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#by kiss i mean respectfully give me a thumbs up. thanks for understanding
mindninjax · 3 years
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Iron and Wine (3)
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Chapter 3- Lovely Bitter Water
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Erwin Smith x fem!reader (Royalty AU)
Warnings: Erwin can't keep his fucking hands to himself, sexual tension, some dirty talk, nightmares,
WC: 3.5K
a/n: Be wary of the warnings on this one just in case anyone is uncomfortable with it. But This chapter contains humor and sexual tension and by far was my favorite chapter to write so far.
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The high stone ceiling peels away above you to show the sky. It is clear and dark, save for a thousand twinkling lights, the souls of those you’ve lost shining down upon you. You blink, once, twice, as the wind tickles your skin and dances merrily through your hair. There is a warm pale glow above you and your mind is wandering into the cosmos as you feel a pair of cool lips on your forehead. A glowing ball of white light beckons to you as you sit up and gaze around the swaying tall grass around you.
This is a dream.
You stand, the dress you’re wearing swaying with the wind like a synchronized dance. The air smells clean and fresh, like the trees back home. You take a step forward, smiling to yourself and basking in the white light shining down on you. The moon sits large on the horizon across the field you’re in and fills you with joy as you skip freely toward it. You laugh and it rings out into the field like a carol of bells.
You’re stopped in your tracks as a large white hoof stomps in front of you. The ground shakes from the impact and you can see it start to crumble. You look up and there is a beast with the face of a goat and the body of a man sitting atop the saddle. It’s eyes are blacker than an abyss, staring at you blankly. They’re cold, sucking the very life from you.
Suddenly the wind stops and it is deathly silent. The air no longer smells fresh and clean but reeks of rotten flesh. You whip your head around fear creeping up the back of your neck as the clear night sky forms dark stormy clouds above your head. The sky bursts open with an ear splitting crack and wailing misery from above can be heard. It is earth shattering, rumbling the world and making your ears bleed.
Horrific images flash before your eyes in quick succession. Animals' skin and bone disintegrate in his presence. When he dismounts from his horse the land dies beneath his feet and when he takes a step blood stains the earth.
You scream but the sound is stolen and swallowed by the darkness he brings. The last thing you see before it takes over you completely, is the beast opening his mouth, a sinister crooked smile on his lips as he utters the words “I have come and with me I bring death.”
You awake with a gasp and shoot up in the large bed. Your vision is blurred as the remnants of the dream fade away and the bright morning light breaks through the haze. It takes you a few minutes to recognize your surroundings, but it comes flying back to you when you see Historia lying peacefully next to you in bed.
You are in the wolf king’s castle, acting as what he refers to as a “guest” when really you are his prisoner. Historia helped you take a bath last night, washed your hair and dressed you in a light but extravagant sleeping gown. When it was time to retire for the night, she’d bowed to you and asked to be excused. Remembering how fond she was of the room, you’d suggested she stay here with you and sleep. It might’ve been a bit selfish on your part, her presence was calming and her soft breath next to your ear was the only thing that lulled you into slumber.
But that dream almost certainly was a warning. You’d prayed for clarity before you went to sleep and the Mother provided. However, you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t woken up more confused than before. What was she trying to tell you? If Erwin Smith was in fact the enemy, the bringer of destruction and death, why did Her whispers stay your blade?
You shut your eyes tightly, put your index finger and thumb together while intertwining your other fingers and kiss the tip before bowing your head. “Forgive me Mother. I do not understand what it is I’m supposed to do. Erwin Smith is the enemy, so how do I stop him and save your children?” You whisper quietly under your breath.
A bubbling warmth pools in your gut when you think about the Wolf King and you don’t like the way it makes your heart thrum in your chest like a caged bird. You don’t understand what part he’s to play, whether you should trust him or not. But one thing is for certain, The Mother does not want him dead. You roll your eyes before getting off the bed and walking to the window to open the heavy curtains and let in the sun’s warmth.
Historia still sleeps peacefully on the bed, her even breathing occasionally interrupted by soft snores. You smile as you watch her, curled up on the bed, innocent and lovely. Perhaps you were wrong to think you couldn’t trust any of the people in the castle. As you watch the bustling people below from the window, you take a deep breath and make your decision. The only people who have actually shown you their true selves are Erwin and the little dog he keeps next to him. Which means, the only ones you have to distrust right now are those two. It would make for an easier time if you were being forced to stay here.
Then it’s settled, you’ll be cordial to the others and keep your guard up around Erwin and his knight. He may think you’ll agree to his plan, but you won’t. The fact that you can’t kill him is bothersome but you can definitely take this time to learn more about how he rules and bring that viable information back to your people.
Two quick knocks on the door draw your eyes away from the people below and your body instantly crouches into defense. You shake your head, trying to break the automatic defensive edge that is built into your character. Cordial and pleasant. That’s what you need to be. A nervous voice on the other side of the door calls out.
“Good Morning my lady, King Erwin demands your presence in the council room.”
You squint your eyes in frustration. Demands?
You wrench the door open to see the tall farm pup man standing before you. He jumps a bit at the sudden swing of the door and his eyes drift down your body before he turns red and looks away nervously. You don’t realize how thin the garment you’re wearing is. Your nipples bead in the cool air in the chamber and a breeze flows through your legs making it cling to your curves. You smile a little to yourself at his obvious embarrassment.
“You’re one of the knights he sent to stand outside my door, yes? To make sure I don’t run off?” you say, raising an eyebrow.
He still doesn’t look at you, but nods his head and says “Yes my lady.”
“I see, and you are Ser…?”
“Moblit my lady. Umm if you don’t mind me saying, maybe you would feel more comfortable in more appropriate attire? The King is demanding I escort you to the council chamber at once,” he says again.
You study him for a bit. He’s cute with warm trusting eyes. You can tell he’s not faking how nervous he seems to be around you but if you were to guess why Erwin would keep someone like him around, he’s probably levelheaded on the battlefield. You do raise your eyebrow in frustration at his use of the word “demands” again but you clear your throat and look at him.
“Well, thank you for guarding the door Ser Moblit,” you say bowing to him.
You smile brightly at him as he’s caught off guard by your pleasant attitude. He blushes again when you complete the bow and gaze back into his large brown eyes. You can hear Historia yawning and waking up behind you. You hear her little gasp as she jumps out of bed and runs to the door, mortified at the way you’re dressed in front of Moblit.
“You can’t just answer the door dressed like that! It’s indecent!” she squeaks, trying to cover you as you laugh warm heartedly at her. The last thing you say to him before Historia pulls you back into the room and shuts the door is “Please tell the King to get fucked in the ass by his horse before he demands anything of me again.”
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Erwin lifts his clear eyes from the scroll of parchment at the sound of the heavy doors opening. The sound echoes loudly around the room creating a grand entrance. He stops scribbling and peaks an eyebrow when he sees only one person entering the council room. Moblit clears his throat uncomfortably as he approaches. All eyes are on him as he bows respectfully avoiding the King’s gaze.
Erwin speaks calmly, no hint of frustration in his voice. “Moblit, why is my guest not with you?”
Moblit bows again before responding, “My apologies sire, she...refused to come.”
“Really now? Did she give a reason why?” He asks as if he’s unbothered with the disobedience.
“N..no sire.”
Erwin smiles to himself, thumping his long fingers on the large wooden table. Of course you wouldn’t come. This is exactly what he expected. If you had shown up, that would’ve been too easy and not your style. “Not giving a reason certainly doesn’t sound like something the silver tongued little lioness would do. Come, tell me her words.”
“S..she requested that your majesty… ahem… be fucked in the ass by your horse,” Moblit stutters and shifts his eyes and it looks like it physically pains him to say this to his King. The room goes silent, Hange tries to keep a snicker in, Levi growls underneath his breath, and the others watch Erwin carefully.
He looks back down to his parchment and continues scribbling. “Nifa.” He says not looking up as he continues to write. Nifa jumps at the sound of her name. She sits in the corner of the room, large rolls of parchment are draped over the side of the small table she sits at. “Yes, Your Grace?”
“Is there anything on the roster after sunset?”
Nifa shuffles through the parchment as her eyes scan over the schedule. “No, Your Grace.”
“Excellent. Please add ‘fuck my horse’ to the roster for just after nightfall. Thank you.”
Hange’s snicker erupts into laughter as Nifa scribbles in the addition and Erwin smirks to himself.
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You sit in front of the large vanity mirror, the candles dripping wax down the candle holder. You stare into the fire, daydreaming of leaving this place as the last remnants of sunlight become swallowed by the horizon. You’ve been cooped up in this room all day, refusing all who came to the door with food and gifts of clothes from the King.
“I still can’t believe you told Ser Moblit to tell the King that. I’ve never heard anyone speak like that about His Highness,” Historia says nervously as she brushes your hair. You’re holding a silver goblet full of wine that was brought up to your room, a peace offering, the woman who’d given it to you said. It wouldn’t be here if not for Historia asking to sample it. It’s true you’ve taken a very intense liking to Historia. She truly feels like your only friend here.
You sniff the wine and wrinkle your nose in disgust. It smells processed and fake, not at all like the wine Carla makes back home. Erwin must think you a fool. As if you’d drink something he’d present to you as a gift. It could be poisoned.
You set the cup down as Historia moves to braid intricate little braids at the crown of your head and let the rest flow freely down your back.
“Well, you’ve never left this castle. Outside these walls, the people don’t speak fondly of your king,” you scold her.
“Why not? King Erwin has done nothing but help me since he found me in my village,” she says seriously.
“What do you mean?” You turn around to gaze at her in confusion. It has occurred to you that you haven’t asked her anything about herself and it saddens you. Your gaze softens as you look at her and she smiles her bright smile at you before a firm knock on your door makes the both of you jump.
“Don’t,” she says, putting a hand in front of you to stop you from moving. “We don’t need a repeat of this morning. You probably almost killed Moblit. Put this on I’ll get the door for you,” she says handing you a silk robe to cover the thin nightgown you wear.
You chuckle as she walks to the door and opens it warily. You hear her squeak in surprise and turn to see her bowing lowly and Erwin pushing the door open and stepping into the room. You stand quickly, pulling the robe up over your arms and glaring as he enters.
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” he says warmly to Historia. She blushes and shakes her head quickly, her blonde locks hitting her cheeks.
“No, Your Grace. My lady was just getting ready to sleep for the night,” she replies, still holding the door, face full of shock.
Erwin’s eyes rake up and down your figure and he smiles that cocksure smile he’s famous for. “Yes, I can see that. Historia, would you mind giving me and the Lioness a moment of privacy?” he asks, bending down to take her hand into both of his.
You’re steaming, grinding your teeth as you watch Historia’s face grow pink and she nods wordlessly to him. “No! Historia stays with me. Whatever you have to say, you can say in front of her.” You step between her and the door and she looks nervously between you and him. He gives her a knowing look and she scurries past you, whispering in your ear quickly. “I’ll be back when he leaves.”
When she closes the door quietly behind her, you glare up at Erwin who continues smiling warmly at you. “I see you’re not a fan of the wine I had sent up for your pleasure,” he says walking to the vanity and picking up the goblet. He takes a sip, then closes his eyes and relishes in the sweet taste. “This is the best wine in the entire kingdom, made specifically for the King.” You curl your lip up in disgust.
“It tastes that way. Like it was only meant to please you. It lacks the care, the love for the vine and fruit that you would be able to taste in each sip,” you explain, rolling your eyes. Not like he would understand anyway. A spoiled king with servants to do his every bidding would never understand the time and care it takes to produce good wine.
“Hmm I suppose it does,” he says, eyeing you curiously. You can tell he’s enjoying this, the way his sneaky sapphire eyes move slowly up your body, lingering on the spread of your hips and the curve of your breast. You turn away from him in disgust.
“Why are you here?”
He feigns shock, eyes growing wide and he puts a hand to his chest. “Why, my lady, I thought you summoned me here. Surely I didn’t misinterpret Moblit’s message.”
Confusion floods your face as you squint and question his sanity. “Are you mad? I told Ser Moblit no such thing,” you say, shaking your head.
“Hmm, I thought for sure being fucked by my own horse was some kind of coded message. It is quite sudden I will admit but I have had many who crave me and I will not tell a lie, I am fascinated by what is beneath your lovely gown,” he says casually walking over to stand in front of you and smile down smugly.
You can feel your face heating at the insinuation. As if you’d ever invite him to your room, least of all for that. You sputter a bit before quickly retorting, “Is that what you tell all the women you try to seduce into a pact with you? I am not that weak and I have met many who were worth craving.”
You see the shock flash across his face and return his smug smile. His expression turns dark then and he lowers his voice and moves so close to you that you can smell the lingering scent of the wine he sipped.
“Do not continue to insult me. Your snide comments are only as entertaining as I continue to allow them to be. You would’ve been dead a long time ago were it not for the way I enjoy your tongue sliding over your lips while you say them,” he breathes and the warmth envelops you and makes your head a bit dizzy.
You keep your composure though, opting to continue to tease and make him as uncomfortable as he made you. You’re determined to expose his weakness and walk out of this castle vowing to destroy him and everything he holds dear.
“A shame that even the great Wolf King can be brought to his knees by a woman,” you reply sarcastically.
“Forgive me, but you are mistaking a fleeting lust-filled gaze for something more. I shall not kill you until we’ve come to an agreement, that or...I have at least tasted you upon my lips. And once I have—and I will one day—the fascination will cease. But until then, enjoy your stay in my castle and please read over the document I’ve provided. I am sure it will help with your decision.”
Your hand is itching to slap him across his chiseled jaw. You crane your hand back quickly but he catches it and throws you against the nearest wall. He pins you against it with his large body looming over you, the hand you were about to use to slap him pinned above your head and the other at your side. He tightens his grip on your wrists, a thick muscular thigh wedged between yours, partaking in the warmth radiating from your cunt.
“You’d dare to strike your king?” He grunts in a husky voice as you struggle in his grasp. His breath washes over you again as he cranes his neck down to drink in your scent.
“You are not my king,” you hiss through your teeth.
“Ahh there is the fierceness that makes my cock weep. A true lioness. Breaking you will be the greatest victory I’ve ever tasted. ”
You’re ashamed at how his words affect you. He pushes his thigh ever so slightly up against your folds and you gasp as his cock twitches against your thigh. He stares into your eyes, half lidded as his breathing increases.
His musk strangely reminds you of home, it’s woody and spicy like roasted chestnuts during the Celestial Ides festival. Hints of rose linger around the edges and you try very hard not to be drawn in by it. Your face burns as his eyes shift down to your lips and he leans in to brush his against your neck.
His lips are surprisingly soft and he’s very skilled at swiping them against your collarbone and up your jaw in such a way that would have you pleading for more if it were not him. You shudder and hold in the moan that desperately craves to be released before wriggling in his grasp to try and free yourself. Your hand moves to the tiny hidden slit you made in the robe when Historia wasn’t looking.
He moves gently up to your jaw, dragging his lips over your soft skin. He only stops when he feels a cool sharp prick right beneath his rib cage.
“Let. Me. Go. Or I’ll carve out your heart and feed it to your dogs,” you say between clenched teeth and heavy sensual breaths. You push the dagger harder into his side and it pricks through the fabric of his shirt, drawing blood.
He chuckles and releases his hold on you, stepping back with his hands raised in surrender. He pulls a rolled up piece of parchment from the inside of his loose sleeves and places it onto the vanity before saying, “I should’ve known you’d have a weapon hidden on your person. I guess you’ve become a bigger distraction to me than I previously assumed.”
You wipe your neck and face where his lips were in disgust, holding the dagger and crouching ready to spring should he come closer to you.
“Get out. And do not ever touch me again.”
He only smiles a warm hearted smile, as if nothing has happened and walks to the door to open it.
“Until next time, my lady,” and shuts the door quietly behind him.
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annoyingloverbear · 4 years
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ASANO GAKUSHUU X READER HEADCANNONS
Before you ask......don't ask. Yes I like assassination classroom too.
This is a HC about Y/n and Gakushuu attending the same high school.
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Ohh boy do I tell you this boi fell hard for you.
And by 'fell' I mean literally fell.
It was one of those rare occasions his father being the disciplined father he is made Gakushuu walk home from school just because he didn't eat his roasted asparagus in dinner last night.
He didn't really mind tho. His home wasn't that far and he liked to see what's going on in the outside peasant world sometimes.
As he was passing a convenient store, he heard some commotion in the alley behind it.
He ignored it and started to walk his way, but he saw a glimpse of a grey uniform skirt and snapped his head towards you.
He saw you, clad in Kunigioka's grey uniform and surrounded by three tattooed bulk men.
"Come on little girl, just keep us company for some karaoke. You see my friends and I we all are really bad singers and would love some help."______"What makes you think I'm good at singing?"________" Oh I can tell you are naturally good at it little bird! Your angelic voice is like as sweet as honey to my ears."________"Back off."_________"What?"________"I said back off you pathetic excuse of a human being before I break your willy and shove it down your throats."________"YOU STUPID BITCH!!!"
He raised his hand, but before he could even swing you neck sliced him in the throat and kicked him down there. He clutched himself as you once again kicked him in his ribs and hope that the blow was enough to keep him down for a bit. You grabbed your heavy aluminium water bottle (those things hurt guys😭 not that I've been hit by one but I accidentally hit myself. it's a great, heavy yet non-obvious self defense tool so carry one around👍) and swung it towards one of his friends. A sickening clang could be audibly heard as you hit him in the head and Congratulations!! You eliminated one more player.
You turned around and swung it towards yet another person who skillfully twisted and yanked your aluminium bottle away from you. This person was similar to your build and was standing in a defensive position, so you kicked the only thing available to you, his shin.
You were surprised as you heard a rather boyish yelp as your victim fell to the ground and grabbed his aching leg. Only then you realized......
Shit it's the previous headmaster's son.
"Oh no!! I didn't mean to kick you are you okay?"_________"I'm fine thank you."
You moved your hand towards the part of his leg which was sprained and saw that he flinched. Clearly he was in pain and seeing that he took care of one of the guys who was hitting on you felt bad so you took him to your house to treat his injury no matter how much he refused.
That was it. That's how he fell for you.
He expected himself to fall for someone who was at the same level of genius as him, but apparently he was wrong.
Why you ask he fell for you? Because you were the only one who can kick his ass purple and speak sweet words to him at the same time.
Seeing that you were an average student, not too good not too bad, he didn't really have a problem with sharing his feelings for you with someone.
The first one to notice it was not Ren, but Karma. Or you could say that Karma found his theory to be correct as he eavesdropped on Gakushuu telling Ren about how he felt for you.
Ren, knowing his manipulating skills encouraged Gakushuu to manipulate one of the teachers to transfer you from class C to class A.
And so you did.
Gakushuu, Ren along with Karma and you. This was a particularly chaotic classroom.
You weren't really complaining, as your grades got better the day you stepped in the class. But you can't shake the feeling that ten pairs of eyes were watching your every movement.
(And lol that was so true😂)
Gakushuu only respectfully watched you and your subtle movements. The way you'd chew on your pencil or nails when you were stuck, the way your eyes turned big round and innocent every time you didn't understand a concept, the way you'd pick on your peach fuzz on your face when you were anxious. Every single habit, every little thing he loved about you, he would have it memorized. Heck when he was feeling stressed out about his future company finances (yes he's planning big) he would pick on his own peach fuzz and smile like an idiot as his heart relaxes and flutters at the same time.
Ren however, watched for your responses to guys. Every time the handsome professor walked in, (admit it, we all have one at some point in our life😏) you would sit up straight, your spine rid of any slouchiness from studying. The way you would cross your legs so your skirt rides up just a bit, and the way your gaze turned sly and your smirk naughty, yes this boy is serious about helping his best friend. Heck he would even come up to you and talk to you to get some type of reaction towards him, but figures out you didn't really like him (ouch!😢)
But Karma stared. And by stared I literally mean stared. Bore holes in the back of your head by staring at you too much. He didn't understand that a guy as corrupt as Gakushuu would fall for a disheveled angel like you. It's not that you weren't beautiful, but the combination of scary principal's son and a smol fluffy bean didn't seem very safe. At times you would even find Karma behaving as an older brother to you. And you weren't one to complain but rather happy that someone in here truly cares for you than judge you for your grades.
Add 7 other girls who were suspicious of you and that's all the people who keep staring at you during the time you're in class.
Every morning you hand in your homework, it was always Gakushuu. You would hand in your homework, he would scan it once and turn around to check others'.
But you knew better than that.
After school was over, you would make your way to the hallway but a strong grip held you back.
"We need to work on your Social Studies. You suck at it."______"But shuu!!!"_______"No buts. Get in the library and wait for me there."
He would drag you to the library and make you study your worst subject (which isn't fun at all🤢) but he would make it a LOT easier for you to understand.
Of course Ren gave him some tips to flirting. Hold her pinky, look in her eyes, compliment her and yada yada yada yada yada......
He did try one of them, but he almost had a heart attack from his heart beating so fast that he decided not to listen to his minio- I mean friend anymore and do it his way.
And honestly he loves his way!!
He loved the cute nicknames you made for him while you whined for him to release you. He loved it the way your face lightens up when he explains there was an easier way to solve an equation.
All the nervousness is his system had vanished.
He also got to the point where when you got an obviously easy question wrong, he would pinch your cheeks while grinning wide.
This made study time a lot easier for you.
You weren't aware that he was like that for and with you only. Only you made him feel that way.
But you found out soon when he got TOO comfortable one day and let it slip out.
"Y/n I think I have a crush on you."
As soon as he said it, blood rushed to your cheeks and drained from his.
Both of you were staring at each other for a hot minute before you broke the silence.
"You're kidding aren't you? I'm not even that smart or that much of a genius in anything. I- but-"
"Y/n I know that. But it's just something about you that I love. I- I can't express in words how much I adore you."
You were starstruck.
Asano Gakushuu. THE Asano Gakushuu likes you!!!!
But you still refused to believe yourself AND his words. Wondering if he was turning into a playboy like Ren.
All you could say was "Then show me."
The library was quiet and you two specifically picked up a spot away from other students, the librarian and surveillance cameras so both of you can goof off. Who knew that this was also the perfect place to kiss?
He gently took your hand as he first stared at your eyes and shifted his gaze to your lips. You acted confident as if you knew how to kiss but god knows you kicked the ass of your first boyfriend before he could even hold your hand.
His gaze stayed on your lips as he licked his and visibly gulped. You wanted to throw a snarky remark but seeing the boy was as edged as a cat you wouldn't dare.
Bringing one of his hands up to your cheek he slightly tilted his head as he came near you before stopping right where your lips weren't touching his but you could feel his minty breath. Obviously waiting for you if you were okay with this, you decided to close that painful space between the two of you.
As soon as your lips touched his, he was in charge. This wasn't a particularly deep or fast kiss. You weren't digging your tongues in each other's mouth but rather just moving your lips to each other, as if giving silent yet intimate messages to each other. His lips slightly glided over yours, and you definitely knew that the way he was kissing you, he was an expert hidden within an amateur. The kiss wasn't heated or passionate in any way, but it was sinfully sweet.
It lasted for about a minute, but felt like an eternity.
Pulling away he stared at you again softly before saying "Thank You" and intertwining your fingers with his.
You were too shocked to react to anything. You were an average student. You got into fights. Your mom always yells at you to behave. Your dad keeps telling you to improve your temper. Why the hell does this boy like you?
He noticed you were staring at him the same way you stared at the blackboard during class when the professor was teaching the quantum theory for the first time.
Now that this boy had finally kissed you, he was bold enough to reach out his thumb and running it over your lower lip before popping it in his mouth.
"Pineapple flavoured lip balm, huh? I thought strawberry was the preferred choice when it came to anything for girls. Including......" his eyes lowered to your legs which felt like they were bare naked in the tiny skirt.
"Shuu!!!! Don't stare at me!!" You shoved him away as he laughed and you covered your face with your sweater paws.
"I'm sorry dear. You are just so adorable I couldn't help myself." He said while stroking your hair.
Little did they know a certain playboy on the other side of the library was paying attention to them the whole time and a redhead was poking his head from above one of the bookshelves.
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whohaveibeenletting · 3 years
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Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Description: Circa 2013, Thor tries to get Steve involved in an Asgardian party. Instead, Steve finds a nice girl he just wants to protect.  Warnings: Oral (female receiving), loss of virginity, innocence kink, dubious consent, Steve is manipulated, Thor is not a nuanced character in this. Written largely from Steve’s perspective. Overall it is dark-ish. Disclaimer: We’re all friends here. We can acknowledge that virginity is a construct and virgins aren’t any purer than than everyone else, but it’s kinda hot to pretend otherwise.   Word Count: 4811
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The water's clean and warm and green. I’m scared of getting in.
‘A true Asgardian celebration.’
That’s what Thor had described this as when he invited Steve to his home the month following Loki’s defeat. In his head, Steve had imagined alcohol, which posed no danger to him, no matter how strong. Prompted by his worst worries of Thor pulling him in to some kind of battle off world, he’d put this visit off for as long as possible, giving him time to prepare an array of excuses should he be asked to get involved in a conflict he has no part in.
He was not prepared for a room full of writhing bodies. People on their knees, their backs; everything on display. The room smells heady with wine and the mass of Asgardians sharing pleasure everywhere. He feels Thor’s hand on his shoulder, urging him towards a woman ready on the floor. Her head tilts back, her lips part invitingly.
Steve hears himself apologise to the woman in front of him. Without another word he’s ducking under Thor’s arm, hurrying out the first door he sees and trying to ignore the thunderous laughter which follows him down a long hallway.
Familiar shame floods through him. He feels the resentment in his chest, tight in his throat.
Must he always going to be the butt of the joke?
Some warning would have been nice, Steve thinks, would’ve declined more politely, if he’d given me half a chance. That poor woman, degrading herself like that for a man who didn’t even want her. His mind stays on that woman. Open and waiting. He wonders how that would have played out if he’d approached her, not that he ever would have. But maybe if he’d just let her-
Earlier, Steve had been shown a room where he’d been told he would be sleeping. When he finds himself back there, he stares at the bed and contemplates the prospect of staying the night. The possibility of Thor trying to pressure him into another rendezvous seems high.
He can’t avoid Thor. Eventually Steve will have to see him if he wants to go home. Steve doesn’t know anyone else, doesn’t have the first idea about how to leave this place on his own. Something about a gateway. Something about a bridge.
Christ, he just has to go. As soon as possible. Even here, when he’s on his own, he feels out of place. He thinks about the apartment he grew up in. It had two bedrooms, a kitchen, and a bathroom, but the whole thing was half the size of this single room meant only for sleeping. He doesn’t belong here. It was clear to him before, and it’s clear to him now.
With resignation, Steve takes determined steps towards the door when a woman rounds the corner suddenly. You just miss walking straight into his chest. He watches you reel a little, taking a couple steps back so that you can look him in the eye without craning your neck too much.
You correct yourself quickly. Hands behind your back, a pleasant smile on your pretty face. It dawns on him then that you’re a servant, dressed as the others were; a white linen dress. A sick pantomime of innocence.
“I’ve been sent to ask if there’s anything you need, Captain,”
“No,” he says sharply, feeling a little guilt when you flinch, but not enough to delay himself. “I just want to get out of here.”
“I am afraid it is impossible for you to leave without his permission.”
“Permission?” Steve barks, raising his eyebrows.
“Unfortunately,” you answer, voice shaking a little. “His Royal Highness is still occupied with the celebration. If you want to avoid that it would be best to wait until morning to speak to him.”
The morning? Steve sighs, defeated, and nods in answer.
“I apologise for any offence, Captain. But if you need anything you need only call.” You make to turn and leave, but guilt forces him to keep talking to you.
“I am sorry for being curt, Ma’am. I’m new to all of this. Where I’m from, people aren’t so...open.”
“There is nothing to apologise for, Captain. I have been told that Odinson parties can often be overwhelming.”
That gives him pause; the prospect of a like mind in this place more comforting than he’d like to admit. “You mean, you’ve never...”
“No,” you say quietly, frowning. “Well, not yet. They told me I’m supposed to start soon, actually.”
“You don’t seem too happy about it.”
You pause. Steve watches you trying to read him; trying to work out if he’s trustworthy enough to share your thoughts with. He keeps his face serious, wanting you to know that he means to listen with care. Instead, you tense. “It is an honour to serve any member of the royal household. I’m very lucky to have been gifted my position-”
“Hey, you don’t need to do that with me,” he says, smiling at you, keeping his voice gentle. You’re looking at him like a scared rabbit. Steve feels his heart swell with worry for the girl in front of him, trying to hide your distress. “If you tell me, maybe I can help.”
Suddenly, there are tears in your eyes.
“I don’t know what to do!” You cry, covering your face with your hands.
"Let’s sit,” he says, directing you to the bed in the middle of the room.
Shaking your head and wiping desperately at your wet eyes, you protest. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
When you try to make for the door, Steve grasps you around the shoulders, his determination to understand your distress intensifying. “I said to sit.” He drops down beside you, keeping close in case you try to run off again. “I want to help you. But I can’t that you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”
Steve watches your fingers twist into the material of your skirt.
“It’s just that I’ve never done anything with a man.” You look up at him, your bottom lip shaking, eyelashes wet with tears. “I’m scared of the pain.”
“I’m sure Thor wouldn’t hurt you,”
“But he will!” You cry. "That’s what happens, the first time you’re there. They’ll make a game of it. Especially when they realise that no one’s ever touched me.”
“Jesus,” Steve curses, his stomach turning for this innocent girl. Your sobbing begins anew, and he places a comforting hand on your arm, rubbing his thumb along your soft skin. “I could talk to Thor. I could ask him to give you another job.”  
“There’s no allowance for special treatment. We all have our roles, and I have to take part. I can only hope someone gentle will take me first.”
Steve thinks about the room he just came from; the heady smell, the writhing bodies, the chorus of groans. It didn’t sit right with him. Experiencing it again would be torture. But this girl, pure and virtuous; you’re as hesitant as he is, if not more so. He cannot allow you to experience it without protection, without a watchful eye keeping the brutal men you describe from getting anywhere near your untried body.
“I could  make sure that you’re treated respectfully,”
“You would do that?”
“Yes. I won’t lie to you, the thought of going back to that room is not a pleasant one.” He smiles as comfortingly as possible. “But it’s important that you’re kept safe, so I’ll go back anyways.”
You look up at him. Your pretty eyes are sparkling with tears now starting to wane.
“You’re gentle,” you say, thoughtfully, hopefully. Steve sees where you’re headed, and shakes his head, trying to remain kind but firm.
“I said I wouldn’t take part in all that,” he reminds you. “And I meant it."
“You could have me now. Then you wouldn’t even have to go to the party. It wouldn’t have to happen in front of others.”
“I couldn’t, Ma’am. I’m sorry.”
“You mean you don’t want me?”
He swallows. Some deep dark part of him is screaming that he’s being a fool. This girl, he thinks, beautiful and pure. She’s offering herself yet you’re refusing her.
“You’re beautiful. Any man would be very lucky...” He makes a face, unsure how to finish. Any man would be lucky to fuck you, he thinks, feeling heat rising to his cheeks.
“It’s going to happen anyway, Captain,” you answer, your gaze running over him. A look of determination moves across your face. Then you’re moving to sit yourself on his lap, arms around his neck. “If you want me, you can have me.”
Steve almost whimpers with the way his cock is starting to ache. When you shift against him, he finds himself grasping your hips, encouraging you to grind down on his hardening cock.
He closes his eyes. He’ll allow himself just one more second before he stops you. The taste of the words he should say is sour on Steve’s tongue. I can’t. I shouldn’t. Not when you don’t have a real choice.
But your lips are sweet when you touch them to his; your touch gentle, your kiss almost chaste. When Steve looks at you again, your expression is so alluringly innocent, surprised at yourself for having done that. He wonders if you have ever kissed anyone before, his little ingénue.
You moan when you kiss him again, a little more desperate, like you’re getting addicted to the feeling. Steve sighs, bringing a hand up to your cheek. The skin on your face is unbelievably soft under his calloused fingers, and he’s desperate to find out if you’re soft everywhere. 
“I’ll look after you,” he says, giving in finally to what his body has truly wanted since he saw that woman on her knees earlier, since he saw you sitting on his bed. He runs his thumb over your bottom lip. Soft there, too. “I’ll take you gentle, doll. I promise.”
“Thank you,” you whisper, going submissively when he lies you on your back. He looks you over as he rises to his knees, hands greedily stroking your thighs, opening your body up to him.
Steve doesn’t waste time lifting the linen of your dress up to your waist, a pleased hum escaping when he finds you’re wearing nothing under the skirt. Your cunt is bare, already swollen with want. He knows that he wants you soaked. Wants you relaxed and slick before he puts his cock anywhere near you.
