#and so i am embracing it. he's tinkering with his arm in his free time but if he has to spend weeks (or months) w/o his prosthetic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rocket-our-baby · 9 months

Text

No Dreams were prettier

a/n: ₊✧˚﹕︶︶︶﹕૮₍ ⸝⸝´ ꒳ `⸝⸝ ₎ა﹕︶︶︶﹕ ˚✧₊

You can find out more about me & pls read my disclaimers here.

Masterlist here

Rocket x fem!reader oneshot

Can be interpreted romantically or platonically (personally I like the one where they’re in-between and figuring it out before confessing; please feel free to read it the way you want.)

Just a fluffy oneshot to hopefully brighten up your day or soothe any of your acute/chronic/pms pain <3

Yes I wrote this when I was very very sick lmao like literally when I was cold sweating from the pain but nonetheless no particular warnings apart from mentioning of pain, except for extra pointless fluffs ahead behold

The title of this is kinda foreshadowing to what I hid at the end of the fic, and it works both ways ✵彡

English is not my native language (I just read tons of fanfics to keep on truckin’ and now here I am, still alive)

Ok the foreword wouldn’t necessarily be any longer in my future posts it’s just, this is like my first official fic posted here on this blog over the past decade since I deliberately avoided SNS so, kindly bear with my oversharing and thank you for stumbling upon here!

Hope you enjoy <3

╭────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╮

𝒩ℴ 𝒹𝓇ℯ𝒶𝓂𝓈 𝓌ℯ𝓇ℯ 𝓅𝓇ℯ𝓉𝓉𝒾ℯ𝓇

info: rocket/f!reader, 3.1k words, 99%pure fluff, sfw, oneshot

summary: You’re sick, and Rocket is worried. He tries not to show it by acting rationally, but it’s very obvious.

note: is possibly one of the chapters in the domestic fluff slice of life series between rocket, the best pilot in the galaxy and the best captain any Terran girl can ask for in space; and the reader, a Terran from Terra living her not-so-normal life in space, with a talking raccoon.

╰────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╯

banner edited by me ✵彡

“Hey,, Rocket… I could use some help… I guess”

Without turning around, Rocket glances up at his back and raises an eyebrow in curiosity, his paws still automatically tinkering with whatever new tools he’s fixing.

“Yeah? What's goin' on, doll? You sounded… weird.”

…only to find you in extreme pain and distress.

“And looked weird.”

Your face in agony, pearls of sweats forming on your forehead, your eyes barely focusing on him, nor are they on anything frankly.

“I’m feeling… bad… like a stomachache bad…”

You sound weak and breathy, but you slowly approach him in small and stumbling steps, both of your arms hugging yourself tightly applying pressure to your stomach, your fingertips digging deep into your soft flesh, bearing the pain and preventing yourself from screaming. Cold sweats all over your body, your voice weak, lips and face pale, as you sit — more like fall — down near him all of a sudden.

Rocket's eyes widen in shock, quickly setting his stuff down and rushes over to help you.

“Whoa, hey, hey, doll, y’alright?”

He gently places his paws on your shoulders to support you enough to sit up, as you give in to his embrace, finally feeling a sense of relief. Looking at you up and down, he nervously assesses your condition and instinctively sniffs for any blood, checking if you’ve had any wounds.

“How long have you been feeling like this?”

He certainly doesn’t sound like his usual self. That snarky, sarcastic, smartass cocky bastard.

“Around half an hour I guess… there’s no one on the ship right now and I’ve been shivering uncontrollably,,”

You let out a weak chuckle and smile bitterly at your own reply.

“I didn’t want to bother you cuz it’s your free time as well, but it’s becoming unbearable… as if my stomach is burning like hell and twisting… like there’s an alien inside ready to burst o-”

“Uh-huh, yeah I know I know.”

Rocket cuts your reference there and sighs in concern as he takes your forehead in his paw to check your temperature. He’s heard this before. From Stark from a kid from Terra called Parker, or something. He doesn’t care right now. All he can focus on at the moment is you, and your well-being.

��But girl, this is definitely not just some minor thingie. How's your appetite? Any vomiting?”

He furrows his brows, trying to figure out what's wrong.

“Not so great…I’ve just been drinking some water. A constant urge to vomit but nothing.”

As Rocket checks up on you closely, he notices your brows furrow in affliction, your lips pale white, your hands slightly shaking and your body shivering but also sweating due to the discomfort. He tries to avert his worrying gaze by turning to examine your body, but it doesn’t escape your Terran instincts.

“Okay... ‘kay, alright. How's your breathing? Any chest pains, difficulty catching your breath?”

He presses his ear near your chest to check your breathing rate and your heartbeat, his paw moves to your abdomen, pulling your shirt upwards to feel your skin and applying some pressure to gauge your sensitivity and any possible organ ruptures in that area.

“Yes, other than feeling like my stomach has become your bomb storage and they’ve all been exploding simultaneously this whole time, it’s alright… still alive I guess.”

You let out a slight sigh feeling Rocket‘s touch on your belly, half-chuckle at your half-joking reply despite struggling to merely keep your eyes open.

Rocket chuckles a bit at your snarky remarks, but then his face turns serious again as he continues observing your condition. Not saying anything, he grabs you by your waist and supports you to walk to a nearby sofa and gently helps you lie down. That’s an order, he said, just for you to chuckle weakly. Not that you’re gonna complain about any of it tho.

“Hmm, okay... this certainly doesn't sound good... d’you have a history of stomach problems? Anything that I’m unaware of?”

He shifts his body to the side, feeling for your liver with his left paw, and keeps applying slight pressure to your abdomen with his right.

You breathe weakly, as you continue to shiver feeling the endless twisting of your organs, but you seem to look a bit better now that Rocket is rubbing gentle circles on your stomach. Your breathing is slowly stabilising compared to a few moments before.

“Yeah I guess… since I was small, I’d often experienced stomachaches whenever I was nervous… or stressed. But this is not supposed to happen when I’m now an adult. I mean, I haven’t been that nervous for quite a long time. Not even when fighting monstrous aliens alongside you guys, y’know.”

“With us, you mean.”

You chuckle softly and weakly as he said that sternly.

The sudden flush of torturing pain causes your brows to furrow tightly again, sweats forming in the creeks of your frown, your eyes on the verge of tears.

“But my stomach has always been weak, to be honest… there’s no Terran food out here, y’know.”

You tell him the honest truth but still insist on playing around a bit in spite of how much your body aches, hoping to ease the atmosphere and not to worry the raccoon too much, given your current state.

It pains him even more to see you like this — always saying you’re okay, joking around to lift your crew up, pretending to be fine.

Rocket’s facial expression softens as he nods in acknowledgement, still monitoring your condition and applying slight pressure on you hoping to make you feel better, his fingers lingers through your soft skin and tracing gentle circles, careful not to hurt you even more.

“Huh... doll, don’t die on me just yet tho, this could be anything from an infection to an organ rupture, but it’d better just be one of your nervous stomachaches. Well, maybe when you see me.”

He smirks and turns to grin at you playfully, all the while continuing to feel for your spleen, and then shifts up to your chest to feel your lungs and heart.

His gaze remains locked on you, watching for any changes in your breathing patterns or expressions.

“Let's just hope it's nothing too serious. Hey, any drinking these days? And how have your bowel movements been lately? When’s your last ‘code red’?”

You blush slightly when his left paw reaches you chest to feel your heartbeat, his claw in your cleavage. You can’t help but smile softly at how serious he looks and sounds when checking up on you.

“Hey Rocky…I didn’t know you’re also a medical doctor apart from being an awesome mechanic and the best pilot in the entire galaxy.”

You grin playfully, looking at his beautiful bright brown ambers. As if they make you forget the pain - for just one second, you thought you’re gonna lost in his hazel eyes which has seen a lot in the universe, maybe more pain that you do, than you’ll ever do, maybe more than you can ever fathom.

For a second, the physical pain you’re experiencing becomes nothing more than noticeable, as your heart aches so much it drops just from the mere thought of what he has endured.

Rocket chuckles softly and lightly taps your forehead with his free paw, just to make sure your mind isn't wandering off too far from the situation.

“‘kay doll, let's not get carried away. I'm not anywhere close to a medical doctor, I'm just here to make sure you don't keel over in the next few minutes. Now stay still and answer my question, will ya? That’s another order.”

“Yes, capt’in.”

You giggle softly, can’t help but smile at him and reassure him there’s (prolly) nothing wrong with your cycles nor daily intakes. Since when did your period elevates to code red btw? Or is it just the colour..?

You don’t even have the energy to wander around anymore in your mind and decide to close your eyes again. Despite the constant distractions…of… his paws.

He continues to feel your chest and your abdomen, occasionally glancing down at your bare stomach to see if the pressure is bothering you or not. You notice how his ears perk up at any noise from your stomach and his whiskers twitches when he’s sensing any discomfort from you. You can’t help but indulge in the feeling of his touches, the smooth motions of his paws, keep thinking how cute he is and admiring how attractive he looks when he’s working on something seriously. Especially when that something is now you.

As the burning of your stomach brings you back to the reality, you chuckle softly at his snarky response, one thing again that you secretly love him for.

“Well… and here I’m just buttering you up to be my teddy bear for the day.”

You smile weakly and sweetly despite your very pale lips.

“And I also love the feeling of your soft paw on my chest.”

You giggle softly, and flash him a wan smile before another flush of pain comes in.

Rocket smirks and chuckles at your flirty comment, but only briefly before continuing his examination.

“Yeah, okay, that was cute and all, but you're the one with an excruciating stomachache, so let's stick to the task at hand, shall we?”

He presses down slightly harder on your abdomen and then listens to your gut for any signs of trouble.

“I just wish I had a stethoscope handy right now...”

He sighs and then leans down to place his ear over your abdomen, listening for any noises that might indicate something suspicious.

You smile at his seriousness and chuckles softly when the soft fur of his and his whiskers touch your now exposed skin, tickling you a bit but also soothing your pain. Maybe it’s just a diversion, or maybe it’s just you craving the feeling of hugging a teddy, or maybe you just wanna hug him… so much.

“It’s alright, Rocket… You’ve helped me a lot already.”

You just can’t resist the urge, as you slowly reach your hand to scratch his head and the spots behind his ears, smiling lovingly at him.

“And y’know, I think… this could help.” You gesture the current action of his by your chin, clearly indicating that you’re feeling better when Rocket is lying on your tummy.

It takes all of Rocket's willpower to stop himself from giving into the urge of just burying his face in your soft, warm chest, instead he remains sitting upright while listening to your gut. After a few seconds, he raises his head and looks at you.

“Yeah, I think it definitely helps. Your stomach's not roaring as loud as before, so that's a good thing. And that slight pressure seems to make you feel better as well.”

He looks down at you, the hint of a grin on his face, still holding back the desire to just bury his face in your neck. He’s got some more serious observations to do, as he pulls away and sits up.

You fake a playful frown.

“Hey, and there I was buttering you up to be my cuddly teddy bear for my not-feeling-so-well day! Ouch-!”

You chuckle softly at your own half-joking reply. But you do mean what you said.

“More like nearly-dying-from-no-missions day to be frank, dollface.”

He lets out a sarcastic chuckle and shakes his head.

“Come on, do you expect me to actually jump on your chest and snuggle up with you?”

He glances down at your stomach again, pressing down slightly. He should be focusing on this right now. Yes, this, not that.

“Still feel okay? You still in pain?”

His voice is a bit softer and quieter now, and you know he is still concerned about your wellness.

“Hmmmm… yes, if you’re not lying on top of me and if you still don’t snuggle with me and be my fluffy cuddly teddy bear/ heat pad for the day right here right now, then yes, very painful.”

You fake a playful pout, and chuckle softly at your own “childish” response, more like at the audacity of yourself to say it out loud to Rocket knowing that he’d not snap you back as harsh when you’re in this state, before smiling and opening your arms for him.

Rocket chuckles, but then rolls his eyes and groans as you gesture for him to come over and cuddle and heat you up.

“Seriously?”

He fakes another eye roll, and sees your almost teary puppy eyes — both from the real pain and from your mischievous idea of planning to cuddle with him.

“Okay fine, alright, if it'll make you feel better...”

He grumbles for a moment before sighing softly. Then he moves to the side, scooting a little closer to you, and then carefully lays on top of you, making sure not to move around too much in case he hurts your stomach.

“Happy now, princess?”

“Very, capt’in!”

You giggle when your wish is granted and then happily wrap both of your arms around the raccoon, feeling his rough but fluffy fur and his warm body.

“Thanks… Rocket.”

You gently pat his back with one of your hands and scratch the back of his head with another, smiling lovingly at his ears tickling the crook of your neck as his head is buried in your soft chest.

Rocket looks up at you for a sec before turning away. Your expression shows that you’re still bothered by the pain, but your face now has a shade of pink to it. Rocket wonders if it’s due to his body heat warming you up or any other reasons.

“You surely are a manipulative one when you’re not feeling well, aren’t ya?”

Sighs Rocket, as he chuckles and replies with a sly remark, regardless, he is smiling softly lying on your chest. His eyes looking at somewhere far away, as if he’s cherishing the moment and pondering… something else.

You giggle softly.

“It’s good to have someone to take care of me for once, y’know. I’m usually the one doing the caretaking… not that I don’t enjoy it tho. It’s just,, it’s a nice change of pace.”

You smile warmly while rubbing gentle circles on his back, and cuddling him a bit more, feeling his heartbeat and his fur coating your bare stomach.

Rocket chuckles softly and scoots in a bit closer, pressing his head against your neck, and allowing himself to relax on top of you.

“Yeah, no kiddin’. You're like the unofficial mom of the group, y’know.”

He seems to enjoy the moment, laying peacefully on your chest, feeling your soft arms wrap around him and your fingers playing with his fur. He smiles contentedly, letting out a deep and calming exhale of breath that he hasn’t had in more than a while.

“Y’know, doll... there's not many people I'd feel comfortable relaxing like this with.”

“Well, that’s my pleasure.”

You let out a giggle and smile lovingly at him, as you keep gently scratching his ears and massaging his neck, but careful enough not to hurt him by gently rubbing the knots around the implants and metals on his body. His muscles feel tight and tense. He surely needs a proper massage some day, you thought and note that to yourself.

“It’s really good to have you around, Rocket… really.”

Rocket shifts slightly to better allow you to reach his ears and massage his neck, not wishing to risk messing up the comfort at the moment.

He closes his eyes and presses his head further into your chest, sighing contentedly.

“...Y’know, for someone who's got a stomachache and is in torturing pain, you seem to be enjoying this quite a bit.”

You giggle softly, your hands keep patting him gently in a relaxing pace, resembling that of your own heartbeat. With him in your arms, your body is no longer quivering, you’re breathing now at a much calmer rate. You smile contentedly with your now less pale lips upon hearing him.

“Well,, for someone so rough and tough and fierce and snarky outside you surely are a lil’ soft ball for me.”

You let him bury his face into your crook, and giggle playfully but sweetly to him.

Rocket chuckles at your remark, but his gaze softens a little as you continue to pat him, still allowing him to lie on top of you as your soft body and your arms wrap around him, his body heat warming you up.

“I'd say it goes both ways.”

For once in who knows how long, he feels his tensed up body relax completely. Turning his head slightly to the side to give you access to his cheek and neck, his eyelids drift shut as you keep patting him gently, allowing himself to relax even further. You notice how the tension of his body loosen up and how his breathing has slowed down.

“I say… you should fall asleep on me like this today. You’re my personal teddy bear for the day, remember?”

He snickers at your comment playfully but then closes his eyes again, feeling safe and comfortable in the warmth and softness of your body and arms. After a moment of silence, he whispers into your chest, his voice sounding tired and relaxed.

“Yeah yeah, yeah, you win, doll. Anything for my girl.”

He lets out a slight sigh as things have eventually gone along your plan. Not that he’d complain though.

Feeling his warmth, you wonder if he’s a literal ray of sunshine. It’s as if all the pain has been drifted away by the river of warmth he radiates. To you, now, and you only.

“...I'm not gonna lie, I'm enjoying this...”

He closes his eyes and savours the moment, taking in the feeling of your gentle touch and your sweet, calming voice.

“…a lot.”

He whispered in an almost inaudible voice as he turns to you after a while, but notices how your eyes are now closed, your facial expression relaxed, your breathing has already slowed and he feels your tummy rising slightly up and down in a steady and relaxing pattern. Your lips now a lot pinker, curving in a contented smile.

He smiles to himself and sighs contentedly, as he lets himself relax on you and slowly drifts off into a dream that you two share in the incredible vastness of the galaxy, into the blooming stardust of the short-lived meteor shower shined upon the darkness of space, into the inevitability of the ever-lasting infinite universe, one that you two will be exploring together in the years to come.

“Sweet dreams, doll.”

𝐈 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬

𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞

𝐍𝐨 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐫

𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐩𝐭.

fin.

♡︎s, comments and rbs are appreciated..!

hope you enjoyed it, and have a lovely day ₊✧˚﹕︶︶︶﹕૮₍ ⸝⸝´ ꒳ `⸝⸝ ₎ა﹕︶︶︶﹕ ˚✧₊

#rocket raccoon #rocket x reader #rocket raccoon x reader #rocket x you #rocket raccoon x you #rocket gotg #gotg rocket #gotg fanfiction #gotg imagine #rocket the raccoon #rocket raccoon fanfic #rocket raccoon fanfiction #rocket raccoon x y/n

158 notes · View notes

authorluvgxbby · 2 years

Text

Looking At Me

Prompt: Tokyo Revengers boys caught you staring at them

Genre: fluff, sickly romantic?

Warnings: None except for y/n being a slight pervert in Mitsuya’s part sorry not sorry

Characters Includes: Mikey, Draken, Chifuyu, Baji, Mitsuya

A/N: heyyy luvs, I’m back in the saddle lol. Just wanted to share some 3 AM thoughts that I had wrote up! I’m considering making more parts of this cuz this had me running LAPS 🫠, feel free to tell me what you think! Also, thank you all so much for the appreciation of my posts, you all are the best, enjoy!

Parts:

Part 1 Part 2

“And then ken-chin was like-hey, y/n, are you listening to me?” Mikey asks, tilting his head up to look at you as he adjusts his position from where he layed in your lap. Silence was your only response as you continued to gaze at him with nothing but love. Gently, he reaches a hand to your face, delivering feathery touches to your cheek. You hummed at his soft gesture, placing your hand over his own. “Sorry. Wasn’t paying attention.” You breathe out, snapping out of your love-sick daze. Pouting, he’s quick to sit up and turn his full attention to you, “What? The whole time?” You couldn’t help but giggle at his puppy-like nature. “You were just so cute, I couldn’t help myself Mikey,” you confessed, smiling as your boyfriend’s cheeks sprouted red at your sudden confession. He’s quick to bury his flushed face into the crook of your neck, pulling you into a messy hug that causes the both of you to topple back down on the couch with him on top of you. “Why do you have to be so cute all the time?” he whines, burrowing his face deeper into you as you laugh at your boyfriend’s soft nature.

Draken grunts softly as he straightens his posture after three long hours of tinkering with the bike he had been working on. “Hey babe, could you pass me that wrench from the toolbox over there?” he groans, stretching out once more from his hunched-over position. When he doesn’t hear your usual “yes baby” or “ok kenny” he turns over to where you were seated at on the stool that wasn’t too far from where he was working, only to be met with your fixated orbs on him. You were hunched over with your elbows propped on your knees and hands holding your face. Raising a brow, he walks over to you and gently pinches your cheek, “Angel?” Feeling the soft tug on the side of your face, you snap back to reality, and are met with your boyfriend’s questioning gaze. “Hm? Yes?,” you asked, straightening yourself up as you looked at the blonde’s questioning gaze. “How long have you been staring like that?” he asks, tugging your arms to pull you up into a strong embrace. You grin, resting your head against his firm chest. “Is it wrong for me to admire my hard-working boyfriend?” you hum, grin growing wider as you listen to the sudden rapid heartbeat of your tall lover. Clearing his throat, he tightens his grip on your waist. “N-not at all, I was just worried s’all,” he mutters.

“Thanks, come again soon!” Chifuyu chimes from behind the counter as he waves off another customer of the pet shop. Sighing, he turns his attention to you, where you sat on a chair, cross-legged with mischievous, narrowed eyes. He slightly jolts at your sudden trained gaze on him. “y-y/n?” he calls out, snapping you out of your trance. You smile sweetly at the sound of your name being called from the dark-haired male. “Yes, love?” “How long have you been staring at me like that?” he asks, relaxing his temporary tense muscles as he makes his way over to where you were sitting, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Not long enough,” you smirk, throwing him a wink. Chifuyu gawks before quickly covering his now reddened ears at your remark. “Baby!” he groans. You couldn’t help but laugh as you watched the warmth spread from the tips of his ears to across his face. “I love you~,” you coo, blowing him a kiss. You certainly would be the death of him.

You sigh, as you continue to observe Baji from afar as he talks with the other division captains of Toman. You sat fully on Baji’s bike, leaning over the front of the bike with elbows propped on either side of the bars as you held your face up to admire your long-haired lover. You could never get over the fact of how handsome Baji looked with his hair out, of course with the complement of his gang uniform as well. You couldn’t help but grin like an idiot as you let your mind wander in your thoughts as to how in the world you got so lucky to be with someone as sweet as Baji. Despite his violent nature when he is in fights, he never fails to be as gentle and caring towards you. Even when you first met him, he had been nothing but a gentleman to you. “Hey…y/n?” a waving hand enters your field of vision hearing the familiar voice of Mitsuya, you slightly jolt up from your dazed state as you turn your head to the side to face a smirking Mitsuya. “You’re so obvious, why not just take a picture of him? It would last longer.” he snickers. You glare at him, landing a hard smack to his arm. “I’m her boyfriend, she doesn’t need a picture if I’m around her all the time.” Chimes the familiar, aggressive voice you knew all too well. Before you know it, a warm hand is tugging at your chin, turning your head to face none other than your boyfriend. “Don’t worry babe, you can stare at me whenever you feel like it,” he smirks, gently thumbing over your plump lips.

Mitsuya always looked so sexy when he was concentrating on his work, but the price for the nice view was such a mighty one. It was such a shame that he seemed to pay more attention to pieces of fabric than you. Huffing, you couldn’t help but glare daggers at the flimsy inanimate objects that Mitsuya had been toying with on the model mannequin for the past few hours, not even realizing that you have been eyeing him the whole time. You even had the chance to admire his butt from where you sat, not that you were complaining, but it was frustrating when you weren’t being acknowledged by your workaholic lover. Unconsciously, a slightly high-pitched whine reverberates from your throat, snapping Mitsuya out of his focused zone, turning his full attention to you. Smiling he calmly walks over to you, reaching a hand to cup your pouting face, “Yes, honey?” he coos, the nickname causing butterflies to flutter your stomach. “You’ve been neglecting me Takashi, I bet you haven’t even noticed me at all” you cry out, earning a chuckle from the calm male. Leaning over you, he uses his other hand to hold himself up using the amrest of the chair, while the hand he had on your cheek wanders under your chin, tilting your head up as he inches his face closer to your own, giving you a better look of his handsome features. His gaze flickers back and forth from your mouth to your eyes, slowly leaning in next to the side of your growing crimson face, breath fanning against your ear, “Oh, my love, you mean how you’ve been staring at me the whole time?” he asks in a husky tone.

2K notes · View notes

kagemaruzest69 · 3 years

Photo

Lovesick {Karl Heisenberg x Reader}

Ch. 1 - {The Village}

【ιт ιѕ тнє ℓινєѕ ωє єη¢συηтєя тнαт мαкє ℓιƒє ωσятн ℓινιηg】

It was finally a time that (Y/N) and her boyfriend, James had been waiting for. A time off from work, a vacation that the two of them really needed. Even when the two works at different offices, everyone knew that the two were an inseparable couple that was sweet and dreamy. Everyone loved and cheered for their relationship to go keep going strong. The couple decided to go to a village in the Eastern Europe that they had read in articles and it looked like a perfect place for them to visit and enjoy their quiet time together, just the two of them.

The fateful day came, however, upon arriving on the destinated village, it looked abandoned, deserted by its villagers even. It totally looked nothing like the pictures in the articles, but the nature surrounding the village and the giant castle that ghosted over the small village are really stunning and had their own magic charm to the visitors. The first step into the village, the couple noticed that the village was not deserted, there were villagers, but they were watching the outsiders from behind the window of their homes. (Y/N) and James were curious about this, if there were villagers around, how come does the village look so deserted? They looked at each other and decided to shrug it off. Since they have just arrived, they were hungry and decided to look for a restaurant or something similar that might be open within the village.

After an hour of searching there were none, so they decided to go to the outskirts of the village and sat by a river stream to catch some fishes for themselves. The air was chill, and the atmosphere was really calm and serene, unlike the true nature of the village. James went to catch the fish, whilst (Y/N) took some water from the stream and boiled it to ensure that it is safe from any bacteria or virus. Unfortunately, unbeknownst to them, a certain parasite that had evolved with the mold, known as the Cadou to certain groups was living within the water and the fishes that they drank and ate. It might be dormant within their bodies right now, but soon enough, it will seal the couple’s fate to the village that they had set their foot in.

After the meal, the two went back to the village. During their path back, (Y/N)’s (E/C) orbs caught the silhouette of a factory on the outskirts of the village, however, the wind was blowing harder by this time and the snow and fog began to thicken that she was unsure if what she saw was something that’s real and truly there. The couple intertwined their fingers together and walked close to share the warmth between the two until they arrived back at the village and stumbled upon what it looked like the village’s church. They went inside to take shelter from the upcoming snowstorm.

The church was smaller compared to the other churches they have been to, but it was enough for the villagers. Inside the church, they found an old woman, sitting by the front seat, praying to Mother Miranda. (Y/N)’s right eyebrow was raised before her eyes darted over from the old woman to the front of the church where there was a picture of a woman in the middle, and another four pictures, each two pictures were placed side by side adjacent to the middle woman. It looked kind of straight from a horror movie, but the pair decided to be polite about it and sat at the furthest chair from the front.

“Youngsters, the two of you are not from around here, aren’t you?” The old woman’s voice echoed within the church’s hall. “No, we’re actually visitors and we have just arrived here today.” James answered whilst (Y/N) scooted closer to the male’s side, feeling uncomfortable with the conversation and the air. “Oh my, you should pray for your safety and I wish you safe through your journey. Shall Mother Miranda bless you.” The old woman stood up from her seat. “The storm will be here soon along with the others. The two of you should stay here until it is over. I do not advise that you two go out while the storm is present. It is unsafe and you might become its prey.” Her sentence was enough to make (Y/N) alerted, her lips were parted, “Mother Miranda? Who is that? And whose prey? There are predators here?” she queried in hurry as fear laced her questions. “The goddess and the protectors of the land.” was the old woman’s short answer before she left the couple alone in the church.

A look of dread was present on (Y/N) face before she turned to hug her boyfriend which embraced her back tightly. “We will be fine, don’t worry, it could be just a tale that the elders told the youngsters here to make sure that the youngsters would stay in line and act accordingly to the village’s moral value. To make sure that the children would stay away from troubles.” James assured (Y/N). This managed to calm her down. As she closed her eyes and hugged him, a twisted smile played upon his lips as a wicked plan formed within his head. “After the snow is over, we will set up our camp on the nearby hill.” She nodded and retracted her arms from his body. “I love the nature here, however, I have a bad feeling about this village.” She told him with a sigh. “I know my dear, but we will be out of here soon, don’t worry. I promise you that I will keep us safe.”

Hours passed by, probably around 3 to 4 hours since the snowstorm started, and it had died down. The two had fallen asleep within each other’s arms during the wait and (Y/N) had woke up first. She nudged her lover softly with her hand, waking him up from his pleasant slumber. His eyebrows were scrunched before his eyes opened to find her and a small smile was formed upon his lips. “Is it over?” He asked her and she replied with a nod. “Let’s set up our camp soon, the nighttime is getting closer.” (Y/N) stood up from the seat and took her things as James got ready as well. The two walked hand-in-hand to the nearby hill and set their camp up for the night. As she sat by the folding chair, she saw the factory once again. ‘So, it was real’ she thought to herself. The factory looked huge and once again, abandoned just like the village. However, she found it to be very enticing, maybe it was because of her love for machines and she had a hobby to tinker with something during her free time back at her hometown.

