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lazyjellyfish300 · 5 months

Text

DD pt 3 , part 1 of 2

Fem reader x Miguel O'Hara who is your Uber Driver

This art was commissioned for this chapter by the AMAZING artist @/ ejpuki on Instagram. Please go and support the original artist!! (Link takes you to the same artwork as the one above, just the original post)

TW: Minors DNI, suggestive content, alcohol , age gap (reader 26, Miguel 34)

Synopsis- fem reader drinks too much and the bartender calls a random Uber for her which happens to be Miguel O'Hara himself. Her friends suck and ditch her. There's a lot of tension on the ride home...

This is a longer one so I broke it into two posts. Enjoy!

🖤

Pt 1 , P2 , Pt 3 2, Part 4 , Part 5

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You stood in front of your standing mirror in your room, phone speakers scratching as it played your getting ready tunes. You were overstimulated and stressed out trying to choose an outfit for your first date with your hot Uber driver. You could feel yourself starting to sweat, the pins from the hot rollers in your hair digging into your scalp. You stopped to take a deep breath and fan yourself frantically with your hand, the last thing you needed was your makeup running also. You gave yourself 3 hours to get ready specifically because it was a 50/50 chance your eyelashes would actually stick this time, or the outfits would outfit the way you envisioned. Tonight was a good eyelash night luckily, so far...

You finally settled on a short, satin, ruched wrap navy dress with spaghetti straps with a small slit that ran up your right thigh. Once you took out the rollers and had your outfit ready to go, you did a 360 in the mirror, trying to make sure your ass looked good. You sprayed some Daisy Love by Marc Jacobs on your neck and chest. You made sure you got your purse with everything you might need: chapstick, gum, lip gloss, extra lash glue, wallet, key... you froze for a moment. It was only the first date, nothing too crazy is probably going to happen...you grabbed the Daisy Love perfume and gave a spray to your ankles for good measure.

-------Alchemax, Hudson Valley, NY--------

Miguel smiled triumphantly as he ripped off the Uber sticker from his windshield. He loosened his tie and set his briefcase in the backseat. He had a breakthrough at work today. He finally got promoted from his junior position as an associate geneticist to senior geneticist and head of a new project by his boss. It included a massive pay bump which meant no more need to supplement his income with Uber trips to make sure Gabi had everything she needed. He was finally going to be making the salary he suffered through 8 years of school for.

And to top it off, he had a promising date tonight with you: the beautiful tipsy passenger of his who he couldn't stop thinking about. He took a deep sigh and started the commute south towards Brooklyn. It was a 2 hour drive. He hoped he wouldn't keep you waiting outside too long.

-----

You stood in front of your apartment building, the wind chill causing your bare legs to break out in goosebumps. Your purple peacoat wasn't much help. Your teeth began to chatter and you tried to distract yourself by scrolling on Instagram. Reading the same 5 posts over and over, the cause of your distraction half being the nippy November air, the other half being your wracked nerves to see Miguel in person once again.

There was so much tension between you two, you wondered how you would possibly be able to handle it tonight and not be the awkwardest person alive. And to add to the nerves, this time you didn't have liquid courage to help you be more interesting and outgoing. You just hoped that he'd like you as much as you liked him.

You watched your breath come out in short little puffs as you waited, a sort of weird game you invented to distract from the agonizing temperature. Finally, Miguel's black Audi pulled up in front of you. Miguel got out of the driver's seat, car still running to get your door. The mere sight of him made you realize you might need a clean pair of panties. There he was: 6'9, those dreamy brown eyes, and his toe-curling deep ass voice as he said your name with his stupidly handsome smile. He was wearing fitted dark grey slacks, black dress shoes, with a navy button up with the sleeves rolled up halfway on his forearms. A mahogany colored belt accentuated his lean waist that you couldn't help but want to be wrapped around.

You felt your intestines do another back handspring when he put his hand gently on your waist to help you to the passenger side. You wobbled a bit like a newborn deer in your heels, suddenly being forced to move after being frozen in place waiting outside for him.

"I'm so sorry, I hope you weren't waiting long." Miguel said. He made sure you were in, then closed the door and jogged back to the driver's side. He pulled ahead to a stop sign and looked at you.

"You look beautiful tonight."

Thankful the car was dim, hiding your flushed expression, you smiled,

"Thank you, you look handsome too. And we're matching, see?"

You opened your peacoat, revealing your navy dress to match his shirt. Miguel looked over and good FUCK your thighs looked amazing. The way the dress hugged you in all the right places had him immediately envisioning what lay underneath. If your thighs and hips looked this good from the front then God knows how amazing the view of your ass must be.

We could just scrap this dinner reservation and head back to my place right now. Gabi's with her abuela and tio Gabe tonight so we could christen the surface of my new coffee table and I'll make you scream as loud as I need you to. I'll make you whatever pasta you want afterwards. It won't be as good as the Italian place we skipped out on tonight to go fuck instead, but it will be worth watching you eat it wearing one of my oversized shirts knowing I fucked you silly all night long.

Miguel played it cool. "Great minds think alike. How was your day?"

"It was okay, could have been better. Work killed me." you sighed.

"I'm sorry to hear that." Miguel said. "what do you do for work, if you don't mind my asking."

"I'm a secretary at a physician's office," you answer. "It's okay, I guess. I work with a bunch of older women and most of them are nice and we have each other's backs when it comes to some of the doctors who can be a pain to work with. But the patients can be something else. Don't get me wrong though, most of the time people are nice, especially the kids that come in and are super adorable."

Miguel smiles at this. "I can imagine people would be hard to deal with at a job like that. You like kids?"

You think for a moment. "I do, I mean, I'm not a parent or anything and have a hard time seeing myself as a parent, at least for a while though. But I do have a niece and a nephew that live in Toronto. My niece is 7 and my nephew is 3. They're so fun. I like being the fun aunt that can return them back to their parents after a bit."

Miguel chuckles. "I can understand that."

You notice his work parking pass hanging from his rear view mirror. "What's Al-chem-ix?"

"Al-chem-axe?" Miguel corrects. "It's my work."

"Oh, so you don't do just Uber?"

"No," he answers. I got promoted to a senior geneticist position finally, today actually. I was doing Uber as a side hustle because the pay alone in my old position wasn't enough to support Gabi and I. It was kind of a joke after going to school for so long, but I'm glad they're finally giving me a chance to prove myself."

A look of disbelief crosses over your face. "Umm that's kind of a big piece of information to leave out about yourself! So you're actually like a genius level scientist?"

"Genius? No. But I'm flattered by that," he laughs in his rich voice. God, that was so attractive. This man has the audacity to be tall, dark, handsome, smart and rich?!

You two pull up to a nice Italian restaurant called Michael's. As Miguel helps you out of the car he walks two paces behind on purpose. Yep, your ass looked amazing in that dress. Miguel inhaled sharply, trying to suppress his dirty thoughts.

The restaurant was busy, yet calm as the diners enjoyed hushed conversations with the sounds of cutlery clinking against porcelain dishes. It smelled amazing, like brick stone ovens and freshly baked bread. The restaurant was old-timey elegance and dimly lit as a Tony Bennett song played gently over the speakers. A tall man with a large belly and greased black hair with a gold chain and grey suit was the loudest in the room as he walked table to table, shaking hands with the patrons, clearly the owner. Yep, you knew the food was going to be good.

Miguel pulls out your chair like a gentleman. You two share some Focaccia and you giggle as you try to help Miguel clean off some olive oil that ran down his chin. You tell him some more about your older brother who lives in Toronto with his wife and two kids and your younger sister who lives in New Jersey with your mom. You tell him about your childhood and how you struggled to make friends and were often alone and how that's affected you today. You talk to him about your interests and movies you like and your ideal vacation.

He listens, smiling when you smile, and takes a sip of his ice water, not taking his eyes off yours and pausing to squeeze a lemon wedge into his glass, stirring it while nodding his head. You were even better than he thought. Your personality even when you're intoxicated is charming, but who you truly are which you're showing him tonight is someone he can see himself with. Someone who's humble and maybe a little shy, yet kind and passionate about the things they love and makes him laugh. He loves how your walls seem to come down for him when he can get you talking about something that interests you. You ordered the cacio e pepe and he ordered Chicken Carciofi. You try to resist the urge to let your eyeballs roll back in your head when you take a bite of the silky, creamy pasta. It was sublime.

"Tell me about yourself, Miguel." You smile, taking a sip of wine. Now, the wine was starting to make you a tad more talkative than before, but you were determined to not be shit faced or tipsy like last time.

The side of his mouth raises a little. He hesitated. He wasn't a fan of talking about himself. And he didn't like feeling vulnerable or opening up to people. But he felt he owed it to you since you were being so open with him tonight.

"Well..." He says softly. He sits up and leans a little closer to you across the table, resting his elbows on the wooden armrests of the chair. "I was born here, in New York. My mother's name is Conchata and my father's name is George. I have a younger brother named Gabriel who's 29 and lives in Manhattan with my mother. My parents separated a couple years ago."

"I'm sorry..." You say softly, your face softening as he tells his story.

"It's okay. When I was 26, I started dating a girl named Xina who I knew since we were kids. We...went through a lot together and I made a lot of mistakes. I was unfaithful. I'm not proud of it. But we had Gabi together. She moved upstate and found happiness with someone new. She sees Gabi a few times a month. The distance is rough but we do our best to make it work. "

You felt your heart sink when he mentioned his unfaithfulness, but tried to just listen to him without judging him too much. You couldn't help but be worried if he'd do something like that to you too.

Sensing your discomfort, he lays his hand on top of yours. Your heart skips a beat at his touch, and you notice how warm his hand is. His eyes bore into yours, searching you earnestly as though he's trying to figure out what caused the shift in your demeanor at recounting his past. "Is something I said making you uncomfortable?" His thumb begins to trace circles on the back of your hand.

"Mmm, well sort of,"you hesitate.

"Tell me, " he says calmly. "I want to give you any reassurance that I can "

"Well, you said you were unfaithful in the past with your ex? Was it...did it happen more than once and was it before or after Gabi was born?" You start cautiously.

Miguel nods. "I can understand why you're feeling that way. It happened once. And it happened before Gabi was born. We got back together when I found out she was pregnant."

He looks at you for your reaction. You nod, listening intently, but your stomach still feels in knots at the mention of other women and you can't help but feel the insecurities and green eyed monster rear its ugly head. "I guess I'm just scared of getting hurt." You admit quietly.

Miguel's eyes have an eager look in them as he takes both of your hands in his. "I know it sounds cliche, and I don't expect you to believe me right away or maybe even don't want to continue seeing me after this but, I really am not that person I once was. I learned a valuable lesson. My ex is an amazing woman and I hurt her badly. I learned that you need to communicate if you need more from your partner and not seek validation somewhere else like I did."

" Even though it didn't work out with us, I respect who she is and appreciate that she gave me Gabi. And I'm happy she's dating someone new. And anyone I'm with at this point, I wouldn't be with unless I see something in them. With you, I just felt close to you when you mentioned you had troubles with your dad when I was driving you home and...I just find you relatable and adorable. I think you're beautiful and I truly like you a lot and want to spend more time with you."

Your heart is jumping all over the place at his confession. His dark brown eyes, pools of the Earth drawing you in. This absolute Greek God of a man said he likes you and thinks you're beautiful. Who wouldn't fold at that? Fuck, this man is gonna ruin my life...

"I.. really like you too, Miguel." You're feeling a little bit more comforted at his words and appreciate the fact he's talking positively about his ex and acknowledges his part in their relationship dissolving. "I appreciate you being honest with me about the situation. Nobody's perfect and, that stuff happened a long time ago. If you learned from it and won't repeat it then..then I'd like to give this a shot. But I swear to God if you do, I'll cut your hair in your sleep," you jab light-heartedly, but are low-key serious.

Miguel's heart leaps in his stomach as well and breaks into a smile at your last sentence. He brings a hand to your face and cups it. "Understood. Thank you...you don't know how much I appreciate that." He stares into your eyes, then ever so subtly, they flicker down to your lips.

Oh God...

You feel as though an invisible magnetic force is pulling your heads together as Miguel's eyes are still locked on your lips and you can't help but stare at his too. Those kissable, full lips of his..

Then, the waiter breaks it.

"Can I get yous two anything else tonight? Dessert?"

Miguel is pulled out of the trance and gives your hand a squeeze. "Do you want something for dessert?"

"Oh umm..." You try to shake your head modestly. Miguel tilts his head.

"You sure? C'mon, I know you'd love dessert."

"The tiramisu did look really good.."

"We'll take an order of the tiramisu please." Miguel tells the waiter who gives a curt nod and speeds off to the kitchen.

You enjoy the scrumptious tiramisu and convince Miguel to take a bite as well, you burst into laughter when you see his eyes grow wide with disbelief after taking his first bite. "Damn, that's not bad at all..." He murmurs, the marscapone and cocoa powder adorning the corners of his mouth. You smile adoringly at him.

As you two leave the restaurant he wraps an arm around you and pulls you into his chest as you walk. You wrap an arm around his waist in response and look up at him. He towers over you and you feel yourself melting into him when he flashes a dazzling smile down at you. It just feels right being here with him. Already he makes you feel so safe and secure.

As you arrive back at your apartment he gets out and walks you to your door. You two share the longest embrace outside your door. Your arms wrapped around his waist and his wrapped around your shoulders with one hand cradling the back of your head as he rests his cheek on the top of your head.

"I should go..." He slowly starts to break the embrace.

"No, no please. Just a little longer." You tighten your arms around him. His hugs are amazing and his scent nearly knocks you off your feet. Is it sandalwood, vanilla, woodsy? Whatever it is, it's fucking delicious and you need a candle made out of it so you don't ever forget how divine this man smells. You also don't understand how a human can be so warm. Even at the end of November, this man is impenetrable to the cold.

Miguel chuckles and plants a kiss into your hair and keeps holding you as you wish. "you're so adorable, you know." He can't believe how trusting of him you are but knows that he has a lot at stake right now. He doesn't want to do anything to make you nervous or uncomfortable or violate your trust. Most women would never give him a chance like this given his past and current situation.

Finally, you two part. You feel your stomach drop in disappointment when he doesn't kiss your lips but rise up and nearly bubble past the surface when he presses his lips to your forehead. You go inside your apartment and screech into your pillow, kicking your feet.

Miguel takes the drive to Manhattan to pick up Gabi. He's gonna need another cold shower to get your mouth and hips off his mind again. But he couldn't help but give himself a pat on the back. He had you right where he wanted you and he couldn't help but feel giddy about where this could go with you. He's falling hard already and doesn't want to stop.

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Pt 3 2

@mysteris-things

#Spotify #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel atsv #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara #fanfic #across the spiderverse

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

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Prompt: Wei Wuxian has achieved time travel! He's gonna fix so many broken things. Unfortunately, WWX has miscalculated a teensy tiny variable and instead of arriving in his original 15yo body in Lotus Pier, he's crash landed in MXY's tiny 7~8yo body at Mo Manor. But no problem, he can fix this if he can just find his real body. (Meanwhile, Yunmeng Jiang's head disciple is acting the wrong kind of childish, aka, Mo Xuanyu is having the weirdest day of his young life.)

Switcheroo - ao3

Mo Xuanyu thought that this Wei Wuxian person whose body he’d stolen must have been a really interesting person, mostly because he’d been here for three days so far and nobody’d noticed the switch yet.

Possibly it had to do with the fact that Mo Xuanyu still wasn’t exactly sure how he’d stolen the body – he’d just gone to sleep in the shed, same as always, and then he’d woken up in the softest bed he’d ever encountered in his life…no, softer than even his dreams! He’d thought it over and concluded that he must have died from cold out in the shed, turned into a fierce ghost out of resentment, grown powerful (somehow), then stolen some rich young master’s body when they weren’t paying close enough attention and, once he’d possessed the body, promptly lost all his memory of being a ghost.

It seemed like the only logical course of events.

He was very sorry about it, though. Wei Wuxian seemed like a nice, if very unusual person.

The first day, Mo Xuanyu had barely even noticed the body-switch, being quite so enamored of the soft bed he was in – he’d refused to get out of bed at all, declaring that he was going to lie in and sleep for a century or more, and the people who’d come to the door to get him didn’t beat him or anything over it, but rather just laughed or rolled their eyes and then left him to it. Luckily, at the time, he’d just assumed he was dead or something and proceeded to ignore everything in favor of napping.

He only acknowledged that he was alive later in the afternoon, when his stomach started growling – it seemed like a very unlikely thing for a dead man’s stomach to do.

Mo Xuanyu had by that point figured out that he wasn’t himself anymore, which was fine since he didn’t much like himself; he’d also figured out, through looking himself over, that he was old now. At least fifteen or sixteen, which was twice the age he last remembered himself being. That was fine, too, though: being older meant that he was stronger and faster and would be better able to handle it when people wanted to beat him or something. Most importantly, though, it meant he was old enough to enter the kitchen on his own!