He throbs at the thought, tilting your knees up to your chest as he leans down to your sex. Steve breathes in the warmth between your legs, kisses the junction of your thigh softly. He hears you sigh, feels your tense body relaxing into the bed. Your comfort, your trust in him, your submission. It sends tingles down his spine.
Steve will keep you safe. He’ll keep you pleasured. And you know it.
“I need you to hold your legs open for me.” Steve watches you wrap your hands around the back of your knees for him without complaint, without hesitation. “That’s good,” he encourages, bringing his thumb to your clit and rubbing in circles. He kisses your thigh again as you gasp, watches your pussy flutter around nothing. “You ever had anybody touch you here?”
You tuck your chin against your chest and shake your head. “Never.”
“You ever touched your little bud yourself?” You remain quiet, but your head is still. You make eye contact, eyebrows pulling together as he pushes you towards release with the rough pad of his thumb, still moving in circles. Steve groans at the guilty look on your face. His cock is starting to hurt with how much he wants you. “It’s better like this, isn’t it? Better with somebody else?”
“Better with you,” you correct breathlessly. “With you.”
“Show me, then.” Steve teases his fingers over your entrance, gathering slick and bringing it back up to your bud. You mewl, jolting with pleasure when he starts circling your clit again. “Want you to come for me like this, just like this. It’ll get that little cunt ready for me, yeah? We’ll get you so fuckin’ wet. All relaxed, then I can slide right in, alright?”
You nod rapidly, letting your hips roll against his hand while he rubs at you. No breaks, no slowing down. He can feel your clit quiver against his thumb. Steve watches as your body twitches and writhes, gasping. “Captain!”
“That’s right, sweetheart,” he says, bringing his thumb to his tongue for a quick taste of you, but it’s not enough.
While you’re still jolting with aftershocks, he leans down between your legs, taking a final breath of your arousal before pressing his lips where his thumb just was, kissing your little clit and earning a shocked cry. Steve groans at the taste; sweet, salt, and woman, letting his tongue lick wide over your sensitive button while his fingers stroke over your entrance. He wants to make you cum again, so fucking bad. “C’mon,” he says, tongue tasting you from your little hole to your clit. He gives your bundle of nerves a series of kisses and licks, feeling the jolt of your thighs around his head, though you settle them back open for him like he told you. “You wanna be good for me, don’t ya, honey?”
You hum in answer, long and loud as he pushes you over the edge with his mouth, sinking his finger into you so he can feel your tightness clasp and seize around him. You’re tight, your lack of experience evident in how you grasp him, but he can feel the wetness he’s pulled from you, how relaxed you are to let him in so simply like this.
He looks up at you from between your legs. Steve watches your chest as you breathe deeply, settling into letting him play inside you, whines giving way to moans. “You want to come for me again?”
“Yes,”
“You’re gonna let me in then, aren’t you?” He asks, rubbing the pads of two fingers around your entrance before he presses both inside. “Gonna take my cock?”
“Yes! Please!”
“Just one more like this, okay? Then we’ll look after both of us.”
He watches your face as you nod again, so acquissant, so willing to do whatever he tells you. He could get used to this; his sweet girl, trusting him so completely, knowing to let him guide you because he’ll always know what’s best for you. Better than you anyway, helpless as you are. Coming in here, begging him to take your virginity. And God, he wants it. Doesn’t think he’s ever wanted anything so bad as to fuck you, to be the first man to take you. He scissors his fingers inside of you at the thought, wanting to get you ready but already knowing he’ll have to hold himself back when he’s inside.
“Captain!” You cry, digging your fingers into your thighs, hips moving for him, against him. He feels the satisfying gush of wetness against his hand and grins.
“Look at that,” he says, rubbing his fingers together to feel your slick, watch the strings of it. When he looks at you again, he half expects you to look ashamed, scandalised, confused. Instead you’re looking at his hands, his arms, his chest, breathing rapidly. When you reach his eyes, your lips open slightly. Your expression mirrors that woman on her knees at Thor’s party. 
Steve growls, grabs your hand and brings it to the top of your thighs, makes you rub your mound roughly, both of you listening to the slick sound of your wetness. “That’s you ready, isn’t it? Fuckin’ soaked for me now.” You nod, watching as he reaches to undo his belt. “Take that dress off. I want to see you when I give you my cock.”
When he finally gets a hand on himself, he almost whines at the relief. He gives his cock long, slick strokes and watches you pull your dress over your head. His eyes languish over the peaks of your chest, the feminine softness of your stomach and thighs. Steve rubs his thumb over the head of his cock, feels the sticky warmth of his cum against the pad of his finger and has a fleeting notion to make you taste it.
When he brings his gaze back to your face, he finds you staring at his cock, eyes moving with the slow pumps of his hand. “Think you can take it all? Take my whole cock in that nice little cunt of yours?”
You shake your head in earnest. Steve feels his body react to the edge of fear in your eyes now, his balls tightening in warning, forcing him to pull his hand away from himself. He has to calm down, has to settle before he gets inside you or he’ll lose his mind the second he does.
Steve sighs through his nose as he touches your thighs, opening your legs up for him again with your knees bent and feet flat on the bed. He kisses your knee gently. “You comfortable, sweetheart?”
You nod, your fingers digging into the sheets.
“I’m going to fuck you now,” he tells you, settling himself between your legs and grasping his cock to gently prod at your entrance. “We’re gonna go gentle, alright? Gonna make it good for you. Haven’t I made it good for you so far?”
He feels your entrance give way to the tip of him as you breathe out. “Yes, Captain.”
Steve watches as he presses inside of you, his jaw clenching as his head is enveloped by overwhelming warmth. You’re wet enough that he thinks if he just gave one good thrust, he’d slide right in.
His cock reaches the end of you and you cry out sharply. Your hands come up to his torso, almost trying to push him away, but his cock feels so good nestled inside you good and deep. Steve can’t help himself but grasp you around the wrists and diverts your arms down over your head, holding them there with one hand. He leans over, face to face with you, watching tears pool in your eyes.
“It hurts.”
It hurts because he’s the first man inside you, the first to feel you like this. Steve moans at the desperate clench of your cunt around him. It’s torture not to move now that his cock is surrounded by tight, soft, warmth. He presses his face between your breasts, breathes in the clean scent of you; washed sheets and woman.
He squeezes your hands with his when he pulls his hips back, loosens his grip when he pushes through the resistance of your tight cunt once again. He can hear as well as feel the wetness trying to welcome him inside.
“You hear your cunt around my cock? I know it hurts, but your body wants me,” he tells you, pressing kisses up your neck as his hips start to move more steadily. “You need me.”
He thinks you answer, your response half gasp, but he’s too far gone to comprehend anyway. Steve groans into your neck as he fucks you, long and deep, his only favour to you keeping his strokes slow for now. He can feel your cunt squeezing around him, but he doesn’t care to know if it feels good for you yet. Doesn’t want to think about it when he knows he deserves to keep going even if you are in pain.
When he finally feels your legs moving to wrap around his waist, he risks looking at your sweet face again. He growls at the sight of you, your head thrown back in delight.
“Knew you’d love it,” he says, leaning up to press more kisses to your mouth. “Tell me how it feels.”
“So good. I didn’t know it could feel like this,” you whisper. “Thank you, Captain.”
Steve feels his balls pull tight at your words, his hips moving suddenly with more aggression. The push and pull, the desperate need to move in you suddenly too much for him to care about keeping himself gentle. 
“Again,” he says, teeth together, his lips pressed at the top of your cheek next to your ear. “Say it again.”
“Thank you, Captain.”
“Again,” he groans, his hand digs into your wrists enough that he just knows he’ll leave bruises in his wake. He hopes you’ll feel them throb tomorrow and think about him, crave him again. Steve brings his other hand down between your legs, playing with your clit roughly as you keen.
“Thank you! Thank you, Captain.”
His head feels light when you come, mewling while you clamp down on his cock, your cunt begging him to fill you right. Steve wants you addicted. He wants you to know that no matter who comes after, he’ll always be the one that took you best. 
You’re whimpering when the knot in his stomach snaps and he finally cums inside you, overstimulated and weak, but holding his hips tight with your legs anyway, encouraging him to keep fucking into you until he’s sated. The relief is overwhelming. Steve falls against you, burying his face in your chest again. He lets go of your wrists to wrap his arms around your waist, and your hands go to his hair. You brush through it with your fingers, petting his sweaty forehead lovingly.
Your legs are shaking around him when Steve finally pulls his softened cock free, unable to stop himself from watching your swollen centre dripping with your slick and his cum. He pulls his shirt off his overheated body, fights his trousers from his warm legs. Steve’s exhausted, but when he glances over at you again, lying ruined at his side, his tender cock jolts with interest. He curses the serum for his recovery time, knowing there’s no way he’ll be able to take you again today.
He lets himself fall beside you, sighing. Steve watches your breath even out, the rise and fall of your breasts hypnotising until you turn to look at him, capturing his eyes with your gaze. Suddenly, he’s feeling a touch ashamed. He’d lost control near the end there. His thoughts were too shameful to ever share, but you must have felt the aggression in his movements. The way he’d held you down.
“I didn’t hurt you at all?”
“No,” you breathe. “No, it was wonderful. Thank you, Captain.”
Your breathy voice sends a tingle down his spine, the reminder of what pushed him over the edge. Before he can help it his cock is swollen and pink against his stomach. Steve hums awkwardly, reaching for a pillow to cover himself when you notice. Your hands press against his chest as you sit up.
“You need further relief,” you say, climbing into his lap.
“No- I mean,” he stumbles, his cock throbbing at the thought of having your cunt around him again. “Not if you’re sore. You need to heal, right? I think-”
You breathe a low shhh into his ear, grasping his cock and bringing the red tip to your entrance. “Your seed will soothe me best.”
He watches you on top of him as you ride him, looking for pain in your expression. He finds only satisfaction, and lets himself enjoy the woman sitting on his cock for his pleasure. You don’t come again, physically couldn’t after tipping over the edge so many times already. When he fills you up one more time, you moan low and long, squirming over him like the feeling of his warm seed in your cunt has genuinely soothed the ache he’d left behind.
Afterwards, you settle back into the bed like lovers, a leg thrown over his abdomen, your head resting against his shoulder while he smooths his hand up and down the soft skin of your back. You look demure once more, shy in spite of what just happened. Your gaze shifts from your fingers on his chest to his face, hurrying away again when you find him already staring at you. Steve pauses, the euphoria of having you giving way to the dread of what you will have to go through soon.
Other men.
“I’ll speak to Thor,” he declares assuredly. “I'll tell him to keep you away from the others. That I want you to be mine only.” 
There is something strange in your gaze, then. Pity? Maybe you think it’s impossible, that nothing can save you from your fate. Steve makes to continue, to convince you, but you give a soft shhh. “Don’t speak of it, please? I want to enjoy being with you now.”
“Of course you can,” he rushes, feeling foolish now for shattering the calm that had surrounded you. “Does it...do you feel alright?”
“I feel wonderful, Captain.” you whisper, smiling at him tenderly.
“Steve,” he corrects, finally, feeling he’s enjoyed hearing you call him Captain more than he deserves already. “My name’s Steve Rogers.” You only hum in answer, settling back into his shoulder as if to rest. He realises he wants that, too. He wants to sleep here, holding you in his arms. 
He will speak to Thor tomorrow. He’ll keep his girl protected. “Hey,” he whispers, hoping you aren’t lost to him yet. “What’s your name?”
But you’re silent, already sleeping.
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The next morning when you wake up, Steve is pressed tight against your back, his body overwhelmingly warm. The soft sheets, the roughness of his chest hair on your back, it’s heavenly. You think that you would be happy to settle in this very spot, never move for the rest of your life.
But you can’t. The sun is rising outside, calling you to start your day, and you must leave before the Captain wakes up. Gently, carefully, you unwrap his arm from your stomach, shifting out of the bed quietly. You wince as you stand, an unfamiliar throb between your legs which reminds you how fully this man took you. It hurts, but it brings a pleasant feeling from your core upwards. How wonderful to have been taken so thoroughly.
You stare at Steve as you dress yourself. The pleasant path his nose takes from his face, his full bottom lip, those eyelashes fanned out against the top of his cheeks. His soft blonde hair is messy from a deep, satisfying sleep, but maybe also from your time together. Your cheeks heat up.
You’re desperate to kiss him. But you don’t deserve it, not after lying to him the way that you did.  
You’re lucky he hasn’t woken already. You tip toe away from him and out the door of his room. As you walk to your destination, you avoid meeting the gaze of passers by, wondering how many in the palace will already know what transpired between you and Thor’s noble friend from Earth. There’s no shame in what you did with him, it’s as natural as breathing. But you are ashamed to think of how it happened.
When you reach the Prince’s private rooms, you’re led in by a guard who was already expecting you, and you find your Prince enjoying the mouth of another servant. You avert your eyes as he finishes.
He calls you over as the girl stands, clapping his hands in excitement. “How was your time with my friend?”
You nod, the memory sweet despite your deception of Steve. “Pleasing, Your Highness,” 
He roars a pleased laugh, slamming his hands together in a pleased clap that practically shakes the room. “I knew he’d want to feel like he was saving you from my terrible cruelty,” he chuckles. “I’m sure he liked knowing you were untouched too.” 
You don’t reply, hoping he won’t question you any further. You’re not proud of lying to Steve, of telling him that you’d be forced into attending Thor’s celebrations, that he and his comrades would treat you terribly. The reality was that it had always been your choice whether to join in; who you wanted to be with, whether you wanted to be with anyone at all. Even the choice to deceive Steve had been yours to make in the end. 
You’d idolised him from the way Thor had described him when he returned from Earth. Kind, brave, and honourable. And then to see him, as handsome as he is. 
The truth was you wanted him. You wanted him to take you first, and you would have done whatever Thor told you to do if it meant you could have him touch you.
Thor’s voice is calm when he says, “I assume he wasn’t rough with you.”
You think about Steve’s hands holding you down, and you feel the painful throb in your wrists. You’d cried out under him, but his thrusts were unwavering. It only sends heat through your core. 
“Not at all, Your Highness.”
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missmonsters2 · 4 years
Text
Between the Lines || X
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PAIRING: Steve Rogers & Fem!Reader (Platonic) / Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader / Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader / Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader x Wanda Maximoff
Summary: Vampire AU. Life has changed drastically since the 1600s. Things are always on the move, and you’ve been very careful to not get on SHIELDs radar. Living on the down-low owning a café, you’re content to live out a quiet existence. That is until the Avengers enter your life.
[Set after the New York Invasion, in CAWS, and goes up to AoU. Canon divergent after.]
Warnings: This series will contain smut(**), poly-relationship, and dark themes.
Note: Oof I came back and DELIVERED 👏👏 it’s really long I’m sorry. I legit said we’re ending this arc today LOL
PART I || PART II || PART III || PART IV || PART V || PART VI || PART VII || PART VIII || PART IX
PART X of XX
Count: 11,007
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There's something about the way the golden sky hits the horizon of this quiet countryside field.
It's quiet.
At least in comparison to the city.
You like the tall grass that surrounds the stand-alone home. The air is cleaner, crisper. There's a serene peace that settles in the area, and it makes you nostalgic for things you haven't had.
You can hear children running around inside, and the sink running in the kitchen along with food sizzling. Looking over at Natasha, there's a softness that has fallen over her face, a look you're somewhat familiar with, but in a different context.
This might be home for her, too, you realize.
"A safe house?" Tony tilts his head as everyone stares at the farmhouse.
"Let's hope," Clint mutters as everyone enters into the house. "Honey, I'm home!"
You tilt your head, curious when the woman you assume to be Clint's wife walks into the kitchen. You knew she was carrying based on the conversation you overhead, but you were still surprised to find her heavily pregnant.
She was due soon.
"Hi, company," Clint says in a rush as he gives her a kiss on the cheek. "Sorry, I didn't call ahead."
"Hey," the woman replies as she kisses Clint. You hear Tony make a comment to Thor about the strangeness of this, but you were focused on her stomach.
You tilted your head as you could hear its heartbeat.
"Gentlemen and gentle...women," Clint stares at you and Natasha. "This is Laura. My wife."
"I know all your names," Laura smiles while everyone looks at her rather awkwardly because no one but Natasha, you and, David knew about her.
David seemed the most curious, but he has always loved kids and got along with them easily.
"You're due soon," he tells Laura with a smile as he sneaks around you to stand closer to inspect Laura respectfully.
"You can tell?" Laura looks down at her stomach as David nods.
"Yes," he says. "A couple months at the most."
"How can you tell?" Laura asks as you hear tiny rumbling footsteps running towards this room.
"We can smell it," David informs her.
"Incoming," Clint says, kneeling down as his son and daughter excitedly burst into the room.
"Dad!" His daughter jumps in Clint's arm. Clint picks her up as he stands and kisses his son's head.
"Tinier agents," Tony blinks at the scene while Steve looks completely flabbergasted.
"This is Lila and Cooper," Clint smiles softly.
"Did you bring Auntie Nat?" The little girl says, and Natasha turns as she smiles.
"Why don't you hug her and find out?" Natasha starts to walk while Lila runs into her arms.
Natasha picks her up with ease, holding her close as she kisses Lila on the cheek. She comes back to you and tense ever so slightly before you relax.
Of course, you spent a lot of time with Allison as you took care of her, but sometimes, being around young kids would cause just a quick flashback of the ones you couldn't save.
Natasha smiles at you, and you return it lightly.
"This is Lila," Natasha introduces you to her and then telling Lila your name.
"Is she your friend?" Lila asks as she stares at you, and Natasha laughs.
"Yes, she's...my special friend," Natasha looks at you with a smirk to which you roll your eyes gently in response.
"I like your braids," you tell Lila softly, who smiles shyly at you in thanks.
"Sorry to drop by in like this," Steve says to Laura.
"Yeah, we would've, but we were too busy not knowing you existed," Tony chirped in.
Clint smiles as he stands next to his wife and has his hand on Cooper's shoulder.
"Yeah, Fury helped me set this up and kept it off SHIELD's files. I'd like to keep it that way, I figured this is a good place to lay low."
Laura laughed suddenly, and everyone turned to see David giving family photos to her.
"Okay, as low as we can," Clint corrects.
Natasha sets down Lila as she drags you closer to Laura.
"Ah, honey, I missed you," Laura pulls Natasha into a hug before giving you a kind smile.
Your nose twitches as you get closer, and you can smell Laura's pregnancy in more detail.
"And how's little Natasha?" Natasha coos as she bends down to touch Laura's stomach gently.
"You mean Nathaniel?" David snickers and you elbow him in the rib.
"What?" Natasha says as she stands up, looking at David before she turns back to Laura.
"Sorry," Laura gives her an apologetic look that confirms what David said.
Natasha leans back down to Laura's stomach, "Traitor."
"Thor," Steve calls out.
You turn your attention as Thor leaves the house with Steve following him.
You hear Thor say how he saw something in his dream and how he won't find his answers here before flying off.
Everyone seems to have reached their limit and wants to get some rest. You, Natasha, and David decided to stay in one room since the two of you don't sleep. David said he'd be out working on a lot of other things anyways.
"Mind if I shower first?" He asks you and Natasha.
"Go for it," Natasha nods.
"If you use all the hot water, I'll kill you," you tell him, and David just pretends to look offended that you would even insinuate he would before walking off.
You could hear Clint and Laura talking in the next room where he's updating her on the mission and what he'll do once this mission is done. You try to drown it out as you turn and focus on Natasha before you.
"How are you feeling?" You ask softly as you lift your hand to her face.
Natasha presses more firmly into your hold. A part of her wishes she could feel the warmth of your actual hand, but she doesn't want to push you, and you were clearly nowhere ready to touch her with your bare hands.
It didn't stop her from fantasizing about it, though.
"Better," Natasha rasps, "I've stopped hearing the lingering voices."
You nodded, using your thumb to stroke her cheek.
"How was it?" Natasha asks, breaking the silence, and you know what she's referring to.
Slowing dropping your hand, you went to sit at the seat beside the window.
"It was..." you sighed, "I don't know. Hard."
Natasha takes a seat next to you, combing her fingers through your hair, and your eyes fluttered at the serene feeling.
"Talk to me," Natasha softly says. She knows you've probably been refraining from trying to talk about it with her after that night. You must think she may not like it.
But Natasha doesn't care about such things like that. Tatyana was a big part of your life, and even though you haven't said anything about it yet, Natasha knows Wanda will be too.
In what capacity will depend on what you'll allow, what you think Natasha will allow.
"I suppose...I didn't expect her to look so much like Tatyana," you smile weakly. "Looking at her is like nearly looking at a spitting image. Pietro has similar features, being twins, but it's easier to ignore that he's a descendant."
Natasha nods, understanding as she continues to comb through your hair.
"I'm still working on confirming something," you tell her honestly.
"And if what you suspect is true?" Natasha asks.
You purse your lips.
"Then, we have a new set of problems."
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷
The day continues on, and everyone, for the most part, has freshened up. You leave Natasha to her own devices with showering even though earlier she had given you a look that suggested that they could save water if they showered together.
You had felt a hot liquid pool form in your lower stomach as you licked your lips.
But now was neither nor the time to engage in such activities, though you did give her a languid kiss before excusing yourself.
You could hear Tony and Steve talking--passive-aggressively arguing outside. You were about to go out to break it up when your eyes honed in on something.
"Just great," you huffed under your breath as you headed out to the field where there was a tractor.
"Thank you, Laura," a deep voice spoke as he caught your eye as you came up to them.
Laura greeted you, and you nodded in response as she slipped out to do her task.
"Maria tell you to come out here?" You asked, looking at Nick Fury.
"She thought it would be best for me to assess the situation," he shrugs. "I wanted a little word with Stark, anyways."
You shake your head. "Your words will mean nothing to him, you know."
"Then perhaps I should talk with you," Fury redirects. "I hear you're quite involved with this case."
You remain silent, not taking his bait.
"What do you suggest I do?" Fury says, curious about what you'll say.
Before you could answer, you hear Tony approaching, catching the two of you after looking at the tractor.
"Ah, Mrs. Barton, that little minx. What are the two of you doing here? Did Maria call you?" Tony asks as he turns to look at Fury.
"Artificial intelligence, you didn't even hesitate," Fury cocked his brow at Tony.
You tune out the two of them talking as you focus your attention elsewhere. You could hear Steve a little ways away, still ripping woods apart with his bare hands. Inside the house, you could hear the water being turned off, indicating that Natasha was done with her shower, and you decided you would go in soon to shower yourself before helping where you could.
"--you didn't," you catch the end of what Fury said before the man walked off, leaving you alone with the genius billionaire.
He was frustrated--annoyed, you could tell by just looking at his face. The light grimace and pinch between his eyebrow were a clear indication.
Tony catches you staring at him, looking miffed as he peers at you.
"Well, I suppose you have something to say, too, huh?" Tony mutters.
You take a long minute to stare at him, his conversation with Fury not lost on you.
"Not really," you say in the end. "Nothing I haven't already told you, anyways."
"Right, like my ego being too big, and I'm not the be-all, end-all."
You shrug. "No one is the be-all, end-all. If the world had to only rely on one man, we would've gone extinct before cavemen even had the chance to evolve."
"And I'm the man that's going to cause that," Tony persisted.
"No," you shook your head. "You know as well as I do that it was only your fear being shown to you."
"Do I?" Tony scoffed. "All I know is that I saw all my friends dead, and I caused it because I couldn't save them. Who are you to say it's not the future I saw?"
"Because she can't show you the future!" You burst at him, grimacing at your own outburst. You sigh, closing your eyes and pinching the bridge of your nose. "That's not what her power is. In the best-case scenario, she can use telepathy to read your mind to experience your memories and thoughts, and then using that to project hallucinations onto you. In the worst-case scenario, she can use her powers to alter reality to make what she wants to come true. I don't think she's there yet."
"And how do you know all that?" Tony asks, narrowing his eyes at you.
"You know that I came on this mission for my own personal reasons."
"And what? That Maximoff girl is your personal reason?"
"They both are," you tell him. "Her powers aren't entirely unfamiliar to me. Different, yes, I imagine from the scepter, but not unfamiliar."
"I don't see the difference between her powers and my future." Tony blinks at you.
You grumbled, sighing as you try to explain. "It means, dumbass, that Wanda either doesn't realize that she can alter reality or that she doesn't have enough control of her powers to do so yet. I'm betting it's a mix of the two. I felt it when I fought with her. She's chaotic, and her powers are unrefined. Because of that, she can only snoop into your mind and then send you your worst fear in the form of a hallucination. You weren't shown the future, Tony, you were emotionally exploited."
You wanted Tony to understand, not so sure why you were so concerned with it. Tony, like everyone else, was a complex person with a multitude of different faces and layers. On the surface, he was a nonchalant, cocky dickhead (though, you were also sure some of that was truly him on the inside too), but he was also someone who cared.
A lot.
And people who tend to care a lot always overdid everything to protect everything and everyone they care about.
Tony was already hurting.
And Wanda was making it worse.
It was a painful reminder that Tatyana had hurt people too, and you couldn't stop her.
"How do you know that isn't the future for sure? How can you confirm that's not my legacy?" Tony murmurs quietly, looking at the sky as if the low volume would allow him to admit his fear without you hearing.
You stare at him for a long minute, biting your tongue before you draw a long sigh that gets Tony's attention.
Tony watches you, taking off one glove, pressing your lips together as you do so.
You hold out your hand to him.
"If you tell Natasha I touched you before her, I'll break your dick."
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷
Dinner is a pleasant affair. You had gone back into the kitchen swiftly after finishing your talk with Tony. Laura was starting to make dinner, and you let her know not to worry about you and David as the two of you don't eat.
You had taken a step out with David while everyone was bustling around before dinner. It had been a while since you last fed, and you had a feeling things were going to start happening back to back, and you needed to be prepared for it.
The two of you headed into town to the nearest hospital, compelling a nurse to bring you both a blood bag to feed on and forget.
It wasn't a lot, but it would be enough to get through the mission without damage, hopefully. You didn't want to end up taking too much from the hospital and causing a problem, even though the two of you were too far from your own stash.
It would've been better to go to a blood bank, but this town was so small they didn't have one.
You were sitting closely next to Natasha as she ate her dinner, your arm around her, and you fought the urge to hide your face into her neck.
"You should head to NEXUS in Oslo to pick up JARVIS," David tells Tony.
"Is that where he is?" Tony hums. "Smart guy to head to the fastest internet hub on the earth. I'm such a proud dad," Tony pretends to tear up.
"Great, you got one good kid and one fuck up, classic!" You say over Natasha's head while Tony scrunches his nose at you.
"Why did I come?" Fury muttered rather loudly. Seems like all the information he was bringing was already brought up by David.
"For a good time, boss. But you wouldn't happen to have anything else, would you?" Natasha pulled a piece of her bread apart.
"I have you," Fury shrugged. "We ain't got nothing but our wit and our will to save the world. So stand up and take out that platinum bastard."
"Steve doesn't like that kind of talk," Natasha teases.
"You know what, Romanoff?" Steve jokingly threatens while she smiles mischievously at him.
You had been only half-focusing on the conversation at hand, jumping in here and there to throw in remarks. You were thrumming your fingers at your side quietly.
There was something about that first night you had all encountered Ultron.
"So, what does he want?" Fury asked.
"To become better. Better than us. He keeps building bodies," Steve licked his bottom lip.
"Person bodies. We're outmoded, biologically speaking, but he keeps coming back to it," Tony leaned back in his chair.
"He wants the human race to evolve; therefore, he needs to evolve himself," Banner mused.
"I don't think evolving the human race is his goal," David muttered.
"How's he going to do that?" Fury asked.
And then it occurred to you.
"Has anyone talked to Dr. Cho?" You pursed your lips.
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷
There was a lot of noise as everyone was getting ready to leave the Barton household.
Thor was still out on his own, so no one held high hopes he would be coming back for this one.
"Alright, I'll head to you guys as soon as I collect JARVIS from NEXUS," Tony, lets everyone know.
"I'll take David and Banner to the Stark Tower," Fury said. " "Mind if I borrow Miss Hill?"
"All yours," Tony nodded. "What are you gonna do?"
"I don't know, something dramatic, I hope," Fury shrugs.
"Alright, everyone else goes with me," Steve attached his shield onto his back.
You nod as you stood next to Natasha.
"You know, I miss the days when I was the weirdest thing science created," Steve mused.
"What do you mean?" You looked at him with a smirk. "You still are."
"I swear to God--"
"Swearing is not good, Steve," Natasha joined in on the teasing.
"I hate you both," Steve shook his head with a good spirit.
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷
There was something that rubbed you the wrong way when you entered the laboratory.
Sparks from exposed wires filled the air, and you could smell blood and hear the shallow breathing of a woman.
You recognized the scent.
"Dr. Cho is in there," you say quietly for Steve to hear, and the two of you race in to see that she was sitting on the floor, resting against a cabinet as she was clutching her stomach tightly. She had blood dripping from her head and lips, but she was still alive.
"Dr. Cho!" Steve called out as he race to her, bending down to see if she was okay.
"He's uploading himself into the body," Dr. Cho heavily breathes. "You can't just destroy the cradle. You need to get it to Stark."
"I got to find it first," Steve tells her.
"Go," she nods in the direction of outside. He purses her lip at her, but she nods to let Steve know she'll be okay.
He starts to head out but then looks at you.
"I'll catch up," you say offhandedly as you bend down to assess the doctor.
She was bleeding profusely through her stomach, where Ultron shot her. Dr. Cho had done her best to stop the bleeding, but it started to soak through the cloth. You looked around to find her technicians dead, and you frowned.
"Maybe I will get your venom after all," Dr. Cho says with a smirk, bringing your attention back to her.
You cocked your brow at her with a smile. "It's quite the risqué position. I don't know if my girlfriend would like that."
"I'm sure she won't mind you helping a frail, dying girl," Dr. Cho jokes but winces in pain shortly after.
You snort at the word frail but lick your lips nonetheless. "Listen, Doc, I don't wanna catch you doing experiments on yourself after getting my venom, alright?"
She nods, and you lift her hand away along with the cloth. You lower herself down her body, feeling the venom pool in your mouth.
You hear her breath hitch, and you're not sure if it's because she's in pain. You remind yourself you need to be careful. While you could drink the blood that was pouring out from Dr. Cho, you opted not to.
Dr. Cho realized this as you were carefully licking her wound, feeling something amazing happening on her skin under your mouth as she was being healed.
"What a loyal girlfriend you are," Dr. Cho mutters.
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷
"I'm always picking up after you boys," Natasha grunts as she Steve's shield and gives it to you to hold.
You were on your way to Steve when Natasha dropped from the sky on a motorbike, and you found yourself hopping on the back of it as she passed you.
"Seriously, Steve, I've seen people treat their trash better than how often you drop this thing," you joke.
"Little busy, guys," Steve grunts back, "wouldn't say no to some help."
As you get closer to the truck where Ultron and Steve are, you whip his shield to him, and Steve uses it to knock Ultron's arm off of him. Ultron falls, catching sight of you two and uses his power to lift a piece of the ground up to stop Natasha in her tracks.
"Go!" Natasha tells you, and you get up on the motorbike before using your strength to propel yourself onto the truck as you leap.
Ultron sees you and immediately uses his ability to manipulate gravity to launch himself towards you.
But if Pietro was too quick for him, you were just a step behind. You blur to the side, back kicking him with a brute amount of force as Ultron passed you.
The strength of the kick alone had done a lot of damage. Your foot had impaled him halfway as he passed, bolts, and gears falling out of the hole you created.
"Look at us," you look at Steve, "we're a dream team."
"I always wanted to tag team with you," Steve smiles.
"Of course you do," you say as if it was obvious, "I'm your favorite."
"Ugh!" Ultron screams as he flies into Steve's direction this time, but Steve uses the momentum to take them both into the train that was moving next to them.
You followed as you spoke into the intercom, "We're taking the party elsewhere. The truck's all yours with the surprise inside, baby."
"I love when you leave gifts for me, so romantic," Natasha cooed.
"Please stop, or I will vomit," Clint says.
You snort as you follow through the hole Ultron and Steve created when they crashed into the train. You land with grace, noticing there are passengers on the cart.
Steve hits Ultron with enough force to send him flying, and you move as fast as you can over to a young teen to force her lower onto the ground from her seat to avoid being crushed.
"I guess I've got civilian-watching duty," you say almost glumly.
"I'd be happy to trade," Steve huffs as he stands up straight.