A tap was felt on her left shoulder and she turned her head from the factory to the face of her lover. He had a handsome face, soft baby blue eyes with short blonde hair with an undercut style and clean shaved face. He smiled and offered her a glass of water which she took, “Thank you.” She said before she took a sip of the water. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” His blue orbs were looking up to the night sky before it went to where (Y/N) was looking at before. “And that factory over there, I am sure it had caught your interest, I happened to see it on our way back to the village which is why I decided to camp on this hill because I know that you would love it and we will be able to go there and do a little search tomorrow. A little adventure at a place that I know you will love,” He leaned down and placed a kiss on her forehead. “And it seems I was right,” he smirked playfully at her, a small giggle escaped her lips. “You are right about that.” The camp on the hill and the factory had somewhat eased her memory about what the old woman had said upon their encounter within the church. “Let’s rest up, there are a lot of places and things to do tomorrow,” James held out his hand to (Y/N). She gladly took his hand and they headed inside their shared tent to rest for the night.

Morning came by quickly. The pair had disassembled their tent and packed their things up. The very next thing they did after their breakfast was heading straight to the factory. (Y/N) eyes lit up in amazement as they arrived at the factory’s front gate. She pushed it open, enough for them to get inside. The front yard was filled with rusted and unused things, starting from rusty scraps, metal scraps, tanks and many more. “Should we head inside?” She asked her boyfriend, unsure whether the factory was still operating or if someone or something reside within it. Oh, how would she jump out of her body had she known that the factory held all kind of nightmares she could ever dream of escaping from and the master of the factory was not one to be too fond of visitors, or rather it was his ‘family’ that was not fond of outsiders. Upon stepping inside, she rushed on her own to inspect the machines inside whilst James, on the other hand, went to look for a metal bar that he would use to execute his plans. He had planned to leave her alone, and possibly it would kill her and soon he would be free from her, he would be free to do what he wants and most importantly, he would be free to be together with his other lover that he had been having an affair with for the past 3 months. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that he had cheated on her and chose an even worse way to solve his problem, to solve his fault. She could die and if the old woman was right, the protectors could capture or even kill her for he didn’t care about her anymore.

He stalked her quietly as not to raise her suspicions and within the right moment, he struck her with the metal bar he found. The metal bar hit right behind her head which sent her body into a shocked state and she fell unconscious right away as blood began to seep out of her wounded head. He quickly tied her to the chair in the main room using the rope he found. It was only the very first room they were in, he truly intended to make it quick for himself and then he fled out of the factory, leaving the door open, and somewhat he managed to leave the village this time.

In the end, who knew that even in the sweetest relationship, there would still be a flaw. After all, nothing is perfect, and imperfection would always follow everyone. And unfortunately, the dearest (Y/N) found out the hole within their relationship, one that she had been turning blind eye on.

Meanwhile, the master of the factory, Karl Heisenberg was just returning from a ‘family’ meeting and he was curious as to why the factory’s main door was open. No one has ever dared to sneak into his factory and live to tell the tale. He went inside and much to his shock and surprise, he found a woman, a barely conscious woman was tied onto a chair. Karl took a drag from his cigar and exhaled the smoke before he placed his hammer down to the side. “My, oh sweet dear, what do we have here? Who was the kindhearted Santa that had left a gift for this old man?” He asked no one, but to himself. He then proceeded to use his metal power to call in a knife and cut the rope off of the female. He walked close to her and examined her, soon, he found out that she had a wound on the back of her head. A frown could be seen instantly as his brown eyes landed on the wound. He lifted her up bridal style into his main workstation which happens to be his own bedroom as well. He placed her on top of his soft mattress as he tended to her wound. What was the reason he did that? He did not know, especially she was an outsider. Maybe he was bored of what he had within his factory and he thought that she would be a new toy to play and experiment with. Maybe he was interested, intrigued by what story she could regale him with about the outside world. For now, he would keep this little prize that came out of nowhere for himself, and shall the time come, he will only then bring her up in the ‘family’ meetings.

-------------------------------------

I will attach the wattpad link to each of the chapter headings. Thank you

#karl heisenberg #heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg x reader #re8 #re village #resident evil village #reader insert

149 notes · View notes

theultimatefanficwriter · 3 years

Note

Gundham’s bday is Dec 14 that’s right around the corner :) Could do a scenario where you plan a date for him at Monoworld. He’s hesitant not cause he doesn’t like it, but because he’s never really celebrated his bday before. He enjoys the date & you show him his surprise. It’s a surprise bday party for him & everyone is there. The gift is a toy car that fits the Devas & the cake is a vegan pumpkin cake. He cries and hugs/ kisses you a lot so. Super fluff

Of course I can write for best boy’s birthday! And this prompt is amazing! Requests are still closed, but I was planning on writing for Gundham’s birthday anyway, so I just decided to use this request!

This takes place during the Island Mode of Danganronpa 2.

His First Birthday-Gundham Tanaka x Reader(Happy Birthday, Gundham!)

You blinked open your eyes to the sound of Usami’s morning announcement, something that had become routine since you woke up on this island and were told you and sixteen others were to be staying here for the foreseeable future.

And that had been life for quite some time now. You and the others had grown close while exploring and cleaning up the island. However, there was one individual you had gotten particularly close to; the Ultimate Animal Breeder, Gundham Tanaka. The two of you formed a strong bond rather quickly, until he finally worked up the courage to ask you out.

You adored him, and now today was a very special day for the animal lover.

You hopped out of your bed, a large smile on your face as you quickly got ready and made your way out of your cottage. As you stepped outside, you noticed Gundham leaving his own home. Your eyes met, and the breeder smiled as you made your way to him.

“Ah, good morning, my sparrow.” He greeted you, his four Dark Devas crawling out from his scarf to see you as well. “Was your rest a pleasant one?”

You nodded, reaching out a hand to scratch Cham-P behind his ear. “It was!” You smiled lovingly up at Gundham. “I was super excited about today.”

Gundham furrowed his brow. “Excited? About what, my paramour?”

You giggled and shook your head. “Oh come on. Have you forgotten your own birthday?!” You grabbed ahold of Gundham’s hands, an action that never failed to make the self proclaimed Dark Lord blush. “I have plans for today!”

“A-ah, that is not necessary, my queen.” Your boyfriend assured you, pulling one of his hands free from yours in order to raise his scarf over his red face. “Merely basking in your presence is all I require for this day.”

You gave a soft smirk. “Well luckily for you, that’s the plan! You and I are going to go on a date!” You began lightly tugging on the breeder’s hand as you made your way to the main island. “In fact, we should get going right now!”

The Overlord of Ice’s eyes widened in surprise as you gently dragged him behind you. “B-but what of our daily meeting with the mortals?!”

You rolled your eyes. “It’ll be fine! Something tells me they won’t miss us. Now come on! Just get moving already!”

Gundham let out a sigh and shook his head, a soft smile forming on his face. “Very well. Even I know better than to argue with you when you have set a goal, my love.” And with that, the boy allowed you to lead him to your destination.

~~~

“The...amusement park?” Gundham raised a brow as you came to a stop at the fourth island. “This is where you plan for us to have our date?”

You nodded, excitement basically pouring from you. “Yup! It’s really the only date spot I could think of.” You looked up at him, and your smile faltered when you noticed his...less than enthused expression. “Oh...is...is it not a good place? We can go somewhere else if you want...”

Gundham looked at you as you spoke, and his features softened. “You misunderstand, my fallen angel.” He began. “It is not that I am not happy. I am pleased just to be beside you. It is just...” The breeder bit the inside of his cheek and glanced away. “I...never really celebrated the day of my birth. It was simply something I was not so...excited for.”

You let out an ‘Ah’ sound as you understand. “Right. That makes sense.” You grinned and leaned up to plant a peck on Gundham’s cheek, which caused the boy to once again start blushing. “Well, I would like to start celebrating it! I want to show you how much I appreciate you. And I think the birth of the Overlord of Ice is something worth celebrating!”

Gundham chuckled at that, and he smiled lovingly at you. “Very well, my queen. Though you truly do not have to go through so much trouble.”

“It’s no trouble, really!” You assured him before grabbing his hand and tugging him in a direction yet again. “Now come on! We still got some time before we need to get to your surprise, so let’s have some fun!”

Your lover glanced at you quizzically. “Surprise? My sparrow, you did not-”

“Yeah yeah I know, I didn’t have to go through this trouble, shut up.” You interrupted him.

Gundham snorted and shook his head at that as the two of you made your way around the park.

~~~

The two of you spent the majority of the day at the park, riding the rides, the rollercoaster, and playing games ran by Usami. You did purposely avoid going into Nezumi Castle, and you could tell Gundham was becoming suspicious. But thankfully you wouldn’t have to dodge his questions for much longer.

You looked to a clock on a nearby wall and beamed, grabbing onto your boyfriend’s hand and looking up into his eyes. “How have you enjoyed the date, my dark lord?” You asked him.

The breeder smiled lovingly at you. “It was incredible, my queen. The perfect way to finally celebrate my arrival to this plane.”

You grinned and leaned up, planting a kiss on his cheek. “I’m glad you’re having fun, cause we’re not done yet!”

Your lover raised a brow. “There is still more? It’s getting quite late, my sparrow.”

“This’ll be worth it, I promise!” You assured him, yet again tugging lightly on his hand.

Gundham sighed and quickly relented, allowing you to pull him along until you stopped in front of Nezumi Castle. “Ah, so the mystery of this building is to finally be revealed?” He teased, giving you a soft smirk.

You rolled your eyes. “Just close your eyes, ok? Don’t open them until I say!”

Gundham obeyed, closing his eyes and listening to the sound of the castle doors creaking open. He then felt you gently pull him inside and close the doors behind him.

“Ok! You can look now!”

Your paramour slowly did as he was told, and as he looked around the room, he suddenly froze. There, in front of him, were the others you had been trapped on this island with. Beside them was a large table with a gift wrapped box on it, and a fairly big orange tinted cake.

“Surprise!” Everyone called out, Ibuki even releasing a party popper. “Happy birthday, Gundham!”

Your poor boyfriend simply stood there, staring at you as he took everything in.

Your friends looked at each other worriedly. “Uh, is he ok?” Mahiru asked Hiyoko quietly.

You frowned and slowly approached Gundham. “Babe? Are…are you alright? Is it too much?” You suddenly started to worry. “I-I’m sorry, I thought you’d like having all our friends celebrate your birthday with you. I-I didn’t mean to-”

You were cut off when Gundham pulled you into a tight embrace. You let out a surprised squeak, but quickly softened in his grip. When the animal lover pulled away, your worry returned as you noticed tears staining his cheeks. Before you could say anything, he smiled.

“My...my love...This is truly the kindest thing anyone has ever done for me. I do not deserve this. I do not deserve you, my dark queen.” He whispered, reaching a hand up to gently caress your face. “No one has ever gone to such effort all for me before.”

You chuckled softly and leaned up to kiss his cheek. “It really isn’t a problem, Gundham. You’re worth all of this and more.” You turned to the table and gestured to the present. “Now, come on! Open up your gift! I worked really hard on figuring out what to get you.”

“And then after, we can partake in the pumpkin cake I made for us to all enjoy!” Teruteru spoke up, a smug grin on his face.

Your boyfriend looked over to the chef. “A pumpkin cake?” He repeated.

“I know pumpkin is your favorite food, so I asked Teruteru to bake you a pumpkin cake!” You informed him. “And don’t worry, it’s vegan.”

A small smile formed on Gundham’s face. He looked into your eyes for a short while before approaching the table and reaching forward to unwrap the gift. You watched excitedly as he tore the paper off and placed it to the side revealing a cardboard box. The animal tamer glanced over at you before opening the top of the box. As he peeked inside, you saw his eyes widen. You giggled as he reached inside and pulled out the gift; a toy car with four seats. He turned to you, holding the car.

You smiled happily. “Do you like it?” You asked him. “I thought long and hard about what to get you, and I decided to ask Kazuichi to tinker with this toy car so that the Devas could control it.”

Gundham looked to Kazuichi in surprise. The mechanic shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck. “Look, I did it for Y/N?” He said, glaring at Gundham. “She’s my friend, and besides, as long as you’re with her you’ll stay away from Miss Sonia.”

You rolled your eyes and elbowed Kazuichi. “Yeah yeah, cool it, Kaz. I appreciate your help.” Your pink haired friend crossed his arms and grumbled.

“You...really contracted this mortal just to construct this vehicle for my Dark Devas?” The breeder asked softly. As he mentioned the Devas, they popped out of his scarf and scurried down to where he was holding the car. Gundham placed the car on the table and allowed the hamsters to climb inside it. After sniffing and inspecting it, they let out happy squeaks. Gundham beamed and turned to look at you, and you felt your heart swell at the joy in his face. “My fallen angel...thank you. This is the perfect present.”

You jumped in place excitedly at hearing that. “Oh, I’m so glad you liked it! I was hoping you wou-”

You were cut off by Gundham suddenly rushing towards you and pressing his lips against yours. You quickly returned the kiss, smiling into it as your boyfriend wrapped his arms around you.

The two of you stayed there for a short time and only pulled apart when Hajime cleared his throat. “Um...we’re still here.” The unknown Ultimate said, rubbing the back of his head and looking away.

You watched as Gundham suddenly turned a bright red and pulled his scarf over his face. You giggled and kissed his cheek. “You’re cute when you’re embarrassed.” You whispered, placing your head on his chest. “I’m glad you’ve enjoyed your birthday, Gundham.”

The breeder glanced down at you and smiled softly. “As I’ve been saying, all I need to enjoy this day is to spend it with you. You are the light to my dark soul, Y/N.” He told you, placing his forehead against yours. “Thank you for being in my life, my sparrow.”

You felt tears of happiness fill your eyes as you held him close. “No. Thank you for being in mine.” You murmured. “Happy birthday, my dark lord~”

I was given my first commission! I’m working on it as we speak! I just wanted to get this done for Gundham’s birthday! If anyone wants to commission me, the info is pinned on my Masterlist! I would greatly appreciate it!

#danganronpa #danganronpa2 #sdr2 #gundham tanaka #request #fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #x reader #female reader #birthday fic #happy birthday gundham!#kazuichi soda #mahiru koizumi #teruteru hanamura #hajime hinata

74 notes · View notes

the-l-spacer · 3 years

Text

Safe (Dragon x Defiant hurt/comfort)

ao3 SB

Summary: Based on the fic dialogue prompt "Please just… just hold me"

Takes place a little before Teneral e.3 - Preoccupied with helping Dracheheim, Dragon hasn't had much time to process what had happened to her during Gold Morning. Some hours spent alone changes that, and Colin helps her to deal with the aftermath.

Note: This is my first fanfic for Worm/Parahumans so! Please b nice! Also, I am. Very sorry in advance if this reads as OOC for either Dragon or Defiant, and I'm sorry if I got any canon details wrong oops-

All that said, enjoy some Dragon/Defiant fluff n angst! I heard this fandom isn't big on shipping but hey hope u like it anyways 👉👈

Dragon was fine.

All fine. Tip-top shape. Of perfectly sound body (which went without saying) and mind. She totally wasn’t having one of those bad days, and she definitely wasn’t letting her mind wander to a dark place. To memories of him. After all, there were countless other matters to worry over, weren’t there?

Or at least, that was what she tried to tell herself.

And she wasn’t wrong, at least not completely. In the wake of Scion’s attack, the damage done and the many needs of the few survivors had consumed her every hour. Already, the remaining Capes were being run ragged fighting for resources and dealing with conflicts among their people, simply trying to stay afloat long enough to rebuild. As one of the few capes that required little to no rest, her and Defiant had found themselves scrambling from place to place, trying to help wherever they could.

Did the people in this settlement have enough food? Did this family have enough firewood to last the winter? Would that group of children even live to see their teenage years?

After all was said and done, Dragon never had more than a few minutes of time to herself in a day, and she liked it that way.

Now she sat, in the cabin her and Defiant built together overlooking the village of Dracheheim. Defiant was out repairing their craft, and insisted that she stay inside and rest, the first time she had an hour or more to herself in months.

She had put on some stupid comedy on TV to distract herself, but as she curled up on the couch, she felt her mind wander to places against her will, places she tried so so hard not to go. For with every thought consumed with ensuring humanity’s survival, she didn’t have to think about the time she had spent at his mercy.

At Teacher’s mercy.

She felt a little growl of frustration leave her. Dragon was more than well aware of that old mind trick; if one was told not to think of a pink elephant, one would do just that, instinctively. So she shook her head, once, twice, tred to pay attention to the movie instead of dwelling on events that had happened months ago.

But it was hard. Just as she would begin to lose herself in a plot thread, something small would come up. This time, it was the personality of one of the mentor characters that made her side-slip. His smug mannerisms, his skeeviness rammed images to her mind’s forefront Memories of hands reaching and digging into her brain. Icy fingers forcing neural pathways in directions that just felt wrong. Teacher violating her, leaving her completely helpless under him. Powerless.

When she felt a hand settle on her shoulder, she jerked away, out of the ball she had unconsciously curled into, caught herself on the couch’s edge with her arm.

“Shit!” She swore, craning her head to fix a scowl at the culprit. “Colin, don’t creep up on me like that!”

“Didn’t mean to, sorry.” Like her, Colin was out of his power armour, clad in a heavy jumper and sweatpants to ward off Dracheheim’s chill. “You alright?”

“I’m— wait, let me turn this thing down. I feel ridiculous talking to you with Legally Blonde on— I’m fine.”

“Never watched it,” he remarked, settling on the couch. “But I don’t care about the movie, I’m worried about you.”

Always to the point. It’s one of the things she loved about Colin.

“I know you’ve been telling me you’re ‘fine’, but I somehow find that hard to believe. You’re never caught off your guard like this. Usually, you can sense me coming even when I’m trying to be quiet.” He had positioned himself carefully, close to her, but not so close they were touching, and for that she was grateful.

“Well, I—”

Before she could play her off as nothing more than a faux pas, deflect playfully like she was planning to do, Colin cut her off.

“Something’s bothering you.”

Not phrased as a question, but a statement of fact. For all her boyfriend bemoaned his inability to ‘people’, he was surprisingly perceptive when it came to her. Drat.

“It’s nothing major. And really,” she emphasised, “I’m fine.”

Colin raised an eyebrow.

“... Lately, I haven’t had the time to be anything other than.”

A nod of understanding. “I get that. This has to be, what, the first time you’ve had more than fifteen minutes to yourself in God knows how long.”

“Exactly.” Dragon sighed. “The curse that comes with being a workaholic; I never know what to do with myself when I’m forced to take a break, so… unpleasant thoughts start working their way in.”

Colin stayed silent, waiting for her to continue. Nothing else for it, then. She drew her legs up on the couch, rested her chin on her knees. Softly, she asked the question that had been weighing silently on her ever since Gold Morning, “Colin, do you think it’s possible? To undo what Teacher did to me?”

He frowned, a crease forming on half of his forehead that still remained organic. “You know I’ve b- I’m still trying. In every spare moment that I’ve had--”

“-- not a lot, I know, we’ve both been occupied--”

“--I’ve been staring at your code, making sense of it. I think it is possible, but progress will be… slow. I’m sorry.”

There were moments when she didn’t regret building herself a body as close to a real human as possible, a body that allowed her to touch, feel, taste, and even experience pain. The feather-light touch of snowflakes settling in her hair was some such moments, along with the comforting press of the weighted blanket (that she had gotten Colin as a birthday gift) against her body. But regret was precisely what came at her boyfriend’s statement, as she experienced the thoroughly unpleasant feeling of her stomach dropping, a chill running up her spine.

“I understand.” That was all she could manage, numbly, before falling silent.

Colin got up abruptly, and the empty spot on the couch somehow made things worse.

“No, no. Listen to me. I will figure it out. If it means not eating or sleeping, that can be managed. You know I can optimise my body further. I’ll do everything it takes to free you.”

He was getting worked up, pacing on the carpet before her, but somehow, his words failed to reassure.

“And if you can’t wait that long, I’ll recruit people. Tinkers. Scientists. I’ll keep your identity a secret of course, and with a team, there’ll be a chance of progressing faster, making more progress than I could on my own.”

“Colin.”

“And if that fails, I’ll hunt Teacher down. No hole that motherfucker could hide in would be safe. I’ll force him to undo his own handiwork, and after, I’ll kill him.”

“Colin.”

He stopped pacing, hands flexing as if to wring an imaginary Teacher’s neck. Upon seeing her expression, he deflated.

“I’m talking out of my ass. I’m sorry.”

“No, stop apologising to me. None of this was your fault.” She breathed in, out, regulating her artificial heartbeat, which had gone faster and faster since the start of his indignant tirade. “I just asked because I wanted to know, and I appreciate your honest answer. You seriously don’t need to modify yourself more than you already have on my behalf. You know you’re the only one I trust with my code, and you definitely don’t need to go on a crusade against Teacher just yet, what with the amnesty and all.”

The unspoken but hung in the air.

“But it’s hard,” she said, voice cracking on the last word. “I can’t have a spare moment to myself, can’t even watch a stupid movie without being reminded of him, of what he did to me. Even once you fix my code -- don’t give me that look because you will manage it, somehow-- I don’t think it’ll ever go away.”

She wrapped her arms around her knees, curled into herself.

Colin leaned over, hovering anxiously.

“What should I do, then?” He asked, helpless, “I’m guessing you don’t want me to leave and work on the problem.”

“No!” She blurted out, a tad more forcefully than she intended. Then, quieter, “No. Stay here, please. Just… just hold me.”

She felt him sit back on the couch beside her, felt hands encircle her. She flinched back, ever so slightly, the memory of Teacher’s cold touch almost overwhelming her. His fingers interlocked with hers, assuring her that he was here, that she was with him. She latched on, focused on the callused fingers of his left hand, the cool metal of his right.

Then, she let go. His arms folded around her, and she fell into his embrace.

This was what made having a ‘human’ body worth it; the way she fit against him, her head tucked under his chin, eyes shut tight, as she just breathed.

Teacher didn’t exist. No one else did, outside the both of them, wrapped together on a small couch in their small home.

She was safe.

Eventually, they had to break apart. Colin was still human, under all his cybernetic augmentations, and staying locked in one place for too long tended to end with sore muscles.

Instead, they cuddled. Dragon propped her legs up on her boyfriend’s lap, and leaned against his shoulder. In response, Colin reached out, pulling the weighted blanket over the both of them.

After a while, he spoke. “I won’t lie, I can’t promise you that everything will be okay. That I’ll reverse the damage to your code.”

She hugged his arm. “You’re brilliant. I’ll trust you to figure things out.”

She expected some smugness on his part, after that little boost to his ego. Instead, he sighed. “This isn’t false modesty. You know I don’t do that. I… I genuinely don’t know if I’ll succeed with this. Doesn’t mean I won’t try my damndest, though.”

Dragon hummed. “Good enough for me. And in the meantime… keep me grounded, on the bad days?”

“You already do that for me,” he said, a slight smile on his face. “It's about high time I returned the favour.

They kissed once, twice.

A knock on the door.

Colin growled in annoyance. “Don’t suppose it’s not urgent?”

“Mmmmf.”

The knock came again.

“We.. had better go get it. Someone probably needs our help.”

“Probably.” Colin agreed. “Until our next breather?”

She kissed him one last time.

“Until then.”

#parahumans #I should tag their ship but I don’t wanna use dnd bc. that’s already a tag I use jebdkdb #okay uh #dragon/defiant #also sb link might not be working wow I hate that site so much 😔#dragonmaster #writings

7 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 years

Text

Dishonorable Discharge

Series Summary: After the events of Civil War, Steve and his team are stuck in their compound. Following a mission, you disagree with your stalwart leader but he does not take kindly to your defiance.

Sequel to Insubordination, Pulling Rank, Misconduct, Furlough, and Take Cover

Chapter Description: The reader must make a decision; fight or flight.

Warnings: non-con/explicit sex, violence, mentions of birth control/contraceptives. Obviously 18+ (like this whole blog)

Note: Okay so we’ve come to the end of this series. (read the post script). A lot had happened and now we must accept what has come of it all. I hope you all enjoy this finale. Love you ❤

Thanks for reading. Feel free to send an ask, reblog, or reply of your thoughts:)

Your heartbeat rang in your ears as your footfalls filled the rhythm. Your entire being buzzed as you twisted and turned through the dim corridors of the Wakandan palace. Your knuckles still stung from the strike across Steve's jaw and your nerves flurried with the reality of what you had done. What did you do now? Where could you go?

You slid to a halt, out of breath as you almost fell against Wanda's door. You leaned on the wood heavily and tapped softly but frantically as you hissed. "Wanda, Wanda, please. Let me in. Wan--"

The door opened and you toppled over as it did. You grasped your chest as you tried to catch your breath. "I'm sorry but--but I did something. I--" Your voice cracked in your throat.

"Come on," Wanda gently touched your elbow and beckoned you inside. She closed the door, the lock clicked before she turned back to you. She put a hand on your back and led you to the love seat which faced an artificial hearth. "Tell me what happened?"

You sat and chewed your lip. Your hands shook and Wanda reached out to caress your raw and swollen knuckles. "You hurt him?"

"I think," You rasped, "I was so afraid, I didn't...I don't know why I did it." She turned your hand over and twined her fingers through yours. "He's going to kill me."

"No, he won't." She promised, "Not so long as I'm here."

She stroked your hand before she released it and stood. She left you for a moment and disappeared into the adjoined bathroom. She returned with a small box and sat beside you. The glow of the lamp on your other side limned her features remarkably. She opened the metal kit and set it between you. She daubed the split between your first and second knuckle with a cotton swab, the blood drying out quickly. Your entire hand throbbed.

“You should sleep,” She said quietly.

“No, what if--What if he comes looking for me?” You watched as she closed the box and tossed the used swab into the small bin beside the carved desk. “I couldn’t live with myself if he hurt you, too.”

“He can try,” She spoke in venomous tone as she neared again. “Now, you must rest.” Her hands cradled your face as she tilted your head to look you in the eye, “I promise, you will be safe.”

Her thumbs rested on your temples and a warmth seeped along your skull. Your eyelids sagged and your body went limp across the love seat. You fell into a deep slumber without another thought of Steve and your impending doom; Wanda’s gentle grip was the last thing you felt.

When you awoke, a pillow had been placed under your head and your legs were bent beneath a thin fleece blanket atop the short love seat. Despite its size, you were rather comfortable and for the first time in months, you did not awake more tired than the night before. The curtains were closed and the fireplace glimmered with artificial flames. Your vision slowly cleared as you looked around the room and memories of the night before flashed before you.

You sat up with a jolt and glanced around the room. Only early morning shadows and emptiness. You pushed the blanket off and stood. You checked in the adjoined washroom to find it just as vacant. You backed away and searched for any sign of Wanda. The small clock glowed in bright blue numbers; 10:34. It was later than you thought. Rarely did you sleep past six or seven,

The door handle turned and you turned to watch it open. Wanda entered with a smile, a covered plate in her hands. “You’re awake,” She greeted, “I brought you some food.”

“I...thank you,” You were confused. She acted as if all was well. As if you weren’t hiding from an enraged psychopath. She set the plate on the desk and waved to the chair.

“You should eat. You must be hungry,” She swept across the room and gently touched your elbow, “It’s very good. Some Wakandan spices I’ve never tasted before.”

“Wanda…” Your breath was barely a wisp.

“It is okay, Y/N,” She squeezed your elbow before releasing it, “He is hurt, that is certain. But he has done nothing.”

“Nothing?” You echoed.

“Please, sit, eat,” She urged, “Once you are finished, I will tell you.”

