of his touch.
As you both caught your breath, Ominis reached for his handkerchief to clean up any traces of your intimacy. With gentle care, he helped you dress and made sure you were comfortable, continually asking if you were okay. 
Once you were fully clothed, he led you over to the desk again, sat you down, resting his head in your lap as he gazed up at you with adoration.
“May I have some Bertie Botts now, please darling?”
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simmerandwrite · 4 months
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Sink Into Me - 08 - mob!Steve Rogers x plus size!reader
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Pairing: mob boss! Steve Rogers x plus size! reader
Summary: You were simply doing a good deed, pulling the handsome stranger out of the way when a car jumped the curb. Little did you know that the life you saved belonged to Steve Rogers, the Army veteran turned art dealer with connections to the Brooklyn crime syndicate.
Steve Rogers, who won’t stop calling you his guardian angel.
Steve Rogers, whose new goal in life just might be repaying his debt to you.
Steve Rogers, who isn’t shy until it comes to his feelings and will stop at nothing to keep you safe.
Chapters: 01 02 03 04 05 06  07 08 09
Wordcount: 8.3k
Warnings: canon level violence (guns, physical fighting), allusions to dog fighting (but no mention of any kind of abuse), some angst
Notes: HI I AM SO SORRY ABOUT THE DELAY. life, ya know? but enjoy this little treat, please. and.. uhm.. sorry.
---
“We need to talk about Steve Rogers.”
You took in a hard breath and scanned the man - he had a permanent smug look to him, something that made you feel unsettled. The tag around his neck with his badge indicated his name was Grant Ward, NYPD detective. 
“Give me back my phone,” you said, slowly emptying your lungs in an attempt to stay calm. “Now.”
Ward shook his head, grinning. “Not yet. C’mon, let’s chat.” He slipped your phone inside his jacket pocket and grabbed your elbow, urging you to step further across the sidewalk in front of a closed down shop. “I got your info from Hammond’s file. You were a witness on a little vehicular assault case a while back, right?”
Nothing about this felt proper or to procedure. But you wanted it to end as quickly as possible, so you nodded. 
“What I need to know is why Steve Rogers asked you to lie on your witness report and identify the wrong person.” 
“Excuse me?” Your voice cracked as you tried to piece together what he was saying. “I didn’t lie about anything. Shouldn’t - shouldn’t Officer Hammond be following up with me - if there was an issue?”
“I’ve reopened the investigation.” Ward leaned against the building, glancing up and down the street casually as he spoke. “Your intentional misidentification put someone innocent in jail. How do you sleep at night?”
“I didn’t lie,” you repeated, swallowing hard. Hercules paced at your feet. 
“You’re lying right now. Rogers told you who to point out in that police lineup, didn’t he?”
You wanted to scream in this man’s face but given he was technically a person of the law, you resisted. Instead, you pursed your lips and opted to stay quiet. Shouldn’t you have a lawyer or something to represent you? God, why weren’t you into legal dramas instead of reality tv?
“Here’s what it looks like. Rogers asks you to help him out and in turn, you get a fancy new apartment. Isn’t that right?” Ward took a step forward and pointed past you, towards the rest of the block. “How else can you afford a luxury apartment working your little 9-5 gig? I verified your record of employment and something just doesn’t add up.”
Before you had a chance to reply to his asinine claim, he was reaching for his buzzing phone. “This is Ward.” You tried to listen to the other end of the call, but couldn’t make out the voice. 
He looked back at you, eyes roving up and down as he carried on with his phone conversation. “You’re kidding. That was all true? Wow. Okay. Yeah, I’m with her. Sure.” He raised his free hand and suddenly a nearby SUV was pulling up. “Heading there now.”
Your stomach twisted when Ward turned back to you. 
“Let’s go.” He tipped his head towards the vehicle, where the driver had gotten out to open the back door. “We’ve gotta move this chat elsewhere.”
Your eyes blew open, head shaking. “Absolutely not. Give me my phone and —“
Ward stepped towards you again, grabbing your hand that was holding onto Hercules' leash. “If you don’t get in that car willingly, you’ll have a dead dog on your hands. Is that what you want?” He flashed you a smile. “Let’s. Fucking. Go.”
--
“Storm coming tonight..”
Steve looked up from his plate of pasta, watching his mom across the table as she put down her cutlery. Sarah rubbed her hands together, tired with the weight of time and the pressure of weather changes that seemed to grow worse with each passing season. 
“I can feel it in these old joints,” Sarah continued, leaning back in her chair before glancing to the window above her kitchen sink.
“Ma,” Steve finally replied, quietly returning his own fork to the side of his plate. “Why don’t you skip the rest of this monologue about the weather and tell me what’s really on your mind?”
Steve tried to have dinner with his mother at least once a week, if time permitted. The last few months had been a bit chaotic for him though, mostly his own doing of course. And Sarah hadn’t pressed when he canceled. But, something about her tone and strange casual conversation wasn’t sitting well with him. In fact, he could read his mother really well and she was upset, maybe even mad at him. If there was one thing Steve hated, it was when his mother was upset with him.
He liked to nip it in the bud as quickly as he could.
Sarah sighed, slowly crossing her arms over her chest as she eyed down her son. “I haven’t had the chance to tell you about who I ran into at the hospital a few weekends ago.”
“You gonna give me a clue?” Steve smirked, taking a long pause to enjoy a sip from his wine glass. “Who?”
When your name left his mother’s lips, Steve felt his chest tighten. He had very quickly and casually explained to her that you and he had called things off, respectfully asking Sarah not to press him for details. Surprisingly, she hadn’t asked any follow up questions, though Steve knew she hadn’t been feeling positive about the news. In fact, he had assumed his mom would have had a much more passionate reaction. And maybe it was still coming.
He took a deep breath. “Oh. And.. how is she?” Would it be possible for this conversation to only last one more sentence? Would he be able to get out of it without his mother making him feel any worse?
When Steve met his mom’s gaze again, he knew that question wasn’t what he should have asked. He was starting to think maybe saying nothing would have been best.
“How is she?” Sarah repeated, letting out a hard laugh. “Steven.”
“Ma, listen, what happened between us is..” He hesitated. Complicated was not the word he wanted to use, but what else could he say? “I had to cut things off. She’s safer this way.” 
There. His heart was torn off his sleeve and slapped onto his plate. 
“Steve,” Sarah was softer this time, releasing the anger from her shoulders as she reached across the table for his hand. “You’re not being fair. To yourself. How are you supposed to live this way? Don’t you want a family in the future? Or a break from.. everything?”
Steve squeezed her hand but didn’t respond. Sarah waited another moment for him to say something, then stood and carried her plate to the sink. 
Without turning back around, she continued. “I told her about Hamilton House.”
Steve sighed, leaning back in his chair again and shaking his head. “Ma..”
“Why didn’t you just talk to her? She would have understood.”
“You barely made it out of that fire alive!” Steve pushed back from the table and met his mother at the sink, placing a hand on her shoulder. “And I can barely live with myself as is, but if something happened to her too, I’d..”
“Honey,” Sarah’s voice was even quieter now as she pivoted to look at him. She reached her hand up to cradle his face. “You need to stop blaming yourself, please.”
How could he ever do that? The scars were still quite obvious on many parts of his mother’s body - 
“Steve.” Sarah took in another deep breath. “I’m a grown woman who can take care of herself. And so is she.” There was your name again, coming off of Sarah’s tongue like it just warmed her soul. “She’s good for you.”
“That doesn’t matter anymore.” A painful laugh gurgled up in Steve’s throat. “I made pretty sure she’ll never talk to me again, unfortunately.”
“Steven.” This time the soft edge had left Sarah’s tone. The disappointment was back. “Don’t tell me you pushed that girl away on purpose.”
“I’m a grown man who can take care of himself,” Steve repeated back to her, stepping away from the sink and turning to grab his coat. “I’ve gotta go, Ma. Thanks for dinner.”
Sarah grabbed his wrist, eyes bright with words she wouldn’t say. Instead, she shook her head and sighed quietly. “At least take a container of pasta for Bucky.”
---
The further the vehicle traveled beyond your neighbourhood, the further your stomach sank. You did your best to listen to the conversations happening between Ward and his driver, but nothing seemed clear. 
Where were you going? Were you in trouble? You hadn’t lied to the police - you knew better than that. But how could you prove that when clearly they had another story created? Was this about Steve? You weren’t even talking to him. What the hell was going on?
The only thing saving you from a breakdown was Hercules resting his head on your lap. Gently you scratched behind his ears, doing your best to reassure your dog as he did the same for you. 
You were going to be okay. There had to be a positive solution to this mess. 
Eventually, the vehicle slowed down in an industrial area you weren’t familiar with. In the growing darkness of the night, everything kind of looked the same - rows of large warehouse style buildings, some in much worse shape than the others. As you approached one of the buildings, a garage door opened up to allow you access.
“Let’s go,” Ward barked out as the car stopped, quickly sliding through his door and throwing the one closest to you open. He reached for your nearest wrist. “But first..”
Handcuffs. What you could only assume were police-grade handcuffs joined your wrists together, despite your protests. Ward was choosing every opportunity to remind you he had a gun, so when he told you to head towards the staircase leading out of the parking area, all you could do was comply.
The driver, some other nameless brute listening to Ward’s every word, held on to Hercules’ leash and followed behind. The panic within you stirred.
The building had clearly once been a thriving warehouse or multi-level business hub. Now, it was reduced to whatever criminal activity these men were tied up in. Every second window was boarded up or leaking in cold air through broken shards, with the evidence of previous occupants littering the floors. Old desks, chairs, appliances laid strewn about.
Ward guided you across the second floor, leading towards the far side of the room. You could hear other voices as you approached. He yanked the door open and pressed against your back for you to enter ahead of him.
You stumbled past the threshold, lifting your head up to look around the room. It felt out of place, given the state of the building. This room remained intact from days before, the remnants of an executive office with a large boardroom table sitting opposite the broken windows. A man you didn’t recognize was seated behind an oversized mahogany table, a burning cigar hanging off his lips. Behind him, a disheveled blond wearing an ill-fitting suit jacket stood scrolling through his phone.
That man you did recognize – you were certain he had been one of the men who had broken into your apartment. You could feel the familiar wave of panic come over you again.
Sitting in a pair of chairs in front of the desk were another two men – one dressed in a long overcoat over his suit, with perfectly coiffed hair. The other donned more casual clothes, well worn with a scowl across his face, strong and silent. You thought perhaps you recognized them, too. You might have seen them at Shield or maybe they had worked with Steve? 
“This is her?” The man with the cigar asked, rising from his seat. The other two seated men had turned their heads to look in your direction, then stood the same. 
Ward laughed, returning his gun to his jacket, and reaching a hand to grip your neck. He urged you closer to the desk. 
“Russo – you’re sure?” The same man asked again, shooting a glance at one of the other two men. Ah, nice suit, nice hair - Russo. He had interrupted you and Steve, that day at his office.
“Yep. I know, doesn’t make sense to me either,” Russo replied with a dry laugh, stepping away from the desk and waiting to the side with the other man, Mr. Strong and Silent.
“Walker, you’re on dog duty,” Ward added after. He snapped his fingers and the guy scrolling on his phone was at attention, rolling his eyes as he grabbed Hercules’ leash from the driver. 
Hercules whimpered at the back of the room.
You tried to look towards your confused pup, but Ward’s hands landed on your shoulders. He pushed down to encourage you to sit in one of the vacant seats at the desk.
Finally, the man with the cigar looked at you. A tight smirk curled up on his face as he said your name out loud. “Well, nice to finally meet you. I’m Brock. We’ve got a lot to discuss.”
You sat still, hands resting on your lap. You resisted replying with some snappy commentary and instead dug your fingernails into your palms. Maybe you needed to comply, but God, what was the point of all this?
“I’m not really sure what I’m doing here,” you said quietly, letting out a long breath. “I told him-” you jerked your head at Ward, “-everything I said to Officer Hammond was true. Steve didn’t ask me to lie about anything and I’m sorry if someone you know ended up in jail but I had to tell the truth.”
Brock raised an eyebrow, amused. “Well, I don’t give a shit about any of that. We’ve gotta fix this and you’re going to help.”
You pressed your lips into a thin line. 
“You’re going to meet with Hammond and tell him you lied about-”
You shook your head. “I didn’t lie.”
Brock abandoned his cigar and slammed his hand on the table. “Don’t interrupt me, darling.” He took a breath and started again. “You’re going to meet with Hammond tomorrow morning and set things straight, alright?”
“And if I don’t?” You swallowed the lump in your throat as you asked your question. 
Brock leaned back in his chair, grinning. “You’re really asking that? Damn. Well, if you don’t - you’re never going to see your dog again, for starters.”
Your face fell and you shuffled in the chair again, turning to look back towards Hercules. “Please don’t hurt him.”
“What do you think, Walker? The mutt would be good for the pit, huh? They could use some fresh meat for the next fight.”
You gasped as Hercules pulled at his leash, trying to walk to you. Walker held the leash tight.
“P-please. Don’t. He doesn’t deserve that, he’s just..” Your voice shook as you turned and looked back at Brock. “Okay, fine. I’ll talk to Hammond.” You just had to agree and get out of here. Once you were home, you could call the police station and tell them the truth and and and–
“Hammond is expecting you first thing tomorrow morning at the station.” Ward was looking down at your phone, tapping away at the screen. Great, he was just sending messages on your behalf. You hated that. Clearly you were not getting your phone back. Fuck, how were you going to get out of this?
“Now,” Brock leaned onto his elbows on the desk, returning his cigar to his mouth for a long drag. “Let’s talk about Rogers.”
You gulped.
“I need every little dirty secret you’ve got,” Brock said with a snap of his fingers. “Let’s go. Talk.”
“I don’t..” You faltered, glancing around the room quickly. Russo was watching you carefully while his partner seemed to be preoccupied with his feet, his eyes were drawn down. “I don’t know what you think I might know.. Steve and I.. We.. He broke up with me a while ago.”
A laugh escaped Brock. “I heard that wasn’t the case.”
Russo stepped forward. “Rogers took you home from Shield a few weekends ago, did he not? Drove you right back into your apartment then even walked you to the door?”
You stilled. Why did these men know about that? Were they following you? Or Steve? How did they know where you lived?
“I don’t know anything, I swear. Even when we were..” You closed your eyes. “We didn’t talk about business.”
“You know, I don’t believe you.” Brock let out a frustrated huff and tapped his cigar ash to the floor. “Let’s start easy, alright? Rogers has a ledger, the Bible for all his transactions. Where does he keep it?”
You shrugged. “I honestly have no idea. I don’t remember ever seeing a ledger or–”
“Bullshit.” It was Russo jumping in now. “You were fucking him for months. Christ, give us something.”
If you shifted your head back and forth in a shake anymore, you were going to give yourself whiplash. “I-I don’t, really.” You didn’t like how they were both crowding in on you, guns visible on their hips as their voices escalated. “Steve didn’t tell me things - he.. I didn’t..”
“Where does he keep his safe? What buildings did he take you to?” Brock continued on, reciting any thought or question that seemed to jump into his head. “I need to know which Senator is really in his pocket. And what he promised to Rhodes.”
You repeated yourself again and again and again as they bombarded you. “I don’t know, I don’t know! He would never tell me those things.”
“Think harder then.” Brock stood up in a fury, circling the desk to plant himself in front of you. “I need something fucking useful.”
Squeezing your eyes shut, you tried to think of something, anything to stop this. Everything you retained about Steve wouldn’t be what they wanted - that he was an old soul, a gentleman who kept your best interests at heart. Who loved old musicals and his mother. Who cared deeply about things but had hurt you deeply, too. None of that would have been helpful so what the fuck were you supposed to do?
“I..” You let out a breath. Would it be worth it to lie?
“If you say ‘you don’t know’ one more goddamn time..” Brock leaned forward, closing in the space between you and reaching for your jaw. He held it between his fingers, keeping you in his grasp waiting for an answer. 
When you didn’t respond, Brock growled and reached for his cigar, flipping it in his fingers and bringing the burning end closer and closer to your exposed neck. You could feel the heat before it even touched your skin and all you could do was scream in anticipation. 
“I don’t– please! Please don’t-” You pressed yourself into the chair, trying to get as far away from him as possible. But, the burning sensation never came.
“Hey–” This was a new voice. The Strong and Silent man lingering near Russo had rushed between you and Brock, shoving him away before the cigar made contact with your skin.  “You said you weren’t going to hurt her.”
Brock pushed him back. “This has nothing to do with you, Castle. Back the fuck off.” 
Castle didn’t move - acting as a barricade between you and Brock. They stood at a standstill, and eventually Brock let out a long dramatic sigh. “Ward.” He snapped his fingers again and Ward came forward. Once again, a hand landed on your shoulder.
“Take her up to the roof.”
---
“Do we not fucking knock anymore?” Steve called out as Bucky burst into his office, dragging Peter by the collar as he did.
Steve’s patience had run thin following dinner with his mother. She had managed to stir everything else up again, the feelings Steve was desperately trying to eliminate from his heart. Yet, they hadn’t dulled over time like he wanted. They remained steady, as steady as the beat of his heart. 
“She’s good for you.”
On top of that, they had managed to clear out most of the out of territory drug dealers creeping into Brooklyn. But it hadn’t really stopped. The drugs still found their way in, and the problems were escalating moreso. Angry clients, aggravated partners, a particularly frustrated future Mayor who needed Steve’s compliance and trusted network underground for insight. 