You could hear Natasha and Clint talking through your earpiece, and for a second, you wished you had stayed with your girlfriend when you hear that the truck is airborne, but you knew she could handle it.
"No, you seem like you got it," you shake your head with a smile. Luckily with a psychotic robot and turbulence on the train, it was too hard for anyone to grab their phone and record.
Ultron barrels into Steve, knocking him into the corner before Steve uses his foot to kick back.
"Of course," Steve puffs.
Even though you had said that you still helped out when you could, with the narrow pathway the train provided, the two of you had to be careful of making sure civilians didn't get hurt.
Ultron was extremely diligent in keeping you at a distance from him, realizing you were nearly as fast as Pietro and much, much stronger.
But then you heard it.
The light footsteps atop the train at first, then then your eyes easily adjusted to a blur that went past you, knocking into Ultron.
It was Pietro.
Your eyes easily found their way to Wanda as you turned around. She was looking at you, unsure what to think when your eyes met.
Ultron turned back to start towards Pietro, but two metal railings were bent to prevent him from doing so. Ultron turned back to see Wanda, and it was clear on his robotic face that he was hurt, but he also knew he couldn't best Wanda.
"Please, don't do this," Ultron's tone soft and pleading.
"What choice do we have?" Wanda's thick accent hung in the air, and you bit your tongue.
Ultron stilled for a millisecond before he turned around, shooting a blast out from his hand. Everyone dodged, and the explosion shot straight through to the train's front where the conductor was. Taking the momentary distraction, Ultron bolted out of the train and flew away.
With the conductor out, the train started to sway unsteadily, everyone losing their footing, and no one could go after Ultron.
Steve hopped up, heading to the front to check if the conductor was okay, but she was out cold. "We've lost him! He's headed your way."
The train flew off its railing, and everyone hung on the best they could as it kept going even on concrete and dirt.
"Nat!" Clint shouted through the intercom. "Cap, do you see Nat?" His voice was panicked and strained.
You looked out the window of the train in the sky. You could see Quinjet, but Natasha was nowhere in sight.
"What the hell do you mean, Clint?!" You shouted.
"I got the cradle, but Ultron grabbed her the last second we got it. Do you have eyes on her?!" Clint asked, his head moving jerkily as he looked around out the windows.
"If you have the package, get it to Stark!" Steve instructed. "Go!"
You heard Clint frustratedly curse an expletive before he flew the Quinjet away in the other direction.
Warning bells were already going off in your head as you were about to take off the train and see if you could locate Natasha, but Steve's voice stopped you.
"I need you to help stop the train, or these people might die," Steve's jaw was tight, and you knew that he didn't want this either. If he could stop the train on his own or trusted the two twins enough, he would want you out there looking for Natasha too.
You looked around, seeing the humans' petrified faces, all sorts of people on this train, no doubt children too.
You clenched your jaw, swallowing painfully, but you resolved to trust that Natasha was okay and could take care of herself. She had been long before you, you reminded yourself.
"Alright," you breathe out in a huff.
"Civilians are in the path," Steve told Pietro, who rushed off.
"I need you to help me stop this train," you turn to Wanda.
She stares at you but nods once firmly.
You make your way to the front of the train, hopping over the conductor and a few feet away from the train, turning as it approaches you.
Steeling yourself by digging your feet into the ground as you get into a stance with your hands out, the train collides into you. Instead of crushing you like it would an average human, your body hardens to take the shock, and the train pushes you back, gravel and dirt flying everywhere.
It slows down slightly, but it won't come to a complete stop before the train would barrel right into a building. You can see Pietro working around you, and Wanda uses her power to stop the wheels from turning.
The train comes to a full stop smoothly with all three of you, and no one was harmed.  People began to exit the train, and Steve came out to check on you while Wanda checked on Pietro.
"I'm fine, just need a second," you breathe, hearing Pietro say something similar to Wanda.
"Did you get the cradle?" Wanda asks, her eyes floating to you. Your eyes caught hers for a moment, but you turned quickly to your intercoms.
You had tried to contact Natasha, but it was obviously a bust as she didn't answer back. Your next contact was with David to tell him to start searching.
"Stark will handle it," Steve tells Wanda.
"No, he won't," Wanda looked distraught.
"You don't know what you're talking about, you don't know him," Steve defended Tony while Wanda looked more upset as the seconds passed.
"He will do anything to make it right," Wanda says, knowing what she saw in his head. "Ultron can't tell the difference between saving the world and killing it...where do you think he gets that from?"
Steve pursed his lips because as much as he didn't want to admit it, the girl had a point, and Steve was still miffed about how Tony had kept all this artificial intelligence stuff a secret.
"Stark, anyone, come in?" Steve said into his comms, but it was silent.
You turn around, jaw clenched as you were upset about Natasha taken.
"It'll be fine," you tell the three of them, the confidence in your voice that made everyone quiet. "We need to head back."
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷
You were pissed.
And everyone could tell.
Natasha was taken, and no one knew where Ultron may have taken her. You understood at the time that Steve needed you there to help him, but it didn't help that Natasha was gone.
You were mostly pissed at yourself.
"Well, she's not dead," Tony says as if in an attempt to make you feel better. "If she were, Ultron would be rubbing it in our faces."
You didn't say anything in response, jaw still clenched tightly.
Wanda watched from the other side of the room, looking at you peculiarly with her head slightly tilted and arms crossed together just under her chest. She had gathered that you and Natasha were together, and from the information she got from reading other people's minds, it seemed that it was still relatively a new development.
There was something in Wanda's chest that flared annoyingly at the sight of you so...so worried over the redhead. She didn't quite understand it herself or what was the underlying cause of it. But you looked different with that expression on your face.
"You think Natasha might've left something for you outside the internet? Any old-school spy stuff?" Tony asked as he turned to Clint.
"I can cast some nets to see if I catch anything," Clint pressed his lips together, also eager to find his friend.
Your eyes were glowing red angrily as you tried to control your emotions. David came up to you, putting his hand on your shoulder to try to ground you.
"I'll find her," David promises you.
You were gripping a countertop as you were slightly hunched over it.
You needed air.
Suddenly, the edge of the countertop snapped under your grip, crumbling into smaller pieces, and you let it go as you stood straight.
"Find her within the hour," you tell David, walking briskly out of the room.
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷
When you came back, everything was in chaos.
Everyone was arguing about the body in the cradle and what to do with it. You could see from the corner of your eye that Bruce was angry with Wanda and picking a fight with her.
It was escalating so fast. All of a sudden, Pietro took off as he started destroying lab equipment.
"No, go on," Pietro stood next to Bruce, but the next second afterward, the glass floor shattered underneath him, and he fell through where Clint was.
"Pietro!" Wanda went to help her brother, but then Bruce grabbed her from behind.
Tony and Steve were fighting each other, and you blinked before clenching your jaw.
You blurred over, and just before Steve and Tony were about to collide again, you intercepted, grabbing both their wrists and twisting.
"Ah!" They both yelled as they staggered, almost kneeling on the ground.
The room stilled as everyone look at you.
"We do not fight each other," you snarled at them, looking at Steve and Tony pointedly. "Keep this up, and I'll snap both your wrists."
You grip just slightly tighter in warning before letting them both go, and they stumble a little as they stand up straighter.
"Jesus Christ, I could feel the armor just about to give," Tony says, holding his hand up to inspect his suit while Steve rubs his wrist gingerly.
You then blur over to where Bruce and Wanda to separate them, shoving Bruce a little harder when he refused to let go of Wanda.
Wanda stumbles into your arms when Bruce is forced to let her go. You steady her with your hand on her back. Your scent fills Wanda's nose, and she's almost reeling at how it invades her.
"I get that you're beyond pissed, and what she did was not okay," you tell Bruce, eyes flickering to meet Wanda's for a second before looking back at him. "But clearly the situation has changed, and for now, she's with us. Steve brought them here. This isn't the time. Focus on the mission at hand, figure it out with her after."
"You want me to forgive what she did?" Bruce said incredulously.
"No," you shake your head, "I want you to be an Avenger and put it aside for now because your teammate has been captured, and there's still a maniac robot out there hellbent on making humans extinct."
Your words hit Bruce and seem to sober him from his anger, and he relaxes his clenched jaw as he sighs and nods. You pat him on the shoulder twice before you walk away, leading Wanda with you.
Best to not tempt it again if they're too close together.
Wanda looks at you as you walk with her. The words, 'are you upset with me?' want to leave her mouth, but she forces them in. Of course, you'd be upset with her. She had done so many things to the Avengers, including harming your girlfriend with hallucinations.
Wanda looks away and grits her teeth because she shouldn't care if you're upset with her or not.
But then she feels a light pat on her back.
Wanda looks at you. You aren't looking back at her, there's no indication that you had done that as you keep your head straight ahead.
Still.
Wanda had understood the gesture regardless, hearing your voice in her head.
'It's not okay, but I understand. You will get a chance to make it up to Bruce, and he will forgive you. Give it time.'
Before Wanda could say anything, Tony and Steve were at it again, but this time using their words.
"Tony," Steve's face daunt and tight in disapproval, "shut it down!" Steve demanded.
"And I'm telling you, this is will work!" Tony shot back as he caught you coming up to them.
"Tell them!" Tony looks at you, drawing Steve's attention to you as well. "Tell them what you--"
You shoot Tony a warning look, getting him to shut up.
Sighing, you looked at Steve. "Trust me when I say that it will be okay."
"You want him to bring another android to life?" Steve said in disbelief. "We haven't even defeated the first one yet!"
Before you could argue some more, Thor flew in, bringing his lightning hammer on the cradle, bringing the body to life.
"Wait!" Bruce yelled, but it was too late.
For a moment, it was silent, but suddenly, the body smashed out of its cradle.
Glass flew everywhere in its surrounding area. You immediately grabbed Wanda, pulling her to shield her from the flying glass as you used your hand to protect her head.
You felt a piece of glass slice through your cheek on the surface, momentarily stinging before it mended itself.
When everyone stood straighter as the glass settled, there was a giant red android standing in his naked glory, and a giant yellow stone plastered into his forehead.
You had known this was coming when you touched Tony's hand. You had seen quite far ahead;  everything from this, to the fight with Ultron in Tony's perspective, and even a little after that.
When the government and the United Nations wanted to be involved in the Avengers' affairs.
That would be a tricky one to navigate, and you wanted more time to think about it.
When you had relayed what you had seen back to him on the farm, you reassured him that he doesn't kill anyone in the next while, but you didn't exactly tell him what he will do in the future in detail as it could cause counterproductive results and change the future again.
All you could tell Tony was that he was on the right path, he was going to create something to help win the battle, and a heat seal would come in handy.
But back to the matter at hand, you knew this was coming, and yet, actually seeing the giant red walking toaster rubbed you the wrong way, and you weren't quite sure why.
He was floating and quickly flew towards Thor, who easily deterred the android away.
Thor raised his hands as Steve and Clint were ready to fight. Pietro came back, looking at you with a quirk of his brow when he saw you still holding Wanda.
You let go awkwardly because you were distracted, forgetting that you were still protecting her.
Why Pietro was staring at you like that, you didn't know. It's not like Wanda stepped out of your arms, either.
"I'm sorry," the android came back, sounding very similar to JARVIS. "That was odd...thank you," he looked at Thor.
"Thor, you helped create this?" Steve said as he eyed the being before him.
"I had a vision. A whirlpool that sucks in all hope of life and at its center is that," Thor says, pointing to the stone in the android's head.
"What? The gem?" Bruce clarified.
"It's the Mind Stone. It's one of the six Infinity Stones, the greatest power in the universe, unparalleled in its destructive capabilities," Thor explained.
"Then why would you bring it to life..." Steve pursed his lips, even more suspicious of the new being.
"Because Stark is right," Thor says, almost looking pained to admit.
"That's just gonna unnecessarily inflate his ego," you mutter while Tony was accessing what he helped bring to life.
"We can't defeat Ultron," Thor says, but then catches David entering the room. "Okay, well, maybe he can, but he seems like he has a lot to do."
"Help is good," the android tilted his head.
"Why does your 'vision' sound a lot like JARVIS," Steve's brows furrowed.
"We...configured JARVIS' matrix to create something new," Tony explained.
"I think I've had enough of the new," Steve pursed his lips, never taking his eyes off the android.
The android looked over to Steve. "You think I'm a child of Ultron?"
"You're not?" Steve countered back.
The android shook his head. "I'm not Ultron. I'm not Jarvis...I am...I am." Since he had yet to name himself, and due to Thor's vision, everyone decided that's what his name would be.
Wanda looked at Vision suspiciously. Her eyes narrowing at him. "I looked in your head and saw annihilation."
"Look again," he prompted her, staring at her intensely, and you resisted the urge to curl your lip back.
Wanda does what he says, a curious look on her face.
"Yeah, her seal of approval means jack-shit to me," Clint says.
You watched as everyone goes back and forth, with Vision ending with a long, windy, talk about himself and that they need to go. You resist the urge to roll your eyes.
"Sokovia. Natasha's there too," David answered, giving you a look when everyone questions where they were going.
"Then let's go," you lick your lips.
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷
The ride back to Sokovia feels long, even with Tony flying the Quinjet as fast as possible.
You stand in the back, looking out the window as the clouds pass by. You hear someone come up to you, but you don't move.
The smell of cinnamon and orange blossom floats you're way, so you don't have to know who it was.
The two of you stand in silence, appreciating the view outside.
"Sometimes...sometimes I can see a glimpse into your head," Wanda says quietly, so the others don't hear.
Your eyes peer over to her before slowly looking back out.
"It's not polite to snoop," you say equally as quiet.
"I can't exactly control it..." Wanda mumbles.
"Even so, you should at least pretend you don't know," you moisten your lips.
It's quiet for a moment before Wanda speaks up again.
"I...saw someone. Things I can't explain," Wanda says unsurely, and you know what she's talking about.
Even though you know she can't help it, you can't help but also feel a little miffed.
You knew that Wanda had a right to know, and yet, you didn't say anything.
"You were looking for me..." Wanda realizes.
"And Pietro," you add, giving her a look, almost laughing when she scrunches her nose.
"We're...connected," Wanda slowly says, turning to face you more.
You swallow as you turn to face her as well.
Wanda's staring at you intensely as if drawing in every little detail about your face and committing it to memory. There's a tight feeling in both her stomach and chest, and she doesn't understand.
She doesn't understand you.
You nod softly.
"Will you tell me about it?" Wanda asks.
"After everything has settled," you tell her.
Wanda swallows.
"You want me to stay?"
She says it so softly, you're surprised such a tone can come out of her when lately she's been an angry bull.
With the time you have, you take in her features. Her long dark hair behind her ears, round face, with define cheeks and jawline was familiar. Her long lashes framed her eyes, and her dark eyeliner and the lighting inside the craft dimmed the color of her eyes.
Still.
She looked at you with an intensity that made you dizzy.
"Yeah," you rasp. "How else will you make it up to Banner?"
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷
Natasha hears you calling her name as you run-up to her cell. She stands up, meeting you on the other side, her hand touches yours.
"You okay?" You ask her, accessing her thoroughly for any kind of injuries.
"Yeah," she tells you, smiling a little at your protective behavior, and once you're satisfied that she's relatively unharmed, you look back to her face.
"We gotta get going, team's already out there, and we're missing all the action," you say, liking the way Natasha smirks.
"Don't suppose you found a key just lying around on your way in, did you?"
You tilt your head, looking at the built-in lock on the cell door. Placing your hand over it, you yanked with a substantial amount of strength, forcing the metal underneath to give way.
You threw the hunk of metal behind your back and looked at your girlfriend. She smiled at you as she slides the door open, jumping into you to hug you briefly.
"Let's go," she says as she pulls back.
The two of you navigate your way through, but the ground begins to shake as you're almost out of there. The two of you stumble slightly before steadying yourselves.
"What's the situation?" You ask into the comms.
"Ultron's got Vibranium under the city. We're up in the air," Tony advises.
"Shit, we need to get out here," you say, turning to Natasha. "We're not going to make it on foot, so I'm going to carry you on my back."
Natasha nods, and you turn around, lower yourself so she can get on. Once she's secured on with her legs wrapped tightly around your waist, you adjust here once more before you're satisfied.
"Keep your head down and close to me," you tell her, feeling her following your instructions. The speed you'd be going at could accidentally break her neck if you weren't careful.
With that, you race out, quickly reaching the outside. Everything seems to be crumbling at you begin to maneuver onto the rocks, leaping onto another one as they fall. Eventually, you reach the cliffside wall, using your hands along with your feet to climb up.
When you reach safe ground, Natasha gets off.
"Didn't even break a sweat, huh?" She says to you.
"I have great stamina," you joke, but Natasha raises her brow at her, quirking her lip on one side into a seductive smirk.
"I'll be sure to test that out one day."
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷
You feel awful.
Sokovia is falling apart, people are screaming and crying, and it's a war zone out here.
You separated from Natasha, warning her to not get kidnapped again because you don't think you could live with that kind of worry. She merely kisses your cheek before she races off to go help Steve and Thor.
You met up with David, who was huddled up with one of Ultron's robots, and a laptop next to him. The robot was powered down by David, who had his hands on its chest intensely.
"What are you doing?" You ask, looking at his laptop screen to see he was uploading something.
David didn't break his concentration or even open his eyes, but he answered you. "I'm trying to reprogram this bot's mainframe. The Vision is deleting Ultron off the net, so if I can do this, then I can turn this bot over to help us, and then spread it over to all Ultron's other bots."
"That would definitely turn the tide on this," you say, crushing a flying robot towards David.
"I...I got it!" David exclaimed, powering up the robot in hand. It stood up, accessing you, and you stood on guard, but it started to attack its own kind as a threat in the next moment.
"I just need to finish uploading the software to be spread," David picked up his laptop. "I'm going to take cover to finish this, and then find The Vision. I'm good here, you should go."
You nod at him before you take off at high speed. On your way, you bumped into Clint and Wanda. They were being overpowered as they tried to help civilians out of the area.
A group of bots begin to close in. It seems David is still in the process of uploading the software, so the attacks haven't ceased. You notice a bot hellbent on self-destruction as it plummets towards the ground.
Clint is already moving towards Wanda, shouting at her to move. You rush towards the two of them, jumping and pushing them through a building window just as an explosion hits. There are shots still being fired even as the three of you take cover.
Clint's already sitting up, alert as he tries to look at the situation outside without getting shot. Wanda crawls towards the wall, gasping and whimpering.
"How could I let this happen?" She's so distraught.
"Hey, hey, are you alright?" Clint asks, but you put your hand on his shoulder.
Clint looks at you. The situation outside still needs to be handled, and he seems like he doesn't have the time to try to give her a pep talk. You nod at him, and he nods back. Getting up, Clint readies his arrows before he kicks open the door.
"This is all our fault," Wanda cries quietly.
You grab her face, getting her to look up at you. "Look at me," you tell her. "It doesn't matter whose fault it is. It's your fault, my fault, it's everyone's fault. Regardless, this is happening."
She looks at you, breathing harshly as she blinks rapidly.
"I know you're hurting, but this is your homeland, and it's up in the air. Literally. Hopefully, if David manages, we won't be fighting an entire army of robots, but we still got one bad guy to fight," you swallow before hearing something approach as you push and move Wanda out of the way just as a shot fires through the wall.
Wanda looks even more frightened, and she's hanging on the front of your jacket as you readjust to move away from the wall.
"We can't change what we've done, we can only try to fix it going forward. I don't care about anything you did or who you were before this."
"I can't fix this," she bellows to you.
"Yes, you can," you backfire immediately at her. "If you scared and want to let everyone else clean up your mess, I'm fine with letting you do that. You'll be safe here, and Pietro can come to get you. But you can't sit here and tell me that you're okay with letting your fear control you. You can do this, I know you can."
Wanda stares at you, eyes shaking as bites her tongue, letting the silence fall.
"Why do you believe in me so much? Care about me so much?" Wanda asks quietly, feeling something stir in her stomach.
You look back at her, noticing that Wanda seems calmer. Maybe because you feel like you're looking at someone so similar to Tatyana in many ways. That Wanda feels like she's the villain who had caused this.
Perhaps thought she had wanted to be a villain at the start.
But it wretches your gut painfully.
"If anyone could become a hero, it'd be you."
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷
"David, please tell me you're almost finished," you say into the comms as you, Wanda, and Clint fight the rest of the robots in your area.
The three of you need to work your way to Steve and the rest of the gang when Pietro flew in to take Wanda.
"Keep up, old man!" He teasingly says as he darts off.
"I hate him so much," Clint breathes deeply.
"If you want, I can carry you," you shrug.
"I both want to and hate the idea," Clint scrunches his nose but allows you to carry him.
"I'm really close guys, just hang tight!" David tells everyone.
"The next wave is going to hit any minute," Steve says. "What do you have, Stark?"
"Working on a heat seal," he tells everyone.
"We don't have the time," Thor says, "Ultron is trying to get to the core. We need to make a choice."
"That's not a solution," Steve firmly says.
"There's no math here, Steve. Everyone up here versus everyone down there?"
"I'm not leaving this rock with one civilian on it," Steve doesn't budge.
"I'm not saying we should go," Natasha counters back, nodding her head back and forth as she considers something. "There are worse ways to go. Besides, where else am I going to get a view like this?"
"I have at least fifteen other places that have better views than this."
Natasha looks over to see you had shown up with a disapproving look on your face.
"I think we might have to settle," Natasha gives you a self-deprecating smile that shows all too much that this is the only way.
"I don't settle."
With that, another voice comes on the radio.
"Glad you think the view is nice, hopefully, you think this is much better," Fury comes in with a Helicarrier in view. "Nice, right? I pulled her out of the mothballs with a couple old friends. She's dusty, but she'll do."
"Fury, you son of a bitch!" Steve says with a smile.
"Ooh! You kiss your mother with that mouth?" Fury replies in teasing.
Natasha looks over to you, smiling as you come up to her.
"Did you know?" She asks, and you shrug, not wanting to tell her that you touched Tony.
"If Fury decided to show up at the farm with actually nothing else planned, I think we would have to vote him off the island," you offer instead.
"That's comforting," Fury sarcastically said.
"Anytime," you reply.
Within seconds, lifeboats are deployed, and everyone is helping with the evacuation.
"The odds aren't looking too great here," Thor interrupts. "The core is getting bombarded."
"Rhodey, get everyone on the Helicarrier!" Tony says as he flies towards Thor to help.
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷
"This is exactly what I wanted. All of you against all of me. How could you possibly hope to stop me?"
"Like the old man said," Tony looks at Steve. "Together."
The bots begin to rush towards everyone, and you swallow.
"Wait, guys!" You hear David through the comms. "I...got it!"
Just like that, the bots stop dead in their tracks and power down before powering back up again.
This time, they turn their attention towards Ultron.
"Are you kidding me?" Ultron grumbles as the bots rush towards him, firing shots away that Ultron easily deflects.
Because The Vision burned him off the net, Ultron has no way of accessing the software David created to try to change the bots back to his side.
The Hulk rushes towards Ultron, punching him square in the chest and sending him flying miles away.
Everyone turns to look at each other as David blurs into the area with his laptop.
"I feel like we missed a very epic battle scene," Tony says, "like a defining moment in a movie."
"Oh, I'm sorry," David says sarcastically, "if you want, I can totally fix that for you."
"Nope, we're good," Steve says quickly. "We still need to get the stragglers, but if Ultron comes back to the core, we're doomed."
"I'll protect it," Wanda interjects, looking at you as she does. "There's no one better than me."
You nod as Clint looks at Nat.
"Nat, let's go," he nods outside. She looks at you, and you nod at her as it would be faster for you to find civilians on your own.
You look at David. "Alright, nerd, you're going with me. I think you had enough alone time for today."
"You are so ungrateful, oh my god."
"I love you," you smile.
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷
Tony is using the extra bots to help push the rock further into the sky. If they can get it into space, using the heat seal would cause the least amount of damage to Sokovia.
"I can't believe I'm going into space again," Tony mumbled, glad he had made the adjustments to his suit so it would be suitable to go into space better this time.
He had been prepared since the alien invasion.
"Maybe you chose the wrong career path and should've become an astronaut instead," you joke, getting a low chuckle in return.
You had run the perimeter with David, seeing that there were no civilians left.
Natasha volunteered to try to convince The Hulk to either change back or get his ass on the Helicarrier. You would've volunteered, but you don't think The Hulk would be happy to see you, and you can't keep biting the man to force him to change back either.
"I think I can hear a woman screaming," David mumbled. "I'll go check."
He takes off, and you are about to head back when you hear shots fired in the distance. You turn and speed over.
You felt your stomach dropping when you approach the scene. Everything seems to happen in slow motion.
Ultron in his jet, shooting down at Clint, who has a little boy in his arms. You turn your head to see Pietro.
He looks at you, giving you a smirk that feels all too familiar like it's his last one.
Pietro is a step faster than you, he probably always will be. But that doesn't stop you. You force yourself to run. Run faster. Run harder. The sheer amount of force causes a sickening crack in your legs, but you make it just in time.
Pietro only gets shot once through his stomach before you push him out of the way and cover Clint and the child.
The shooting stops as Ultron flies away.
The silence settles, and Clint looks up to see you standing straight before him. You've been shot all over, multiple times in multiple areas.
You suddenly puke up blood as you fall to your knees.
Pietro immediately gets up from the ground rushing over to you, catching you in his arms.
"Why did you do that?!" He yells at you, hands over your body, but he doesn't know which areas to stop the bleeding.
"You idiot," you tell him. "Can you heal from being shot? I don't think so."
Though you say that, the only thing that healed, even though rather slowly, was the crack in your leg.
"You're not healing," Clint says, his tone urgent. He looks at you as blood pours out. "Why aren't you healing?"
"She doesn't have enough blood in her system."
Clint turns over to see David, looking horrified. He kneels down, taking you from Pietro's arms.
"I told you, you fucking idiot, that we should've just taken more blood bags from the hospital," David scolds you.
"This is hardly the time for, 'I told you so,'" You reply weakly.
"Get the kid onto the boat," David looks at Clint and then looks at Pietro. "You need to go collect your sister. There are no more civilians, and we're reaching the stratosphere soon."
"What about--"
"I got this," David says as he bites into your neck. You hiss at the sudden pain. Clint and Pietro have more questions, but they do as David says and take off.
"You better pray to God that we make it back in time," David purses his lips as he pushes your sleeve up to bite in various places.
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷
The damage to Sokovia is still devastating. It's not entirely obliterated, and people will be able to rebuild their country.
The Hulk, unfortunately, had taken off on his own in stealth mode. He didn't want to be found.
It seems The Vision has taken care of completely destroying Ultron, taking this chapter to an end.
It's not the perfect ending, but it could be a lot worse.
There was only one problem left.
You were dying.
Or at least, on your way to either going completely feral for blood to help you heal or going to a deep slumber until you were fed.
Either one was on the table at this point.
"What do we do?" Natasha asks David sharply as they're still in the air being transported back.
They were on the Helicarrier in their own private section away from the people as they didn't know what you were going to do.
"I only temporarily closed her wounds to stop the bleeding," David tells everyone, explaining why he bit you earlier. He was injecting his healing venom. "Venom doesn't quite work the same way on vampires as it does on humans. She still has a lot of internal bleeding that won't stop, and the only thing that can stop it is if she drinks blood."
"We don't have any blood bags on here!" Steve says as he looks at you, full of worry.
"We could...we could cut and drain our own blood," Natasha looks at you before looking back at David. "She can drink the blood as long as she's not biting us, right?"
David purses his lips as if to consider it but then shakes his head. "She's too badly wounded, it won't be enough. Plus, none of you are in the state to lose any more blood, even if you guys all donate. I can heal your wounds, but I can't make your body produce more blood."
"Then what do we do?" Natasha wants to scream. She can't lose you. She just can't.
At that moment, Pietro and Wanda come in. Pietro can hardly stand up himself, so Wanda is supporting him. They had heard part of the conversation as they came in.
Pietro looks at you, face full of anguish because you're only like this because you saved him.
You're tense on the table, occasionally arching your back up in pain and need. David is holding you down by your arm in case you suddenly get a burst of energy and massacre everyone in this room for blood.
Wanda looks at you, jaw clenched.
The feeling of loss is threatening her on her doorstep. You had saved Pietro, God knows if she could survive to lose her only family.
But Wanda was not ready to let you go either.  
It has occurred to Wanda that outside of Pietro, the only person in this world that may understand her, believe in her, protect her, care for her...would be you.
There was something there, something undefined and frightening. Wanda was sure you felt it too with her, though ignoring it for Natasha.
David looked at Wanda. He knew that he shouldn't.
Yet before he could even stop himself, Wanda looks sharply over at him, catching his thoughts.
You would be entirely beyond pissed at him.
It would cause a whole new set of problems for everyone.
He was sure you would rather die.
But David wasn't willing to risk the chance of you going feral, which was almost guaranteed at this point, or your death.
He just wasn't.
"She can drink my blood," Wanda says, drawing everyone's attention. Wanda was the only person who hadn't sustained any significant damage or got shot. She could afford to lose blood.
"What?" Steve looks at David, who has his lips pursed.
"It would work, wouldn't it?" Wanda also looks at you, your eyes glowing a red she's all too familiar in seeing in herself. "It would be even better than drinking from a blood bag to feed directly from me."
Wanda doesn't fully understand what you are, or the concept of vampires, but she catches pieces here and there from everyone around the room.
And there's a feeling of intrigue and possession that flutters knowing that she was the only one you could drink blood from, aside from her brother.
Pietro grips his sister's arms tighter, torn because if you could drink her blood, you could drink his, but he was also in no shape to lose any more blood.
Wanda pats his arms to assure him she'll be fine. Pietro leans against the wall as Wanda comes closer to you.
"It...would, but..." David's eyes shift over to Natasha.
Natasha clenches her jaw.
The words about how feeding can be an incredibly intimate and private act come back to her.
It's not that Natasha is particularly jealous of Wanda in that way. She's more jealous that she can't do anything to help you herself.
Natasha can't muster the words out of her mouth, so she tersely nods.
With that, Wanda stands right next to your lying body on the bed.
"Everyone, stand back," David says, trying to keep you still, but it's like you can smell how close to feeding you are.
The burst of energy does come, but you use to break out of David's grip as you fling him across the room.
"Shit!" David yells, convinced that you're going to kill Wanda to drain her blood. He stands up, reading to try to fight you even though it would be a losing battle.
But he stops.
You merely stand before Wanda, her face in your hands as you tilt her head up to expose her neck.
You press your nose against her neck, taking a long inhale as you purr at the scent.
Wanda can hear alarm bells in her head that tell her you're a predator, and she's your prey, but she doesn't tremble. Instead, she brings her hands up to hold your wrists as if to keep them in place.
You chuckle throatily, attitude nothing like your usual self, "How brave."
Wanda swallows slowly, the action very visible as the muscles in her neck move.
"It was you who taught me that I could be a hero," she says quietly as if it's only for your ears.
The words seem to trigger something in you as you sink your teeth into her neck, a mouthful of blood rushing into you.
It's been too long, you almost forgot what it was like.
It was hot in your mouth, as fresh as it was.
You could feel a warm body being pressed you, hear a heart beating, and smell the arousal.
A deep moan left Wanda's mouth, unable to control it. A hot, liquid fire shot down to her lower stomach, pooling in her gut.
Wanda couldn't describe how it felt, what she was experiencing, but you were doing something to her as you drank from her, holding her close to you.
You suddenly lift her into the air, wrapping her legs around your waist as you blurred over to the drawer cabinet against the wall, pushing Wanda up on it roughly. Your hands held her possessively.
Wanda was pressed to the wall as she sat on the cabinet, her legs still wrapped against you tightly as she fisted her hand into the back of your hair.
Everyone watched in astonishment of the act, David biting on his tongue as he looked at Natasha, who had no expression on her face to indicate what she was feeling.
Blood was rushing into your mouth, and it was delicious, making you delirious, but that didn't stop you from realizing there was a crowd in the room watching you feed, watching Wanda unravel.
You released your mouth from her neck.
"Leave," you demanded lowly and roughly, hardly coherent before you resume sinking your teeth back into Wanda.
Natasha stared at you, you seemed lost in your own world as you fed, and Natasha knows that you are only like this due to how injured you are.
Still.
As everyone leaves the room, Natasha looks at the two of you once more. Wanda's hand is buried in your hair while she's arching into you.
As she exits the room, Natasha catches Wanda's eyes, staring at her intensely with an unknown meaning in them before her eyes flutter close just as the door shuts.
PART XI
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Not the original asker but could we see that party where they submit to him and everyone's just so in awe at these reckless boys being obedient for their manager.