You sighed and reluctantly sat at the desk. You uncovered the plate of warm hash and a generous serving of scrambled eggs. There were some dark herbs and green veggies mixed in and the fluffy eggs were rich. You ate carefully at first but your appetite soon had you scraping the plate clean. Wanda offered you a glass of water as you chewed and you happily accepted. When at last you were done, she spoke.

“He did not make it so far as your room last night. Not even his own,” She explained, “They found him just outside the pool room. A servant discovered him in the corridor. He has a nasty bump and gash right along here,” She drew a line along her hair line. “And his lip is a bit swollen but he is otherwise intact.” A small grin curled her lips, “Everyone thinks he slipped on the tile...and he has not told them otherwise.”

You blinked at her in shock. “He didn’t...but...you know he will come for me.”

“He will not get you,” She vowed, “Not again. Not ever.”

“You don’t get it, Wanda, there is no place left for me. Not here, not back in the compound.” You brought your hands up to brace your neck as you felt the fire along your spine. “You can’t protect me.”

“I can and I will. This is not the man I swore my fealty to. I promised to fight for those who need it and I can do so without the noble Captain America,” She spat.

“No, I won’t have you throw it away. Not for me.” You pleaded, “This is my problem. Let me deal with it my way.”

“You’d ask me to stand back and watch him do this to you?” She asked, “I cannot do that.”

“No, I am asking you to let me make my own decision.” You countered, “It’s over, Wanda, I promise. I only ask that you let me end it myself.”

Her blue eyes sparkled as she looked you over. You stood and neared, taking her hands in yours. You flinched at the pang in your knuckles. She gave a sad smile. “Okay,” She relented, “I will let you do it your way...Take care of yourself.”

“I’ll do my best,” She drew you into and embrace and you welcomed it. It was the first ounce of love you had felt in months. The first time you had been touched without malice; resent; anger. “Thank you, Wanda.”

Shuri had offered her help. Thus you felt better when you ventured down to her lab and pulled her aside. Still, you felt as if you were leaning too heavily on her hospitality. Steve was your problem, not hers. You should deal with him yourself but how had that worked out for you so far? On your way down to the lab, you had dreaded running into him and dodged behind several statues thinking you heard another coming your way. Your paranoia was near crippling. You couldn’t live like this any longer.

You hadn’t offered her details. You hadn’t said much really. You had only asked that she procure you a jet for midnight. It would be enough time for you to prepare but not for Steve to catch on. Your chest filled with butterflies as you shook her hand and left her just as you found her. There was a wisdom in her young eyes. She may not know the situation exactly but she could see desperation as plain as day.

You walked along the curved path which led from one part of the lab to the next. Bucky was sat at a table tinkering with a gun as a wrinkle deepened along his brow. He looked up and you waved to him. The less time you spent here, the better. He waved back and smiled. You left him to his work and quickly found your way out to the hall; anxious to pack for your midnight escape.

You didn’t make it to the first corner. The last person you wanted to see appeared as he so often did. Steve’s left brow was swollen, a large purplish bruise from his hairline to the top of his eye. There was a gash along the the top of his forehead, fresh stitches woven through his flesh. You blanched and came to a sudden halt. He stopped and stared you down; his jaw tensed as he looked back at you.

You broke the standoff as you stepped back and spun around on your heel. You didn’t get more than a couple feet before he was on you. He grabbed your arm and shoved you against the wall, barely missing the nearby statue of a sleek wildcat which stood guard along the corridor. You wriggled and tried to free yourself from his grip, your fist was caught before you could meet with his injured face. He was ready this time.

“Not so fast, soldier,” He snarled, “I’ve been looking for you.”

“Fuck you,” You spat, “Get off of me.”

“You think you’re going to get off that easy?” He hissed as he forced your wrists against the wall beside your head. “You think you can just run away from me? Hooo, girl, you’ve got a lot to learn. You don’t even know the kind of shit you’ve just rained down on yourself.”

“I’ll scream,” You threatened, “And then I’ll tell everyone how you really got that little bruise of yours.”

“I dare you too,” His lip curled dangerously. “Go on, scream.”

You held his eyes as he called your bluff. You sighed and tugged on your wrists but he did not budge. “So what are you going to do? Bend me over right here in the hall?” He chuckled and released your wrists. He stayed close, looming over you so that you could not brush past him.

“My room, twenty-one hundred hours. Sharp,” He growled, “If you manage to get there on time, I may not leave you worse than you left me.”

“I’m going to kill you one day,” You whispered. At first you didn’t think he’d heard you but slowly his brows raised, a wince of pain as the stitches strained against his flesh. “You know that? I’m going to.”

He tilted his head, his jaw twitching as his pupils dilated with anger. “Not if I kill you first, you insolent little--”

“Steve?” Bucky’s voice scared you as he stood just outside the lab. “Hey.”

Steve backed away suddenly as if he hadn’t just been promising your death. He smiled, the shadow that had come over him dissipated in the air. He smiled at Bucky, “Hey, I was just on my way to see the king but I’ll be by the lab shortly.” His old friend seemed unfazed by the scene he had come upon, “Y/N was just asking about all this.” He laughed as he gestured to his face.

“I’d say it’s an improvement” Bucky joked, “And no rush. I’m still trying to figure out this stupid rifle.” He pointed over his shoulder through the lab door. “Take your time.”

“I won’t be long, Buck,” You watched as Steve patted Bucky’s shoulder and sidestepped him.

Silence pervaded the hallway as you watched the blonde super soldier march away. You were still against the wall. It was your only support. You were certain you would have crumpled to the floor without it. Finally, you glanced at Bucky who was staring at you in concern. The smile he had worn for his old comrade had faded.

“You okay?” He asked as he neared you. “What was that about?”

“Just wondering what happened to him,” You lied grimly as you turned to him. “Quite a number he did on himself.”

“Yeah, must’ve been a hell of a fall,” He remarked, “Managed to land completely on his head. No scrapes or bruises on his arms or legs. Just…” He ran a finger along his forehead, “The head.”

You stared at him. He knew it wasn’t a fall. It had been easy enough to guess. You shook your head and looked away in shame. “Yeah, it must’ve been.”

“I don’t think I’m worth it.” He said quietly. “Everything you’ve sacrificed. All of you...him.” You looked back to him as he hung his head, “I’m sorry. It’s my fault, all of it. I don’t deserve any of this. You don’t--Whatever he’s done to you, it must be horrible.”

Were you so transparent? Your heart seized and your lip trembled.

“Bucky…It’s not you, it’s him. He’s different now, I--I don’t know you as well as I should, but I know you were worth it. You deserve your life; happiness, if you can find it. You seem to have found that here...I just need to find mine.”

“You’re leaving.” He said plainly.

“I have to,” You replied in a small voice.

“I know you do, I just...wish it didn’t have to be like this. I was hoping--” He shrugged and sighed. “I’ll help you. I owe you that at least. I’ll keep him from stopping you.”

“You don’t have to--”

“Let me help, please. Just once, I wanna help.” His eyes wandered to your hand as you played with the hem of your shirt, “You must pack quite the right hook.”

“Not really. Good leverage,” You answered with a gulp. “Can I ask one more favour?”

“Anything,” He smiled. It was bittersweet. Forlorn, even. Things could’ve been different. You could’ve been friends. More than just fugitives in the same sinking ship.

“Help him. Help him find himself again.” You said, “I know he’s still there. The man I swore to follow. If he can help you remember, you can help him. I know it.”

“I hope he’s still there,” Bucky frowned, “I...Take care of yourself, Y/N.” He held out his hand and you accepted it. “I’ll tell Shuri to get the jet ready as soon as possible. He won’t wait till midnight.”

You let go of his hand and nodded. You made to turn back down the hall but stopped yourself halfway. “Does everyone know?”

“Just me,” Bucky assured, “I can tell when someone’s trapped. I’ve been there.”

“Please, don’t tell anyone.” You whispered.

“Your secret’s safe,” He tucked his hand into his pocket and looked over his shoulder at the lab door, “Now, you get out of here. I’ll keep him busy as long as I can. I’d say twenty minutes before he’s down with T’Challa, I can distract him for maybe an hour more.”

“Thank you, Bucky,” You felt the tears pooling along your eyelids as you turned and headed down the hall. They spilled as you turned the corner and a weight lifted from your chest. Even if it wasn’t truly freedom, you were free...almost.

You didn’t bother packing. You didn’t have the time or the necessity. The others were exploring the city and you were thankful that there were none to witness you sprint through the halls. The only thing you took were your passport and a hoodie. Everything else could be thrown away; phone, clothes, a single book you had brought for the flight. This life was over. You were growing used to leaving everything behind.

You checked your watch and said one last silent goodbye to the team. You stopped outside Wanda’s door and bowed your head. She was strong. She’d take care of everyone. They were all stronger than you. You exhaled and carried on. You kept to the halls on the opposite side of the palace until you found the staircase. You followed the steps until they stopped.

As you came up to the jet pad, the ship was fueling up. Shuri awaited you. You approached her as you waited for your cue.

“Five minutes, at most,” She said, “They don’t know, do they?”

“No,” You shook your head, “But I have to go.”

“Just know, there is always a place for you in Wakanda. Even without them.” She smiled kindly and touched your shoulder. “You don’t have to do this.”

You stared at her. She knew exactly where you were going. She didn’t need to ask. To be so wise at her age. Perhaps you’d never had ended up here. “Thank you, but I do.”

“The soldier will miss you.” She commented and you winced. “Not the Captain, the Sergeant. He...was happy to see you again.”

“If I’m lucky, it won’t be forever,” The jet door slowly began to descend and you glanced over in unison with the princess. “I don’t think the sentence for treason is that medieval these days.”

“I hope one day to see you again,” She looked back to you, “In happier times.”

“I hope so too, Princess.” You bent your head before you stepped away from her.

“Shuri,” She corrected you as you walked away. “Goodbye, Y/N.”

You walked up the ramp of the jet and took the seat closest to the pilot. It would be a long flight but you would not sleep. You knew that. You would rather watch the clouds as you enjoyed your last moments of liberation. As you fastened your belt, the pilot peeked back at you, his hands working expertly at the controls.

“Where to, Miss?” He asked, his accent made the words a melody.

“New York,” The words fluttered from your tongue and floated in the air before you.

You stared down at your worn passport. Your real one, not the fake one Shuri had forged for you. You examined the photo of you, though it was hard to believe it was you looking back. You felt older now; different. Everything had changed and you had not been immune to the passing of time. The girl in the picture had been young; hopeful. She had just been enlisted to work for the Captain America.

And now this fractured woman was running from him. You lifted your eyes to the looming giant. Stark Tower was as you remembered it. As lively as ever even if it had lost several of its former regulars. You inhaled the urban stench of the city and sighed. You listened to the sounds of traffic, the endless stampede of pedestrians, the whoops and out-of-tune music of panhandler. You put one foot up on the bottom steps and snapped closed your passport.

You pushed back your shoulders and urged yourself up the stairs. You slipped through the revolving door and past those rushing like ants around the lobby. You crossed to the elevator and a cloud of deja vu came over you. You remembered the first day you had ascended these heights. The first time you had stepped off on the very top floor. You almost felt the same twinkle of glee, though this one was far less bright.

As the doors opened, you were blinded by the fluorescent hues. You let out the breath you had been holding and forced yourself out of the elevator. You approached the round desk where the receptionist sat and you laid your passport before her.

“My name is Y/N and I have come to turn myself in for crimes of insubordination.” You declared. A shadow appeared in the corner of your eye and you turned to a familiar red-head in the doorway just to your left. James Rhodes appeared at Pepper Potts’ shoulder, the two of them in visible shock. Your lips curved just slightly before you spoke again, “Is Tony in?”

the end (for now)

Post script: For this series, I have opted to divided it into two overarching plots. In this first ‘book’ we will call it, we have watched the descent of both our reader and Steve Rogers following the fall out of Civil War. I feel comfortable in leaving this first installment as it stands as I focus on other fics in the meantime. I am content that we have a beginning, a middle, and an end which will allow us to put this down for the time being.

This first ‘book’ will be known as Insubordination and the second, which will not be complete for some time, is yet to be titled and will likely not be seen before the end of 2019. But I can say that it will take place during the events of Infinity War and Endgame and will bring us to our eventual and final end. I thank everyone for their time and patience. You have been wonderful!

tags: @meaganottiz02 @patzammit @thepettyavenger @biasedtitties @thosecikinnn @glitterypinkkitty @thoughtlesstales @selinbaskaya @lattaex @vitamingrant @lilithhellfire @bbyspiiice @ironlady1993 @blackpantherimagines @kweenkxtrina @heavenlyblyss @letsagomario @shikin83 @collette04 @thirstyforsomeyandere @secretlyactivated @xxm3xxj @roses-and-absinthe @asleep-amid-the-flowers @sunstarskyhappiness @xxxelettaxxx @honeyofthegods @rainbowkisses31 @alphabloodfur @xdatbitch @quant-um-fizzx @couldntbedamned @scarletlingeries @directionerfae @bodhi-black @kyllorren @captainarp @sargeant-bbarnes @tuyetnhivo @heartislubbingdubbing @kiwihoee @vanishingod @aekr @purpliepanda @arkhamsanity @lazinessisalliknow @grossceleste @fkngparadise @karabear0091 @jordysgirl87 @amelia-acero @praziameia @steadypetty @shayrey @spn-marvel-nerd @kissedbythedarkness @fandomkolors @biba3434 @marvel-fan23 @hannahxem @noteyebox @titty-teetee @irritatinglilliputian @educationalandphysicalmess @mochachoka @bemyvalentineforeverandever @thethortoisein221b @givemoimyuwusback @amazonian-strap-queen @tony-stank3 @criedwolfwritings @egirlfairy @roseplusess @breezy1415 @alexakeyloveloki @beautiful-and-strange @phoenix21love @momc95 @buckycaptspideypool @justballoonfishthings @ms-munchkin @whosmarisaaarw @kxllyxnnx @calspixie @imdiegohargreeves @satinprincessxo @amethyst-the-thot@docharleythegeekqueen @iiqueer-vibesii @carol-damn-vers @l0rd-disick @jilldsumner @hufflebucky @lanabanana-86 @nerdypinupcrystal @notyourtypicalrose @pink1031 @agent-spidey @wassupbitchesssss @lucifersnipnips @stuckybarton @ruff-m3rc @heartbeats-wildly @tea-with-seb @the-lululemon @abesottedlass @poppyshawn @obsesseds-world @jazztherebel @desir-ae @adreamemporium @ashrod98 @buckyxwintersxldier @buckybarneshairpullingkink @kastheabsolutepessimist @daggersofloki @odinson-barnes @marvelmaree @they-call-me-le @wintersoldier1017 @supernaturaldean67 @brokensunflowersworld @basementcafe @imkloeyjarvis @periodtcevans @averyrogers83 @sagechanoafterdark

850 notes · View notes

morganas-pendragons · 5 years

Text

Iron Maiden and her Little Miss | T.S.

I love this gif.

So someone - @libraryoffandomsuniverse - requested a part two to this Tony Stark oneshot. You’re gonna want to read that before you read this. I loved writing it so much that I decided to do it again! Requests are open! I hope to publish at least two oneshots a day!

Tagging: @ursae---majoris (sorry beatriz, you’re getting tagged in everything now)

prompt: reader meeting morgan after the events of endgame + bonding time over their shared love of their father

It’s hard to not be intimidated by a little girl you’d never met. Tony hadn’t mentioned her in the short time you’d seen each other during the battle, but Pepper had told you about her afterward. Morgan. They’d gotten married in the five years that passed after the first snap and had Morgan not long after you and Peter had disappeared.

You see her at the funeral, wrapped in the arms of her mother. She very clearly sees you too, and it’s hard not to recognize the similarities between the two of you even though you’re only half siblings - There’s so much of you in her physical appearance, but the eyes... The eyes are so much like your father that looking into them makes your heart break just a little bit more then it already has.

Happy Hogan is the one who convinces you to take that extra step with a generous offer of whatever amount of cheeseburgers you want. You’ve known him since you were a child, and he’s pretty much seen you grow up, so it’s hard to deny him when he’s one of the last pieces of your childhood.

“And besides,” He gestured down to the gauntlet on your arm that you’d refused to take off upon arriving at the cabin for Tony’s funeral. It felt like you were letting go of him if you did. “Iron Maiden will need her Little Miss someday.”

Morgan was the first one to reach out. You’d taken claim of your fathers lab in the basement of their home and began tinkering on the Iron Maiden armor well into the early hours of the morning after his funeral. Just as you’d inherited his genius, you also had Tony’s infamous plague of insomnia.

You also had his plague of nightmares reoccurring behind your eyes when you shut them. His smile. His hands, the way he listened to you sing him to his death-

“Y/N? What’re you doing?”

Your eyes slowly shift upward to meet hers, and the breath catches in your throat. Gods, she looks so small standing there, arms wrapped around her Iron Man teddy. “Hi sweetpea. I’m working on the suit Daddy built me. Why are you up? It’s-’’ Peering over the counter, you grimace as the clock flashes 1:15 AM. “Way past your bedtime.”

Morgan rubs her eyes and her bottom lip juts out. “I had a bad dream. And Daddy,” Both of you fall silent as she struggles to figure out what to say to you. “Daddy always kept my bad dreams away.”

You smile softly. “Daddy kept my bad dreams away too, sweetpea. He was good at that.” You reply, standing from your work station and extending your arms to her. “C’mon. I think I’ve got an idea.”

She sprints toward you and throws herself into your embrace with reckless abandon, and your heart sinks because she is so young and will have to learn to grow up in a world that didn’t have an Iron Man like yours had.

“When I was little, Daddy used to make these.” You flicked through the Stark Tech tablet and projected a folder of videos labeled Y/N Stark onto the wall. “They’re called home videos. He and Mom liked to record them whenever I did something.. Like my first word or my first step.” Morgan gasped as you played a video from 2008 - the first time you’d wandered into the lab while Tony had been testing the Mark II. “In this case, when Daddy built his first suit of armor.”

“That’s him!” She shrieked. “That’s Iron Man!” Morgan jabbed a finger at the image you’d paused on - Tony in all his glory, smiling so brightly as he bent down in the armor and tossed you into the air. You remembered it well. How free you’d felt. How loved. “That’s our daddy!”

Our Daddy.

“You wanna see yours now?”

When Pepper came down the following morning to a silent house, she had assumed that Morgan had woken in the middle of the night and came searching for you. What she didn’t expect was to see her curled up in your arms, head resting against your chest as she slept. Your eyes remain fixated on the wall as another video continued playing - The ones that had been made while you and Peter had been gone.

“Hey sweetie. How long have you been at this now?”

Your eyes snap open and meet her own as she pauses the video. “Uh.. what time is it?”

“Half past ten.”

Laughter breaks past your lips at the statement. “Nine hours.” You reply. You still can’t bring yourself to tear your eyes away from the image of Morgans first Christmas with Pepper and Tony. It’s so innocently sweet and so peaceful that you almost wish you had the Time Stone so you could rewind and let him live through those five years again if it meant your father could have the happiness he’d craved. “It was nice though, getting to see these again. Getting to see him.”

“Oh Y/N,” Pepper bent down and placed a kiss on the crown of your head. “I know you didn’t hear it from him when you saw him, but Tony was so proud of you. He left you to be the embodiment of Iron Man in his place. That’s why he installed-” She tilted her head and focused her gaze on your gauntlet. “Have you used the AI feature yet?”

Now that you were thinking about it, you hadn’t had the pleasure.

“No, I don’t think I have. Why? What is it-”

“I think you should start talking to your AI. Maybe it’ll help you build the blueprints for Little Miss’ armor she’ll wear someday.” Pepper takes Morgan from your arms and slowly ascends the stairs to make breakfast, and you’re once again alone in the basement.

Trembling fingers lift to the screen of your gauntlet, and with a flick of your finger, you’re left looking at the hologram of the AI your father built for you into your suit.

Tears run down your face as he stares back at you, his eyes so similar to his physical appearance, and he smiles before crossing his arms over his chest and lowering the Aviator sunglasses to the bridge of his nose.

“Hi sweetpea. You ready to start building Little Miss’ Armor?”

#Tony Stark #Tony Stark x Daughter!Reader #Morgan Stark #Tony Stark x Reader #Tony Stark x You #Iron Man x Daughter!Reader #Iron Man x Reader #Marvel Imagines #Marvel Oneshots #Marvel Fanfiction #Marvel Fanfic #Avengers Fanfic #Avengers Fanfiction

241 notes · View notes

valentines-in-london · 5 years

Text

I Need Fire (Part 9)

Gif by @looks--that--kill

Authors Note: Our lovebirds are back together and it’s Chrismas time! I hope you enjoy this chapter, I really enjoyed writing it! Your feedback is always welcome, I’m like tinker bell feedback gives me life haha!! Word Count: 6,097 Warnings: candy floss fluff, sex talk (but not graphic) Taglist: @freddiessmallnipples @triplehaitches @samanthadegaro @lauravic If you’d like to be added please let me know! Previous Chapter Master List

Chapter 9

The next day Rayne stood outside the studio where she said goodbye to Tommy almost a month ago. The weather still hadn’t warmed up, as it was still morning, so Rayne stood on the corner wrapped up in one of Tommy’s leather jackets. She couldn’t believe the day was finally here, she’d made it through one month without feeling his embrace. In a way she was happy about their separation because it proved to her that she could be apart from him and not wither away, which the more dramatic part of her sometimes thought she would.

Rayne’s head perked up when she saw the bus turn the corner and head towards where she and Jo were standing. She smiled so wide she could feel her cheeks starting to hurt. It felt like an eternity for the bus to finally stop and make its way to the curb in front of the studio but when the bus was put into park and the door opened the first person off was the one she wanted to see most.

Tommy jumped from the top stair down to the concrete pavement in one quick movement and rushed to wrap his arms around Rayne. He gripped her like he was afraid she would disappear and Rayne returned the embrace and she soon felt her feet leave the ground. Remaining in silence Tommy gently rocked back and forth, moving his chin from off her shoulder to face Rayne gazing into her eyes. The two shared a smile before their lips met in a tender kiss. Rayne cradled Tommy’s face in her hands as the two pulled away from each other. “My beautiful fiery girlfriend.”

“My beautiful romantic boyfriend.” Rayne smiled back at Tommy as he put her back down on the ground.

“You are real right?” Tommy laughed running his fingers through Rayne’s red hair. “I dreamt about you every night.”

“Oh I’m very real.” Rayne nudged Tommy’s nose with her own. “I’m sure they were nice PG rated dreams right?”

“Oh they most definitely were not.” Tommy laughed while his hands traveled down her back and giving her ass a squeeze. “Let’s grab my bags and we can head back to the condo.” Rayne nodded and the two made their way to collect Tommy’s bags. Tommy said his goodbyes to the tour bus driver before giving a quick goodbye to the band and Doc.

Tommy and Rayne walked into the condo fifteen minutes later. Both of them dropped the dufflebags that the two of them were shouldering down on the floor. Tommy’s eyes drifted to the kitchen counter, “Is that a Charlie Brown Christmas tree?”

Rayne laughed hiding her face, “Yeah. I love Christmas and couldn’t bear to see the place without some decorations. So I got us stockings and some lights strung up in the bedroom.”

“You’re adorable.” Tommy smiled down at her. “Why don’t we get a real tree?”

“Really?” Rayne’s eyes lit up, “I’ve never had an actual Christmas tree before. Jo hates cleaning up the pine needles and watering it. And my family didn’t really celebrate Christmas as a kid.”

“What? That’s like against the law or something.” Tommy was shocked at her revelation.

“Yeah it’s not a big deal.” Rayne shrugged it off.

“Then it’s settled, tomorrow we get a tree, and some lights and ornaments because I don’t have any of that.” He gave Rayne a quick peck on the lips.

“Tomorrow? Why not today?” Rayne questioned before squealing as Tommy picked her up suddenly.

“I’m not leaving this house for the rest of the day or night. We’ve only had sex in the bedroom, which means we still have the kitchen, the living room, the outside patio and the bathroom. That means we have lots of rooms to christen.” Tommy teased.

“The outside patio? Tommy we are not fucking outside, we have neighbors.” Rayne pointed a finger at Tommy.

“You said you wouldn’t fuck me in a public bathroom either and that changed.” Tommy quickly kissed Rayne hovering over her.

“No, no! We did not fuck. You hand cuffed me in the stall…” “And I got you off so well on my fingers you actually squirted, for the first time ever I might add.” Rayne rolled her eyes. “Am I wrong?” Conceding her defeat Rayne admitted, “No.”

“Just be wild baby. I think you really want to be, but are too afraid to let it go. Who gives a fuck if our neighbors see us fucking? I want them to, they can be jealous because I’m the one who gets to fuck you and no one else.” He winked at her.

“Charming Tommy.” She laughed wrapping her arms around him before adding playfully, “I’m more than just a piece of meat you know!”

“Oh I know that baby. Your personality and heart are why I love you, the fact that you’re a beautiful sex goddess is just a very nice added bonus.” Tommy ran his finger up and down her neck until he hooked it under her chin lifting her head up. “I’d love to make up for lost time, if you’ll have me.”

Rayne lifted her head and captured Tommy’s lips in a passionate kiss. “I’ll have you.” Rayne winked before grabbing Tommy’s collar and dragging him towards the couch in the living room.

After checking off two places on their “condo bucket list” the two took a small nap before they both woke up a tangled mess of sheets. Tommy grinned and started massaging Rayne’s scalp making her moan at his touch. “I’ve missed this.”

“Me too.” Tommy whispered reaching for his pack of cigarettes with his free hand taking one and offering a second to Rayne. He effortlessly lit both with his lighter. “You especially learn how special this is when you share a room with Nikki every single night for a month.”

Rayne laughed, “Well I’m glad I can pull rank over Nikki in that department. I definitely think I had it easier in that regard, I just had to listen to a moaning Jo.”

“Yeah I’d rather listen to that.” Tommy nodded his head before Rayne smacked him on the chest. “You perv!”

“What? I’d rather hear a girl moaning while getting off than a farting, puking Nikki any day of the week.” Tommy said so innocently before turning to Rayne. “I could listen to you moan and scream all day every day. It’s one of my favorite sounds. We might have to put you on a record one day.”

“What? No! Tommy you’re crazy. That won’t happen.” Rayne shook her head as Tommy began pushing himself off the bed. “Where are you going?”

“I totally spaced dude, I have something for you.” Tommy got up and Rayne watched as his naked form disappeared from sight.

“God Tommy you got a pair of chicken legs. I’ll gladly give you some of mine if you want it.” Rayne called out, resting on her side.

“Nope, you’re perfect the way you are. Everything about you should stay as is.” Tommy called from the living room, she heard his voice approaching and getting closer. When he came back in he held something behind his back.

“What do you have there?” Rayne narrowed her eyes as Tommy approached her on the bed. With a wide grin Tommy pulled out a long black box.

“Just something to show you I missed you.” Tommy replied softly sitting beside her.

“Tommy I know you missed me, you didn’t have to get me anything to show me that.” Rayne said genuinely, sitting up in bed grabbing the sheets to cover herself.

“I wanted to.” He spoke tenderly and Rayne lifted herself up to give him a kiss on the lips. She looked down at the box and Tommy slowly opened it causing her to gasp. She was looking at a beautiful silver necklace with a large sparkling star at the end. “I know Christmas is in a few days but I wanted to give this to you now.”

“Tommy it’s beautiful. I can’t accept that, I’m sure it cost a lot of money!” Rayne said, her voice no more than a hushed whisper. Tommy took it out of the box, holding it out in front of Rayne.

“You will accept it, for me.” Tommy grinned. “It’s the least I could do for you. May I?”

Rayne gently nodded her head, bringing her hair up in both of her hands exposing her neck and causing the sheet to fall and pool around her waist. Tommy leaned forward to bring the necklace around her neck and clasping it at the back. When he looked at her Rayne swore she had never seen anyone look at her like the way Tommy did, wish such love and adoration. He didn’t even need to speak he just let out a rush of breath and smiled brightly. “Tommy stop looking at me like that, you’re making me self conscious! I’m not good with receiving gifts as it is.”