The last thing Steve wanted to deal with now was another issue. But when Steve saw the panicked look in Bucky’s eyes as he grabbed Peter’s shirt, Steve paused.
“Show him.” Bucky urged Peter forward, eyes wide in a panic. “Now.”
Steve stood from his chair slowly, meeting the young man in the middle of his office. “What’s going on? Is this about Beck again?”
“No, sir. No. It’s uh..” Peter’s hand was shaking as he gripped his cellphone, tapping on the screen before he glanced between Bucky and Steve again. “I keep an eye on social media - mostly just to see what’s happening, who’s hanging out where. My friend Ned he..” Peter shook his head. “Whatever. No one knows it’s me who watches their stuff. So. I was clicking through John Walker’s Instagram stories - that guy is an idiot, by the way. Always trying to bait women to find him at clubs or wherever. And..”
Peter tapped through something on his screen then turned it toward Steve. “Mr. Barnes said he recognized the dog in the background of this video..” 
Steve snatched the phone and pressed play on the screen recording. John Walker was in the middle of the frame, filming himself with the front camera as he talked about which bar he’d be showing up at later. But none of that mattered to Steve. What did matter was the dog tied up in the background, pulling at his lead as he started to bark. 
“Christ. Sorry about the mutt. Dealing with something for work..” 
Steve raised his eyes from the screen, eyebrows furrowed. “When was this posted?”
Peter swallowed before he replied. “About 20 minutes ago.”
Bucky turned to Steve. “Is that..?”
All Steve could do was growl, shoving the phone back at Peter. “Send that to me. Right now.” Steve reached for his own phone, heading out the door of his office towards the primary club facilities. Bucky was at his feet, asking what he could do to help. 
“Buck, call Kate. I need a timestamp for when Hercules was picked up.” 
Bucky nodded and tore off, phone to his ear. 
Steve called Clint directly. “Barton, I need your help.”
---
Kate confirmed you had picked up Hercules just before they closed. She didn’t notice anything concerning, aside from your general demeanor seeming quiet. 
Clint reviewed security footage outside your apartment building entrance, back door and lobby. No sign of you. It’s possible you had picked up your dog then gone elsewhere, but Steve wasn’t convinced. 
Fuck. 
Fuck, fuck, fuck. 
Steve paced his office again and again, waiting desperately for some information. Peter and Thor had stolen off to a few well known bars to see if they could track down Walker or any of his friends. 
Clint had gone to your building to troll the neighborhood and seek out any additional video footage that might help. 
Steve called Vision to see if he could connect with Wanda to get some information about where you might be, without leading to anything especially suspicious. 
Steve needed to know where you were and if you were okay. Truthfully, he wouldn’t be able to settle until he knew you were safe - until he saw you himself. 
This was the fucking risk, wasn’t it? Letting you in. People were going to use your relationship against him. It was staring him right in the face all along. Fuck, how could he live with himself if you got hurt?
Steve let out a fit of rage that had been brewing within him. He grabbed the rocks glass off his desk, still half full of melting ice, and sent it flying into the back of his door. 
God fucking damnit. He didn’t like any of this. With no news from Vision and Wanda, his mind was going to bad places.
Steve stalked across the broken glass and threw his door open, grabbing his coat as he left. He found Bucky downstairs at the bar, phone in hand as Natasha leaned beside him. 
“Please tell me someone has some fucking news to share,” Steve growled out as he approached. He didn’t even have to ask Natasha to pour him a drink, as it quickly appeared on the bar. 
“No Walker sightings yet,” Bucky said as he glanced at his phone. As he turned the screen, a new message appeared. 
The text didn’t contain any information or words, just a simple location pin. Bucky tapped on it, revealing an address on the outskirts of Brooklyn. 
“Who sent that?” Steve asked, eyeing over Bucky’s shoulder as he drained his glass. 
“No clue. I don’t know the number.” Bucky replied quietly. “No message either. Just a thumbs up emoji. But the timing is suspect.”
Steve shook his head. What did he have to lose? “Let’s go. Have Sam meet us there.”
---
You should have worn more layers, warmer clothes. Not that you anticipated being abducted on your way home. But you trusted the warm fall morning and now all you had was regret. A thin sweater barely kept you covered and the looming thunder overhead meant the threat of rain was very real. 
Ward had dragged you up the barren staircases to the roof, where he had then removed one of your handcuffs only to attach it to some external pipe system that hugged the outside wall of the building. You could sit on the dirty cold roof or stand and try to peer down, but nothing else. You were stuck. 
When you tried to plead with Ward  for your escape, he only smirked then offered an alternative. 
“Tell you what - if you get on your knees for me, I’ll remove the handcuffs altogether.”
As an answer to that proposal, you spit in his face. He really didn’t like that - which left you pushed to the ground and cuffed with no coverage from wind or impending rain. God fucking damnit. 
Once Ward disappeared through the door again, you yelled for help. If it made any lick of difference, you had no idea. There was another building very close by, yelling distance at least. But it looked abandoned just the same. On the other side of the roof, it looked like an emergency staircase existed. 
Not like you’d be able to escape. You seemed very stuck.
Were they going to leave you out there all night? Was this some scare tactic? What did they want from you - a detailed breakdown of everything you knew about Steve? You couldn’t do that - you wouldn’t. Despite the ricochet of emotions you had been through with Steve, you still felt.. something to him. Be it loyalty or kindness or whatever, you couldn’t throw him under the bus. 
Steve was a good person. You saw that in him often. But these men? You weren’t so sure. 
What if they left you until you had to meet with Hammond? Ten hours in the cold and rain. You could survive that, maybe. Maybe. 
Thunder rumbled above you. Rain started to fall. 
Fuck. Maybe not. 
In an attempt to make yourself as small as possible, you sat against the side wall and wrapped your free arm around yourself. It didn’t do much to protect you from the rain, but it helped retain what little body heat you still had. 
You weren’t sure how long you sat in the rain before you heard the access door burst open. You looked up and braced yourself, but felt almost relieved to see it wasn’t Ward again. 
It was Castle. 
He hesitated when he saw you, then quickly hurried in your direction. 
You closed your eyes in a panic. “I’m sorry - I don’t have anything to share about Steve  - I can’t remember if there was—”
“Hey, hey. It’s okay. I’m not here about that.” Castle crouched down in front of you. “I can’t let you go but let me help, alright?” He reached into his pocket and took out what looked like a Swiss Army knife. “I’ll get out of these cuffs at least.”
You braced yourself as he gently touched your wrist, using his tool to work through the lock mechanism. “Thank you.. uhm, Mr. Castle?”
He chuckled, barely. “Frank.”
You nodded, grateful as he freed your hand and left the cuffs dangling. “Thank you, Frank.”
“Over there,” Frank turned his head and pointed to the middle of the roof, where a small maintenance structure stood. It had a sloping roof that could provide more coverage. “Go. You’ll be covered at least.”
Frank got to his feet and offered you his hand. Once you were standing, he shrugged off his own heavy coat and handed it to you. 
“Frank,” you clutched the coat and met his gaze, eyes blurring from the rain. “Can you just.. make sure my dog is okay? Hercules? He’s a lover, not a fighter. But he’s all I have and- and..”
Frank gave you a curt nod. “Go.” He motioned back to the small shed and you nodded too. 
You had no idea why Frank was helping you. But you decided it had to be a good sign, right?
---
Steve had no idea what he was walking into. He had done this before – going in blind to certain situations was the nature of his entire job. It wasn’t always possible to anticipate who he would run into, if the person he trusted would deliver, if weapons were involved. But given his state of mind and the all-consuming worry he had about your wellbeing; he didn’t really care what he was faced with.
He just needed to figure out where you were and ensure you were safe. 
The location that had been sent to Bucky was outside of Brooklyn, just barely. Along an industrial neighbourhood, where plenty of abandoned factories and distribution centers lived, the coordinates lead them to a nondescript building. 
Steve and Bucky climbed out of the car, strapped with more than enough guns and ammunition to fight their way through whatever and whoever they were about to face. As they approached, Sam jogged into view, too.
“Thor couldn’t find Walker anywhere,” Sam provided as an update once they were waiting outside. “But Peter’s little tech friend managed to track a location for some recent postings to this general area..”
“Sounds like a likely place to look,” Bucky concluded, raising an eyebrow as he glanced at Steve.
Steve took in a deep breath, eyebrows narrowed as he gazed at the doors ahead of him. Raising his hands, he tugged at the collar of his coat and smoothed it out before nodding. He was ready to deal with this.
“If she’s anywhere in here, her safety is priority, you understand?” Steve glanced from Bucky back to Sam, waiting for their own nod of understanding. “If anyone put her in danger, they’re going to pay. But not at her expense.”
Bucky pressed his knuckles into his metal palm, a coy smirk raising on his lips. “Here’s hoping I get to fuck up Walker’s face again.”
Sam took the lead and yanked the dilapidated entry door open, busting open the lock mechanism with little effort. The main level they entered on was mainly being used for vehicle parking and what looked like some storage. A staircase led up to the next level.
Steve carried on - striding to the top of the staircase and heading through the doors. The entire building was in bad shape but this wasn’t their first rodeo.
Someone was hiding out somewhere. And when he found them, it wasn’t going to be pretty. 
“Sam - call everyone to be standby, including Thor and his brother. Get Barton to scope out next door, too. Lots of windows for coverage, the rooftop. Remind him about the Bullseye protocol.” Steve ran a hand through his hair then glanced to his right, motioning to the far door with Bucky. “You’re with me.”
In a few long strides, Steve reached the door and waited. Then, he raised a hand and knocked against it. Bucky stood behind his left shoulder. 
Someone on the other side of the door was yelling, then eventually they heard heavy stomping as someone approached. When the door opened, Steve didn’t hesitate - he leaped forward and reached for the collar of whoever it was. 
Steve growled. Grant Ward.
“Oh Jesus fucking–” Ward yelped out, trying to pull away from Steve’s grasp as Steve backed him into the room. “Take it fucking easy, Rogers. What the fuck are you–”
“Where is she?” Steve’s voice boomed, holding Ward in his grip as he glanced around the room. It was a fairly sparse leftover office, but sitting at the end of the large boardroom table was Billy Russo, Frank Castle and Brock Rumlow himself. A few other nameless thugs waited behind them, guns at the ready. “Where IS SHE?”
Steve threw Ward to the ground, reaching for his gun as the men at the table stood up and drew their own weapons, too. Bucky followed in behind Steve and kicked Ward down when he tried to get back on his feet.
“Stay down,” Bucky said to Ward. 
Rumlow moved from his spot slowly, waving his gun around and placing it down on the table as he walked towards Steve. “Rogers.”
Steve didn’t respond, darting his eyes from Rumlow back to Russo and Castle at the table. Russo looked away, suddenly preoccupied with anything else but Steve. Castle, though, also put his gun away.
“Rumlow.” Steve growled out your name this time. “Where. Is. She?”
Brock smirked. “Who? Oh.. yes. Sure. We just met. As far as I know, you two aren’t together anymore. What’s the concern?”
“If you fucking touched her-” Steve raised his hand again, gun pointing directly at Rumlow as they stood apart. “Tell me where she is.”
“Me and Russo have been talking. I think the three of us could be working together better. If you haven’t been picking off my dealers one by one, the pot could be a lot sweeter.”
“You and your drugs aren’t worthy of Brooklyn.” Steve stepped forward. “Tell me.”
“You know, I didn’t want us to meet like this.” Rumlow brought his hands up, in a faux act of surrender then slowly moved one of them forward to encourage Steve to put his weapon down. “In fact, I went through a lot of trouble to keep your pretty face away from here.”
“Not much trouble, it seems. And it sounds like you have a mole,” Steve shot back, sparing a quick glance back around the room. Russo looked away again but Steve met Castle’s eyes for a beat, then turned back to Rumlow. “Loyalty is rare around these parts.”
“Speaking of loyalty - your girl.” Rumlow stepped back and let out a long breath.
Steve matched him and stepped forward, raising his gun up once more. “If you laid one fucking hand on her–”
“I’ll tell you where she is after we chat, alright? I need a promise from you - to share the territory.”
Steve huffed, lips pursed as he scanned Rumlow’s face. “Tell me where she is.” Steve could hear Bucky shuffling behind him, metal fist clenched, growing just as impatient as Steve was. 
“Nah.” Rumlow shrugged, glancing around the room. “If you won’t negotiate, my lips are sealed. I still need her, gotta clear something up with the cops. Then, I don’t know. I guess she’s nice enough on the eyes, bit thicker than what I usually go for but maybe I’ll get her to warm my bed for a–”
Steve wasn’t an idiot. Rumlow was baiting him. And god fucking damnit it worked. Steve surged ahead, letting out another growl of rage as he attacked Rumlow with his fists.
On the other side of the room, Ward slid over to kick against Bucky’s knee - angering Bucky all the same. Sam rushed in to join them at the first sound of chaos. It wasn’t quite contained and really, it didn’t come as a surprise that everyone in the room was more than prepared for a fight. Rumlow’s extra lackeys seemed more than charged enough for the action. Bucky easily took care of Ward on his own, as Sam darted between helping Steve with Rumlow and the others as Russo tried to keep his distance. 
“Where is she?” Steve had Rumlow on the ground, pummeling his fists into Rumlow’s jaw. He didn’t get a response, as the sound of gunshots sounded out, ending with shards of glass flying across the floor. In a brief moment of hesitation after, Steve took in the rest of the room. 
Russo had slipped out. Castle too. 
“Sam!” Steve stood quickly, keeping his foot against Rumlow’s neck. 
Sam hurried over and tagged in as Steve rushed through the door to follow where the other two had gone. Running towards the staircase, he looked upwards and could hear the distinct sound of hurrying feet and the slamming of a metal door.
He bounded up the stairs towards the roof.
---
The rain continued to fall, although it had at least slowed down to a cool drizzle. It didn’t mean much since you were already soaking wet, though the coat from Castle had helped. It hadn’t really fit you but the extra layer kept you marginally more comfortable, despite the fatigue and hunger setting in. Was anyone else going to check on you? Would Castle come back to help?
Did.. did Steve know what was going on? Although - how would he even find out? Fuck, you kept going over everything again and again and again. The steps you took today, the conversation you had with Sarah a few weeks ago, Steve’s last words to you at your apartment…
You wish things had gone differently. Maybe in a different life or timeline, it might have all worked out.
Gunshots.
You could hear gunshots from somewhere nearby. Downstairs in the building, maybe. Truthfully, at least up on the roof, you were away from the reality of this situation - that these people had guns and clearly weren’t afraid to use them. Up there, in the rain, you could ignore all of that.
But no, here was the glaring reminder. A few more shots sounded out then it seemed to stop. You tried to keep ignoring it, laying your back flat against the wall of the structure until you heard the door open again. You couldn’t even bring yourself to look until you heard someone barking out your name. This time the voice belonged to Russo.
A set of footsteps tracked further onto the roof, but you held your safe position. Russo finally appeared ahead of you, a scowl etched on his face. “I thought Ward tied you up. Whatever, let’s go.” He grabbed your closest wrist, urging you away from your hiding space. You tried to yank yourself away.
“Please, I don’t want to-”
“Bill - come on, can’t we just drop all this?” Frank came into your eyeline next, looking you over quickly then back towards the door. “Rogers isn’t dumb, he’ll follow us up here anyway.”
Your heart jumped at Steve’s name. He was here, he was going to get you away from this.
Russo’s grip tightened on your wrist, though he turned to look at Frank. “The plan remains the same - we need her to talk to Hammond so Rogers can land some jail time. It’s the only way we can get ahead.”
Frank let out a noncommittal sigh. “Rumlow is a fuckin’ idiot. You don’t think his plan is to screw us over later too?”
“I don’t give a shit about that right now,” Russo growled, looking back towards you. “Let’s go.”
Frank hesitated again, but didn’t argue any further. You pleaded again as they took you to the far side of the roof, where the emergency fire escape stairs were. Russo let you go momentarily as he stalked over, peering down towards the stairs. 
“They should hold up, I hope” he said with a shrug, motioning his head for you to go. “Ladies first.”
You shook your head, taking a step back and glancing towards the door instead. “No, I..” You turned on your heel.
A gunshot sounded out behind you, loud and piercing. You screamed, eyes wide as you turned back. Russo was scowling again, holding his gun high as he shot it upwards into the sky. He lowered it slowly, pointing it at you directly instead. If that wasn’t enough of a warning. “Down you go. Now.” 
You glanced at Frank, who remained completely stoic as he looked between you and Russo. 
Suddenly, the door flew open again. You all turned to look.
A wave of relief flooded through you - it was Steve. He called your name as he walked towards you, never breaking his eye contact with you. In an instant, all your worries and doubts and everything seemed to shatter as he looked at you with such gentleness and grace.
Russo let out a hard laugh, waving his gun for a brief moment before aiming it back at you. “No time for your cute reunion. Let us walk away, Rogers.”
“Sweetheart,” Steve didn’t even bother replying to Russo, though he did stop in his tracks when he realized Russo had a gun pointed at you. But, Steve carried on, repeating your name. “Are you okay?”
You swallowed hard, jaw shaking as you nodded. 
Steve softened, for a fraction of a second. You knew he could tell you weren’t being honest. But what were you supposed to do? You were a hostage, soaking wet on a roof, with a gun pointed in your direction - no, you were not okay.
You watched as Steve transformed again, soft eyes replaced by hard lines, a tight jaw. He finally broke your gaze and turned his attention to Russo and Castle. “Let her go and we’ll all walk away from this unscathed.”