Brian is fully expecting the boys to be late with getting ready as usual, so he takes a seat and grabs a magazine and decides not to rush them.
He already feels slightly nervous, and he’s annoyed with himself for caring so much about a stupid award that means nothing really. He doesn’t need the record label to tell him he’s successful; he’s confident in his own achievements and he knows that no one would have made the Beatles as much as a success as him.
He’s fully expecting to have to wait another half an hour for the boys to be ready to go, so he’s surprised when Ringo walks into the living room.
Brian blinks. “What...what on Earth are you wearing?”
Ringo gives him a soft smile. “You don’t like it?”
The younger man is wearing a tight little pair of short shorts and a shirt that is half-unbuttoned; it reminds Brian of how the boys used to dress in Florida, but he had allowed that because it had been so hot. As he looks closer, Brian realises that Ringo is also wearing a little bit of eye make-up; a touch of mascara and a dash of eyeliner, and it makes his eyes look even bigger and more beautiful. The younger man is also wearing the collar that Brian had gifted each of them, and it’s that finishing touch that makes Brian’s heart flutter.
“No,” Brian says, trying not to let his mouth hang open. “I think you look lovely. It’s just...I told you that you could wear suits tonight. Won’t you feel a little uncomfortable like this?”
Ringo takes a seat next to him and kisses Brian’s jaw, and as he leans in Brian can smell something really nice on him; some kind of expensive perfume or cologne.
“This is your big night,” Ringo says, and he sounds almost proud. “You’re not going to win this award if we show up in suits, are you? Every artist there is going to be wearing something slutty, and we’ll stand out if we don’t act like eye candy for all the old tossers there.”
Brian is touched. He would never make the boys dress like this unless it were absolutely necessary, and certainly not to further his own career. The fact that they want to do this for him is really quite lovely.
Brian cups Ringo’s face with one hand, stroking his cheek with his thumb. “This really isn’t worth it just so that I can win an award.”
Ringo smiles. “It’s worth it to us. No one deserves that award more than you. And if you win, it will just show everyone that you can make a success of a band while being a decent human being at the same time.”
Brian is feeling terribly sentimental as the other boys loudly bound into the living room, and he gives Ringo’s bare thigh a quick squeeze in thanks.
They’re all dressed very similarly; short shorts and half unbuttoned shirts, a touch of subtle make-up, collars fastened around their necks. They’re beautiful.
“You’d better fucking win this thing,” John says, cocking his hip and giving an exaggerated bat of his eyelashes. “We’re not tarting ourselves up like this for nothing.”
“You all look gorgeous,” Brian says, giving each of them a kiss. “But I would never ask you to do this for me.”
“That’s why we want to do it,” George says brightly.
Brian can feel himself getting a bit teary, so he ushers them down to the car before they can see him cry.
The boys seem in good spirits during the journey over, and Brian wonders if it will last when they get to the party. Dressing up is one thing, but if they’re really serious about this, they’re going to have to behave in a way that goes against everything they believe in. This is certainly something Brian would never ask of them unless absolutely necessary.
If the boys are nervous when they arrive, they don’t show it.
They seem quite confident actually, as if they’ve done this a hundred times. All eyes are on them as they enter the venue, but the boys aren’t phased at all. They cling to Brian and smile politely at those who greet them, but Brian’s heart sinks a little as the chairman of the label, Grant Herman, approaches them.
The boys all gracefully fall to their knees before him though, and they do it in such a synchronised manner that Brian suspects they’ve probably been rehearsing this. The boys respectfully lower their gazes, and Brian can see the pleasant surprise on Herman’s face.
“My, my,” Herman chuckles. “Don’t you all look lovely.” He looks at Brian. “I have to admit, Epstein, I didn’t think you’d have it in you. I never thought you’d bring these boys in line, let alone make a success of them. Congratulations.”
Brian forces a smile as the older man shakes his hand. “Thank you.”
“If you don’t mind, I just want a moment to ask one of you boys a few questions. I’m doing the same with all the other nominees and their artists, I hope you understand.”
“Of course.”
Herman glances at the four boys on their knees, and Brian silently prays that maybe he picks Paul, who’s always been more eloquent and is fairly good at not being too mouthy.
“John,” Herman says softly. “Stand a moment, won’t you?”
Shit.
John obediently stands, and there isn’t even any sarcasm in his voice as he replies with yes, sir.
Herman smiles. “What do you think of Mr Epstein as a manager, John?”
John glances at Brian only briefly before answering. “He’s the best, sir. Mr Epstein knows this business like nobody else. He’s hard-working and kind and takes care of us. We wouldn’t be where we are without him. I adore him and so do the others.”
Brian realises in that moment that even if he doesn’t win, he’s got a prize better than anything anyone else could give him.
“And does he discipline you, John?”
“Yes, sir. Mr Epstein is very clear with his expectations and punishes us when we don’t meet them. He also rewards us when we do well. He’s always very fair and respectful.”
“And how often do you share his bed?”
Brian expects John to make a joke or an innuendo at this point, but he just continues to answer calmly.
“About once a week, sir. We usually take it in turns.”
“Good. Very good. Thank you, John. Well I’ll leave you to it-“
“Excuse me, sir,” Ringo interrupts, glancing up from beneath his lashes. “May I add something?”
Herman gazes at Ringo for a few seconds, as if bewitched. “Of course you can, my dear.”
Ringo smiles. “I just wanted to say that I’ve really appreciated Mr Epstein’s guidance and care. I was in another band previously under another manager, and I was treated very poorly by him. Mr Epstein has helped rebuild my confidence again. I never thought I’d have a manager I would trust, but I’d trust Mr Epstein with anything.”
Brian has to resist the urge to grab his handkerchief.
“That’s wonderful to hear,” Herman chuckles. “Now you boys have yourselves a good evening. It’s lovely to see you here.”
He drifts off into the crowd and Brian lets out a little sigh of relief as he helps the boys to their feet.
“You’ve been practising your little speeches, haven’t you?” Brian chuckles, and he gives John a particularly warm kiss.
He feels so happy in that moment that he just wants to shower them all with affection.
The boys are on their absolute best behaviour all evening, and Brian feels so proud of them. They even look like they’re having a good time. Brian would never normally make them sit on the floor at his feet in public, but all the other artists are doing so with their managers so the boys do the same. They’re respectful and polite to anyone who speaks to them; they’re the perfect role models for the other artists there.
Brian knows it’s just an act. Tomorrow they’ll go back to being themselves, and that’s what Brian wants. But he’s so happy that they went to all this effort for him.
And when he wins, he kisses each of them, right there in front of the flash of cameras.
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hwauas · 3 years
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🕊️: "the lost prince" (6)
park seonghwa (박성화) - 2,269 words
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the lady came into the room as soon as she got the permission. she lowered her head a little, and Seonghwa and you bowed respectfully in front of her.
     “you don't have to be this formal. and you can call me Iseul.”
she sat on a chair next to your boyfriend's bed. even her posture was showing how elegant and sophisticated she was.
“i wanted to come, because.. you know, news are spreading quite rapidly..”
     “and so, you wanted to come and see the new city's attraction?”
Seonghwa sighed as he looked down. he felt deeply hurt — yet, he didn't let her speak.
     “Seonghwa, honey, you should let her speak. don't be this rude. i know things are hard but no one would make fun of you.”
     the tension in the atmosphere seemed to have increase so abruptly. Iseul was looking down, feeling almost guilty for coming here when the reasons that brought her here wasn't the ones Seonghwa talked about.
you softly grabbed Seonghwa's hand, to try and soothe him. your thumb was stroking his hand mindlessly.
     the woman seemed to be waiting for something — and you weren't stupid: you knew she was waiting for a permission to keep going.
as you were still calming down Seonghwa, you mentioned her to keep going.
     “to be honest with you Seonghwa.. i lost my child years ago. but i know that, somewhere else in this world, he's living. i just don't know where..”
the lady was looking at Seonghwa with a kind of protection in her eyes. she was talking about a tough time of her life, yet her eyes and whole face was showing off something else than sadness.
“i understand how you may feel. i understand how hard is it to have no family. since the day i lost my child, my husband is my only family. i believe you think this beautiful person by your side is your only family now? but you have a real family, blood related, waiting for you somwhere in this world. just as i'm waiting for my baby to come back home.”
     a tear started to fall down your boyfriend's cheek, and then an another. you hated to see them. they were the physical representation of the pain he was feeling.
“how did you face the truth? there's one moment you have to accept the truth. you can't deny this for ever.”
     “there is not a right way to do it. you know you had the choice when you realise you don't have the choice anymore.”
the woman was looking at Seonghwa. you knew she was sharing the same pain as him deep down.
“if you're indeed the lost prince.. i'm sure the King and the Queen are waiting for you, and are ready to give you all their love.”
     “i don't really wanna think about that.. about being.. the lost prince.. i'm not strong enough to handle this. i just can't be a prince.”
Seonghwa suddenly held on your hand tightly.
“plus, as y/n said to me right before you came.. our worlds would be different, and i can't imagine a life without her/him anymore.”
     “oh, Seonghwa.. if you indeed are the lost prince.. why would you have to break up with her/him? that doesn't make sense. the King and the Queen would be thankful she/he was here for you throughout this tough moment of your life. and rules are less strict than you think! there is no reason they won't accept your soulmate.”
     you frowned. you studied a lot royalty, monarchy and everything which was related to this world. and it was even your speciality.
“but every books i've read, and every people i talked to about this agreed with me: there is a lack of freedom as a prince. King and Queen often rule their child's life.”
     the woman laughed. you wondered if she was in pain or something. her laugh almost sounded hypocrite and fake.
“what's written in books are not always true. things are not set for ever. they evolve through the time.”
     Seonghwa squeezed your hand softly, and rested his head on your shoulders. he whispered ‘we'll see later’ to you. you were looking down to your hands linked together. the woman was looking at you both, with the same protection she showed before.
the whole atmosphere was less tensed than before.
###
later in the day, in a different place.
     the woman was now wearing her crown again. she was stunnier than before. her hair was again tied up in the most gracefully way possible. her dress was quite simple, way different from the large dress from our clichés: white, with trompet sleeves, not that huge and with beautiful details.
she was walking through the corridors, and stopped in front of a door leading to a large living room. there were hundreds and hundreds of books on different shelfs. the room was bright because of the sun rays, and the light colours of the room.
     a man was standing in front of a window. he was wearing a crown too. no need to be smart to know he was the woman's husband. she approached him slowly.
     “each new days without our son is hurtful..”
the man said almost in a whisper. this words weren't enough to describe the pain in his heart the destiny took his son away from him, his only treasure.
     “i talked to him today. he's so beautiful.. he looks like you.”
     “you.. what?”
the man turned over to face his wife. she seemed to be happy, after 16 years of sadness.
     “you don't want to stay updated with the news because you're afraid we finf our son. you're afraid of the day we will be reunited together, because you missed him so much that you don't know how you will react. or you're afraid we may learn we've found our son, but dead. you're afraid of good and bad news. but i'm not. this little human lived inside of me for 9 months. i held his head when i had to breastfeed him. he's the only one for whom i went on my knees to tie his shoes. he's the only one i cried for when he came to the world.”
the woman wiped away few tears. she was trying to hold them back, but it was hurting even more: she needed to cry. not to mention the knot in her throat because of her tears.
“he means the world to him and, unlike you, i'm waiting for this day they would say they found him, or they have a serious trail. and today.. they said they were having a trail.”
     “what do you mean..?”
the man seemed to be too shocked to process. any information seemed to be fully understood.
     “it's been a while i didn't say 'Seonghwa'..”
     the man approached his wife, and took her shoulders. his eyes were teary. he couldn't believe what he's heard from his wife. he waited for this day for so long..
     “when i'm seriously thinking about abdicating.. stars give me my son back to take my place..”
he kissed his wife's forehead. the emotions were taking the leads, and he couldn't hold back his tears anymore.
     “so you were serious, in this letter..”
     “you found it?”
the king sighed. he starred to walk around, aimlessly, and stopped again in front of the window.
“the waiting is so hard for me. it consumed all my energy. and i'm getting old.. i don't want the country to see me getting old, and i'm not living in my time to take decision. i wanted to wait for fleur-de-lis to come back before making this letter public. the country needs him as a king now. and a new queen.”
     “i'm not sure he's ready for that.. and his girlfriend/boyfriend either.”
she sat on a sofa, looking at his husband's shapes.
     “his what?”
     “hey, understand him. understand them. he has no idea he's a prince. and even though she/he believes Seonghwa is the prince, just as the policemen in charge of the case, Seonghwa doesn't want to hear this possibility. he just followed his heart by dating her/him. he wasn't doing anything else because he has no idea of the rules.”
the woman was strongly protecting your relationship with his son. she would let her body and her soul to protect you both in front of the king, because one thing she concluded about the meeting is that you were both in love and none of you was ready to face this.
“they're of course not ready to hear the truth one moment or another. they're afraid their worlds would be different and they would have to break up.”
     “that's true! they have to break up! it's not the rules, and he has to marry a real princess, not a peasant!"
     “first, because she/he comes from an another background doesn't mean she/he is a peasant. you better take this back, Park Junghoon. then, you can't break them apart. you know he still can lives by his someone's sides, even though their worlds are different. and finally, if you go against them, i doubt you would have a heir. do you wanna stay there until you die so i take the leads instead because you don't have a heir — or should i say because you refused to let him live his love story for shitty rules? do you wanna be the king until your last breath? do you want your country to see you getting old, and to see you die? do you want your only son to be mad at you because you imposed him your rules when the only thing he was asking for was to be reunited again with his family by his girlfriend's/boyfriend's sides?”
she was speaking firmly to be sure his husband would understand. but honestly, it wasn't the first time they were arguing. since someone took their son away from them, their relationship got even more fragile days after days.
“no, you don't. so if you wanna make this letter public, you better accept her/him when he'll be back. or else, you would definitely lose him. and me this time. no queen anymore, no prince as future king, no daughter-in-law/son-in-law anymore to be a future queen/king. you'd be alone and you'd have to stay there until the end.”
the queen stood up from her sofa, and started to walk away.
“take this as a way to thank him/her. because since the very first day they met each other until now, she/he never let Seonghwa down. and for the moment, Seonghwa has no one else. without this person by his side, i don't even think he would still be alive..”
she opened the door. but before leaving, she stopped to add one last thing.
“your daughter-in-law/son-in-law, if you accept it, is Choi y/n.”
     the woman left the room. the king was speechless — he knew his wife was right. he couldn't take you away from Seonghwa. impossible.
###
    after the woman left Seonghwa's room, you gave your boyfriend his clothes to be comfortable in his own clothes rather than in the hospital's clothes. and you even changed yourself in more comfortable clothes.
Seonghwa ate the meal tray normally, and the nurse even did her best to get you one to eat with him. it wasn't the best food you've ever eaten, yet it was enough for you.
     and after this moment with him, eating and talking about everything and anything, you both layed down in each other's arms. you were looking through the window, at the starry night.
     “a clear night like that.. it reminds me of our prom date.”
you were almost daydreaming, thinking about this night.
     “it was literally two days ago.”
Seonghwa gently mocked you. he was looking at your sparkling eyes with a bright smile.
     “prince of my heart, don't make fun of me.”
     “the only kingdom i wanna rule.”
Seonghwa giggled as he pulled you closer to his chest. he even kissed your forehead multiple times.
“i really don't want to be the prince. i hope my family is somewhere else..”
     “if we forget about the fact that would mean having a statute.. i just wish you find your family. them or not, i don't care. i want to thank your real mom for giving birth to you.”
you wrapped both your arms around your boyfriend's waist. you also rested your head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat.
     “i'm afraid to meet my parents, to be honest.. i don't know how things will be going.”
     “i understand the unknown may scare you. but you can't avoid this for ever. it's hurting you, you know that. and it's hurting them. you'll get to know the truth about what happened. there's a lot to win by finding them, and meeting them.”
     Seonghwa only nodded. he was now the one looking at the dark sky while you were half asleep against his chest, under the blanket. the stars and the mood was lightening up perfectly the room, without making it too bright. it didn't take you too much time to fall into a light sleep.
     “i'm so afraid y/n... i don't wanna lose you by meeting them.. you said the truth thinking about me but.. i'm ready to give up on my family for you..”
he kissed your forehead as he held you tighter. he was looking at you sleeping, and quickly fell asleep too.
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wylanvnneck · 3 years
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Rating: G for Giganotosaurus
Summary: Based on a TFOTA headcanon which I posted on Tumblr about Cardan and Jude visiting the Mortal world and Cardan getting introduced to pick-up lines. That he uses. Frequently. Which, of course completely irritates Jude.
Originally posted on AO3 | Next Chapter | Masterlist
Chapter 1
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Jude lets out a slight sigh of exhaustion as she fights to remain poised on her throne, the picture of elegance in front of her reveling subjects. She cannot show any signs of weakness. Her husband beside her steals a glance at her from over his wine glass, noting the weariness on her face that she is attempting to hide.
She can’t help but feel a little relieved when Cardan sets the glass of wine down as he stands and announces, “The Queen and I will be retiring for the day, but do carry on with the merry making.”
She takes a moment to drink in the sight of him imperiously addressing his subjects, the gold on his cheeks glistening under the bright lights. His black eyes shining, highlighted by the Kohl on his lids. The crown sitting regally atop his raven locks which fall over the pointy-tipped ears that mark his ancestry. He is beautiful, untouchable and yet, hers. She takes the arm that he extends as they gracefully exit the hall, headed towards their bed chambers.
“Tired, my mortal goddess?” he murmurs in her ear as they walk.
She is tempted to lie, so as to not appear fragile, but this was Cardan. The only person for whom she would remove her armour.
So she replies, “ A little, I admit,” looking up into his raven eyes that seem to hold a glint of concern.
He knew that the constant celebrations of the Fae took a toll on her, but she refused to shirk her duties as the Queen of Elfhame, attending every revel. The matter often caused fights between them but the make ups were always just as passionate as their yelling was.
“Your Majesties, please excuse me,” they are intercepted by Fand, Jude’s personal knight. “Your sister has sent you a letter, Your Highness.” She hands Jude a letter with her name scrawled on the envelope in Vivi’s sloppy cursive. For a moment she’d hoped it was from Taryn, her twin with whom she maintained a rather tenuous relationship. She was still glad to hear from Vivi  who kept up a correspondence with her between the Mortal world and the Fae one, both of them exchanging letters, although oftentimes Jude’s many duties would intercede.
“Thank you Fand, you may go.” She thumbs the letter as Fand respectfully bows and retreats.
“I wonder what your sister has to say this time?” Cardan remarks as they enter their rooms, immediately starting to remove his extravagant attire and change into his equally extravagant silk night robe.
“No idea, I only hope it’s nothing to do with Madoc and Oriana.” Jude’s relationship with her father was a very, very fragile one. After all that had transpired between them, she hadn’t yet reached out to him, with only Vivi’s letters to provide her with any news of his doings in the Mortal Realm since she’d banished him. He’d said that he understood her actions, but understanding did not mean forgiving.  Not that she needed forgiving. He was the one in the wrong. But he was also still the man who had raised her to be the warrior she was now.
As if sensing her thoughts, Cardan steps closer to where she is standing by the doorframe, gently nudging her with his now free tail as she rips open the envelope. He rests his head on her shoulder and joins her in her attempt to decipher Vivi’s handwriting.
“She’s inviting us to come and visit them in the mortal realm for a while, now that things are calmer.” It was indeed true that months had passed since Jude had slayed Cardan’s serpentine form, fulfilling the prophecy and the two had brought peace to Elfhame by ridding it of Madoc’s rebels.
“She says that a short break would be beneficial for the both of us and that Oak keeps asking to see me.” She smiles to herself as she thinks of her precocious younger brother.
“That sounds like an excellent idea,” Cardan says. “You deserve a break, Jude. More importantly, I do, for all the hard work I attend to,” he adds with an exaggerated yawn and a smug look.
She gives that last statement as much attention as it deserved, which is to say, she ignores it.
“But can we afford to take a break? What about the safety of our Kingdom?”
“I’m sure that the Court of Shadows and our bloodthirsty redcap general can handle the Kingdom in our absence and it would only be for a few days. Besides, I am curious to see more of where my wife spent her days during her...exile.” He falters slightly on that last word, shooting her a wary look. He knows that Jude did not at all appreciate his trickery that had led to those miserable days in exile. She has forgiven him, mostly, but there was no harm in keeping the High King on his toes.
She narrows her eyes at him and in response he presses a penitent kiss to her lips.
Before they can get too wrapped up in each other he pulls away, “So it’s settled? We shall spend a few days in the mortal realm with your sister?”
“I suppose so.” Now that Jude is resigned to the idea she feels a spark of excitement at visiting her family.
* * *
A few nights later the couple, accompanied by the Roach, make their way to the sea that separates them from the Mortal lands as the fog swirls around them, each carrying saddlebags. Cardan conjures two bony Ragwort ponies from a few stalks, silent and ready to carry them across the realms. They have donned mortal clothes, Jude in a sensible black pair of shorts and a dark top, under which she has concealed her various weapons and Cardan looking quite irregular in his tight-fitting denim jeans and loose white shirt that Jude had scrounged up for him. Despite her best efforts at pleading with him, she had not succeeded in having his gold cheeks and kohl removed, creating a very striking yet confusing image of the Fae in ill-fitting mortal clothes. He did, at least, promise to glamour the pointed tips of his ears once they’d crossed.
“Worry not, Your Highnesses, your Kingdom is in good hands,” the Roach bids them farewell.
“I do hope so,” Cardan replies, giving him a quick nod, mounting his steed after Jude and tangling his fingers in the horse's leafy mane as they take off into the night.
It’s nearing dawn once they’re outside Vivi and Heather’s apartment, the horses dissolving into stalks that blow away in the dark and quiet surroundings. Cardan takes in the sights around him and Jude remembers that he’d been here once before, coming to Vivi for help after Madoc had kidnapped Jude right from Cardan’s presence, thinking she was Taryn.
“It is strange. The last time I was here I was in such a hurry to find you that I didn’t really notice much of what was around me,” he says, his enhanced eyesight not at all hindered by the darkness.
“What do you think of the mortal world so far?” Jude asks, ringing the doorbell.
“Usually at this time we Fae would be feasting and dancing, but here it’s so still and silent. It seems that no one is awake.”
“Sometimes mortals actually do have night time revels,” she replies, thinking of the nightclubs that Vivi used to sneak off to back when they lived with Madoc. She’d sometimes waltz back into Jude’s room upon returning and describe her night to her half-impressed, half-disapproving sisters, her cheeks flushed from alcohol and dancing. It felt like ages ago.
“Is that so? Perhaps while we are here we should attend one of these revels,” Cardan suggests, head tilting.
“Perhaps,” Jude replies distractedly as she wonders why it was taking so long  for someone to answer the door. They had sent a quick note informing her sister of their impending visit so they should be expected.
Finally Vivi swings open the door, her petite body clothed in a baggy set of pajamas, “Jude, you’re here,” she opens the door wider, scanning her sister with her golden cat’s eyes.
“Hello Vivi,” Jude steps inside and gives her a quick hug with Cardan following in her wake, “Sister-in-law,” he teases.
“Pain-in-law,” Vivi responds, not missing a beat. Jude smiles to herself. It was good to see her sassy half-sister again.
Jude follows her sister to the kitchen counter as she fumbles around for some mugs to make coffee in. Cardan settles himself onto a high stool, intrigued by the coffee machine that Vivi was currently operating. The three of them linger in the kitchen for some time, drinking their beverages and exchanging stories, Jude relating stories of Elfhame and court happenings and Vivi catching them up on the recent happenings in the Mortal world and Oak’s schooling and Heather’s job. Jude is relieved to know that Madoc and Oriana hadn’t gotten into any trouble in the mortal world, at least not as yet, and that they were currently living somewhere quite far off, though they did frequently come and visit Oak. They wouldn’t be visiting while Jude was here, she was glad to hear. That confrontation would have to come at some point she supposed, but not just yet.
Finally, Vivi calls it a night, showing them to the room they were to occupy and leaving them to return to her sleeping girlfriend’s side.
Cardan takes in the messy bedroom, with a half-heartedly made up bed, obviously a last minute preparation for their arrival. “So, this is where you slept when you were here?” He lays on the bed and slowly stretches his legs out in a cat-like manner, watching Jude as she deposits their bags on the floor.  
“Indeed. Not quite the level of luxury you’re used to, Your Highness,” she smirks, crawling onto the bed beside him. She pushes him aside to make space for herself.
“Nevertheless, there is something to be said about smaller beds,” he responds, putting his arm about her waist and pulling her close, freeing his tail from the jeans to wrap around her calf.
“Hmm…” she mumbles tiredly, resting her head on his chest, feeling her husband’s hands stroking her chestnut hair, lulling her to sleep.
Thank you to @cupcakesandkittens​ for encouraging me to post this fic on tumblr as well.💕
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Please let me know if you'd like me to tag you in further installations of this fic:))
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Devoted 2
part 9
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Overall warning/s: kinkier smut (eg. voyeurism, exhibition, etc.) character death, dark themes
Just how devoted is Jaehyun to you?
prev: part 8
wc: 8.2k
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You could hear voices outside. You peek out of one eye, blinded by the light after being shut for so long and automatically forced them open when you realized it was the sunlight coming from the window that blinded you. You whipped your head towards the little alarm clock on your nightstand, blinking at the red numbers that read 10:54 AM. 
Shit.
You sat up, cussing at yourself when your head began to spin. Pausing for a moment, you realized you didn’t have anything planned today aside from getting groceries for tonight’s get together. Still, you scold yourself, you shouldn’t be oversleeping; not after last night’s events. 
Then you heard voices outside your room again. It sounded like Jaehyun, but why was he still home? The other voice took you a moment to register, but eventually recognized it as Yuta’s. Why were they here at this hour? You swung your legs over the bed and trudged to the bathroom to freshen up. When you were done, you threw on some decent clothing and peeked out of the door.
You froze when you met eyes with a complete stranger, heart dropping to the floor as you assumed the worse. He doesn’t seem to notice your distress at his presence, respectfully bowing his head and quietly greeting you a good morning. It throws you off for a moment until Jaehyun appears behind him and smiles at you.
“Good morning, baby. Did you sleep well?”
“I,” You looked down the hall and spotted a couple more men, dressed in the same shirt as the first one, talking to Yuta, “Yeah… aren’t you supposed to be at work?”
“Not today. I’m having the security cameras installed. Get your phone, by the way, so you can download their app.”
You got your phone and followed him out into the living room, where Yuta smiles at you.
“Good morning! I hope we didn’t wake you up.” He gestures to his employees.
“Not at all! If anything, I should be thanking you for doing so since I overslept.”
He motions for you to come closer, pointing to a dark gray box by the television, “Here, the QR code for the app is on the camera’s router. It saves every footage from each camera and only you two have access to it; or a third party of your choice in case of emergencies, which I recommend you doing. Jaehyun is already designated as the admin, unless you have any qualms on that.”
You playfully hum, jutting your bottom lip out and crossing your arms, “I do, actually.”
Jaehyun chuckles, “You can be the admin to it, dear.” 
“I’m kidding, does it really matter which one of us is the admin?” You opened up your phone’s camera and placed it over the QR code. It sends you to a website, titled Nakamoto Technologies, that has a small text greeting Jaehyun, and a unique download button for the app. You tapped on the button and waited for it to download.
“Sir,” One of Yuta’s employees came forward, “We’re done with installing the cameras.”
“Ah, good. Please set it up as well.” He nods, turning to you and Jaehyun, “Come watch so you’ll know what to do in case there’s a system error or reboot.”
You gather at the kitchen table where the man opens up their company laptop and begins to go through the steps one by one.
As his employee demonstrates, your phone vibrates to notify you that the download has finished and you launch the app. You’re taken to a feed of the hallway outside your apartment, where one of the employees is checking the camera and gives a thumbs up.
“Door cam is live.” The man in front of you announced.
You swiped right and the feed changed; you saw yourself along with the others and you looked over to where the camera was at. It was a small dark dome in the corner of the ceiling, barely noticeable at first glance and could even pass off as a light fixture.
“Living room cam is live. So is the hallway camera and kitchen camera. Waiting for the balcony and bedroom camera feeds.”
A part of you still didn’t feel safe as you watched the other camera feeds connect. If the person does get in, the only thing these cameras can do is alert Jaehyun and be a witness to the possible crime done onto you. The thought sends a shiver down your spine. You’re still praying to every higher being that this is all some prank and whoever Kun was trying to tell you about is just a thing of the past.
You feel a hand come over your shoulders and Jaehyun squeezes you lightly, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” You dismissed, “Just need some coffee. Would any of you like anything?”
After they assured you they were fine, you ambled over to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of coffee. You glanced at the kitchen camera; it didn’t look noticeable either. Choosing the hazelino muffin flavor and popping the bronzy pod into the Nespresso machine, you leaned against the counter and waited for it to brew. Did Jaehyun take a day off today just to have the cameras installed? Or is he coming into work when they’re finished?
Today, Ten was coming in from Thailand to visit and everyone was adamant to get together. Fortunately, you and Jaehyun already volunteered to host the gathering. You had to go to the grocery to pick up some ingredients for the food you had planned on serving. Would Jaehyun accompany you? You glanced over your shoulder just as your coffee was ready and saw Jaehyun and Yuta talking seriously. 
Her personal camera.
That’s what you could read from your fiance’s lips. Personal camera? For what?
Images from that time in his office and the lewd video saved on his computer flashed in your head, bringing a wave of heat over your cheeks.
Oh.
You picked up your coffee mug and softly blew at it, wondering if Jaehyun had ever watched that video back.
A cell phone rang behind you and Jaehyun’s voice took over the abrupt halt of the ringtone.
“What? She hasn’t been home for 3 days?”
The concern in his voice makes you spin around. Who was he talking about?
“How about our cameras? Nothing?” He puts a hand over his forehead and uses his thumb and ring finger to rub circles on his temples, “Okay. Yeah, no, she—she’s fine. They’re done installing here. I’ll let her know. You take care, too, hyung.”
That must have been Yunho, then. You let out a little gasp; were they talking about Mina? Dread and worry began to bubble in your stomach. Could the person who sent the note be the reason why Mina is missing? Was she kidnapped? You put your mug down and paced towards Jaehyun, “Was that about Mina?”
He frowns, “Y-yeah, it was. Yunho said her family requested for a welfare check after she didn’t contact them like she usually does when she gets home. The police have been contacted already.”
“I hope she’s okay.” You bit down on your lip, “Nothing seemed strange when she left for work the day she was last seen?”
“No, she went home with one of the secretaries, Sera. But Sera says they separated at the train station because Mina said she was going to meet someone and that was the last of their interaction. Mina never mentioned who she was meeting or where exactly she was going.”
“Then police should search up any surveillance cameras around the area to determine where she went off to.” Yuta interjected, “There’s bound to be establishments that have their own CCTVs that caught her.”
You put a hand on Jaehyun’s arm, “Please update me about her situation, okay?”
“Okay.” He pulled you forward and kissed your forehead, “I’m sure she’s fine. Let’s not think the worst has befallen her.”
“Even so, she looks like someone who would put up a good fight before going down.” Yuta curtly chuckles before he clears his throat. “Looks like the setup is done and everything is working fine. If they’re are any problems, I’m a call away.”
“Thank you, Yuta. Are you sure you don’t want me to pay for this?”
“Let’s call it an engagement gift.” He grins brightly, “And if you want the same setup for your house, we’ll call that a housewarming gift.”
Yuta and his workers left shortly afterwards, leaving you to return to your coffee and Jaehyun insisting he’ll cook lunch for the two of you.
“What time does Ten arrive?” He asks, washing his hands at the sink.
“Two, I think. He’ll have a few hours to rest up a bit at his hotel.” You take a lengthy gulp of your coffee, softly moaning at the warmth coating your throat. “Oh, I have to go to the grocery!”
Jaehyun hums, “Okay, let’s go around three?”
You smile to yourself; of course he wouldn’t let you go alone. You definitely did not mind. It’s been a while since the two of you went grocery shopping together. “Sounds good. I’m sure they’ll be here at 9 so there’s plenty of time to cook and dilly dally.”
“Dilly dally?” He repeats, clearly amused as he spares you a glance before fetching ingredients in the refrigerator. “What exactly do you mean by dilly dally?”
“Whatever you want it to mean as, baby.” You shot back with a wink, “But it feels so tense lately, a bubble bath sounds good right now.”
“You deserve one, baby.”
You pout, “I think you deserve one, too. Even a massage.”