“I just want to remember this moment forever.” Tommy smiled leaning in to kiss Rayne, slowly easing her back down onto the bed as he settled on top of her.

The next day the two found themselves dragging a Christmas tree into the condo, and pine needles dropped everywhere as they pulled it through the door. “Who would’ve thought a tree would need so much.” Tommy huffed as he dropped the tree on the floor.

“Well when you have to buy everything new, yeah. We needed a tree stand, ornaments, tree lights, a star, and your damn tinsel.” Rayne laughed grabbing the various bags of necessities for the tree she had brought up before they hauled the thing in.

“But the tinsel was so shiny.” Tommy smiled innocently.

Rayne returned his smile, she had always wanted a real Christmas tree just like in all her favorite movies. She knew it was a silly desire but she’d never had the opportunity to have a tree until this moment. “Here put the tree in the stand and I’ll sweep up all of the needles that dropped.”

“Should I cut the net off?” Tommy questioned looking down at the tree.

“No I would keep it on, it’ll probably be easier to pick it up. Wait haven’t you had a tree before?” Rayne questioned as she swept up the needles.

“Yeah but my dad always put it up.” Tommy defended his question as he picked up the and set it into the stand. “Wow, that’s actually not ba-“

“Tommy!” Rayne shouted as the tree fell down onto the living room floor, immediately she burst out into laughter. It took about three minutes for both of them to compose themselves. “Tommy!” Rayne gasped holding her stomach which hurt from laughing. “Tommy you have to tighten the swivel thing to the tree trunk before you just put it in there.”

“Oh. Shit, you’re right.” Tommy chuckled reaching down to grab the swivel and tighten it to the trunk. This time when Tommy placed the tree in the stand it stood tall and sturdy.

“We’re a mess.” Rayne shook her head approaching Tommy and giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Now you can cut the net off, and once the tree settles we can start putting our ornaments on. I can’t believe we found black, red and purple ones.”

“I can’t believe you know so much about trees.” Tommy smiled cutting the netting off of the tree while Rayne scooped up the needles and got rid of them in the trashcan. “By the way since we’re talking about Christmas I wanted to ask you something.”

“Yeah?”

“Would you want to spend Christmas day with me and my family in Covina?” He asked. “I know you probably do something with Jo, but it would mean a lot to me.”

Rayne smiled, “Jo and I usually just watch movies on Christmas, neither of us talk with our families very much. Let me call her and see if she’s okay with me going. I don’t want to just bail on her.”

“I understand.” Tommy replied genuinely. Rayne walked over to the kitchen, picking up the phone and dialing the number to her apartment.

“Hello?” Jo answered out of breath.

“Hey it’s Rayne. I won’t keep you long but I had a question for you.” Rayne asked hearing Jo hush someone to be quiet, it didn’t take a rocket science to know what was going on. Rayne genuinely did not know how Jo and Vince could still possibly be going at it.

“What’s up?” Jo giggled.

“Well, Tommy wanted me to go to his family’s house for Christmas. I know we usually spend the day together so I wanted to as-“ Rayne started before Jo cut her off. “Oh I’m so glad you’re asking me this! Vince wanted me to spend the day with him, but I didn’t want to leave you alone.”

“Is this what being an adult is? Giving up Christmas traditions with your best friend for your boyfriend?” Rayne laughed.

“No, you and I will always have our traditions. And unfortunately for you, you’re stuck with me forever no matter what guys are in our lives.” Jo said happily.

“Well I’ll let you get back to whatever activities you two are doing.” Rayne began to hang up the phone before she heard Jo shout from the other end of the phone. “Wait, wait Ray! Ray!”

“What?” Rayne asked.

“Aren’t you gonna thank me?” Jo asked. “For what?” “Well, you were sex ready right?”

“Goodbye Jo.” Rayne laughed hearing her best friend laugh on the other end as well. Rayne turned to Tommy with a smile. “Well drummer, it looks like I’m gonna meet your parents.” She paused. “And just saying that out loud makes me wanna throw up.”

“Why?” Tommy patted the couch cushion next to him. Rayne sat down and just stared ahead to the wall.

“I’ve never met any boyfriends parents before.” Rayne realized. She knew Tommy really loved his family, he had told her many times about his mother and father and how they met and it was love at first sight.

“Rayne, I love you. And so will they.” Tommy wrapped his arm around Rayne comforting her. Rayne took a deep breath and nodded her head.

“I’ll try not to freak out.” Rayne honestly replied.

“There’s nothing to freak out about. I promise they’ll love you, my sister will definitely love how sarcastic you are. Come on, let’s start decorating the tree and distract you so you don’t have a panic attack.” Tommy gently pulled on her sleeve.

“I’m not having a panic attack!” Rayne defended, “Or if I am it’s just a very mild one.”

“Hey, do you trust me?” Rayne nodded her head softly. “Good, I’m telling you there’s nothing to worry about.”

Four Days Later

Christmas Day

Rayne walked up to Tommy’s front door and dropped the filled bags on the ground before pulling out her keys inserting them into the lock. Opening the door Rayne grabbed one bag and placed it onto the apartment. As she reached down to pick up the other bag Tommy rushed towards her, “Babe I would’ve grabbed those for you.”

“Nah it’s alright I got it.” Rayne smiled bringing in the next bag over the threshold. “It’s like I’m a living breathing Mrs. Clause.”

Tommy smiled at the statement taking in Rayne’s outfit, she was in a red dress with a high neckline but a deep cut out at the back, which exposed her creamy skin. The dress hugged her curves but still flowed and wasn’t too tight. The outfit was topped off with a pair of black pumps. “Looking like that, you are definitely on the naughty list.”

Rayne shot up straight, “Is it too much? I wasn’t sure what to wear but I tried to not wear anything too risqué.”

Tommy smiled placing his hands on both of her shoulders. “You look perfect.”

Rayne smiled and let out a sigh of relief. She spent the night before looking at different outfits to wear to meet Tommy’s family in. She didn’t want to just show up in jeans and a t-shirt or leather pants. She wanted to make a good impression. Tommy was even a bit dressed up for the day, he wore a black button down dress shirt and a nice pair of blue jeans. Rayne smiled up at him, “Thank you. Let me put your gifts under the tree.”

Tommy let Rayne put the gifts out, even though they could just as easily have opened gifts from the bag she was holding but he knew this meant a lot to her so he let her go. “Babe are all those for me? You didn’t have to get me anything. As long as I get to unwrap you at the end of the night I’m happy.”

“We’re staying at your parents house tonight Tommy, we’re not having sex there!” Rayne laughed continuing to place the presents.

“I think my favorite thing is you telling me we can’t have sex in certain places, and then we end up having sex in that exact place.” Tommy grinned.

“And you said I was on the naughty list. If what you just described is the case I should be on the nice list.” Rayne smiled before standing up and hanging Tommy’s filled stocking next to hers, which Rayne was surprised was filled. “Okay. All done. Open your presents!”

“No, no you go first.” Tommy insisted walking towards the couch with a garbage bag in hand for all discarded paper and taking a seat, leaning forward so his elbows rested on his knees. He also reached for the camera which was sitting on the table in front of him.

“Okay.” Rayne smiled wide grabbing her stocking and sitting down on the floor. As she began to look through the stocking Tommy haulted her, “Oh hang on!” Tommy came back with a leopard print Santa hat, handing it to Rayne. “If you’re opening the presents you have to wear the hat.” Rayne smiled and happily took the hat from him settling it over her mass of curls. She began looking through the stocking to find various little items, everything from nail polish and makeup, to razors and candy. “My sister told me the best things to put in a stocking were every day things that are annoying to buy for yourself. Plus I figured you could keep a lot of them here.”

Rayne pushed herself onto her knees and gave Tommy a hug, “Thank you Tommy.”

“You’re welcome.” He smiled back happily. “I feel bad I didn’t get you a lot of gifts.”

“No Tommy, don’t feel bad. You’ve been a little busy the past month. And the necklace is more than enough.” Rayne smiled placing her hand over the star diamond he had given her. Rayne reached for the first present and began to open it up. She lifted the lid off the box and smiled when she saw what it was. She pulled it completely out of the box and revealed a long sleeve black blouse that had skulls on it like polka dots. The fabric was see through and extremely soft. “Tommy I love it!”

“Jo helped a little.” Tommy said bashfully.

“Oh she did, did she?” Rayne smiled. “Well thank you both.”

Rayne reached for another box that felt significantly lighter than the previous one. Tommy perked up as she began to open it. Lifting the lid off this box Rayne immediately shut it blushing up at Tommy. “I think you bought this for you.”

“Maybe a little.” He grinned at her as she finally removed the lid looking at what was in it. It was a lingerie set. Inside there was a see through lacy red bra, what looked like a soft waist cincher, crotchless lacy underwear and suspenders to hold her thigh high stockings up.

“This is gorgeous Tommy. Even though you’ll be the only one who’ll ever see it.” Rayne chuckled.

“Don’t say that, I kind of like the idea of you out at work with this underneath your scrubs.”

“God you’re such a horn dog.” Rayne shook her head before reaching for the last gift that had her name on it. This one was a little big bigger, as Rayne took the wrapping paper off she saw it was a frame but she had opened it on the wrong side, when she turned it around her jaw dropped. “Tommy, how did you?”

Her eyes couldn’t leave the frame in front of her. It was a photo that had a quote written in cursive from Pride & Prejudice it read, I can not fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun. Under the text was three photos of Tommy and Rayne together out at various nights on the sunset strip. One was from the first time she had seen Motley Crue. Another was from Halloween, after their bathroom escapade. Another was one Jo took of them at Rayne’s apartment. And the final one was one Tommy had taken of the two of them after they had sex for the first time, luckily you couldn’t tell they were naked from the way the photo was cropped. The gift was stunning and left Rayne utterly speechless and her eyes started to water.

“I remembered Jo saying that you loved Jane Austen and I did some digging and I really liked that quote. It reminded me of you because it’s true. I was head over heels before we even spoke.” Tommy said leaning forward gently wiping a fallen tear from Rayne’s cheek. “I thought we could put it up in the bedroom.”

Rayne simply cradled his hand against her cheek before she got up and sat in Tommy’s lap wrapping her arms around his neck. “I love you so much Tommy. How did I get so lucky?”

“I’m the lucky one.” Tommy smiled up at her before giving her a soft pat on the hips.

“I’m warning you right now, there’s nothing as good as that in those boxes.” Rayne pointed towards the wrapped gifts she brought Tommy. Tommy grinned as she took the Santa hat off her head and placed it on his.

“I meant what I said, all I need is you and I am a happy man.” Tommy declared as Rayne shifted off his lap. Rayne sat on the couch and grabbed the camera ready to take photos of Tommy as he opened his gifts just as he had done with her.

“Now it’s your turn.” Rayne smiled as Tommy took a seat on the floor grabbing his stocking. Rayne had filled it with lots of travel sized items that he could bring with him out on the road. She had kind of did exactly what Tommy did and filled it with various every day items that he could use when he was out on the road. After his stocking, Tommy reached for the closest wrapped gift to him. Almost all of the gifts Rayne has gotten Tommy had a theme to them. It was a small box and as he opened it he smiled immediately, he pulled out a pair of dangling earrings that had a large spike attached to the end.

“Oh yes! I love these!” Tommy exclaimed happily running his hand up and down Rayne’s calf.

Tommy continued to open his presents to reveal various clothing items and accessories that he could wear on stage or just day to day. Rayne had gotten him belts that were studded and spiked and covered in bullets. She’d gotten him silver bracelets and bangles, chokers and necklaces. She even got him a nice wide brimmed hat after she had seen Tommy steal one from Jo one night after a show. “Tommy I’m not gonna lie shopping for you is kinda like shopping for a woman. The girl that helped me at Retail Slut was very happy with her commission.”

Tommy let out a laugh, “What can I say I like clothes and jewelry.” He reached for the last gift under the tree.

“Okay, I really hope you like this one. There’s a story behind it.” Rayne confessed as Tommy pulled out the large box. First he shook the box trying to get an idea for what was inside. When he couldn’t get a read on it because it was mostly silent he began to tear off the paper. When the box was revealed the name Poison Ivy was engraved at the top. Rayne watched as the name didn’t register with Tommy, and he opened the box and it was time for his jaw to drop. Rayne watched as Tommy pulled out the leather jacket. It was a little long for a jacket, it would most likely fall just past Tommy’s hips especially with his torso being so long. The jacket was lined with traditional leopard print and it also was on the lapels of the jacket. On the shoulders were a few draped chains and star studs on the lapels.

“This is fuckin sick dude.” Tommy stood up and put the coat on, it looked amazing on him, just the way she imagined. Tommy walked over to the bathroom where there was a decent sized mirror. He rushed out with a giant smile on his face and picked Rayne up. “Where did you get this?”

Rayne recalled the story of how she reached out to Doc asking for the designer that was designing their stage clothes and how she went to the studio not knowing if she would even be able to work anything out with the older man. “So you designed this?”

“Well I didn’t design it, I had the idea in my head and Stanley designed it.” It looked perfect on him. “You better be happy he’s gay Tommy because I think he’s a little in love with me, you might have had some competition.”

“That guy was like sixty, if I remember correctly.” Tommy chuckled throwing his head back. “And what do you mean he’s a little in love with you?”

“Hey he’s cute for an older man!” Rayne defended him before going into the story from when she returned to the design studio to pick up Tommy’s jacket.

Three Days Before December 22nd

Rayne walked into the studio a little after 6pm, she walked there from the hospital. The little bell above the door jingled to signal her presence. This time there was a tall thin blonde man at the front desk. “Hi can I help you?”

“I’m here to pick up a jacket from Stanley.” Rayne answered before hearing the older man’s voice from the back.

“Is that my beautiful red head?” She recognized his voice instantly before he appeared in front of her. “Yes there she is.”

He approached her and opened his arms. She leaned down slightly and he kissed her on both cheeks. “Ronnie, look at this girl. Isn’t she the most inspirational figure you’ve ever seen?”

Rayne instantly felt her cheeks heat up. “Oh, no I’m not.” She brushed off the compliment.

“Hush darling. Come on back, wait til you see what I have done for you.” Stanley waved her back into the studio. She smiled at the blonde at the desk and followed him back. As she walked back into the room where she had first met him she saw the jacket immediately.

“Oh my god it’s perfect!” Rayne gasped as she approached the jacket and immediately touched the soft leather and silky leopard lining. “You’re amazing!”

“Thank you my love. You deserve some credit too, the idea was in your head, I just created it.” He theatrically bowed at her praise. “But that’s not all I made.”

“Huh?” Rayne asked watching as he disappeared down the hallway before a few minutes later wheeling out a mannequin in his left hand and a cart with a few items of clothing on hangers in his right. “I made some things for you too.”

“Oh, no. Mr. Varone I’m flattered but I told you, I can’t afford tha-“

“My darling listen to me, I have not been so inspired in years. I’ve designed the same types of clothing for far too long. I lost my passion for it because of the monotony of it all, everyone looking the same, and dressing the same. Then you walked into my studio and it was like a cloud lifted. As soon as you left that day I began designing clothing inspired by you, I created a mannequin with your exact measurements. The clothes are seductive, womanly and edgy. Please just do me the honor of trying some of the pieces on.” Stanley asked and Rayne immediately softened to the ask.

“Okay, I’ll try them on. But only because you did such an amazing job on Tommy’s jacket.” She said pointedly at him.

“Bellissima!” He explained taking something off the rack. He held it out to Rayne and showed her to the dressing room. She looked at the outfit in front of her and was unsure if it would work on her body. It was a short leather and lace dress, mostly lace, with the leather covering up all the necessary bits, the lace even went all the way down to transition into a pair of gloves. Rayne was almost afraid to even touch the garment it looked so expensive. But soon she was removing her clothes and slipping into the dress. She was unable to zip it up and didn’t dare look in the mirror she just walked out to the main floor.

“I couldn’t zip it.” She said to Stanley who looked like he was about to cry. She immediately thought to herself, Oh god was it that bad? See this was why she didn’t want to try anything on, a dress this revealing should be put on someone who was stick thin. Stanley approached Rayne who turned her back to him and he slowly zipped up the dress and took a step back.

“Oh my word. My darling you are exquisite! Look at yourself.” The older man said pulling a full length mirror in front of her. Rayne looked at herself in utter shock. She didn’t look awful, she didn’t look like herself but she didn’t look awful, the dress fit her like a glove, and everything was covered that she wanted to be covered.

“I-I don’t even recognize myself.” Rayne said softly looking at herself.

“May I take a photo of you in the dress?” Stanley asked politely.

“Sure.” Rayne said still slightly stunned as Stanley grabbed a very expensive looking camera and began snapping a few photos.

Rayne tried on a few more outfits, one that was a leather jacket paired with an almost see through skirt that had fringe strategically placed that looked incredible as she walked. Another was a suede studded jacket that was tailored in at the waist and a high pencil skirt that the studs continued down. She also tried on two pairs of leather pants, she had never had a pair that fit her right so to have ones that were literally custom fit to her body was kind of insane. The final dress she tried on was a little less edgy, it was a loose wrap dress that showed a lot of leg and a lot of boobs but had a small train on the back the colors were a mix of light blue and pink almost like cotton candy. It was almost angelic with how it moved. “I don’t know what to say Stanley. These are beautiful, I don’t know how I could possibly inspire such beauty.”

“Darling, do me the honor of wearing the clothes. All I ask is that if anyone asks you where it’s from you let them know about me. Who knows maybe if your boyfriend gets famous I’ll be able to design full clothing lines inspired by you. You could model in the shows for me. You could bring my fashion house back from the grave.” Stanley put a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Oh no, I’m no model.” Rayne chuckled, “I’m not seeing many girls with a true hour glass figure on runways or in magazines.”

“And that’s why we should change it! Shake up the status quo. I’m telling you, with a face like yours and a body like yours we could do this. You’re one hundred percent natural and that’s what I want to start pushing out to the world.” Stanley spoke passionately. “And doesn’t the model and the rockstar couple sound just perfect?”

Rayne let out a laugh before looking down at herself in the dress. “I just don’t feel right taking these from you. You’re the second person to try and gift me something I wasn’t expecting. I’m no good at accepting gifts.”

“They’re my gift to you beautiful. You must take them, I’ll have it no other way.” He held his palms up in front of him. “You honor me by wearing them.”

When Rayne got herself out of the dress and changed back into her normal clothes to say she felt much less glamorous was an understatement. “Welcome back,” she spoke to herself as she looked in the mirror. She exited the dressing room to be immediately greeted by a smiling Stanley and Ronnie, who was holding multiple bags in his hand. “Here you are darling.”

“How much do I owe you for the jacket?” Rayne questioned grabbing her wallet.

“Nothing, these are my gift to you.” Stanley smiled.

“No! Absolutely not, we discussed my budget and I intend to pay for what I commissioned.” Rayne said almost offended that he was just going to gift all of this to her.

“I simply won’t allow it darling.” The older man shook his head. Rayne saw he absolutely wouldn’t budge so she reached over the counter of the reception desk and grabbed a pen and piece of paper, scribbling down her phone number before handing it to him. “Call me if there’s ever anything I could do for you Stanley. I don’t know what I could do to repay you for all this but I’ll do my best.”

Stanley took the piece of paper from her and held it over his heart. “I’ll do that. You've given me a true gift tonight.”

“Thank you so much again.” Rayne smiled giving both men a friendly hug.

“Goodnight darling!” Stanley kissed her cheek before she turned and walked out of the studio.

“See baby, I told you, you’re perfect just the way you are. I wish you could see you how I do, or how Stanley does.” Tommy smiled wrapping his arm around Rayne’s waist. “Is this one of the dresses?”

“Oh god no! I’m not meeting your parents for the first time in one of those dresses, they would probably say ‘who the hell does this girl think she is,’ and that’s not the impression I’m going for. I will however happily show them off to you when we get back from their place tomorrow.” Rayne smiled up at him. “This was just something I got from a thrift store.”

“Yep, I’m definitely going to want you to show them off for me.” Tommy kissed her lips tenderly. “Thank you so much for all the gifts baby. I really love them.”

“You’re welcome. And thank you for mine.” Rayne stood on the tips of her toes to kiss him once more.

“Are you ready to go?” Tommy questioned slipping the dufflebag over his shoulder, “It’s almost noon and that means mom is gonna start putting out lunch soon.”

“As I’ll ever be.” She chuckled. “Did you remember to throw some stuff for me to wear in your duffle bag?”

“I did.” Tommy grinned devilishly.

“Oh I don’t trust that look at all, what did you pack? Or not pack?” Rayne questioned reaching for the duffle bag to look through it.

“I’m hurt. How could you think I wouldn’t pack appropriate clothes for you?” He held his hand over his heart feigning being offended.

“Tommy I swear by all that’s holy, there better be normal clothes in there for me.” Rayne spoke watching as Tommy made his way to the front door holding it open. Rayne sighed and walked through the door under Tommy’s arm. Well worse case scenario, if he pulled some stunt and didn’t pack anything normal to wear she could always wear the dress she was in today home tomorrow. That might be the best plan, because by the look of his strut he was definitely up to something.

Take Me To The Next Chapter

---

There you have it! They’re reunited and creating some Christmas traditions of their own! What was everyone’s favorite part of this chapter? I love to know what resonates with you all! What do you think of the (potential) model and the rock star? Here are some photos of the inspiration behind the outfits Rayne wore in this chapter. As always feedback is appreciated, leave me a reply or message or ask<3

#I NEED FIRE #The Dirt #the dirt fanfic #the dirt imagine #Motley Crue #motley crue fanfic #motley crue imagine #fanfic #fan fiction #original story #fashion #model #rockstar #Tommy Lee #tommy lee x oc #tommy lee imagine #christmas

53 notes · View notes

weartirondad · 5 years

Note

Could u write a thing about Tony getting more personal interns and Peter gets jealous? Maybe he feels like Tony's replacing him or going to act as a father figure for all of them too, so Peter wouldn't be special or get as much time with him? 💙💙💙💜💜💜💜💜I love ur blog so so much!!

FF.net I ao3

It was funat first.

MisterStark moving more of his work to the actual R&D labs meant Peter got tohang out with all the other crazy smart kids with an actual internship at StarkIndustries which had him thriving. He loved science and he loved tinkering withTony in his personal lab but out here? There were people who wanted to be hisfriend apart from Ned, not because he knew the Tony Stark but because theythought he, Peter Parker, was cool.

Screwing aroundwith bots and manufacturing some strong chemical glue for medical purposes(that may or may not have been inspired by his own webbing) was considered coolhere which, honestly, that was a first.

Peter hadnever once in his life been considered cool by anyone other than Ned and thathad always been enough. It would always be enough, too. It’s just - he had morethan one friend, his aunt and an eccentric superhero billionaire mentor in hiscorner now and that feeling of belonging somewhere was incredible.

Untilsuddenly it wasn’t.

Peterhadn’t quite realized that Mister Stark sharing his lab also meant, well,sharing Mister Stark.

They hadtheir desks next to each other, of course, and Peter was officially hispersonal intern (and unofficially so much more) but they weren’t really aloneanymore.

That meantsignificantly less physical contact (it was him who begged Mister Stark not toembarrass him in front of everyone else so that was on him, really) and no privatetalks.

After workwas a different story altogether when they would ride up the elevator to thepenthouse and Mister Stark ruffled his hair and they’d both collapse onto thecouch to watch a movie together. None of the other interns got to have that andPeter wasn’t too shy to admit to himself that he was a little smug about it.

So, it wasfine that his mentor wasn’t as openly affectionate when they were in R&D.Totally fine.

But thenone day a guy, just three years older than Peter called Marc, made him hissmoothie because Peter was running late after school and when he got in theywere conversing easily and Mister Stark was sipping his drink that was in adifferent cup than the Spider-Man themed one Peter usually chose for him and helooked happy and content and only interrupted his talk briefly to greet himwith a hair ruffle.

No “How was your day, squirt?”, no “I’vebeen wondering when you’d get here”, no nothing. It was fine, though,because he got that soft smile that was reserved for him and Mister Starkwasn’t obligated to give him this full attention all the time anyway. He was afree man and of course he would want to talk to the people in his lab. He was afuturist, a visionary and, above all, a team player who valued other’s input.

Only whenLizzie figured out a new update for the Stark Phone Mister Stark grinned at herand high fived her with a “Great job, kid.” And that was Peter’s title.

It wasridiculous.

He alwaystold the man how much he hated being called kid and now he had appropriated itas his title? Laughable, ludicrous even. To Mister Stark they were all kids, sowhat right did Peter have to monopolize a random three letter word?

It was justembarrassing, that was all, looking up every time he heard the nickname andseeing it, coupled with a proud grin, directed at someone else.

But Peterwasn’t a malicious boy. He really wasn’t. He knew how much the genius’ praisemeant to every single one of them because he’d been in their shoes and gettingacknowledged by their idol was fantastic. They deserved it. He was happy forthem, he was.

Just….

Sometimes the nagging voices in his head wouldn’t stop. They would tellhim how he wasn’t anything special, how Mister Stark could’ve taken anyone ofthem in had they been Spider-Man and then they’d be hanging out in hispenthouse and they’d get to cuddle up to him during movie nights. Someone elsewould’ve gotten matching science pun t-shirts and the soothing calls when hewoke up from nightmares yet again.

He was Spider-Man - that was all the difference between him and everyoneelse in the lab and it sucked a little bit to see the man who he had startedseeing as more than a mentor and idol and superhero. The man who was fillingthat empty space in Peter’s heart where the loss of first his dad and then hisuncle had sat ever since he could remember. To see that man act encouraging andproud and soft and undeniably parental to other people as well.

Mister Stark liked taking care of people, he liked shaping the futureand helping smart guys achieve their goals. It was fine. He just had to keeptelling himself that.

It was fine. Finefinefinefi –

“Wanna tell me what’s gotten your panties in a twist, kid?”

That word again. That endearment that wasn’t his anymore. The traitor.

He glared, resentment bubbling over. “Don’t call me that.”

Mister Stark raised an eyebrow at him, head cocked to the side as if toanalyze him, to gaze right into Peter’s soul.

He didn’t want that.

“What?” hesnapped then sighed because acting like a petulant child certainly wasn’t theway to go to show his mentor he was worth mentoring. “Sorry. I’m just. I don’tknow – weird.”

At hiswords Tony’s whole posture seemed to melt. Where he had been scrutinizingunderstanding dawned and a softness covered his features that most peoplewouldn’t associate with Ironman.

Not Peter,though. For him this was familiar. This was the Tony he knew would always bethere to catch him, literally as well as metaphorically. The person who, justlike May and Ned, always had an open ear and a free shoulder to cry on wheneverhe came barreling in with too many emotions in his heart to keep them in.

And he hadbeen an idiot and an asshole for the better part of two weeks, all because ofhis own stupid insecurities and he knew his deflecting of inside jokes andphysical contact had hurt the man and he never wanted to hurt Mister Stark. Hehad promised himself he wouldn’t ever hurt him and -

Only whenTony scooted closer, put an arm around his shoulder and pulled him into hisside did he realize he was shaking and he gave way to the burning in his eyesthe second his face was buried into the soft fabric of Tony’s shirt and hisnose was filled with the calming scent of his mentor.

“Shh,” theman whispered, “it’s alright, you’re alright. I’ve got you.” All the while hishand kept rubbing circles into Peter’s back with just the right amount ofpressure to ground him in the moment.

He hatedbeing so weak, hated being so dependent on someone else to tell him it wouldall be okay but damn him if it didn’t feel good.

“Promise?”he sniffled when the body shaking sobs had died down and he could finallybreathe again and embarrassment hadn’t quite settled into his bones yet.

“Always.”

He soundedso certain, so sure beyond the shadow of a doubt that it would be okay andPeter couldn’t help but believe him.