A loud laugh escaped Russo. “Right. I don’t think so. We’re walking away from this with the leverage we need.”
You watched as Steve took in a deep breath, then reluctantly put his hands up. “What do you want, Russo? Money, territory, names? What? I’ll give you whatever you want - just put your gun down and let her go.”
“You think I’m an idiot?” Russo shook his head. “No, I’m not playing this game.”
“This isn’t a fucking game,” Steve continued, reaching his hand slowly for his gun. He raised it up then just as quickly tossed it behind himself. “Please, Bill. Just leave her out of this.” 
“Billy..” Frank finally spoke up too. “Let’s call it, okay? Sounds like Rogers is willing to talk and–”
“No.” Russo took a step closer to you, gun firm in hand. “No, we’re going to–”
Before you realized what was happening, you weren’t even standing on your own two feet anymore. A flurry of noises rang out around you - screaming, gunshots, shouting. Someone had wrapped their arms around you – you fell towards the ground – you landed on.. Steve. It was Steve.
He had run towards you in the action, caging you in his arms as you both landed on the rooftop together. Safe. Alive. Steve shielded you with his own body from the noise and chaos happening around you. You didn’t know who had been shooting who, if anyone escaped or made it down the fire escape. All you knew is that you were safe, in Steve’s arms.
Steve was whispering out your name, again and again, like some sort of prayer on his lips. His words were wrapped in apologies, in cries for your safety, in hushed words that begged for reassurance. As everything else seemed to quiet down, he gently pushed himself up to peer down at you. 
“Sweetheart, I’m so–”
“Steve, it’s okay. I’m okay.. I’m..c-cold.” 
He shook his head and quickly shifted again, standing up and helping you back to your feet, too. He shrugged off his own jacket and draped it over you. Slowly, he raised his hand and slid it down the side of your face, wiping away stray droplets of water with his thumb. His palm was warm against your cheek, you could feel his whole heart pulsing as he held you. 
“I’m sorry, baby. I’m–”
“Steve!” Bucky’s voice broke you both from the spell. Steve reluctantly looked away from you, pivoting slightly as he looked towards Bucky running in their direction. Across the roof, both Frank and Russo were on their knees, hands wrapped behind their backs.  A makeshift bandage was wrapped around one of Russo’s biceps.
Wait, had someone shot him? It couldn’t have been Steve, he had put his gun down. Would Frank have..
Bucky leaned in slightly and mumbled into Steve’s ear, then they both looked across the roof towards the adjacent building. Bucky waved in that direction and Steve nodded, then they both turned back to you.
Before Steve could say anything else, you reached for his shirt. “Steve - you..we need to find Hercules. They said.. They..” You closed your eyes tight, head shaking as you tried to form your words. “They were going to take him somewhere to fight. I don’t know if..”
Bucky stood up tall again. He said your name firm, like a promise. “I’ll find him.”
As Bucky left, Steve wrapped his arms around you again - tighter this time. With one hand, he secured your back and the other cradled your head against his chest. He didn’t say anything and you couldn’t find any words either. 
---
You were back at Steve’s apartment. You thought you’d never see those big windows overlooking Brooklyn ever again and yet, there you were. Safe.
Safe and warm, following a long shower in Steve’s guest bathroom. Stripping away your damp clothes and stealing away into the stream for longer than probably necessary had been a nice escape. Especially given that Steve had driven you back to his place in silence - though it wasn’t as awkward as before. It just felt like maybe there were things you both needed to say but couldn’t bring yourself to mention yet.
Before you had left the building earlier, Steve hadn’t let you leave his sight. Well, except for about ten minutes where Bucky hovered over you instead.
Steve brought you inside, back downstairs to that same boardroom and office space. But this time, you weren’t faced with bad guys with guns. Well, the bad guys remained but the guns were gone.
All four of them were bound and seated at a chair. Ward’s head was lolled to the side, Brock had a bloody face, Russo and Castle were mostly left without much damage. But you had a feeling that wasn’t going to last.
Steve squeezed your hand, gently turning you away from looking at them. 
“Hey,” he said quietly, tipping your chin up with his thumb. “Can you tell me what happened? What they did?”
You swallowed hard, eyes wide for a moment as you considered his question. What was he going to do?
“Don’t overthink it, okay? Just tell me what you think I should know.”
You let out a breath then recounted everything. Ward ambushing you on the sidewalk, Brock threatening you, Russo joining in…
“But Frank he..” You finally spared a glance over your shoulder. Frank sat up straight in his chair, resigned to whatever fate awaited him. “He helped me. Tried to protect me, gave me his coat..”
Steve nodded, looking in Frank’s direction the same way. Steve called for Sam, then gave him another nod and Sam went to untie Frank from his chair. 
It was only a few moments later that Bucky showed up with Hercules, who - thank god - looked unharmed, if a little worked up. You couldn’t help but start to cry as you broke away from Steve and rushed to your son. 
But, It wasn’t lost on you how quickly Bucky led you away from the room with your dog. Or how the door shut behind you, leaving Steve and Sam in there with the rest of the men, the overlapping sounds and sounds of distress…
When you finally decided you had wasted enough water and regained all the proper feeling in your body, you shut off the water and let out a long sigh. Outside on the counter, folded neatly beside your warm towel, was some clothes you had left at Steve’s ages ago. Soft and clean layers to keep your temperature steady as you got ready for bed.
You supposed it was a choice you made - agreeing to go home with Steve instead of back to your own apartment. But you knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep there - not tonight. And you knew Steve would insist on staying and keeping guard outside your door anyway. So it made more sense this way.
After you changed, you found Hercules waiting for you in the hallway. You could hear Steve in the living room, speaking quite passionately on his end of a phone call.
“Jim, this is the only deal I’m making. Proof of your dirty cop aside, I’m handing you Rumlow alive on a silver platter, even though I should have let him bleed out. So you have to do this for me. I don’t give a fuck about protocol..” There was a heavy pause. “Every instance of her name on any police report - gone. I don’t want her attached to any of it, do you understand? No trace of her. I don’t care - redact it or burn it. Get that done and I’ll deliver Rumlow to you in the morning. Understood?” 
You knew you probably shouldn’t be listening, but it was your name he was mentioning.
“As for Russo, I’m dealing with that myself. But keep him on your radar. If you need another arrest to clench your win, you can have him once I’m done.”
You quietly slipped into the guest bedroom once you realized his call had ended. Once Hercules followed you in, you shut the door. Fuck. What happened now? Maybe you and Steve needed to talk about all of this - you definitely needed to talk about it.
You heard footsteps coming down the hallway towards the bedrooms and Steve stopped outside your door. You held your breath, wondering if he would say your name or knock. But - nothing. His phone buzzed again and he disappeared into his bedroom.
With a heavy sigh, you leaned against the door. 
---
Mentally, Steve was exhausted.
Physically, his energy peaked in the midst of the action and hadn’t seemed to peter off yet. 
You were safe, you were safe, you were safe.
Why couldn’t he calm down? You were one wall away, falling asleep. Safe. He got to you before anything critical happened. Christ, nothing should have happened in the first place.
Following his long frustrating phone call with Rhodes, he wanted to talk to you. He wanted to say everything that was weighing down his heart - but your door was closed and he couldn’t even find it in himself to knock.
You were probably even angrier with him than before - given that this was all his fault. But that was fine with him. He could deal with your anger if that meant you had any feelings towards him left. Anger counted.
He rinsed off in the shower then pulled on a pair of pajama pants before falling into bed, not that he was tired. His brain was wired and maybe an allnighter was in his future. 
Steve sent off a few last messages to Bucky and Sam, then discarded his phone on the nightstand. He leaned back against the headboard and–
There was a knock at his bedroom door. You were knocking. He swung his legs off the bed and hurried to open the door, just as you were about to push it open yourself.
“Hi,” you said quietly, meeting his eyes in the low light streaming in from his lamp.
“Are you okay?” Steve asked, scanning you for any signs of distress.
You shrugged, drawing in a deep breath. Then Steve took a step back, waving his arm to invite you in. You released your lungs slowly, nodding and following him inside. Wordlessly, he climbed into the bed and offered the open blanket to you, arms wide. You just nodded again, crawling in and finding a spot - your spot - underneath his arms.
---
CHAPTER 07 - CHAPTER 09
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ethanmorales · 11 months
Text
Misconceptions
Part 1 | Part 2
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Part Three - Thawed
Pairing: Ethan Morales x fem reader 2.7k words Requested Tags: @arij3lly @hitoshislut @bjrmaybank @ghostfaceorgirlfriend Warnings: swearing, smut
"I missed you.”
I roll my eyes. “You always say that".
“I always mean it,” he says.
I study him carefully and he lets me. His eyes never falter, just stay on mine as if he has nothing to hide.
“Did something happen?” I finally ask.
Ethan smiles, “You see too much, lady. Have I ever told you that?”
“Only when you’re mad at me,” I say with a shrug. He laughs at this and wraps an arm around my waist; then rests his forehead on my shoulder, hiding his face from me. I feel him taking a deep breath.
“I’m just tired.” He mumbles.
I wait a moment before responding as gently as I can, “Is it your parents again?”
His arms around me tighten but he says nothing. My heart sinks, suddenly feeling crappy about being mad at him all this time. I’m the only one that knows about his parents. The only person he can come to even if he never actually talks about it. Suddenly I feel guilty for thinking more about my own selfish feelings when I know he’s got a lot going on at home. Things that are far more important to him right now.
I lift a hand and smooth it over his hair as he continues to rest his head on my shoulder. We stay like that for a few minutes until he finally lifts his head, a cheeky smile adorning his lips.
“What?” I ask, already knowing him well enough to know that this smile means trouble. All kinds of trouble.
“Let’s do something stupid,” he declares.
I take a deep breath, “Fine. Just nothing illegal. I’m still traumatized about last time.”
Ethan laughs heartily. “You’re the reason we got caught!”
I huff, acting undignified. “Well, I’m sorry. At the time, I wasn’t aware that we were conducting criminal activity. My apologies!”
Ethan kisses me deeply, without warning, then pulls away from me like it was nothing. I stared at him, confused.
“You’re hot when you talk all proper,” he says with a shrug. I roll my eyes, fighting the smile that is tugging at the corners of my mouth. I lose the battle when he casually reaches out to hold my hand, steering me away from our oak tree. My heart performs somersaults in my chest, but I make sure to keep my voice light and neutral.
“Soooo, what are we doing?”
Ethan hesitates, then pretends to pout. “Apparently, nothing illegal. Those are the most fun things to do, ya know?”
I laugh at his theatrics.
Choosing my words carefully, I play along. “Some people might argue that there is at least one thing that’s more fun.” I wait for his reaction, a smartass comment or flirty remark at least.
Instead, he abruptly stops walking and with the hand that he is still holding, pulls me back and against his body. Face to face, mouth hovering over mine, noses touching, he speaks. “Don’t tease me, babe. Not unless you plan on putting your money where your mouth is.” I’m still holding my breath as his eyes look back and forth between my eyes and my lips. “You know damn well that I would have no trouble taking you right here where we stand.”
At his words, my knees suddenly feel weak. The familiar flame inside me suddenly comes back to life and rages like a firestorm. With eyes locked on him, I speak slowly, deliberately. “Maybe we should find somewhere private to continue this conversation.”
“Fuck.” He swears and pulls away from me, gaze quickly studying our surroundings.
My eyes stay on him as he struggles with a solution.
“Y/N, I need you to stop looking at me like that or so help me God, we won’t make it anywhere else.”
I bite my lip, unable to stop myself. I wanted him. I wanted him more than I’ve ever wanted anyone else. The fact that we’ve never gone past second base might have something to do with all this built-up hunger for each other.
“Did you drive here?” I ask.
He shakes his head, “Nah, needed the walk. You?”
I shake my head as well, “Only a block away for me. No point.”
We both go quiet for a few seconds and then we look at each other.
“My house” “I say at the same time he asks, “Is your mom home?”
“She’s working today.”
That’s all the confirmation he needs. Grabbing my hand again he pulls me with him in the direction of my house. We walk quickly, so it takes a little over 5 minutes to reach my front door. My hands are shaking as I try to unlock the door. Ethan takes the key from my hand and unlocks it for me. He motions for me to go first, so I do. He follows, closing the door behind us.
“My room is upstairs,” I explain, turning to face him. He’d come to visit before but has never actually been in my bedroom.
“Fuck that.” Ethan cuts the distance between us, grabs my face and kisses me hard. All I can do is loop my hands around his neck to hold on as he pushes me into the wall closest to us. I pull out of his kiss briefly to catch my breath, but he wastes no time as his mouth travels down to the crook of my neck sucking at the sensitive skin there. I let out a shaky breath, enjoying the sensations rippling through me from his work. After a moment, he looks back at me and smiles with mischief, lifting me and wrapping my legs around his own waist, to have a more secure hold on me. His lips find mine again and kiss me, once, twice. Pulling away before the kiss can deepen. Teasing me, I realize.
I huff, slightly annoyed. He chuckles at my reaction and with the proximity of our bodies, I can feel the vibration of his laugh quiver through my core. It’s enough to drive me over the edge. I weave my hands in his hair and pull him to me, kissing again for a moment then pulling at this bottom lip with my teeth. He groans at this, and I smile. The serious look on his face tells me he’s done teasing for now.
“I want you.” I say, my voice trembles with how strong the emotion truly is.
He starts kissing me again and I lose myself in it, barely aware that he has pulled us away from the wall and is carrying me to the first room he finds, which turns out to be the living room. I only realize we’ve changed locations when I feel the familiar softness of our couch against my back, with Ethan on top of me, slowly rolling his body into mine in a rhythmic grind.
I moan and I can’t stop the sound from escaping any less than I can stop the tension building inside of me which forces me to claw at his shirt, in my attempt to take it off. Noticing my struggle, Ethan helps take it off and proceeds to help me out of mine. Then my bra. I let myself enjoy the look on his face as he looks down at my bare torso. He makes a sound with the back of his throat and bites his lip.
“You are so fucking beautiful.”
I feel heat spread across my cheeks in a blush and this seems to rile him up more.
“Fuck, Y/N.” he kisses me again at the same time as one of his hands finds my breast. I gasp at the warmth of his fingers as he starts stroking me. His lips leave me again as he starts a trail of wet kisses down to my chest. With one hand still caressing one breast, his mouth finds the other one. He covers my nipple with his mouth and sucks at it softly, then harder, grazing his teeth. I moan, harder than the time before. He groans in response to me but continues what he’s doing. After he is satisfied with this part, he continues kissing down my stomach to my lower abdomen.
All I am aware in that moment is my ragged breathing, the wild thumping of my heart in my chest and the swiftness in which Ethan unbuttons my jeans and pulls it off me along with my underwear in what must be some kind of record. I barely have time to be impressed as he ducks his head between my legs and his tongue slips into my folds. I take a deep breath and grab a handful of his hair as he sucks on me. My breathing grows heavier as he kisses, sucks and licks my sanity away. The ache I feel has become unbearable and cannot imagine it’s any better for him.
“Ethan, please.” I beg.
He looks up at me, making eye contact briefly while licking the wetness on his lips and smiling at me.
“Almost baby.”
“What else do you want from me? I feel like I’m going to combust into goddamn glitter,” I was whining at this point. Which only made the smile on his face widen.
“I swear to God, Ethan. If you don-”
I gasp again as he inserts a finger inside of me while still holding my gaze steadily.
“You swear to God what?” he challenges.
I am too far gone to play it cool. I just want him, and I want all of him now.
“Please.”
He doesn’t bat an eye at my request, but he slowly starts sliding his finger in and out, maintaining eye contact with me. The movement is so unbearably slow, I feel like I could claw his heart out for being such an asshole.  But the flame inside of me is consuming me so I start moving my hips against his finger to make the process faster. Ethan chuckles.
“That’s fucking sexy,” his voice is low with lust, almost a growl.
But still, he does not give in. So, I decide enough is enough and push him off me to the side and he meets the ground.
I hear him laughing and groaning in pain from hitting his elbow on the coffee table.
“Okay, I deserve that,” he starts saying but stops once he realizes I’m on top of him now, already working on the button of his jeans. His hands meet mine to help but I swat them away, already done unbuttoning it. Helping him out of his jeans is nowhere near as graceful as when he did it, but I got it done.
I marvel at the size of him, the wetness between my legs intensifying at the sight. Ethan doesn’t move, aside from placing his hands on my hips once I straddle him, knowing it was my turn to run the show. I slowly run a finger along his member, and I feel him tremble just from the light touch. I smile, looking at all of him. The lines on his stomach are defined, accentuating the tattoo on his left ribcage. I trace a finger over the words, still he doesn’t move. I bent down and licked through the space separating his abs. I hear an intake of breath, but nothing else.
“You’re very patient.” I say calmly.
“Not that patient,” he mutters. I glance at his face, and he looks tortured. His soft curls are framing his face. Mouth in a thin line, eyes half closed- he looked like one of those sculpted Greek gods.
I lean in to kiss him, very softly this time, just a brush of our lips. He tries bringing me closer but stops once he feels me pulling his member inside me. We both moan once he is fully inside, and I start rolling my hips back and forth. I start riding him slowly and start increasing my tempo gradually. Ethan is moaning nonstop, and I feel him swelling up inside of me with every movement, filling up all the space inside me. Finally, he swears under his breath.
“If you’re waiting for me to beg-
I cut him off, “You can help now.”
Without a moment of hesitation, he rolls us over so that he is back on top. He kisses me hard once more before he plunges himself deep into me. I don’t care how loud I’m being as he repeats the motion, each time harder and deeper, hitting my g spot without mercy.  But the tempo does not change.