Jaehyun shakes his head, unable to contain his smile. “Should I call for a masseuse later?”
“Like I’d let any other woman touch you for too long.” You huffed, jutting your bottom lip out at the thought.
“I’d still like a massage though. If I do the dishes, can I get a happy ending?”
“Of cou— have you ever received a happy ending massage?!”
He bursts out laughing, “No, I haven’t. Don’t worry. Are those even still a thing? Like there are still salons that offer that?”
“I don’t know and we never will because we can handle it ourselves, okay?”
“Baby, calm down, do you honestly think I’d avail that from anyone else aside from you? Besides, I only found out about those when I was in high school.”
Your ears perked up at this, “High school?”
“Yeah, I told you how my friends back then were basically scum, right? Every week, especially after training, they’d get massages. I went once and the girl offered the happy ending service — which I didn’t really understand until she tried reaching for my dick and I declined it.” He practically shuddered at the memory, pausing from chopping onions. “I never went with them again.”
This was the first time he openly talked about something from when he was in high school. It’s not a happy memory, but he’s still opening up.
“Do you really hate them? Your friends from high school, I mean.”
Jaehyun doesn’t respond at first and you patiently wait for him to set aside the vegetables he’s cut before he looks at you. “I still had fun with them, I guess. If it weren’t for the vices, I would have liked to stay friends with most of them.”
You’re finished with your coffee, bringing it over to the sink to wash and put it away on the rack. Afterwards, you walked over to Jaehyun and kissed his cheek as a silent thank you for opening up.
He glances at you with an unsure smile, knowing you kissed him for something but wasn’t sure on the cause, so you took the chance to kiss his lips.
“I’ll set the table.” You quietly murmured after he pulled away.
Instead of the actual dining table, you only laid out the kitchenware on the breakfast counter. Jaehyun finished cooking just as you got two bowls full of rice and sat yourself down on the barstool. He brings over the food after plating and plays a song on his phone after quickly hooking up the bluetooth speakers from the living room.
You both start eating, appreciatively moaning at the burst of flavor dancing on your tongue. What you’d do to have Jaehyun cook for the two of you permanently if he wasn’t so busy with work. 
“Oh, right. My mom called this morning. She found two possible wedding venues for us already.” Jaehyun informs you after swallowing. “One is a high end resort and the other is a private property; a friend of hers. I think it’s Yebin’s aunt.”
“Doesn’t the resort sound better? We can reserve rooms for the guests.”
“If we choose the resort, we’ll be reserving the whole place.”
You almost choked on your food, “We barely have 50 guests, Jaehyun. I don’t think we have to reserve the entire place. There are people who could have been waiting to book that place for a vacation.”
He purses his lips, “Then let’s go with my mom’s friend. It’s a villa they own for their family’s vacation homes and they have cherry blossom trees that fit the color scheme you want. We could have the entire place for ourselves. We wouldn’t need that much security either.”
Pushing the rice around your bowl with your chopsticks, you silently reminded yourself how prominent of a family Jaehyun belonged to. It would make headlines, of course, and there’s bound to be press trying to sneak a few shots of the wedding. Privacy is top priority among the Jungs.
“Okay. But can we do an ocular?” 
“Oh, uhm…” Jaehyun trails off, “I might have an overseas trip this weekend. Is it okay if only you and mom go? Her friend is only available this week, too, before she heads back to Europe.”
You’re a little disappointed, but you’re not going to tell him you want him there because you’re certain he’ll do everything in his power to cancel the trip for a petty request. You nod your head, “I don’t mind! In fact, maybe I’ll ask my mom to tag along and we can have a nice girl’s weekend.”
“That sounds great.” He grins, “Ask Minkyung and Yebin as well, maybe they’re free.”
“If we want cherry blossoms to bloom on our wedding day, that would give us six months from today.” It’s the middle of September and Spring starts in April. “Isn’t that too quick? Doesn’t wedding planning take at least a year?”
He reaches over the table and puts his hands over yours, “Would you rather have me preserve cherry blossom trees for our wedding?”
You feel your eyes almost bugging out at the suggestion, “That… sounds expensive… preserve a tree?”
“No, love, a couple of trees. We can’t just have one, maybe six? And you know I wouldn’t mind spending millions for our wedding.”
“Well I mind!” You groaned, “But honestly, a spring wedding is the most ideal for me, if not a winter one.”
Jaehyun chuckles, “I don’t mind having a wedding for each season, baby. If you’re worried about the cost and the possible annoyance of our friends and families at having four weddings, then we could always just dress up for the occasion and do it ourselves.”
This makes you laugh while shaking your head in disbelief, “Just say our vows, kiss, and dance for a night?”
“Who knows, maybe for the winter ‘wedding’, we’ll be three.”
It didn’t click in your head at first what he had meant at first because as cheesy as it sounds, the way he looked at you with soft, gleaming eyes had you distracted for a moment, but his thumb moves across your knuckles and you have visions of his hand running over your swollen belly.
“That soon?” You lightheartedly teased, moving your hand so your fingers intertwined.
“I said ‘maybe.’” He squeezes your hand, “We’ll have a baby whenever you’re ready.”
“Well then,” You retract your hand away from his when you see both your plates are empty, “I can promise you that you don’t have to wait a year.”
You stand up and start to reach for his plates but he lightly swats your hands away.
“Nuh uh, not today. I’ll do the dishes.”
“But you already cooked for us.”
“And I’ll clean up for us, too.” He drags your plate away from you and stands up as well. “For a price, of course.”
The coy smile on his face makes you narrow your gaze at him. Putting a hand on your hip, you cocked a brow, “And that price is?”
He winks at you, “It involves your mouth.”
“That’s it?” You scoffed, sashaying over to his side of the table, “Easy.”
The smug look on his face is instantly wiped away when you grab his crotch and he winces in shock.
“I—I meant later—” 
“Oh, I know. Just warming it up.”
Jaehyun tries to move away, but ends up bucking his hips into your touch when you flex your hands. The pained expression on his face makes you giggle, seeing the conflict of trying to be sane enough to do his chores or just giving into your temptation. 
You pull away and cross your arms, “I’ll go run us a bath now.”
“God damn it.” He grumbles, but sucks in a breath and forces out a smile, “Okay. I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Take your time.”
“No the fuck I won’t.”
You burst out laughing, spying the annoyance in his features as he walks past you after gathering the plates in his hands. You make your way down the hall, glancing at the newly installed camera without much thought, and head inside the bathroom. As you run the bath, you peruse through your small collection of bath bombs and pick out a pink and grayish-purple one with a rose design. Giving it a quick whiff, you sigh at the scent of jasmine and ylang-ylang invading your senses. Any other day, Jaehyun would have probably preferred the green tea and peppermint one (although you’re convinced he’s only amused that it’s shaped like a dinosaur) but you’re certain he’s going to love this one just as much.
You gently lower it into the warm water, the instant fizzing of the bath bomb as it disintegrates in your hand tickles you. You let it float on its own to turn the tap off and decide to get it before Jaehyun comes. However, as you were halfway through tugging off your shirt above your head, a pair of hands slithered over your bare waist from behind to your chest. You toss your shirt to the side and strained your neck to look at Jaehyun, who merely smiles.
“Oh, don’t mind me, I’m just warming it up.”
“Enough warming up, the water will get cold.” You pushed against him using your butt as you peeled down your shorts and underwear. 
He steps back and you think it’s so he could take off his clothes, but then you feel his hands on your ass, spreading your cheeks apart so he could access your pussy with his tongue. You fall forward, grabbing onto the edge of the tub with a loud gasp.
“Jae—”
He moans and the vibrations affect you as well. You weren’t very keen on this position, not when his nose is just poking at your anus, but he obviously doesn’t mind. 
“Jaehyun,” You whimpered when his tongue reached your clit, “The water.”
He relents, standing up after delivering a soft smack on your pussy, but doesn’t let go of your body. “I know, I know.”
You straighten yourself up, only to flinch when he snakes his hand between your legs. “If you keep doing that, I’ll feel bad about wasting this bath I ran.”
He chuckles, kissing your shoulder, “Which one is this one?”
“It’s jasmine-scented.” You push his hand away and spin around, grabbing hold onto the edge of his shirt. “It’s called Sex Bomb.”
His eyebrows shoot up ever so slightly, “Is that so? Well, let’s get my clothes off and hop in.”
“If you could have just kept your hands to yourself for just a second, we could have breezed through that step ages ago.” You pulled his shirt up and he shrugs it off completely, tossing it to where you discarded your shirt. You then push his sweats down and he kicks it off to the side.
Getting into the tub first, you wait for him to make himself comfortable before sitting between his legs and leaning back on his chest. The water’s temperature was just right, not too hot for the two of you to be bothered or too cold for either of you to get sick.
“Can we please make joined bath times a weekly thing?” You sighed, hugging onto one of his arms that slung around you.
“Baby, you read my mind.” Jaehyun kisses the back of your head. “Now, about that payment for earlier.”
You rolled your shoulders back, exaggerating your movements, “Ooh, my body still feels a bit stiff though.”
Jaehyun scoffs behind you, bringing his hands over your chest, “That’s it?” Mocking your tone from earlier, “Easy.”
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“A new house!” Ten exclaims, pounding his fist on the table, shaking the cocktails in their glasses. “Tell me when and where so I can clear my schedule for the housewarming!”
“Knowing Jung, it’s not just a house.” Yebin makes a remark as she narrows her eyes at you for confirmation, to which you move your head around in a nonchalant manner, and she scoffs, “Of course.”
“Heard the Kangs bought new land down south.” Jaehyun snides, laid back on his chair with his arm draped on the back of yours. “Is it another private property or are you commercializing it?”
She snorts, rolling her eyes, “Of course we’re commercializing it. A resort we’ll have the honor of staying at before it even opens.”
Doyoung makes a face at her, “So, we’re the guinea pigs?”
Everyone laughs when Yebin unabashedly shrugs her shoulders and crinkles her nose.
“Oh!” You exclaimed, perking up in your seat. “Speaking of private property, Yebin, Minkyung, are you guys free this weekend? I’ll be doing an ocular for the wedding venue and it would be a great girl’s weekend—”
Minkyung gasps with visible excitement in her eyes, “Bachelorette party?!”
“Do you want strippers—ow!” Yebin yelps, jerking up and hitting her knee on the table. She glares at Jaehyun, “What are you, 12?”
“Our mothers are coming along.” He grits through his teeth before taking a sip of his whiskey. “I suggested having the two of you tag along since I’ll be out of the country this weekend.”
“Well then, I’m in! We can plan the actual bachelorette party there.” Minkyung gleefully chirps, smiling at you.
“No—ow!” It was Jaehyun’s turn to cry, hitting the underside of the table so hard that the forks clattered.
“Johnny, plan this man a bachelor’s party!” Yebin elbows the man beside her, who’s brows shoot up as he glances at Jaehyun.
“Okay. Leave it to me.”
Jaehyun grimaces and you laugh at his expression, knowing he can’t stop Johnny now if he says those four words.
“Enough about us!” You wave your hand around, feeling warm from your fourth glass of wine. “How about you guys? Dons? Are you still hooking up with that divorce attorney?”
Doyoung almost spat out his whiskey, quickly grabbing a napkin to dab his lips. Everyone begins to jeer as he coughs loudly, “Uhm, yeah, every other week. Just to destress, you know?”
“Nice.” Yebin raises her wine glass at him, but he just makes a face at her. “Oh my god, imagine if you accidentally knock that chick up. You’d have a kid before these two.”
“Not a chance. She’s both on pills and film.” Doyoung vehemently shuts the idea down, shaking his head in denial. “I’m not fit to be a dad either.”
“Aw, Dons,” You coo, “You don’t know that. Didn’t you have a name planned for a son back in high school?”
He sucks his teeth, looking up as he tries to remember, eyes growing wide along with a smile, “Oh, right! I think I said Jeno or something. I don’t know; that was for that project on genetics.”
“Oh my god,” Minkyung props her elbow up on the table and rests her chin on her palm, “Could you guys imagine all our kids being friends? That would be so cute. Please! We need to make them best friends, too!”
“Honey, that’s only happening if we all manage to get pregnant or impregnate someone in a specific timeline.” Yebin points out, taking another swig of her drink.
Minkyung pouts for a brief moment, using her free hand to meticulously tap her manicured nails rhythmically on the table before slapping the surface and leaning towards you. “When are you two having kids?”
You almost regurgitate your drink back into the glass, surprised that she was really contemplating the idea.
“[Y/N] promised we don’t have to wait a year after the wedding.” Jaehyun casually answers, swirling his whiskey around, “So maybe by the end of the next year?”
“Okay, I can do that.” Minkyung tells herself.
Yebin stares at her, “Min, you’re not actually thinking about having a baby just to make sure they’ll be besties with theirs. Think about your job.”
Minkyung worked as a model that was highly sought after by high end fashion brands and this barely gave her time to socialize since she flew to Europe and America for fashion weeks and photoshoots, let alone date someone.
“So I’ll be on hiatus for a few years, so what?” She waves her hand, “If these two are having kids, I am going to give them the best present: a best friend.”
“You don’t have a boyfriend.” Ten points out, “Gosh, do you even get laid?”
“You don’t know two shits, Ten.” Minkyung retorts in a sweet voice and an innocent smile. “Anyways, there’s something I am very curious about and I’m tipsy enough to ask it without regrets: what happened between you and Johnny?”
The table went silent for a moment before the two men in question burst out laughing.
“John, didn’t you tell them?”
“I was hoping I didn’t have to... with what’s going on and all but…” Johnny scratches his nape, letting out a heavy sigh, “Our relationship was just for shits and giggles. We established that from the get go especially since my parents arranged a marriage for me between a business partner.”
“I thought you got out of that?” Jaehyun asks, moving the hand behind to your shoulder and giving you a lazy massage. “The Bae conglomerate, right?”
Johnny nods his head, releasing another drawn out sigh before taking a sip, “Yeah, the one that hates men.”
“Irene?” Yebin’s eyes looked like they were about to pop out of her head, “Her parents are arranging her marriage… with you?!”
“I’m sorry, is there something wrong with marrying me?” He says in faux offense, putting a hand over his chest and jutting his bottom lip out at her. “But, yeah, Irene. You know her?”
Jaehyun mumbles something into his glass about not being surprised about that, although those across the table — including Yebin — hears him, prompting Yebin to give him a pointed glare.
“Yeah, we were classmates. Kyeonggi Girls’.”
You licked your lips; “Kyeonggi…?”
“The elite all girls’ academy.” She flips her hair and bats her eyelashes at you, “Everyone was fake.”
“Why does that school sound familiar?”
“Because I went to Kyeonggi Boys’? Their brother school? Did you forget?” Jaehyun pinched your waist and you jerked towards him, backhanding his stomach for doing so. “But I agree, our school is a breeding ground for fakes.”
“I bet your schools had mandatory boy-girl interactions.” Johnny chuckled, “Did you two meet back then?”
“No. Thank god.” They said in unison, making everyone burst out into laughter while they share annoyed looks at one another.
“But, [Y/N],” Jaehyun clears his throat to cut the noise, “You mentioned before that we could have met back then.”
You frowned, not recalling what he was saying, “I did?”
“That interschool sports festival? You told me you won first place in swimming and my team won in basketball.”
“Oh!” You remembered now; during one of your first dates while you talked about competitive swimming, you mentioned winning an interschool competition and that was the time Jaehyun told you where he studied in high school after recognizing the said festival. You cupped his face, “I watched all the basketball games, though, I can’t believe I missed your face.”
“That’s because his visuals are just so-so back in high school. Kyeonggi Boys’ are assholes, but they’re hot. Jung must have blended right in, especially if he’s on varsity basketball.” 
“I don’t know if I should be offended you clustered me with them as being assholes or flattered you called us hot.”
“Don’t let it get to your ego, Jung, your fiancee is right there. Besides,” Yebin leaned back, “Almost every girl in Kyeonggi’s wanted your dick. They loved the ice prince vibes; they didn’t even care that someone spread rumors that you were gay… I suppose it’s better that you two didn’t get together in high school because I’m sure my bitch ass classmates would tear your reputation apart.”
Jaehyun makes an indignant sound in retort, “I would have protected her if that had happened.”
Yebin makes a snide comment and sparks another little bicker between her and Jaehyun with Minkyung trying to calm both (mostly Yebin) down. You glance around the table, eyes a little heavy already; Ten and Johnny are talking to themselves about business, while Doyoung was on his phone. Sneaking a peek, you let out a scandalized gasp when you caught sight of the text he had just received.
“You? Sexting?” You put a hand over your mouth to further prove your shock at what you had witnessed. “Dons, just date the woman!”
His face goes bright red, eyes avoiding every gaze turned to him as everyone starts to tease him. “It’s nothing serious! I’m still not attracted to her, I just like the sex!”
“It always starts out that way.” Ten nudged him with his shoulder, “Just let yourself fall when it happens.”
“Anyways!” He exclaims, ready to change the topic, “Jaehyun’s bachelor party, yeah?”
“I don’t want one.” Jaehyun shakes his head, but the three other men have launched themselves into planning it.
“Invite Sicheng!” You butt into their conversation, “Oh, and Yuta, too!”
“Yuta?” Johnny repeats, “Nakamoto? Sure, why not. He’s a cool guy.”
“Ah, of Nakamoto Technologies?”
You knew Johnny knew Yuta, but you didn’t expect Doyoung to know him as well. “You know him, Dons?”
He shrugs, “Not really, but remember that emergency regarding a hack in our system? It was resolved, but the CEO wants to change suppliers. Nakamoto Tech was suggested to us and they seem efficient and trustworthy.”
“They handle our security systems, too. Both at work and here.” Jaehyun mentions, putting his hand back over your shoulder.
“He was here this morning.”
“But you’re moving, why do you need to install a security system here?” Doyoung asks, turning his gaze to where you gestured: the barely noticeable CCTV camera dome in the kitchen ceiling corner.
You open your mouth, ready to answer, but you hesitate, turning to Jaehyun instead, who seemed reluctant to give a reason as well. “Well,”
“Oh my god! Is it your stalker from college? He found you again, didn’t he?” Minkyung lets out a concerned gasp, putting her wine glass down.
You were ready to deny her allegations, but Jaehyun’s voice overpowers yours as he responds, “I’m afraid so. We’re tightening security up to catch him and put him in his place. That’s why I’m a little reluctant to go away for that business trip.”
You stayed quiet, confused as to why Jaehyun would say it was your college stalker, but then again it would be harder to explain why the two of you know that it’s not the guy from college. His hand finds yours under the table and he squeezes tightly with you returning the motion.
“Then hire a damn bodyguard for her!” Yebin yells, “You know you can’t be with her every waking hour and you can’t just lock her up, too!”
“I know that.” Jaehyun grits, “I’m already on top of it. I just haven’t run the idea by [Y/N] yet but I’ve already chosen two bodyguards for her.”
“Isn’t that too much?” You chewed on your bottom lip, glancing between Yebin and Jaehyun. “Do I really need two?”
“Yes.” They, along with Johnny, said. Jaehyun quickly follows up with, “It’s so that they can take turns. Think of it like morning and night shifts. If it were up to me, I would recommend two at a time.”
You shake your head, “I don’t need four bodyguards. But okay, if you think I really need them, then I’d like to meet the two you’ve chosen.”
“There’s a whole company worth of them if you don’t like the two I’ve picked out for you.”
“Oh, are these from Moon Security Services?” Johnny inquires, “Then you’ll be in good hands. Taeil has the best bodyguards and security personnel in the business. Don’t let his looks represent his employees, they’re all army trained.”
As you listened to their conversation, you picked a muscat grape from the platter in front of you and popped it into your mouth. Jaehyun, Johnny, Yebin, and Ten all come from rich families; it would be no surprise that they know who and what the best of best are. Minkyung, despite sharing the same last name as Yebin, isn’t from the Kang Conglomerate, and she proclaims herself as the pauper of the group, yet she studied all her school life under a scholarship and now earns at least 5-digits in dollars as a model. You and Doyoung come from well-off families and work well-paying jobs as well, although yours depended on your clients which made you the one in the group that earned the least. It wasn’t something that bothered you, but moments like these reminded you of it. Without Jaehyun, you wouldn’t be sipping on Schiava or munching on expensive grapes every week. Without him, you wouldn’t be living comfortably in a penthouse and soon, in a mansion that could house four families.  You’d like to think you would still do well even if you weren’t with Jaehyun, but the thought of not being with him isn’t something you let your mind dwell on.
You feel a kiss on your temple; you closed your eyes and let yourself smile. When Jaehyun pulls away, you peer up at him and he asks, “Are you okay?”
“Just drowning in my thoughts. Thanks for pulling me out.”
“Is it the stalker?” Minkyung asks, “Karma will bite his ass eventually, [Y/N].”
“I just… What would he want from me anyways? Why me?”
Jaehyun kisses your hair, “If it’s you he wants, then honestly, I don’t blame him.”
“And if it’s not that guy from college,” Yebin crosses her arms over the table, “Let’s say this guy is actually after you, Jung, and they’re going to use [Y/N] against you.”
“If that’s the case,” He grabs a grape and twiddles it between his fingers. “then I’ll deal with it accordingly.”
You silently watch in shock as Jaehyun slowly digs his thumbnail into the little fruit’s flesh, drawing out the sweet juice.
“If someone has a problem with me, then take it out on me. I’m not going to forgive anyone who lays a hand on [Y/N].” He cuts the grape all the way through, popping one half into his mouth. “It’s petty to drag people who aren’t involved into situations they’re not a part of or don’t even belong to.”
It was five in the morning when you woke up with a horrible headache. Last night — well, a couple hours ago — you made the horrible decision to drink 3 bottles of wine with the girls and switch to whiskey when neither of you could stand up to grab a new bottle of Schiava in the fridge. You begrudgingly rolled off the bed, noting Jaehyun wasn’t beside you. You’re not even sure if he got into bed… you don’t even know how you got to bed.
Your mouth was dry like sandpaper, just begging for some water so you trudged your way out to the kitchen. You peered into the guest room, spying Minkyung and Yebin on each of the twin beds, recalling how they claimed each one and banished the boys on the couch. Walking out of the hallway, you silently laugh at Johnny draped across one of the armchairs while Ten and Doyoung comfortably laid themselves on the L-shaped couch, all of them snoring in disharmony. The kitchen cub lights were on and you vaguely heard the sound of running water. Reaching your destination, you find Jaehyun putting away the last whiskey glass into the dishwasher before shutting it and wiping his hands on a towel. On the kitchen island, there were two glasses filled with water and two painkillers.
“Oh, you’re up.” Jaehyun turns around and looks surprised to see you.
“You did the dishes?”
“Well, I only meant to grab us some water and painkillers, but I thought I’d do them anyway.” He gestures to the glasses you’ve already spotted. He cheekily grins at you, a little lopsided that told you he was still drunk, “Don’t worry, I’m not going to ask for compensation.”
You giggled, almost like a schoolgirl, when his dimples appeared. You drink one of the glasses, gulping down half of it before letting out a satisfied sigh when your thirst is finally quenched. “Are we getting too old to get drunk like this?”
“Absolutely not.” Jaehyun tears one of the painkillers and tosses it into his mouth, “We’re in our mid-20’s, what are you talking about?”
“I don’t know, maybe I’m still drunk.” You swallowed down the other pill and chased it with water, “If that thing Minkyung wants — if we all had children and they become best friends — we gotta let them drink when they want, alright? Not like, at 14 when they’re curious, but at like, barely legal age. That’s fine, right? As long as they’re at someone’s house — no clubs and whatnots. We’re gonna be cool parents.”
“Okay, [Y/N].” He pulled you into a hug and kissed your cheek, “Let them drink at a barely legal age; got it.”
“It’s better they learn from us than some strangers. Give them enough freedom so they wouldn’t become rebellious or estranged. Promise me you’ll take our children out on daddy dates.”
“I promise to take our children out to daddy dates.” He repeats, “So mommy can have a spa day to herself.”
“We’re going to spoil them just enough so they wouldn’t turn into entitled brats.” You mumbled into his chest, “Promise me you’re not going to force them into inheriting the family business, especially if they want to become something else.”
“I promise, baby.” He kisses your cheek again, “Little [Y/N] can be anything she wants to be.”
“Hey,” You tilt your head back to see his face, “What if we have a son first?”
“Then what would you name him?”
You moved your hands to cup his cheeks, “Well, I don’t want him to be Jaehyun Jr. or Jaehyun the second… but I still want to name him after you. So maybe something with Jae?”
“Jaebeom? Jaeho? Jaegyu?” He pauses, “Uh… Jaemin?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I’ll decide on it when I’m actually pregnant.”
Jaehyun ducks his head down and presses his lips against yours, “Okay.”
He leans forward again for another kiss, but you lightly push him away.
“Don’t be offended,” You swallowed, “But I want to throw up.”
“What? Then go to the bathroom!” He scolds in a playful manner before quickly escorting you to the toilet and holding your hair up for you.
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“I should hire you once I save enough to move.” Minkyung states, moving her sunglasses up as a makeshift headband to inspect the little succulents on display, “You would know how I’d like my home. Something along the lines of light gray, green accents, and—”
“—a splash of pink.” You finished for her, throwing her a smirk over your shoulder as you checked the price of the snake plant.
“See! You know me so well.” Her face drops, “Unless I’m that readable.”
“No, it’s because I lived with you for 4 years.” You laughed, moving over to compare the plants side by side, “Also, you didn’t have to come with me.”
You and Minkyung met up for brunch earlier that day. It was Friday, a week after everyone met up, the day Jaehyun leaves for Hong Kong, and the day before you were scheduled to go check out the possible wedding venues with her, Yebin, and your moms. When you mentioned you had to run an errand for work, she invited herself with you.
“Don’t be ridiculous! Not after what you and Jaehyun told us last week, as if I’d let you be alone in public places. I’ll be with you as long as I can.”
“I have bodyguards, Min.” You peer out the large window to see two men outside, dressed in casual clothes, but had ear pieces and shades on. You met the pair first thing on Monday morning and learned they were cousins. Hyunwoo was older than you by five years while Jooheon was older by two years. They were big and intimidating upon first impression, but they spoke softly and humbly towards you whenever you talked to them. They initially wore suits as their uniform, but after they accompanied you to visit Kyungwon at your old office and accumulated pointed stares, you asked for them to wear casual clothes instead and wait outside or in the car. They drove you around, opened doors for you, and either one would always survey the area before you even arrived. It felt a little too excessive, but in the end all of this was for your safety and Jaehyun’s peace of mind.
Minkyung follows your gaze and pouts, “Well, they’re outside as per your request, but who knows what could happen in here with you.”
“Hyunwoo already checked the place out before we arrived, otherwise Jooheon wouldn’t have let us step foot in here.” You returned your attention to the task at hand; choosing some indoor plants for Yuta’s apartment. Personally, you wanted the peace lilies, but the yellow streaks of the snake plant complemented Yuta’s apartment as a whole. You also had to choose the perfect pot to go with it. “I think it’s too tacky to go with a yellow pot, even if it’s muted. Which is better, black or white?”
“See? You would be standing here all day if I didn’t come with you.” Minkyung rolls her eyes, “I like the white one!”
“If I were to design your new apartment, I’d fill it with plants and call it a day.” You joked, calling for one of the sales attendants.
“And you know what? I wouldn’t be mad about it.” She picked up a small succulent in a lightbulb shaped glass container, “You should try gardening in your new house, [Y/N]! It could be your pregnancy hobby.”
“My what?”
“Like, the hobby you pick up because you’re pregnant. Some people try knitting, some paint, you can try gardening!”
You don’t get to answer back as the sales attendant you flagged down finally came to you and you pointed out which plants you wanted to buy. After it’s settled you and Minkyung follow her to the counter where you fill up some forms to have it delivered to Yuta’s apartment when it’s ready. When you finish, you look back at Minkyung who still had the succulent in her hands, “Are you going to buy that?”
“Yes!” She grins, “I’ve already named it as well!”
“You… name your plants?”
“This is Cadbury.”
“...after chocolates?”
She sighs, “If it dies, then I’ll never eat that brand ever again.”
You stare at her for a good minute, trying to figure out if she was joking or not as she steps forward to the cashier and asks for the succulent to be wrapped. “Have you lost one yet?”
While she fishes out her card from her purse, she offers you a sad pout, “Nutella.”
“Miss [L/N] [Y/N]?” You turn your head to a polite voice over the counter and return the smile, “Hello ma’am! We received an order for flowers to be picked up by you today.”
“Aw!” Minkyung coos, “Jaehyun got you flowers?”
“I…” You paused, releasing a sigh instead and looked back at the sales attendant, “Okay, then, thank you.”
The lady excuses herself to retrieve the flowers at the back of the store and Minkyung leans her head on yours.
“Oh, [Y/N], I wish I’d find someone as sweet as Jaehyun. Did he know you were going here today?”
“Yeah, I texted him before we went here. It’s just weird though, he’ll usually pick it up himself and surprise me back home.”
“Maybe he’s too busy? His flight is tonight, right?” Just then, her eyes practically sparkled as an idea popped in her head, “Let me and Yebs sleepover! I’ll come once he’s gone and it’ll be more efficient for us the next day since we’re leaving before lunch.”
“Sure, I’ll ask Yebin right now.” You take out your phone just as the lady returns with a small, brown clay pot with reddish flowers. It wasn’t what you were expecting; he usually gave you roses or peonies, occasionally sunflowers, in bouquets, but never potted plants. Nonetheless, it’s still from Jaehyun and you readily accept it from the lady. “Oh, thank you. What are these?”
“Begonias, ma’am. If I may, it’s quite peculiar your partner would give you these flowers.”
“Why is that?”
“Well, ma’am, they symbolize caution.”
“Caution?” You and Minkyung said in unison.
The lady waves her hands, “But don’t take it too literally, ma’am. Since they are from your partner, it could mean gratitude and giving thanks.”
Jaehyun is romantic, but you don’t think he’s sensible enough to search up flowers and their symbolisms before giving them to you. With the current situation of him leaving, it could mean he just wants you to be careful and be alert while he’s gone.
After checking out the plants for Yuta’s apartment and Minkyung’s little succulent, you tucked the flower pot in your arms and made your way outside where Jooheon opened the door for the two of you. You dropped Minkyung off at her apartment and Hyunwoo drove you back to yours, where you set the flowers on the living room table and proceeded to pack your weekend bag and Jaehyun’s weekend luggage.
Jaehyun came home earlier than usual as he had a flight at 9PM and you greeted him at the hallway opening with a kiss.
“Minkyung and Yebin are coming over after you leave. They’ll sleepover as well so we don’t have to wait for each other tomorrow morning when we have to leave.” You informed him, watching him loosen his tie. “Are you hungry? I was about to make dinner.”
“I’m starving.” He sheepishly admits, prompting you to glare at him since it meant he had skipped lunch once more. “Work is piling up, baby.”
“That’s not an excuse.” You reprimanded, tiptoeing to kiss him once more, “But I understand. I’ll go get dinner ready. Go freshen up for your flight.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He chases after your lips for a longer kiss before pulling away.
As you moved around him to get to the kitchen, you quickly spun on your heels to face him again, “Oh, and thank you for the flowers. The lady said it was an odd choice.”
You gesture to the begonias on the coffee table and Jaehyun stops untying his tie.
“Oh.” He says after a pregnant pause, “Are they?”
“Yeah and I get it, you want me to be careful. Don’t worry, I will be.”
“Is that what they meant?” He stares at the flowers and moves his attention back to you as you nodded, “They must have mixed up my order then… I’ll replace them.”
“No, you don’t have to. They’re pretty, don’t you think? You don’t have to replace them, besides, the lady said they could also mean gratitude.”
He licks his lips in contemplation, “Alright then.”
You smile at him, giving him another kiss, “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” Jaehyun whispers back, watching you disappear into the kitchen.
He moves towards the coffee table, scrutinizing the potted red flowers under an intense glare. He wants to cancel his flight and stay with you; but this meeting had the whole Jung’s reputation on the line. There’s a horrible sick feeling in his gut and he could practically feel the familiar rush of anger in his veins. He would never give you flowers with such meanings — no, that’s not the problem — he never even ordered flowers for you today to begin with.
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a/n: yay new update 🎉 i’m aiming to update with part 10 in a week or two, meaning the old schedule of uploading on Fridays will be back (hopefully) 🤞🏻 please let me know what you think of this chapter here 🥰
next: part 10
~ buy me a peach?  but why?
232 notes · View notes
delldarling · 4 years
Text
missed chances | disios
a commission for the lovely @usernamekate94 !
merman x gender/body neutral reader 2k words sfw | mutual pining, mild resolved angst, kissing
It isn't the first time this has happened, but the look of fear on his face makes you think this might actually be the last. 