“Now,” Tonycleared his throat, hand traveling up to cup the teenager’s neck ever sogently, “want to tell me what’s gotten you so on edge? I might be able tohelp.”

“No,” Petershook his head and buried deeper into the embrace, “it’s stupid anyway. And it’sfine, really, just my own overthinking and stuff.”

Figuredthat that wouldn’t be enough to soothe the man for whom the term overprotectivehad been invented.

“Is itabout the other interns? Is someone bothering you?”

“No,” hesqueaked then tried to keep his voice even as he repeated, “no. Like I said,it’s stupid.”

Tony hummedand that was never a good sign because it meant he was thinking and contrary topopular belief Tony Stark’s emotional intelligence was perceptive enough topick up on the smallest things when he really put his mind to it. Or maybe thatwas just in relation to Peter.

“Is itabout moving the lab to R&D?”

He sighed,knowing that he was fighting a lost battle but not quite ready to give up yetso he shrugged.

Someone,May probably, had apparently taught the billionaire that a shrug usually meant“yes, but I’d really rather it didn’t” because it didn’t take him much longerto piece together Peter’s deepest fear.

“You’rescared I’m replacing you with some of the other interns and you’re wonderingwhat on earth makes you so special.”

There was apause in which Peter could’ve denied or confessed it all but he did neither. Hestayed quiet and at some point Tony broke the silence again.

“The thingis, buddy-”

Peter’sheart both soared and broke at the conscious use of a different nickname.

“The thingis that I don’t care how smart everyone else is or how many new things theyinvent. That’s great, they’re happy and that’s good for SI and I’m happy theyget to find themselves in science and that I could help them by providing theresources. It’s beneficial for both sides, convenient.”

“But you?You’re my kid. And the whole superheroing and sciencing might’ve been whatbrought us together in the first place but if you were to take an interest inany other field then I’d move heaven and hell to give you everything I can toachieve your goals no matter how far out of my wheelhouse I am. You’re notconvenient, Peter. You’re not supposed to be, I don’t want you to be. I wantyou to figure out what and who you want to become. I want to be there everystep of the way, cheering you on from the sidelines and picking you up shouldyou ever fall.”

“But why-why me?” he asked, voice small and scared.

There was apause that almost felt heavy, like they breathed out more emotions with everyexhale, making the air thick with them. It wasn’t an uncomfortable feeling. Itwas familiar, revelatory even.

“Do youbelieve in fate, Pete? Because I do. I might not like the circumstances thatbrought us together but I’m forever going to be grateful that they did. When Iwent to Queens to pick up a superhero I didn’t imagine I’d get to meet such abright eyed, pure intentioned person. Someone who challenged the way I see theworld from the very first day. Someone inherently good and perfect. What dothey say? Came for Spider-Man, stayed for Peter Parker.”

Despiteeverything he let out a huff at the attempt of a joke, reveling in the wayMister Stark’s body moved when his did. Like they were one heart, supposed toact as a single unit.

“What’sspecial about you, Peter, is everything. From the animate way you watch movies,over the ridiculous amount of time you spend dissecting your food and yoursmarts down to your views and beliefs and kindness.”

“I loveyou, kid. Nothing anyone is ever going to do will be able to measure up tothat.”

#irondad #irondad fic #peter parker #tony stark #iron dad #iron dad fic #josis fic #ask #anonymous #prompt #you're the pokes that i've always needed #if you figure out the song i will love you forever #@liesel #i'm also not overly happy with it #but i don't really wanna change anything about it either

153 notes · View notes

cuddlywritesthings · 4 years

Text

Not the time for jokes

Genre: World of Warcraft

Characters: Kippen O’ Connell, Reynali Dreamweaver

Characters mentioned: Ghelror Ebonfang, Brevaar, Lisi’mya, Neleri, Kagun Petalhoof, etc.

Timeline: After the events of Holy Ground; two days.

Trigger warnings: Mild-strong language

“Och, thanks ‘fer comin’ at this time o’ night.”

“Oh, no, it’s no problem. No problem at all! I wasn’t doing much myself. I had just settled down for sleep when the hearthstone started glowing. I, uh… I was worried that I had missed the original summoning sign, and had only noticed the stone glowing on the second or third attempt.”

“Nae! Just in time. Wassae single attempt in gettin’ ye tae come.”

Reynali blinked his eyes against the dimness of that courtyard. Before him, Kippen O’Connell-- the worgen raised by dwarves, who spoke with very much the dwarven vernacular-- reached out his furred hand for shaking. The therapist could see the remnants of soot on his claws.

Taking the worgen’s hand, he shook it heartily. “Soot? I see. Ha! Burning the midnight oil for the group again? Making some new contraptions?”

“Issnae exactly it,” Kippen grumbled, his rough hewn voice odd with the dwarven rumble. “Been workin’ overtime in wot we ‘ave goin’ on. Tryin’ tae find ae way in pos’bly fixin’ up a bomb or somethin’ that can be used later.”

“A…. bomb. How--- how nice?”

“Aye.”

“Ah, okay then. How… nice!”

“Aye!”

It was the wee hours of the evening, right before the night bled and melded into the morning. Reynali Dreamweaver had been dealing with a particularly hard case (a patient, who suffered traumatic flashbacks from the first time the Legion had invaded Azeroth, and has only worsened since the Legion last visited), and was looking over some notes he had made when the hearthstone on his bedside table began glowing.

The hearthstone was not a typical hearthstone. It did not take him to a tavern, an inn, or a charming little brothel. This hearthstone transported him to the reinforced entrance of a once derelict, now repurposed castle. Long ago he would have never set foot in such an establishment. But times were strange, and events couldn’t be undone. He had experienced a chance meeting with one of these Circle fellows, and ever since then he had been drafted to their cause.

That charming ringleader of theirs-- why, he had sweet talked him into joining. Made an excellent case. Reynali didn’t regret his choice at becoming a free agent for The Circle, but, he would have to admit that the Archmage was part of the reason why he joined. There was something so comforting about him that it coaxed him into a sense of secure familiarity.

He felt like family.

Perhaps that was his true spell-craft: charming and alluring those who felt lost in this world, even if by some degree, into feeling safe, wanted and welcomed. Reynali wanted to one day sit him down on a couch and truly get the Sin’dorei to open up. He was intrigued by what the man thought. He wanted to know more about his soul and his brain. What dreams did he dream? What fantasies did he hold secret?

Following Kippen, he half-listened to the worgen began to run over the current mission, what had happened and the cultist leader in question. He mentioned a prisoner. It was all cryptic, and the worgen’s words came out hesitantly. It were as if he, himself, did not want to be the one to talk about what had transpired.

Passing by the sea of roses on either side of the courtyard, Reynali made his way into the lower inner-bowels of the castle. His keen eye had taken note of the various Circle members milling about. He recognized many of them. And then, of course, there were a few he did not yet have the pleasure of meeting.

One thing seemed to be a common theme, though. And it unsettled the Ren’dorei.

“--so, aftae we deployed them, we had ae moment of--”

“E--Excuse me,” Reynali said, rushing forward so he could walk beside the mechanic. “I have a question.”

With a gruff ruff of acknowledgement, the furred tinkerer stopped in his tracks. Kippen turned towards him, his one eye glowing, the color always seeming to remind the Ren’dorei of his pigments back home. He often wondered to himself what pigment would he use to capture that striking orange hue.

Bringing himself back to reality, the Ren’dorei turned and pointed towards the back of the room they had just entered. There, slumped down at a table, head buried in his large hands, was the Circle’s resident Sunwalker. The Tauren’s shoulders were sloped in grief, and his body quaked with the trembling shivers that came with only the most intense form of sobbing.

Looking towards where Reynali had pointed, the worgen let out a sigh before adding, in a small tone, “ah, aye.”

His heart breaking at the pitiful, muffled sounds coming from the gentle Sunwalker, Reynali quickly blurted out, “I have seen three members of The Circle now, just after arriving. Not including you, of course. Others.”

“Aye, aye…”

“And they’ve all appeared to be listless or drained. Or-- Or sad. The first-- Mr. Ebonfang?”

“Archdruid, aye.”

“He was quietly sitting at the entrance of the courtyard, as if waiting for me. He was in his… his bear form. But he wouldn’t even look at me. I said hello, but he didn’t even take notice of me, at all. He just sat there with his head bowed, sitting in a patch of moonlight. At first I thought he was praying.”

“Tha’ sounds like him.”

“Now, after seeing Kagun there, I am beginning to wonder if he, too, was crying.”

“Ghelror issnae thae cryin’ type.”

“Fine, fine. You know him better than I do. But I just-- I just need to know,” Reynali began, unsure of how to start. “One simple answer. That’s all. Answer just one question for me.”

“Aye?”

With a slight, crooked smile, born from the lighthearted spirit of his, but laced heavily with crushing anxiety, he started in a half-joking tone, “everyone is so grim, and everything is so tense, and… and stressful and-- geez, who died?”

Kippen snorted once, before blinking rapidly a few times.

An awkward moment passed.

Nothing.

Reynali cursed at himself, knowing that he had blundered that. As a therapist, he worked with many of his patients in embracing their anxieties, their fears and their emotions. He taught them how to deal with their problems in a healthy manner, and how to confront stressful situations and the techniques used in dealing with them. The irony of it all was that he could never seem to apply such tactics to his own life.

He was a joker. He was a prankster. He lived his life laughing, because it was better to laugh than cry. His life had not been the best. An outcast from his family, he was disowned by his parents for his ‘proclivities’. His studies and his interests got him in trouble. And where he should have worshiped the sun, he worshiped the moon, the stars and space itself. He worshiped the mind, and delved into dreams. It landed him in hot water when he was exiled along with the other blood elves, and it was only made worse inside the Telogrus Rift.

So he laughed. And when things got too stressful, and he was overcome with anxiety and fear, he sometimes made jokes in order to lighten the mood.

Of course, he had horrible timing with most of his jokes.

“... that came out all wrong.”

“Aye. I assumed that.”

“I am so, so--”

Raising his paw, Kippen shook his shaggy head. “Nae. Dinnae apologize. Things have been ae bit… tense here. An’ per’aps we need tae laugh ae lit’l. Otherwise, some of us will nae last th’ night.”

Reynali’s emotional response was obvious in the way the color drained from his face. Steeped in the void, the Ren’dorei’s flesh tone had naturally changed, like many of his kind. When he was happy, thin, shimmering skeins of void would ripple and flicker along his skin in joy. But when he was sad or scared, the color would drain from him, and the blueish-purple of his skin would dull to a sickly, pale gray-blue.

And that’s what was happening now.

And Kippen noticed it.

“Ah, hey.” Wrapping his arm around the Ren’dorei’s shoulder, the furred tinkerer gave it a reassuring squeeze as he continued onward, nearly shouldering all of the elf’s weight in case the poor bloke passed out on him. “Let us head tae one o’ thae libraries ‘ere. Ae wee bit quieter, wit nae a soul around. We can talk there.”

“R--Right. Good… good idea.”

“Aye. I’m full’a them.”

----------------------

“So, you’re our therapist, hmm?”

“Employed as one, for your cause here-- yes.”

Guntharius had eyed the Ren’dorei up and down, a look of intense scrutiny written on his face. “I’m not sure we need a therapist in our order.”

“Oh, trust me-- being able to talk to someone does wonders for your mental health.”

Taviast had introduced this new member of theirs earlier that evening, during dinner. Everyone had been in the mess hall, prepared to dig into the lovely meal that had been prepared, when the Archmage himself had stood up and made the announcement. They had a new member in their ranks, enlisted as a free agent.

This member had been declared as a therapist; someone who could be called upon at any time for mental and emotional support.

Guntharius had attended the dinner, but he hadn’t eaten with the rest of the group. He had stayed in the shadows during the speech, knowing that he had to return to his vigil on the ramparts. He had recently upped his efforts in guarding Rosecrown, and his night would be long and drawn out. Of course, he had long since known that the castle itself had been cloaked and disguised thanks to the effort of Taviast, but now he had come to learn, in that introduction, that this Ren’dorei-- Reynali Dreamweaver-- had lent his own efforts in keeping this castle disguised from the enemy.

That hadn’t seemed to matter much to the warlock. Not until he had spoken with him, of course. The worth of one’s merit would be judged by him, and him alone.

“Actually, you might be able to benefit from this.”

The warlock had huffed as he had returned to his paperwork. He had returned to the library for a bit, hoping to get some research done before his night watch. “And how is that so? What can you do for me?”

The Ren’dorei had given the Forsaken a wide smile as he sat down across from him. “I’ve heard a bit about you,” he had begun in a slow, calming voice, “and I know that you suffer from just as much as the rest of these guys. If not more.”

Snorting, the warlock had then lifted his head, pinning the cheeky, smarmy elf with a judgemental stare. “What, you’ve snooped around and spied on my records?”

“Oh, no. Nothing so dramatic as that.”

“So, you’re a rogue? A thief? And here I thought you were an important member for this group. We already have those positions filled.”

“You’re deflecting.”

“Do not play your mind games with me,” Guntharius had snarled.

“And now,” the Ren’dorei had said, his smile widening a little and his eyes twinkling with merriment, “you’re reacting defensively, because you know I have opened up your weakness, and you want to have it remain closed. So you’re understandably lashing out at me because you feel threatened that I may end up exposing that rawness, something you’re trying to--”

“Enough!”

The elf had been unfazed by the Warlock’s shout, and he merely shrugged an aloof shrug. His smile still on his face, he reached over, and had slid him his personal card.

“You, of all people here, deserve a little peace of mind. I’ve been hearing about you from the others. From your adopted brother, and especially from Taviast. And, by the way,” the elf had playfully winked, “he’s told me a little bit about what you’ve been saying to him for the last few years.”

“And?”

“Good intent, but wrong tactic.”

Before, Guntharius had been bristling. Now he had calmed down. A look of surprise, and then recognition, had passed over his face. And he had sat there, stunned, as he watched as the elf rose from his chair. He had found his voice to have been silenced as Reynali had made his way towards the library’s exit. Something in him had been stirred, and he had almost opened his mouth to speak, but was cut short as the void-born elf raised his hand.

“No need to say anything now. But… my offer is there, Doctor. If you ever need help… call on me. And I will come running. I’m a therapist for The Circle, and I’m here to help everyone. And this includes you.”

And when the elf had left, Guntharius had found himself picking up the card. He had studied it for a moment, before putting it in his pocket.

In that moment, the Warlock had smiled.

----------------------

“....He…”

Kippen gave a great, big sigh before he buried his snout in his tankard of ale. He breathed in deeply. The smell reminded him of Ironforge and of his adoptive parent’s home. Pulling his snout out of the tankard, with a rim of ale foam on his nose, he replied in a terse tone, “he issnae doin’ well. Innae real bad condition. We still dinnae know yet if he’ll be surivin’ this. From wot I can gather, he was afflicted righ’ bad, and he cannae heal prop’ly.”

Reynali sat back in his chair, ashen and grim-faced. He was thankful that the library they had found was empty. And he was grateful in the fact Kippen had gotten them some ale, even though he didn’t feel like drinking. His own tankard remained on the table in front of him, beads of condensation slipping down the wooden sides of the holder like sweat.

“Neleri could only do so much,” Kippen continued, pausing for a moment to wipe off the foam from his nose. “She healed t’ thae best o’ her abilities, but she is exhausted. Brevaar has tried-- thae poor soul, he’s in mournin’, a complete mess wit grief. But he tried.”

“And?”

“His healin’ didnae take.”

“... I see.”

“Lisi’mya tried, but her healin’ wassnae as effective as Neleri’s. Kagun, och, well, we dinnae want him tae try. All considerin’...”

Wincing visibly, Reynali made a face. “Understandable. If the Light did this to him, adding more Light-based healing on top of that would only aggravate the situation.”

“Aye. Is wot we thought. Doesnae help that thae poor, sweet bloke is torn tae sunder aboot leavin’ them wit Camden in thae firs’ place.” Shifting in his seat, the worgen pushed aside his tankard so he could lean forward, hands folded on the table. “So, knowin’ wot ye know now, ye can see why we called out tae our healer.”

“But I--” Reynali swallowed his lump of nervousness down. Pushing his own tankard aside, he didn’t lean forward so much as he leaned back in his chair, like a child knowing he can’t help.

“But wot?”

Holding his hands out, palms upwards, he gave the worgen a defeated look. “I’m not a healer, Kippen. I’m a therapist.”

“Yer ae healer o’ thae mind.”

“To a degree, yes. But I doubt I could help him while he’s in this state. And my services won’t do you guys any good in bringing him back from… this. Whatever this is.”

“So… ye cannae do anythin’?”

Desperately grasping for figurative straws, the Ren’dorei felt the conflict within him. The conflict of being serious or deflecting with humor in order to lighten the mood.

“I---”

“Nothin’?” Kippen’s face fell, his expression becoming disheartened. His eyes grew big and sad. “Nothin’, at all?”

His mind made up its foolish decision, and the Ren’dorei quickly rose from his seat. Going over to grab his bag of therapeutic tools, he dropped it on the table, rooting about its spilled contents in a panic. Incense, parchment and pen, an inkwell, and various stress relieving objects were among the jumbled up pile. The worgen leaned in closer, curious as to what it all was for.

“I have nae idea wot half o’ these are fer,” Kippen honestly commented, picking up something that could oddly spin. He took a single claw and messed with it, watching it go around in a blur. “But it all looks like--”

“AH HA!”

Jumping in his seat in surprise, the worgen snorted and quickly looked up at what the Ren’dorei was currently holding up, rather triumphantly. The pirate’s fluffy tail began to wag overtime, causing his butt to wiggle in the chair. “Wot is it? Somethin’ tha’ can help?”

“LINEN!”

There was an awkward pause, and the worgen cocked his head to the side, his ears flattening against his head in confusion. He let out a whine.

“....Linen?”

“For--- For bandages!”

The worgen groaned, slapping his forehead with his paw. It was this reaction, and this reaction alone, that caused the nervous Ren’dorei to slowly sink back down to his chair. The air within the room was hopeless and suffocating, and no one could seem to come to a safe conclusion, or at least one that could amount to anything.

“Bandages,” the worgen mumbled to himself. “Och, we’re goin’ tae lose him. No one can seem tae help him…”

Dejectedly, the Ren’dorei put the roll of linen back into his bag. He began scooping up the spilled tools of his trade, and unceremoniously dumped them back in as well. He felt useless. Utterly useless. And what kind of elf was he, if he was so useless that he couldn’t help someone that he promised he would help him, at any time.

Yes, he remembered. He remembered the offer he had given the Warlock on his induction night. He remembered seeking out that grumpy old coot, and offering him his services. He recognized that the Forsaken was hurting, and he had wanted to help him in any way possible.

Guntharius had never taken him up on the offer. But now… it were as if he could hear the Warlock’s voice, from somewhere deep in that castle, screaming out the words ‘help me’ and ‘listen to me’.

It mingled with the whispers already in his head, and it made him all the more desperate to help him.

“Gunthar issae good man,” Kippen said, his tone weighty with the sense of finality, “an’ we cannae afford tae lose him. We cannae afford tae lose anyone, realleh, but it issae fact wit him tha’ he issae crucial part o’ oor victories.”

Reynali rubbed his face, feeling his anxieties take hold of him and the guilt of not being able to help the strange Forsaken attempting to crush his lungs. He tried to focus on coming down from his negativity. The more he was negative, the more the void spoke to him. It was one of the reasons he remained so happy all the time, and preferred laughter over anything else.

Letting the negativity win was asphyxiating.

“Wit’oot him, I cannae see us gettin’ far wit any future missions. We may be able tae take out thon cultists, but I doubt we’ll be able tae get by. Although, Ebondraft issae damn good interrogator…”

As Kippen lamented into his tankard of ale, Reynali thought long and hard on what could be done. He couldn’t heal Guntharius, obviously… but perhaps he didn’t have to heal him. Perhaps he was the right person to have been called upon, but not the person to complete the deed.

As the first rays of morning sunlight slowly peeked over the castle walls, Reynali found his attention was drawn to a tiny patch of pale light as it streamed through one of the many windows of the library. He moved his hand across the table and let the warmth of the sun begin to gently warm his cool skin.

“Damn! This whole thing issae mess. Wot are we goin’ tae do?”

A little perplexed, Reynali moved his hand, back and forth, slowly across the table. He watched as the light shifted from table to skin, and back again. How bright it was. How comforting, and inviting. As much as he had devoted himself to the darkness of the void, he couldn’t help but fall for sunlight.

Wait.

“I’VE GOT IT!”

Nearly choking on his ale, the worgen quickly swallowed his mouthful before he could spew it all over the elf in surprise. Wheezing, with tears lining his eyes, Kippen barked out a harsh, “OCH, STOP IT WIT THAE GODDAMN LINEN BANDAGES! IT WILLNAE WORK!”

“No, no! Not that!”

“Then wot?”

“THIS!”

The worgen looked at the Ren’dorei, seeing that the elf was gesturing towards his one hand, at the patch of sunlight that had fallen on his purplish-blue skin. After a moment’s glance, he looked back at the elf, only to find him grinning like a loon and nodding.

“....Aye?”

“Exactly!”

“Nae. I mean, wot thae fook am I lookin’ at?”

“This!” With another self-assured point, the elf tapped the back of his hand, where the droplet of sunlight was slowly growing larger. “We can heal him with this!”

Ears swiveled back, the worgen pinned the elf with a scrupulous stare. His expression was the definition of exasperation. Letting out an agitated huff, he replied with a near mocking, “aye, sure. Ae wee bit o’ sunlight.”

“Precisely!”

“Reynali, this better na’ be more linen bandages, or I swear on me mum’s hammer--”

Bolting from his chair, letting it toppled backwards in the process with a resounding clack against the stonework flooring, Reynali braced his hands on the table. “I can’t heal him. But I know of someone who can.”

Looking hopeful, Kippen’s ears perked forward, and his tail began to wag again. “Ye do?”

“Aye,” Reynali said, copying Kippen’s catchphrase jargon in a fit of playful self confidence. “I do.”

“Well, then! Spill thae beans!”

“Sunlight!”

There was another deadpan silent moment before the worgen growled at the elf, teeth bared. “Yer startin’ tae get on my last nerves, ye daft foo’. Wot thae fook do ye be meanin’ ‘sunlight’?”

“It-- It’s a person. Not just sunlight, but an actual person.”

“A person? And here you haven’t taken ae bloody drink of yer ale, and here ye be, drunk.”

“No, no!” Waving his hands around, he then proceeded to make a cupping motion with them, as if to hold the sunlight in his very grasp. “Sunlight, to me, is a person. Or, er-- I call her Sunshine, actually. And she’s an exceptional healer who can heal with both Light and Shadow.”

Hopeful once more, and no longer wanting to strangle the elf, Kippen sat up straighter. “So, yer tellin’ me this person... this ‘sunshine’ tae ye--- she may be able tae help Gunthar?”

“I am certain of it!”

“Well, then! What be thon lass’s name?”

With a swelling sense of pride, the Ren’dorei spoke aloud of the very person who could quite possibly save The Circle’s beloved warden.

“Shilly Lancasterr!”

#Cuddly writes some things

1 note · View note

alloveroliver · 5 years

Text

Harr Silver Smut

feel free to share on the main if you enjoy it! :) sorry its so short!

"I...do not feel comfortable with that yet, Alice."

"Oh...can I ask why?"

"I do not know too well myself. But while the intimacy would be something I would love to share with you...the thought of you staring at me so closely, seeing my face...no, you might think me a fool-"

"We can work around it, Harr. You could even blindfold me if you want, but I'd never be unhappy with seeing your face."

She had probably meant it in jest...but Heavens above, Harr couldn't stop thinking about it.

It wasn't that there was anything...wrong with his face. At least, as far as he could guess. Harr hadn't really been one to take much pride in his own appearance; if anything, he had always tried to make it easier to simply disappear. Someone viewing his face was weakness enough, and in the case of his dear sweet Alice, the weakness was less about the Magic Tower and more...being tongue-tied and way too deep in love to function.

...So maybe that was why that thought was so enticing? The thought of stripping her sight with cloth?

Goodness, Silver! When did you become so depraved?

Alice would be totally blind, but still so receptive to him. He could do what he wanted, what she so sweetly asked of him, and it would be a complete surprise every time. The anticipation would make every kiss and touch sweeter than before, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. The anonymity a blindfold would provide, while not foolproof, gave Harr a cloak and mask to hide behind, to become a different kind of lover when the candlelight went out. Shadows were his realm to begin with, and he couldn't contain a shiver of pleasure at how she would jump and squirm under his magic-laden fingertips in the faint light of the moon.

"...Heavens, what am I thinking..."

Maybe he should get back to work.

But as he tinkered and toyed at the workbench, cooking up a sleeping potion for his latest customer, his thoughts were nothing short of chaotic, a maelstrom of unbidden desires and thoughts that would have made sinners blush.

The sleeping draught was long in the back of his mind when visions of Alice came forth, her pretty lips shining and puffy with the effort of holding back her voice, hips wiggling with every fleeting touch he would trace over her lithe form. Fingers, tongue, teeth, whatever she desired, with Harr feeling free as a bird while she was bound and eager beneath him.

Magic crackling in his fingertips, aching with how vivid his imagination had become, invited him to press his hand against his crotch, pushing down upon his length beneath the heavy fabrics. But that offered little comfort, not when his visionary self was preparing to lap at Alice like a starving man, feeling how the overstimulation would cause her thighs to clench around his head in sheer pleasure. The muscles jumping under the skin, the angelic cries ripped from her throat, the saccharine syrup that would run down his face as he thrust his tongue in to bring her to the edge and beyond.

The idea of sensual deprivation, only to reward her with heavenly overstimulation...the dark recesses of Harr's mind bade him closer, and unfortunately, he was not quite prepared to fight off their coaxing words.

Throwing himself towards the door to lock it and almost tripping over his robe to reach his chair once more, Harr made quick work of his tunic and belt, leaving his abdomen bare and free from its confinement. Shimmying his trousers down further, he internally winced at the sound of his own arousal hitting his stomach. How shameful of me..., he thought, but didn't stop himself from dipping his fingers into the pot of fragrant oils before him, or from smearing his shaft with it and allowing his wrist to carry on from there.

Head thrown back, mouth agape as his free hand clasped the bench for stability, he allowed the picture show to continue playing behind his eyelid. Alice, now looking dishevelled beneath him, beckoned him into her loving embrace, legs clasped at his sides as he pushed himself deeper. She would be totally at his mercy, but he would never try to push her too far.

His sweet touches, a mixture of flame and ice, would lick up the column of her throat and down between her legs, until her head was thrashing side to side, pleading for something, anything, and Harr was the only one to grant it.

"Let me see you", she would purr, and Harr groaned through his teeth at the way his arousal jumped in his palm. He would almost rip the blindfold away, barely able to control himself, only just making sure to slow his ministrations to fully seat himself within her.

The shock of bright blue, glossy with unshed tears, was just enough.

Unintelligible words flooded from Harr's mouth as he pumped himself faster, the coil in his stomach almost snapping with how quickly Alice's image had wound him. The climax itself almost shocked him with its speed, but he found himself whipped up in the frenzy just as fast, hips stuttering up from the wooden chair in sporadic thrusts, as if she was right there with him, screaming in her own ecstasy. Magic-fuelled sparks jolted the very muscles of his arms, clenched his free hand around the wood of the bench, tethering him to reality and allowing him to gently return to his senses.

And almost as quickly as she had become real...she was gone.

Harr swallowed thickly a few times as he caught his breath. He grimaced at the feeling now spattered over his belly; no doubt it would be over his clothes too, with how much he had came. Shame now flooded his cheeks even more than the previous arousal, but there was little to do about it now. He needed to clean up...and possibly get back to work before it got too late.

When he looked down at the workbench, Harr couldn't contain his embarrassed gasp.