Mo Xuanyu already knew that he wasn’t allowed to eat at the main table, being only the bastard son of the younger daughter, and the cook back at home was a fierce woman who didn’t allow anyone under the age of ten into her kitchen; as a result, he had to wait for his mother to bring him back some food, and it was always cold and not quite enough. Now, though, since he was older, he figured he might as well try to go to the kitchen and fill his belly that way.

Luckily, while his current body’s house was much bigger than the Mo house, all houses were generally built along the same lines, so it wasn’t hard to find the kitchen. Everyone there laughed when he showed up, even though he’d tried to be very quiet and sneak in and then screwed it up by tripping over his own feet – it seemed like everyone thought he was doing it on purpose to be funny – and then the cooks gave him a meal of his own that was hot and fresh and wonderful.

He'd wolfed it down.

“Honestly, Wei Wuxian, you eat like a hungry ghost, you’d think the Jiang clan starves you,” one of them scolded him, but with a smile, and from that Mo Xuanyu learned that the rich young master was called Wei Wuxian and that he lived with the Jiang clan. The different surnames confused him a little, but he didn’t dare ask any questions about it, so he just stuffed his mouth and pretended that was the reason he couldn’t answer.

No one questioned it.

No one questioned it when he went wandering all around instead of doing whatever chores or duties he’d been assigned, either. Someone had actually seen him hovering by a door and asked him to bring back a pheasant when he returned, so out of lack of better options he’d headed outside to try to go find one.

He had a pretty good time walking around the forest, then remembered what he’d been asked and chased the pheasants for a while, without success . Fortunately, he then got lucky and stumbled over an old snare that had three pheasants caught inside, so he’d picked up the whole box and carted it back home.

“Three,” one of the boys in purple-blue marveled as he saw Mo Xuanyu walking towards the kitchen. “You know, people say that the birds around the Lotus Pier have gotten too smart to be caught easily, but look at our da-shixiong; he makes it look easy!”

From this, Mo Xuanyu could figure out that Wei Wuxian was (apparently!) part of a cultivator clan, apparently located at a place called the Lotus Pier, and that he was the oldest or at least head disciple, to boot. He knew all about cultivator clans from his mother, since apparently his father had been a sect leader, and that meant he knew enough to call the other boy ‘shidi’ as he passed, making the other boy beam happily.

It also meant that when he chanced a guess and called the young woman in a pretty pink dress who waved at him ��shijie’, she smiled and nodded, which meant to him that he’d done the right thing.

“I heard you slept even more of the morning away than usual,” she told him, but didn’t seem too upset about it. “I bet that means you’ll be skipping dinner and staying up all night, hmm?”

Mo Xuanyu had no intention of skipping dinner if it was anything like what the kitchens had given him earlier, actually, but while he was still trying to figure out a way to say that, she said, leaning in close to whisper, “It’s probably a good idea, anyway – Mother and Father are fighting again. Just go to the kitchens to grab something…I promise I’ll make it up to you with some soup tomorrow, pork ribs and lotus roots, your favorite. All right?”

“Shijie, you’re the best,” Mo Xuanyu said effusively, willing to die for her at once, and she laughed and tousled his hair.

“I am,” she said, looking happy. “And if my little A-Xian stays good and obedient, I may even feed him.”

She did, too, the next day when he finally tore himself out of the beautiful wonderful soft bed and went to go find her. She’d made him soup, just as he’d promised, and laughed and laughed for some reason: apparently, she interpreted him being quiet and not talking too much as his efforts to be ‘good and obedient’, which was apparently so out of the ordinary as to be a deliberate joke.

From this, Mo Xuanyu concluded that the young master he’d possessed, Wei Wuxian, was a jackass.

Well, perhaps that was a bit harsh. Arrogant and self-centered, talented and brave and probably brilliant, definitely charming and maybe even kind, but also spoiled and inclined to step on other people to get where he wanted to go, if Mo Xuanyu had to guess – why else would everyone constantly react as if him not being obnoxious was the world’s biggest stunt?

No one seemed to expect anything of him at all: he didn’t do any chores, and no one batted an eyelid; he didn’t go where he was told, and everyone just sighed…at one point the sect leader himself came and patted him on the head, scolding him in a joking tone that he hadn’t seen him leading any of the training the way he was supposed to – but when Mo Xuanyu quailed, he’d burst out laughing, telling ‘Wei Wuxian’ to stop pretending to be a scared little rabbit, that it was fine if he’d gotten distracted by some clever new invention or whatever, that someone else would handle it, that he should take as long as he needed.

Mo Xuanyu had pasted a great big smile on his face through force of effort and agreed cheerfully.

The sect leader had accepted it.

Probably a jackass, but clearly a beloved one, Mo Xuanyu thought to himself as he packed up clothing and a few small treasures that no one would miss, a little wistful. The scare of the whole encounter had put things in perspective – he wasn’t going to be able to keep up this sort of façade for long. In fact, he was shocked he’d managed it so long already; surely, no matter how many pranks this Wei Wuxian played, no matter how childishly he behaved, surely someone should’ve noticed that he was actually an eight-year-old masquerading as a sixteen-year-old?

Mo Xuanyu couldn’t decide whether it was sad that no one paid too much attention or something that this Wei Wuxian fellow had brought down on his own head by being so consistently annoying.

Either way, there was nothing for it – he was going to have to leave.

Now that part was really sad: he’d never in his life had such good food, or such a soft bed, or even so many people that just seemed plain old happy to see him as since he’d arrived in this place. But he wasn’t the one all those things were for; he was just a sad ghost possessing a person, and if he stayed, the cultivators would eventually figure out something was wrong and exorcise him.

Probably violently.

Mo Xuanyu probably deserved it, too, but despite that he wasn’t willing.

So he packed up what he could and headed out.

He got all the way to the gate before a new purple-clad disciple – about his age, if he had to guess, and holding a pack like he’d just come back from a trip, with a scowl on his face – called out for Wei Wuxian.

Mo Xuanyu waved a little, hoping that that would be enough.

For the first time, it wasn’t.

The boy’s face settled into an even deeper scowl.

“Hey, what’s wrong with you?” he demanded. “Wei Wuxian! You’re acting all weird – hey! Where are you going?”

Mo Xuanyu was running away, obviously. He wasn’t about to get tied up and exorcised, no thank you.

He didn’t think he’d make it, but it was still worth trying.

Sure enough, the purple-clad boy who was probably called Jiang Cheng, based on what everyone was calling out as they ran by, got tired of running and jumped on his sword, and there was no way Mo Xuanyu would be able to outrun a sword, not even if he tried as fast as he –

Someone picked him up.

It wasn’t Jiang Cheng.

Mo Xuanyu turned his head and stared.

It must be some sort of yao, he thought. Humans were definitely not that pretty.

“Lan Wangji!” Jiang Cheng howled. “What are you even doing in the Lotus Pier?! Put my shixiong down!”

The rescuer, Lan Wangji, frowned a little at Mo Xuanyu.

Mo Xuanyu didn’t know exactly what expression he ought to be making in return, and was a bit too dazed to even dare to guess. He’d just noticed that they were flying – flying! on a sword! – and he was clutching onto this Lan Wangji’s shoulders for dear life.

“You are not Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji said. His voice sounded very definitive.

“Uh,” Mo Xuanyu said. “Sorry? Please don’t drop me.”

“I will not. What is your name?”

“Mo Xuanyu,” Mo Xuanyu admitted, and Lan Wangji’s eyes widened as if that meant something to him – except it couldn’t, of course, because Mo Xuanyu was sure he’d never met anyone even remotely like this Lan Wangji fellow in his life. “I don’t remember taking his body. I’m sorry. Can you not exorcise me? I don’t want to die.”

Lan Wangji was silent for a long moment.

He was still flying very fast, and Jiang Cheng was still following, shouting out curses and demands that he stop, not that Lan Wangji was listening.

“There will be no exorcism,” he finally said, and Mo Xuanyu exhaled in relief. “We will, however, fix this.”

“…we?”

“Wei Ying and myself.”

Mo Xuanyu nodded. That sounded more likely than anyone relying on his participation.

“Where are we going?” he asked. Jiang Cheng was falling further and further behind.

“Mo Village.”

Mo Xuanyu tensed up at once.

“You will not be left there,” Lan Wangji clarified, and – how did he know that Mo Xuanyu didn’t want to be left there? “But we must collect Wei Ying, who I suspect is currently in your body.”

“In my…I’m still alive?”

Lan Wangji was quiet again, and then said, “Yes. And you will remain so.”

That was reassuring, mostly.

“Okay,” Mo Xuanyu said, and found that he mostly felt relieved. He’d be very happy to have his normal body back again, if possible, especially if he didn’t have to stay in Mo Village…“Wait, if I don’t have to stay there, where will I go? I don’t have anywhere else to go, unless my father comes back for me. He's a sect leader –”

“He will not, and even if he did, you should not go with him. Once Wei Ying returns to his body, you will be able to stay at the Lotus Pier. If you do not wish to stay there, I will bring you back to the Cloud Recesses – that is my home – instead.”

“Oh,” Mo Xuanyu said, feeling bewildered. That was an awfully nice offer, even if Lan Wangji was feeling guilty about Wei Wuxian stealing his body by accident – which seemed like what had happened here rather than Mo Xuanyu being the one who did the stealing. Maybe he should go with Lan Wangji instead, he seemed much more responsible than Wei Wuxian was, rushing over to rescue him and explain things instead of throwing him into a body and leaving him all alone in a strange place. But on the other hand… “Is the Cloud Recesses…I mean…no offense, but…does it have…”

“Yes?”

“Does it have soft beds, too? And – and hot food?”

Mo Xuanyu didn’t need much, not really. He looked eagerly at Lan Wangji, who had an odd expression on his face briefly before wiping it back to neutral and nodding in confirmation.

“Okay,” Mo Xuanyu said, and curled up in Lan Wangji’s arms. “Then I’ll stay with you. You can take care of me.”

“I will,” Lan Wangji said, sounding strangely serious. “In return for the gift you last gave me – I will.”

#mdzs #mo xuanyu #jiang cheng #lan wangji #my fic #my fics #switcheroo

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michiieewrites · 3 years

Text

Soft!Alpha!Bakugou defending his Omega (headcanons)

A/N: Beloved Anon, I dearly hope that this will help soothe the painfull events that are happening between you and your friend. I think we all need a soft, protective and explosive Alpha every once in a while.

Please forgive me for any spelling/grammar errors I made. My eyes aren’t fully healthy right now and I’’m still under treatment to find out what is wrong with them. So please forgive me, for both writing and reading have become very difficult for me to do.

Enjoy!!

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* Your 'friend' must have a death wish * It started off slowly, the remarks about your figure, your second gender, mocking your job as a barista * Last week Bakugou came home, hoping to find his sweet smelling Omega already eating their dinner * Instead his nose picked up on a hint of a sour smell in your scent * "Oi, you okay, (Y/N)?" * You tell him about the behaviour of your friend towards you whilst also reassuring Bakugou that everything would be okay again once you talked to your friend * Now while Bakugou is very protective of his mate, he also respects you and trusts you to stand up for yourself * He's convinced that if you're capable of handling his ass, you're capable of everything * But if there's one thing Bakugou Katsuki is not, it's stupid * Try as you might, he can clearly see your mood dropping every day and your scent getting more sour, so bad he can almost taste it * And you try to be as strong as possible, trying to talk things over with your friend because you don't wanna lose your friendship * But there's only so much degradation one person can take * Ever since you stepped into the home you shared with your carmine eyed Alpha, you just broke down on the couch * You truly feel like you've lost someone you cared so deeply about and it hurts to feel like you're not worthy of being their friend * Miles away from you, a certain Alpha Pro Hero felt something inside him shift * His whole body on alert while his eyes try to find the source of this feeling * A villain attack? Nah, everything's quiet on the streets today * Before an hour had even passed he was able to understand this feeling * My Omega is hurting * (Listen here, Hawks may be fast and have big ass wings, but not even he can keep up with Dynamight in 'Protect Omega'- mode) * As soon as he bursts through the door, he found you curled up in a fetal position on the couch and he was ready to tear apart whatever caused your disstress * "Hé hé, the fuck is wrong? Did someone-" * "I can't take it anymore, Katsuki" * As soon as these words leave your mouth, Bakugou starts fearing the worst * Is this it? Were you leaving him? Surely, that must be it, nobody can be with such a hot headed Alpha like him for the rest of their life. Did you finally realise that he doesn't deserve you? Did you- * "They keep degrading me and I just can't take it anymore, Katsuki. I tried, I really did, but... i don't want someone who makes me feel worthless as a friend and I just- I just don't know anymore..." * Seeing you this heartbroken over that bastard of a friend tore him apart * One side wanted to hunt down your 'friend' and skin them alive before throwing them in a pit of salt * And one side wanted to wrap you in his arms and protect you from the rest of the world * The latter won * Tonight was about holding you close and wiping away the tears you cried * Softly telling you that he's so proud of calling you his Omega while tracing words of love on the skin of your back * His pheromones chasing away your dark thoughts and soothing your own distressed, rotten scent, slowly returning it to it's own roasted marshmellow smell * Not letting you go as the two of you shower together, washing your hair and massaging your scalp * Worshipping your body with acts of intimate love while mumbling words of praise * "Beautiful", "love your pure heart", "your scent is like air to me", "better than the world deserves", "my passionate Omega", "Keeper of my heart" * He will die before ever making you feel like you're anything less than the Godess he saw you as * Tonight was all about making his Omega feel wanted * Tomorrow however... * You stayed home (Bakugou's advice) to recover from your break down yesterday, while Bakugou went out on a little errand * Last thing you expected was for the doorbell to ring, smelling your Alpha on the other side of the door * And another scent, one that's downright terrified * As you opend the door, you found your ex-friend kneeling on your doorstep with a lookin of utter fear in their eyes * "What? Katsuki, what is (Y/F/N) doing here?" * He smirked as he looked down at your friend. "I believe you have something to tell her, don'tcha?" * Through all the sobbing and snot on their face you were able to make out the words 'sorry', 'you're not worthless', 'Omega's are my equal', 'I was a scumbag', 'save me from Satan', 'I beg for forgiveness' * You... didn't really know what to say besides telling them that what they did to you really hurt your feelings and your friendship is over * As they started to beg even more, Bakugou grabbed them by their scruff and told them to 'Fuck off, before he'll tear off their head for making HIS Omega cry' * Slamming the door close, Bakugou picked you up to start walking to your bedroom * His scent rolling over you like a warm blanket as you softly purr: "Thank you, Alpha. For making me feel safe again." * A feeling of pride swelling up in your mate for protecting and standing up for his Omega * He'll carry the world like Atlas for you if you asked him * He grins. "Anything for you, my mate. You think they got the message?" * "I think you personally put the fear of God himself in their heart." * "Good. That should fucking teach them not to come near my Omega ever again." * He may be the explosive Pro Hero and Alpha Dynamight, but he's left defenseless when it comes to you, his Omega and he'll do everything within his power to make you feel loved every single day of your shared life

Tagged: @candyflosstoxicity / @thots4daze / @sailor-manga / @dynamightslittlehotpocket / @yanderart

#bnha headcanons #michelle writes #bnha dynamight #bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugou #bakugou x reader #alpha bakugou #alpha bakugou x reader #bakugou headcanons #bnha omegaverse #bnha a/b/o #omega reader #soft bakugou #protective bakugou

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shewrites02 · 3 years

Text

Gone Too Long |Shikamaru x Reader|

Summary: Not having his partner around begins to toll on Shikamaru

Word count: 3k

Lady Tsunade was assigning weekly chores to all the Shinobi who had yet to be assigned a mission. Usually these tasks were reserved for Genin, but this week had been slow for the village. Many Chunin and Jonin were left task less aimlessly patrolling the village.

"Shikamaru, you'll assist Iruka at the Academy for the remainder of the week."

Shikamaru let out a long dreadful sigh before muttering "What a drag, that's so much work." Just above his breath.

Shikamaru complaining was not out of the ordinary, but him complaining in front of the Fifth Hokage was and everyone took notice. Lady Tsunade slowly looked up from her journal with her eyebrow slightly raised. She was offering Shikamaru a chance to apologize before she completely ripped into him like she often did with Naruto. But all he did was smack his lips and cross his arms against his chest.

"Forgive him Lady Tsunade, he gets like this whenever y/n is gone on a mission." Ino announced proudly as a devilish smile graced her lips.

The other ninjas futilely tried to suppress their laughter but soon the whole room erupted into a uncontrollable fit. Even Lady Tsunade's scowl had turned into a humorous smile. Shikamaru's face began to turn beat red as his fellow shinobi teased him.

"So that explains his nasty attitude this whole week. Me and Akamaru knew there was something up with you!" Kiba laughed after Akamaru barked, agreeing.

"I bet his attitude will change once he gets some... special attention" Tenten snickered.