Honestly, you've been worried about this for ages - the touching, and the inevitable fallout. It's common lore here, repeated frequently in stories and rhyme: Touching a merperson is a grave offense. The stories and warnings have replayed so often enough in your head that sometimes you have nightmares about it. You can feel your fingers lacing with his, can see the fast fading smile on his face- As it is, it’s all you can do to not repeat the rhymes as soon as you catch a glimpse of Disios’ gleaming, iridescent tail, swishing through the water. It’s the entire reason the merpeople generally don't mix with humans, don't allow friendships to form. And it's… a good reason, truth be told.  
If your skin would sear and bubble at the slightest brush of another person, you would keep your distance from that poisonous material too. And that's why you’ve kept your distance from Disios for so long. You care too much to purposely, or carelessly, cause him any kind of pain. You just can't help but forget sometimes, especially when he rambles so sweetly about you, or about how much he enjoys your company.
It still hurts though, knowing you’ll never be able to touch him. Humans are tactile creatures, and touch starvation isn't a joke, despite how often people might make light of it. You care for Disios, so you want to touch, badly enough that it leaves an ache in your chest. You want to brush your fingers over his lovely sea-foam skin, stroke the webbed edge of his ears - kiss his plush mouth every-time he says your name in that rolling voice. You want him, desperately. 
You can't count how often you've laid on the sand next to him, looking up at the clouds or darkening sky, only to reach for his hand- and just barely stop yourself. And when he props himself up on his elbows, wet hair stuck in lovely spirals across his forehead or cheeks? Twice now, you’ve had to stop yourself from kissing him. Every single time there’s been a pause, a charge lingering in the air that makes you worry that you’ve overstepped. That Disios simply will never appear along this stretch of beach again, offended by your thoughtlessness.
You’re not sure what you would do, if he left like that. Wallow in the pain of a broken heart, perhaps? So you’ve been careful. So achingly careful that it’s almost painful whenever you forget, when you reach or lean towards him, only for his pupils to widen and his mouth to part like-
He must be scared, whenever you do it, whenever you reach for him, unthinking, driven by nothing but instinct. He’s never brought it up though, has always respectfully changed the subject once you retract your hand, once you give him some space. You’ve been utterly thankful for all of that, embarrassed as you were, until now.
All you can do is stare hollowly over his shoulder, mouth so close to his cheek that you can almost taste the small droplets of seawater still beading on his skin. He can probably feel your breath, and the horror of that thought makes you tense. Disios still hasn’t moved, you realize, and the last thing you want to do is make him push you away. Hesitantly, carefully, you move to give him some space. 
Disios waits for you to draw back, impatiently, you think, when you see that his cheeks have gone dark. They’re somewhere between a dark aqua blue and an angry looking purple, splotchy with emotion as he gears up for a lecture. You’re so sure that he’s going to be angry with you, that he’s going to tell you to leave, or that he’s the one who’ll be leaving, that you’re already clutching your face before he even begins speaking. The last thing you want to do is look him in the face. You don’t want him to see the frustrated tears springing to your eyes, or how red your eyes will get, not if- 
He huffs, agitated, and then strong webbed fingers curl around your wrists, nearly yanking you off balance as he exposes your face. Disios’ gills are almost shuddering with the force of his fast breathing, and- and he’s touching you. Your heart nearly stops.
You yank yourself out of his grip, heart speeding back up as you check over your skin, half expecting to find- No. You forget yourself, hands snapping out to grab at his own, to check him over for injury. His hands too, are completely and utterly whole. His nails are trimmed short, though you’re fairly sure you’ve seen them pointed before, and the webbing of his hands feels- Disios is alright. You freeze, ceasing your worried exploration to lift your eyes to his own. 
He looks- He looks heartbroken. 
And why shouldn’t he? You snatch your hands away from him, glad not to see any bubbling or marred flesh, but- You haven’t ever asked about it. Perhaps it’s not a poisoning you can see? You nearly choke on your speeding pulse, until he turns away from you, eyes drawn back the ocean. The distance between the two of you suddenly seems impossibly vast. 
“I have to ask,” Disios says quietly, frowning as he watches the slow surf. “Is there… A reason?”
You’re choking on all the words you want to say, but your mouth just won’t seem to open. How can you word things so that he’ll understand? You never meant offense, you never wanted to press or make him unhappy - you are happy with what the two of you have, you just-
“I’m so. I’m sorry,” you finally get out, both wanting to watch him, to sear the image of him into your brain, and wanting to hide your face again. Your eyes just feel so hot, and you know you’re going to spill over if he actually says any of what you fear. “I didn’t mean to do this. I wasn’t trying to-”
“Lead me on?” Disios asks, finally risking a glance your way. The frustrated, splotchy blush on his cheeks and throat has faded, leaving him looking strangely wan. “I… I know that,” he says sadly. “I mean, I know you’re frightened. You always seem to- And yet you keep coming back.” He opens his mouth, and then shuts it promptly, scrubbing a hand impatiently through his wet hair. His jaw and shoulders are tense, and he looks half a heartbeat away from diving back into the waves. His words finally seem to reach you through the haze of panic in your brain.
“Wait,” you blurt, reaching out and then freezing again, frowning at the frustrating urge. “Lead.. you? I’m frightened of you?”
“Yes,” he says, tone clipped. Instead of leaving you though, he makes a frustrated noise, and then whirls towards you, seizing your face with both hands. They’re cool, but not cold, and he’s so close, you’re fairly sure you could count his eyelashes. “Aren’t you? You pull away,” he says, tone soft and desperate. Mourning. “I thought you l- I’ve seen it. The way you would lean in to kiss me, the way you reach- And then you would look at me, and you would stop. I know that we’re different. I know that-”
“Disios,” you interrupt, hot tears finally spilling over your cheeks. You laugh, thought the sight of your tears is enough to have him releasing you, expression more fearful than ever. “No. I’m not scared of you! This whole time- there must be some sort of misunderstanding,” you say, sniffling, trying to quell the happiness in you long enough to explain. “Humans,” you start, glancing along the shore, like you might spy someone walking. You’re the only human around for miles though. “Humans have a story,” you explain, cautiously reaching for his trembling hands. He doesn’t shy away, doesn’t leave. “About our touch being.. Poisonous? To your people.”
“That isn’t true,” Disios says immediately, brows furrowing. “You believed that?” 
“Why wouldn’t I?” You ask, a real smile finally curling your lips. “I never asked. I thought it would be, I don’t know. Rude?”
Confusion and irritation and relief flicker over his features, almost too fast for you to follow. Disios’ shoulders slump, though his fingers curl tighter around your own. “The tale of Morlais,” he says, comprehension suddenly lighting his features. “Long ago, Morlais was caught by a sea captain. The captain claimed he loved him,” Disios says, thumb stroking over the pulse in your wrist. “But he wanted to keep Morlais captive. Two of the sailors though, had befriended Morlais, and they helped him spin a tale so he could escape. Human touch, Morlais claimed, was akin to poison. It burned. See where the touch of his sailors had scarred his skin?” Disios shakes his head and then laughs, tugging you into his arms and burying his face into the crook of your neck.
He breathes in deeply, humming when you slip your arms around him and- He fits. His hold on you, the way he leans. You don’t care about the dampness suddenly seeping into your shirt, or his hair sticking to your skin. 
“What.. What happened to Morlais then?” You can’t help asking, because if you don’t, you’re fairly sure you’re going to throw all caution to the wind.
“The captain was persuaded to release him,” Disios’ whispers against your neck, lips soft and warm against your skin. “Though we were told that Morlais found his sailors later, when they would no longer risk the captain’s ire.”
Disios tilts back his head, mouth skimming over the line of your jaw. You shiver, and he pauses, but doesn’t pull away. “You’re… Truly not frightened?” He whispers, and you wonder if he can feel how hard your heart is pounding against his chest. 
“Not of you,” you murmur, eyes falling closed when he presses his lips against your cheek, so very close to your mouth. “I’ve never been frightened of you. Of the way I- the way I feel. The way I want you?” The tip of his nose brushes against yours, and you know that if you opened your eyes, you could see your reflection in his. You keep them closed, lest you risk your courage. “Perhaps I was frightened of that,” you say, and then there’s no space left for words. 
Disios’ fingers curl around the back of your neck, thumbs tilting your jaw until you’re at the perfect angle to fit his mouth to yours, and then he kisses you. It’s warm and wet, and there is no hint whatsoever that Disios is in pain. In fact he sounds eager, kissing you repeatedly, lips brushing and pressing until your mouth is tingling with the pressure of them, until you’re both breathless and he stops, forehead leaning against yours. 
“I was frightened,” he says quietly, and you finally open your eyes, only to find his own closed. “Of you not wanting me. Of losing what little I had of you. Over a story,” he says with a laugh. He finally straightens, leaning back to look you in the eye, though he doesn’t take his hands from you. 
“It’s not my fault that I learned about the fib told to keep Morlais safe,” you say, gently poking him in the chest. Disios’ expression grows fonder.
“I’m not complaining,” he insists. “But I would very much like to make up for all the kisses I’ve missed because of it.”
Your heart thrills, utterly pleased with the words and you have to breathe deeply to keep from tearing up again. This is… Everything you wanted, and more. 
“Glad to hear it,” you say weakly, letting him reel you back into another kiss. It’s just as warm, just as all encompassing as before, but… Now you know there’ll be another.  
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ragnarachael · 4 years
Text
jukebox hero (stars in his eyes) — burnin’ for you
Pairing: Stephen Strange x ER Nurse!Reader
Word Count: 3,119
Series Summary: The five times you caught Stephen singing as he did work around the hospital and the one time he caught you.
Chapter Summary: You finally figure out what your feelings are for Stephen and Stephen realizes he needs to be more forward about his feelings.
Warnings: kinda... heated in the beginning? like,,, it’s a daydream sequence but almost smutty? i’m not sorry tbh
track one track two track three track four (you are here) track five
MASTERLIST !  FEEDBACK !
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The edge of the counter was starting to bite into your back, but you could care less as you felt Stephen’s lips against yours as you both held your bodies closer to each other almost as if you needed to huddle together for heat.
His hands were still respectfully at your waist while yours were located on his bare chest through his dark colored dress shirt.
“For christ’s sake, Stephen,” you huffed out once Stephen finally broke away from you to start pressing kisses to your jaw. “Touch me.”
It was almost like he was just waiting for your permission once his hands happily dug themselves into your back pockets and knead at handfuls of your ass in both hands.
Between Stephen’s lips that were now trailing their way down to suck and nip at the skin of your neck and his hands that were now starting to roam over your body, you were slowly turning into putty.
“S-Stephen,” you heaved in a soft high pitched whine thanks to another gentle bite to your pulse point, “we shouldn’t do this in here.”
You jumped closer—if it were even possible—into his touch when you felt a hand slip just under the hem of your shirt as he ignored your huffing.
You never thought it’d feel this intense with Stephen.
However, it wasn’t until Claire woke you up from your daydream by slamming a bottle of water on the counter of the nurses station.
Such a kind way to be woken up by friends.
“What the hell was that for?” You grumbled, pulling yourself from your makeshift pillow: your jacket (which you rested your crossed arms on top of).
Claire smiled smugly as she sat down next to you at the nurse’s station, her makeshift vending machine lunch in front of her.
“I just finished talking with Christine—”
You immediately cut her off with a groan, holding up your hand as you started to push yourself away from the desktop and grab your folded up jacket. “Nope. No. I don’t deserve a Temple Interrogation.”
“What? I didn’t even say anything yet!”
“I know that look you have on your face, Claire.” You let out a laugh from her look of sudden disbelief before pulling your jacket on over your scrubs, shuddering from the cold interior your jacket had.
“What look on my face?”
“I’m heading to the vending machine!” You announced over your shoulder as you started to leave the small nurses station, waving at a few other colleagues that were walking around the wing you were at before you were alone, walking down the hall.
Your head was still swimming with the residue from your dream.
It was a dream, yeah, but it just.... Felt so real.
Frankly, it made you feel a little crazy inside.
You had been having dreams revolving around Stephen since the almost kiss in the break room from a week ago now, from variations of dates to... to whatever the hell the dream you were having today was.
Okay it was it was a sexual engagement of some kind.
Sexual engagement of some kind that you wanted. Craved, perhaps. Since you were dreaming about it while on your technical lunch break at work.
Ever since you almost kissed Stephen Strange, it seemed to shock you so much that you couldn’t get him out of your mind.
You had to reassure yourself daily that it was a normal thing, to dream of your colleagues like that.
Right?
Okay. So maybe you don’t know what was morally right and what was wrong anymore.
You and Stephen haven’t seen each other in a week. It wasn’t due to Billy or anyone else you two worked with, work just started picking up for the two of you. You were scheduled more late night to morning shifts, and Stephen was getting let on to do more surgeries.
It did make you sad, weirdly. Not hearing Stephen humming his "song of the day", maybe make a little joke about it to get you to laugh.
Is this what crushing on people as an adult was like?
“I sound like a lovesick puppy already,” you mumbled aloud to yourself as you sidestepped around more of your co-workers, already patting both your jacket and scrubs pockets for your wallet.
It didn't take you too long to realize that you couldn’t even feel your wallet.
You took in a deep breath, mentally counting down to ten as you continued your trek to the machines regardless, hearing something—someone—singing.
Blue Öyster Cult’s Burnin’ For You in specifics.
Your heart definitely sped up, knowing exactly who it was in that moment. It even made you speed walk a little faster.
The next part was all a little blur. A few fellow ER Nurses came out of the break room that was close to the vending machines, rushing down the hall which resulted you in moving quickly to get out of their way.
That caused you to run into Stephen.
Literally.
Your hands landed on his biceps—which were impressive for a neurosurgeon doing residency—and you started to laugh out of the nervousness that you held for the situation.
Stephen was holding the small Snickers bar between his teeth as he chuckled with you.
“Hey, Y/N,” Stephen said, speaking around both the candy bar and his laughter as you started to actually regain your balance. After you were standing on your own, Stephen pulled the candy bar from his teeth to chew the bite he had. You craned your neck to look up at him with a smile.
“Hi, uh,” you started before quickly pulling away from his body, your hands already itching to rest back on his biceps. “Hi.”
He smiled back in return, swallowing his bite of Snicker before speaking.
“Are you about to go on break?”
“Technically, I’m already on it,” you reasoned casually, the both of you quickly moving closer to the wall as another doctor made his way down the hall.
Suddenly, the two of you were closer than before, since you could feel his body heat.
You could have sworn he was looking at your lips while you were talking.
“Lunch?”
Now it was your turn to scan his face as a brow rose in amusement.
“You’re eating a Snickers bar while you were singing Blue Öyster Cult, don’t you think lunch is out of the question?” You teased, crossing your arms over your chest. Stephen snorted and rolled his eyes dramatically.
“Lunch is always on my mind, L/N."
In the middle of a probably suggestive conversation during lunch, you got called to the ER.
As much as you love your job, time was always your enemy.
You huffed as you tapped around on your phone screen before getting up from your seat. “I’ll have to pay you back for lunch later, I’ve gotta dash—”
“Don’t worry about it! You’re fine,” Stephen said quickly as he stood up from his chair at the same time.
“Are you sure? I can dig up my wallet from my locker once I’m done in the OR, Stephen.”
“I’m positive,” he reassured, quickly grabbing your jacket and holding it out for you to put your arms in. “Trust me.”
You eyed him nervously before huffing, shoving your arms into the jacket as careful as you could before turning around to face Stephen with a smile.
The both of you leaned in almost as if you were about to share a kiss goodbye before Stephen stopped himself short, letting out an awkward laugh and squeezing you into a tight hug.
“Uh, good luck in there.”
“Thanks, Stephen. Don’t have too much fun without me, yeah?”
“I’ll try not to.”
You both stayed in that awkward hug for a moment before you pulled away, giving a smile and thumbs up before you rushed out of the cafeteria.
God, if this is how the rest of your interactions with Stephen were going to be, you may just combust.
You could always bite the bullet and tell him about how you’d very much like to try kissing him once or twice. Maybe a few times for good measure.
But that could wait. How long? Who knows. You don’t, that’s for certain.
Eventually you got to the right operating room you were needed in and started to wash your hands quickly to start operating with the rest of the ER team.
It was another car accident again that was thankfully not as detrimental as the last had been, which eased your anxiety immensely once you really got to work in the end. All the damages were minor apart from a few deep cuts and something lodged into another body part, but those were a breeze.
Thankfully.
It only took two hours before you were back at the sinks in the OR cleaning your hands for the third time in a row, chatting with a colleague, Jenna, as you moved from the sink to go run your hands under the air dryer.
“So, you and Stephen?”
“Me and Stephen?” You questioned back, raising a brow. “What do you mean?”
“What? Are you two not a thing?”
You froze halfway on your path to the air dryer, still trying to process the question.
You. Stephen. A thing.
God, you wish.
“I-I mean..”
“Your body language together scream “shut up and kiss me,” you know? It’s adorable, but some of us just want to shove you two somewhere so you can figure it out,” Jenna continued, still scrubbing her hands. Innocently, she looked over at you as you stayed still, trying to understand what the hell she was saying. “What? Was it something I said?”
That snapped you out of your thoughts before you moved quickly to the air dryer. “No. It’s not.. Not you, uh..”
You cleared your throat before you pressed the button to finally activate the dryer, running your hands through the stream of air quickly before moving away from the machine to shake your hands out.
“We’re not anything, I don’t think. Not really,” you replied eventually, speaking over the dryer.
Jenna seemed a little saddened by your reply, but you didn’t seem to notice as you tried your best to say goodbye to her kindly as you grabbed your jacket you had hung on a hook close by, getting back out onto the floor with your flurry of emotions following close behind.
Once you were back in your safety of the nurses station, you came to the conclusion that Jenna's conversation she was trying to have with you was the reason why you were subconsciously starting to avoid Stephen.
It's not like it wasn’t really all that hard, to be honest. He was probably on the other side of the hospital for all you knew.
You couldn't pinpoint why Jenna's words shook you so much. Maybe you were just overthinking it? If Stephen liked you back, you would know, wouldn't you? You don't need a colleague telling you that information.
You let out an irritated sigh from your seat behind the nurses station, letting your head fall into your hands.
You liked Stephen Strange. Like, liked liked.
Like as in: you'd happily get shoved into a broom closet and be forced to work out your differences like those stories you found one time after a night out with Claire and Christine.
Maybe that's why you're all shook up. It was the realization period. You knew it was coming. Hell, you really even planned on it, but you'd thought it would be at your apartment and not during work hours where Stephen could easily find you at any time.
You made sure the rest of your shift was filled with you being as busy as you could physically handle. From taking care of patients on the floor, to issuing medications when you were supposed to, to actually filing the paperwork you'd been avoiding, and even doing some out-patient paperwork that wasn't close to being due yet. Anything to let yourself have no freetime to sit and have your mind wander again.
Christine, who was taking over your shift, literally pulled you away from the desk around nine. Around 10:30, you were finally getting your things from your locker when you heard it again.
It being Stephen Strange and his singing.
Part of you wanted to get back out onto the hospital floors and insist on taking someone's shift just to avoid Stephen—which shocked you more than your realization period—while the other part of you just wanted to act normal.
Acting normal didn't sound too hard.
It felt like you were on auto pilot as you navigated through the locker room with ease, Stephen's singing only getting progressively louder before he had stopped, most likely hearing your footsteps as you stopped right in front of your locker, quickly twisting the small lock knob before it clicked open.
You heard Stephen call out your name and couldn't help but stop everything you were doing just so you could feel the way your heart soared when he said it.
"Yeah?"
"I thought you got off at eleven?"
You held back a snort as you carefully grabbed your bag from the top shelf of the locker, quickly grabbing your extra jacket you left in there on your last shift. "No, thank god. I thought you got off earlier?"
"I was supposed to be out of here at eight," Stephen said as he grunted from his side of the locker room before a zipping noise was heard. "I stayed back once I heard about the most recent ER patient."
You rose a brow as you scanned your locker one last time before shutting it carefully and spinning the lock's knob and tugging on the small handle to be sure it was locked before speaking. "Which one? We had a few today."
"The uh, car accident?"
"The one I was called into?" You asked slowly, carefully unzipping the compartment of your bag that held your car keys. There was a moment of silence before you saw Stephen's head pop out past the edge of lockers you were just behind.
"Yeah, that one. I was just worried—"
You cut Stephen off with a soft laugh, waving your hand that held your extra jacket. "I'm fine after the last time. Don't worry about it."
Stephen seemed a little skeptical about your reply before letting out a soft sigh and nodding in agreement, popping his head back behind the lockers. It was a matter of moments before you had your car keys in hand and heard Stephen's locker shut before he was insistent on walking you out into the parking garage to where you parked your car.
"So am I allowed to pay you back for lunch today?" You asked suddenly once the two of you were in sync with your steps, not even phased by the echo the parking garage caused. Stephen let out a dramatic sigh, walking ahead of you for a moment before turning to face you. "Easy, Drama Queen, you'll trip on your own feet if you keep walking backwards like that."
"First of all, no, I won't. And second of all, I told you that you don't need to pay me back."
"What if I'm insisting on paying you back?"
"Then I'm insisting you don't pay me back, Y/N," Stephen said simply, letting out a laugh as he buried his hands into his jacket pockets. You couldn't help but notice how his cheeks had a bit more color on them due to the rapid temperature change. You were quick to let out a sigh back in response before you were caught staring.
"You're so hard to work with, you know that?"
Stephen snorted before he finally turned to walk next to you like a normal human being, the both of you continuing to crack jokes as you finally made it to your car, slight awkward tension between the two of you due to the sudden silence that fell over the conversation.
"Why Burnin' For You?" You asked suddenly as you looked up at Stephen once you shoved the key into the handle's keyhole.
"What?"
"What made you chose to sing Blue Öyster Cult today?" You easily reiterated.
Stephen leaned against your car gently, letting out a soft hum as he seemed to be thinking about his reply.
"Well, uh.. there's this woman I.. like, I guess."
To say that your heart was in your throat right this instance would be an understatement.
You cleared your throat casually (you hoped), and leaned your side against the driver’s side door to be on the same level as him.
“Really?” You pressed, your voice hopefully not wavering in any way possible. Stephen didn’t seem to notice as he nodded, his eyes seeming to scan over your face.
“Really. She’s... She’s great. She gets my jokes—”
“You mean your stupid music jokes? I don’t think anyone gets those,” you teased smoothly. Even when you felt like your heart was being smashed on the pavement you could still make a joke.
Speaking of your heart, it twisted even more in pain as Stephen laughed fondly, nodding once more as he looked around the parking garage.
“I’ll have you know that she does. She’s brilliant at what she does. Both in and out of her field. I like to think that we’re on the same level intellectually.”
You let out an encouraging hum and nod to let him keep going, letting your hands start to fidget with the rest of the keys on your keychain to keep your mind off of the impending doom you felt coming up on you.
Stephen must have noticed some kind of change in your body language, since he eventually stopped talking about the mystery woman, and start asking questions about your day and how your time in the OR was.
Eventually, after answering his questions as enthusiastic as you could in the moment, you found yourself in your car. Finally driving out of the parking garage after saying your final goodbyes to Stephen. Your eyes were a bit misty by the time you had made your way out of the garage for sure.
Once your car was out of sight, Stephen let out a harsh sigh and let his hands rub both sides of his face. He had a huge inkling that he messed up his shot with you today. Big time. And now he’s going to try and find a way to fix it.
Stephen Strange was many, many things. Including a lovesick idiot who may just take your never ending song requests just so you could realize his feelings for you.
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ansgar-martinsson · 4 years
Text
The Best Intentions - Part 11
“And I’ll undress you a hundred – no,” he purred, “a thousand times more in my mind tonight, but it’s just the one time that will matter.” As the car rounded a corner, he leaned in, took her face between his thumb and forefinger and turned her to him, pressing his lips to the corner of her mouth. “You are absolutely radiant,” he murmured over her skin. “Those shoes create the most elegant lines of your legs.”
“Like what you see?” she mimicked his earlier boast. She nuzzled against the bristles of his beard.
“I liked them from the first moment I saw them.” He tipped back and dotted the tip of her nose with a warm, soft kiss.
“They’re er… they’re not mine,” she admitted.
“I know.” He brushed his lips over the arch of her cheekbone. “But it doesn’t matter to me whose they are. They could belong to one of the Kardashians for all I care.” He faced her, ghosting the backs of his fingers over the line of his kisses. “I don’t want you for your Louboutins. I would buy you a hundred pairs if you asked it of me.”
She smirked. “Well, that’s a bit much.”
“Okay,” he bobbled his head, “one or two pairs. Regardless,” he sighed. “I am gobsmacked by how beautiful you are. I mean, you stabbed at my heart before, but now… you slay me.”
“Thank y –,” she whispered, but before she could get the sentiment out, he had canted his head, cupped her cheek and kissed her. He kissed her deeply. So deeply that her words of gratitude whirlpooled into whimpers and moans. Her sharp breaths echoed in his mouth as his hand drew down her shoulder to rest upon the open skin of her neckline, just teasing the skin above her breast.
“Mmmm,” he hummed, “I’ve been waiting all day to do that again.”
“Yeah,” she licked her lips, “I wasn’t able to concentrate on work very much today.”
He chuckled. “Me neither. But I will have you know that we did manage to make a nice dent in the little theater cleanup.”
“I hate to think of what your bill is going to be when all is said and done.”
“Jorah has already submitted the information to the Opera House’s property insurer,” he said. “Got a claim started for you and everything. They’ll be sending us a check in two days for the initial clean up, and then they’re going to have an adjuster come out and look at the space tomorrow for the rest. Apparently,” he sat back, curled his fingers over and made as if to study his fingernails, “your board of directors made the wise decision to purchase a full replacement cost policy on the building.”
She frowned. “What does that mean?”
“It means,” he grinned pridefully, “that you will get your brand new little theater paid for, minus the deductible, of course, by Trygg-Hansa. And, from what I understand, my amazing insurance liaison has managed to convince the mighty insurers to throw in an extra bit for new lighting rails, a new light board and sound board, a new lift system, and a new catwalk… something about the moisture contributing to the decay of the metal and the electrical components?”
Joline stared at him, wide eyed, for a long moment.
“We will have plans drawn up within the next two weeks, ready to present to your board by the end of the month. I mean, it’s awful that the pipe broke; but if you really think about it, it is rather fortuitous, isn’t it?”
She kept staring.
“Well?” Ansgar perked. He shook his head and raised his brows in anticipation. “What do you think? Surprise!”
“I think,” she said slowly, her lips curling into an immense grin, “I could kiss you.”
He shrugged. “I’ll take it on account,” he said, indicating out the window. “It looks as if we’ve arrived.”
The driver pulled the car to the kerb and lowered the divider. “What time would you like me to return, Herr Martinsson?”
Ansgar leaned forward, resting his hand on the partition. “Take the rest of the night off, Tomas,” he said. “My building isn’t far from here, and it’s a beautiful night. I think we will walk.”
“Very well, sir,” Tomas nodded.
***
“Ansgar Martinsson. So good to see you again.”
“And you, Helene darling,” Ansgar replied. He extended his hand. “It’s very good to be back.”
Helen, a prim, professional-looking blonde dressed in a Saint Laurent suit took his offered hand, covering his with her other. “Yes, and we are so glad you’re back. And you must be Froken Lindberg,” Helene smiled warmly at Jolene and held out her hand. “I am Helene Soderberg, the manager. Ansgar has told me so very much about you. I am very happy to meet you, and I am certain that you will enjoy your experience tonight.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Froken Soderberg,” Joline replied, giving the other woman a slight bow. “But, what do you mean by… experience?”
Ansgar grinned as he wrapped his arm around Jolene’s waist. “I’ve brought you to Ekrastedt, darling,” he said. “This will not just be a meal, it will be an adventure.”
“Have you ever dined with us before, Froken Lindberg?” Helene asked.
Jolene let her eyes rove quickly around the inside of the restaurant. “No, never.”
Helene gestured them into the restaurant space. “Then, please follow me,” she said. “We’ve prepared your room for you.”
Joline frowned. “Room?”
“Herr Martinsson has his own private area in our establishment, reserved only for his use.”
“Oh, I’m sure you made good use of it, seating others in there whilst I was gone this past year, Helene.” Ansgar said.
Helene stopped and turned, her hand on the handle of a mullioned and stained glass French door. “No,” she shook her head, her eyes intent upon him, “we didn’t.” And with that she opened the door, and gestured inside.
The room was small and intimate, centered around a natural timber table for four set elegantly for two. Gleaming flatware and white linen napkins accompanied white plates lined with delicate gold. The walls were pine panel, decorated with tapestries and metal vines that cast long shadows in the low light from a dimmed chandelier above. One door off to the left provided access from the kitchens, and another to the right led to a private restroom.
“Please,” Helene said as she pulled out the chair for Jolene, “sit down and be welcome. Gustav will be in momentarily to guide your explorations of our wine selections, and then Nicklas will tell you the story of our menu for this evening.” She bowed respectfully before backing out of the door. “Enjoy. I will check in with you later.”
The door closed with a click behind dear Helene, dropping the two of them in a noticeable hush. A sly smile pulled at the corners of his lips when his eyes landed on Joline. “What is it?” Ansgar discovered his date assessing him.
She dropped the distinguishing gaze, displaying a coquettish smile. She shook her head bashfully, lifting her hands to the sanded and treated table. Her splayed hands stretched out in front of her, arms straight, the natural wood feeling sensual against her forearm. Goddamnit, even the lighting felt erotic. She could only attribute is to the company she kept. “You surprise me, Ansgar Martinsson.”
“How so?” He bit his lower lip enjoying… her. Just her. “The theatre? The repairs?”
“Well, yes, of course that, but that’s not what I meant.”
He watched her fingers play with the winged linen napkin. Her nails were unpainted, and the white semi-crescent tips were rounded. He only noticed because Faye’s nails had always been decorated bright red. He thought that maybe he preferred the natural look. “What did you mean?”
A coy grin appeared and she looked up to him from under her lashes. “This. Wine, dinner, private accommodations. I’m not sure what I expected, but this wasn’t it.”
Concern fell over him. “Are you disappointed? We can go elsewhere if you prefer.”
Joline blinked, taken aback that he’d misread her. “Oh, no… no, that’s—no, everything is fine. No! More than fine. More than that. Charming, impressive… and unexpected!”
“I’m relieved to know it, Joline.”
She shrugged one shoulder, “Helene said that you told her… about me?”
He smirked at the flattered tone. He took one of her outstretched hands and brought it to his lips to kiss her palm. “Make no mistake, Joline. I’m proud to have you with me and I would tell anyone willing to listen.”
Gustav entered with a gentle knock and an approval command from Ansgar. Joline tugged at her hand, but he held fast to it. She didn’t want the server to think he’d interrupted. The wine selection was vast and varied, but fell on deaf ears. Ansgar took control of the situation, having made up his mind. “I’ve heard enough, thank you,” he cut in before Gustav got too far in his practiced list. “Two glasses of Asti Cinzano. Chilled.”
Politely, Gustav bowed and exited obediently.
Joline raised her eyebrows in question at his choice.
Focused solely on her, Ansgar spoke slowly, “I want you. I will not have my sense dulled when I have you. You, Joline, will be just as sober to experience everything I do to you.”
Joline indulged in a long minute to catch her breath and lower her pulse after the intense spike in arousal. The man was determined to keep her wet and ready for him. Goddamnit. “Ansgar,” she swallowed her voice rough. She shifted in her seat, but some higher being threw her a small reprieve.
Nicklas entered with wine-laden Gustav to explain the experience of Ekrastedt, a six course meal, much of it prepared over
  an open fire. Most of it unheard by the patron who needed the lesson on it. She only had eyes for Ansgar, and she trusted him to order for both of them. She was open for anything and she could enjoy all of it.
When they were left alone again, Ansgar seized the opportunity to actually chat her before the amuse bouche was brought in. He kept his fingers dancing and shushing against hers, drugged by the silky soft skin on the top of her hand. “I would like to know more about you.”
“Me? There’s not much to tell.”
“Tell me about America… or how you got your job. Why Opera?”
Joline sat forward and took a tiny sip of her champagne. “After uni, I got an internship to a place in Florida.”
“A place in Florida?”
She squirmed in place, having been caught in her vague attempt to cover her slight embarrassment. “I don’t want to tell you.”
He chuckled, “Why don’t you want to tell me?”
“It’ll cock up my entire image. Taint it entirely.”
“That can’t be true.”