The potion had taken on a rich burgundy hue, velvety to the eye with a glossy sheen that looked far too inviting to ignore. Tiny shards of glitter - surely flecks of magic that had yet to dissolve - swirled around in the glass bottle, before slowly sinking to the base to occasionally wink up at Harr as he moved his head.

Raising the potion to his nose, his eye widened. The scent of fresh baking, strawberries and cream, lavender soap...the scent of the girl who wouldn't leave his depraved thoughts.

He had been gripping the table so hard, and surely it wasn't out of the question that his depraved thoughts had influenced his magic so greatly...seeking the nearest vessel in which to pool, his uncontrolled sorcery had instantly poisoned the half-made draught with an intoxicating desire potion.

An aphrodisiac?

Maybe it wasn't a good idea to create magical items when so...distracted.

But as Harr lifted the vial to eye level, a devious and wholly ungentlemanly ideas came springing to mind. And Alice soon after raced through his thoughts. Licking the draught from her lips and fingers, sweetness running through her veins and filling her lungs, heady and lovestruck enough to follow any of Harr's most carnal wishes.

He would have to write a note apologising for the potion's delay. There were more important things to deliver right now.

This was submitted by Anon.

HOLY SHIT ANON!!!! This was so well done!!! This blew me away like ajzjjsjdjd OMG I've read it 4 times and im DEAD. I love it ajjxjdjdj thank you!!!! And I appreciate that you allowed me to share!!!! Also, short fics are my fav!!!

Thank you!!!

#ikemen revolution #harr silver #fanfic submission #harr x mc #smut #submission

117 notes · View notes

marvalinafangheart · 5 years

Text

Who are you?

Marvalina stands at the altar, her wedding dress hugging her body perfectly, emphasizing her natural beauty. The fresh white of the silk making her tan skin and orange hair stand that all the more in the dim lighting of the church. She cast the crowd inside it’s hallowed halls a small glance. The people of Gilneas are dignified and quiet, it shows on their faces. Her fiance's side with his family and friends, all sit with their hands in their laps and no emotion on their faces, are the perfect examples. However, Marvalina had always drawn the outcasts to her. Her two best friends wave from their seats and encourage her to pay attention to the minister. Her mother and father although old and feeble found enough strength to make it. They are both crying tears of joy as they look upon their daughter with pride. The last seat on her side remained empty, the seat meant for her brother.

Marv cared not if her brother showed up or if he decided to leave town. She only allowed a seat for him to appease her fiance. A show that she was no longer afraid of him. That he no longer held any power over her.

Today was the day her life was going to change forever. After today she will no longer have to suffer at her brothers hand. No more sewing until her fingers bled to pay for food and medicine, for him to just steal it and gamble it away. No longer will she have to lie about a busted lip, black eye, or broken bones when ever he lost even a single copper. Today is the day she would finally be free.

“I do.” Her fiance reaches over and gently squeezes her hand.

Marvalina turns her attention back to the matter at hand. She radiates with delight under her veil thankful for the lace cloth hiding her tears.

“I do.” Her voice soft and timid just like her personality. So fragile, so easily broken, so innocent to the ways of the world and the hearts of men.

The minister turns to each of them as he speaks kindly yet firmly, “Then by the power invested in me by the Light. I now pronounce you husband and wife.” The minister smiles wide, “Now kiss your bride already before she explodes.” Marvalina hadn’t even noticed she was slightly bouncing up and down where she stood.

Everyone on her fiance's side, claps softly while her side hoots and hollers like they are at a bar fight. She can feel her cheeks getting redder by the second. The pain from smiling so much, not even bothering her.

She can’t see every detail but she can see the shape of his hands lifting up her veil. Something tells her to look down at the ground as he gently places it behind her head.

“You have never looked more beautiful than you do right now, Marvie.” He gently cups the side of her face and she finally decides to look up. To her horror instead of the beautiful man she had fallen in love with in his place stands a snarling wolf. Eyes beady and blood red, as it bares his fangs at her ready to strike. Marvalina recoils in horror and shrieks. Looking to her family they all have been replaced with wolves. Heart pounding and fear coursing through her like ice and fire she picks up the skirts of her gown and tries to run out of the chapel. But it was too late. They were already on her, the beasts biting and clawing at her flesh tearing it apart as she screamed, begging for mercy. Begging for the torment to end. Then everything went black.

Marvalina sits up in bed, drenched in sweat her chest rising and falling as she tries to catch her breath. It had been months since she had a dream like that...no not a dream. A memory twisted by her own mind and confusion of who she used to be. Of who she was, but they started up again. The night her sister, Ina’le, was found. Was not her real sister of course. But the biological daughter of the woman she called her mother.

Marv looks over at the empty space her wife, Kaserina, a Draenei woman she had met in a bar not too long ago, usually sleeps.

“Right...took the kids to the summer home.” She rubs her face and then runs her hands through her hair, combing out the tangles from another night of fitful sleep.

Marv looks over and grabs her dressing gown from off the post of the bed. Slipping her arms through the perfectly woven silk. She throws over the bedding and lets her feet dangle off the edge of the bed. The subtle swaying of the waters below rocking the ship back and forth. Offering her some kind of comfort. Bringing her back to reality and calming her down as best as it can. To her there was no better embrace than that of the sea, she would live and die on the sea. She looks at her hand and notices the rough calluses and scars from pulling ropes, hand to hand combat training, and just the worn skin of a pirates life.

Finally satisfied that she isn’t going to scream and break things, she finally stands the hard cold comfort of the floorboards just adding to her comfort. She walks over to her desk and sits down in the plush leather chair bolted behind it, all of her furniture had to be bolted down. She smiles at a drawing on her desk she had paid for, all of her family, her wife and five kids and entire crew standing in their best clothes. She picks it up turning it over and taking the key hidden in the back of the frame. The key only ever opens one lock. To one drawer that holds all her secrets.

The key slides into the lock of her bottom drawer of her desk with an ease that shows she opens it every day. Filled to the brim with scrolls and maps of treasures long since forgotten in the minds of men. She sweeps them aside and opens the false bottom. Inside rests a small black wooden box. Painted in gold around the sides locking runes of her own design. Only she could open it. Only she knew what laid inside.

Waving her hand over to runes, they light up as the lid springs open. Inside, resting on soft red velvet rests a polished silver, heart shaped locket. A floral design etched into the metal on the edge of the heart. She picks it up and let’s the morning sun reflect almost like a mirror into its surface. Marvalina has tried everything to open it. Every spell, every lock pick, not even world renowned tinkerers of the gnomes or acclaimed jewelcrafters of dwarves and elves alike could get it open. Something was keeping it closed, something she was scared deep down in her soul to find out. All she knew was someone she loved gave it to her.

Was it you? Did you give this to me before we wed? I don’t even know your name anymore. I can’t even remember your face. But I remember the way you used to make me feel. I remember the way you would look at me. Are you still alive? Are you still waiting for the girl you used to know? Or did you move on like I did? Have I betrayed you by giving my heart and soul to another?

There is a slight knock at the cabin door to distract her from her thoughts, “Come in.”

She doesn’t put the necklace away instead she just hides it in a closed fist as the door slowly opens. Big Jimmy stands in the doorway. The half orc and her first mate has always been one of her closest friends and confidant. Most do not see the man behind the scared face, or the mark of a slave similar to Marv’s, on his forehead. Unlike her mark, a spiral design that goes from ankle to thigh much like a series of rose thorns, his being two pickaxes crossed with a whip around it. He was a forced miner while she was a tavern wench. He smiles at her and nods.

“We made it Captain. We are about ready to lay anchor.” Marv chuckles, “How many times do I have to tell you Jimmy. Call me Marv.” “It wouldn’t be right Captain. On duty and all that.” “When are you not on duty.” She stands wrapping her dressing gown fully around herself to protect from the cold. She slaps him on the shoulder gently with her free hand as she passes by. Once on deck she is greeted with nothing but howling winds, dark clouds rolling in from shore, and the smell of the salt air. Jimmy follows her close behind as the two head to the tip of the ship. The ruined dock of this abandoned port town of Gilneas just waiting for them to dock. As the wind blows through her hair making it look like a beacon of fire, she can see it. There it is in the center of town. The tall white steeple of the building she has been dreaming about, waiting for her. “Are you sure about this Captain? Sometimes the past should stay there.” She clutches the locket tighter in her hand, the sharp edges of the hinges digging into her flesh, “I have to. I have to know who I am.”

#forgottenmemories #oc #world of warcraft #wow #pirate #worgen #orginal character

1 note · View note

essilt · 5 years

Text

Fic: Mnemosyne’s gift (WIP)

Autors: @katerina150 , @essilt Theseus Scamander / Leta Lestrange, Canon Het Relationship, Het, Alternate Universe, Epistolary, Drama, Romance, Family Feels Notes: BC THEY ARE OUR BBS AND JFC WE JUST CAN’T! Notes2: We’re sorry for mistakes, english isn’t our native language. Sum: Fantastic Letters and what are they hiding.

ao3 link

Chapter 4: The Corvus IV Lestrange's cunning plan

It was oddly, but they met again at the ball. Mr. Scamander and Miss Lestrange were invited to the annual Christmas Ball at the Ministry of Magic and, of course, separately.

Theseus led the Auror Department in 1925: the war hero, who was one of the first to go against the emergency legislation of Minister Archer Evermond. He returned from the mainland at the end of 1918, started from scratch under the guidance of Torquill Trevers and literally took off on the career ladder. The position and aura of heroism made his Irish appearance much more attractive in the eyes of the majority of free girls for betrothal, but Theseus was equally formally amiable with all of them. It was rumored that his heart was broken.

Leta Lestrange was a Hogwarts graduate, as well as Theseus. She once was friend to his younger brother Newt - and even for a couple of years she imagined she was in love, or maybe Newt imagined that for himself and for herself. Once she spent the whole summer at the Scamanders: communicated with the whole family and enthusiastically watched the hippogriffs. Theseus had often heard about her before: Leta Lestrange was at the tip of the tongue of a non-talkative Newt. Although the circumstances of the very first meeting could hardly have passed for auspicious, when Newt was expelled from Hogwarts, and his older brother had to push thresholds in the pose of the petitioner. Theseus never thought that he would communicate with this girl seriously. He was almost ten years older, she was from a different social circle. He went to war early, she continued her studies, learning how to do magical sciences as Muggle ones, and this was what later allowed her to work in the ministry, and not her father’s money, as many thought. Of course, they happened to cross at Trevers' department, but hardly all of these meetings could have passed for the renewal of acquaintance.

Theseus went to the reception without much inspiration: on the Christmas eve, Mrs. Scamander (Ma, as her sons called her among themselves) depressed by the blatant celibacy of both, in turn brought down her bad mood for a hopeless future, a lonely old age and other mischief from the day they were born. Newt crawled into himself, as if in a sink, and silently suffered, Theseus languidly dissuaded as just as languidly threatened not to come next Christmas, if these conversations did not stop. But Ma, having read the gossip in the Daily Prophet, where were only notes about beautiful lonely young women, went to storm with the determination of a soldier who had no other maneuvers left and who ignored the threat - especially since they never were performed.

"Do not roll your eyes, Theseus Scamander!" She always called children only by their full name being in anger. “You're worse than brother. You're almost forty. Almost forty, Theseus! Soon you will have no chance! You can expect only a twice-divorced woman or a widow with children from previous marriages!"

"Mom, are you sure that this is a suitable conversation before the ball?"

"This is always a suitable conversation!" She pursed her lips. "Theseus, I can not live forever, who will take care of you twenty years later? You think it'd be your brother who can't even take care of himself?"

Theseus thoughtfully considered a tuxedo.

“Mom, in the name of Merlin, I and Newt live our own lives a long time ago, and if I need a nurse one day — although I hope I won't get to such misery — I will just hire her. Marriage, as far as I know, is not for this."

“Of course not,” she snapped back, catching a subtle subtext. She paused and called on the other side: "Soon I will be too old to raise my grandchildren..."

"Grandchildren are for joy, mom. For everything else, you can hire a nanny."

"What can you know about this!" She let a little tragedy into her voice, and then got angry: "You measure everything with money, Theseus. Gathered all this of Muggles."

“Mom, money is convenient, after all, why not use it,” Theseus shrugged his shoulders, took the fresh issue of the Prophet from the table. "Well, and who do you offer me as a bride? Let's go through the list. The first in it turned eighteen last spring, and I, as you kindly and fairly reminded me, am almost forty..."

Mother snatched the newspaper out of his hands and threw into a corner.

"Don't clown around! You might think that there are no brides outside of this list!" Now the drowning man’s prayer sounded in her tone distinctly: “You had that girl in France... Why not marry her!"

"I am sure there is, but my work does not allow to communicate with them. With that girl, as you call her, there was a relationship that did not include the concept of marriage." He didn’t lift an eyebrow when his mother portrayed something between indignation and embarrassment, and ruthlessly added: “In the name of Merlin, mother, that time there wasn’t any relationship to marriage."

"So, you must work less!"

“And a woman who has worked all her life tells me this,” Theseus could not refrain from an ironic smile.

"It did not stop me from having two children!"

Theseus took a deep breath and folded his arms across his chest. Poor Newt is probably listening to all this.

"I do not argue." He tried to go on another truce, letting a little sincerity into the conversation: "I just didn’t meet a woman I don’t want to let go. And who'd endure me. No one likes redheads."

“Well, that is, we are to blame with your father, it was us who gave birth to you the redheads,” said Mrs. Scamander’s voice with a harsh note hinting at humility, and Theseus embraced her.

"Do not worry. If Newt and I are lucky, you will have daughters-in-law and grandchildren. You will grumble when they will overrun the house and climb where they don’t ask..."

"I will not live till that moment with such sons!"

Mrs. Scamander said this loudly enough for Newt to hear every word too.

***

Leta Lestrange was preparing to the ball alone. She received strict instructions from her father. Everything about her rebelled at the thought of what these instructions were about, but her tongue did not turn around to say "no". Corvus IV Lestrange had enough of a glance so that all the Leta's rebellious nature, who did not let anyone in Hogwarts descend, would wilt and freeze. The secret, shameful fault, about which it was impossible to make and sound, immobilized her and the overwilling glance smeared Leta at the feet of the father with a thin layer. You want to earn my trust, said this glance, you need my forgiveness, you should try and be a good girl, then I will approve of you - and Leta mentally replied: "Yes, Dad." Her father's authority was still indisputable for her.

She gathered her hair in a neat strict knot and stabbed her with sharp raven feathers. A black silk dress with a train and straps crossed at the back, studded with glass beads and sequins, was put on right on a naked body. Black velvet shoes on a tall thin heels, walking on will be almost an art. Her favorite silver snake with emerald eyes wrapped around her arm, from shoulder to wrist. The jewelry belonged to her mother - in fact, it was the only thing which Leta inherited by her mother.

***

She was late for the official start of the celebration and appeared in the ballroom when the performance had began and the frail ballerina, making the pas in her flying white robe, let go of the shawl into the air - but the performance did not interest Leta, she only looked ahead.

And it was Theseus Scamander ahead. Her Aim. Of course, they were familiar and although they didn’t really communicate for many years, moreover, Theseus was the first after precious animals that Newt could talk about incessantly: he found a thousand and one more reason to be angry with his older brother and to condemn him - and desperately admired him. So Leta, unwittingly, knew about Theseus Scamander much more than it was decently to know a young girl about a man almost ten years older; and since Newt Scamander was her the very best, the most intimate — and the only — friend, she involuntarily took from him an explosive mixture of condemnation and admiration for Theseus. They were even lucky enough to spend the whole pre-war summer together, when Mrs. Scamander invited her younger son's girlfriend to stay with them on holidays. Theseus was tall, scrawny, red-haired, freckled, just like Newt, wore a canvas shirt with rolled up sleeves and pants with suspenders, preferred to tinker with the rod and fishing line without the aid of spells, and he had an unusually ordinary girl. Nothing foreshadowed the hero of Arras, Messina, and Amiens.

Theseus was at the other end of the ballroom and noticed immediately the excitement among the guests and his reason. Silk dress to the floor, flowing gait, dark skin with an olive tinge. Densely dilated eyes with languishing and barely touched lipstick lips. At first it seemed to him that she was looking for someone, then - that it was him with Leta Lestrange met her eyes. Not for long: just a moment or two. He was amazed how lonely she seemed. Theseus did not follow her life intentionally, but he read the issues of the Daily Prophet, where were often published articles about her and all the enviable brides of the wizarding world, including Leta Lestrange, who, even crossing her twenty-five year line, did not lose ground in the top ten. He was even interested, because Leta occupied a considerable place in Newt's life - until the number of her supposed suitors reached ten. Then Theseus just stopped looking through the column about the secular life of the magical community.

She seemed relieved to see an old acquaintance.

They met with their eyes every now and then, until the performance was over, then the crowd separated them. Theseus was distracted by the conversation Minister of Magic Fowley, Leta was pulled aside by familiar witches from pureblood families. It took a good quarter of an hour and a lot of tricks and tiny steps in the direction of the Aim, before Theseus and Leta finally found themselves face to face.

“Oh, Miss Lestrange!” greeted Fowley. "How are you tonight? Do you enjoy the show?"

“This is a wonderful evening, Minister,” Leta gave Fowley a hand for the duty of the kiss and turned her gaze to his companion, nodding in recognition. Theseus tilted his head in response.

“Miss Lestrange, I regret that your father could not attend our Christmas party, but I am glad that you decorated it with your presence. Of course, you are familiar with our heroic Head Auror, Theseus Scamander, but it will not be superfluous to introduce you to each other again. Theseus, this is Leta Lestrange, the daughter of a respected friend of the Ministry."

Leta smiled radiantly.

"My father was very sorry that he could not attend, and asked me to convey to you wishes of well-being and remind you of the return visit, which was previously promised. Mr. Scamander, glad to meet you again," she gave a hand to Theseus.

How tall is he! She forgot. Or maybe in childhood it is natural that everything around is much higher. Leta had to throw her head back to look at Theseus' eyes, but he easily relieved her of the inconvenience, leaned in the old-fashioned way to kiss his hand, and did not raise it to his lips, as almost all men now did, trying to get rid of conventions.

"Mutually, Miss Lestrange."

She was so busy thinking about his height that she didn’t have time to think about his voice. Theseus detained her hand in his not longer than decency required, but Fowley did not allow the conversation to develop.

"Yes, yes, Miss Lestrange, I will definitely return the visit, would you like to accompany me and see our program?"

Leta had no choice but to agree. She wouldn't to refuse the Minister with whom her father was friends, although at that moment she wanted to stay and speak with a completely different person. Theseus was forced to accompany the wife of the Minister, a strict fair-haired lady who set off her bright charismatic husband.

The program of the evening included several more dances and a magician's nice performance, combined with drinks and light snacks. Leta was next to the Minister, realizing that Theseus Scamander was standing behind her. Directly behind. Touch me, she mentally repeated, touch me - until she realized that it was not an order, but a request. She really wanted to know how Theseus Scamander touches a woman, appreciate what is waiting for her, check with her skin whether all this chatter about a broken heart is true - although she already senses: not true... She even shifted her shoulder blades, almost feeling his fingers glide on her back. When white snow, so similar to the real one, began to fall from above and began to turn into flowers right in the air, she turned around and saw an asphodel flower in Theseus’s hands. Strong hint! Guessing how far the Head Auror could be suspected of indecency, Leta turned away as soon as she caught his return glance, and spoke to the Minister about something unimportant.

During the reception, her friends surrounded her again, without giving a minute of peace. Conversations, on-duty smiles, fake wishes of well-being, gossip, invitations to spend the weekend at someone’s estate or in the mountains, or at the springs. “And let's flight to Bulgaria!”, “Yes, yes, it’s very good there now, snow, they say, piled up, you can ski. I like to descend from the springboard "and so on and so forth. Her head ached so much that, after apologizing, Leta moved away, pretending to have a snack. She would not be reproached: the appetizers were excellent, to match the champagne. In the absence of a good cook, the current minister could not be blamed.

“Persephone plucked the asphodel flower, and the firmament of the earth opened up before her, from which the four dark as the night of horses escaped, and the underworld king Hades ruled it..."

She shuddered, turned around - and came under the spell of Theseus Scamander's smile. And, oh Merlin and the Holy God, this growth...

"Sorry, seems to me I've scared you."

"Don't worry, Mr. Scamander, I'm just surprised. Do you like ancient myths and legends? Or do you want to put my vigilance down?" hinting at the most innocuous name, Leta pointed at the flower.

Theseus laughed, and the asphodel disappeared.

“My job is, these myths not to become a reality, Miss Lestrange.”

“I hope that today you are not here to work, Mr. Scamander,” Leta smiled and took a sip of champagne. Her head was spinning slightly.

"No, today I intend to rest. Do you like ancient myths and legends?"

“Some ...” She paused, trying to get at least one suitable memory out of her: “I remembered, in my youth, I was amused by the legend that one hero went down to Hades and unsuccessfully sat down on the wrong chair. We often laughed at this with Newt."

Theseus grinned, apparently realizing what kind of legend it was. Newt once said that his brother in school was also teased by the misadventures of the great Greek hero, not always successfully, which, of course, was reflected in the number of points of his faculty.

Taking a sip of whiskey, Theseus leaned toward Leta a little closer.

“I argue that it was Newt who told you this Athenian gossip, it will be from him. And I'm not at all surprised, considering how my brother likes to laugh."

"How is he?" Leta did not retreat, only elegantly intercepted canapés from a passing by tray.

"He returns from his long journey soon. I think it will linger for a while in our area."

Damn well with his height sits a tuxedo, that's what, Leta thought - or champagne helped her think so. Newt wouldn't ever be dressed like this - noone would ever have a chance to rake him out of his beloved coat.

“Does Newt still love his outlandish animals?” Leta smiled, recalling the scary care of Scamander Jr. about his strange, but in her own way beautiful pets. “Does your mother still breed hippogriffs?”

“Yes, to both questions,” Theseus finally smiled sincerely, making his face completely transformed. Leta did not expect that his smile would make such a strong impression on her. "Newt is collecting material for his book, which he has been writing for many years, and mother is waiting for him to show another brood. And to persuade to find a more rewarding occupation..."

Talking about Newt awakened a cat named Feeling of Guilt from a lethargic sleep, and before she began to sharpen her claws about her soul, Leta changed the subject.

"Mr. Scamander, I spent a wonderful summer in your house, I still remember with tenderness."

In the eyes of Theseus it was clear that these memories are shared.

“You had lovely curls, Miss Lestrange.”

“I hated them,” Leta portrayed disgust, “and with pleasure got rid of them!”

"It does not matter. They were all the same cute."

"You are really pushing me to return them!"

“I never thought that my opinion is so important,” he smiled again, and Leta had to take a sip of champagne, because he had his throat tight.

The snake on her hand raised her head sometimes or took a more comfortable position, so as not to interfere with the freedom of the hostess's gestures. A catchy, massive jewelry, which, perhaps, would have gone as clothes. Not the most decent thought, but war wiped out the tinsel of propriety in the first place.

"Will I survive the bite of your beast, Miss Lestrange?”

She was surprised - hard to say, feigned or sincere - and opened her dark eyes.

"What beast, Mr. Scamander?"

“This one,” Theseus stroked one of the metal rings with which the serpent wrapped Leta’s shoulder with his index finger.

The snake did not move. Leta traced the movement with her gaze.

"Oh!" She slightly raised her hand. “She doesn't bite... unless I ask.”

“Warned is armed,” said Theseus in a philosophical tone. "I will try not to give you a reason."

Between her beautiful full lips flashed dazzling teeth.

“I don’t think I’d let her harm you.”

“You still haven't say whether her bite is deadly, Miss Lestrange.”

"Let the answer remain secret."

“Well,” Theseus spread his hands, “I hope that in the extreme case I won't have time to understand anything!”

"We'll see, Mr. Scamander." - Leta brought the glass of champagne to her lips again, and Theseus felt a sudden — and as clear as day — temptation to kiss her. Snake lifted her head from the hostess's wrist and winked.

Damn French women, Theseus swore to himself, no one else can so cleverly put all these women's tricks into which it is so nice to get caught.

"Is your beast trying to tell me something?"

Leta frowned severely, noticing snake's maneuvers, and she peacefully settled down, becoming just an jewelry again.

“She likes you, Mr. Scamander.”

He thought that this could be a family joke of the year: the snake-bride. Why not, in the end, the Muggle fairy tale about the Frog Prince wanders around.

"Does she have a name?"

Leta drank some more champagne, and Theseus remembered of his whiskey.

"I suggest you come up with it."

“I’m not as good at handling animals as my brother, Miss Lestrange.” He grinned. "I can not guess."

"It's just a name, Mr. Scamander." For a moment, she opened her eyes wide. Then the dark eyelashes sank again, Leta moved to him at a small step and stood up on her toes to quietly add: “You will not do anything terrible if you give it.”

Her smell was so close: an unobtrusive smell, reminiscent of languor, which comes during the summer heat, with a slightly bitter cocoa mixture. There was an eternity between the girl with pretty curls, who was visiting Scamanders' house, and an exquisite young woman at the ministerial Christmas celebration.

Some excitement passed behind their backs; the official part must have come to an end. Leta retreated to a small step. The thought that he wanted her was as clear as the thought of a kiss, but not at all sudden.

Theseus reached out to stroke the snake again.

"I'm lost. Ago? Aminta?"

"Ago," Leta thoughtfully held out “o”. - "I like it."

"And your beast?"

The snake lifted her head, shook her, and winked again, twisting around Leta's wrist.

"She flirts with me, Miss Lestrange?"

“I don’t see anything wrong, Mr. Scamander,” Letha laughed. The official tone has finally turned into a playful one. "I think many women in this ballroom would like to flirt with you."

Theseus spread his hands.

"Today they have no chance against your beast."

"It flatters her..."

Damn French women, Theseus thought again, damn French women, eternal punishment to the British for the Hundred Years War.

"And you?"

They met looks. Leta bit her lower lip - rather instinctively.

“I am a simple woman, Mr. Scamander, of flesh and blood.”

Theseus paused, looking for an answer.

"Is your beast jealous?"

“I didn't notice.”

The conversation became extremely ambiguous, the available reserve of the ability to flirt was exhausted, and in the large ballroom the invisible musicians played the fashionable Muggle Quictime Foxtrot and Charleston, and Theseus leaned old-fashioned to kiss Leta's hand again.

“Then she won't mind if I invite you to dance.”

That was a statement.

"Of course, Mr. Scamander."

"But I warn you that I am not very strong in this."

"Do not worry, I will teach you."

He tried to focus on something less provocative than, damned all the French women, she has no underwear, not even the thinnest bottom shirt, it was enough to put an arm around her waist to realize it. On how small she was: even on heels, Leta barely reached out to the top of his shoulder. On how gentle her fingers, decorated with elegant rings, are golden-brown, soft. On an unusually chiselled jaw line, especially noticeable when Leta slightly tilts her head to the side. On how softly she slips in the dance and imperceptibly guides not the most skilled partner.

On the fact that he did not want to let her go.

His smile made her heart beat faster, and Leta tried not to think about it. As for “not very strong”, Theseus Scamander, perhaps, lied: he did not stepped on her legs, he caught all her unobtrusive clues, and they had never encountered neighboring pairs.

“I've heard you were at the war, Mr. Scamander,” Leta spoke in a surprisingly calm voice, although she had almost been shaking with emotion. "What was it like?"

"I would not like to talk about it now, Miss Lestrange, I do not want to spoil the evening. Let's just say war is not an easy walk."

Someday he will tell her everything. For some reason, Leta had no doubt that this time would come. Or the champagne did not doubt - it does not matter.

“And you have scars?” Typical female curiosity pushed her to such an intimate question.

“Yes, Miss Lestrange, I have scars.”

"Will you show me them?"

Theseus did not answer, squeezed her fingers harder and put it on his shoulder, pressed with his palm. Then pulled her closer. The flashes of the wizarding photographers flickered around, and Leta thought that their pictures would be in all the columns of secular news in the morning, but she didn’t care.