“Faster.” I demand.
This time he doesn’t tease or ignore my request. He moves faster, his hips rolling into mine, burying himself all the way into my core. Our breathing picks up as we both start reaching our peak. Ethan grabs the back of one of my legs, and wraps it higher up around his back, to get better access to me. At this angle, he reaches the perfect spot and I scream as he rams into me. Confirming he picked the right position; he mercilessly thrusts himself into me repeatedly. I feel all my muscles contract as the pleasure builds up and I have no warning when my orgasm rips through me in an explosion of colors and sensations. I scream his name which lets him know I have reached my peak; it takes him a few more thrusts before he lets his take over, moaning alongside me as he continues to move with me. I feel it when he cums, the warmth inside of me bringing us both to a stop. Breathing heavily, his eyes widen.
“Fuck. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I was going to pull o-”
“I’m on the pill,” I say quickly, to stop his apologies. He lets out a sigh of relief and then falls on me from exhaustion. We stay like that for a few minutes, sharing heavy breaths and silence. Finally, he moves to take the weight of his body off me, laying on his side, but then grabs at my hip to pull me into him, putting us face to face.
Our eyes meet and I cannot for the life of me know what he is thinking, but I know that all I feel is love. I’m afraid of admitting it. We’ve been doing this playful back and forth for 5 months now. But for one reason or another, we never had sex before. I didn’t want to ruin what we had so far. I know I’ve been freaking out about wanting us to be more for the past few weeks, but in this moment after what we just shared, I was okay with waiting until his life was less chaotic. It was selfish of me to be thinking about my needs and not his. He’s a person too.
He runs a finger over my bottom lip, which pulls me from my thoughts. He is looking at me with the sweetest, most tender look I’ve ever seen on him, and my heartbeat picks up at the sight of it.
“Ethan,” I find myself saying his name, though I don’t know what I want to say. His finger leaves my lips and falls on my shoulder. He trails down my arm until he reaches my hand. His fingers now play with mine, but his eyes are still on me, with the same emotion in them.
“I fucked up,” he finally speaks.
I frown at this, my mind quickly going to worst case scenario; he regrets having sex with me. The look on my face must have told him something because he quickly corrects himself.
“Not with this. No, this was… amazing. You are amazing,” he explains. The tightness in my chest lightens.
I wait for him to continue but can see him struggling to put it into words.
“You can tell me anything.” Is all I say.
This visibly calmed him down and the anxiousness seemed to ebb away. He smiles warmly at me, making my heart skip a beat in the process.
“Okay. So. I may, possibly, probably, more than likely have,” he pauses his rambling, lets out a shaky breath, then speaks again.
 “I think I caught feelings for you.”
To be continued…
__________________________
A/N: I am feeling all kinds of way now. Wow. Okay. I might end it here? I'm afraid if I keep going I might ruin it. What do you all think though? Should I do one last part or leave it as is? As always, thanks for reading!🧡
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ghouljams · 9 months
Text
Cowboy!Soap picks up a barn cat, or something like one...
We’re taking a break from the Fae for a bit so I can write cowboys. Oc talk is still open! But my inbox is all fae!Price and it was making me a little sad for the cowboys. I miss my favorite boys :’(
You’re having an exceedingly difficult time avoiding one Sergeant MacTavish. It feels like he’s everywhere. You duck behind a shelf in the grocery store, clutching an armful of canned goods close to your chest. Somewhere around here your roommate has the cart, and you can’t reach your phone to send out an SOS. There’s no way you can wander aimlessly to look for them either without Soap catching you. Soap, Soap, Soap, you’re trying to drill the nickname into your head. Anything but Johnny, not when saying it makes him look at you like- Soap, you are calling him Soap from now on and that’s final.
No! You’re not calling him anything! You’re not thinking about him, you’re not talking to him, you’re certainly not calling him, and you’re not hiding from him. This is just a man goddammit, you can handle men. Hell, you’ve never met a man that wasn’t more scared of you than you were of him. So there’s no reason to- You peak out of the aisle to check if the coast is clear.
“What’re we hiding from?” Soap whispers behind you. You jump and spin to face him, doing your best to calm your heart down from the startle response. You didn’t even hear him coming.
“I’m not hiding from anything,” You lie. Soap raises a brow with a smile that says he doesn’t buy it for a second. He looks around you and out at the rest of the store.
“You see an ex-boyfriend or something? Want me to pretend we’re a thing, make him jealous?” He sounds far too eager at the prospect.
“I’m a nun,” You sternly remind him, “and again, not hiding.”
“Too bad,” He hums. You’ve noticed Soap has a habit of standing close, especially when you have nowhere to go to get away from him. You’re crowded against the store shelf, close enough you can smell the sweat on his skin. You can see the start of a sunburn on his cheeks, your fingers itch to feel if the back of his neck is warm. He needs a hat if he’s going to be out in the sun all day, something to make him look like a proper cowboy. You’re starting to notice his smile getting bigger, you wonder what that’s about.
“What?”
“Nothin’ just wondering if all nuns stare as much as you lot do.” You blink up at his shit eating grin, you refuse to give him the satisfaction of looking away. You’re not sure if that’s the right call, with how happy he seems to have you staring.
“Did you steal my keys?” You change the subject, unwilling to entertain his flirting. You’re not flirting. Soap, Soap, Soap, you drill again.
“Might’ve picked them up, was wondering why they weren’t workin’.” He tugs your keys from his pocket and holds them up in front of you. You eye the keys, wondering if he’s been carrying them around in the hopes of striking up a conversation since he stole them. It’s sort of annoying that he seems to have a brain in that pretty head of his. 
“Stealing is a sin you know,” You narrow your eyes at him. Somehow the nun angle never seems to work on him, maybe you just haven’t found the right button. Usually you can send overly friendly men running with a few careful words about sin or the lord.
“Then it’s a good thing I found you,” Soap shifts his weight, leaning closer with the movement, “think you can help absolve me?” His voice is low and deep, the warmth of him seems to seep into you over the chill of the store’s a/c.
“You’re lucky I have my hands full,” You threaten, shifting the cans in your arms. You wonder if it’ll be terribly noisy just to drop them, grab your keys, maybe smack Soap for good measure…
He shakes his head, tongue darting to wet his lips before his teeth catch on his smile, “Why d’you think I’m talkin’ to ya’, bonnie?”
Something small and shivery rushes down your spine knowing he’s purposefully trapped you. Cocksure bastard, thinking he can get the upper hand on you. Actually maybe you’re more angry it’s worked so well, kept you talking to him so long. You sidestep out from under his shadow and turn away from him to find your roommate. You’re sure they must be wondering where you are. It’s more than a little annoying to hear Soap following you.
“Don’t you have anyone else to annoy?” You grit out, not bothering to look over your shoulder when you can feel him close by.
“Not for another hour,” He hums. You can hear him spinning your keys between his fingers as you glance down aisles. It’s not a huge store, it shouldn't be this hard to find the only other nun in here. “You collecting for a can drive?” John- Soap asks.
“I’m setting up a free pantry.” You spot your roommate and start down the aisle trying to catch their attention.
“Thought you said you were mean,” You can almost feel the smug expression on his stupid face. You clench your jaw, hoping the ache of it will be enough to make you shut up. Do not rise to his bait.
“I am mean.” God Dammit.
“I can tell.”
Your roommate finally spots you and maneuvers the cart close enough you can drop your canned goods in. They smile brightly at Soap. You turn and try to swipe your keys from him. He holds them up out of your reach. You don’t bother humiliating yourself trying to jump for them, choosing instead to balk at the absolutely childish behavior as Soap greets your roommate.
“Hot out,” He says, as if he could just be making polite conversation. You turn to look at your roommate, give them a wide eyed shake of your head, warning them not to engage.
“Yeah it’s-” They give you a confused look before turning their attention to Soap, “-pretty hot, but what do you expect this time of year?”
“Don’t know how you’re runnin’ around in black, ah ken hardly step outside wi’out sweatin’.” Your roommate actually laughs. Betrayal. You are going to make them pay for this later.
“It’s not too bad, the skirts are actually shorter for the summer, lighter too.” They lift their skirt a little to show the difference in length. You’re sure a half intelligent man would know normal nuns don’t really have uniform adjustments.
“That so?” Soap almost sounds interested. You’re not particularly a fan of being ignored. Soap tips his head to look at your kit, and you take the opportunity to stomp on his foot. Instead of… whatever you’d been hoping for as a reaction, his arm hooks around your waist tight and lifts you out of stomping distance. You waste no time kicking up a fuss in his hold.
“Let go,” You kick your legs, try to elbow him somewhere that’ll hurt, “Put me down Johnny I’m warning you.”
“Ah told ya lass, bigger an’ meaner than you have tried to scare me off,” His voice purrs in your ear making your breath hitch, “Ya gotta try harder than givin’ me a little attitude.”
“Attitude!?” You yell. Attitude? You’re a grown ass- You haven’t had someone tell you not to give them attitude since you lived with your parents! Where the hell does he get off?
“So you got somethin’ heavier for the winter then?” Johnny asks, as if you aren’t still struggling against his hold. Your roommate gives you a look of almost concern, almost pity.
“No,” they say slowly, assessing the situation and deeming it not an immediate problem, “No it doesn’t get too cold in these parts, so we don’t need anything too heavy.”
“You fucking traitor,” You hiss at them, trying to aim for Johnny’s shins. Surprisingly it doesn’t work too well. You wonder if he’s made of stone or if you even were hitting him hard enough to hurt.
“Be nice to your friend,” He tells you.
“Eat shit.” You attempt to elbow him in his stupid pretty face. 
“This is actually pretty par for them,” Your roommate tells him. You can feel Johnny hum against your back. It makes you freeze, you don’t know how you didn’t realize the wall against your back was just him. Solid unyielding muscle keeping you pinned.
“They get picked up often?” You can feel the rumble of his voice, it sends chills over your skin. Your fingers are tight on his arm, just holding, where you’d previously been trying to pry yourself loose. Blood is rushing in your ears. God he’s holding you with just a single powerful arm and you can’t even hear a strain in his voice. 
“Fuck no,” You roommate snorts, “S’like pickin’ up a feral cat.”
Johnny hums, and you feel yourself blink slowly against the heat blooming on your cheeks as he speaks in your ear again, “Doesn’t seem so bad ta me.”
“Please put me down,” You try a more diplomatic approach. You’re starting to worry if he holds onto you any longer he might try to walk out with you.
“Good girl,” He whispers and you have to work to suppress the shudder it sends through you as he finally puts you back on the ground. You move over to your roommate as quickly as you can without looking like you’re running from the man that just set you down.
“We’ll see you later Soap,” Your roommate says with a smile, “We could always use more help in the garden.”
“Just tell me when and I’ll be there,” Johnny tosses you your keys, and you fumble to catch them, “Always a pleasure seein’ you Moon.” You’re sure for him it is, you’re trying to hold on to other opinions. You let your roommate steer you both away.
“You called him Johnny again,” They remind you oh so kindly.
“When?”
“Pretty much as soon as he picked you up.”
“Shit,” You swear, “That’s bad.”
“It’s pretty bad,” They agree. You’re sure that’ll come back and bite you in the ass later.
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shady-tavern · 9 months
Text
A Dash of Villainy within a Hero, Part Two
Part One can be found here. Warnings ahead for murder and mentioned/implied though not graphic torture, mind manipulation and human experiments. Please take care of yourselves.
***
'I know a place' Madness had said after Song had landed, dropping him first and keeping her wings slightly flared after touching down with you, keeping a wary eye on him. You knew the only reason she didn't protest his presence was her trust in you. She trusted that you had a reason for this.
So you had followed Madness with careful caution, for there was no way either of you would lead him to your little hideout for the conversation you all wanted to have.
And, well, considering the glimpses of what you had gotten this night, it looked like you would need allies. You had no idea if villain allies were the way to go, but in this instance it might be something to consider.
Madness led you through a complicated route after sending a text and receiving one in return. The old house he ended up stopping in front was most likely a safehouse that he was going to burn after bringing Song and you here.
To your surprise, there was already someone waiting inside. A kid, sixteen at most and once they opened their mouth and said, "Hey!" you immediately recognized Doctor.
You felt Song tense at your back, heard the ruffle of her wings. Song had always had a massive soft spot for kids and even you had to admit that it unsettled you whenever underage villains or heroes showed up. The latter at least were put into training and were sent out with mentors until they were eighteen, but villain kids seemed to have fewer protections.
You glanced at Madness and noticed the way he watched you and Song from the corner of his eye, the angle of his body. He was ready to protect the kid, no matter what and somehow that made you feel a little bit better.
You were suddenly glad that Doctor was largely known for breaking in and stealing or destroying things and less for going up against heroes the way Madness did. The thought of having attacked a kid made you feel vaguely ill.
"So, I heard you know about Phoenix Project now," Doctor said, casting a quick glance at Madness, their shoulders relaxing a tad at whatever they saw on his face.
"Someone tried to kidnap me last night," Song answered. "Do you know anything about that?"
Doctor glanced at Madness again, a silent conversation taking place that ended with Madness sighing and Doctor looking smugly happy.
"Possibly," Doctor said and reached over the counter of the kitchen island and produced a laptop. They opened it, tapping away with quick fingers and then held it out.
Song and you stepped forward, you taking the laptop while Song leaned a bit onto your back, one wing coming up to curl against you as she looked over your shoulder.
"We don't know a whole lot yet," Doctor said, voice quieter than before and you still tracked Madness from the corner of your eye as he came to stand beside the kid. 
His eyes were a slightly darker violet when you glanced up. He was trusting you around Doctor about as much as you trusted him around Song, it seemed.
Then you focused on what was on the laptop and the more you read, the grimmer you grew. Doctor and Madness had created a chart, heroes retiring without ever being seen again, or dying with no proper proof of their death. They had even dug up a few caskets, only to find them empty.
And then they had stumbled across the term Phoenix Project and had traced it back to The Defenders. Where you had most likely run into Madness after he had broken in.
And now you had the name of someone involved in whatever the project was, one of your higher ups.
"Why do you care?" Song asked, looking up while you studied the chart again. There were more heroes they considered 'missing' rather than dead than you had thought.
Doctor was silent for a long moment, then sighed heavily. "My older brother," they said quietly. "He was a hero and one day a year ago we got a call, that he died in the field. It was a closed casket funeral because of how mangled and burnt he supposedly was."
You glanced up and the kid looked angry and grieving and mulish. "I believed it at first," they continued. "But I kept thinking that something was off. When I asked his teammate, Quake, he was super evasive. And, uh, maybe one night I got super drunk and decided to dig him up. To see for myself that he was really gone. But his casket was empty."
Quake. It seemed he was another person you should chat with. You pulled out your phone after handing the laptop to a very quiet Song, showing Doctor and Madness the photos you had taken, catching them up on what you and Song knew.
Song glanced at you. "Guess who knows where Quake lives," she said and you found yourself grinning. It was not a nice grin.
"How about we extend our truce?" Madness offered and when you looked up, he had a smile on his face that looked the way your grin must have. "I bet my powers come in handy for interrogations."
As would yours. Song glanced between you and Madness and you could tell that she was imagining the sort of 'questioning' you two would create. She knew that you would not hesitate to hurt Quake in order to get your answers. 
You weren't as much of a good person as Song was. After what he had intended to do, what he had already done to Song, you absolutely were vindictive. A part of you hoped he would resist interrogation.
"If we do this," Song said quietly, "We may never be able to be heroes again."
"And if we do nothing and they catch up with us, I am dead and you will get dragged off to whatever and wherever this Phoenix Project is," you answered and she grimaced but didn't argue.
"Alright," Song said after a moment of silence, her voice grim. "I'll lead the way."
*.*.*
Quake was visibly agitated. He was pacing and continuously calling someone. Dawn was only just starting to break and despite this being a very long night, you were too wired to feel tired.
Whoever Quake wanted to contact, he clearly wasn't getting through.
Crouching side by side with Madness was...quite frankly, it was very weird. There was no way you trusted him, nor did you stop tracking his movements from the corner of your eye. It was best to be cautious, especially with someone who could mess with your mind at the drop of a hat.
"I can send him to sleep," Madness whispered and when you glanced at him, one brow raised, he shrugged. "My powers can do more than drive people to temporary insanity."
"Never would have guessed," you muttered and at his unimpressed look, you gestured for him to go ahead.
Madness moved cat-quiet, lowering himself from the ledge of the building to set down on the balcony across from Quake's home. You felt the hum of his power in the air, as did Quake, but he reacted too late. Most people reacted too late, and even then all one could do was try to run to escape from Madness' range.
Quake's eyes rolled back and he dropped limp to the floor. You felt Song's hand grip the back of your jacket and a moment later you were airborne. She dropped you onto Quake's balcony and landed, shifting her wing to the side to make space for Madness to leap across.
Breaking into the apartment was easy and it looked exactly like the sort of place a hero like Quake could afford. Until you looked closer and you saw that everything around you was expensive and new. 
From his fridge to his dishwasher, shiny marble countertops and solid wood furniture, things had been paid for with the sort of money Quake shouldn't have.
Little rat.
You dragged Quake away from the windows to his bedroom, where Madness pulled the curtain closed beforehand and Song took up a sentinel position.
"Alright, ready?" Madness asked as soon as Quake was tied to a chair and you gave him a nod. A moment later, Quake woke with a ragged gasp. He was, unsurprisingly, not pleased.
"Traitor," he hissed at you and you couldn't help but bark out a sharp, incredulous laugh.