“You don’t know what it is yet!” she exclaimed, an uncontrollable laughter bubbling up to cover.
“Tell me and I will know what it is.”
She dipped her head, gave him the once over, and spilled. “It was just an internship. I was there for about twelve weeks.” She stated it, apologizing for it in the process.
Ansgar fell into her contagious laughter, smiling along with her. “I forgive you.”
“I worked at Disney World,” she admitted covering her eyes, elbow on the table. “It was this hideous production of Robin Hood, it was. Painful, Excruciating. When they say that it’s the happiest place on Earth, they’re fucking lying.”
“I- I can’t see you there.” He shook his head, trying to place Joline with her dark hair, black leathers and motorcycle and it didn’t jive.
“It was awful, and the actual stage show was only thirty minutes, because young kids have the attention span of a fly. We did eight of those fucking performances a day. Hell! Every thirty minutes felt like a year.”
“Where to next?”
Joline sat up a little straighter with the worst of it over. “A lottttttttttttttt of dinner theatres. Soooooooo many. They take on anyone desperate enough to take their shitty jobs. I stayed on that for quite some time. My ex—is that too weird?” She stopped herself and looked to him for approval, flicking her forefinger between them.
“Not at all. Please.”
She took another sip from her flute. “My ex hooked his ride to a governor down there. He was an activist… of sorts. He fell into it and never resurfaced. Last I knew, the governor is now a senator, and Steven is still working with him.”
Ansgar narrowed his eyes in thought, analyzing how this bit of information played into her. “Diplomacy. I can see that. You have to possess that when dealing with so many different departments in a theatre company.”
“I suppose that was it. But I moved onto Los Angeles via Chicago from there.”
“I had you figured for New York, surely…”
Joline slapped her hand on the table, not hard, but just to punctuate the point. “I tried. I didn’t get that job. I did assistant stage manager for the Lyric Opera… in Chicago. Then stage manager for the Los Angeles Opera.”
“How did you go from Robin Hood to opera?”
She laughed at the connection, and how incongruous it was. “I sat in on a masterclass with Salvatore Fisichella. The things he can do with his voice and body blew my mind. It’s a fascinating instrument to play, to master… I just love it. The voice alone can convey so much, and in opera specifically, it’s an art form.”
“Do you study the languages?”
She twisted her face in a moue of disapproval. “No, not at all. I don’t need it. I watch and listen.”
Their first dish arrived and Ansgar reluctantly let her hand go after all that time. The server came in long enough to leave the food and respect the privacy of the two diners.
Joline took the opportunity to let him know that she was still curious about him too. His wedding ring was safely in a small zipper pocket of her clutch. “I’d like to know… still… about your ex and why you went to America.”
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Chapter 22
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Title: Falling for the Holidays 
Pairing: Dean x Reader AU
Word Count: 1903
Summary: With October ending and the holidays underway, that only meant one thing for Dean Winchester. It meant returning to his childhood home and spending time with his family. It meant listening to his parents, especially his mom, ramble on and on about when he was going to find himself a nice girl, bring her home for the holidays, and then eventually get married and have children.  However, Dean wasn’t ready for that sort of commitment, so in order to get his family off his back, he comes up with an elaborate scheme! But like the saying goes, “sometimes lies become truths.”
Warnings: I don’t even know how to warn this chapter... maybe... “OH SHIT!” Can that be a warning? Or maybe it’s Angst? lol. You’ll see what I’m talking about.
A/N: I fucking LOVE how I didn’t have to mention a certain someone’s name for everyone to already know who it is. I mean, yeah, it’s obvious, but it makes me so happy to see the rage you all have. LOL. Maybe that makes me weird, but fuck it. You guys are AWESOME! Like… I couldn’t ask for a better crowd to be reading this fic. You guys crack me up, and it makes my heart sing! So thank you everyone for the comments and the feedbacks. You have no idea how much joy it gives me. I love you guys!! xx
“Ketch?” You called, not expecting to see him.
“What, you thought that you’d come and stalk Y/N, now?” Dean hissed.
“Stalk?” Sam jumped in, a little alarmed.
“What? No. I’m here to spend Christmas with my family. My twin brother, Alexander, lives around here,” Ketch defended, his British accent catching the Winchester’s interest.
“It’s true,” you validated. “He told me before that he’s got family here.”
Dean scoffed, not wanting to accept his excuse.
No one noticed Lisa cupping her searing cheek with her hands as she looked up at Ketch with surprise. Ketch met her gaze, questions flooding his eyes and face. “What’s going on here?” He asked.
“None of your damn business,” Dean hissed, taking your arm and moving you behind him as he took a step forwards. “I don’t care for what reasons you’re here, but you better stay away from Y/N, you understand me? That’s right, she told me about your little confession. News flash, she’s taken!” Dean grabbed your hand, lacing his fingers with your and presenting your connected hands to the English man.
“I see. Congratulations,” he forced a smile, “I guess, the best man won.” It was obvious to everyone that Ketch was annoyed, but Dean didn’t care. If he had to, he’d most likely fight Ketch to protect you. There was no doubt in your mind. You’ve witnessed Dean pummel perverts at bars that tried to lay a hand on you, or any of the other guys. You’ve seen Dean jump into fights to help his friends. Dean was a lover, but he was a fighter too… at least when he had to be.
“Who are you?” Sam blurted, curious to the mysterious stranger that his brother and his brother’s girlfriend seemed to know.
“Ah, I’m Ketch. I’m a friend of Y/N,” he answered.
“Well, it was nice to meet you Ketch, but we all have to get going,” John stepped in, uninterested with the newcomer. There were other things more important at the moment, and when the time comes, if needed, Ketch would be dealt with… later. “Lisa… if you don’t mind, we’ve still got questions to ask you, and I’m sure you’ve got some too. Why don’t you drop by at the house? We’ll sort everything out, and I promise—” John looked over at you with stern eyes that made you go stiff, “I promise that everyone will behave.” He turned back to Lisa, offering her a soft smile. “You don’t have to come by right now, but the sooner the better.”
Lisa nodded in response, her eyes reverting back to yours. Your body slumped after John scolded you for the first time, but when Lisa looked at you, you stood tall with your chin up high, letting her know that you weren’t in the slightest bit regretful of your actions. You were letting her know that you weren’t afraid and that you weren’t going to take any of her crap. Ever.
John held out his hand in front of Dean. “Keys,” he demanded. Dean gave his father a puzzled look, but did as he was told anyways, dropping them into his awaiting hand. “The two of you, get in the truck,” he ordered. “And we’ll see the rest of you at home,” he told Mary, Sam, and Jess.
In the truck, you were sandwiched between John and Dean. The silence was uncomfortable, and you felt like you were about to get an earful. “Dad—” Dean started but was instantly cut off.
“What happened back there?” John asked.
“Lisa was just—”
“No. I want to hear it from Y/N,” John cut Dean off again.
“Dad, c’mon—”
“Y/N?” John called your name.
You cowered at the sound of his voice. It was deep and held so much authority. “Uh… she just… she just wouldn’t tell the truth,” you started. “Sh-she was so adamant on making us believe that—that Ben was Dean’s son and… I just… I just snapped. And I’m sorry if I embarrassed you back there. It wasn’t my intention, but if I’m honest, I’d do it again,” you admitted, your voice coming out stronger and much more certain. Dean was actually surprised. “She was practically asking to get the truth smacked out of her—”
Suddenly, you and Dean jumped at the loud roaring that was John’s laughter. You and Dean stared at him wide-eyed and confused. “That’s my girl!” John boomed, taking a glance at you before ruffling your hair. “You’re definitely Winchester material.”
“What?” That was all you could say, completely dumbfounded. Dean didn’t even know what to say, just as stunned as you were.
“Have I told you the story of how Mary punched a girl that tried to hit on me?” John grinned fondly.
“No…” Dean replied.
“Well, this girl, I can’t remember her name, but she kept trying to hook up with me even though she knew I was taken. Mary would let it slide because she trusted me, and I only had eyes for my girl, so at one point, Mary was so fed up, that she walked right up to her and said, “have some dignity and back off my man,” and knocked her right in the nose. This was at our senior prom. That was the moment I knew your mom was the one for me.”
Yours and Dean’s jaw dropped. You didn’t know Mary could get violent like that. “Wow.” Dean muttered.
“Yeah, it was pretty great. I don’t condone violence, but that was the sexiest thing I ever saw,” John confessed.
“Now that you mention it, seeing Y/N riled up like that, was pretty hot,” Dean smirked as you smacked him on the chest with the back of your hand, the three of you laughing.
“Wait, so are you telling me that you’re not upset about what I did? I mean, violence is never the answer, but I just blacked out for a second, and suddenly my hand was on fire.”
“You’re right. Violence is never the answer, and you’ll definitely need to work on that, but I’m glad to know that my boy has a woman that is willing to go that far for him.” John smiled down at you, sincerity plastered all over it, and you couldn’t help the heat blooming in your face.
Dean’s arms wrapped around your shoulders, bringing you closer as he pressed his lips against your temple. “My girl,” he whispered before placing a kiss at your temple again.
Once everyone was home, the atmosphere was a little tense, knowing that Lisa could show up at any minute. Dean was sitting in his room, looking through the DNA tests over and over, and you figured he needed some time alone to think, so you headed down stairs to look for your phone. Maybe playing one of the many random game apps you had would ease your mind off the whole mess.
When you couldn’t find your bag anywhere, you realized that you probably forgot your it in the truck.
“Hey, Sweetie, where you headed?” Mary caught you, snagging the keys from the tray that held all the other keys.
“Oh, I think I left my bag in the truck,” you answered honestly.
“Okay. I’m about to bake some cookies if you want to help,” she beamed.
“Ooh! I’d love to! I’ll be quick!” You chirped, rushing out the door.
When you got to the truck, the seats were empty. Opening the door, you checked to see if it had fallen on the ground, but there was nothing. You frowned thinking about where was the last time you had it. The diner…
Running back into the house, you told Mary about your tiny dilemma and that you were going to back to the Diner to look for your bag. When she offered to accompany you, you respectfully declined, letting her know that it was going to be quick. But you did ask if you could borrow her car, knowing Dean would probably have a heart attack knowing any one else other than his dad or brother was driving his truck.
Mart was more than happy to let you borrow her car. You exchanged keys and ran back out. Sticking the key into Mary’s car, you drove off to the diner quickly, yet safely. Arriving at your destination, you gave a small wave to Jody as you entered. She was currently helping a customer.
“Sorry, I forgot my bag,” you whispered, even though you knew she wouldn’t be able to hear you, but luckily she knew how to read lips. Jody gave you a thumbs up and you smiled.
The booth you and the others were sitting in was empty and you found your bag on the ground with a few items scattered on the floor. While you were under the table picking up your things, you heard two voices talking, your attention caught at the mention of your name.
“This is your fault! Why is Y/N here?” It was Lisa’s voice…
“Hey, don’t put all the blame on me. You showed up unannounced, and if it wasn’t for that brat running off, maybe that kiss wouldn’t have happened,” an English accent replied. “So really, this was your fault. You came and interfered and only made things worse. You rekindled the flame, so to speak.”
Lisa scoffed in offense.
Your eyes widened and you felt your heartbeat pick up. What in the hell were you listening to right now?
“I wouldn’t have shown up if you had done your job right the first time. If you want out of this, then the deal was to get Y/N out of the picture!”
Get out of this? Get out of what? What was Ketch trying to get out of? What could Lisa possibly have on Ketch that they needed to have you and Dean apart?
“I will. It’s just going to take some time. Haven’t you heard, slow and steady wins the race?”
“Oh please. Don’t give me that bullshit. Ketch, he brought her home for Christmas! It’s too late for that. You already lost that race. Ben was our last chance at this.”
“Was? What do you mean, was?” Ketch questioned.
“Dean knows…” Lisa confessed.
“Knows? Knows what?”
“That Ben isn’t his. He was demanding me to tell him, and when I tried to make him believe that Ben was really his, that bitch slapped me!” Lisa grumbled.
You were chewing your bottom lip as you listened to their conversation.  
Ketch chuckled, soon followed by Lisa’s disapproval. “This isn’t funny Ketch. This is your problem too. If I don’t have Dean, then Ben is forever your responsibility. You’re going to have to continue paying child support. You’re his biological father! Ben is your son!”
Your jaw dropped and you felt your heart sink into your stomach. You thought you were going to be sick. That was the confession Dean wanted to know, the confession he was begging for, the answer everyone was so curious about, and here you were…
Somehow, you’ve managed to find out the truth…
“Hey, Y/N, found your bag alright?” Jody popped out of no where, smile on her face.
“U-uh, yeah. A few things fell out so I was just picking them up,” you rushed, quickly getting onto your feet.
When you stood, you noticed Ketch and Lisa standing in their booth, peeking over the divider, with shocked eyes.
Fuck.
Did you like it? Please reblog/share and leave some feedback. It gives me fuel and I love seeing what y’all have to say! It literally brings me great joy!
Say Something Nice Here!
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Hello, sire! If it's alright with you, may we have an Ace!Lotor x Pan!Reader? Lots of hand holding and a glowing sunset (Bonus if it is a sweet slow burn scenario ficlet)
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Do you?
*
Summary: Lotor finds safety with just a few important words from you.
★ Disclaimer: I do not ship Lotura and I respectfully ask that this story to not be tagged as Lotura. This is a Lotor x Reader/Self-Insert OC story which is in no way related to Allura at all. Please be respectful of my chosen pairing. ★
Warnings: NSFW-ish, manipulation, angst-ish, kissing.
Recommended Music: Island Night
*
In the beginning, neither of you had mentioned anything about yourselves. Nothing intimately personal, anyways. No “Hey, I am pan” or “You know I’m ace, right?” That sort of discussion never rose, not even during the cold mornings you two would hold hands under the covers. Not even during the moments you would cling to him during the “scary” parts of the movies. Not even when he asked you to be his mate those many months ago.
Though, considering the cushy life you two were living now, you would have to say you were glad to accept his odd courting ritual.
You missed the planet you were born on, yes, but it no longer existed thanks to Haggar’s death machine. Lotor tried his best to find a suitable home for you, somewhere you could feel safe and welcome, somewhere you could live without fear for yourself and others. Imagine his surprise when you outwardly told him that the only place you ever felt secure was in his strong arms.
Not by the warm sun setting over the ocean, nor by the swaying breeze whispering sweet nothings in your ear. Not even by the blanket he tossed over you to shield you from the chill of the oncoming night. No, laying on his broad chest, cramped in the hammock, and listening to his rumbling purrs was the safety you discovered.
And your only wish? That he felt safe, too. Upon glancing at his resting face, relaxed with what you swear is a small smile, you figured he was comfy enough next to you. Things were simply perfect. You didn’t doubt his dedication. There really weren’t many things you doubted about him at all, to be honest. Lotor was the love of your life.
“You are staring, dear.”
You smiled, “I know.”
“Then, as payment for your voyeuristic crimes, you must answer me this,” he blinked one eye open at you, now fully grinning, “What is on your mind, beloved?”
Lotor was the epitome of a content cat sleeping on a sunny windowsill. With one arm lazily resting on your hip and another propped behind his head as a makeshift pillow, you had to wonder if he knew how much you wanted to kiss him. You’ve done it before, plenty of times, and he even returned it with romantic vigor. But it never went beyond that.
“How about I show you instead?” you asked, already leaning in and planting your lips on his.
Salty. Just a bit from the ocean spray, but pliant and very welcoming. If a kiss was a drug, you would be addicted to his lips, his fangs, even his devilish tongue playfully twisting with yours as if beckoning you to dance with him. Deeper down the rabbit hole you went, gladly relishing in all he was giving you with this one simple gesture of his affections. A soft moan from you and his hands slid up the length of your body.
Then, you felt him press your hips harder against his pelvis. You grinded in response, the nerves in your body yearning for more than his mouth and hands. More than just laying here on top of him while kissing the setting sun away. Lotor’s thumb traced delicate circles on your waist, practiced and poise just enough to garner your needy attention. He knew what he was doing, he knew damn well.
He parted from you, just a bit, just enough so you could feel the humid breath between you two, “Do you want this?”
“Yes.” Who wouldn’t want sex on a beach? The first time between you two, of course the answer was yes.
There was a pause, a moment of silence on his end, and if you weren’t staring at him right now, you would’ve missed that blank look glazing over his eyes for a second. It was brief, but it was enough to pause your passionate desires from taking control of your body. However, you didn’t have time to ask about it as Lotor locked you into a kiss once more.
This…this time, it felt less. Less something. More automatic.
His eyes slid close, but yours remained opened. Your soft hand palmed up the warmth of his chest, passing over his peaked nipple, his collarbone, then tangled into his silky hair. It was easy for you to say you love him. You enjoyed the romance between you two, you always have when it came to relationships in your life. Just like now, it felt so, so good to love him. And to know he loved you back? All of it was real.
But this? Right here? It wasn’t - it didn’t feel real. He was calm, ready to please you, yet there was something in the back of your head raising a red flag.
You pulled away, he latched his lips onto the curve of your neck, then you asked, “Do you want this?”
And that was it. That was the question and the answer. He froze. Tensed up. How did that one sentence make him nervous? Make him pause all his ministrations that were meant to drown you in wild pleasure? You were no fool and you weren’t going to start being one where Lotor’s comfort was concerned. You’d be damn to place yourself over his needs. Emotional, physical, this was a relationship meant to be balanced. Supportive.
But typical Lotor nature, he was spectacularly skilled at hiding deep, personal thoughts. Both from you and from himself.
“What ever do you mean?”
“Do you want this?” you repeated, fingers gently combing through his hair, an instinctual way for you to calm him down.
“Yes, yes, I do. For you,” Lotor fingered the hem of your shirt, “Is that so bad?”
“I mean, do you want this…for yourself?”
And before he could turn his head away from your intense, yet imploring look, your other hand came to cup his angled cheek. Hold him there. Look at me, Lotor. Please. And he did. As much as he wanted to focus his attention on the vibrant glowing leaves above you, he couldn’t tear his gaze away. Not when you asked him honestly, purely, without any hidden agenda behind your words. There was so much to say, but he couldn’t bring himself to spill his entire thoughts out.
Make it quick, he thought. Just get it over with or hide again and again and again. Your choice.
“No. I do not.”
He should’ve asked if that bothered you. If that made you uncomfortable, but instead, he chose to remain silent and study your reaction. Or rather, your lack of reaction. Lotor couldn’t quite tell if that was a good or bad thing. Usually, being denied the pleasure of an addictive climax in any setting would frustrate many people, like many of his past lovers who doubted his honest answer while begging for a quick release.
But you’re a Galra. I thought sex was important to you?
I don’t get it. Is my body that repulsive?
It’s too late to play coy now. What kind of man would leave their lover high and dry?
Oh, you just need some encouragement. Let me take care of you.
Maybe you just need to fuck the right person.
Every time, he gave in. Every time, it was uncomfortable. And every time, he ended it the next day. He lost track of how many times he heard excuse after excuse when it came to copulating in bed. As if it was expected of him to be the perfect partner in every shape and form. He was great, he practiced ways to bring his lovers crashing down with the best orgasm of their life if only to make the night end faster. It sounded terrible in his head, but maybe that was why he always preferred to be the one in control when tangled under the sheets.
So the discomfort can be washed away the next morning. So he could have some semblance of control where he felt he had none.
He wouldn’t say he grew numb to the degrading comments when it came to his sexual prowess. Moreso, he just stopped caring the moment he found a piss-poor solution to his problem. It was like a knee-jerk reaction now. Once the kissing, the rubbing, the hot breaths, the palming, the moaning started, his mind would go through the steps like a practiced routine.
Not once did he apologize for his actions, as horrible as they were. He would not apologize for how he felt about sex. If his lovers didn’t understand, didn’t want to understand, then what did he owe them? It was awful, but he put himself here and he knew how to defend himself for his own safety. Maybe that was why his relationships never lasted long. Maybe he was too selfish.
Fuck, he hated this. This moment of vulnerability where he can decide how fast he wanted to shut the door. You didn’t deserve that, no one did. So, he tried to be gentle. Short answers with no further explanation. He’ll give you the best night of your life, but he won’t keep you here if you were going to want a round two. Or three.
“Then stay here with me, Lotor,” you whispered, surprising him by pulling him down to press your foreheads together, “Just like this.”
Just like this. The words echoed in his head. He remained silent, unsure of this weird, yet pleasantly euphoric feeling blooming in his chest and spreading throughout his body. Lotor couldn’t remember the last time he felt this, to be honest. Not love, he knew love. It was something more potent than that. More firmer than trust. More intimate than intimacy. Part of him screamed to jerk away, this wasn’t the right way it was supposed to go, but another part, the suppressed part, told him to relax.
You’re just not used to feeling happy again. Truly happy and safe.
“Your comfort is just as important as mine,” a kiss on his cheek and his arm tightened around you, “Will you be here in the morning?”
Will you? His eyes asked.
And your eyes responded in kind. As long as you want, Lotor. I’ll be here, right besides you. However long it takes to keep you safe.
There were no more words after that. Just peace, the soft beating of his heart, and his hand tangled with yours. Lotor paid close attention to your ring finger, too many thoughts going through his head from the ground-breaking revelation he had tonight, but one question prevailed all the rest. He stared up at the starry sky, counting his blessings and all the distant planets dusting the inky darkness.
I think I want to marry you.
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gone4neow · 5 years
Text
The New King ♔ dks
Chapter Nine
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- kyungsoo x reader, royalty AU, prince!kyungsoo
- warnings : swearing, mature content, arranged marriage, good looking men
- word count : 3,428
chapter eight or chapter ten or masterlist
♔ ♔ ♔ ♔ ♔
The princess found peace on the ride back to the northern kingdom. She had watched the trees roll by and morning transform into the afternoon, all while thinking about her father. He lived a simple life - as simple as a king’s life could get - and he had been content with that. Though he hadn’t had the best wife, he still loved her. He had a daughter that he was proud to call his own. He had gone through many obstacles in life, such as losing his firstborn to a war he had not wanted, but he survived. He had fought so hard to keep living for her and she would never forget that. She missed him, she always would, but she knew she could not grieve forever. It would destroy her.
Sehun helped the princess out of the carriage when they arrived back at his kingdom. His friends awaited his arrival, all smiling happily and waving enthusiastically. He approached them with a large smile of his own, giving each of them a handshake and a warm hello. The princess watched from afar - more specifically, she watched Kyungsoo from afar. His eyes were locked onto hers. She wasn’t sure what he was thinking because the stoic expression on his face offered no hints as to what his emotions were in that moment. She wondered if his heartbeat was racing like hers was.
“Ah, there’s our beautiful princess!” Baekhyun called out happily as he walked over to the woman and embraced her lovingly. She embraced him back, realizing that she had missed him more than she would have liked to admit.
“We prepared something for you,” the man revealed as he parted from her. Her lips parted in surprise at the revelation.
“For me?” She asked, her shock evident in her voice. He nodded quickly, letting his hand find hers. He pulled her closer to the group of boys and they all cheered for her, causing a faint rosy color spread across her cheeks. They followed after her and Baekhyun, chatting away about all that the prince had missed during his short departure. The princess couldn’t help but wonder what the boys had been up to while she was gone.
Baekhyun pulled her into the garden. It wasn’t the first time she had been here, but it certainly felt that way. The garden was break taking. Vibrant colors contrasted against deep greens and they were all brought together by the rich blue color of the stream flowing through the center. They came to a stop in front of a small piece of wood sticking from the ground. There were several types of flowers placed delicately underneath of it. The princess’s eyebrows furrowed as she read the engraving on the tiny structure. Her eyes became misty when she realized it was her father’s initials. She dropped to her knees and let her hand slip out of Baekhyun’s so that she could trace the lettering.
“We thought it would be hard to be so far away from your father’s grave so we wanted to give you something to visit here at your new home,” Baekhyun told her quietly. The princess stood back up to her full height and immediately let her arms wrap around the man for the second time that day. She told him ‘thank you’ quietly before she pulled away and let her arms wrap around the next man. She repeated this until she had thanked each man.
“You don’t know how much this means to me,” she told them quietly as she looked down at the grave they had put together. Jongdae reach over and swiped away a stray tear, sharing a sad smile with her when their eyes met. Getting past her father’s death was going to be difficult, but she now she knew had a whole family to go to for support.
Dinner was awkward that night. Perhaps it wouldn’t have been so bad if Sehun had kept glancing between the princess and his brother. Ever so often he would give a light tap to her shin with his feet and raise his eyebrows expectantly when her eyes would find his. He wasn’t even trying to be discreet about it. His brother was incredibly observant and had caught onto his brother’s silent messages throughout the entire dinner. Kyungsoo sent several questioning looks in the princess’s direction but she simply shook her head and scowled at Sehun.
Prince Sehun pulled her to the side when dinner was over. Kyungsoo watched with curious eyes as his brother whispered something to the princess. She replied by shoving his shoulder playfully. Sehun went to whisper something else, but the princess cut him off with a whisper of his own. Kyungsoo’s eyebrows furrowed as he watched his brother’s face grow pink with embarrassment. The princess left him in his flustered stare and caught Kyungsoo’s big eyes watching. A small smile formed on her face at the sight.
“Meet me at the stables,” she told him quietly as she walked by. He watched her leave and waited a moment before he walked in the direction she had went.
They found each other in the stables minutes later. The princess stood in the barn, petting Striker as one of the stable workers brushed his short coat of fur. Kyungsoo watched as she conversed with the worker with a welcoming smile on her face.
“Please, take the rest of the night off. I can take care of the rest,” Kyungsoo told the worker politely. The stable worker bowed respectfully before they turned and exited the barn. Kyungsoo didn’t give the princess a chance to speak before he had gathered her in his arms and crashed his lips against hers. The kiss was feverish, unlike any they had shared before. The princess pulled away when she felt Kyungsoo’s tongue glide across her lip. She looked up at him with wide eyes. She felt breathless.
“I missed you,” he spoke lowly as his hand came to rest against the side of her face. She felt his thumb trace along her skin, as if he were checking to make sure she was real. When she discovered that her tongue could not make out any words at that moment, she let her lips find his again. This time she didn’t shy away from his want to deepen the kiss. He kissed her deeply, cradling her face gently in his hands as he did so. Her hands slid up his stomach and across his chest before she fisted the fabric of his shirt in her small fists eagerly. There was no feeling in the world that would ever compare to this.
Kyungsoo was the one to pull away first this time. Small breaths fanned across her face as the man rested his forehead against hers.
“I brought you out here for a reason,” she told the man with a smile.
“That sounds promising,” he replied quickly. His voice was smooth, like the marble counters in the castle’s kitchen. His eyes had a mischievous glimmer in them tonight. Perhaps he truly felt the same way she did.
“I want to go to the place we found the box,” she announced. Kyungsoo laughed quietly.
“I’ll take you wherever you want to go,” he replied. He pulled away from her entirely, walking towards the riding equipment with quick footsteps. She watched him as the cool, summer air tickled at her exposed skin. He had Striker ready to go within a few minutes. He helped her onto the horse before he settled behind her. She almost turned around and kissed him again when he placed the reins in her hands.
The princess grew more nervous the more they neared the place she had dreamed about for the past week. When they arrived, she felt as if her heart were about to leap right out of her chest. Her fingers trembled slightly as she reach for Kyungsoo’s had to let him help her descend from Striker’s back. The sun was starting to set in the distance but neither of the two seemed to worry much about time tonight.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” The princess said with more urgency in her voice than she would have liked. The prince looked at her with concern now. She felt guilty for making him worry so much. She let her hands rest against his face in an attempt to assure him that she was okay. She took a deep breath before she spoke.
“Prince Sehun knows about us.” There were several emotions that flickered across the prince’s face in a matter of a few seconds.
“That explains dinner,” was all he managed to say. The princess couldn’t help but laugh at this.
“He’s not angry?” Kyungsoo asked with confusion written across his features. The princess shook her head quickly.
“He’s relieved. It turns out he’s involved with someone else, too,” she explained in one, excited breath. Slowly, a heart-shaped smile formed on Kyungsoo’s face. He laughed joyously at the news and let his hands pull the princess into his chest. He held her closely once she had wrapped her arms around his waist.
“This will make releasing the records easier. I suppose I shall tell him now,” Kyungsoo sighed. The princess felt his body relax.
“Kyungsoo, we won’t even have to release the records anymore. Sehun will work something out with us,” the princess said, her voice full of hope. The prince’s hold around the princess grew tighter at her words.
“It’s not that simple, Grace,” he told her quietly. She pulled away from him just enough to look up into those big, dark eyes of his.
“Why can’t it be?” She wondered.
“My parents... they’ve sat on a throne of lies this entire time. I’m afraid if I simply confront them about the matter they will attempt to keep me quiet,” Kyungsoo tried to explain. He seemed to struggle with his words as he spoke.
“You’re afraid they will try to kill you, so you’re going to start a rebellion,” The princess whispered in understanding. The prince nodded, confirming her thoughts.
“You should tell Sehun about the records. He deserves to know,” she told him.
“If you truly think I should, then I will,” he told her quietly, bringing a hand up to brush a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She smiled softly at him.
“I do,” she said. He smiled back at her.
“Then I will tell him first thing tomorrow.”
“I have something else I wanted to tell you tonight,” Grace announced. Kyungsoo’s eyebrows furrowed in curiosity at her words.
“Tell me immediately,” he pleaded sweetly.
“Ah, I’m too nervous to now,” she confessed shyly. Her cheeks grew a bright pink, a sight that was hidden by the dim lighting around them. Kyungsoo took her hand in his and placed a tender kiss against the soft skin.
“Don’t be. It’s just you and I out here. I would never think ill about anything that you say,” he assured her. Without being able to form the words she needed to, even with his assurance, she found herself placing her hands against his cheeks and pulling his lips against her own. Surprised, he hummed against the princess’s lips before he responded with a newfound urgency. The princess pulled the man closer to her, if even possible, and wrapped her arms around his neck loosely. The prince buried his hands in her hair, tugging ever so slightly. He was caught off guard by the sound that escaped the princess at his action. They parted a moment later, both breathless with slightly swollen lips.
“I love you,” The princess whispered in one quick, shaky breath.
“Say it again,” Kyungsoo pleaded. He leaned down and pressed his plump lips against the princess’s jaw, groaning when it began to move as she repeated herself at his request. The princess’s eyes fluttered closed as she felt the prince making his way down the naked skin of her neck with soft kisses.
“Where is this secret cove of yours?” He whispered into the evening air as he pulled away from her skin. She let her eyes open to find his and almost fell to her knees at how dark they had grown. What she didn’t know was he was trying his best to prevent falling to his own knees under the heat of her gaze.
“I’ll show you... when you make me your wife,” she whispered tauntingly into the evening air.
“You really want to marry me?” He asked.
“You ask as if it’s hard to believe,” She replied. When he didn’t response, she knew that she had hit the nail on the head. Kyungsoo didn’t feel worthy of her love. The very thought sent a sharp pain through the princess’s chest. She took the prince’s hand into her own and guided it to the center of her chest. Kyungsoo looked at her with questioning eyes, but didn’t question her.
“Do you feel my heartbeat?” She asked quietly. He did. He was sure if it weren’t for the sounds of the forest around him he could almost hear it. It raced wildly under his touch and the skin protecting it was so warm that he felt as if he was touching a flame.
“It happens every time I even think about you - about how kind, sweet, caring, strong you are or about how breathtaking your smile is and how I can’t wait until the next time I can see you. My heart doesn’t beat like this for anyone else. Only you,” she told him with a tender voice. He couldn’t keep the grin on his face from forming. He was sure his cheeks were the color of his mother’s flowers in the garden.
“I will make sure that never changes,” he assured her. She gave him a bright smile.
“Good,” she told him before their lips collided once again.
They returned to the castle later that night, after they shared stories about how their time apart had went. Kyungsoo listened to every word that slipped from the princess’s lips eagerly and she did the same. She wasn’t surprised to hear that he had returned to the village to meet with Xiumin again. She was surprised to learn that Yixing had informed the prince that he had received a mysterious package from her home village just hours before she discovered her father’s ill state. Perhaps Yixing had been the person of importance that her father had mentioned before dying.
When Kyungsoo entered his room, Sehun was sitting on his bed with a knowing smirk on his face. Kyungsoo sighed quietly and knew that his brother was about to make his night last a whole lot longer. He had looked forward to climbing into bed as soon as he returned to his chambers that night.
“Say one word and I’ll break your spine,” Kyungsoo told his brother casually, as if it was a conversation they had everyday. Sehun’s smile only blossomed into a grin at his brother’s word. Oh, he had it bad. Sehun could see the rosy color shining through the skin of his round cheeks. His brother’s hair was tossed in several directions, his clothes wrinkled, and his lips swollen. It didn’t take a genius to know he had just returned from a love fest.