This even warranted a light chuckle from the stoned face Shino Aburame.

"Special... Attention?" Naruto mumbled completely lost. as usual he wasn't paying any attention and the joke had gone completely over his head. Kiba leaned over and explained the joke as clearly as he could. It took Naruto probably a full minute before he caught on and laughed with the rest of them.

Shikamaru grumbled under his breath, but didn't argue. As much as he hated to admit it to his friends, not having you around severely impacted his day to day interactions. He was constantly irritated because he didn't get as much sleep with you gone. The side of the bed where you usually reside seemed like a gaping hole with you not there, and no matter how much tossing and turning he did he was never comfortable.

He was frustrated that he couldn't come home to you after a long day of working with idiots. Even if you did nothing but tell him to give his teammates a break he missed the sound of your voice soothing him. He missed laying in your arms while you lectured that not everybody was a genius like him. At this point he would settle for your hands just gracing his.

And most of all he was distracted by the crippling fear that one of these days you might not come home to him. Shikamaru undoubtedly knew that you could handle yourself. Yall had spared a couple times and you'd come close to beating him more than once. But the idea of not being there to protect you often left him feeling helpless.

With these thoughts constantly running through his mind, it was difficult to focus on the seemingly mundane tasks he was often given. To be honest the only times he wasn't thinking of you was when he was on his own missions, and even then his thoughts were reserved for keeping his squad alive and staying alive himself specifically to see you again.

"Well you'll be glad to know she's coming back today, I'll be expecting you to be in a better mood tomorrow!" Lady Tsunade teased before shushing the crowd and returning to give out assignments.

Just as Shikamaru had thought working at the academy was the exact mindless work he dreaded so much. They could've put him with the younger children, given him a challenge, well at least that's what he thought. Instead he supervised a group of kids around the ages of 9 to 11. These children were no stranger to Shikamaru or his legacy, actually any shinobi rumored to have amazing talent or great potential was a topic of discussion amongst the children in the academy. The stories they've heard of Shikamaru and the Nara clan as a whole were impressive enough to earn their respect. In fear of potentially earning themselves a bad name with someone they could possibly call their squad leader once graduating, They gave Shikamaru absolutely no problems.

"Shikamaru Sensei... is it true you forfeited your last match in the Chunin exams?!" A little boy shouted across the blacktop as he and a large number of his classmates came rushing towards the lazy uninterested ninja.

"Yeah, what about it?"

"I told you, Idiot!" A young girl exclaimed, hitting the previous boy in the back of the head with a scroll she had. "He was running out of Chakra and knew he couldn't finish the fight!"

The young girl's confident proclamation surprised Shikamaru. Every ninja in the village knew the story, but very few knew the reasoning behind his actions. Usually the only ones who accurately recounted the story were those who saw the match with their own eyes.

"Who told you that?" Shikamaru inquired.

"Y/n Sensei told our whole class the story the last time she came to the academy, had all of us try to figure out why you'd throw a match that you practically had won. She said it's her favorite story to tell students who are about to graduate."

"Yeah she said it's still the most amazing match she's watched during the Chunin exams, even now!"

"She told us that if we wanna be half the ninja you are, we always have to be thinking two steps ahead."

Shikamaru couldn't stop that infamous smirk from creeping onto his face. He loved hearing that you spoke to your class about him, that you even bragged about how talented he was, even if it was to a bunch of children. You admired him not only for the person he is, but the ninja he's become and that was a great honor to Shikamaru.

"Look, it's y/n Sensei, she's back from her mission!" The little girl from before yelled pointing over at the village's entrance. All the children fervently yelled your name in a vain attempt to get your attention. The academy laid on hill that allowed them to peer down at the entire village, though they could see you, you could not see them.

Shikamaru acting as if he too were one of your students rushed to the fence to see if they were correct, if finally the love of his life had returned home. Sure enough right alongside Kakashi and Tsume there you were. Your smile is as bright as ever despite having a few minor scrapes and bruises. Butterflies filled the pit of Shikamaru's stomach and what was just a sly smirk had turned into a full blown smile, teeth and all. He's heart fluttered, but skipped a beat at the same time it was like he had seen you for the first time.

"Go ahead, class is wrapping up anyway!" Iruka whispered over to him.

Shikamaru was stunned, he was so entranced by the sight of you he was completely ignorant to his surroundings. For the first time since he graduated from the Academy he had let Iruka sneak up on him. Your being gone had even a greater hold on him than he initially thought. He needed to see you right now.

He thankfully patted Iruka on his back before darting off toward the exit. He knew you'd first go to Ichirkau Ramen to pick up dinner for the two of you, a tradition set in place to celebrate a successful mission. So if he could move quick enough he could make it to the flower shop and back to the apartment the two of you shared before you. He did not want a cold empty uninviting apartment to be what greeted you once you returned home, especially after seeing you had endured wounds while on your mission. Honestly he didn't want you to have to worry about a thing.

Once he fumbled into the door, he immediately began to prepare for your arrival. He lit every candle he could find and arranged them around the perimeter of the bathroom while the water for a hot bath drew. He even went as far as to place rose petals in the water. Something he never understood but knew you would appreciate. When that was handled he placed one of his t-shirts on the counter and dimmed the lights. He could hear your footsteps approaching down the hall.

His nonchalant nature made it absolutely impossible for him to display any type of excitement or anticipation willingly. Due to this he sprinted back to living snatching up a book that was left on the coffee table and pretended to read it as you walked into the room.

He lowered the book just below his nose being careful to conceal the wide tooth smile he had behind those pages.

"You're home." He announced very casually.

You laughed. He never exceeded those two words when it came to welcoming you back, never a "I missed you" or "I'm so excited to see you" always those two words. When you first started dating such a dull response hurt your feelings, you wanted him to be jumping for joy to see you. Now the promise of hearing those two words was the primary motivation in completing your missions.

"And look, ramen!" You squealed slightly shaking the bag.

Shikamaru glanced over at the bag then returned his gaze to his book. You scoffed slightly offended, this was your favorite part of coming home, pigging out on loads of ramen after eating forest food for a week. Shikamaru knew this! He'd let you recite the details of your mission to him while he attentively listened, it was when you explained all the scrapes and bruises you inevitably always returned with.

"Go get cleaned up so we can eat." He demanded eyes still glued to that stupid book.

Your face fell, that childish giddy smile now wiped clean away. Shikamaru had never had a problem sharing at least a quick meal with you before you hopped in the shower. You were well aware of the toll half a day's walk had on one's body, but was this your boyfriend's crude way of telling you, you smelled. You sat the ramen on the dining room table not bothering to suppress the pout on your face.

Shikamaru got a glimpse of your expression out the side of his eye and immediately felt guilty. Perhaps there was a better way of getting you in the bathroom to see his surprise for you. One that hadn't made you feel so self conscious or small. For such a genius he made some stupid mistakes.

He placed his book on the coffee table to meet you in the kitchen. Bypassing the food he snuck behind you, creeping his arms around your waist before planting a small soft kiss on your cheek. Shikamaru snuggled his head into your neck before speaking.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be so crass." He mumbled against your skin. "But I do have a surprise for you in the bathroom."

You perked up at the mention of a surprise. A wide grin sneaking on your lips as the scowl you held earlier dissipated. Shikamaru had always been a thoughtful boyfriend even if he was so coy in his interactions with you. He'd fill the apartment with roses for your anniversary , then downplay the extravagant act when you walked in the door. He once planned an entire surprise birthday party for you just to spend the entire night proclaiming he barely did anything. You were excited to see what considerate display your partner had put together this time.

You let out a small gasp as you walked into the romantically decorated bathroom. The dim candles created such a relaxed yet intimate ambiance to the entire space. You chuckled some at the rose petals. Despite the countless lectures both you and Ino had received on how pointless it was to pick the petals off of roses when a person could simply just give their partner a bouquet of roses, he still included them in your warm bath.

"Shika... you didn't have to do all this."

"It was nothing." He reassured disregarding the full speed sprint from the academy to the Yamanaka flower shop, then to the apartment. "Here let me help you."

Shikamaru assisted you in removing your garments. He knew how even the smallest tasks could bring out the failure's in your body after such a long mission. Something as simple as slipping out of a pair of cargoes seemed like a feat to a body so sore from what felt like an endless battle. He let you grasp onto his forearm before dipping into the tub and sinking shoulder deep. The warm water against your ailing body felt almost euphoric. As usual Shikamaru knew exactly what you needed.

Of course your generous boyfriend could not stop there, running you a bath was not enough. He was going to bathe you himself too. Tenderly rubbing the dirt and grime from every cut and scrape on your body.

"How'd you get this one?" a question he asked ever so often. His tone is always dull and irritated.

Shikamaru hated to see you covered in bruises. You called them a causality of the job, but to him they were just a sign that he wasn't there to protect you. He would try to ignore the small ones, but any that seemed too deep or painful he felt obligated to inquire about. Although he never liked the answer. That's probably why wiping away your wounds was so therapeutic for him. If he couldn't prevent the pain, at least he could alleviate it now.

"A shuriken hit me, cheap shot." You huffed.

Your boyfriend's face didn't soften, in fact you were sure you saw him actually grimace at the mention of you getting hit. You wondered why he even tortured himself asking questions he didn't want the answer to. Nonetheless you weren't going to let some small injuries ruin your first night home.

"Rumor around the village is you missed me a whole lot while I was away. "

Shikamaru's cheeks instantly flushed as he averted his eyes away from you. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously as a few unsure chuckles fell from his mouth. He was searching for the words to say.

"I ran into Naruto at Ichiraku's, he said you had such an attitude with all of them. Heard you even snapped at Lady Tsunade you missed me so much."

"Damn, Naruto!" He mumbled underneath his breath. "You mess up my whole routine when you leave!"

You let out an exaggerated sigh at the tired excuse.

"Give it up Nara, you missed me!"

Reluctantly the shadow ninja accepted defeat. He laced his now wet hands with yours and brought them to his lips. He planted a trail of endearing kisses up your arm to your elbow before gently returning your hand to the soothing water.

"I'm a mess when you're not here. I swear you occupy so much space in my brain, I can't even think straight. I miss you so much."

The revelation caught you off guard. Maybe it was his lustful entrance of finally having you home after a month, but Shikamaru very rarely was this vulnerable with you. Such words blossomed butterflies in your stomach. It was as if Shikamaru was confessing his feelings for you for the very first time.

"I love you so much y/n."

"I Love you too."

The two of you feel into a comfortable silence. Shikamaru stood to grab you a dry towel. Reluctant you feel deeper into the water, Although drawing colder you couldn't imagine getting out the tub just yet. After all it had been weeks since you allowed yourself to be pampered in such a way. You wanted to savor every moment.

"God, this feels so good." You moaned in pleasure.

Shikamaru raised an eyebrow at your blissful proclamation, that infamous smirk plastered on his face. He approached the tub, abandoning the towel on the counter, and kneeled behind you. He snaked his hand up your torso, fondling you some before they landed at your neck. You'd have let out a small gasp if the familiar feeling of his fingers lightly squeezing your throat hadn't completely knocked the air out of you. He kissed his way from behind your ear down to the base of your neck.

"I can make you feel better."

The next morning the two of you found yourselves in Lady Tsunade's office, along with your comrades. As usual the Fifth Hokage was assigning daily tasks, when her eyes fell upon Shikamaru. His demeanor was clearly different from yesterday, His hands had returned to his pockets and his scowl had been replaced with a content grin.

"You seem to be in better spirits Shikamaru." Tsunade announced inquisitively. "I assume you've resolved that issue of yours?"

The other shinobi snickered at her insinuation. The attention made both you and Shikamaru look down at the floor hoping it would open up and consume you two whole. Shikamaru rubbed the back of his neck, eyes closed before answering.

"Yes Ma'am."

#shikamaru imagine #shikamaru x y/n #shikamaru x you #shikamaru x reader #shikamaru #shikamaru nara #fan fic #fanfic #naruto #naruto shippuden #konoha 11

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teletraan-meets-jarvis · 3 years

Text

What I Want - Part 2

AO3 Link

Chapter Title: What I Need

Pairing: Crosshair x fem!Jedi Reader

Summary: Following the awkwardness of the night before, you go to an old friend to try and process your feelings for Crosshair.

Click here for Part 1

Warnings: 18+, a bit more frisky business but not full on so rated 18 just to be safe. Swearing.

Word Count: 2.6k

Author’s Notes: You ask, you get!! Thanks so much for all the support and love for part 1 ❤️. As a thank you, I bring you part 2, I hope you enjoy! If this one takes off a bit as well, I do have an idea for a little bonus chapter around the Bad Batches' reaction. As always, feedback/comments are massively appreciated along with reblogs. Fic is below the cut off, thanks for reading!!

Taglist: @aerynwrites @shannon-lynn-21 @saltywintersoldat @tired-night-owl @wille-zarr

A comm alarm beeped softly, slowly pulling you out your slumber. Giving the device a sleepy glare, you shut it off and huffed back onto your bunk. Wrecker’s snores were echoing off the small ship barracks, you rolled your eyes at his sleeping form across the room as you swung your legs over the side of your top bunk. Below you, Tech slept soundly, he managed to fall asleep with his goggles on which were now sitting wonky on his relaxed face. He also had a datapad clutched to his chest, almost like a teddy bear, which made you chuckle to yourself.

You’d barely slept after getting back from the mission but being a General stopping over on Coruscant meant rest would be a pipe dream. Your alarm was set to get you out of bed and ready for the first of what you were sure would be a hundred and ten briefings today. You were always happy to shoulder the politics for the team, removing that burden from Hunter so they could keep to themselves. But today, you could really do without it.

You looked over at Hunter and Crosshair’s bunks, the former sleeping up top with an arm over his eyes. Probably to block out the few small coloured lights on the ship that shone from critical systems, preventing the room from being truly pitch black. You didn’t envy Hunter’s enhanced senses, they seemed to cause him quite a bit of discomfort when they weren’t on missions. You should probably pick him up an eye mask one of these days.

Below him, Crosshair slept with his back to the open room. One of the few times you ever saw his body relaxed was when he slept. You cringed as you remembered yesterday’s awkwardness with the sniper and mentally cursed at yourself for causing, what was, an easily avoidable situation.

Shaking your head you jumped silently off of your bunk, mindful to not wake any of the batch. You gently removed Tech’s goggles, placing them in their usual spot before moving over to grab some fresh robes and head for the fresher. Today was going to be a real drag.

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“Hey! Look what the Lothcat dragged in” someone called after you as you trudged up the steps to the GAR Headquarters. You turned around to see none other than Anakin Skywalker jogging up behind you.

“Nice to see you too Skyguy” he chuckled at the nickname as he threw an arm around your shoulders.

You fell into companionable chatter as you made your way to your first meeting, the dark halls of the military headquarters looking indistinguishable as you attempted to find the correct room. Members of the Coruscant Guard patrolled the halls, nodding politely to you both as you strolled past.

Eventually you found the room where Mace, Plo and Luminara were waiting, along with some clone and human high command. You stood outside the door for a moment, readying yourself to seal your fate of being talked at for a solid eight standard hours.

Eventually you caved, mostly as you were on the verge of being late if you debated standing outside any longer. Begrudgingly, you sat through briefing after briefing. All the voices and different rooms blending into one grey blur as you tried to take in what information you could, but your tired and stressed mind was having none of it.

While it was nice to catch up with some of the other Jedi, you always felt a bit out of place among the perfect members of the council. More so now than ever.

You ended up wandering back to the temple with Anakin where you both retired to his room and you flopped down onto his simple bed with a whine.

“Okay, what’s going on? You’ve been off all day” Anakin was the closest thing you had to a brother, you trained as Padawans together and due to your similar age you became fast friends. You knew about his marriage to Padme and decided that if you could offload your dilemma on anyone, it’d be him.

“I fucked up” you groaned out from behind your hands.

“What’d you do?” Anakin replied in a playful tone.

“I might’ve got a bit hot and heavy with one of the clones in my squad, led him on and then cut it off” Anakin raised an eyebrow at your confession. “And now he’s pissed at me”

“Why?” You weren’t entirely sure which part of that entire thing he was questioning.

“Because I started the whole thing, I wanted it. Then all of a sudden I did that whole guilty Jedi, must follow every word of the order thing, gave him some pathetic look which said really sorry I can’t have attachments mate, hope you understand. He called me out on it before I could even utter the banthashit excuse and then he stomped off and hasn’t spoken to me since.”

“In his defence, seems like he was probably wound a little tight” Anakin replied with a chuckle which you just groaned at.

“He has every right to be pissed. Hells, I would be if the roles were reversed. Whats with this whole self-righteous act us Jedi have going on?”