"Pot, meet kettle," you said with a grin that was more a baring of teeth. "Tell me, how soon after Nightingale's disappearance would you have found a way to murder me?"
Quake grit his teeth but mulishly kept his mouth shut. "Madness," you said with such artificial sweetness your voice rivaled overly sweet, artificially colorful candy. "Would you like the honors?"
"My, I thought you would never ask," Madness answered with that same sort of over-the-top sugary sweet voice. "With pleasure."
He reached out a hand and you felt dark satisfaction at seeing Quake's eyes grow wide in fear. You shoved some of his balled up socks into his mouth just in time to muffle his howling.
Madness eased up after a moment and Quake was panting, his face having rapidly grown damp with sweat. He spat out his socks, shivering and gasping and his eyes were darting from side to side wildly.
From witness accounts you knew, while people didn't remember whatever Madness had put into their heads, the intense fear lingered. It faded within a half an hour, leaving them confused and vaguely unsettled, but nothing else.
"Now," you said and snapped your fingers together, creating brief sparks. "Wanna talk or do I get to play too?"
Quake swallowed harshly and audibly and you saw the exact moment he caved, the panicked hopelessness that gave way to grim resignation. Pity, you really would have loved to hurt him a bit for what he had done to Song.
"I'll tell you what I know," he grit out and you clapped your hands together, smiling brightly.
"How lovely, but do be truthful or my new friend here is going to have another jaunt in your gray matter."
Madness shifted his stance to something smugly satisfied, looking for all the world like a relaxed big cat after a successful hunt. "Indeed. Now, what do you know about the Phoenix Project?"
Quake swallowed again and seemed to want to resist just a little anyway – hero pride, you didn't blame him for that – before he caved, "I know they want heroes for it. The occasional villain too." He shrugged. "It's not really like the public can check the prison records."
You hadn't even thought about how unexpectedly...vulnerable captured villains could be. Considering the way a muscle in Madness's cheek jumped, neither had he.
"Who is involved?" Madness asked and Quake wet his lips.
"I don't know." He saw you lift your hand and Madness' eyes grew dark and hurriedly added, "I'm serious. I get a burner phone and laptop when I'm supposed to get them a hero or a villain."
"Who introduced you to them?" you asked and Quake looked away.
"I...might have done some illegal things," he said, shoulders hunching a bit. "And whoever 'they' are, they found out. I had a package delivered home, with copies of their evidence and demands to do what they wanted or I could kiss my job and reputation goodbye."
"And people like you dare to call themselves heroes," Madness sneered and you couldn't help but agree. What a selfish coward.
Quake gave up the rest of the information willingly. He told you which devices the information was on, that he had tried to gather as much blackmail as he could in return. He told you the passwords for all of his things and at last, Madness reached out and touched his forehead.
Quake went limp, staring dully into nothing, his breathing slow and even.
"Don't ask what I did," Madness said without looking at you. "And don't say he didn't deserve it."
You could take an educated guess on what he might have done, considering Quake's catatonic, empty eyed state. You shrugged. "I won't complain." Madness looked at you, surprise openly visible on his face.
You held his gaze. "Don't think you're the only vindictive one, Madness. He hurt my friend and tried to kill me and he has done so to other heroes in the past. Leave him trapped in nightmares for eternity for all I care."
As you left to join Song in the living room and start collecting Quake's things, you felt Madness' gaze on your back. Weirdly enough, the hostile air from before was gone.
Instead, he seemed almost...thoughtful.
*.*.*
Madness was infuriating and maddening and brilliant and you had to admit, after weeks of working together to uncover more about Phoenix Project, he was, maybe, possibly, perhaps growing on you. Like stinky fungus.
You could admit that you were grateful to him and Doctor. Thanks to the two villains Song and you had an actually safe place to hide in without going mad in the process. They offered protection as well, more than Song and you would have had on your own.
And tonight, at long last, you had a chance to get your hands at your former superior. Both Song and you had been declared rogues and to be captured upon sight for questioning. 
Song, sadly, had a hard time going anywhere incognito, her wings were a dead giveaway, so she was staying in the hideout a lot. It wasn't easy on her, but Doctor had found an old factory, a place with incredibly high ceilings so she could at least fly around and train.
Which meant you were teaming up with Madness in the meantime.
You once again crouched at the ledge of a building and watched the woman you were after leave her car, her butler opening the door to her mansion for her. The very same mansion you were already crouching on, ready to strike.
"Pretentious," you muttered, just as Madness whispered, "Tacky."
You didn't look at him, but you felt a smile tug at the corners of your mouth. It was perhaps softer than the usual sharp, toothy smiles that you aimed his way.
"Let's go," you whispered and got up, Madness following you.
With your powers it was easy enough to disable the lock on the rooftop door and slip inside. Madness took care of all the guards, though he was far gentler with the maid and butler, who he caught after putting them into a dreamless sleep for the next hour or so.
And then you were back to the fun part: questioning assholes.
The woman, a hero who had retired early and had made a ridiculous amount of money by taking a top-notch position in The Defenders, blustered and threatened but caved almost just as quickly as Quake head.
One of these days you'd have to ask Madness what exactly he was putting into people's heads.
This time, at least, you got some zaps in before the former hero, Paralytica, gave up. She had far, far more information than Quake and while it took some more persuading in-between the questions, you at last got names. You got names and you got a place.
"You won't get away with this," Paralytica snarled, sweating and panting and trembling slightly in the chair she was tied to. 
You sent all the information on her computer to Doctor, who would make sure nothing could be traced back to them. Her gaze burned into your side. "I will have you hunted down like the mangy dog you are."
Before you could so much as roll your eyes, Madness had gripped her head, making her flinch and go very still, her eyes wide. "And yet, somehow, this 'mangy dog' is worth more than all of you combined." Madness' eyes were a dark violet when they met your surprised gaze. "I might even start believing in heroes again."
You looked away, a near overwhelming mixture of emotions rising within you at his words. You felt touched and all soft and gooey-sweet inside and at the same time, you wanted to bluster and curse at him. Stupid asshole, what was his deal, saying nice things out of nowhere? That wasn't what you did, you sniped and argued and verbally elbow-checked each other. Not whatever...whatever this was.
"We're done here," you said just as the door was kicked down and previously silent heroes rushed in.
Paralytica had just one second of smirking in ugly triumph, before Madness' eyes turned almost black, his grip on her head tightening. She went limp, staring into nothing like Quake had, while the two of you sprung into hurried movement.
Madness wanted to fight, but when you hauled ass for the window, to your surprise, he followed instead of going on the offense. You jumped first, arms raised to protect your face, while he tossed out his powers, sending the all but one of the heroes to their knees with screeching, blood curdling screams.
You landed on soft grass, surrounded by glass shards and looking up just as Madness was forced to topple backwards out the window by a powerful, telekinetic wave. Huh. The Defenders had dug out one of ten people capable of withstanding Madness' powers it seemed. 
You didn't even think about it as you took a step forward, arms rising and you grunted as you caught him. He wasn't too heavy thankfully, especially since you were used to lugging Song's weight around in training.
His eyes were wide in surprise and the next moment you tightened your grip and zipped away with him. You were faster than Madness, even with his added weight. You were among the top ten fastest heroes currently employed in The Defenders and it really came in handy right now. 
Or well, formerly employed, you were pretty sure after today at the latest your fellow heroes would no longer consider you one of them.
The moment you were far enough from the mansion, you set Madness down, clapping him on the shoulder, "Let's scram."
You felt his gaze on your back again, staring and strangely heated.
*.*.*
You winced when you heard something break, exchanging a look with Song. Doctor wanted to come to the location where the Phoenix Project was supposedly taking place, while Madness was very much not in agreement. They were arguing very loudly and intensely.
"I'm not letting you risk your life!" Madness shouted.
"That is not your decision!" Doctor screamed back. "This is about my brother, you fucking asshole. I know you don't care, but I sure as shit do -"
"I care about you," Madness snapped back, Doctor falling silent. In a forcibly calmer voice, Madness continued, "I want you to have a life, to actually get to enjoy having your brother back. He'll need you. Whatever they've done to him in that hellhole, he's not going to be alright."
"If he's alive at all." You could barely heard Doctor's voice now. "And he'll be so disappointed in me. He always said I could do so much good with my brain."
"And you will," Madness said, voice as unyielding as the ocean tide. "Look at all your inventions, at all the good you will do for the medical field once you are ready. He can't blame you for taking what routes you had available in order to find him. Just let me go in and help me from the outside, like usual. Alright?"
"But what if something happens to you?" Doctor's voice was unexpectedly small. "I don't have anyone else, you know? No one else listened to some scrawny kid, especially not a dead hero's sibling."
"I'm not alone," Madness said and you felt a jolt at surprise at his words. You hadn't expected that he'd believe Song and you would watch his back. And you would protect him, you owed the infuriating man that much at least. "I'll have someone at my side and you for backup."
Doctor huffed a soft sound that was almost a laugh. "I thought heroes were pretentious bullshit people selling a long dead dream?"
"Most of them are. But...maybe there are one or two that are alright," Madness said and his voice had gone a little softer around the edges in a way that did funny things to your insides. 
Oh. ...oh fuck no.
When you glanced at Song, feeling slightly panicky, she blinked, then snorted. "Finally figured it out, huh?"
You made a face at her, she made one right back and you gladly hopped upon the distraction. That was how Doctor and Madness found you, with your tongue sticking out at Song, who was wriggling her fingers at you beside her temples.
"Children," Madness said with a mock-heavy voice. "I am surrounded by children."
"And I am surrounded by idiots, but what else is new," Doctor shot back and before you knew it, you were laughing.
It was a mixture of stress release, nervous realization about feelings and giddy anticipation for the upcoming infiltration. Along with the simple fact that Doctor was right, they were incredibly smart. 
It had also been a while since you had last laughed like this and Song's smile turned warm, one of her wings extending to curl around your shoulders.
To your surprise, even Madness seemed to soften, a little smile playing in the corners of his mouth that had no right to look this cute. You forcibly shook the thought away. You had no reason to look at a villain and consider him cute. That would only end in disaster. Any of these newly realized, far too soft and squishy feelings would only end in disaster.
Heroes and villains didn't work out, that was a song as old as time.
"So," Song said, removing her wing to shake them both out. "What's the plan?"
The plan wasn't overly complicated. None of you were under any illusions about this. You didn't have the forces to storm the old prison the Phoenix Project was in, but you could infiltrate the place, set as many if not all of the captives free and gather enough information to present a case to fellow villains and heroes respectively.
The Defenders itself wasn't involved in the whole thing, but enough people in high positions along with a good handful of heroes were corrupt to cause problems. You would need a lot of good, hard evidence to convince everyone else of the truth. To make them fight back and clean the rot out of their ranks.
Villains didn't care about the troubles of heroes, but they would not like the thought of getting kidnapped once heroes defeated and imprisoned them either. Most villains were solo fighters and crusaders, but Madness had mentioned that there was a sort of unspoken codex. 
That sometimes, if necessary, all the different people and factions worked together to protect their collective future. And considering that goal of the Phoenix Project was to create synthetic powers or transplant powers, this would be of interest to many.
Who knew what other goals the Phoenix Project had, Paralytica hadn't known everything after all. She had just been interested in making more money.
"Song and I will create chaos," Madness said. "While Doctor's robot and you will infiltrate the building."
"I insulated my little helper well enough that he should be able to withstand your powers to a certain degree," Doctor said when you glanced at them. "And I can make it explode if necessary. It packs quite the punch."
Which was how you found yourself squished into a box in the back of a truck. Doctor had been the one to figure out the deliver routes to the old prison and now you were going to infiltrate the place through the backdoor. With a robot squished in beside you, all hard metal edges that were going to leave some weird looking bruises.
You were meant to wait until chaos broke out and sneak your way further in, hopefully encountering less resistance. No one would look at the delivery ramp when Song and Madness were attacking one of the side entrances. The main entrance would have made it too obvious that they were just the diversion.
The moment the box was set down with a grunt and people complaining how heavy it was, alarm sirens rang out shrilly and shouts were heard muffled through doors.
You waited until you couldn't hear rushing footsteps anymore, before you cracked the top of the crate open and slipped outside. Doctor's robot followed you silently and with surprising smoothness. The kid was really going to revolutionize so many fields once they went public with their inventions.
You had a comparatively easy time slipping inside, knocking out distracted guards as you went. Doctor's sleeping darts helped a lot too, if you couldn't sneak up on people to touch them.
You got a brief glance out the window once to see Song and Madness fighting in tandem, people littering the ground around them. Some were clutching their heads, screaming, others just grew slow and sluggish and then fell asleep the moment they heard Song's lullaby.
They were a nasty team, you had to admit. If Song had turned to villainy instead of heroism and those two had ended up working together, the world of heroics might just have been thoroughly fucked. 
"This way," Doctor hissed through the speaker on the robot, which looked more like some kind of alien dog than humanoid. They had mentioned it had made balancing easier at the time of its creation.
Doctor and you made it up to the main control room, which doubled as an office for the big boss, with relative ease. You cracked open windows along the way to let Song's song in, your special ear plugs – made back when Song and you first started heroing – the only thing currently keeping you safe. 
People inside the building grew ever more sluggish and sleepy, which made it easier to take them out. If they weren't already asleep by the time you snuck past them.
"I'll get the data," Doctor said the moment you knocked out the big boss of the place – a tall, muscular man with a shaved head that had turned a startling, angry red when he had spotted you too late. "You go free the prisoners."
You went to the control panel at the side of the room and started flicking switches. On the monitors cell doors opened with metallic screeching and the first person stepped outside. 
You were horrified to recognize her as Supernova, a famous hero celebrity that had been widely mourned after her death. Even on the slightly grainy feed she looked half skeletal and very, very desperately determined.
You bit back a wince when she immediately tossed out her powers, shredding guards that rushed towards her with a miniature black hole. Supernova had never killed before, if anything she had been so very careful to never hurt anyone with her destructive powers. She staggered and sagged, only to be caught by a villain who had rushed out of the neighboring cell. 
You recognized that one too. Their name was Sun and they pulled one of Supernova's arms over their shoulders, slamming a foot against the ground and making it erupt with intense enough fire and heat that you heard people scream somewhere outside the camera focus.
More and more heroes and villains left their cells, all working together to break out. To help each other escape. Not a single one was left behind. It seemed you wouldn't have to tear the place down later after all, not much would be left standing in the aftermath of their escape. Good.
"My brother?" Doctor asked, sounding half focused and half desperate.
"I haven't seen him in the cells," you answered and you heard the click-clack of the keyboard grow faster.
"Found him!" Doctor half shouted. "He's currently in one of the examination rooms."
"I'll go get him," you said. "You focus on downloading everything."
"Understood," Doctor's robot looked up briefly, the single camera lens visibly focusing on you. "Please, be careful."
You threw him a quick salute before you slipped out of the room. The old prison was in such brutal chaos, people running and rushing about, the smart ones even running away, that you had it laughably easy.
The examination rooms were half filled with doctors and a handful of heroes and villains when you arrived. The electronic doors were locked and the doctors looked tense but vaguely, grimly victorious at the same time. They considered themselves safe, behind these thick, reinforced doors that could withstand a lot of superpowers.
But this was where your powers really came in handy, because they could not keep you out if you fried their pretty little mechanical doors to death.
Those doors always clicked open when they were overloaded, a safety mechanism to avoid locking people in, in case of emergencies. They had to be able to leave if they wanted to after all. You made quick work of the doctors, most which had no powers at all.
The second you had knocked out the first set of doctors and freed two of the people on the tables, they threw themselves into the fight alongside you. They didn't have much stamina anymore, but they were fierce, bringing with them a brutality born out of a soul-deep desperation to finally make it out. They knew this might very well be their only chance to escape.
You found Doctor's brother last, he was unconscious and looked rather awful. Scarred and thin and visibly exhausted even as he laid there limply. You pulled the needle out of his arm – it was most likely feeding him sedatives – and threw him over your shoulder.
"Everyone out," you shouted just as the last doctor fell after a big, burly woman had grabbed his head and slammed it hard enough against the wall that you knew this man was never going to get up again.
In all honesty, you did not care, there was even a part of you that felt quietly and darkly vindictive. If anyone asked you, those people had gotten their just desserts – if anything, they deserved worse.
As you led the group of limping, swaying people up the stairs, most of them supporting each other to keep going, acrid and thick smells filled the air. Smoke and acid and ozone, along with something that tasted metallic on your tongue.
You made it past people half dissolved in acid, past scorch marks and walls that looked like they had turned liquid and pierced inward, impaling guards, before turning solid again.
Doctor's robot slid up to your side as you rushed towards the delivery hangar and you heard his audible gasp as he saw his brother across your shoulder.
You heard more gasps and even a sob as you broke out the door and into sunlight. There was an audible fight still going on elsewhere, so you entrusted Doctor's brother to his robot and told the group to follow them. They'd be led to safety.
When you joined the main fight, it was a brutal showdown between the fighting forces of the old prison, along with some suit and ties that had shown up and the banded together heroes and villains.
Most of them were no longer capable of battle however, swaying in place and some were already crumpled on the floor. Song had stopped her lullaby and was now swooping in and out of the rows of enemies, knocking people over, while Madness extended his powers further.
When you reached his side, he was out of breath and sweat was rolling down his chin.
"We're ready to leave," you told him and he grinned briefly, an expression of such fierce, relieved victory that you could only grin back. "Don't hit me with your shit."