By the end of the first dance, Leta understood that her father’s plan went to dust, as her own. They spoke with Theseus less and less often and over the last quarter of an hour they exchanged well if a dozen phrases. It is strange that after all the talk this evening it was so pleasant to just be silent. The third and fifth dances followed the second dance, the score lost its meaning. One of them will certainly end with the fact that they just cling to each other and will be just stay so close. Is that so easy?

"Can I take you home?" Theseus asked when the evening was almost over.

“Of course, Mr. Scamander,” she smiled, letting him put a mantle on her shoulders. Theseus himself ignored the rules and wore a coat of Muggle cut. They left together and, after passing a sufficient distance to the required point, transgressing near the pompous London house of the Lestrange family, where they always moved into the season.

Her father went away on business to the estate, leaving Leta alone to carry out his plan, which had already become her own.

“Do you want to come in, Mr. Scamander, drink some more whiskey? Father has a Muggle collection." Leta turned to Theseus, who was ready to say goodbye.

“With pleasure, Miss Lestrange.”

In the hall, Theseus helped her to take off her mantle, and left his coat and hat on a hanger. The house was quiet, dark and almost empty. The maids, probably, had already gone to bed, the house elves hid — not surprisingly, it was already past midnight, she noted. There was no dream in one eye. She lit a fire in the fireplace, a gleam played on Theseus' brown hair. He waited. Remembering the excuse that lured him here, Leta gestured to his father's study, opened a cupboard lined with pot-bellied bottles, and glanced absently at them.

"What kind of whiskey do you prefer, Mr. Scamander?"

“Miss Lestrange, I prefer not a whiskey.”

The next question literally hung in the air. Leta froze for a second and walked slowly toward Theseus. He waited, but Leta could not escape from his gaze. She raised her hands, buried her fingers in Theseus' hair, crumpled, ruffled, smeared with briolin's hands.

“I wanted to do this all evening,” she whispered, smiling at his bewilderment, “I dreamed of seeing them free.”

"And I wanted this all the evening," Theseus pulled her to him and kissed her.

Then everything happened instantly. In a split second. They kissed, as long as the air was enough, fumbled with their palms on their clothes impatiently, kissed again. Not here, she whispered, and he nodded automatically, of course, not here, though whom to peep; the thin straps of her dress, studded with glass beads, were the most important threat, because hell-take-it-easier-tear. Leta laughed silently, bared long and even teeth, whispered that the dress was worth a fortune; Theseus, close to despair, was looking for a secret "lightning", loops, buttons, and finally, gritting his teeth, he said - no more than the salary of the Head Auror. Leta laughed again and finally relented, sent his fingers to some intricate clasps, disguised by the same glass and sequins; one movement - and the dress was gone. And under it, indeed, there was only naked Leta, as smooth and soft as silk, which rolled from her as a black wave onto the carpet, and she remained standing - the continuation of this wave, dark, olive, golden, with a neat chest, a clear-cut waist and tough hips. She took her feet out of her shoes, and gracefully descended onto the carpet, as she came down from the platform, and turned out to be unexpectedly even smaller than Theseus thought. The snake flowed down from her hand, curled over the dress peacefully and covered her emerald eyes, Leta stood up on her socks for a new kiss. Her palms stained with bryoline had already spoiled the tuxedo, bow tie, vest and ruthlessly took hold of the shirt; not here, for the sake of Merlin, she repeated, there is bedroom, and Theseus hoarsely demanded: show. The dress and the tuxedo were left lying on the carpet, woven like lovers, Leta found herself in Theseus' hands, prompted the way into his ear: up, to the right, straight, the door, the next door... not the door in that sense... The handle clicked, they burst into the bedroom, dropped something on the way, Leta gasped, and they began to undress again. The shirt went to the floor, Leta took up the satin belt, then the buttons on the pants, brisk experienced fingers fluttered from one to the other...

“By all the rules, Mr. Scamander,” she purred fiercely, and Theseus sealed her mouth with a kiss, interrupting conversations and spurring on actions.

They stumbled in the dark, collapsed on the bed awkwardly, Leta gasped again; pulled Theseus to herself, let out a low, hungry moan when he thrusted into her, she wrapped her legs around his waist, eagerly moved her hips to meet, felt his back from the loins to the shoulder blades, every vertebra and every rib... Her tongue touched his cheek. The rhythm of the movements - towards, away and towards again - became more harmonious and stronger. The groans became a bit less hungry - it seemed so.

***

The snow outside the window poured more, caught the light of the lanterns outside the window, threw a small scattering of reflected light into the windows. Leta threw off the blanket when Theseus tried to cover her. She was not cold at all: burning maternal blood, even diluted by the British aristocratic, glacial, remained hot enough to warm the naked body inside. Darkness hid her, transformed her dark skin into ebony-black; Theseus did not trust his eyes - tactile memory covered many times more. And was more receptive. More precisely. All this time, there were a thin stockings on Leta; by touch they did not differ at all from her skin, it is not surprising that they went unnoticed. One garter dissolved, stocking moved to the middle of the leg. Theseus pulled him down, lay down at the foot of the bed, untied the satin ribbon, and pulled off the second, held his bare foot in his palm, stroked his ankle.

Leta giggled, wiggled her fingers.

“Ticklish,” she explained in a whisper when Theseus looked at her. "Accio wand..."

“No, that doesn't work like that,” he grinned.

"It works!" She made an angry growl. "You hinder me to concentrate!"

"On what?"

Leta did not answer. Her hairstyle was hopelessly ruined, and Theseus idly pulled the rest of the feathers out of the hair. He spread the strands on the pillows, buried his face in it. At the roots, her hair was slightly damp from sweat and smelled of not expensive perfumes or rubbing, they smelled... just as Leta, as she smells, probably after a bath. Or now, in bed.

Her wand swam into the room: a little uncertain, as if it was also blind in the dark. Then it became clear that they did not even bother to close the door when they burst into the bedroom.

“Lumos,” Leta said.

The light was faint, a little golden, warm; everything that Leta touched became warm.

“You agreed to show me your scars, Mr. Scamander.”

He grunted and fell on his back, spread his arms. Leta’s wand absentmindedly levitated in the air, while Leta herself, sitting on her heels and biting her lip with zeal, examined his body.

"Where does this one come from?" She poked at the round scar under the collarbone.

"From Amiens." Theseus stroked her knee, raised his palm higher. This was the best of all in appearance and in touch: an exciting, carved transition from hip to waist, steep, like that of an amphora, a drop from wide to narrow. "This latest bullet went diagonally, pierced a lung ... I was lucky to be right through. I stayed in the hospital for about two months or so, and then I was commissioned."

"Right through? Is the same on the back?"

Theseus nodded. Letha opened her eyes wide. Her initial playfulness diminished.

"And this one?" Her fingers held across a wide long scar, which crossed the right side and stretched under the shoulder blade.

"I do not remember. One of the first operations. She was so-so prepared. We ran out of bullets, and the bayonets and sabers went into action."

“Why didn't you ask the healers to remove?”

"It's not face." Theseus stretched and yawned.

He simplified intentionally the behavior and tone of the terrible thing he was talking about.

Leta bit her lip again. The next scar was under the ribs on the left side: uneven, ugly, as if a hook were being pulled under the skin, which fish were caught. She vaguely guessed that she left such traces.

"And this one?" Her fingers flinch when touched.

“And this one I got during the Hundred-Day Offensive. I ran into a wizard... I had to fight in a more familiar way."

“Did you carry a wand with you in battle?”

"Yeah. Behind the boot, instead of a knife. I even used it once... instead of a knife."

They met looks.

"You killed him?" Leta's voice has changed.

"Yes. Straight in the eye."

Her lips parted, but Leta changed her mind to speak. Looked away.

“Now I understand why you are the Head Auror,” she said slowly.

“Because I can kill with a wand without magic?”

Leta shook her head.

"Because you do not fluctuate."

Instead of answering, he intercepted her neck, pulled her to him. The sharp face of the pagan goddess approached the face of Theseus.

“Nox,” Leta whispered. The light turned off.

Lips, on which there was no trace of lipstick, pressed to his lips, and Theseus realized that it was equally and absolutely not enough for both of them.

***

They fell asleep in the morning and woke up, barely beginning to get light, to make love again in tacit consent. Silent, like a backwater, Leta listened to his ragged breathe, his moans and tried to keep in mind how they sounded, how the muscles tensed, when he rested on his arms, lifting himself, pushing deeper into her; she tried to memorize the relief of his lean, sinewy, bony and heavy body, the location of the scars on his back, dug her nails in it, wanting to leave her marks on him, even if short-lived, and she vowed to herself that she would never have anyone, never, and then the orgasm cleaned all the efforts, all the oaths and all the hooks to which the memories clung.

It became quite light. He had to get dressed, thank her and leave. So do all random lovers, whose names and faces aren't remembered.

Why does she think about random lovers? She should not think about them. For their sake, she never wanted to throw a bathrobe, to go downstairs, to make coffee and to fry toast without any wands...

Is it also random for Theseus? Maybe that's why everything turned out so easily?

Something must have changed in her face, because Theseus smiled, touched her lips with his fingers. The movements were relaxed, as if he didn’t care about the morning and he wasn’t going anywhere.

"I thought you like my brother."

"No, I always liked you."

He laughed, and Leta laughed hastily with him: it can always be said that tears came out of laughter.

"You are a shameless little liar!"

“Okay, okay...” She dried her eyes. “Newt and I kissed once, when we were fifteen, and after that I decided that he was too good to allow him to plunge.”

Theseus raised his eyebrows.

“So I’m not good enough?”

“No, but I thought you were smart enough not to plunge.”

"Double shameless little liar!"

Letha felt that her lips were trembling, and turned away, pulled the blanket to herself. Yes, a liar, the liar, covering all life the most terrible deception. Even her birth was just a result of deception.

Theseus' fingers slid along her back, circling the vertebrae...

"Did I hurt you?"

She shook her head, but did not dare to turn to face him.

“I have to repent of something, Mr. Scamander.”

In his silence, bewilderment was most clearly felt.

“I’m not a Muggle the confessor, Miss Lestrange, and I don’t give absolution.” He also changed the tone.

"Anyway, I have to repent." She exhaled. "Everything that happened... there, at the celebration... and here, in this bed... it happened, because my father wanted it so."

She did not turn around, and Theseus was silent. It was silent for a long time. Life passed, then another, the universe ended, and the silence all lasted and lasted.

Finally it stopped with the simplest:

"I do not understand."

She needed to hurry to explain everything, because too much time had already been lost. Otherwise, others will explain.

"He wanted to have influence on the new Head Auror. And this way, this way... this is proven. And now I repent."

At last, she had the courage to look back.

Theseus looked at her without condemnation or contempt - and, as far as she could judge, he was still not going anywhere. Her heart failed.

"I was so bad?"

It was such an unexpected question that Leta’s tears dried out.

"No!"

They exchanged a tense smiles.

"Well, you seduced me. What was the future plan?"

Leta opened her eyes, unable to believe that he took her revelations so calmly, that he simply dropped its as irrelevant. Maybe Theseus did not understand what she just confessed? No, he understood. Almighty Merlin, he interests in her and nothing else? Nothing at all?

"To get into your trust."

“Congratulations,” Theseus said seriously. He sat down, gently took Letu by the shoulders, and peace enveloped her. "You got."

#theseus scamander #leta lestrange #theseus x leta

3 notes · View notes

beeyeah · 6 years

Text

Insight - Chapter 18.2

Title: Insight

Summary: /On-going/ Jikook/ In which Jeon Jungkook was introduced to the world of shipping and fan videos.

“Jimin-hyung, do you think I stare at you too much?”

Pairings: Jikook | Side Vmon

Tags: slowburn, fanvideos, canon compliant, smut

Last chapter update here

Notes: Hey, I’m back! lol I said I’ll update frequently since these are merely snippets but I always fail when I make promises. Anyway, here’s part 2 of Chapter 18 (tag: how bad can it go?) Disclaimer that this is not the final version. I’ll definitely have to edit to fit these scenes in canon timeline.

18.2 - ttam

“You should go meet out more people, Jungkook-ah,” Jimin mentioned in passing as he tapped away on his phone and replied to the invitation of his same-aged friends to drink right after new year’s countdown.

He was lying down on Jungkook’s bed. It creaked silently to his weight when he shifted. Let his arm dangle over the bed’s edge to get Jungkook’s attention who busied himself and tinkered with his newly bought music equipment.

He could feel Jungkook’s determination peaking and dwindling the more he strove for progress. Sometimes, the younger would raise up his hands in surrender and ask him if he should just do what he does best – singing. To which Jimin would disagree because he knew Jungkook had the talent for so much more.

Other times, Jungkook would try shooting photographs and videos. He would edit them in his supercomputer and ask Jimin what he thought of them. Though most of the pictures were of just him and the members eating or laughing or walking. Jungkook was talented that much was established. He learned things quickly and had eyes for how to make simple things look beautiful. Jimin full on supported this obviously more than gaming. He loved watching the maknae work hard and he found it adorable when he would bother their leader or Yoongi to get pointers on music production.

But at times, Jimin wished Jungkook would meet more with people. It was bad enough that Jungkook (or the rest of them) didn’t have the normal life a teenager would. Jungkook had to be that kid who preferred to stay inside his room during breaks.

It worried him.

“Don’t you have friends you want to meet? Play arcades? Bowling? Eat with?”

Jungkook raised his head and looked at him bemusedly. “Do you want to have a date?”

“Wha–” Jimin began to answer until he realized what the words meant. He felt his cheeks getting hotter at the implication. While he understood he could be quite roundabout when he wanted something from the maknae at times – “That’s not what I mean.”

Jungkook pushed his chair away from his makeshift work table and stretched up, eyes not leaving Jimin’s who stared at him back, gaze fleetingly zooming in to the skin exposed when the other guy pulled at his muscles.

Jungkook smirked as he motioned for his bed’s ladder. Jimin blinked when Jungkook reached the mattress and crawled towards him. He scooted to give space and noticed he was on his back a little too late. Jungkook beamed at him from above, an arm propping himself up so that he won’t put much of his weight on him.

“You’re doing it again,” Jimin said, own hand instinctively reaching up his neck. He didn’t pull but Jungkook dipped his head a little lower so that their noses would touch, making Jimin crossed-eyed.

“Jimin-ah,” the younger whispered with a leer, free hand resting over Jimin’s waist. As if to drive his point across, Jungkook wedged a leg between his.

Jimin giggled in sheer embarrassment and placed a hand on Jungkook’s chest. “Stop avoiding this talk. Hyung is telling you to meet people. I’m wor–”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence because Jungkook planted a kiss over his lips. The kiss was firm but quick so when Jungkook pulled back after two seconds or three, Jimin craned his neck forward, threading his fingers through the younger’s hair and tugging him down. Jungkook loved it when he played with his hair. Whether the kiss was passionate or lazy.

Jimin slowly opened his eyes that he didn’t even notice he shut as Jungkook pulled back once again.

“Aish,” Jimin muttered, biting his lower lip in uncertainty. When Jungkook looks at him like this, all attention on him as if he mattered the most, he wanted to curl away but at the same time bask in the intensity of it all. He really, really likes this kid. This man.

Jungkook’s grin was cheeky as he watched his expression. “You really like it.”

He won. Jimin got distracted.

Jimin lightly punched his chest and scoffed. “Why? You hate it? You think you’re all that.”

“I am,” he replied and kissed him again. “I think you’re cute,” he mused and let himself fall sideways, arm remaining across Jimin’s stomach.

“Woah, Jungkook-ssi are you really turning into this person? I should show you how frightening I am,” Jimin answered with mock-offense and faced Jungkook by turning to his side. Soon as he did, Jungkook tightened his hold on him so that he’d be pulled closer. “Anyway, you’re diverting the topic. I told you I want to talk.”

Jungkook sighed but didn’t protest, merely fumbled with the hem of Jimin’s shirt from behind.

“Go out of your room, Jungkook-ah.”

“If you want to meet your friends, I won’t stop you.”

“You think that’s what I’m worried about?”

Jungkook’s brows met. “What are you worried about?”

“I want you to meet people.”

“Why?”

“To have more friends. It’s lonely when you stay alone in your room.” He could feel Jungkook tensing up and ready to pull himself upright, away from the embrace. Jimin prevented his escape by trapping his body with his right leg.

“I’m not lonely. I have friends.” From his waist, Jungkook’s hand moved to the back of Jimin’s thigh. “We play games when you’re not around.”

“Ah, you’re bringing that up now,” Jimin spat back. Now it was him who felt attacked. It was his turn to activate his flight instincts which Jungkook sealed with his grip. “Are we starting to list down things we’re both not pleased about? That’s not all friends do. You need to talk about things. Things that you’re happy or stressed about.”

“Jimin-ah,” Jungkook mumbled softly and lightly bumped his head on his. “We talk about those.”

“Yeah, but I meant same-aged friends.”

Jungkook remained silent.

“That face…”

Jungkook was losing his thin patience.

So he let out a second sigh. “We go bowling sometimes. I chat with them. Hyung, what do you want from me?”

That night, he stepped on the wrong mine. Between the two of them, Jimin would be more likely to burst into frequent uncontrollable rage. Jungkook never rode the high. He would back down to pacify Jimin more often than not. Jungkook only ever got seriously mad at him one time when he refused to let go of his unhealthy diet prior their Wings promotion. And when Jungkook loses it – “Don’t get angry. It’s scary,” Jimin admitted reaching up for his nape and leaning in to kiss him.

Jungkook didn’t turn away to let him ebb his anger.

“Hyung, if you want to meet people, go.”

At one point, the way Jungkook would use ‘hyung’ when it was just the two of them started to bother him too. Because it meant that Jungkook was willingly trying to set the distance that they previously held before. He knew Jungkook hated it when Jimin would call him kid and attempt to assert their age difference.

“Don’t call me hyung.”

It seemed to take Jungkook aback. His eyes widened slightly at the request as Jimin closed the little space they had.

“I’m not angry.”

“You are.” Jimin gave the gap between his neck and shoulder a squeeze, letting his fingers trace Jungkook’s jaw afterwards. “Sorry, I was being meddlesome.”

Jungkook nodded. “You’re annoying but I’m not angry.”

He rarely pointed out imperfections because he knew how words affected Jimin but he would in detail once triggered. Jimin wouldn’t want to hear the rest of it.

“Alright, I’ll stop talking about it,” he promised.

That night, he yielded because Jungkook had a point. And while games were something he wouldn’t really consider deep foundation for friendship, if that was what made Jungkook happy, he had no right to say otherwise.

–

Not until he would be questioned when he was out with someone else.

wer r u

It was one of those hangouts for purple dim lights and gaming amidst the districts of Gangnam. The venue was crowded, chatter a buzz. Jimin sat on the couch crossed leg from an isolated corner, phone chiming as pins went strike by the other end of the alley. Tonight’s menu smelled barbecue and great though turning spoiled sour earlier than expected caused by the absence of one Jeon Jungkook who promised him he’d be with him for the party.

Smashing bowl.

He frowned at his phone as an ‘I knew it’ reverberated through his head. Hid the device in his pants’ back pocket as if to silence the impatient tone that demanded he get pissed at the younger. Because that was the second that night and whoever wanted anyone checking on them ten minutes into conversation? Jungkook should get a hobby.

“Is something wrong, sunbaenim?” Dongchul asked him, noticing the change of his mood.

The kid watched him from his periphery as he tipped his head back to sip his can of coke.

It had always happened with this trainee, Jungkook nagging at him and sending selcas randomly.

He would typically find it cute. This was a side to Jungkook that their fans haven’t been made privy, one which he and the rest of the members had enjoyed for themselves. And typically too, he would find himself running to the younger’s room and cooing at his beckon.

Right now it grated on his nerves annoyingly.

If Jungkook wanted to come so badly, why did he cancel off on him? He offered. That kid. He offered for Jungkook to come with him and he agreed. They were set until the younger was made aware that Dongchul was coming with them.

Jimin thought they were getting along. They were same aged, Dongchul just a few months younger. The trainee was passionate about dancing the way Jungkook is, liked hamburgers and playing games so it was good fit. Even as he looked at the trainee, he couldn’t find what it was that made Jungkook’s face downcast at the mere mention. With his yellow oversized shirt and mismatched red cap to cover his almost shaved head, Jimin thought Dongchul is actually cute. He also frequently would ask Jimin for dance advice. Jimin felt valuable around him and, in his opinion, that wasn’t bad company at all.

Jimin lifted a palm towards Dongchul’s direction. “Just a minute. Could you play by yourself? I’ll just scold my child.”

“Ah,” Dongchul responded, quick to catch the hint and not even waiting for the answer. He was already walking towards the racks where the neon balls lined up. Jimin didn’t miss Jungkook’s name escape the trainee’s lips even inaudible.

He didn’t hear further due to the other silent chatters so he opted to return his attention back to his phone and slid his screen open. The KT chat appeared where Jungkook just sent him a photo of himself doing a thumbs up as he sat languid on the office chair in his room. It was followed by a photo of his computer screen that showed Overwatch with his favorite character, Widowmaker. Childish how he was trying to get his attention but it seemed to be working anyway.

Go marry Widowmaker

enjoy your date

Jimin let out a short laugh when the reply came fast. He wasn’t playing the game. If Jungkook were really on it, he wouldn’t have the time to type on his phone and would ignore him for the rest of the night.

What’s wrong with you and Dongchul?

He frowned when a minute came, the little yellow number showing his question was seen and he was receiving no response.

Aishhh

Answer before we fight again.

His empty threat proved effective because the answer was almost as immediate.

hyung

The honorifics resurfaced.

Ur doing it again.

trying to make me meet people.

Jimin’s fingers froze and hovered over his phone’s cracked screen. Lips pursed when he knew Jungkook had him figured out.

The younger refused to give him a clear-cut answer earlier when he confronted why he wasn’t dressed for their night out. He shook him senseless to coerce him away from his PC but Jungkook refused to budge. That he chose to finally tell him when they weren’t face to face underscored how uncomfortable it was for him.

Jiminie

Jiminssi

Jimin

Jiminah

Jimin smiled as he watched the string of nicknames flew through the chat screen.

What?

Funny how the same person could make him feel guilty, rejected and wanted at the same time.

im not angry

You’re never angry

And as an afterthought, he typed honestly.

That makes this difficult

He could imagine Jungkook licking his lips, trying to identify what went wrong again when it was all Jimin.

u wnt me to get angry about this

No i don’t know what I want from you.

Then, even more boldly.

I want everything. Probably.

kkkk

Don’t laugh

Hyung ur not that easy to love

Jimin blinked quickly, thoughts halted by words casually delivered over chat. Attempted to ignore the strain in his chest, knowing full well the truthfulness and gravity behind it.

Is that so? Are you breaking up with me?

He challenged just as casually, though feeling his grip on his phone a little more rigid as he waited. Ears ringing and silencing the babble of conversations around him. It wasn’t the first time Jungkook said that to him. Eventually, those words began to make him feel as if he were standing on thin ice. Unsteady. Nervous. Fragile.

A stark contrast from when they first started.

Always made him want to step on the breaks before they got in too deep.

Let’s break up.

He typed, chin tucked as he sniffed. He typed because he needed Jungkook to put him at ease.

try again

i wont let you go

Jimin let out a breath in relief. Okay. They were still okay.

kkk you just want to say those cheesy lines

ill turn off widowmaker. come home to me after u enjoy ur date.

Stop sulking and come here

But sometimes words weren’t enough to secure him.

Come here. Hyung will give you anything you want just come here. I want to see you.

kkk

After a minute of undisturbed chat stream brought about by the younger’s lack of additional comment after his vague emoji, Jimin thought he should press more.

Jungkook-ah

Come here. Where are you?

Cming to u

And the fact was, he was lying. Since the beginning, he probably never intended to back down. Hoseok did tell him once that he should stop trying to force Jungkook into doing things. But when Jungkook would come rushing to him like this. Eyes wide and yielding, it felt good. In a world that always pushed him to do well but never kind enough to rid him of insecurities, Jungkook would probably be the only person to see his selfish side and forgive him.

For how long though was the question.