“Look, it’s hard being a Jedi at the best of times. It takes an inhumane amount of self-control, which is why its not a path for the weak. But being a Jedi while at war… it’s a lot. You’re emotions are running high, you’re forming bonds with soldiers on the battlefield that you shouldn’t be, but none of us can help it because it’s uncharted territory. Maker knows I’d hunt down anyone who hurt Obi-Wan or my Captain. Yes, It’s not the Jedi way, but neither is fighting a grand-scale war.” Anakin’s eyes were alive with emotion as he spoke, be he quickly caught himself and then it was gone.

“My point is, don’t beat yourself up so much. No one is getting kicked out the order or in his case reconditioned if that’s what you’re worried about. Figure out what it is you want, and then just be discreet about it” you looked at Anakin like he’d grown two heads, he just winked at your confused stare.

“Okay let’s keep it simple. Are you attracted to him?” You thought back to the night before and firmly nodded in response.

“Do you like him as a person?” You pondered his question.

“Well, it’s Cross. I wasn’t sure if he even liked me for a long time. He’s closed off, anti-social, but he’s also a good guy, cares about his brothers, has saved my ass multiple times, and he is kinda funny in his own, snide way” you rattled off with fondness in your words.

“Well then I suggest you go and talk to him.” Anakin replied, giving you a knowing look when he spotted the small smile on your lips as you spoke about the sniper.

You took a deep breath, glad to have finally gotten that off your chest and feeling content that you now knew what to do next. “Thanks, Ani”

“Ugh please don’t call me that” he moaned back, apparently only Padme was allowed to get away with that one.

————————————————

Your walk back to the Marauder felt like it dragged on and on. Your brain ran over a thousand scenarios of what to say, how he’d react and you were about to short circuit. There was so much risk, so much possibility, that you did your best to shut your mind off and let yourself handle it in the moment. These things never went as planned anyway, it was best not to guess.

The large door to the ship hissed open, your boots clanking on the metal surface as you cautiously walked into your home. It didn’t take you long to find Crosshair, he was sat in the main hull methodically cleaning his hand blaster. Everyone else must’ve been asleep. He was just in his blacks, the material hugging him in the most wonderful way, it’s like whoever designed those things was trying to trip you up. The contours of his arm muscles flexing as he worked, his strong chest looked practically chiselled at the heart of his lean frame. You had to force yourself to calm down a little bit.

“Uh, hey” you greeted awkwardly. “Mind if I join you?”

You took his silence as a well he’s not saying no. He didn’t spare you a glance as you walked in and took a seat opposite him. As a General in the GAR, you rarely got nervous. War, as a concept, was simple. You knew your purpose, your objective, you had a job to get done and you’d do it. The risks never stopped you, rather they fuelled you. Probably why you’re such a good fit for the bad batch.

But this right now, personal feelings, not knowing where you stand with someone you care about. Because if you were honest, you really did care about Crosshair, the same as you did the rest of the team. You’d only been with the squad just under a year but you’d gladly lay down your life for any of them in a heartbeat. If you could at least get back to where you were before the other night, you’d be over the moon.

You weren’t used to being so nervous, you let your hands fiddle with you dark Jedi robes as you readied yourself to speak again.

“Look, I’m not here to throw some crap about being a Jedi at you, I promise. And I’m sorry for trying it before” he still didn’t look at you, finding his blaster much more interesting. But you could tell he was listening, you had his attention. Might as well keep babbling.

“In terms of an explanation for what happened yesterday, well I guess I panicked.” You sighed as you tried to find the next words “The way you made me feel that night, I… I’ve never felt like that before and everything i’d been taught over the years screamed at me that what I was doing was dangerous and wrong. I now realise that I’m just an idiot. I make my own decisions and I… uh -well, I stick by that one, starting something that is.” Still nothing.

“I know this is probably a long shot. But in the interest of being transparent” you rambled “uh… if you want to go down that road again, I’m up for seeing what happens, can be as casual as we like. I promise I won’t freak out on you again.” You chuckled and thought you almost spotted a slight pull in the corner of Crosshair’s lips “But if you want to go back to how we were before, I’d also really like that.” You watched him for a while as he gave no acknowledgement of your words, his cleaning finished as he now gave the weapon a once over in his hands. Having said everything you needed, you got up from your seat, looking away from him.

“Well, if I can do anything else, let me know” you turned on your heel to leave, feeling slightly defeated but glad you’d at least made the first step.

“I could think of a few things” he finally spoke as he leaned back into his seat and continued to stare at his blaster, still not meeting your gaze.

Well that caught your attention, you turned back around to face him as he carried on ignoring you. While his tone was unbothered as he spoke, you knew him just enough to know his words held a meaning. He was playing with you, back to his usual teasing and you could’ve laughed at the relief that washed over you. This you could work with. A cheeky idea popped into your head and you’d decided to run with it.

“Oh really?” Throwing caution to the wind, you strode over to the sniper slowly. His gaze finally meeting yours after all this time, watching you as you got closer and closer. Practically drawing you in with his amber eyes. You pushed him back by his chest, creating enough room so you could straddle his lap. “Care to elaborate?”

He huffed out a short laugh at your words, his face overall unbothered but his eyes, they were burning into you. “You’re a smart girl, I’m sure you’ll figure it out”.

You hummed in response, deciding to kick things up a notch you wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing your faces just breaths apart. “Something like this?” You asked, pausing for another second before bringing your lips to his in a surprisingly soft and gentle kiss. You felt his hands come up to rest on your back, pulling you closer as you continued your slow dance. This was so different from the other night, where before there was desperation and lust, now there was something more… tender, passionate. You were quite glad you weren’t standing as the way he moved against you would’ve definitely made your knees weak.

Dragging yourself away from his lips, you searched his face. His mouth pulled into a barely there smirk “That’s a start.”

“Who said I was finished?” And just like that, the last few strands of tension between you both snapped and you relaxed in his arms. You fisted your hands into the front of his blacks and pulled him back to you, his tongue slipped between your lips, curious and demanding. He was everywhere again, filling your nose with the scent of the standard cheap GAR soap but mixed with something earthy, something so distinctly Crosshair and you couldn’t get enough.

You could tell why the Jedi order frowned upon such activities, kissing Crosshair was intoxicating. You couldn’t think of anything else other than the handsome clone in front of you and just how much you wanted him in that moment.

His hands wandered lower and lower down you back until they rested comfortably on your backside, pulling you further up his lap. Feeling mischievous, you started trailing kisses along his jaw. Setting a teasing, languid pace as you mapped out the spots that made him squirm. Crosshair was never a man of many words, so you made it your mission to see just how vocal you could make him.

As your lips met his pulse point, he gave a loud exhale and you smirked in victory against his skin as you continued the onslaught on his senses. You definitely seemed to be doing something right as his hands found themselves in your hair, clutching slightly and you couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped you. Even while trying to gain the upper hand in the situation, he always had some control over you. It was maddening in the best way, setting your veins alight with desire.

Determined to get another victory you traced your tongue against the base of the side of his neck and trailed it all the way up to the bottom of his ear, which you teasingly took into your mouth, teeth grazing the soft skin. A strangled moan escaped the clone and that was the moment where you knew you were hopelessly and utterly gone. Your mind filled with nothing other than wanting to be closer to Crosshair.

“Not very Jedi of you” he commented, slightly breathless when you finally stopped teasing him and came back up to meet his eyes. Looking down at where your bodies were pressed against one another, you chuckled.

“What exactly about this situation led you to believe I was ever a model Jedi?” You smirked, though it was only visible for a second before his mouth was back on yours, devouring you as his hands greedily roamed your body.

You continued making out like teenagers for most of the evening, taking the time to explore each other, enjoying the closeness. Contentment settled over your body, almost as if this was were you were meant to be. If Crosshair’s arms were where you belonged, well, you could think of worse places to be.

Back to Part 1

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marauder-exe · 4 years

Text

Prompt List #2

Welcome to my biggest prompt list ever

if you wanna request something from this list, just use the character and ‘ prompt 34 from prompt list #2′ thank u!

Theres like 200 so be wary

Angst

“I love you ! Is that what you wanted to hear ?”

“I love him/her, and I know that I shouldn’t.”

“Can you just shut your mouth ?”

“wHY DO YOU KEEP LYING TO ME ?”

“We both know that I should walk away, but I can’t.”

“Wait, he/she has a girlfriend/boyfriend ?"

“I lo—-” “No, please… Don’t say that. You love her/him, not me.”

"Could you just take this pain away ? It hurts, so much… Help me.”

“You’re safe here, I got you.”

“Don’t ask her out again, please… You’re killing me, every single time you ask that.”

“Look, he/she wants you, just make him/her happy.”

“If you go, I’ll know that you never loved me.”

“We never were just friends, and you know it.” “I know it, but you deserve someone better than me.”

“SHE WAS CRYING BECAUSE OF YOU!!!”

“You love me like I’m the person who actually deserves your love.” “But you are the only one who deserves it.”

“I know for a fact that you’re not “fine”.”

“You’re looking at me like.. you’re disgusted. What did I do? Just tell me what I did, please!”

“What happened between us?”

“Nothing has changed!” “Yes it has, and you know it.”

“Love isn’t supposed to hurt this badly.”

“You said you needed space. You were 5,000 miles away for a year, and you’re still unsure. I’m starting to think that an entire universe apart wouldn’t be enough space for you.”

“I remember when he/she/they used to look at me that way”

“I want you to list every lie you ever told me. Then I’ll forgive you.”

“I don’t hate you. I hate that after all of this, you’re still trying to lie to me”

“I can’t keep this secret for you anymore.”

“I’m sorry I’m not what you signed up for.”

“Why she/her/them? It could have been anybody, and you chose to betray me with her/him/them.”

“This will be the last time you lie to me.”

“You never loved me, did you?”

“You made me miserable and I still loved you.”

“Everytime something goes well, I momentarily forget how much I despise you.”

“We’re never going to have a happy ending, just remember that.”

“Don’t pretend like you’re not happy to see me like this.”

“Your mind must be a horrible place.”

“Hand me the gun and I’ll kill him myself.”

“And I thought you loved me."

" And I thought I loved you."

" Aren't you even going to cry?"

“I didn’t expect you to wait forever. I just hoped…”

“Did you always know that you were going to leave?”

“If you cry, I’ll stay, and if I stay that will just give you another reason to hate me.”

“I’m addicted and at this point I don’t think anything could make me stop.”

”If you wanna know, then ask.”

“You never asked because you knew I wouldn’t tell you what you wanted to hear.”

“We grew apart, and at this point I’m glad.”

“Find somebody else to kiss your ass.”

“When are you going to stop clawing for something that’s never going to happen?”

“What you’re doing is going to kill you one day.”

“It was easier to believe that the you I knew was dead than deal with the fact that I still have to see you every day.”

“What you’re doing is going to kill you one day.”

Fluff

51. “You’re hair is really soft after you wash it.”

52. “Ssh. Stop fussing. I’m just braiding your hair.”

53. “You smell really nice.”

54. “Would it be all right if I borrowed your sweater? It smells like you.”

55. “I might have slept with your robe when you were gone.”

56. “If you steal the blankets, I am going to put my cold feet on you.”

57. “Here, let’s share the blanket.”

58. “You’re comfy.”

59.“You are very endearing when you are half-asleep.”

60.“But I want to hear you sing.”

61.“Don’t get up - I’ll do it.”

62.“Care to give me a back scratch?”

63.“I think I love you.”

64.“Your bed head is really cute.”

65.“How about a kiss?”

66.“You made this for me?”

67.Aw, you’re blushing.”

68. Uh oh, I know that look. What do you want?”

69. “Let me help you with that.”

70. “I don’t want to forget this moment.”

71.“Are you really flirting with me right now?”

72.“I like the way your hand fits in mine.”

73.“You have something in your hair, umm… Do you want me to get it out?”

74.“It’s nice that your voice was the first thing I heard today.”

75.“This movie is really scary, but you’re into it so I’m trying not to cover my face the whole time, but- WHAT IS THAT?”

76.“Wait, don’t pull away… Not yet.”

77.“Half the time I get too embarrassed to say anything”

78.“No, it’s fine. I can wait until you’re done talking to them.”

79.“No, like…. It’s just, I can’t believe you’re actually wearing my clothes.”

80.“You’re a big piece of inspiration for this, honestly.”

81.“I’ve been trying to get ready for like an hour and a half, because I know you’re going to look so good and I need to try and match up.”

82.“I wanted to say “I love you” for the first time without stuttering, but that failed.”

83.“My friends get so annoyed by how much I talk about how sometimes.”

84.“No, mom, don’t tell him/her I said that about him/her!”

85.“I can’t get over how a few months ago I wanted to learn your name and now you’re having breakfast with me in my sweater.”

86.“ You are so beautiful — So fucking beautiful. “

87.“And just WHERE do you think you’re putting your hands?”

88.“Wow, you look even better in the daylight.”

89.“I don’t remember ever having this many hickeys. But I don’t mind.”

90.“We could order pizza and just stay like this all day.”

91.“It was always you.”

92.I love you in every possible way.”

93.“I didn’t mean to love you so much.”

94.“Don’t you hurt a single hair on his/her/their head.”

95.“Duck, you idiot!”

96.“Hey. Pal. I’ve got a wand and I’m not afraid to use it.”

97.“Shh, you’re safe. I won’t let you go.”

98.“It’s not a double date. We’re just third and fourth wheeling.”

99.“Look, I know we don’t know each other that well, but I’m still worried about you. No one deserves to be alone.”

100.“I remember practicing how to ask you out in the mirror..”

Sarcasm

101.“Define normal.”

102.“Do I get bonus points if I act like I care?”

103.“Just remember if we get caught, you’re deaf and I don’t speak English.”

104.“Don’t look for any redeeming qualities. I don’t have any.”

105.“It’s amazing how fast the world can go from bad to total shit storm.”

106.“I love you. You enormously stubborn pain in the ass.”

107.“And you wonder why you’re still single.”

108.“Remind me to kill you. Please.”

109.“That’s a little melodramatic, don’t you think?”

110.“She’s crazy. And just when you think you’ve reached the bottom of her craziness, there’s a crazy underground garage.”

111.“She may seem like lollipops and rainbows but I bet behind close doors she’s latex and whips.”

112.“If my day gets any worse, I’m asking hell if they’re having an exchange program.”

113.“Sorry. I don’t speak skank.”

114.“My middle finger salutes you.”

115.“I don’t have enough middle fingers to let you know how I feel.”

116.Somebody’s cranky.” “Somebody needs to shut up.”

117.“Oh darling. Go buy a brain.”

118.“Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn.”

119.“All due respect, but that’s a bunch of crap.”

120.“I am one of the few people in the world who can murder you and leave no forensic evidence behind.”

121.“Excuse me. I have to go make a scene.”

122.“What did I tell you about calling her/him the devil?” “That it’s offensive to the devil?”

123.“I heard that!” “You were supposed to!”

124.“I need therapy after this.”

125.“You didn’t get in trouble for lying. You got in trouble for lying badly.”

126.“I turned out liking you a lot more that I originally planned.”

127.“I think you’re weird.” “I think you’re boring.”

128.“I’m afraid I’ve been thinking…” “A dangerous pastime.”

129.“Wow, there’s a big surprise. I think I’m going to have a heart attack and die from surprise.”

130.“I’m gonna hit you so hard, it’ll make you ancestors dizzy.”

131.“Sarcasm is the body’s natural reaction to stupidity.”

132.“Well, excuse me, psychic wonder!”

133.“Don’t look in her eyes, she might steal your soul.”

134.“She’s hot, but she’s evil.”

135.“Do I regret it? Yes. Would I do it again? Probably.”

136.“I already know that I’m going to hell. At this point it’s really go big or go home.”

137.“I’m not a damsel in distress. I’m a damsel doing damage.”

138.“So stick that in your juice box and suck it.”

139.“Never take life seriously. No one ever comes out alive anyway.”

140.“Sometimes I question my sanity. Occasionally it replies.”

141.“Why should we date?” “Because we are attracted to each other.” “I am attracted to pie, but I do not feel the need to date pie.”

142.“Neither one us is drunk enough for this conversation.”

143.“You’re questioning my methods.” “I’m not questioning it, I’m saying it’s stupid.”

144.“Wow, somebody needs a Happy Meal.”

145.“I didn’t do it!” “Then why are you laughing?” “Because whoever did it is a freaking genius.”

146.“Idiots. I’m surrounded by idiots.”

147.“You couldn’t handle me even if I came with instructions.

148.“Obviously you have mistaken me for somebody who gives a shit.”

149.“Rule number one: don’t bother sucking up. I already hate you, that’s not going to change.”

150.“You make no sense to me.” “Welcome to my life.”

Drama

151.“Can you stop thinking about yourself for once?”

152.“Can you stop thinking about yourself for once?”

153.“Don’t think I forgot about what you did last time.”

154.“I know you lied to me.”

155.“I’m not even sorry.”

156.“You backstabber!” 157.“I never want to see you again.” 158.“You never mattered to me.”

159.“I knew this was a bad idea.”

160.“Rot in hell.”