With those words you threw yourself into the fray, dodging around the guards to square up with the three suit and ties, for they had brought rather strong powers with them. If you could take them out, everyone could get away with little trouble.
They were nasty pieces of work, forcing you to duck below blades thrown by telekinesis – and the bodies of some of the guards – as well as dodge conjured vines that wanted to tie you down.
One vine snapped around your arm, ready to fling you back and you grit your teeth against the pain as you threw yourself forward. You heard a bone crunch before you felt the pain, a dagger slicing past your cheek, another finding the meat of your thigh.
But now you were right in front of them and they clearly had no idea who you were outside of your hero costume, for they did not dodge back. Their eyes grew wide in realization when the one with the vine powers crumbled at a single touch and now they were hurriedly trying to get away.
Which was when Song swooped in from overhead, dropping her full weight on the suit and tie to the left, arching her wings up high to ensure she would not block your path.
Her rapid descending and distraction was all the chance you needed. You slammed the bare palm of your good hand against the woman's nose, who fell like a sack of bricks, daggers clattering to the ground as her limbs twitched slightly.
"Are you alright?" Song asked, wings snapping out to topple two guards that tried to rush in.
"I'll be fine," you said, her gaze already spotting the knife in your leg and your awkwardly held arm. A heavy wave of power in the air caused the rest of the guards to scream, all of them dropping their weapons, half of them running away, the other half clawing at their own skin.
You'd really have to ask Madness about the details on his powers one of these days. Song gripped you around the waist and with a quick hop and flap of her wings, brought you back to Madness and the rescued heroes and villains.
Madness' face grew tense and pinched when he saw you, eyes briefly turning black, before he exhaled roughly and focused on getting everyone up and moving.
At least the escape part was easy enough with the old prison utterly disabled. It was in a remote location, so no one had to worry about outside help arriving. Not that anyone in that cursed place would have called The Defenders for help, they wouldn't want the scrutiny after all.
You got first aid treatment by none other than Madness. His hands were surprisingly gentle, while Song pointed out all the cars around the place, getting the rescued heroes and villains organized. 
They were soon ready to head to a pre-prepared place to group up and decide what they wanted to do. They would need proper medical treatment soon though, that was for sure.
You drove back with Madness and Supernova and Sun, the two considered-dead people conked out on the backseat, while Song flew overhead to watch for danger. She wouldn't have fit in the car anyway, not with passengers and her large wings.
"Get some rest," Madness said after a couple of minutes of silence. "If you think you can sleep around a villain."
You snorted and closed your eyes. The pain meds you had gotten were really starting to kick in. "I let you at my injuries, didn't I? And I think our truce can extend until we're all ready to go home."
Madness just hummed quietly. "Could be more than a truce," he muttered, but by then you were already slipping off to sleep, so you weren't sure if you imagined it or not.
*.*.*
The Phoenix Project made headlines everywhere. Doctor had made sure this horror story could not and would not be kept secret by anyone who wanted to keep heroes from looking bad.
The Defenders had a lot of hard work ahead of them, convincing the public that they were still trustworthy, that arrested people would not disappear without a trace again. That the heroes they employed could not be bribed too.
Song and you, meanwhile, were lauded as heroes. As in, a different kind of heroes. The kind that, well, that heroes were meant to be. Saviors, defenders of the weak. People who did the right thing, no matter who else was against them.
It was weird, was what it was. Song and you picked a new apartment with the help of Doctor, who made sure no word of its location got out. The kid had contacted you a couple of days after everything started blowing up, letting you know that they were hanging up the villain mantle.
They wanted to go back to school instead and take care of their brother. Though, they had mentioned that Madness was helping them get allies so that, when they did decide to present their inventions to the public in a year or two, no one would take advantage of them.
Madness had gone quiet and you were absolutely not thinking about that one frigging bit. He was a villain, you were a hero and your truce was over. You'd go back to the regularly scheduled program soon enough.
"Don't look so sour," Song said as she fixed her dress, turning once to show off the way it swirled and sparkled. Her wings were freshly groomed and shone beautifully in the overhead light. "How do I look?"
"Drop dead gorgeous," you answered honestly. "If people don't lay themselves at your feet so you can step on them, I will be sorely disappointed."
She laughed, reaching over to haul you into a tight hug, her wings encircling you. You hugged her back, some tension leeching out of you.
"Let's have a good night, alright?" Song said. "We deserve that much after all that we've been through."
"It's a party in our honor, it's going to be weird," you said and Song snorted.
"It's a party to celebrate the survivors. And maybe us, a little bit." She pulled back to grin down at you. "But what this really means is that we get to eat all the cute little fingerfood and if anyone looks at us weirdly, we just remind them that we were the ones to save the day."
You couldn't help but laugh, giving her arms a pat. "Alright, you win. But if I get tired, I'll just go home."
"Let me know and I'll go with you," Song offered. "We can put in one of the movies that came out while we were in hiding. I'll go make drinks and you make popcorn and we kick back for the rest of the night."
That actually sounded preferable to the party, but you had already agreed to show up. And, as Song said, the fingerfood was amazing. To die for, really.
The party was, indeed, a little bit of a stiff affair. Or rather, it was meant to present a united front to the press, show forgiveness on the side of the survivors and it allowed people to network.
You spoke with a couple of the rescued heroes that had shown up, Supernova frowning heavily and looking ready to bolt. You didn't mention the sun necklace she was wearing and fiddling with like it was a good luck pendant.
"Hey," a familiar, cheerful voice chirped behind you, just as you gathered as much fingerfood as your plate could hold. The server meanwhile looked on in horrified awe.
Surprised you turned around to see Doctor with their older brother. The brother looked miles better since you had last seen him. While he was still a bit gaunt, he had lost much of his thinness and his smile was sweet and charming, if a bit tired. 
His scars had faded a bit too, clearly the work of some great medical care. You wouldn't be surprised if Doctor played a part in that.
"My little sibling said I have you to thank for freeing me," he said and held out his hand. You quickly handed your heavily laden plate to the poor server, shaking his hand and then taking the plate back before any of the precariously stacked fingerfood could tumble to a sad little floor-death.
"No thanks necessary, but I am glad to see you're doing better," you answered, while Doctor stood beside you grinning and swaying back and forth a bit on their feet.
"Oh, I doubt you are as glad as I am," the brother answered, only for the smile to slip and crack like fragile glass. "I thought I was going to die in there," he said quietly and Doctor's cheer vanished instantly. "We all did. And then you guys showed up. You have no idea how grateful we are."
This was making you uncomfortable. "Are you still in contact with the others?"
He gave you a surprisingly sharp look, before relaxing a bit. "Yeah, we meet once a month to talk about things. In there...being a hero or a villain stopped meaning anything." He smiled a sad, shy little smile. "Can't count the amount of times a villain held me while I cried."
He cleared his throat, quickly moving on before you could respond. "But that doesn't matter anymore. Now all that matters is healing and making sure my sibling doesn't drop out of school. Again." The last word was said with a bit of reprimand.
You couldn't help but glance at Doctor, wondering if they had told their brother what they had been up to during his presumed death. Considering the stiff, warning smile Doctor gave you, they had said nothing. Fair enough.
"Are you going to eat all that?" Doctor asked instead, nodding at your full plate. 
"Double if no one stops me," you said, which made both of them chuckle.
"Don't let us keep you, then," the brother said. "And, again, thank you. You're my hero." Well, now you felt too touched for words.
Mumbling something incoherent but vaguely nice sounding, you shuffled off to one of the open balconies to eat your fingerfood in peace. Your position gave you a good look across the large ballroom, where Song was dazzling a group of people with an adoring shine in their eyes. 
She deserved it and considering the brief wink she threw your way, she was making sure to hog all the limelight to give you some peace and quiet. If Song ever wanted the world, you'd damn well fetch it for her.
Your gaze wandered and you nearly choked on a piece of food when you saw Madness of all people brazenly striding towards you.
"How?" you said when he leaned against the balcony railing at your side. "are you here?"
He tapped his temple. "People think I'm Doctor's uncle, they don't see me when they look at me."
...you really had to ask him about his powers in detail one of these days. Well, if he ever properly talked with you instead of going radio silent.
"The brother must know you're no uncle of theirs," you pointed out, instead of asking him why he was talking to you now when he hadn't reached out once since the prison breakout. Since bandaging your leg and putting your arm into a temporary sling.
"He knows who I am," Madness answered. "Doctor said I was the one they reached out to for help. They are hiding what they've been up to, though I think their brother is going to find out soon enough." 
Doctor's little jaunt into villainy was hard to ignore, that was true. You hummed in agreement and you half expected Madness to move on. That he had just come here to say hello and keep you from making a scene.
"Why come talk to me?" you asked when he just...remained. Quiet and steady at your side. "I haven't heard from you in a while."
Madness was silent for a long second, then he took a deep breath and straightened. His shoulders rolled back like he was ready to fight, but he didn't feel dangerous. You were still ready to toss your plate of fingerfood at him as a distraction.
"I tried to forget you," Madness said, his words surprising you enough that you paused. "I thought it was for the best. But I couldn't and when I saw you here today...well, I'm a villain. Taking every chance I can to get the things I want is what I do, isn't it?"
You stared at him, befuddled and you allowed him to, ever so gently, take the plate of food from your hands and put it onto the wide railing of the balcony beside you.
"If I overstep let me know and you'll never hear another word from me," he said and his fingertips brushed your hands, leaving warm tingles behind. "But if there is a chance you are interested in me the way I am in you..."
He trailed off, his pale eyes searching yours, hopeful and hesitant in a way you hadn't really seen him before. He was...he was actually showing vulnerability right now. It made you swallow.
"It would never work," you said, because that was the first thing that always came to your mind when you thought about kissing him or holding his hand. About reaching out to him. "We're on two opposite sides of the law. Maybe it's fun at first, but what afterwards? When we have to keep hiding things, have to clash out there in battle?"
Madness didn't brush you off, growing more serious instead, while the hope in his eyes sparked brighter. "You and I are going to retire one day," he said. "Maybe even soon, our lot rarely grows old in this field of work. And I would refrain from attacking you, no matter what."
"It would be hard to make this work," you pointed out, gesturing between you and him, but considering how his eyes sparked with a challenge accepted, that wasn't a problem. "Are you sure? I thought you didn't like heroes."
"I don't," he agreed easily. "But you're different." He tipped his head slightly to the side. "There is a dash of villain in you, isn't there?"
You could admit that he was right and maybe, there was sometimes a bit more than just a dash. You knew that if Song turned to villainy for some reason – it would be a good reason, knowing her – you'd ultimately end up following her.
"My morals are...flexible, sometimes," you admitted. There was a reason why Song was your anchor and compass, your lodestone. Why her light guided your way and you knew, if someone ever took her from you, you would not stop until that person was dead.
Madness smiled and you liked it. A lot. You liked the way he looked at you, as if you were something amazing. As if he never wanted to look away.
He reached into the pocket of his suit and pulled out a beautiful bracelet. "Doctor made this for me, it blocks my powers." And, just like that, he held it out to you.
"Why trust me like this?" you couldn't help but ask and his answering, crooked smile had no right to be this charming and sweet.
"Because you never used a situation against me," he answered, with an earnest shine in his eyes that made you want to look away, your heart going all soft and vulnerable. "Not when the building collapsed and you had the upper hand, nor any time later when you could have just knocked me out with a touch."
"I don't even know your name," you said. 
When you didn't move to take the bracelet, he took your hand carefully, turning it palm up to press the cold metal against your skin, curling your fingers closed around it. Once you put this on, he wouldn't be able to use his powers against you, not even in defense should you decide to turn on him.
"Then I'll tell you," he said quietly, his free hand coming up, slowly enough for you to pull back. When you didn't, he cupped the side of your face, this thumb brushing gently over your cheek. "And anything else you want to know."
"We'll need as safeword," you blurted out, because this was already getting too important to mess up needlessly. "When we do encounter ourselves or just in general, to make this work." To not hurt each other by being heroes and villains.
"What do you propose?" he asked and you almost said tic-tac-toe, but that was kind of long, wasn't it? Before you could say something, his eye brightened with mirth. "How about checkers?"
You huffed. "I did have you beat in checkers."
He laughed, low and amused and very fond. You were fonder of him yourself than you liked to admit on your good days. "Keep telling yourself that, my villainous hero. Checkers it is. So, what do you say? Want to give me, us, a chance?"
You tightened your grip around the bracelet and leaned your cheek into his palm. His eyes darkened with want and something soft as you allowed him to cradle you. As you allowed him so close to your mind that he could ruin you, could destroy you forever, before you could ever hope to stop him.
"Touch civilians or Nightingale and I will end you," you said, a steel-solid promise uttered in a low, dangerous voice that made a darkly pleased grin appear on his face. He liked you sharp, he liked it when you showed that villainous streak that lurked below the surface. "Alright. Tell me your name, Madness, and then kiss me."
And so he did.
*.*.*
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writingdumpster · 2 years
Text
his wife and nothing more
pairing: Matt Murdock x reader
warnings: suggestive dialogue
word count: 1,200
summary: Matty wants a housewife and no one can convince me otherwise. fluffy.
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Matt had been spending long hours away from home. The difference this time was that he was spending time at the office, not on the street, which meant that he really couldn’t stay home. He didn’t always make his own hours as a lawyer. He had to make a three week trip to Boston for the case he was working on. Tonight he was back in Hell’s Kitchen and he promised you that he would be home by dinner. He knew how much you missed him, and he hated to leave his girl alone. He hated to be without his girl even more.
When he got into the building he could smell your cooking. You were making his favorite. He could hear the sounds of Aretha Franklin on his record player. A dopey smile spread across his face as he clicked the elevator button, feeling blissfully happy now that he was so close to you. He pulled open the door and began slipping off his shoes and placing his glasses on the shelf by the door.
“I’m home, baby,” Matt called as he put down his bag. When he turned around you were wrapping your arms around him and kissing him lovingly, your tongue sliding into his mouth. You pulled away only when your need for air demanded it, taking in a deep breath. Matt chuckled against your lips.
“I missed you,” you purred.
“I can tell,” Matt said with a smile.
“Never leave me for that long again,” you practically whined.
“Come with me next time,” Matt suggested. You let out a dry laugh.
“Miss three weeks of work and still have a job? You’re funny, Murdock,” you said as you tangled your fingers in the hair at the nape of Matt’s neck. His hands slid around your waist so that they rested on your lower back, his fingertips just barely brushing the swell of your ass. The two of you began slowly swaying to the Aretha Franklin record you had playing.
Matt’s head was tilting a bit as he took in every detail of your presence. He could smell your shampoo still lingering from a shower you must’ve taken that morning. Your heart was beating a bit faster than usual, he assumed from the excitement of his arrival. Then he realized that you were wearing his Columbia sweatshirt. His heart ached as he thought about what it would be like to really see you in his clothes. He had almost lost track of the conversation, but his words came out before he could think better of it.
“Then quit,” Matt said as he leaned in, brushing his nose against yours. He surprised himself, but when he heard the thought out loud he knew that he meant it. “I can take care of you.” His heart stopped for a moment as he thought of what it would be like to have you as his wife and nothing more. Completely and totally taken care of, with nothing to worry about at all. You chuckled.
“We aren’t even married,” you pointed out.
“Not yet,” Matt said assuredly. You raised an eyebrow, a smile dancing across your lips.
“All you have to do is ask,” you said, your voice as sweet as syrup. Matt’s heart warmed. He raised a hand to your cheek, running his fingertips along your soft skin and pushing a few loose pieces of hair out of your eyes.
“Not tonight, sweetheart. You deserve a proper proposal,” he said. You smiled.
“I think you already know the answer anyway,” you said. The corner of Matt’s lips tipped upward and he gave you a quick peck.
“But we’ve got to do something about that job of yours…” Matt said. His tone sounded more serious than teasing and you couldn’t tell if he meant what he was saying.
“Are you serious, Matty? You want me to quit?” You asked.
“I want to take care of you,” Matt said. “And if you let me take care of you, we could be together a lot more.”
“You’re serious about this?” You questioned again, needing to be sure. Matt nodded.
“Business has been good lately. I’m making enough for both of us,” Matt said. You were considering his offer when you had a sudden thought.
“What about when we have kids?” You asked. Matt beamed excitedly.
“Are we having kids?” He asked. You blushed.
“I don’t—I mean—I just thought…” You stuttered. You took a pause. “Do you want to?” You asked. Matt gave you a sweet smile.
“Yes, sweetheart. I want to have kids with you,” Matt assured you. He gave your hips a gentle squeeze. “I want to give you a family.”
“Well, I’ll need a job for us to be able to take care of them,” you said.
“No, you don’t.” You raised an eyebrow.
“Matt, if you’re making so much money then why are we still living in this neon lit atrocity of an apartment?” You asked. Matt chuckled.
“I thought you liked it here,” he said. You rolled your eyes.
“I do, but there’s a reason the rent’s so cheap,” you replied.
“I have something worked out. You don’t have to worry that pretty little head, baby,” Matt said.
“What are you talking about?” You asked. Matt paused for a moment, nervous about telling you what he’d done.
“I bought us a townhouse in Astoria,” Matt admitted.
“You bought a house?!” You exclaimed in question. Matt nodded.
“It’s got three bedrooms, we’ll have plenty of room for kids. There’s a fireplace in the living room and a basement that I was gonna renovate so you could have your own space,” he said. You looked at him in awe, taking a moment to process everything he was saying. Matt started getting nervous that you weren’t responding. “If you don’t like it—”
“Can we go see it?” You asked. Matt’s heart lifted. He had been worried that you might be upset for making such a big move without asking you, but he had also wanted to surprise you. He was quite the fan of grand romantic gestures when it came to you. He’d never met anyone like you. He wanted to give you everything and he’d been working harder at his day job to make that dream a reality.