“It should be me breaking your spine. You are fooling around with my fiancée, after all,” Sehun teased him. Kyungsoo glared at his brother as he began to remove his jacket. Fooling around? It was certainly more than that, but apparently his brother was convinced otherwise.
“I plan to make her my fiancée,” Kyungsoo told him. Sehun’s smile slowly fell and his eyebrows furrowed. He wasn’t the smartest man in the kingdom, but he was aware of what his brother would have to do to claim his fiancée as his own. Just how did his brother plan on becoming king? Sehun didn’t necessarily want to be king, but he had been preparing for such a role his entire life. To have his brother stand before him claiming he was going to steal his rightful place seemed unfair - perhaps even unsettling. Sehun didn’t like that.
“Just how do you plan to do that?” Sehun asked.
“I have something to show you. It’s something major, so if you don’t think you can handle it tonight-“
“Show me.”
Sehun watched as his brother kneeled on the floor of his room before he began to mess around with the floorboards he had just been standing on. Within a few minutes, Kyungsoo had pulled out a box from a hole in the floor and had placed it on the bed beside his brother. They did not speak to one another as the future king opened the box and began to rummage through it. He looked at it as if it were junk, refusing to read anything until Kyungsoo finally told him to read it or go to his own room for the night. With a scowl on his face, he read through the various pieces of parchment until he realized why his brother had wanted him to see this. His breathing became shaky and the tips of his fingers trembled. Was he angry? Shocked? Sick? Relieved? Perhaps he was all of the above, but he wasn’t sure what to say to summary all of them at once. So, he simply looked up at his big brother with wide eyes.
“I found that. Actually, the princess found it when we were out in the forest together one day... and I plan to make sure that the entire kingdom sees it,” Kyungsoo told his brother. He had never seen his brother this silent. Sehun always had something to say about anything and everything. He was concerned.
“How long ago was this?” Sehun asked quietly.
“Only a few days ago.”
“Why didn’t you tell me then?”
“I didn’t want to upset you.”
“I’m upset now.”
There was a silence after that. Kyungsoo regretted not coming to his brother sooner now. It was hard to watch Sehun stare down at the box with an expression that he could only describe as pain. Sure, Kyungsoo was practically neglected by their parents his whole life but Sehun found himself being the target of all their attention. He was basically raised in a boot camp disguised as a castle, trained to be a good little boy who would one day become king to deal with the mess they would leave behind. He had a limited amount of friends, little time to be a child, and absolutely no love from his parents. He was their puppet. Now he was staring down at a paper that told him their strings had been fake this entire time. He was a puppet for nothing.
“Do you want to be king, brother?” Sehun asked Kyungsoo with narrowed eyes that traveled from the black pits of the box to his brother’s black eyes. Kyungsoo was stiff, his shoulders tense and his face stoic. Did he want to be king?
“Do you?” Kyungsoo flipped the question back to him. Sehun stared at him for a moment and didn’t speak or move. Did he want to be king?
“No,” Sehun revealed in a breathless whisper. It was the truth. Night after night he had been restless. He would toss and turn in bed, trying to comfort himself from the worries he had about the future. He wasn’t fit to be a king no matter how hard his parents tried to force him to be. No amount of training could prepare him for that kind of responsibility. He wasn’t a follower, but he certainly wasn’t a leader either. He was just Sehun; a boy who lived day by day without planning tomorrow. He liked it that way. He wanted it to stay that way.
“Then you’ll help me with this?” Kyungsoo asked with hope in his big eyes. He sat down on the bed in front of Sehun, who had already began to nod slowly.
“Kyungsoo, you will be a good king,” his brother told him. It was a rarity to see Sehun speak in such a serious manner. Kyungsoo frowned, not entirely believing his words.
“Do you really believe that?” Kyungsoo asked, revealing his doubts - which was another rarity.
“Wholeheartedly. It’ll be easy with a queen like yours by your side,” his brother replied. He watched as a smile formed on Sehun’s face and couldn’t help but laugh quietly. This night felt like a dream.
“And don’t forget about your awesome little brother.”
a/n : hi to everyone who is still reading and future readers!! i know this chapter is kind of cheesy for those who aren’t total romance junkies, but these guys are kind of hopeless romantics so i could resist going full on cliche with it. i’m SORRY. how cute are the boys though? thanks for reading!!
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Pink + White
anonymous said: Hey lovie, I was wondering if i could get a Ben Imagine where the reader and him are early into their relationship and she has some narly scars on her thigh from some bad teen years and she sreally self conscious about it so she always keeps her legs covered but one day she forgets and Ben sees and asks her about it and is just really sweet and understanding and comforting, please and thank you xxx
TRIGGER WARNING: ALLUSIONS TO SELF HARM
(a/n: not writing smutty ben is... wild to me. anyways pls ignore layout i'm having to do this completely on mobile and it SUCKS. a short, sweet sunday instead of sinful sunday srry hehe)
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Your flat smelled of bacon and pancakes, aromatic and purely early-morning scented as you cleaned up your mess from breakfast. It was a Sunday, and you planned on going over to your boyfriend’s to surprise him once you’d gotten a chance to shower and get dressed – after all, it was your one month anniversary today. But, you were craving pancakes and bacon, so of course you had to make yourself some first. If you showed up to Ben’s and hadn’t eaten, he’d probably go full mother mode and try to make you a four course breakfast.
He was such a doting boy, so concerned with your well-being, and he was always constantly checking in on you and making sure you were feeling healthy, loved, and appreciated. Maybe it was in his nature, or maybe he was just making the extra effort to be a good boyfriend, but in any circumstance, you appreciated it through and through.
Sitting the last of your dishes in the drying rack to the left of your sink, you wiped your hands off on the dishtowel before stretching and resolving to head to the shower now. As you were headed down the short hallway to the bathroom, however, your doorbell rang.
“Who in the hell?” you murmured, tugging down your pajama shorts so they covered more leg subconsciously as you walked to the door. When you swung it open, you were greeted by a slightly sleepy, but very smiley Ben. He was holding a bouquet of flowers in one hand, and you couldn’t help but smile widely and blush at the sight of him. “Ben, I didn’t know you were on your way over!“
“Happy one month!” he replied cheerily, holding out the flowers as he stepped over the threshold into your flat, kissing you respectfully on the corner of the lips before shutting the door behind him. “Sorry I just showed up out of the blue, I got antsy and couldn’t wait any longer.” You took the bouquet from him as he spoke, admiring them before smiling up at him and nearly falling over from the look of excitement on his face. “Do you like them?”
“Love them, Ben,” you replied, going up on your tiptoes to give him a quick, affectionate kiss, then turning to head to the kitchen to get a jar to set them in while you were out today. As Ben leaned against the doorway and watched, you filled the jar with water and hummed happily to yourself, so pleasantly surprised that you completely forgot you were still in pajama shorts.
Since you and Ben hadn’t really gone that far yet – although there had been some makeout sessions that had teetered dangerously on the edge – Ben hadn’t seen you in anything shorter than a knee length skirt. So, when you turned around to bring the vase back over to the kitchen table, Ben was stunned to see the irregularity of the skin on your thighs. He wasn’t appalled, per se, but he was mildly concerned as he ran his eyes over the scars that littered the area.
When you sat the jar on the table, Ben’s eyes snapped back up to yours, and he was relieved to find that you were blissfully unaware of the fact that he’d been staring. Sending you a soft and convincing smile, he held his arms out for you and you giggled as you walked right into them, letting him pull you into a tight hug.
“So what d’you want to do today?” you asked, resting your head on his chest as he swayed back and forth with you, despite the absence of music. Resting your hands on his back delicately, you kissed his chest as you did so, then closed your eyes and nuzzled your face right into where you’d just kissed.
“I was thinking that we could just be lazy for a while, then go out for lunch?” he murmured, kissing the top of your head. “M’kind of tired, honestly.”
You grinned at the slightly embarrassed tone he took on as he admitted that, but you decided that a few hours of resting and being turds on a log wouldn’t hurt. After all, it was spent with him, so it was no time wasted. “Your wish is my command.”
“Isn’t that was guys are supposed to say, stereotypically, of course?” he joked in a dimwitted tone, and you rolled your eyes playfully as you pulled away from the hug, tugging him out to the couch.
“Don’t force your gender roles on me.” Ben threw his head back and laughed as you plopped down on the couch, tugging him down with you.
“I’m just joking. It actually physically pained me to say that,” he chuckled, laying down on his side and wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you close so you were face to face with him. Your leg was propped up around his hip in a non-sexual way as you two began to talk, just rambling on and on about anything under the moon and not really getting much rest at all, despite your initial intentions. But suddenly, when you were talking about some fun high school memories, the conversation took a quick turn into something that made your stomach turn in seconds.
“I mean, I tried to be nice, but I think she really genuinely hated me. I’ve never had a teacher kick me out of class more,” he laughed, his hand resting on your hip and fingertips tracing circles into your skin as you listened, smiling softly.
“I’m sure she was just trying to make a better student out of you,” you countered, and Ben rolled his eyes as he laughed, shaking his head.
“If sending me to the hall for dropping a paper and picking it up makes me a better student, I should have been valedictorian.” A small giggle left your lips, and Ben’s lips curled into a grin as he slid his hand down your thigh. When his thumb grazed over one of the scars on your upper thigh, you could feel your blood run cold, and the look on your face must have said it all, because Ben’s smile disappeared from his face in an instant, his eyes dropping to his hand. “Y/N, I’m sorry,” he murmured, looking back up at you after a moment. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“S’ok,” you mumbled, your stomach doing flips as you tried not to cry in front of Ben. Even if it had been years, you were still ashamed of the scars that served as constant reminders you of who you were. You weren’t that same person anymore, but you still had issues seeing past the scars when they were right there, broadcasting to yourself and everyone that you hadn’t exactly had the best teen years. “You didn’t know.”
“I mean, if it isn’t too much to ask,” he replied softly, returning his hand to your hip as he watched you carefully, gauging your reaction, “I’d like to know. But I don’t have to, it’s up to you.”
As his hesitant, curious eyes scanned your face, you were quiet. This was a subject you didn’t know how to breach with him, and it took a lot of courage for you to clear your throat and reach down, taking his hand in yours. “I won’t go into specifics right now, because it’s a lot, but let’s just say I was a different person as a teen. I didn’t have the support I have now, and I didn’t have a wonderful boyfriend who cares about me more than I’d ever deserve.”
“You deserve even more than I can give you, silly,” he gently admonished, kissing your knuckles as you watched him. A sweet, mild smile came back on to his lips, and he squeezed your hand before leaning forward to kiss your forehead. “And I respect that. You can tell me whenever you’re ready. No hurry. Could be today, could be in 50 years, and I’d still adore you.”
“God, why are you so sweet? This is so unfair,” you murmured, laughing once before burying your face in his neck to hide the blush that was on your cheeks, as well as the tears that were threatening to make an appearance. But you managed to hold back the tears, instead pressing a soft kiss to his jaw before nuzzling his cheek. “What factory did they make you in? You’re one of those perfect boyfriend robots. I’ve been set up.”
Ben’s chest rumbled with a laugh as he pulled back to look at you, a fond look in his eyes as he scanned your face once again. “Nope, sorry, no factory or robot. You’re just stuck with regular, plain ol’ human Ben.”
“Stuck with? That’s a load of shit if I’ve ever heard one.” The tone of your voice was almost incredulous as you replied, making Ben laugh again before he squeezed your hand, then let go of it so he could crawl up off the couch and help you up.
“Let’s go get some lunch, yeah? Then you can see again how messy of an eater I am so you’ll believe I wasn’t factory-made.”
Taking his hand when he offered it, he pulled you up to your feet, then let go of your hand as he nodded over to the tiny outcrop just outside a sliding door in your living room that passed as a balcony. You took that as a sign that he was going to take a smoke break, and you nodded before heading down the hallway, but he stopped you after a second.
“Can I pick out your outfit?” he asked, sounding genuinely embarrassed to be asking such a question, but you only grinned, nodding quickly before heading off to the bathroom again.
When you were done with the shower, you wrapped your towel around your head, also wrapping one around yourself before tiptoeing into the bedroom. Ben was crouched down over two different outfits, still pondering when you came in, and the look on his face was almost hopeless as he tried to decide.
“So which one am I wearing, Mr. Fashion Designer?” you asked, looking between the two and marveling at his impressive ability to coordinate. The only catch was that the two pieces he’d picked out for the bottoms were both skirts, and you didn’t recognize one of them. The other, you knew went down to your knees, so it was no problem, but the other one looked like it had probably been gathering dust in the back of your closet for years – it made you wonder if you even fit into it anymore.
“I’ll let you choose, I’m stumped,” he grumbled, seeming upset at his inability to decide, and he stood up to step back and let you take a look at the two.
The skirt that you recognized was a plain black one, and he’d paired it with a striped red tee that had the sleeves rolled up. With it, he’d put a black beret that you barely wore, but it blended well with the theme, and you nodded in appreciation.
The second one was a shorter skirt, and it was a light pink tennis type, probably from years ago. He’d paired it with a simple white button up tee, and as you looked over it, he brought over a pair of white Converse that he’d dragged out of your shoebox. Looking up at him, you smiled softly and took the shoes from him, holding them to your chest as you nodded to the pink skirt. “I’ll wear that one.”
He looked beyond ecstatic that you picked the tennis skirt, and you knew why. As covert as he was trying to be, you knew the tennis skirt was definitely an attempt by him to take a step towards becoming comfortable with what you’d just discussed. It wasn’t too short, like the pajama shorts you’d just been wearing, but it was just long enough to barely reveal anything. So, it wasn’t making you go through baptism by fire. It was a baby step, and you felt your heart do a few flips at the thoughtfulness as Ben picked up the other outfit, putting it back where he’d found it before leaving you in your bedroom to get ready.
The faint smell of smoke left with him, and you stared down at the outfit, taking a deep breath. “Well,” you breathed out softly, picking it up and moving it to your bed as you started to get ready. “Here goes nothing.”
When you finally walked out to meet Ben in your lounge, the look on his face wasn’t anything less than the mushiest affection you’d ever seen. “Ready?” he asked, standing up from where he’d been watching videos on his phone. Nodding, you took one last glance at the flowers on the table, a knowing smile playing at the corners of your lips as you realized they matched the pink of your skirt.
“Ready.”
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bitchwhoreofastorm · 5 years
Text
He stared at the Nord, and the Nord stared back, without wavering. Unfortunately for the both of them Nerevar was stubborn and there was less chance of him wavering than there was that this stern guard would pack up and go back to his own damn Nation. So they stood there, the both of them, in front of the entrance to Mournhold's audience hall, on a cool autumn afternoon, and glared.
"You are so embarrassing," muttered Alandro Sul.
Nerevar didn’t reply. His Nordic opponent inclined his head slightly.
"If you get in a fight..." Sul began.
Nerevar shifted his weight to his other foot. The Nord mirrored the gesture.
"Fetcher." From the corner of his eye he saw Alandro Sul turn away. "I'm going--"
"Alandro Sul?" someone called from the doorway. "The Queen will see you now."
Nerevar smirked in triumph and inclined his head towards his Nordic opponent, who, to the outlander's credit, returned the nod respectfully. "You can be a real ass sometimes," Alandro Sul complained, as the two of them were lead through the halls of Mournhold Castle by a human armoured in wool and steel, "You act like a bull kagouti of two years with no mate."
"I have been single for a long time," Nerevar replied with a shrug, tugging at the edges of the gloves he wore.
"Don't need to know. Don't want to know." Sul stepped close to him, whispering now, "Don't touch your hands."
"Humans, Sul. It doesn't matter."
"The Queen isn't human."
"Hmm."
"The Queen of Mournhold!" their Nord escort declared, pushing open a wide door before them. "Indoril Amun-Shae, by the grace of His Eminence Jarl Chemua Roaring-Heart. Show respect, little elf."
And with that, Nerevar and Sul were ushered into the audience-hall. It was a wide, square room, with a high ceiling and raised platforms to either side; a Nord-style throne had been erected in the centre, facing a broad table covered in elaborate carvings.
In the Throne sat a woman slender and small. She was not old but she looked aged and diminished, her lined face betraying some great trial she'd undergone, her long auburn hair falling straight and limp down her narrow shoulders. She was dressed in fine Chimeri robes of silk, however, and a clearly Velothi crown sat upon her head. When Nerevar and Sul entered she sat up and narrowed her eyes, looking at them closely.
So this was what the mighty city of Mournhold had been reduced to. Nerevar walked to the head of the table and knelt, bowing his head. "Hai Mournia, my Queen. I am Nerevar Mora, lex canvasari."
This seemed to catch her interest. "So a Mora comes to me," said Amun-Shae, her voice soft and noble-accented. "And yet I was told to expect an Alandro."
"Sul is my shield-bearer. The name 'Mora' can attract undue attention, so I gave his instead of mine."
"What would you ask of me, Nerevar Mora?"
"You speak with the Nords on behalf of all Chimer. Your voice holds sway in Mournhold, this even I, a simple caravaner, know. So I would ask you to intercede on my behalf, and attain for me a writ of passage with the Jarl’s seal, and his blessing for I and my caravan to pass through Ustenpass into Riften.”
Amun-Shae was Mournim, of that ancient bloodline that claims Mournhold’s throne, but behind her lined and demure face Nerevar could see a spark of cleverness that would befit any Telvanni. “A strange request, Nerevar Mora. You seek merely a writ of passage? This could be given to you by the Dres, who keep Kragenmoor.”
“House Dres attaches slave-trains to caravans, and I won’t abide slavery,” Nerevar said with a shrug.
“A conscientious mercenary. What says your captain?”
“My story is long, my Queen, and I don’t want to bore you.”
“I like stories.” Amun-Shae sat back in her throne, clasping her hands in her lap.
So Nerevar spoke obediently: “Sul and I had a caravan fall into our laps. Mostly saltrice--”
“By the mechanations and grace of Azura, who loves us,” proclaimed Sul.
“... And by a gambling-debt owed to me. I bring swords to corner-clubs and merchants are by-and-large cowards.”
The faintest ghost of a smile crossed Amun-Shae’s face.
“The caravan came with delicacies from Black Marsh,” continued Nerevar. “Coffee and chocolate-beans, bananas and mangoes preserved in ice. My misfortunate friend thought to sell them here, but Sul and I are thinking that we will take them to Riften. Boats sail out of Riften, and we can sell to merchants who go to High Rock, whose prices will be better and ambitions higher.”
“I am--” began Sul, but with a jab to his side from Nerevar’s elbow, he corrected himself-- “We happen to know a seer. We have peered into the tides of prophecy and know our journey will be lucrative.”
“Interesting,” murmured Amun-Shae. “You know, of course, that Skyrim is enmeshed in civil war.”
“And Veloth is occupied,” Nerevar replied. “Yet the money flows like a river.”
“But the Crest of Mournhold, which you seek, may bring you trouble, should you meet the wrong person.”
“But this Jarl is new to his throne, and hasn’t yet declared for anyone.”
Amun-Shae nodded. “Very well. This can be arranged. It is customary for merchants to offer a cut of their proceeds to the Crest’s master, and this will be expected of you. The last Jarl levied forty percent.”
“May I approach, my Queen?”
Amun-Shae extended her hand, so Nerevar walked up to the throne and took it in both of his gloved ones. He knelt, then, and kissed the back of her hand, and held her fingers close to his mouth. “I seek the Jarl’s seal, yes,” he said, very softly, “But I love the Chimer in my heart and am loyal to them. So it pains me to think of the money I earn going to the Jarl’s pockets. It will, won’t it? Go to his personal coffers, instead of the city’s treasury?”
Amun-Shae’s fingers, long and bony-skeletal, curled into his. “You wear gloves,” she observed. “That is the mark of a man who is guilty of something.”
“I was thinking that you could give me the Jarl’s seal without his knowledge.”
“Show me your palms, Nerevar Mora.”
He could practically feel Alandro Sul’s stare burning into his back, but that gaze was pale compared to the cool glare of Amun-Shae above him. Nerevar pulled off one glove and, with a sigh, showed his palm to the Queen’s face.
He heard Amun-Shae laugh. “I see why you won’t speak to the Dres. Slave-fodder”
Nerevar felt a thumb rub over the brand seared into his palm. The brand of exile was old, by now, he’d sustained it when he was barely more than a boy, but at her touch a tingle of pain rose up through his wrist. “I am guilty of nothing,” he said, his voice taut with anger, and he pulled his hand away from her.
“It is bold of you to walk free in my city, exile.”
“Your city, my Queen? This is the Nord’s city! While their vile yoke rests on our shoulders I walk where I want.”
“Stand, Mora. Back to your place.”
Nerevar exhaled through his teeth, and stood, and returned to Alandro Sul’s side. Amun-Shae watched him with her bony hands clasped before her chest.
“If I understand what you’re asking of me…” Amun-Shae continued, speaking softly once more. “... I will refuse.”
“But, my Queen--”
“When you were a child, did you hear of ‘the brave little scrib?’ No? How old are you?”
Nerevar averted his gaze. “I was twenty when the Nords came. Does it matter?”
“The moral of the story,” said Amun-Shae, “Is that one ought not go looking for danger. And so I--”
At that moment there was a heavy slam as a side-door was swung open. To Amun-Shae’s side rushed what looked to Nerevar like one of the Shouts that guarded Mournhold; a surprisingly-slight figure clad in guard’s-armour and a wool tunic, an iron sword at his hip and his face concealed by an iron helm, though his long red hair spilled out from under it. But rather than march, as the Shouts did, this figure ran to Amun-Shae’s side. It caught Amun-Shae’s gaze immediately, and she sat up, beginning, “I have told you--”
The ‘Shout’ ripped off its helm, revealing the golden face of a Chimer girl-- a face she thrust close to the Queen’s ear, behind cupped hand. Nerevar heard the indistinct murmur of frantic whispering. Amun-Shae’s face creased into a deep frown.
“What do you mean?” the Queen asked. “Have you told him to stop?”
“Of course not,” said the girl aloud, stepping back.
“Why not?”
“He won’t listen to me! What am I meant to say?” The girl looked around, then leaned in again, whispering something else furtive.
Amun-Shae’s brow creased. “Well, then, you must not let him do that.”
“I can’t. He won’t listen.”
“Yes, he will. Be clever about it. You’re a charming girl, you have your wits as weapons.”
The girl, exasperated, glanced to the side-- her gaze landed on Nerevar only briefly, but her mouth creased into a deep frown, and Nerevar frowned back. He knew the gaze immediately: here was a true noble girl, like the House-daughters of his childhood village, the spoiled bitter girls who liked nothing and nobody. Her sour gaze didn’t remain on him, and passed him over as if he were dirt on the ground, returning to the Queen in its ire.
“Rok fent krii zu’u, monah!” she said coarsely. “Chimarvir fent ag, ahrk daar pruzah.”
“Fent nid. Stubborn girl! I’ll deal with him myself. Just go distract him, I’ll be there.”
The child bowed, donned her helm, and turned to leave, but the Queen grabbed her arm and pulled her back, and whispered something else in her ear. She frowned, jerked her arm away from the Queen, and without a word ran from the room.
Here Amun-Shae returned her attention to Nerevar, and he saw that a change had come over her, as if the weight of many years had settled suddenly in her face, which had lost whatever confidence was there before. “Approach me once more, Mora.”
Nerevar came before her again, and knelt at her feet, but stared curiously at her face. “Who was that?”
“I will give you the writ as you’ve requested it,” said Amun-Shae slowly.
“Thank you, my Queen--”
“You will travel to Windhelm, not Riften.” Amun-Shae’s voice was very soft, so that none but he could hear it. “You will go through Vvardenfell. You will stop by Kogoruhn. You will find there the Grandmaster of House Dagoth, whose name is Voryn Dagoth, and you will give him this.”
She reached beneath her robe, then, and extracted a small wooden box, sealed with wax, with a letter affixed to the top, and Nerevar noticed she’d moved closer to him so that the Shout at the door could not see what she handed over. The box was pressed into Nerevar’s hands, and he clasped it, bringing it to his chest and slipping it into his tunic, concealed between the thick fabric of his winter-clothes and his bare flesh. When she drew back it was safely hidden from view.
Nerevar glanced at the Shout, who watched them with interest, and then turned his gaze back to Amun-Shae. “A kiss for Grandmaster Dagoth, my Queen?”
He saw the Queen’s gaze follow his and a small smile curl upon her lips. “A kiss, Mora. Stand.”
Nerevar stood and, bowing, returned to Alandro Sul’s side. His back would have concealed the box from Sul’s gaze too, he realised, and currently his shield-bearer was gawking at him as if he really had just snogged the Queen of Mournhold. But Amun-Shae’s expression was inscrutable and the Shout on guard remained unaware.
A few moments of silence lapsed, with only the Queen’s gaze to fill it. Then the door swung open and the slight armoured figure ran to Amun-Shae’s side, thrust a sheet of paper into her chest, spat something in draconic, and turned heel to depart. Amun-Shae, to her credit, endured the rude audience without flinching or showing a hint of anger; she simply took the paper, smoothed it out on her lap, and looked it over.
“Your daughter,” Nerevar realised aloud. “Right?”
“Your writ,” Amun-Shae offered out the paper and Nerevar took it.
It was smooth parchment in two scripts: the top half was dragon-scratch, and the bottom Aldmeris in small, spiky handwriting, announcing the bearer of the paper as one who travelled with the patronage of the Court of Mournhold, and Jarl Chemua. In the centre of the page a coat-of-arms, in red ink, showing a disembodied heart with a sword run through it, dripping blood. Roaring-Heart, Nerevar mused, before shoving the ghastly paper into the pocket of his trousers. He bowed low. “Thank you, my Queen.”
“Savour that kiss,” said Amun-Shae. “Guard it with life and blood. A kiss, when placed where it needs to go, may change the world.”
“I will savour it,” Nerevar promised her, “And perhaps the world will change.”
“You are dismissed, Mora.”
Alandro Sul held his tongue until they were back outside in the courtyard, warmed by the thin autumn sunlight of Deshaan. Then and only then did he turn to Nerevar with horror, take a deep breath, and exclaim: “You kissed her?”
“She invited me to her chambers, in fact, but for the love of Azura I declined.” Nerevar gave Sul a firm pat on the shoulder, then leaned in and added, “When we’re out of Mournhold.” If the Shouts at the door found this suspicious, they give no indication of it.
***
Later, that afternoon, after they’d had their argument about going to Windhelm via Kogoruhn, after they’d debated to exhaustion the merits of keeping their word, after they’d purchased more ice for their goods and made the appropriate beseechments to Azura that the precious fruit would survive the extended journey, after they hitched their guars and readied their caravan and trundled through one of the eleven gates to make their slow way north; only then did Nerevar explain the details of his exchange with the Queen, and show Alandro Sul the box. They spent their few hours on the road speculating as to the meaning of it, making their judgements and conjectures about the state of Mournhold’s politics, and eventually delving into petty gossip, until the sun was low behind the jagged smoking mountains of Stonefalls in the distance..
They stopped to make camp by the side of the road, at a spring concealed behind some low trama. “I just don’t understand,” Alandro Sul said as Nerevar sparked a fire. “What the Nord-puppet would have delivered to a Dagoth.”
“Dagoth is the House of Healers,” pointed out Nerevar. “Perhaps it’s some remedy they’ve asked for.”
“From the Nords?”
“You never know.”
“I wish I knew,” complained Sul. The fire had been set, and while Sul put their dinner over it Nerevar sat by its side, lets outstretched to warm them against the flames. “It’s suspicious. She may be setting us up.”
Nerevar considered this, holding the box in both hands. It was a little bigger than his palm, made of rough wood, not expensive. When he raised it to his face he caught a faint whiff of an unpleasant odour.
“Ask Azura what’s in it, then.” Nerevar said.
Alandro Sul stared at him. “You’re joking.”
“No I’m not. You should ask Azura.”
Alandro Sul burst into laughter, and turned away, resuming the task of cooking dinner.
“What?” Nerevar sat forwards, frowning.
“You’re joking. Ask Azura what’s in the box? Good joke.”
“What’s so funny about it?”
“You know, that story? Azura and the Box?”
“I don’t know it.” Nerevar sat back with a huff, raising the box to his eyes. “Why does everyone expect me to have read tales as a child? I had better things to do.”
“Sure, you’re funny.”
“Give me that knife, Sul.”
Sul tossed a dagger at him, which he caught easily. “Wait,” said Alandro Sul as Nerevar sat up, “What are you doing?”
“I want to see what’s in the box,” Nerevar replied, carefully sliding the knife’s tip under the seal.
“What-- he’ll know you’ve opened it!”
“I’ll tell the Dagoths that the seal melted off while it was hidden in my shirt.”
“Nerevar! You stupid s’wit, you’re going to--”
But then Nerevar managed to pry off the seal without damaging it, and he gently prised open the lid off the box--
“Yech!”
“What is it?” asked Sul.
“It’s a hand.”
“Pardon?”
“It’s a hand! A severed hand.”
Nerevar held up the box to show Sul. It did indeed contain a severed hand, now purple and decaying, weeping foul fluid into its packing hay.
Alandro Sul turned pale and averted his eyes, pressing a hand to his mouth. “That’s revolting!”
“Isn’t it? No wonder it was sealed.”
“Why send a hand to House Dagoth?”
“I don’t know,” Nerevar laughed, then, and pressed the box closed, wincing at the stench of it which now filled the air. “I don’t know. I have no idea what’s going on.”
“Fetching mainlanders! They’re all soul-sick.”
“I wonder whose hand it is?”
“Who cares, Nerevar! We’re in trouble enough that you opened it. Put it away, you’ve already ruined dinner.” Sul was frowning, unhappy, and not just from the morbid discovery, Nerevar presumed; they’d seen corpses in worse states than this, even if not before dinner.
“I’ll have to ask whose it is,” said Nerevar. “Perhaps--”
“No!” Sul said quickly, “Do not ask. Do not get involved, Nerevar!”
“We’re already involved. We’re delivering it.”
“We shouldn’t. By the rose, Nerevar, this is bad news. We should throw it away, bury it, burn it…” Sul trailed off, chewing on his fingers, staring miserably into the fire.
Nerevar slipped the box back into his tunic, safe against his chest. “We promised the Queen we’d deliver it. I stick to my word, Sul.”
“No you don’t! That’s a lie. You just want to know what’s going on, politically speaking.”
“Hmm.”
Alandro Sul turned his back to Nerevar, slouching.
“Sul,” Nerevar said gently.
“Don’t get involved in Mournhold!” There was real misery in Sul’s voice. “I look into the future and I see blight. I see poisons. Poison promises, poison people. Mournhold is a quagmire, Nerevar, mark my words! Those drawn into its walls are poisoned and buried. This I see in prophecy. That city will be your doom!”
Nerevar, thoughtfully, pressed his hand to his chest, rubbing at the corner of the box. He was silent for several long moments, until Alandro Sul glanced back at him curiously.
“I am your seer,” said Alandro Sul, “You ought to--”
“Poison!” Nerevar sat up straight. “This is the hand of the Late Jarl, and the Queen wants it checked for poison.”
“Unbelievable!” Alandro Sul turned away again, grabbing his own hair. “You’re absolutely unbelievable.”
“I wonder who she thinks poisoned him? Maybe I ought to offer my services.”
“I hate you.”
“I meant my investigative services. Though, she is pretty.”
“I hate you.”
Laughing to himself, Nerevar lay on his back, looking up at the stars, a hand resting over the box in his tunic. “You ought to pay attention to politics, Sul. They could be useful one day.”
“I pay attention to poisons, but I don’t drink them. Don’t drink Mournhold’s poison.”
“Sul! Don’t be upset, this is just fantasy. You don’t need to worry about me. We’ll run this errand and be done with it all. We have no poisoned politics to fear, not even from the Nord-hand at my breast.”
Alandro Sul was oddly quiet at that, in the tense sort of way he was when he was reflecting on prophecies and Azura sang in his ear, but Nerevar closed his eyes and ignored it. He was, after all, only a canvasari, an exile and a rogue hauling goods to Windhelm, and though he played at the hem of politics his thoughts were mainly of the attractive Queen and the gold he might find in Windhelm, and nothing more. 
--
“Hai Mournia... Lex Canvasari” = Glory of Mournhold.. Guard of a Caravan
“Rok fent krii zu’u, monah! Chimarvir fent ag, ahrk daar pruzah.” = “He will kill me, mother! Chimarvir shall burn, and that is good.”
“Fent nid.” = “Shall not.”
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