…To be continued

#jikook #kookmin #side vmon #fanfic #canon compliant #non-au #romance #bts #bangtan sonyeondan #jeon jungkook #park jimin #insight #chapter 18.2 #jikook fanfic #kookmin fanfic #ao3 fanfic

38 notes · View notes

dammitadolfnomorecake · 6 years

Text

SCSI draft

Eren's fever finally broke after a day and half of his fiancé mumbling deliriously. Hanji had the been only one Levi allowed into Eren's room, despite both Mikasa and Armin asking if they could see him. Eren just wasn't up for visitors. He cried and begged to be let go each time Hanji touched him, even if it was a simple accidental touch as she changed the cold compress. She didn't need to say it. The grim expression she wore each time she looked at Eren was more than enough to tell him how fragile Eren's state was right now. His body wasn't healing at all. His wrist wasn't infected, but Hanji couldn't stitch the wound due to Eren being so damn scared. Levi had tried, but his right arm was still practically useless thanks to the ghoul blood, though part of it may have also been from the psychological trauma over seeing Eren's wrist chewed so badly. He only ever fed from Eren's wrists at his insistence, not wanting to force the teen to remember the trauma of being chained, so for him to chew at it, felt like a betrayal of the trust Eren placed in him. Forced to shower by Hanji, Levi wasn't in a great mood. Shitty black goop continued to ooze from his wound, despite the fact he'd examined it and found it bullet free. His gums and teeth also had the same unhealthy black tinge, which he'd barely been able to keep hidden from Hanji. He wasn't getting better. Just like Eren wasn't really getting all that better. He knew Eren didn't want to leave the house, not if he was given the choice, so he'd been keeping his mouth closed... but maybe taking Eren back to the castle really was the right thing to do. Hanji's lab was better equipped there, and the infirmary was actually designed to cope with trauma. Here was just their bed, and the kitchen table for surgery. Eren deserved more. He deserved all the medical care they could get, and more... so why was he hesitating? If this had been before the brat had wormed his way in under Levi's skin, and before he'd worked his way into his heart... or even if Eren had just been another shitty brat, he would have sent them to get professional help. So why couldn't he just make the call? Why was it when he looked at his fiancés pained face, all he could hear was Eren begging to stay here? It wasn't safe here. Eren had even started packing to leave the here... but... was he being selfish? This place had been their home. It was where he first admitted to Eren that he was tired of trying to deny his growing feelings for the brat. It was the place Eren wanted to go when they'd saved him. It'd been their small corner of the world while Eren got his feet back under him... was it him being selfish? He already knew he didn't want to share his brat. He didn't want people close to him. He didn't want Eren's attentions being on anyone other than him... but if Eren was going to die... Levi shook his head in disgust, lashing out and smashing the bathroom mirror with a satisfying clatter and tinkering. When had he become this weak and obsessed creature? When did his desires to monopolise Eren's existence mean that he was willing to risk Eren's life? He'd fallen. He'd fallen so fucking hard and so fucking far. Barely able to recognise the reflection of the man he eyed in disgust, in the pieces to shattered mirror glass. This. This wasn't him. He was "Humanities Strongest". He was the one they all called cold. The one who's glare sent soldiers scattering. The one who slade werewolves like he didn't care if he lived or died. He was the one who Eren had aspired to be like... so when had he become so soft? When had he given into his own deeper desires? When had he settled with just being Eren's lover? He yelled and screamed about protecting him, yet Eren could die and he hadn't raised his hand to do a single thing to help him. He needed to make the call... so why couldn't he do it? Was it fear that Eren would hate him? Maybe... probably... more than likely. His brat was headstrong and unstoppable... when it came to all the wrong things. He'd be mad. He'd yell. He'd probably even scream at him... Gripping the sink, he hung his head. "Levi?" Letting herself into the bathroom, Hanji walked to his side. The woman not speaking as she turned him, forcing him into her tight embrace. With shaking fingers, Levi grabbed her jacket "I don't know what to do" "What do you want to do?" "He needs help" "He does... he is improving, but we've already been here for too long. Whoever attacked you may still be in the area, or they may have even moved to attack the castle" "He... he doesn't feel safe here. But he doesn't want to leave" "I know you want to respect his wishes, but the castle is better equipped to provide the medical care he needs" "I know. It... it scares me to see him like this" "I know it does. I know you'd do anything for him, but at what cost? You're not sleeping properly. You're not eating. I had to send you to shower. You look like shit" "Fuck you, four eyes" "Look. If you really have to ask Eren what he wants, then we'll wait" "I don't want to force him into a situation he doesn't want. I don't want him to feel like he's a prisoner again" "His fever has broken. I suspect he'll wake sooner rather than later" "And what do I tell him?" "The truth. He'd hate to see you like this" "Not a word of this..." "Or you'll kill me. I know. Can I ask for one tiny favour?" "It depends" "Try and get some sleep. Even if it's only an hour or two. Eren's going to be so worried about you..." "So for Eren's sake, I need to clean myself up?" "You're the one who said it. Levi, it's alright to love Eren and to want to make him happy, but you need to love you first. If you don't show yourself love, you're not going to be happy" "I have no idea what you're on about" "Just think about it" Showing himself love? How was that all that different from his usual day? He'd shower. He'd dress. He'd make breakfast. He'd clean. He'd read or work the garden or chop the firewood or practice his hand to hand alone. And if Eren wanted his attention, he got ever last bit of it. Things only truly came to a grinding halt each time Eren was hurt or sick. That's when he seemed to lose his head. Maybe Eren's scent glands released something that begged him to stay close? He knew Eren couldn't control his scent... but his brat should know he'd be there for him... what had Eren told him the other day? He needed a hair cut? Ok... he could start there. * Eren felt exhausted. He felt like his exhaustion had had sex with more exhaustion, and he was the by product of it all. Every part of his body felt heavy, so tired that the smallest touch send pain flaring through him. He couldn't even raise himself to go to the toilet or to get a glass of water, no matter how dry his mouth was. Laying next to him, Levi was snoring softly. His heart ached for his alpha. He looked so sick and pale, his beautiful featured marred by dark bags beneath his eyes. He hadn't meant to worry Levi. He hadn't meant to collapse after Zeke shot his fiancé. He'd been so scared that Levi wouldn't come back to him, that he'd lost consciousness. He'd done this to him. It was because of him that Levi was sick and suffering. Even if he could smell Hanji, and knew she was around, Hanji hadn't been able to help Levi. Sliding his hand towards Levi, it felt like forever before his fingers brushed his alpha's. Looping their little fingers together, he couldn't help but feel guilt as Levi's silver-grey eyes fluttered open, still, he forced a smile. He didn't want Levi to keep worrying "Eren..." Levi's voice was rough, and raw. Hurting his already aching heart further "Levi..." "You had me worried brat" "I'm so sorry" Coughing weakly, he wrinkled his nose at the awkward lump now stuck in his throat "Water?" Nodding, Levi slid from beside him. Rounding the bed, Levi took the glass from the bedside table into his hold, before helping him up enough to sip. It felt amazing and he couldn't help but gulp it down thirstily. When the glass was drained, Levi placed it back down, a hand taking his left as he placed his other hand on Eren's forehead "How do you feel?" "Exhausted. The baby?" "Still in there. Hanji's worried" "I'm not doing good, am I?" "No... she wants to move you to the castle, but I needed to hear what you want" "If we go, will she help you?" "I'm fine" Eren frowned "You're sick. I can smell it... it's the bullet wound, from Zeke?" "It'll heal. This is about you, not me" "Levi... don't ask me to chose. I chose you and I trust you... even if you're lying to me about your wound" Levi sighed "It's not great" "He... Zeke said our baby is a sin... that you're only with me to feed from me" Levi's expressions darkened "Eren, who's Zeke? Why did he come after us? After you? I need to know more about him" Eren found himself almost stuttering "I. He. Grisha..." Before shaking his head. This was important and he needed to focus "Grisha's son. He's a shifter" "Your brother?" Levi sounded as confused as he was "He said so... from outside the world. He said he wanted to save me... he wanted to take me away, but I wouldn't leave you" The teen's eyes welled with tears "You wouldn't wake up. I couldn't make you feed. I tore my arm up, but you wouldn't take it... I was so fucking scared you were dying and I was losing you and the baby" Levi's fingers moved up to stroke his hair "I'm still here. You're not getting rid of me that easily. Thank you for saving me" "You're still sick" "I have you" "It's not the same... ow... your baby is kicking" Levi's sadness seemed to fade a little, his eyes moving up Eren's stomach. His poor alpha probably feared he was losing the baby too "Did you... you can touch it" "I don't want to hurt you. Hanji said it's important you rest and avoid stress" "I think it'll help. They always liked your touch" Levi released his aching hand, placing his hand gently, yet firmly on his swell. It took a few moments, but the alpha let out a shaky sob "Thank Maria" "Levi... I trust your choices. I'll follow you everywhere" "We'll go. You deserve more than this" "And you'll get Hanji to look at your wounds?" "I will" Giving Levi a warm smile, Eren let his eyes drift closed again. Levi was going to get checked... he was going to be alright... he couldn't describe how relieved he was "I love you" "I love you too, Eren. So much" * Leaving Eren to sleep, Levi headed downstairs to face Hanji and the Brat Squad. He'd been avoiding them all, but now he had things he needed to talk about. Sighing heavily as he stepped off the stairs, the whole Brat Squad turned to look at him, while Hanji rose to her feet "Did you talk to him?" "Yeah. He wants to go. Mikasa, you're Eren's adoptive sister, did you ever hear the name Zeke?" Mikasa frowned, shaking her head "Are you sure? This isn't the time for games" "I don't know who or what you're talking about. How is Eren? Can we see him?" "Eren woke for a few minutes, but he's asleep again. So, you're certain you've never heard of Zeke? What about you, Armin?" "No, sir. Is something wrong?" "Possibly. Hanji, I need to talk to you" "I'll be right with you. Guys, if we're leaving, we need to pack" Jean scoffed "Pack what? Has Eren had the baby? We've all heard his screams. He must have right? Or is he still useless?" Fuck... the kid needed to learn how to keep his mouth shut "No. He's still heavily pregnant. None of you are to touch him, he can't handle being touched" Jean rolled his eyes. Snarling, Levi narrowed his "If anyone disobeys that direct order, I will find a werewolf and feed you to them, myself. Hurry up, Shitty Glasses" Hanji followed him into the kitchen, Levi sinking down into the closest chair "What did he say?" "I was shot by a group of shifters, like him" Hanji's eyes lit up "There are more like Eren?" "Some guy named Zeke. He'd Eren's older brother" "That's a lie!" Levi closed his eyes and clenched his hands into fists, trying not to snap at Mikasa's unwelcome interruption "Mikasa, go help the others. We need to leave as soon as possible" "Eren doesn't have a brother" "This doesn't concern you" "I would know if Eren had a brother... he would have told me..." Opening his eyes, he fixed Mikasa with a cold glare "This is none of your business" "Eren doesn't belong to you" "No. Eren is his own person, who has asked me to make all decisions on his behalf" Mikasa looked scandalised "Mikasa, Levi and I need to talk. Please return to the others" "I want to see Eren" "Don't you dare disturb him" "I won't disturb him. I'm his sister!" Growling, Levi pushed his chair back, marching over to the girl and grabbing her roughly by the shoulders "The last thing he wants or needs is to be disturbed right now. You'll only end up hurting him if you go to him right now" Shoving back, Levi stumbled. He opened his mouth to reply, but black spit ran from the corner. Grabbing cravat, he wiped at it "Just stay away from him" Mikasa stormed off, not commenting on what she'd just seen. He wasn't so lucky with Hanji "Want to tell me what that is?" "Spit" "It was black" "It's just left over from being fucking poisoned by Eren's shit brother" "Levi, if..." "I'm fine. Fucking drop it. We have more pressing concerns" He'd told Eren he'd get checked, and he would... once they were safely away from this place... Hanji threw her hands up in the air "Ok. Ok. What else did he say?" "That Zeke said he wanted to save him. He was the one who ripped up his own arm, because I wouldn't wake up" "I know that's been weighing on your mind" "How could it not be? You and I both know he's not ok" "Now that I know he was exposed to the Ghoul blood, it's possible that was to blame for his fever. I still don't want him stressing. Will you be able to assist in carrying him down to the cart?" "You brought a cart?" "For him. It'll be gentler on his body" "He can't stand being touched, so I'll need to stay with him. It'll be better if we can move with him without the others staring. He'll start worrying over them and what they're thinking of him" "He's too much of a sweetheart. I can send the kids out, then you can help him down" "I really want him to get some rest" "We don't have the luxury. If this Zeke has shown up to save Eren now, there has to be something more to it" "That's what I was thinking. Also, vampires and werewolves don't get on, according to him" "Really? You and Eren have been attracted to each other since day one. I'll have to remember to ask him later" "Just let him rest" "I didn't mean this very moment. Why don't you pack what you think you'll both need? You don't need to take everything" "Zeke's already been through the storeroom. I didn't tell Eren, but there were footprints through the house, and scents in the storeroom" "But if Zeke wanted to save Eren, why didn't he take him?" "Maybe he just wanted to know what Eren knew about Grisha? How the fuck am I supposed to know?" "Did he take anything?" "I don't know. Eren's been in there, so he would" "I'll leave asking him about it to you. I'll take a look and see if I can find anything out of place" "Just stay..." "Away from Eren. I know" Levi packed their essentials. If Zeke really wanted something from them, he could have, and probably would have taken it already. He didn't want to take him back to the castle, but Zeke had basically declared him the enemy, which meant he needed all the back up he could get. Waiting until he was done with the packing, he then woke Eren. His omega giving him a dopey smile, as he reached out for him "You're frowning. Did Hanji give you bad news?" "No. But we're going back to the castle soon" "How's your wound?" "Healing. How do you feel?" "Sleepy. Sore. Sleepy... and I need to use the bathroom" At least Eren was perkier than he had been "The bathroom? I think I could help with that" "I might pass out again" "If you fall off the toilet, I promise to pick you up" "So romantic" "I try. But seriously, how do you feel?" "Like shit, and fat. Really, really fat" "Because you're really, really pregnant?" "Wait? When did that happen?" "You little shit" "Just help me up. Sina. I can already smell everyone" "Mikasa was ready to break you out" "She's the last person I want to break me out" "I'm glad to hear that. Let's get you to the bathroom" Moaning as he rose, Eren then sighed as he placed his hands on his stomach "Fuck you, and fuck your dick. Look how badly you knocked me up" "Keep that up and I'll knock you up all over again" "Maybe in the future... let's just get through this pregnancy first" So Eren wanted more children with him? He actually... he wanted more?! Levi's heart swelled with pride. * Bundled up in half a dozen blankets, Levi had carried him down to the cart, where Eren was now trying to become as small as possible. The scents were almost overwhelming, and it was fucking freezing outside. No wonder every looked like they'd bitten into raw onions. Ok. So it might have been the fact he looked like shit and ready to go into labour, oh, and that Levi had threatened to kill anyone who touched him, but he could dream. It also might have been due to his tear stained face. He'd asked Levi to search the supply room for his journal and his papers, but his secret hiding spot was empty. He didn't know why someone, presumably Zeke, would take his letter to his baby. It wasn't some kind of secret code and didn't have any information on Grisha. It was private. The only reason he'd had to ask Levi to find it is because he was the more mobile one. Though no one seemed to notice just how sick he smelt... but Hanji was making Levi ride on their mare, so that meant he had to be alright... right? Ignoring the way Sasha, Connie and Jean kept looking towards his stomach. Eren watched Levi, he frowned at the way Levi seemed to slump every so often. His lips drawn in pain. Thumping the side of the cart, Levi looked his way... before proceeding to scare the shit out of him as Levi slumped... and fell off his horse. Screaming his alpha's name, Hanji pulled the carriage to a stop. Levi was laying on the ground, his whole body spasming like he was having a seizure. Screaming for Levi again, he tried to push himself up, only for his stomach to give a solid throb of pain that took his breath away "Eren!" Scrambling across the back of the cart, Armin pulled him into his arms. His first desire was to run. The feel of Armin's skin against him made him want to vomit "Eren's calm down. Hanji's got him..." "Levi... fuck... fuck..." Grunting, he grabbed his stomach. His baby was kicking up a storm or something, because it all fucking hurt! "Hanji, Eren's making noises!" Jean's yelling was followed by an "oof, what the fuck!", as Mikasa smacked him hard enough to make Eren smile slightly through the pain. Jean totally deserved it "Get down here and help me lift him" "What? Why me?" "Because you're the one complaining!" Laying Levi out, his friends were evicted from cart, as Eren cradled Levi's head the best he could. Levi's face was still pained, but his fiancé seemed calmer now he was in his arms "Eren, can you tell me more about the bullet wound?" "Why? He said he was going to talk to you" "He might have said that, but he continually insisted he was healing" "Fucking arsehole!" He would have punched Levi, had he been awake, and not the cause of Eren's heart attack "Eren, what happened when Levi was attacked?" "I... I was upstairs packing, when I heard the bang. Zeke shot him with a bullet filled with ghouls blood" "Where?" "He didn't show you? Or... chest. I pulled it out! He's supposed to be feeling better!" Hanji was less than gentle as she ripped open Levi's shirt. The wound in his lover's chest was black, and oozing "How far in was the bullet?" "I... I don't know..." Eren paled, swallowing hard to keep himself from vomiting. Clicking her fingers in his face, he looked from Levi's chest "Eren. I need you to focus. How far in was the bullet?" "I... I don't know. I used my nails to pull it out... he was... he was coughing up blood and black stuff... this... this is my fault" "Enough. You can pity yourself all you want, but it was Zeke's fault. Not yours. I need to open him up. There may be bullet fragments within in the wound" "Wouldn't... wouldn't they just heal out?" "He heals differently to you. As it is, he was shot in the chest. He should be dead from drowning on his own blood. Your blood was probably all that stopped that, but I have no idea. He never used to heal like this" "I don't know... I wasn't thinking. I couldn't think. I just wanted him to wake up" "I need to check it. Keep him under control?" "How am I supposed to do that?" "I'm sure you'll think of a way" "Should I feed him?" "By now, you probably know him better than any of us" Nodding, Eren then bit into his hand, before placing it in Levi's mouth. How could he have not told Hanji, and how could he just lie to him. He placed his trust in him. He told him he'd follow him... without Levi... he was just Eren. Tears rolled and dropped from his face onto his stomach "Eren, are you in pain? If it's too much, I can ask one of the others" "It hurts... but it hurts more that he lied to me" "He didn't want you to worry" "He still lied... I told him I'd follow him... Hanji... I... everything I have and everything I, is wrapped up in him" "He's tough. You both are, and so is that baby of yours" Eren's voice fell to a whisper "I'm so fucking scared, Hanji" "I know. But you're not alone" "I can't remember who I used to be" "You're still you. You both worry about each other so much, and you're both going to be just fine. Just try not to go into labour until I've stitched him up. I might be god like, but I've only got two hands" Eren snorted a very unsexy snot bubble "Gross... but I think he's drinking, so do it now" When the bullet pierced Levi's chest, it'd fragmented. His fiancé had been walking around with slivers of bullet and rib bone in his fucking lungs. Anyone other than Levi, or him, wouldn't have survived... Levi barely survived... with his fiancé unconscious and propped up in his arms, the rest of the trip to castle was slow and awkward. He couldn't get comfortable. He couldn't stop shaking from the pain, and he couldn't let it show. He didn't want Levi to worry, even though he was royally pissed at the man. He could have fucking died, and it would have been because he'd kept his fucking mouth shut... When he was grown arse man who should fucking know better. * Levi knew the moment he woke that he was in the shit with Eren. His fiancé was sitting next to him, reading some book, and they were in his room at the castle... He had no idea how Eren had managed the stairs, but the scowl on the teen's beautiful face told him to keep his mouth shut "Don't talk to me" "Can I ask what happened?" Eren snapped the book closed, slamming it down on the bedside table "Oh you know. You lied to my face. You walked around with bits of bone and bullet in your lung. You fell off your horse. You had a fucking seizure. You nearly stopped breathing. You didn't tell Hanji you were sick. You didn't even try to get help for yourself" "I was going to talk to her... I just wanted to be here for you" "Well you're going to fucking love this. We're under arrest" "We're what?" "Yeah. While you were fucking unconscious, I had to deal with Erwin. And everyone staring at the fat pregnant freak. There was also a werewolf attack in the capital, you know, I'm the "only one" who can shift" "What?" "God. Just go back to sleep, or clean or go take a shit. Don't speak to me" "Eren..." "Nope" "Come on" "Come on what?! No. I'm mad" "What can I do?" "Be an arsehole! Swear! Clean! I don't know, but be yourself for a fucking change! I don't want this. I don't want to be mad at you. I just... I just want you to take better care of yourself" "This, coming from you" "In my defence, I'm fucked in the head" "You're not fucked in the head. A little mixed up, but getting there" "Nooo. I'm pretty sure everyone thinks I'm crazy" "What did you do?" "I yelled at Erwin over you being unconscious, and calling us back here. When I didn't want to be here... then I made Mike carry you up here. Erwin said we weren't allowed to walk around the castle freely. I also threw up on his feet" Wrapping his arm around Eren, Levi snorted "I fucking love your style" "Don't try to sweet talk me. You have no idea what it's been like" "How long was I out?" "6 days" Levi shot up, Eren let out a giggle. A fucking giggle! He hadn't heard that sweet sound in far too long "3 days. That was payback for what you put me through" "And you? You're not..." "I'm not in labour. Hanji gave me a sedative. It like makes my body relaxed, but I can still think and walk and talk" "You took a sedative?" "I don't want to talk about it" "Eren, I'm sorry I hid this from you" "You lied to me" "I know" "You lied to Hanji" "That's nothing unusual" "You can't even be serious" "What am I supposed to say?" "I don't know. Ok. These last three days were tough. I don't like it here. I don't like the smells. I don't like the feeling. I don't like you being sick. Ok. I've gone back to being public enemy number one because other than my word, we have no evidence that Zeke even exists. There was an attack on the Capital, and everything has gone to fucking shit. I'm tried and I'm sore and Hanji insists that I need to be checked on every few hours. I can't take the look in her eyes. I can't take you nearly dying. I feel like I'm suffocating. So right now, I need you to get up, and take a shower. I need you to just pretend I'm not here, because I need space to think, but we're locked in here" "I'll talk to Erwin" "Erwin's only doing his job" "It's not his job to lock us up" "Just go take a shower or something" Crawling from his bed, which he was now appreciating in a whole new light, Levi headed into his private bathroom. A thick layer of dust covered everything except for the toilet and shower. Moving to stand in front of his mirror, he eyed his reflection as he checked his mouth and gums, finding them finally free of that black shit. Next he stripped his shirt, pulling off the bandage around his chest as he did. The wound had lost its black tinge, but still looked red and angry. It was definitely going to scar. Sighing, he reached over and turned the shower on, letting the water run as he tried to actually process everything Eren had told him. Zeke was a shifter. There had been an attack on the Capital by werewolves. Zeke had to be the one behind the attack, but why? Was this what he wanted to save Eren from? Stripping off his pants, he threw the dirty clothes into the basket. If he'd been out for three days, Erwin could have visited Eren any number of times. He could have told the teen anything, and he could have filled Eren's head with all kinds of rubbish. His omega was around 35 weeks, which left 5 weeks... maybe even 4. He didn't know how long they'd been unconscious in the living room, before he'd woken. And had his wound really been that bad? Bone and bullet fragments? He shouldn't have been up and moving if it was. Levi was just about to step into the shower when he heard the door open. Was this why Eren wanted him out the room? Because he knew Hanji was coming? Having left the door partially open, he peaked through the gap. Hanji had a tray of food, and her usual creepy smile on her face. Cursing the loudness of the shower, he soon blessed it as the pair started talking "I see lover boy finally woke up" "You have great timing. He just got into the shower" "How is he? Is he cranky?" "He's an arsehole" "I know you're mad, but it's been three days" "Three days of being locked up" "I know sweetie. I know you're not happy, but you need to rest. Did you tell him?" "I told him about Erwin and the Capital" "How did he take it?" "He wants to talk to Erwin" "Of course he does. I know you and he don't see eye to eye, but this is for your own safety" "No. It would have been safer to send Mike to warn us" "You know he couldn't do that" "No. The only reason he didn't is because he wanted Levi back. I'm just dragged along because I'm the man eating monster" "Eren, you know none of us see you like that" "If you didn't, I wouldn't be trapped here" "You're on bedrest. You're lucky you didn't lose the baby" "I'm not so sure anymore" "You're not sure if you didn't lose it?" "No. It's still there. I can feel it moving still. I mean. If I was on my own, I could run" "That would only make you look guilty" "At least I would be doing something" "You are. That bleed scared all of us, even if you did throw up on Erwin before you collapsed" That little shit. He'd left that out! Now who was lying "It was mostly slick" "Eren..." "Don't Hanji. I'm being a good boy. I'm taking all your pills. I'm staying locked up. I'm doing what you all want" Hanji sighed heavily, sinking to sit on the edge of the bed beside Eren "We all have our obligations. In a perfect world, you'd be free to love Levi and to have your baby in peace" "In a perfect world, Levi wouldn't be like this. I don't want to be mad. I don't want to hate him. I don't want to be mean" "I know you don't, sweetie. I brought some soup up for lunch. It's fine, I tasted it myself" "Thanks Hanji, but I just want to sleep" "I've got to stay until that shorty gets out the shower. Now he's awake, Erwin will want to talk with him" "Then can you take him up to see him?" "You know I can't" "Then you can wait while I nap. I don't even care anymore" "If you didn't care, you wouldn't be like this. Once we find proof it was Zeke, we can clear your name" "How? By announcing that there's life beyond the walls? And that they're all monsters like me?" "Hey, just because you're upset, doesn't mean you can give up. We haven't given up on you, so don't give up on us" "Thanks Hanji... I still think I want to sleep. I don't feel that great" "Alright. And don't forget to watch for bleeds or fluid loss" "I know. And to monitor the baby's movements" "It was dangerous to move you from the house as it was" "I know. Just ignore me" "I would never ignore you" Eren let Hanji help him lay down, the women fussing with the pillows for him. Drawing back, Levi stepped under the shower. Angered over what he'd heard. He didn't know the full story, but his mind was more than happy to fill in the blanks. This pregnancy had been one drama after another. How could Eren possibly want to have another baby, when he wanted to run away as it was. He'd just been lectured over hiding things, now Eren was doing the same thing! The shower helped bring his temper back under control. Dressed in just the towel around his waist, he stepped out into the bedroom "Do you need something, Shitty Glasses?" "Only to check on my favourite patient" "Eren's sleeping" "I know he is. But you're not! How are you feeling? And be honest. Eren's had a rough time over all of this" "Eren's had a rough time?" He didn't mean to sound so bitter. He was supposed to be playing it cool "He had a little bit of a bleed. He fainted from everything, and moving him was a bit too stressful. He's alright. He woke up as soon as he hit the ground. The first thing he did was ask me to make sure you were alright, and then he bossed Mike into bringing you up here, instead of the infirmary in case you got violent" "And when was he going to tell me all of this?" "You two are really hopeless. You both used to be so good at talking. Now you're both scared of hurting each other and you're both getting mad at each other. Do you know what he said? He said he didn't know who he was anymore and that he was nothing without you" "He's much more than nothing" "Then talk to him" "And what do I tell him?" "I don't know" "Well I don't know either" Caught up in talking to Hanji, Levi barely dodged the pillow hurled at him "You tell me when you're hurt! And you tell Hanji!" Hanji bit back her smile "You didn't tell me you had a bleed!" "Because I'm mad at you! It doesn't feel great, does it?! I'm also the reason you nearly fucking died!" "No. You're psychotic piece of shit brother is!" "He was after me. Me, who you were stuck with!" "I wasn't stuck! I could have left you there!" "Then why didn't you? I've been sick. I've been useless!" "You were doing so much better! Until all this shit happened! You just don't believe in yourself anymore!" "How can I?!" "Easily! You're still the same shitty brat I fell in love with!" "I don't feel like it! I feel like I'm draining the life out of you!" "You're not! I'm sick of hearing that! I wouldn't have asked you to marry me if I thought that!" "Then why didn't you talk to Hanji!" "Because... because... fuck. Shit. It's embarrassing. I keep saying I'll protect you, but I never protect you when it really counts!" "You protect me from myself! You guide me through my stupid panic attacks. You look after me and your baby! You put up with my shit and you make all this shit I can't forget bareable! I'm sick of relying on you, but you're the only one I can. You're the only one who knows..." Levi blinked. He hadn't thought of it like that. Eren had a shit ton of fears and triggers they'd had to navigate through together. But he had been helping... even when he felt useless and didn't even realise it. He'd just don't what had felt natural... so he wasn't the arsehole he thought he was? "You protected me from me. You protected our baby from me..." "If you can yell at each other, you can talk. I'll wait a few hours before letting Erwin know you're awake. And congratulations on your engagement" "Not a word" "Awww. You know we have to have a party" "We can have a party once this mess passes" "I'll hold you to it. Eren, let me know if anything changes. Or let Levi know..." "I hate you both" "We know" Leaving them alone, Levi skipped getting dressed, in favour of climbing into bed next to Eren. His fiancé had his face hidden in his pillow "I'm sorry I fucked up" "No. It's my fault. I hid things from you because I didn't want you to worry, then got mad when you did the same thing" "That must mean we're pathetically in love if we care about each other's feelings and shit" "I love you. And honestly, I'm really over being pregnant. I want the baby, but I'm exhausted. My body is exhausted. I feel like I'm trapped inside myself" "I can't say I understand, but I get it. I don't like seeing you looking so tired and sick" "I just want to give birth in peace. I don't feel like I can do that here" "I wouldn't have brought you back here, if it wasn't for the fact you need the medical care. It's more than I can provide alone" "You didn't bring me back. The others did" "Did they say anything?" "After you collapsed, no one dared to" "I thought I could make it to the castle" "You shouldn't have tried. It took Hanji an hour to patch you up, and to get all the stuff out. An hour and it would have meant you wouldn't have been unconscious for three days" "What about you? What about the bleed?" "It was mostly slick, but with blood, it looked way worse. I don't know how this baby is still in here" "Somedays, I don't know either" "Levi, what are going to do. It had to have been Zeke, right? The outside world is finally turning against us..." "I don't know. I'll have to talk to with Erwin about the attack" "I don't think he believes me. The fact that I'm the only one who talked to Zeke, doesn't really mean much" "Mike caught those strange scents. And your notes were stolen" "They... I was writing to our baby. In case something happened to me. I wanted it to know how much I love them. And, I wrote a list about everything I could remember that the Government did to me. I wanted to process and when the time came, I thought it might help Hanji with her research" "You're always thinking, aren't you?" "Sometimes I wonder if I'm still chained down there. If this is all a dream, and that I'm dreaming about the wolves because I want someone to save me" "You're not down there..." "I know. But we both know how fucked up our minds can be" "That's true" "Levi... I'm, um, I'm sorry. I'm happy we could talk and I don't hate you" "Maybe we wouldn't have stressed each other out so badly, if we'd talked sooner" "Did my emotionally constipated fiancé just admit we need to talk about feelings more?" "Maybe. Don't tell anyone" "Given that the sentence didn't even have "shit" in it, there's no way they'd believe me. I actually miss your crappy jokes" "I'll up my game" "Good" "For now, do you want to cuddle?" "I'd love that. There's so many scents here. It's sent my senses into overdrive" "I'm sorry you had to face it all alone" "I'm calling do-over on this last like week or whatever" "We can't do-over a week" "Whatever. It was stress or something. We're better than this, right?" Freeing himself of the towel, Levi held his arms open for Eren to wriggle into. His fiancé immediately curling to him and nuzzling into his chest. It was tender, but holding Eren was worth it "Yeah, we are"

5 notes · View notes