“Not today, the current family’s still living there,” he explained. “In two weeks.” You took a moment and realized just how much Matt loved you, how serious he was about you.
“You bought a house for us,” you said in amazement, your voice just barely a whisper. Matt smiled softly.
“For you, sweetheart. Everything I do is for you,” he whispered back. You leaned up and kissed him tenderly, running your fingers down his chest.
“I love you, Matty. So goddamn much,” you said.
“Language,” he chided. You chuckled. You reached up to rest your arms on his shoulders, linking your fingers together at the nape of his neck.
“Matthew Murdock,” you murmured to yourself. “My good catholic boy. How did I ever get so lucky?”
“I’m the lucky one,” Matt said. You scoffed.
“Yeah, the one who bought the house is the lucky one,” you said. Matt chuckled.
“I was hoping to get lucky tonight too,” he said with a smirk.
“You don’t want your dinner?” You asked.
“I think I can find something else to eat.”
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mx-jinxous · 10 months
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I wanted to get this out last night due to me being busy today with my bday, however I got too sleepy to function. Better late than never. I will try to take everyone to the best of my abilities, but depending on tumblrs restrictions I also have it up on my ao3 here
Chapter 1 l Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 |
The last time he felt this level of unclearness, had been when he beat his keg stand record, followed up with too many shots. He’d been a junior trying to chase popularity and ended up waking up on a stranger's bathroom floor. Safe to say the hangover felt shitty, like a knife tapping the inside of his skull in rhythm with his heartbeat. This was worse.
His body was freezing, which emphasized the aches that plagued his body. If he was honest with himself, he was surprised his body had fought off illness for this long. Not having a balanced diet or a proper shelter was a decent way to get sick and without insurance, he was just going to have to power through it.
A shiver rushed through Steve’s body, and the young man used all his strength to bundle the blanket around him. A hand stopped him when it pressed against his forehead, causing a groan to escape from him. He tried to bat the hand away, another hand pressing his back down by the shoulder. Someone was saying something, but the words were garbled like he was listening from underwater. It made the throbbing in his head worse and weighed down his body. All Steve wanted to do was go back to sleep.
Unfortunately, his visitors decided that that wasn’t on his schedule. He was grounded to alertness by gentle slaps to his cheek. With a growl, he attempted to slap the hand away, only for his wrist to come to a jolted stop. Against his body’s protest, he cracked his eyes open, expecting to see Gray. The man in front of him was far too young to be the security guard.
“Ah, there he is.” The man smirked as he slapped Steve’s cheek again before backing away.
“Careful guard, he is still ill.” A woman’s voice came from beside him, making the young man take in his surroundings.
The room was bland and dated by at least a few centuries, with nothing much for decor aside from a few chairs and a sofa. To be honest he felt like he was in an exhibit at the museum with a lack of character. If that was the case then he was going to be in a world of trouble with his boss.
Fingers snapping in front of his face brought him out of his head. The shaggy-haired man was looking irritated with him like he expected an answer. Steve only stared back, refusing to speak with how shitty he was feeling. Shaggy Man seemed just as stubborn, leading to just both of them staring back one another down. It came to a stalemate when the woman spoke up. “Guard, if you would please state your business. I am in charge of the captive and you are impeding my healing.”
“He does not require healing, not until we receive the answers, which is more important if I should remind you.”
“You can not interrogate a dead man. You are allowed three questions but do not trouble him. He must rest.” The woman seemed to mean it if the shaggy man’s silence was to answer. He glared at Steve, who was done with this conversation and wanted nothing but pain relievers and sleep.
“What is your name?” He rolled his eyes at the guard before directing attention to the doctor. “How did you get into the burial chamber?” His silence only seemed to anger the guard. “Answer now!” He growled, grabbing Steve by the forearm. He pulled his arm into view, pointing at his wrist. “Where did you get this!”
The glimmer of gold was all it took to recall the events of last night, his body filled with fear and anxiety, the young man trying to escape the bed. He was jerked back into place by the restraint on his other wrist, his eyes traveling to what held him captive. It was a cuff chaining him to the bed, keeping him trapped once more, at the mercy of these strangers.
“Focus!” The shaggy man growled, drawing Steve’s attention back to the guard. “How did you get this bracelet?!”
With a scoff, he pulled his arm free. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. I’ll gladly give it to you.” As to prove his point, the young man went to pull it off, only for it to stay fixed in place. He struggled with it before the guard threw his head back with a groan.
“It is magically locked in place you nitwit. Until we break the spell it will remain adhered to your wrist.”
“Magically? Is this some kind of joke? What are you going to do, pull a rabbit out of a hat?” He scoffed at that, glaring at Steve.
“Stop being ridiculous. Do I look like a summoner to you? Also, what would a rabbit do to solve your issues?”
“Wha-?”
“Alright guard, my patient needs healing and rest. Please allow me to do my job as I allowed you to. You can finish your interrogation once his health has returned to a more lucid place. I will call for you at such time.” Steve expected a retort, an argument to break out due to whatever drugs the guy had been taking. Magic wasn’t real, despite the bracelet being adhered to his wrist, or the night before with the statue. Maybe he’s just been sick and it was all a fever dream. Gray probably found him and he’s in some kind of historical hospital.
“Just keep him locked up and send for me when he is coherent again.” Without a response he left, slamming the door. The woman tutted before turning her attention back to Steve.
“I apologize for his attitude, he is just cautious. My name is Joyce, I am a healer. I have waited till you woke up before asking to heal you. I can do it magically or with traditional methods. I know some humans are averse to magical methods, however, it will relieve your ailments in time for the guard's second round of interrogation. I understand he will not be swayed again. The king requires information on how you got into the burial chamber. “
“You too? This is definitely a fever dream. There is no such thing as magic, it's all smoke, mirrors, and illusion.”
“Oh dear, you must have hit your head. I assure you I am a rather talented vitamancer and you will need all your strength. I am sure King Kas will be ruthless when he comes to question you.”
Steve froze. The nightmare seemed closer to reality at the mention of the statue. Had he been kidnapped by the marble man, taken to some crazed cult that believed in magic? It was too much to focus, covering his eyes with his forearm. He couldn’t bare to face the king, especially not in his current condition. He felt faint, the world spinning as he tried to calm himself.
“Oh sweetheart, do not panic. I will make sure you are well enough if you allow me.” Joyce held a hand up, glowing a faint yellow, and offered with a kind of smile. She seemed sincere, calm, and patient. She made Steve’s freezing body feel warm and he found himself nodding. He doesn't recall the next few minutes beside a glow before the world returned to dark.
Joyce left him under the guards at his door, nodding at the two as she warned them to leave the intruder to rest. Her robe dragged behind her while she strolled up the castle stairs, to the king's private office. It’s where he felt the most confident in addressing issues with his advisor before the court. To say she wasn’t surprised that the others were already there delegating to one another. Her arrival went unnoticed as the king's personal guard and guard commander were arguing. Kas stood, rubbing his temple, Joyce noting the headache that was forming.
“He has been uncooperative, delusional, and quite frankly an ass.”
“You were not there when the guard retrieved him. He looked like a traumatized wet dog. I highly doubt he is lucid enough to even register where he is.”
“Chris, Gareth, please calm your voices.” Kas groaned, looking up to see the newcomer. “Joyce, you have spent time with the intruder. What do you have to say about him?” Eyes dragged to the healer, one of the elders of the advisors, looking to her as the voice of reason.
“It is hard to say. He has been incoherent most of the times he awoke. The fever has taken a toll on him, affecting his memories. He seems lost on how he got here and magic as a whole. I did heal him and he is resting. The guards are aware that the only visitors outside this room are food delivered by the guards. Once he is awake and fed, then we shall be able to question him. You have my sign Liffey.” Joyce instructed.
“Understood, then I will personally accompany Gareth. If this stranger is working for Lord Vecna and infiltrated our walls then we will retrieve all the information possible with any means necessary.” Kas demanded.
“His clothing was certainly strange.” Gareth huffed.
“He will get a moment to state his case, I for one am looking to get some answers about our dead man walking.” Kas sighed. “Joyce, once he is alert and fed, calls for us.” The woman nodded, excusing herself. She left, taking a detour to the castle garden. In the center were her twins, Will and El, practicing magic. They were playing with a bush of roses, wilting before returning to their vibrant state. Unlike her eldest, the twins had been born as diviners, much like their paternal grandmother. Their father was the only non-mage in their unique family, her three children house unique magic.
She watched for a moment, enjoying the sight of the youngest taking joy in their magic. Looking off to an opposing garden corner, seeing her eldest, Jonathon backed against the gardener. Argyle was a down-to-earth Druid, who seemed to take a fondness for her son. Joyce knew the two were closer than friends, it was clear how the druid grew a flower and tucked it behind the younger healer's ear. Young love always warmed her heart, to see her children happy.
Pulling away, she called out for lunch, planning to check on Steve when they finished. She didn’t make it past the appetizer before Gareth came running into the dining hall, with a patrol with him. Joyce stood, concern painted on her face at the notice of their city gear. “What is going on?”
“I will stay in the castle. If he tries to attack then I will be here for the king.” With a nod, the young guard had the patrol out of the castle grounds.
———————
Tag list, if you’d like to be added (or I missed you) state so down below. There are some that would not allow me to tag, I did leave them in and I will look into it as soon as I can.
@steddieas-shegoes , @steddie-steddie @paintsplatteredandimperfect @roastingdragon @oblivion-void @just-a-tiny-void @lilangeldevil006 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @izzy2210 @weirdandabsurd42 @throwbackthrowaway @steve-the-hairrington @loser-of-hearts333 @croatoan-like-it’s-hot @gingersass @alto-delete @anaibis @limbs-are-optional @thephantomhood @itsall-taken @jamieweasley13 @imfinereallyy @yeahhh-suga @awkotaco24 @aliea82 @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @stxrcrossed186 @emly03 @elviraenthusiast @siriusleeart @fxrgetmenott @amerikanskaya-krassavitsa @noctxrn-e @spicysix @renaissan-vvitch @lovelyscot @goodolefashionedloverboi @teelagurl558 @seilahtitania32 @sparky--bunny @dontslayfay @amrice @pluckedstrings @plyerice27 @vae1bixy @grtwdsmwhr @vacantwatchers @8em-em-em8 @stevesbipanic @commonxsenss @sani-86 @suikatto @callmesirkay @spideysteveloml @neeerdrage @quevadilla @p0lybl4nkk @thetrueghostqueen @ok-just-why @eyesofshinigami @oxidantdreamboat @platinum-sunset @milottadoodles @chillichats @kyysposts @bookworm0690
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earthpleasures · 1 month
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OCEAN EYES !
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Steve Rogers x fem!wife!avenger!reader
Summary: ever since downfall of Avengers, your marriage was in shambles. A certain event ripped off the final thread between you and Steve. However, can you be mended?
Warnings: ANGST / swearing, misunderstandings, poor communication, miscarriage, slight alcoholism, self harm, nightmares, reader and steve love each other but they're stupid.
Word Count: 1.4k
Note: events take place three months after 'avengers: infinity war'.
dividers by: @benkeibear
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"you really know how to make me cry
when you gimme those ocean eyes"
- ocean eyes by billie eilish.
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The night was cold, the wind blowing through the open windows of the house. Ghosts of last year remained inside the walls as Steve feared. With a grunt, he rubbed his face. Even with all the breeze, he was sweating. Damned nightmares.
His hand involuntarily reached to the other side of the sheets, searching for that familiar warmth. Her side of the bed was cold, she must have been up for long enough. He sat up and threw the black duvet off his body. No matter how many times they tried to sleep with windows closed, neither of them could blink. Past haunted present.
Balcony door was ajar, choked sobs being heard from there. He sighed as he stood up and took her cardigan off the nightstand. His steps were heavy, unsure of how to trespass walls she created around them. It's been a long time since they had a proper conversation.
Taking a deep, cold breath into his lungs, he pushed the ajar door, meeting a similar image. Her knees were pulled against her chest on the couch, her cheek pressing against them. An empty bottle of whiskey stood unashamed next to her. He scrunched his nose. Smell of whiskey wasn't the best, especially when it came to his wife.
Tears kept rolling down her cheeks, moonlight illuminating her tired face. Dried tears have been replaced with new, wet ones. She was so drawn to her world of ruins that Steve's footsteps didn't even alert her senses. He cleaned his throat to make his presence known, earning a slow headlift from her. Her swollen eyes were all red from crying.
"What did we talk about drinking at late hours?" He couldn't help but be wary of her behavior. Avengers were his world, but when his world fell into void, all left was ruins. Ruins of his life and marriage. Once an inseparable couple, now barely spoke to each other besides arguing.
"Go to sleep, Steve. It's a late hour to argue." After hours of silence, her voice came out hoarse. A few coughs helped her to clean her throat. "I don't need your pity." She said with the pain-filled undertone in her voice, something only Steve would hear.
"You don't need my pity, Y/n. You need me." His words only fueled the anger that crept her features. "Oh, really Captain? Where were you when I fell into hell in that hospital? Let me tell you, you were in another country, trying your best to avoid me. Maybe you even wished for me to perish." Her drunk words stung like venomous needles, making Steve fix his stance.
"I didn't escape from you. We were on a mission and-"
"AND WHAT? ARE THE FUCKING MISSIONS MORE IMPORTANT THAN YOUR WIFE?" Her sudden outburst caused Steve to frown. "It's nothing like that, you're being dramatic right now." A sarcastic laugh escaped her throat. "Dramatic? I lost my baby, Steve. I didn't even get to hold my child before I lost her. And to remind you, she was your daughter too."
Moments of silence went on and went on. Neither of them spoke, no one taking a step to lower the barriers between them. When she buried her head to her knees, Steve remembered the soft cardigan he was holding from the very beginning of their argument. He bit his lips, not wanting to say one more word to her. Throwing the soft fabric on the table next to her, he slammed the door behind him and went to bed.
Now his side of the bed was cold too.
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She was running, running, and running again. Brown-haired boy smiled at her from a distance, waving his hand cluelessly. He wasn't aware of the danger waiting for him. "Peter! Peter!" Her own screams were ripping her skin. Boy didn't react to her agony or cries.
When she finally reached her destination, her body fell to the floor. Before she could reach him, smile on his face dusted away. Gray dusts flowed through her fingers.
"Y/n, wake up!" The sudden shock of being shaken made her open her eyes. Steve's worried face was in front of him. Everything was a nightmare again. Universe kept rubbing the fact she couldn't protect the kid to her face. She let him kiss her forehead and press her against his warm chest. Throughout everything that happened, every fight occurred between them, he was still her safe space, the only place she could walk into with her eyes closed. "It's okay, I am here... I am here..." The whispers against her hair began to show their effects, smoothing the fast beating of her heart.
She clumsily threw her robe over her back and wore her slippers, making her way to the bathroom. A bath was what she needed most at this time. Looking into those blue eyes she once loved so much was now nothing short of torture. Of course, Steve didn't blame her for The Snap. However, a part of her dusted away with all of the people disappeared. Whenever she looked into his eyes, failure looked back at her.
She slowly took off her robe and pajama. The process made her hiss in actual pain, fabric rutting against wounds left from her last panic attack. She didn't know why or how, her hands always found their way to her belly when she had one of her attacks, itching to feel her baby again. The baby she never achieved to embrace.
Her fingers traced shapes on the scars, scratches and stitch marks all over her stomach. Running faucet filled the bathtub with hot water. She didn't mind the burns on her skin, stepping into the vapors. Her skin writhed, as she sank into the water, scratches burned and itched. She laid her head back on cold tiles. Punishment was a given for failed ones, she deserved this.
“Y/n, I am- oh god!” Steve's panicked voice tore her thoughts away. His rushed steps were what she focused on. Strong arms pulled her out of the water. After coming out of hot water, her body shivered with cold air caressing her. “What the hell were you doing!?” Steve exclaimed as he turned the cold water on, easing the hot sensation.
Scratches on her body gained his attention. “Y/n. What are these?” Ah, one more failure. Steve finally discovered the scratches. “Nothing.” Her tone stood neutral, not giving away anything.
“Look at my eyes. Are you harming yourself?” She shook her head to say no. But Steve wasn't stupid and he knew his wife well enough to understand when she lied to him. “Love… You should've told me.” After months of separation, and emotional distance, the goddamn wall finally cracked. Maybe that was what was needed in their relationship. Fear of losing.
Her arms wrapped around his shoulders as she buried her face in the crook of his neck. The world was finally spinning on her way. Steve cupped her cheeks gently. “Look at me, darling. No matter what happens between us, you're still my wife. I am still your husband. Come to me, because in this world, only we can mend each other.” Her lips trembled as tears began to fill her eyes.
“I am sorry, Steve. For not listening to you, for bursting out of nowhere. You are right. We have only each other left.” He nodded as his thumb brushed her cheek, wiping the tears away. He hooked his arms under her waist and knees, picking her up.
After laying her down, he opened their emergency drawer and took out the burn cream. With slow motions, he circled the cream on the red pitches of her skin. “I know you don't think I cared about our daughter, but I did. As much as you did. Sleepless nights held me captive after losing her. I couldn't come to the hospital because I had no way back.” He kissed her knees, fingers massaging her thighs as if he tended to heal her. “I am so sorry, my love. I shouldn't have left you in the dark alone. I should've stood next to you.”