161.“It was supposed to be a secret!”

162.“No one loves me.” 163.“He/she/they is/are so petty…” 164.“You made me cry.” 165.“I don’t know who you are anymore.” 166.“How DARE you?!” 167.“I know you’re not talking to me…” 168.“I SAW you with him/her/them!”

169.“Just leave me alone.”

170.“What did you do?!” 171.“I told everyone that I didn’t want to talk but I’m actually dying for attention.”

172. “Just admit that was extra…”

173.“I forgive, but I don’t forget.” 174.“Did you see what he/she/they was/were wearing?” 175.“So what if I had sex with your ex?” 176.“There’s something I have to tell you…” 177.“I can’t do this anymore.” 178.“You weren’t there for me when I needed you the most.” 179.“I never loved you.” 180.“It’s too late.”

181.“Quit ignoring me.”

182. “Don’t you get it? It’s because I love you!”

183.“I love you. I’m sorry.”

184.“I don’t want to be friends.”

185.“Can we please pretend I never said that?”

186.“Friendzoned again.”

187.“You should’ve loved me when you had the chance.”

188.“Fuck you for toying with my emotions like that.”

189.“I was there for you when no one else was!”

190.“Alright – I can tell a ‘no’ when I hear it.”

191.“I’m sorry I acted so creepy.”

192.“Fuck. It’s like what they say – nice guys finish last…”

193.“I’m tired of keeping this secret. Even if you don’t love me back.”

194. “I knew that’d be your answer. That’s why I never told you before.”

195.“When I said I loved you, I meant it.”

196.“Is there any part of you, deep down, that might love me back?”

197.“You were the one that left all those notes for me?”

198.“You’re in a relationship with another person – you know this can’t end well.”

199.“We agreed this was just physical!”

200.“I love you. I know you don’t love me, so don’t say it back.”

Ahhh im sorry that was so long, but if you read all the way to here, your a real one.

Again i write for all Hp characters! Feel free to use these prompts as ur own

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mystic-sky · 3 years

Note

This is just a request, but do you think you can write something short about gojo meeting his s/o who is a poc and how he’d react to her curly hair 🥺👉🏾👈🏾 the fandom is still pretty new so there’s not a lot of poc drabbles out there if any at all.

Here you go bby, I hope you enjoy 💕✨

Summary: An AU where you’re a sorcerest whose stationed in Japan due to the National Sorcerer Exchange Program I just made up lol. Even though it’s your first encounter Satoru is a big flirt, as usual✨💘

Word count: 1.7k

It was annoying, being one of the few special grade sorcerers based in Tokyo. Satoru Gojo often wished he could duplicate himself at least three or four times, just to reduce some of the workload stress he had. The older he got, the more he wished he wasn’t the strongest- and that’s a pretty surprising statement on his end.

He felt he couldn’t catch a break. Between special grade work, his students and now looking after Yuji Itadori, who hysterically swallowed a special grade object, he had a lot on his plate.

It was hardly a burden for him. He only wished he could be in multiple places at once. This way, he could make sure the higher ups wouldn’t mess with his students, who meant so much to him.

In sight of the increased special grade activity in Japan and several other countries, the first ever Sorcerer Exchange program was implemented by higher ups across the world. It would ensure that special and first grade sorcerers were evenly spread out and or placed in regions that needed special attention. Satoru wasn’t particularly fond of anything the higher ups did, but this idea wasn’t so bad.

“A government funded, international sorcerer exchange program,” Yaga informs Satoru, who sits across from him, idly drinking his tea.

“And how does this work exactly?” Satoru raises a brow at Yaga before dropping cubes of sugar into his cup, stirring loudly.

“For 6 month spans, high level sorcerers who applied to the exchange will be stationed in different countries to regulate curse activity.”

“Sounds like it pays more. Nanamin might like that.”

“It does, depending on your skill level.” Yaga sits back in his seat. “We’ve already received a few sorcerers from America, Africa, China, Russia-”

“All special grade?” Satoru interjects.

“Currently the exchange program only allows special and first grade sorcerers. Considering the high levels of cursed energy around the world this year, it would be best if we avoided any casualties by placing inexperienced sorcerers in the wrong places.”

“That reminds me. You’re prohibited from participating, considering we’re a red area. Until cursed activity improves here you won’t be allowed to participate.”

“Aww c’mon, you guys suck.” Satoru cocks his head back, sighing loudly.

He already traveled a lot for special grade missions but never for more than a few days. Now there was a whole six-month program and he wasn’t allowed to participate in it? Then again, he couldn’t leave Yuji here with the possibility of the higher ups trying to hurt him again. He promised himself he would protect all of his students.

“There are several meetings I must attend tomorrow and I’d like for you to be there. Don’t be late.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Is that all you wanted to talk about?” Satoru is already up and gripping the handle on the office door.

“I’ve also decided to assign a co-teacher to your first years, for your shorter stationed trips every now and then. She’s an extremely talented special grade from the exchange program. So you needn’t worry of a repeat of the detention center incident with Yuji.”

He had already swung the door open, towering above your body in the door frame. Your nose is barely touching his jacket, and hand almost touching his chest as you were attempting to knock. You take a step back, a bit startled.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I tried to knock,” you say, looking up at the blindfolded man in front of you. “I’m looking for Masamichi Yaga?”

Satoru is startled by your flawless Japanese, considering you’re clearly not of Japanese descent. He took note of your tan skin and big, curly hair that was pinned back in certain spots to display your face.

What a cutie.

“No, I’m Satoru Gojo. Principal Yaga’s the one sitting behind me.” He’s not entirely surprised by your appearance, considering he’s traveled all over the world to fight curses. “And you are?”

You almost think he’s flirting, considering how smooth the question was. Also, you’re now recognizing who he is, cheeks reddening a bit.

“I’m (Full Name). You’re the special grade I’m going to be subbing with for the first years! I’ve heard great things!” You politely bow a bit.

“I know.” His grin large and cocky as he steps out the way, allowing you to walk in. “No need to be so formal though.”

You’re slightly put off by his attitude, but principal Yaga interjects quickly.

“(Last Name), come in. I’ve been awaiting your arrival. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” Yaga is on his feet now, bowing towards you.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too. I’m excited to work with you all.” You say as he motions you to sit and have some tea.

Satoru has found a reason to stay in the room, plopping down beside you and taking up his tea he had previously abandoned.

“Thanks for sending Ichiji to the airport to help with my belongings. I brought so much stuff, I hope it wasn’t too much for him.” You brain flashes back to Ichiji struggling to hold all of your luggage outside the baggage claim.

“Pffft, feel free to call on him whenever you want. That’s what he’s here for.” Satoru assures you, flashing you a toothy grin. You get the feeling that he probably made Ichiji’s job a living hell.

“I must say, Ms. (Last Name), your Japanese is remarkable. How did you become so fluent?” Yaga asks, filling your cup.

“I’m flattered. I taught myself what I could before attending (insert random ass college name in Japan) University. I’ve always admired Japanese culture so I studied it pretty hard. I can also speak (Native language, if you have one) and (two other languages of your choosing).”

“Wow, your Japanese is better than most locals.” Satoru chuckled. “And you’re pretty too. Lucky me.”

You shifted in place on the sofa. The most powerful sorcerer known to man was sitting beside you and he was complimenting you.

“Thank you,” you say loosely, picking up your teacup.

“Ahem,” Yaga interrupts, earning a tiny snort from Satoru.

“He hates it when I flirt.” Satoru whispers as he leans over towards you. Your face feels a bit hot, and you decide it’s from the steam of the tea in your face and not the handsome man leaning a bit too close to you. You set the cup down after the lightest sip.

“I hate to get down to business so soon Ms. (Last Name), but I’d like for you to get settled in as soon as possible. I’ve mapped out a few assignments for you this week. This is your first.” He slides the first report across the table.

“There have been several reports of abnormal cursed energy in Shinjuku City. It’s likely a special grade. I’d like for you to get to the bottom of it. It shouldn’t be a problem, considering your level of expertise. I’ve forwarded the documents to you as well.” The glint in his glasses makes you chuckle a bit. You flip through the report briefly.

“I skimmed this one on the flight. Whatever it is,” you begin, taking out your phone, “seems to be luring children. This corresponds with the rise in missing childrens’ cases I read about in Shinjuku.”

You place the article on your phone down on the table for principal Yaga to read. You liked to do your own research on locals news to see if curses had any sort of correspondence with a certain area’s events.

“You think a curse is kidnapping children?” Satoru suggests.

“It’s just a hunch. It’s nothing I haven’t encountered before.” You bite the nail on your thumb, realizing the inevitable.

“Unfortunately, if I’m correct, those children most likely aren’t alive.”

You stand up, firmly.

“I trust you’ll take care of it then,” Yaga hands your device towards you.

“Most definitely,” you look at your watch. “And I’ll be done before dinner.”

You offer the principal a smile before you slip on your trench coat, eager to take on your first mission.

“By all means, it can wait until the morning after you’ve rested.” Yaga persists.

“Nope! Not when children are potentially involved. I can’t risk it.” You straighten your clothes, and bow once more. “I’ll report back soon.”

“(Name) doesn’t let jet lag stop her from doing her job. What an admirable woman.” Satoru cooed.

“Well, Gojo-san, it was a pleasure meeting you.” You begin to wave but Satoru is on his feet, and right behind you, making you stumble back again.

“Oh no, I’m coming with you.” He grins. “I’ve gotta see what the most powerful special grade sorceress is capable of in person.”

While you had heard of your own nickname before, you hated when people called you that. You tried your best to be humble about it. There’s always new ways to improve your cursed technique, even if you don’t know how yet.

“So you do know who I am,” you shifted your stance, hands on your hips.

“I’ve heard a few things,” he says slyly. “But I’d like to see them first hand.”

“Hmph, alright then. I suppose you can show me around Shinjuku. It’s been a while since I’ve been there.” You flip your hair, making your way towards the door.

“And it’s your lucky day, I feel like showing off.” You say, peaking over your shoulder.

“Great, it’s a date.”

You stop dead in your tracks, just two steps out of Yaga’s office.

“What?”

“Even after four years of university in Japan? I said, it’s a date.”

The door shuts behind him, and his grin is even more smug.

The audacity.

“You’re not going on a date with me unless you ask me properly.” You roll your eyes, swaying down the steps. So this was Satoru Gojo.

“C’mon sweetheart, we’d be iconic as hell— the strongest man and the strongest woman? We’d be unstoppable.”

“I don’t even know what you look like underneath that thing.” You say, motioning towards his blindfold.

Oh , but you lied. You’d seen his Instagram.

He was a selfie fanatic. That and a cake fiend.

“Wanna see right now? Will it change your mind?” His voice low and steady behind you.

“I’ve got a curse to excorcise.” You roll your eyes, speeding up ahead of him. It didn’t help much considering his legs were so long.

“You know you wanna,” he bends down, voice deep in your ear.

“I’m not listening~

You’re far ahead of him now, attempting to hide the heat on your face and hearing deep chuckles echo behind you.

“Ah, this is going to be the best six months ever!” He laughs heartily.

A small smile crept on your lips.

Maybe it would be.

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x POC reader #jjk gojo #poc fic #jujutsu kaisen #gojo sensei #jjk #jjk x reader #gojo saturo #jjk fluff #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu sorcerer #gojo x satoro x reader

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thran-duils · 3 years

Text

Lost in Zero Gravity (P.4)

Title: Lost In Zero Gravity (Part Four) Summary: Fem!Reader x Mob Boss!Tony Stark x Mob Boss!Steve Rogers. Reader is a call girl who runs high end parties. She catches the attention of Tony Stark who invites her back to his room with his friend. She might have performed too well because she becomes their new favorite play toy and they don’t like to share. Words: 2,944 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Smut, prostitution, infidelity, angst, domestic violence, stalking, possessive behavior Author’s Note: If you don’t like the tags on this fic, just a warning to stop reading because it’s taking the turn that was mentioned all up in the tags

Part Three || Part Five || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

It had barely been a week and a half and Steve was already calling you. They’d sent you flowers twice and sent Tatiana a check to give to you. But apparently giving you the time you thought you needed was not on their docket.

You answered happily though, “Hey.”

“Hey, how are you feeling?”

“Far better than the last time you saw me. I can guarantee that. But I still don’t look my best.”

“That’s perfectly okay, Y/N. Understandable that you aren’t completely healed up yet,” Steve said. “But, we were hoping you would be up to a small trip.”

“O-oh,” you stammered. “I, uh, I mean should I? I don’t know if I should be getting rough.”

Steve laughed at that and assured you, “I can be gentle if that’s what you’re worried about. But, really. It’s actually important that you come with.”

You bit your bottom lip, contemplating. “I actually haven’t left the brothel since… you know.”

He hummed in acknowledgment. “Mhm, well, it’s secluded. It’s my beach house. Don’t gotta worry about anyone but us and some guards. And we can pick you up directly from your place.”

A beach house? God, that did sound nice. You cleared your throat, trying to joke, “Wives? I don’t need my nose broken again.”

“No. They are going on a small trip themselves separately. We are going on a crabbing trip as far as they know.”

“But what are you really doing then? And why is it important that I come?”

Teasingly, Steve told you, “It’s supposed to be a surprise.”

“Me and surprises really aren’t—”

“Come on, sweetheart,” Steve cut in. “You need to get out of that place. Get some fresh air. There’s a jet tub and a hot tub. You can stay in it as long as you want.” He added and you could hear the smirk in his tone, “As long as you let us get the look we want, that is. Stipulation.”

“Pervert,” you joked, smiling despite yourself.

“It’ll be worth it. Trust me.”

Sighing, you weighed your thoughts. “When?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” you asked surprised. It was Tuesday.

“Yeah, we are ready to go and I’m assuming you don’t have any plans?”

“No.”

“Perfect. We will swing by to pick you up at 4.”

“In the afternoon I hope.”

Steve chuckled, “Yes, the afternoon, dove. So, be ready. You know how punctual Tony is.”

“Don’t want to start the trip off on a bad foot,” you agreed.

“Exactly.”

You blurted, “Hey… can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

Carefully choosing your words, you asked, “Did you… were you able to find him?” Steve was silent on the other end of the line. You furrowed your brow and asked, “Steve? Are you still—"

“Yeah, I’m here. And yes,” Steve answered. “We sure did.”

“And…” you prodded, trailing off, your curiosity getting the better of you.

“We’ll come get you at 4pm tomorrow, dove. You should get your things packed,” he said, completely sidestepping your question. “I liked that blue one piece you bought when we were out that one time. The cut out one with great cleavage.”

“Okay, I’ll pack that one. How long are we staying?”

“A few days. Can’t wait to see you tomorrow. I gotta go though, dove.”

“Okay,” you repeated. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

When you hung up, you stared down at your phone. Why hadn’t he answered your question? You turned around after a few moments, placing your phone down on your bed. You got onto the floor and reached to grab your travel suitcase out from underneath the bed.

<><><>

Coming down the stairs after you dropped your bag off in the master bedroom and taking a very long bath in the jet tub, you slowed your steps. You were taking in the view, looking out the windows that stretched at least ten feet at the first landing on the stairs. The water was lapping at the rocks outside, the sun just starting to set. It was calming.

“How was it?” Steve asked, coming into view.

“Amazing,” you told him, smiling. “You didn’t come up for your view though. How can I keep up my side of the bargain if you don’t meet me halfway?”

Steve smirked, “Cheeky. Still.”

You noticed he was still dressed nicely and you asked, “Do you want me to go change?” You had thrown on the suit he asked you to bring and a coverup over it.

“Absolutely not. You look fine.” Steve held his hand out for you and you took it. He was quiet, looking at you.

You got uncomfortable and asked, “What’s up?”

Steve looked over your shoulder and you followed his gaze seeing Tony walk in from outside. The two of them seemed to communicate without speaking and you repeated,

“What’s up?”

Steve’s attention was back on you and he asked, “So, you remember how you asked about Jared?”

“Um. Yes?”

“If you had the opportunity, would you want to see him before he died?” Your mouth fell open slightly, unable to find your voice, completely caught off guard. Steve stepped closer, and said, “I know how it feels to see someone who wronged you know they’re about to die.”

“He’s still alive?” you blurted.

“He’s here.”

You stammered, “E-excuse me? Here?” Your heart was beginning to pound.

“Don’t worry, he can’t get out,” Tony said quickly, holding up his hand to you. He saw you were threatening to unravel and he came closer. He explained gently, “And even if he could, he’s pretty dehydrated and he’s definitely starving, so he’s not going to be moving too fast anyway. Plus, you’ve got us here now and we won’t let anything happen to you?”

“What…” you said, trying to grasp what was going on.

Steve explained, “Found him a few days ago and kept him alive after we gave him a good beating. Wanted to give you the opportunity to watch it happen if you wanted to. You don’t have to. Just wanted you to have that chance.”