She looked at his eyes. The very ocean blues she loved. She still loved them. They were not at a point of no return. Her smile was real this time, not an effort to push him away. “We can fix everything and start all over again, right?” He closed her eyes and kissed her softly, it made her feel loved. “Yes, yes we can.”
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©2024 earthpleasures do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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fallenclan · 5 months
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The trees were bleeding their leaves again, the vibrant reds and oranges blurring together in a colorful cascade. With leafbare fast approaching, Silverpaw knew the medicine den would need to be fully stocked. She was so engrossed in her task that she hardly noticed the crunch of leaf litter behind her until a familiar scent hit her nose.
"Applepaw?" Silverpaw hissed in shock. "What are you doing here?"
"I sneaked away from Toro," Applepaw giggled. "What are you doing? Boring medicine cat stuff?"
"I'm collecting herbs," Silverpaw replied. She felt the need to chastise Applepaw but couldn't bring herself to do it, the silly grin on Applepaw's face making Silverpaw's chest feel warm.
"Is Sunwish around?"
"She's nearby." Silverpaw gently placed the burdock she had been collecting on the ground. "Was there a reason you snuck off to find me?"
"I like hanging out with you, and Toro keeps lecturing me about proper hunting etiquette or whatever. Who knew hunting had so many rules!" Applepaw groaned, dramatically collapsing to the ground for emphasis. Silverpaw couldn't help but laugh, whiskers twitching in delight.
"She'll only lecture you twice as much for sneaking off, you know."
"Worth it." Silverpaw felt herself grow warm again. Applepaw thought she was worth getting a stern lecture for.
"Actually, there was something I wanted to tell you," Silverpaw admitted, feeling her heart begin to race. She didn't know what she'd do if Applepaw reacted poorly. "I, uh. I've been talking to Sunwish and I think. . ." Silverpaw trailed off.
"Think what?" Applepaw's nonchalant demeanor had vanished, the beginning of concern in her gaze.
"I'm a she-cat," Silverpaw blurted. "I think I've always been one, I just didn't know. It's why I was so happy to change my name to Silverkit instead of being. . ." Sylvester.
"Oh." Applepaw shifted to her paws. "Okay."
"Okay?"
"I guess I'm not the only she-cat in the friend group anymore," Applepaw purred. Silverpaw practically felt herself melt with relief. "Thank you for telling me. I'm sorry if I ever made you feel uncomfortable by calling you a tom-"
"No, no! You didn't. . . I didn't know either," Silverpaw spoke hurriedly.
"Okay, I'm glad, because-"
"Applepaw?" Sunwish's stern voice sliced right through whatever Applepaw had been about to say. "What are you doing bothering my apprentice? Where's Toro?"
"Uh." Applepaw smiled sheepishly. Sunwish was unimpressed, her tail twitching irritably.
"We're done collecting herbs anyway. Make yourself useful and help us carry them back. We can discuss the punishment for your misbehavior with Goldenflare and Toro later."
"Sorry," Silverpaw mouthed behind her mentor's back. Applepaw only shrugged. Her gaze said it all. Worth it.
...
"This is daisy, it's highly toxic to cats so don't grab any of those. . . ah, here's what I was looking for! This is yarrow, it can be super useful for treating wounds that have poison or venom in them." Silverbelly waded through a patch of fronds to reach the aforementioned yarrow, scooping up a pawful. "I'll carry these if you can get the borage." A pause. "Applebranch, are you listening to me?"
"What?" Applebranch blinked, coming to the sudden realization that she had been staring at Silverbelly. "Oh, yes. I've been listening, I promise. Your fur just looks so beautiful in the sunlight. Not that it doesn't always look beautiful, but you know what I mean."
Silverbelly ducked her head behind a particularly tall frond to hide her face. "Thanks." That warm feeling in her chest was returning. It seemed to happen more and more lately, everytime she was around Applebranch.
"You don't need to thank me." Applebranch padded forward, crushing a few ferns as she went. She swiped the borage from Silverbelly, pelt brushing against Silverbelly's own.
"Well, I've been meaning to thank you, not just for the compliment. It's nice having someone to talk to while I collect herbs. Sunwish's never really been one for conversation; she can be a bit grumpy, but she means well."
"I don't know how many times I need to say it. I like spending time with you. No, not like. I love spending time with you," Applebranch insisted, brows furrowed. "You're compassionate, intelligent, understanding. . . you're my best friend."
Silverbelly couldn't help the purr rising in her throat. She could even feel her eyes watering slightly. "I love spending time with you too, Applebranch."
"Then let's keep spending time together."
"Always."
...
"I like you."
"I think that's already been established."
"No, I like you."
"Well, I like you too."
"Really?"
"Obviously."
"So are we. . . ?"
"If you want to be."
"I do."
"I do too."
...
It's only been a moon since they've become mates when Applebranch told Silverbelly that she was expecting kits.
"I won't let anything happen to you, or our kits," Silverbelly promised. She had been told what happened with Morningbloom.
"I know." Applebranch rested her chin on Silverbelly's shoulder, wrapping her tail around the medicine cat's flank. "I trust you."
"Are you nervous? I'm nervous."
"About the kitting? A bit. About being a parent? No. I think we'll do great."
"How can you be so sure?"
"I know us. I know our kits will grow up loved and well cared for."
"I can't wait to meet them," Silverbelly purred. She didn't bother to hide the tears in her eyes.
...
Flykit was running like a whirlwind around the medicine den. Mudkit couldn't stop giggling, watching her brother race about with glee. Silverbelly was laughing too, even as some of the herb stores were scrambled. Sunwish was decidedly less amused.
"Flykit, what in StarClan's name are you doing?"
"I'm showing Mama my warrior skills! Look how fast I am!" The tom came to an abrupt halt in front of Sunwish. "Wanna see my battle skills? I'm gonna be a great warrior!"
"Sunwish is a medicine cat, silly," Mudkit chirped. "She isn't interested in warrior stuff."
"Mama likes to watch and she's a medicine cat," Flykit argued.
"I would like to see your. . . 'battle skills,' Flykit, but I would like to see them out of the medicine den, okay?" Sunwish interceded before the kits could get into an arguement.
Silverbelly blinked gratefully at Sunwish. Silverbelly wasn't certain the senior medicine actually wanted to watch kits attempt fighting stances, but she was glad that Sunwish had at least feigned interest.
"Come on, kits, let's go find Applebranch and then you can show her and Sunwish your battle moves."
"Not me. I just wanna watch," Mudkit mewed.
"That's okay, sweetheart. You don't have to join in."
For not the first time, Silverbelly wondered if Mudkit would follow the path of a warrior or chose something else entirely.
...
"I just can't believe it." Silverbelly's voice was trembling slightly. "I know a lot of cats didn't like her, but she wasn't--she wasn't cruel. Sunwish was a great cat. She. . . I look up to her so much. Why would someone do this?"
Applebranch pressed herself against Silverbelly's side, licking her mate's ear. Applebranch had never been the best at comforting cats, but she was ready to support Silverbelly in whatever way she needed.
"I feel so lost, Applebranch."
"You'll make it through this, Silverbelly. I'm here for you. So are Dawnshine and Maplethorn. Even Honeygleam, though he can be a bit of a mousebrain sometimes. We'll all support you, no matter what happens."
"I love you, Applebranch."
"I love you too."
...
"So Lichenstripe came from ShallowClan?"
"Yeah, isn't it crazy? Floodstar exiled him over some vision he had."
"Floodstar must be a real mousebrain to exile a medicine cat and ignore a vision from StarClan."
"I guess it's nice to have extra paws in the medicine den. Stormpaw has been such a blessing, honestly. He's so sweet with patients and so funny, too. He makes me laugh."
"He can't possibly be more funny than me, right?"
"How badly would you be hurt if I didn't respond?"
"Terribly."
"You're such a goose, Applebranch."
"I know."
...
"I'm a tom," Crowflame stated firmly. "Also, I might be in love with Blizzardfang."
Applebranch let out a delighted sound similar to a squawking bird, nearly knocking Crowflame over in an embrace. "Blizzardfang? Oh, honey, she'll be great for you!"
"What's that supposed to mean?" Crowflame wrinkled his nose, detangling himself from his mother's embrace.
"We're just proud of you, sweetheart. Always be true to yourself, no matter what," Silverbelly purred. "My wonderful son."
Crowflame couldn't help the purr that rose in his chest.
He would later deny it.
...
Applebranch could barely process what was happening through the haze of fever. Her leg was mangled beyond repair, twisted at such an unnatural angle that Applebranch knew she'd never be able to walk on it again.
The medicine den was filled with the scent of death, with a gentle blanket of rosemary and lilac overtop. Was it her own death that Applebranch could smell? It couldn't be. And whose tears were those? "Silverbelly?" Applebranch croaked.
The sniffling abruptly stopped. "A-Applebranch? Are you awake?" A silver muzzle came into view. "Applebranch, we're going to have to remove your leg. It's-it's going to be okay."
"Why. . ." Applebranch trailed off, having trouble focusing. Everything was so colorful and swirly. "Why are you crying?"
"Oh, Applebranch, something terrible has happened."
It was only a few days after Applebranch's leg was amputated that she learned Molesong had died.
...
"How do you know if you like a cat? I mean, wanting them to be your mate and all?" Eaglestripe was padding alongside Silverbelly, both she-cats weaving through a tangle of ivy to reach a hollowed out alcove. The best moss could be found within, so soft even the grumpiest elder couldn't complain.
"Oh. May I ask where this is coming from?" Silverbelly glanced at her granddaughter curiously. The she-cat had been spending a lot of time with Daisypetal lately.
"It's just that you and Applebranch have such a strong relationship. You both really love each other, you know? I want that kind of relationship. How do I know if she--I mean, if a cat, hypothetically, is right for me?"
Silverbelly chuckled fondly, eyes crinkling with affection. "I knew Applebranch was right for me because she made my heart feel warm."
"What?"
"Whenever I'm around her, I feel so warm and fuzzy. I feel like I could do anything. I'll never feel lost as long as she's by my side."
"Wow." Eaglestripe had stopped walking. "You've always felt that way about her?"
"For a long time, yes. I think I knew for sure when I first became a full medicine cat. You're young, Eaglestripe. If there's someone who makes your heart warm, you should tell them and see if they feel the same. It's worth a shot, at least."
"Thanks, Grandma." Eaglestripe purred softly. "I had one more question."
"Yes, sweetheart?"
"How did you know you were a she-cat?"
...
"A mediator?" Silverbelly had been sorting herbs when Mudsplash padded into the den, exitedly rambling about an idea she'd had.
"Yes. I'll help cats solve their problems, with each other or with themselves. I could even solve problems with the other clans!" Mudsplash grinned, her one visible fang peeking out. With such enthusiam in her gaze, Silverbelly was struck by how much Mudsplash took after Applebranch, not in temperament, but in expression.
"Then FallenClan would be lucky to have you as its first mediator."
"You're just saying that 'cause you're my mom. That's okay though, I know I'll be a great mediator," Mudsplash declared. "I'm going to go talk to Goldenstar about my idea. Would you come with?"
"Wait."
"What?"
"Your fur," Silverbelly chided, padding closer to inspect the unruly and often matted fur of her daughter. "Let me clean you first. You'll want to look presentable."
"Mama. . ." Mudsplash let out an annoyed exhale. "Grandpa doesn't care about how my pelt looks."
"He may be your grandfather, but he's still your clan leader."
"I'm not a kit. You don't need to fuss over me," Mudsplash sighed, but her tone relayed affection rather than annoyance.
"I'm your mother. I'll always fuss over you."
"As long as your fussing is quick! I really want to talk to Goldenstar, before he's busy with some other thing."
"I'll try not to take too long, sweetheart."
"Thanks, Mama."
...
Every shadow, every flicker of light. They were all out to get her. Silverbelly hadn't stopped shaking since Otterslip had been exiled. Her wound was bound tightly with a poultice and cobwebs, but she could feel the way his claws had torn through her flesh.
He killed Stormsight. He tried to kill me. He's going to kill me. What if he comes back? What if he attacks me while I'm out on the territory? What if-
Uneven pawsteps approaching the medicine den caused Silverbelly to flinch, but she quickly forced her fur to lie flat. She recognized those pawsteps, and her suspicions were confirmed when Applebranch poked her head into the den.
Her gaze was haunted. "Silverbelly, I'm so sorry. I should have been there."
Silverbelly opened her mouth to respond but no words came out. Instead, a strangled sort of cry escaped her. Applebranch was beside her in an instant, curling into Silverbelly's nest alongside her. "Eaglestripe saw to your wound? . . . good. You aren't bleeding anymore? Have you eaten? Do you want me to go get-"
"No." Silverbelly bristled and Applebranch's eyes widened in alarm. "No, don't leave me. Please."
"Oh, Silverbelly." Applebranch pressed her nose against Silverbelly's cheek. "I won't leave you, I promise. If he ever dares show his face around here again, I'll-"
"Let's not talk about Otterslip, please."
"Okay. Do you. . . want to talk about anything?"
"Not really."
"Why don't you rest, and I'll keep watch, okay?"
"Okay. . . okay, thanks Applebranch."
"I'll keep you safe."
...
"How's Moosepaw doing?" Applebranch yawned, a wash of contentment spreading over her. A half eaten squirrel lay at her side, which Hawkwish had now begun to finish off.
"He's doing really well. I had a talk with him and he's been feeling a lot better lately." Hawkwish mumbled around a mouthful of squirrel, "He's going to do great things, I know it."
"You're doing great things too, honey." Applebranch blinked warmly at Hawkwish. "I'm really proud of you."
"Thanks, Grandma. That. . . means a lot."
"I mean it."
"I know."
...
"Salmonpaw and I caught that foxheart at the border yesterday."
"Did you?" Silverbelly's eyes widened in surprise. Nobody had told her.
"We chased him off, of course. I even gave him a good scratch, but the rat scrambled off before I could do much else," Applebranch grumbled. "I'd like to tear his flea-ridden pelt off."
"Just be careful." Silverbelly pressed herself against her mate's side. "You're old, Applebranch. You could always-"
"I'm not retiring," Applebranch sniffed, growing irritable. "You can't make me, Silverbelly."
"I wouldn't try to," Silverbelly chuckled lightly. The thought of Otterslip disturbed her, but the tom didn't frighten her as much as he used to. Now thinking about him just made her. . . sad.
"I know. Sorry for snapping at you. I think I'm just, I don't know, feeling insecure about getting old or something." Applebranch let out a frustrated grunt.
"If it helps, I'm getting old too," Silverbelly replied gently. "And so is Maplestar. Have you talked to him about any of this?"
"No, Maplestar is stressed enough without his sister complaining about her aching joints."
"Have you been in pain lately?" Silverbelly frowned, briefly scanning Applebranch's pelt for signs of tension.
"My leg has been aching again, that's all."
"Well, tell me if it gets worse, okay?"
"Will do." Applebranch paused. "Do you want to go swim in the star-pool? It might make my leg feel better. . ."
"You just want an excuse to show off your fishing skills."
"Guilty."
"I can afford to take a break," Silverbelly replied. "Let's go, before it gets dark out."
...
"I'm not a she-cat or a tom."
"That's all right, sweetheart. Should I start referring to you as 'they' or is there something else you'd prefer?"
"They works just fine for me," Eaglestripe grinned. Silverbelly gave their shoulder a supportive lick for good measure.
...
Silverbelly let out a delighted yowl. "I can still touch the bottom with my paws!"
"No way!" Applebranch guffawed, splashing water at Silverbelly. "I keep trying to swim down there but I always run out of breath before I can make it."
"Remember when you used to swim to the bottom and grab little pebbles for me?"
"I can't believe you remember that," Applebranch chuckled.
"You taught me how to fish, too."
"Yeah, you were actually really good at it, too."
"What! You told me I was bad at fishing!" Silverbelly scoffed in disbelief.
"I might have lied," Applebranch purred, a mischevious glint in her gaze. "I wanted to keep 'teaching' you how to fish," Applebranch admitted sheepishly.
"So all those times you were 'correcting' my technique, you were really just making stuff up?"
Applebranch opted to duck beneath the pool's surface instead of answering, once again trying to reach the pool's bottom. Silverbelly shook her head, fondness flooding her.
Later that day, Silverbelly added a new pebble to her collection.
...
"I feel numb."
"I feel ancient."
"Do you think we've lived good lives?"
"Mostly, yes. I'm glad we lived them together."
"I miss my brothers. I miss my father. I miss our daughter. I miss all of the friends we've lost. I don't know if I can live with this grief anymore."
"There's a lot of cats I miss, too."
"How do you get by?"
"It's simple. I know that they're waiting for me. Soon, they won't have to wait any longer."
"Does it scare you?"
"Not anymore. Are you afraid?"
"I don't think so. As long as we're together."
"Always."
"I love you."
"I love you, too."
-🐉
(cat romance, cats in love... here is the promised silverapple fic! a collection of moments from their lives, including some moments with their children and grandchildren as well.
please go read lollipop anon's silverbelly fic and beetle's maplestar & silverbelly fic! they're both so good and gave me lots of inspo
hope you enjoy❤️)
SCREAMING AND CRYING.... DRAGON ANON THIS IS SO GOOD!!!!!!!!!!!! i am in LOVE with your characterizations of everybody, especially Sunwish--you captured her perfectly. prickly but wanting to do better.
THE LAST BIT..... i will live out the rest of my days in a grain silo. absolutely DEVESTATING. you dont know the kind of agony you are causing me
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