You were suspended in shock. You thought you were coming here to relax, get fucked a couple of times. And then just head back home. It dawned on you that second that this was the surprise that Steve must have been alluding to on the phone when you agreed to come here. Not the surprise you were expecting; not even in the realm of possibility.

Did you want that? Did you want to see him die? You swallowed sharply, flooded with the memories of all the times he had beat you, cheated on you. You hated to admit some part of you would like to actually watch him suffer. You could never do it yourself, not on your own. And now you had this golden opportunity to have it happen in a way that he would know it was because of you that it was happening.

“Y/N?”

You were taking a long time to answer.

“I…” you started to say, looking in between them. You exhaled slowly and admitted, “Yeah. Yeah.”

“You’re sure?” Tony asked. You nodded and he nodded in return. “Good. I think you should. Give you some closure.”

That seemed a little sadistic but you let them led you towards the door. They walked you out onto the dock that was lit by small lamps. The sunset was beautiful on the water, the waves glowing with the colors. It was a stark contrast to what you were walking out here to do, such a dark deed. There were a few men standing at the end of the dock and you made to stay closer to Tony, keeping an eye on them as you approached.

When you came to a stop, your eyes circled around the group. You immediately got worried, thinking the worst.

Nervously, you asked, “Where is he?”

Tony pointed down at the dock and you furrowed your brow in confusion. “Guys gotta be freezing in this water.”

“O-oh.”

Tony walked over towards the side of the dock where you saw there was a ladder. He began climbing down it and Steve gave you a little nudge. You walked over to the edge hesitantly and looked over. There was another lower dock there, a speedboat next to it. That made sense, this dock was pretty high. They definitely were not going to kill you, you tried to reassure yourself.

You forced yourself to climb down after Tony, his hands coming up to steady you as you got within his reach. You settled down next to him as soon as you saw they were telling the truth.

Jared was tied up to one of the pillars holding up the dock, his body half submerged into the water. He looked absolutely awful, close to death. His face was swollen, bruised. They had not lied about the beating either.

He seemed to recognize you and his eyes narrowed. Something kicked up in him and he shouted against the gag, hate in his eyes. You could not tear your eyes away from him.

“I personally love the sight,” Tony said, standing close. He lit up his cigar and took a long drag, his eyes raking over Jared.

Steve had climbed down now and was standing close as well.

You were still in shock seeing Jared yell at you, struggle against the binding. Tony was right, the water must be freezing.

Something came over you.

“Fuck me,” you said, not taking your eyes off of him.

“Pardon?” Tony asked, choking on his smoke a bit.

“Fuck me,” you repeated. Tony was staring at you, his finger running across his lip. You shrugged and added, “I want another man fucking me where his stupid ass can see it. Right before he dies. I want that to be one of the last thing he remembers. He hated the thought of another man touching me.”

“Shit,” Steve breathed, laughing lightly.

Your adrenaline was rushing now. “That’s what I want. I don’t want to actually see him die. I don’t think I could handle that but… I want this.”

There were a few moments of silence and you finally tore your eyes away from Jared to look at the two of them standing behind you.

“I won’t say no to that,” Steve said finally, grinning devilishly. “I’ll do the honors.”

You stared into Jared’s eyes, knowing you would never have to look at him again after this. You would never have to worry about him ever again because of Steve and Tony.

<><><>

The lobster you were chewing was decadent, too good to exist. You were buzzed now, having to take a couple shots after Steve got done plowing you and then you walked away, without a care, knowing damn well that someone was going to be murdered behind you. The shots had hit quickly on your empty stomach and luckily dinner had been delivered shortly after you had taken the shots. The three of you were sitting at a table on their dock, the table lit by tall lamps.

“You said you were coming back from a job?” Steve asked, before taking a bite of his steak. You eyed him confused and he chewed, swallowing. “That night.”

Revisiting this again. You did not want to think about it anymore tonight but considering the favor they had done, you pushed your uncomfortableness aside and nodded. “Yeah. Some Wall Street guy. Definitely a frat boy who never had to work a real job in his life. He had every drug imaginable ready to just offer up. Obviously I did not partake.”

You picked up your champagne, taking a swig before taking another bite of your lobster.

“No more of that,” Tony said flatly.

Eyes narrowed, you asked, “Frat boys or Wall Street? Cause I really don’t always get to choose.” Another bite. It was so delicious. You had to ask what restaurant it was from.

“Nobody.”

You stopped chewing. Your eyes moved between the two of them, sitting there looking stoic. “What?”

They both exchanged a look and you felt your stomach starting to tighten. There was something wrong; something bad was about to happen.

Steve answered this time, “Nobody else. Nobody but us.”

You almost asked if they were joking but you remembered Tatiana’s words about owing them. And the looks on their faces told you they were in no way joking around. You placed your fork down, straightening up. They were watching you with an uneasy intensity, gauging your reaction.

Giving a light, nervous laugh, you told them, “Uh, I mean… I kind of have other regulars.”

“Why would you feel the need to continue with other regulars?”

“T-t-to keep my options open?”

“That’s… insulting,” Tony chuckled, his smile not reaching his eyes though, turning his head to stare off into the water.

You felt cold, a tightness in your stomach. Insulting him was the last thing you wanted to do.

“What is this? What are we talking about?”

Steve shrugged, “I’m not sure what’s not clear about this, Y/N. You will work for us and us only. You get an actual apartment. Move out of the brothel. So it’s not as suspicious that we are visiting you. Then we will be able to visit you whenever we want and we won’t have to worry about an incident like this happening again. Or worry about you leaving.”

You could not believe what you were hearing. They could not be serious about this. To just upend your life to just be at their beck and call. And to prevent you from leaving if you wanted to? This situation was spiraling way too quickly.

“I don’t want to live by myself,” you argued.

“It won’t be some run-down building, Y/N,” Tony sighed, annoyance lacing his tone as he looked back at you. “You’ll have a doorman. And security.”

“So, you want me to just… depend on the two of you for income and for my housing? Nothing else?” you asked them, flabbergasted.

“That’s what you’re worried about?”

“What rational person wouldn’t be worried about that? I haven’t had the greatest track record with partners as you have seen yourself.”

Steve cocked his head, his eyes narrowing. You closed your mouth, knowing immediately you had said something out of pocket. “I don’t like what you’re insinuating about me. About us. Have we not been good to you?”

“I-I.. that’s not what I meant—”

“You think I’m going to hit you?” Steve asked harshly.

“No—” you stammered, your heart pounding in your chest. He looked irritated all to hell.

Tony held up his hand and Steve closed his mouth, still glowering at you across the table. You averted your gaze to Tony as he spoke.

“You’ll be perfectly fine wherever we set you down.”

Your voice was small, “I can’t even choose?”

“I would like somewhere in our jurisdiction for one. And then the doorman stipulation.” He saw you had shook your head ever so slightly, a reaction more than anything. Tony leaned across the table, staring directly into your eyes. It took everything in you to not look away and to not show fear. You felt like you were probably failing miserably at that. “I don’t think you understand fully what’s going on here, sweetheart, and that concerns me. You won’t have to trick anymore. No more uncertainty of who is taking you home. No more late-night walks. A steady income, your own place. Protection too furthermore; you’ll have at least one guard at all times. Why would you not want that?”

Logically. You would want this. You should want this. You begged them to screw you over your abusive ex hours ago. Practically egged them on to commit murder with acting the way you had. Everything he was saying was positive. But it was ignoring the fact that it sounded like you were going to be owned, your movements dictated by the two of them.

You licked your lips and offered weakly, “It’s not smart of me.”

“Why?”

“My line of business isn’t exactly about exclusivity.”

“Well, I guess you’re leaving that line of business then,” Tony said coolly.

There was not a choice here. You were being told.

You needed to get away from the table, away from their heated stares. You were swimming in anxiety. Standing up from the table abruptly, the chair squeaking, you took off. You did not know where to, you had nowhere to go. You just knew you wanted – needed – to be by yourself, to gather your thoughts.

By the sound of the heavy footfalls following you down the boardwalk, it did not seem you were going to be granted that. You broke into a run, knowing it was futile. There was no way you could outrun a super soldier. Steve caught you without any trouble whatsoever and pushed you up against the wall of the beach house.

“I don’t want to!” you exclaimed.

“It’s either here, secluded, under guard or in your new apartment under guard.”

Tears watered up in your eyes and you choked out, “You can’t do this.”

“I can’t do this?” Steve said, a flash of cruelty in his eyes and an amused smirk on his lips. He leaned in closer and said more quietly, “Dove, we run this city and you are a part of this city. Our favorite part actually and we are securing our favorite part for ourselves.” He stepped closer, glaring down his nose at you. You felt smothered against the wall by his imposing presence. “And that’s whether our favorite part likes it or not. Because we already own it because she owes us.”

~~~

Forever tags: @coconutqueen21

Fic tags: @icant-hangout-imdrumming, @oceaniamaddness, @multifandom-superlover, @imsonick, @holl2712

#tony stark x reader #steve rogers x reader #dark!tony stark #dark!steve rogers #dark marvel fic #dark tony stark #dark steve rogers #my shit

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ragingbookdragon · 3 years

Text

To Fear Or Not To Fear, That Is The Question PT. 1

Lantern!Reader x Lanternfamily

Word Count: 2.3K Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst, Mentions of PTSD

Author's Note: I wrote this story a while ago, but this ask made me post it! I'll get part two out sometime later! Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

She gripped the arm rests of her chair until her knuckles started to whiten, her heart pounded in her chest, so harshly against her rib cage that it began to hurt. The flashes spread across her mind, and she squeezed her eyes shut, forcing herself to breathe as the mantra, “You’re home” flowed through her lips, though it didn’t quell the violent shaking in her body.

Their faces darted through her mind, expressions frozen in mixtures of shock, pain, and fear. She could feel herself slipping back there, could feel the heat of the sun beating down on her body, the sliding of her limbs in the burning desert sand, the splattering of hot blood from her teammates wounds, the smell of gunmetal and oil, of sweat—it was all coming back again, so fast, and all she could do was hold on and force herself to ground.

She had no idea what had set off the attack, but she did know that she was able to turn the lights off and sit down before it immobilized her with tremors. Clenching her hands into fists, she forced herself to bend over, pressing her forehead to her knees.

You’re home, (Y/N). You’re not in Afghanistan anymore. You’re alive. You’re here. The memories are there, but you’re not. Relax. Focus. Keep it together. Don’t give in. Hold—

An explosion rocked the side of the house, sending her to the floor and she gasped, automatically covering her head, waiting for the impact of mortar rounds and grenades. Another explosion sounded, followed by a bellow, and (Y/N) lifted her head up, crawling on al fours to the window. Gripping the window ledge, she pulled herself up and peeked over, eyes widening at the sight of two glowing figures throwing punches back and forth.

One of them was covered in a green glow, the other an angry red. She held the ledge and watched as the red one socked the other in the chest and they hit the ground, holding out their arms to protect themselves. The attacker lifted their hands and to her shock, a crimson block appeared above them. In an instant, she knew who the enemy was.

Her eyes darted to the lock box sitting on the shelf and forcing herself to get up, she ran to it, yanking it open and grabbing the contents. She sprinted to the door and shoved the clip into the 357 Magnum, pulling back the slide before flipping the safety off. (Y/N) slung the door open and ran down the front steps, kneeling in the grass as she raised the gun and closed one eye, taking sight of the target before her. With an intake of breath, she unloaded all nine rounds into the back of the glowing red person.

She wasn’t sure if it took them down because they started spurting more of the acid like blood, but it was the opening that the person below them needed, because the next thing (Y/N) knew, a flash of green sent the bellowing red enemy sky-high and out of sight.

Her arms suddenly felt weak, and she let them go slack, the Magnum landing by her hip. A groan sounded from the person in green and she stumbled to her feet, hurrying on weak knees to them.

They were laying in the grass, and when she got there, her jaw went slack when she saw their legs blown off a few feet away. (Y/N) went to her knees, already yanking her sweatshirt off, starting to tie tourniquets around the amputated appendages.

“Hey,” she breathed when they groaned. “You’re gonna be okay. I’m here to help.”

They opened their eyes and she blinked at how bright and green they were. “It is too late.”

(Y/N) shook her head. “No. I’ll help you.” She swallowed the urge to vomit as the blue blood started soaking through her sweatshirt and on her hands. “You’re going to be okay.”

They reached out and grabbed her arm. “You must take my place.”

“I—what?” she asked, tying the knots tighter. “You need to get to a hospital. You’re bleeding out.”

“I have been bleeding out.” They laughed, blood splattering their chin. “Atrocitus’ minion has chased me long through the stars.”

“Atrocitus? Who?” (Y/N) shook her head. “Look, we need to get you help.”

“Your human healers cannot help me. I am at my end.” They squeezed her wrist. “You must take my place amongst the Green Lanterns. If the ring is left alone, someone could corrupt it.”

(Y/N) stared at them. “Rings? What?”

They raised their hand free hand and she saw a black band, a glowing green symbol in the center—she recognized the symbol; the Green Lantern in the Justice League wore it. Slipping it off, they handed it to her.

“Find the Four Corpsmen in this city. They will help you.”

(Y/N) shook her head. “No. Right now, I need to help you.” Her eyes hardened. “I don’t know anything about alien physiology, but I will save you.”

Their eyes narrowed fondly, and they whispered, “I can see the fear you hold in your heart…that you could not save the ones you were supposed to protect from your enemies.” They swallowed, coughing harshly. “You can overcome this fear.” Holding out the ring again, they said, “The ring will guide you to the Four Corpsmen.”

She took the ring, flipping it over in her hand, and she caught sight of a dim green inscription. Squinting, (Y/N) read, “In brightest day, in blackest night, no evil shall escape my sight. Let those who worship evil's might, beware my power—Green Lantern's light.”

The green ring suddenly moved on its own, sliding onto her finger and an otherworldly voice commanded, (Y/N) (L/N) of Earth. You have the ability to overcome great fear. Welcome to the Green Lantern Corps.

A warmth washed over her body, and she watched in shock as her clothes were replaced with a skintight black and green suit, but it didn’t feel restricting. It felt comfortable—it made her feel safe. A mask flashed across her eyes and when she looked down at the alien, their eyes had glazed over, mouth frozen in a smile.

(Y/N) felt her heart tighten and she breathed out, reaching over, gently closing their eyes. She stood from the body and wandered behind the house, returning with a shovel. It didn’t take long to dig out the hole and she was surprised that she wasn’t tired from the exertion as she lowered the body into it, before covering them with dirt and standing over the grave, her hands clasped together.

Wherever you’ve ended up, friend…I hope you’re at peace. She opened her eyes, a firm look in them. I’ll continue your mission.

She looked down at the ring on her finger, then up at the bright city in the distance. Gotta go into the city. (Y/N) turned and walked into the house, climbing the steps to her bedroom. Glancing down at the ring, she said, “Okay, ring. You gotta power down so I can change my clothes.”

Nothing happened and her brows furrowed.

“Power down?” Again nothing, and a bolt of irritation struck a nerve, and she clenched her fist, commanding, “Power down. Now.” The suit on her body faded and she sighed in relief. “Okay, so commands work.” (Y/N) moved into the shower. “Clean up first, then get dressed and leave.”

***

She kept to the back alleys of the city, which, given that it was nine o’clock, most of them were empty, still, she didn’t want to find trouble before she found the…what had the alien called them? Four Corpsmen?

(Y/N) shook er head and looked down at the ring on her finger. It hadn’t lit up again since she told it to stop. “Ring! Uh…show me where the Four Corpsmen are!”

The symbol in the middle lit up and a started making flashes, and in a panic, she shouted, “Do it inconspicuously!” A small green line slide along the ground and she smiled. “That’s better.”

Following it, she sprinted through the back streets until she came to a bar; she rolled her eyes. “Of course, they’re in a bar. What men.”

(Y/N) followed the line into the bar and when it disappeared, she blinked, looking around for whoever could fit the description of supposed Corpsmen. There were a few guys at the bar, a few playing pool, some at booths and tables…she had no idea who could possibly be who she was looking for.

Someone brushed past her with a small, “Excuse me, sweetheart.” Another dart of green appeared in her vision, and she saw it attached to his back as he flowed through the bar and to the back where a trio of young men were sitting. They cheered when he got back and he smiled, passing out four beers.

“Them?” she murmured to herself and before she could move, someone had her around the waist.

“Hey, babe. Lookin’ for company?”

(Y/N)’s face pinched, and she shrugged away from them. “No thanks. I’m not here for fun.”

“Now don’t be like that.” The guy reached for her and before he knew it, he found himself being slammed face first into a wooden post, collapsing down onto his back, out cold.

She happened to look up just as his friends were coming over from the pool table and she rolled her eyes, already lifting her hands, ready for a fight. Two came at her and she swiped a beer mug from a server, sloshing the beer in one’s face before she sidestepped, slamming the glass into the second’s head. (Y/N) flowed into the next step and threw her elbow out into the first’s throat. They both fell to the ground, and she tossed the handle aside, but before she could do anything, someone had her around the waist, hauling her up then slamming her down to the ground.

(Y/N) grunted as she lost her bearings, and somewhere over the noise and music of the bar, she heard more shouting, but she paid it no mind, scrambling to her feet when one of them shoved her backwards.

Someone caught her, shoving her back up, shouting, “Get your head in the game, lady! We got some assholes to lay flat!” Four men passed her, already throwing punches and spurred on, she threw herself back in the fight.

Within seconds, the bar fight was over, and she panted as the four guys leaned against the bar, all laughing, each picking up a beer mug to drink from. (Y/N) felt a bit worn and someone laid a hand on her shoulder.

“Hey, you good?”

She looked up at the man who had short cropped, ginger hair and nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Glancing at the others, she said, “Thanks for the assist.”

One of them held out a hand. “You fight like a soldier.”

“Former special ops. Navy corpsman.” She replied, eyeing the dog tags around his neck as she shook his hand firmly. “Sergeant.”

“John,” he corrected with a smile, then gestured to his friends. “That’s Guy, Kyle, and Hal.”

(Y/N) shook their hands too. “Name’s (Y/N).”

One of them, Kyle, handed her a beer. “So, what brought you to the bar besides the bar-fight?”

She gazed into the liquid. “Uh…I’m looking for someone…multiple people actually.” Her eyes fell on them again. “But in the haze of the fight, I lost sight of whoever it was.”

Hal sent her a wink. “We’d be glad to help out a beautiful lady like yourself.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, but since she didn’t have a better option, she murmured, “I’m looking for some men who are known as the ‘Four Corpsmen’.”

Immediately the mood shifted as their friendly faces dropped, all solemn as they looked at her. “Where did you hear that name?” John questioned and she met his gaze.

“I’m taking from the seriousness that you’re who I’m looking for then.” (Y/N) held out her hand. “The alien said you could help me with this…I don’t know how to work it.”

They all glanced down at her hand, well, the ring on her hand, eyes widening at the sight; Hal grabbed her wrist. “Where did you get this?”

“The alien. It was being attacked by something in red and I…” she looked away. “I shot it, but the alien, it…I couldn’t save it. Its wounds were too severe.” (Y/N) yanked her hand back, clenching it into a fist. “It told me to take its place amongst the Green Lanterns. To overcome my fear.” Swallowing thickly, she admitted, “I don’t how to do that…but it said you four could help me with it.”

She could tell the were mulling it over, quite possibly communicating with one another by the way they seemed to shoot each other looks, and she cracked a smile at how Guy cocked a brow and then gestured to her whilst looking at Kyle like he was an idiot.

But (Y/N) grew tired of their mental conversation and yanked the beer mug from Guy’s hand, ignoring his shout, and she down it before slamming it on the bar. “Look, I don’t what I’m supposed to do with this, and if I’m left to my own devices, I’ll probably do more damage than I would help people.” She stared them down. “Even if you don’t want to, help me so I don’t get innocent people killed.”

For a moment, they all looked at each other, then Guy reached over and pulled her around the neck, smirking at them. “I think she’s going to do great things with us, boys.”

Kyle winced. “Guy, maybe don’t put your arm around the woman who was former special forces?”

(Y/N) huffed a laugh. “Don’t worry…I can handle whatever you throw at me.”

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amazingmaeve · 3 years

Text

Cardigan ↠ Sirius Black

━ “i’ve missed you darling.”

summary ━ sirius and y/n were in love at hogwarts. then he cheated on her with her best friend marlene. a couple years later the two run into each other again.

warnings ━ angst, fluff, swearing, kissing

a/n ━ somewhat based on cardigan by taylor Swift, also no voldy au so lily and james are alive. Also one huge time jump.

word count ━ 3.6k

“Sirius stop,” Y/N giggles as she thrashes on the bed. Currently Sirius was ticking her as moments before they were studying. She was supposed to be helping him in one of his classes but he got distracted.

Sirius looked down at his girlfriend with a smile appearing on his face. He truly did love Y/N with all of his heart. He began to press kisses all over her face, stopping his tickling.

“You know I hate that,” Y/N says with a smile referring to the tickling. He knew all the spots that would make her break out in a laugh.

Y/N sometimes wondered how she got together with Sirius. Before they met he usually slept around a lot while she wanted to save her virginity for someone important.

They had gotten paired for a charms assignment. Y/N would never admit it she was quite nervous about being with Sirius. She’s had a crush on him since their first year but he never really noticed her as Y/N didn’t like to be noticed. She usually kept to herself.

Except for her best friend Marlene. She helped Y/N and was always nice to her. She gave her the best advice that a friend could even ask for.

When the two started talking they realized that they had much more in common than Y/N thought. She thought Sirius Black was a narcissist fuck boy.

Y/N found out that he was witty, charming, and surprisingly nice to her.

Sirius always thought that Y/N was just some stuck up girl that thought she was too good for anyone. She came from a pureblood family so when she never talked to anyone he thought she was a pureblood supremacist. He found out that Y/N was smart, shy and didn’t like to have friends.

Sirius and Y/N started to enjoy the time they spent together. But the assignment would make them stop having interaction with each other.

Even after the homework they had done Sirius and Y/N decided to hang out more and soon more feelings developed. Y/N, who already had an attraction towards him, started to emotionally connect to him. Sirius, who thought Y/N was already hot, started to sympathize with her and her family problems since he had the same.

Soon Y/N met Remus, James, Peter, and Lily and soon started to connect with one another.

Sirius asked her out after James and Remus encouraged him to do so when the two figured out that his friend had feelings for the girl.

Y/N was on cloud nine when Sirius asked her out for the first time. At first she thought he was just planking her but soon realized he was very serious. With butterflies in her stomach she said yes to his question while a smile graced her lips.

Their first date was at Hogsmeade and it was magical to Y/N. Sirius kept making flirty comments all night making her feel more and more nervous.

The two talked and got to know each other more and at the end of the night Sirius kissed her before parting to their own rooms.

That night Y/N laid down with a dopey smile on her face. She felt the butterflies erupting in her stomach but she didn’t care. She felt like she was falling in love every second.

“I love you darling,” Sirius says softly as he lays on top of Y/N. She can feel the heat rise to her chest and cheeks.

“I love you more,” Y/N laughs her arms coming up to wrap around his neck. She gives him a cheeky smile playing with his hair on the back of his neck.

“Not possible,” Sirius says in disbelief. She was the light to his darkness in his life and he would never trade that.

“Uh how do you know,” Y/N asks as she sits up pulling him to a seating position. Her eyebrows furrowed in stubbornness.

“I just do,” Sirius says cockily and pulls her into a kiss straight after.

After the kiss she lays her head on his chest. Sirius pulls her hand to his intertwining their fingers.

They just lay there with Y/N on Sirius’s chest in a comfortable silence. His heartbeat calmed her down as she fell asleep on the boy's chest. Once realizing she’s asleep, Sirius kisses her forehead before attempting to leave her bed.

Only he couldn’t. Y/N had such a grip on him which made him stay. Sirius wrapped his arms around her and eventually fell asleep himself.

A few weeks later Y/N was alone in her bed wrapped in the blankets since it was especially cold. She let out a sigh as she rested her head on the pillow.

The night before the Gryffindors had thrown a party where everyone was drinking from the victory of the quidditch match. It wasn’t that much fun to Y/N.

Her and Sirius were supposed to have a date that night and she understood going to the party. But she’d expect him to at least talk to her that night.

Sirius spent most of the night talking and laughing to his friends. Y/N also saw him flirting with her best friend Marlene and she yelled at them before storming to her bed room.

She laid down and cried herself to sleep.

Now as she lays on her bed she might have blown things out of proportion. Maybe they were just talking and Y/N was just extremely jealous. Making something out of nothing she thought to herself.

She got up and got ready for her classes. It was early but Y/N wanted to go and see Sirius and apologize to him before classes began. She didn’t want her relationship with Sirius to be over because of one little spat.

Y/N treads across the floor to the boys room hoping that the other marauders were awake and somewhere else. Luckily she saw them walk to the main hall avoiding eye contact. That made her confused but she shook it off.

She sighed as she touched the door handle. She didn’t know what to say to him. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t mean to be a jealous girlfriend’ would that work? Hopefully she thought.

Y/N turned the door knob with a smile to greet Sirius with. The smile quickly faded as she noticed someone else in the bed with him.

“Sirius,” Y/N snapped loudly as the boy was still sleeping. He groaned cuddling into the girl even more making Y/N more and more angry. Once she got a look at the girl Y/N scoffed as she saw Marlene.

“Go away prongs I’m tired,” Sirius groaned thinking it was James.

Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Sirius,” Y/N yelled louder, her voice full of anger seeing the boy she was in love with and one of her best friends in bed. She had mixed emotions, sadness and anger were the main ones.

Y/N could see Sirius' eyes widen in shock as he realizes he’s not cuddling with the girl he’s in love with. And the girl who has his heart is standing at the foot of the bed with anger written on her face.

Marlene and Sirius move apart noticing the girl.

“Love this isn’t-,” Sirius began to defend himself and got his boxers on but was soon interrupted. Meanwhile Marlene got her clothes on and left knowing the two need to talk.

“Stop,” Y/N snaps. Her voice is harsh which makes Sirius flinch at the tone. “I just want to know one thing,” She asks, her voice dripping in sadness.

Sirius’s eyes stay on his lap not wanting to meet her gaze. He most importantly didn’t want to see the tears that were gonna form.

“Did you ever even love me,” She asks, feeling drained. That question makes Sirius’s head snap up and pull himself to his feet.

“Of course I do love, I do still love you,” Sirius admits, walking over to put his hands on her cheek. She moves her face away from his hands which makes his face sadden even more.

“I can’t believe that I was gonna apologize for being a jealous girlfriend. Turns out my instincts were right,” Y/N bites her lip to keep her tears in. She doesn’t want to cry in front of him.

“You don’t have to apologize for anything,” Sirius tries to reassure getting his school clothes on.

“We’re done,” Y/N snaps as she walks out of the room slamming the door making Sirius flinch again.

Sirius sighs and sits on his bed putting his hand in his face as tears gather. He didn’t mean for it to happen. It was just one drunken mistake.

When Y/N yelled at him he thought a good idea was to sleep with Marlene. That was his drunken reasoning. He can’t believe he did this. He hurt the person he most cares about and he can’t even do anything about it.

Sirius ran his fingers through his hair out of frustration. He ruined everything.

The rest of the day went by slow since Y/N had all of her classes with Sirius. It was hard seeing him and not talking to him. Marlene tried apologizing multiple times but Y/N shut it down not wanting to hear anymore excuses.

After a long day of school and avoiding people she realized that it was close to the end of her last year which was good. But the thought of not seeing Sirius still made her sad but quickly shut those thoughts.

She couldn’t keep thinking of Sirius. It hurt to think but Y/N was still in love with him which made some tears start to fall.

Luckily she was in the common room and most people were at Hogsmeade celebrating the end of the year. Y/N was happy since she took her N.E.W.T.s, which was hard since she took 8 of them, but she got significantly good grades. Even the good news of that didn’t make her feel any better.

She sat on the sofa putting her head in her hands letting the tears finally fall. She hated Sirius so much but Y/N couldn’t just stop loving him. He was in her life for a year and she can’t just erase that as much as she’d like to.

As Y/N quietly sobs into her hands Remus enters the room wanting to turn in for the night. But he stopped in his tracks as he saw her crying.

Remus knew the reason Y/N was crying. He cursed his best friend for breaking her heart and doing this to her.

He sighed and walked around to the couch to sit next to her. Remus opened his arms out for her. She accepts and lunges into his open arms crying into his chest.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Remus reassures using his fingers to put some of her hair behind her ear. She continues to cry through the heartbreak, her arms right around his waist.

“It hurts so much,” Y/N sniffles leaning up from his chest. Her eyes puffy and wet from the sobbing. “I thought he loved me.”

“He does, I know it,” Remus reassures her sternly. He knows Sirius screwed everything but Remus also knows that Sirius loves her and it was a mistake.

“He cheated on me. He broke my heart, my trust. How can you defend him,” Y/N looks at him in disbelief. When her and Sirius got together, he knew that she was a virgin and wanted to wait for someone who was special. And Y/N thought Sirius was that guy and she was going to let him.

Luckily she didn’t.

“He’s my best friend of course I’m going to defend him, but I’m not going to let him get a free ride for screwing up,” Remus explains softly and Y/N gets up as she scoffs.

“I can’t forgive him I just can’t,” Y/N whispers before walking away from Remus leaving him to think all alone.

Soon the ending of the year came and just like that four years passed.

For the last four years Y/N got a job as curse breaker and enjoyed the job. Other than that she didn’t do much, she didn’t have any friends except from work. She never got a boyfriend not trusting any guy that could potentially break her heart.

For a little while she kept in touch with James, Lily, and Remus. But soon enough they stopped calling so Y/N focused on her work.

Oftentimes she wondered what Sirius was doing, she also wondered what it would be like if he didn’t cheat on her. Would things be different? Would they be together? This is what Y/N usually thought about at night.

She shook those thoughts out thinking Sirius probably found a girlfriend and moved on. Y/N always thought she could move on but the wound Sirius left was big and no one could heal it so far.

So Y/N gave up on love at the moment.

After a long day at work she enters her flat. She stretches her arms and yawns, it was a hard day at work and very tiring. She sits on her bed and notices a note on the table besides her bed.

She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. She reached her arm out to grab it and opened it. As Y/N read the letter she sighed as the words flowed in her mind.

A fucking reunion.

A reunion for all the people at Hogwarts and it was at Lily and James potters house. Y/N sat there for a few minutes contemplating on what to do. This could let her reunite with her teachers who were always proud of her. But on the other hand Sirius was probably going to be there and she wasn’t sure if she was ready for that.

She puts the letter down and runs her fingers through her fingers getting some of the tiny knots out. Fuck it she thinks. She’ll go. It’s a risk but hopefully it’ll be fun.

A few weeks later Y/N stands in front of James and Lily’s house straightening her dress out. The last weeks were stressful but luckily work kept her busy most of the time. At night she thinks, what will I do if I see Sirius. Run the opposite direction suggests to herself but rolls her eyes thinking she’s crazy for talking to herself.

She tried making herself look presentable and hopefully succeeded. She sighed as she raised her hand to knock on the door. It took a few minutes before someone answered and that someone was the one and only Sirius Black.

His smile soon faded as he saw who was at the door. In her head this was the worst luck that could have ever happened to her.

“Can I come in,” Y/N asks as politely as she can. Sirius nods opening the door wider to let the girl inside. As soon as she’s in she gets as far away from him as possible.

“Y/N you made it,” Lily says surprised as Y/N runs into her.

“Yep thought I might show up,” Y/N says awkwardly rocking on her heels. She shouldn’t have come think to herself. “Well I’ve got to use the toilet,” She says before running off to the bathroom.

She locks the door with a sigh. Y/N looks at herself in the mirror. She’s already ran into two people she didn’t want to see. This night couldn’t get any worse.

She takes a seat on the toilet rubbing her fingers through her hair feeling stressed out. God it’s going to be a long night. Before she leaves the bathroom she redos her makeup so it looks better after messing it up.

Once she opens the door she paints a smile on her face to pretend she wasn’t having a freak out moment.

For the rest of the night she avoids the marauders by talking to some teachers who wanted to know what she was doing now. And Y/N thought that was it nothing interesting was going to happen that night.

How wrong was she.

Y/N thought she should apologize to Lily for being so flighty so she looks through the rooms to see if the redhead is anywhere. What she finds is worse.

She opens a door to this room and sees Sirius making out with Marlene.

“Oh god I’m so sorry,” Y/N gasps running out of the room. Of course they got together. They would be a much better couple than they ever did.

Y/N knows she shouldn’t be upset. Her and Sirius were broken up; she can’t feel like this. Hopefully they’ll work out better than her and Sirius ever did.

After that Y/N couldn’t be there anymore. She didn’t want to talk to Sirius and it to be awkward so she left and apparated to her flat, she got her heels off. They were killing her feet all night and she sighs in relief as they come off.

She gets her sweat pants and t-shirt on and gets settled into bed processing everything that went on that night. Sirius and Marlene come to mind. Instead of being spiteful she hopes they have a good life and that she can finally move on from Sirius and be happy herself.

In the next week Lily calls surprising Y/N. She didn’t think Lily would like to talk to her after her and Sirius were over.

They scheduled a lunch at her house to talk and catch up since they couldn’t at the party. Y/N couldn’t say no, Lily was being so nice to her and she didn’t want to be a bitch.

“I can’t believe you have a kid,” Y/N happily laughs as she sees Lily with her son Harry. He was only a few months old.

“I can’t either, life goes on so fast,” Lily smiles, kissing the top of Harry’s head as he sits in her lap. “Now that you know what I’ve been up to, what have you been doing these past four years,” She asks curiosity gleaming in her eyes.

“Well I became a curse breaker,” Y/N fiddles with her fingers in her lap.

“Anyone special in your life,” Lily asks, taking a sip of her tea. Y/N sighs not wanting to say what a colossal failure her love life has been.

“Nothing much haven’t caught a guy's heart,” Y/N half jokes with a laugh. “But I just want to focus on my job,” She says in a more serious tone, looking Lily in her green orbs.

“Sirius asks about you,” Lily brings up the boy.

“I don’t understand why I saw him making out with Marlene at the party,” Y/N asks confused, why would Sirius ask about her when he’s dating someone else.

“They aren’t dating, it's just a friends with benefits thing,” Lily corrects. After Sirius broke Y/N’s heart she was mad at him for some time but soon realized that he knew what mistake he made. Lily knows he still loves Y/N, he just made a mistake.

Before Y/N could say anything, the door to the house opened as booming laughter came through the halls.

“Lily sweetheart-,” James calls out, entering the room and stops talking after seeing Y/N sitting there. Sirius and Remus follow soon after and Sirius can feel his heart stop as he sees Y/N sitting there.

An awkward silence flows across the room as Y/N keeps her eyes on the ground not wanting to meet Sirius’s eyes.

“We’ll give you some space,” Lily says comfortingly, taking baby Harry with her. When Remus or James don’t follow Lily comes back and hits them on the back of their heads. “Now,” Lily says sternly.

“I thought you loved me,” James says sarcastically following his love with Remus following him chuckling at his friend.

As soon as the three leaves Sirius makes his way towards the couch sitting next to Y/N whose eyes are still watching the ground. Sirius put his hand on hers the one on the couch.

“What do you want Sirius,” Y/N asks, tears gathering in her eyes. Sirius gives her hand a squeeze making her look up. He removes his hand from hers to put it on her cheek wiping the one tear that fell away.

“I’m sorry,” Sirius apologizes.

“Sirius it’s been years you don’t need to apologize all over again,” Y/N scoffs.

“Please just let me get this out and then you don’t have to see me ever again okay,” Sirius asks softly and Y/N hesitantly nods. “For the past years I regret not trying harder to get you back. And I know that you probably wouldn’t have taken me back but I should've tried. You were the love of my life, still the love of my life. I shouldn’t have let you down like this,” Sirius goes on and Y/N feels the same butterflies in her stomach from the first day she spoke to him.

“What about Marlene,” Y/N asks, remembering the party. Lily explained it to her; she just wanted to make sure she wasn’t covering for Sirius.

“Just a fling,” Sirius nervously chuckles. “You think we can try again,” He asks nervousness crawling in his stomach.

“Yes,” Y/N says a few seconds after he spoke. His eyes light up but Y/N puts her finger up. “But we take it slowly, we shouldn’t rush into this,” She explains. Sirius nods agreeing with her.

Sirius brings her into a hug. Y/N didn’t hug back at first but finally sank into his arms, resting her head on his chest. She can feel his heartbeat which calms the butterflies in her stomach.

“I’ve missed you darling.”

#sirius black blurb #sirius black one shot #sirius black smut #sirius black headcanon #sirius black imagine #sirius black x oc #sirius black x reader #sirius black #marauders #harry potter x reader #Harry Potter

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amethystpath-writes · 3 years

Text

P2 A Prisoner of Balconies

You guys and @gingerly-writing liked the soldier (from this) who was barely mentioned, right? Pretty sure you did, and you might still. 👀

******

The great hall shouldn’t have been so festive, shouldn’t have been adorned with newly designed banners and recently commissioned paintings. It made Arsyisa’s stomach twist, her throat close, palms sweat, hair fall out. Everything that could go wrong with her body simply was- all because of...well, it couldn’t be summed up so easily, could it be?

There was the fact that Arsy was sat- rather, placed, deliberately next to the general, Hytin. She was stuffed in a dress of his designated colour. Crowded in by dozens of betrayers. Warm in her dress, and overheated by the steam rising off her meal.

On top of that heaping mess, Arsy’s family was dead. Her mother, father, and two younger brothers. They were gone. Nothing could ever change that fact- and actually, the fact could only become worse as Hytin was replacing every tie to the royal family with himself. Well, every tie except for Arsy herself.

Why didn’t he kill her? Why didn’t he-

(Keep reading)

Oh, it didn’t matter. Not when Arsy’s...not when the soldier across from her was still alive. If Hytin ever decided he did want to kill Arsyisa- for whatever demented reason he came up with- the princess couldn’t keep her- the- soldier safe anymore. Was it possible the soldier was the only one who knew about the siege?

That only brought a hot bout of anger in Arsy’s body- her ears, hands, cheeks. Had the soldier known about General Hytin’s plan to kill the royal family? Was that why he’d been so persistent about beginning training?

The thought made Arsy sick. Because if he did know, he should have told her, should have warned her, prepared her- and not in the physical sense that he seemed fond of.

He must have understood the idea of mental stress, or else he wouldn’t have found a way to protect Arsyisa at all. He would have let her die even though he disagreed with Hytin’s pursuit of command. But, Arsy meant something to the soldier, and he knew he couldn’t handle the grief should the general decide to take her life.

So, why did he expect Arsy to be able to handle her entire family’s deaths?

This was torturous. Everything. Everything was falling apart, crumpling onto a teetering floor, which made keeping one’s thoughts together nearly impossible.

A fire landed on the princess’ thigh and she gave a light gasp before sending an apologetic look towards everyone near her at the table. It had only been General Hytin’s hand.

Only. As if it couldn’t be worse. She couldn’t get used to this...this life- not with the general of all people.

“You were asked a question, my dear.” Looking to Hytin now, Arsyisa noticed him glancing at the rest of the table, a wicked smirk pulling at the corners of his lips. This was a game to him, to the rest of the table. They were all playing with her, expecting responses only because it meant torturing her further. “I would answer for you, but I feel it is not my place to do so.”

I am a respectable man, she could almost hear him saying.

Arsy whispered, looking across the table at...at the soldier. “I apologize,” she said, and glanced at the others- at the betrayers, the misleaders. “I- I was distracted.” But they already knew that. Why were they making her say it?

Hand still warm on Arsy’s thigh, Hytin reiterated for whoever decided to worsen the princess’ misery, “How are you going to feel about moving into the..." The general's eyebrows jumped. "...former king and queen's chambers?"

"I have decided," Arsyisa nearly seethed, "to stay in my own and original quarters."

Fingers pushed into Arsy's leg. "Did you, now?" His voice didn't need to change to one of innocence. This whole table knew Hytin. They knew the general was manipulating her answers.

It wasn't the voice which worked, but again, the person across from Arsy. The soldier. “Change is difficult now, as you can imagine. I do not feel ready to move on quite yet,” She added, knowing what the general’s response would be if she didn’t, “but I will.”

Looking at the table, at all the new faces which she’d either never seen before, or only did briefly in days of her childhood, Arsyisa stood, chair scooting back with a loud screech. “I think- think I need a moment. Just outside the doors. I won’t stray far,” Arsy said. “I only need a...” She searched for a word which wouldn’t upset Hytin, wouldn’t make him retaliate in some way. “A break.” Not a reprieve.

Arsy couldn’t treat her interactions with Hytin like a punishment or else he would truly deliver them. He would take it out on the soldier, the soldier whose name Arsy was too frightened to speak, or even think, because doing either would further the attachment she had to him instead of to the general.

“I can follow,” the soldier across from the princess said, “as guard.” He began to stand, but Arsy shook her head.

“No, I can take someone else. You are here as a guest”- she glanced at Hytin briefly enough that she couldn’t even read his face- “so eat.” In truth, she would have preferred she take him, but...well, it couldn’t work like that. The general would never allow for the only non-conspirator in the room to-

“He may go. I cannot think of a better skilled man to defend the future queen should something happen.”

A flurry of emotions swirled in Arsy’s gut at Hytin’s words. Words like threat, mercy, control flitted at the back of her mind. Aloud, she almost asked the general, ‘Why?’ Because it didn’t make sense, not at all. Why would Hytin allow her time with someone- with someone she loved? And alone, at that.

But how could she argue? If that was how the general wished for it to be, then there was nothing to be said. Of course, she was the next queen of the kingdom, but...but that didn’t mean anything against an entire table’s worth of conspiracy and betrayal and murder.

And anyways, it couldn’t have been so terrible. This might have been the only moment Arsy would ever be given with the soldier. Maybe it truly was mercy that Hytin was offering- not some ploy to play with Arsyisa’s heart, thus tormenting her more than she was being already.

“Very well. I suppose I should make it quick or else your food will go cold.”

“I suppose we should.”

We. Arsy drew in a breath- one of both anticipation of a moment with him, and also in fear of the meaning of that word. Because Arsyisa couldn’t be ‘we’ with the soldier. That word was reserved for General Hytin.

Either way, Arsy began making her way towards the double doors which would lead her to the hall. As she made her way, and the soldier did on his end of the table, the princess watched Hytin, who only held up his glass and gave a mock smile. “Fresh breezes, my love.”

Her lip lifted discreetly as she turned back to the doors, steps meeting the soldier’s just in time. They linked elbows.

“I feel a little offended,” the soldier whispered, lips curled up- not in spite, but in tease, “that you tried to desert me back there.”

The muscles in Arsyisa’s arm tightened as the two approached the doors.

“Oh, how regrettably shameful I feel,” she returned, voice a touch lighter than it had been when she was sat at the table. Arsy didn’t notice the difference in her voice, but anyone else would have seen the girlish fascination in it now.

What the princess did notice...was the levitation she felt at being able to be so near her soldier again. That’s right. Her soldier. In this moment, this present moment, when her arm was wrapped around his, they could embrace one another. Not in a hug, not in a physical sense, but in theory. They belonged with one another in theory.

As the doors opened, the princess stole just one last glance at Hytin. Maybe, she thought, this can be the last time I ever see him. The likelihood of it was small, and she knew that if the general ever caught her trying to escape, then...then her soldier would be...would be hurt, at the very least. Arsy didn’t try thinking about the details of what could happen.

“I would have made you my king,” Arsyisa told as the doors shut behind them.

She listened to her soldier take a deep breath before pushing it out. It sounded like a heavy weight, and yet, there still seemed to be more. “You look beautiful.”

Arsyisa squinted. “You only say that when you have nothing else to say. I thought there would have been-” Arsy shook her head. “There is plenty more to say after...after all that has happened.”

‘You look beautiful.’ How dare he? How dare he volunteer to walk out with Arsy if he had nothing to say; no condolences, or- or apologies. Apologies.

“Did you know?”

Their steps paused as the soldier faced her. “Did I know what?”

Arsy’s voice turned stone-cold. She rose a brow as she pulled away from her soldier. “Medaris.”

His jaw ticked. Medaris swallowed. “I knew, and I”- he licked his lips- “your family was aware of it, as well. I told them...about...about the revolution.”

“You- what do you mean they-”

Medaris reached for her hands, trying to comfort her, trying to be there for her, but Arsy couldn’t handle the nearness right now. She shook her head, stepping back and away from her soldier- her soldier who knew about the attack. “You could have stopped it- could have gotten us out of here. What were you- why didn’t you help!”

Maybe she knew that Medaris couldn’t have stopped the entire attack, but if he knew it was happening, if he knew soldier upon soldier was going to barge into the palace, he could have told Arsy, could have- “You told my family? My mother and father?”

It didn’t matter that they were just outside the dining room’s doors, that there was a high possibility they were heard. Arsy needed to know.

“As soon as I heard about it, I brought it to their attentions. Came back with evidence as I found it.”

“But then why...they let themselves be killed, Daris. They let”- she blinked- “they let my brothers be killed. Why? Why couldn’t we have just run?”

Taking a step towards her again, Medaris told the princess, hands held out to her, “I don’t have an answer from them, but I can give you a reasonable assumption.”

For some reason, Arsy found herself accepting her soldier’s offered hands. Perhaps even she knew she needed someone to be there for her. Hytin certainly would never be, not in this way, not seriously, and certainly not in such the caring way which Arsyisa required.

“You know the general.”

Arsy nodded.

“And you know he’ll stop at nothing to get what he wants.”

She nodded again.

“Your family was doomed from the moment Hytin realized he could gain greedy support.” Medaris squeezed his love’s hands gently, drawing a line over the back of her knuckles. “Hytin was intelligent enough to bring several men to the king’s quarters, and seeing as your mother was never trained, well...”

Medaris’ own trained voice wasn’t helping very much. Him holding Arsyisa’s hands was, sure, but the way he spoke so...so strategically only made Arsy’s perception of her own life teeter. It was as if she were reading a book of her own life.

“And my brothers were too young, too- too weak, even with training.” She swallowed and her head shook. “They asked you to train me, didn’t they? My parents?”

With a nod of the head, Medaris stopped his stroking thumb.

Too bad it wasn’t enough. Arsy recalled the moment General Hytin swatted the dagger right out of her hand after coming to her room and balcony just days ago.

“I wanted to train you to begin with; all in fun and game, but...” Medaris shrugged. “It seemed like I would be overstepping my boundaries as a measly soldier. I am no nobleman.”

“My mother likes you,” Arsy said, before realizing the error in her statement. “Liked you,” she corrected quietly. Her hands fell from Medaris’ as the reality set in even further. “We should go back. Before Hytin has me dragged back, you know?”

He nodded again, but still made no move towards the door. “Why do you- um- why do you think he wants to...to keep you?”

As the soldier between the two of them, Medaris should have known the answer himself, should have been able to dive deep into a fellow soldier’s mind and pick it apart. Maybe it was because he knew Arsyisa, and because he knew her, it was impossible to see her from another perspective.

See, Medaris never saw Arsy as a princess. To him, she was just a girl.

A pretty girl with her head held high. One excited to talk to the soldiers about where they came from and if training had been easy or hard for the day. One who wasn’t necessarily ‘one of the boys,’ but was willingly friends with them, making sure they were okay, and rough housing with them as best she could. Arsy was dainty by noble demand, but she broke away from it as much as she could.

“You cannot be a king without a queen,” Arsy explained. Truthfully, she didn’t have an answer to this question until Medaris asked, and it clicked. “Sure, he could command any girl to marry him, but it would have no impact, and it would hardly be believable. I am the princess, thankfully saved, and by the local general. With me, he has the excuse to be evil. With me, he can-”

With her, Hytin could manipulate the situation through her. He already made her announce to the nearby villages that...Arsy swallowed thinking about it.

True, Arsy could reject the orders Hytin gave her, but then...

Hytin forced her to have random citizens executed, only to cover up his own crimes. Executed, not just imprisoned. He had her announce their treatment- their torture.

If anyone would be the bad guy, it would be Arsyisa, but the public would accept it, because it was revenge, and because they believed the royal family deserved vengeance.

Without another word, Arsyisa wrapped her arms above Medaris’ waist, holding him close. “Promise me you will not do anything to get yourself harmed.”

Medaris squinted above the princess’ head. Was that why she’d been so cautious around everyone recently, sending him small glances, and apologizing to him when spacing out instead of the rest of the table? Had Hytin threatened to hurt him if Arsy didn’t do as he demanded?

“Why?”

“What do you mean ‘Why?’” Arsyisa scoffed against her soldier lover. “I just want to know that you will be safe, that I will not have to worry about losing someone else that I love.”

“Okay,” Medaris promised. “I won’t allow stupidity to take over my senses.” She began to pull away, but he kept her close. “I want you to promise the same.” Medaris knew his princess wasn’t one for such brutality which she was displaying to the villages. As heartbroken as she was, she wasn’t a killer- even if it were for punishment and revenge.

“We need to go. Hytin will suspect something.”

“Promise me, Arsyisa. Do not allow yourself this change.”

She shook her head. “Medaris,” she whispered brokenly, “I am doing what I must; that is all.”

“You are allowing for your image to change.”

“So what if I am!”

When she pulled away this time, Medaris let her step back. He still wanted her promise, but- well, it seemed as though it was going to be more complicated than saying, ‘I promise.’

“I am doing whatever I need in order to maintain safety.”

“For who?” Medaris questioned. “Because it is certainly not for the villages. That much is evident.” He watched her, her facial features and how they shifted to reveal panic and worry. He wanted to hold her again, make her feel at ease with herself.

“For you,” she admitted, a little coldly. “I am doing this for you, and you are going to let me- because if you do not, I will hate you.” It was the worse threat she could think of. “I will hate you for as long as I live and you do not. He will kill you, Daris. He will if I fail him.”

“Let him try.”

Something glinted on Arsy’s cheek. A tear. “You promised,” she quaked after a silent moment. “You already promised me.”

“Then hate me, Arsyisa- because I will not allow you to live by this fear. I will kill the bastard if it is the only way you, or any of us, will be free of him, you hear me? I will shred him to pieces.”

******

@tears-and-lilies @moose-teeth @sableflynn @all-whumped-out @watercolorfreckles (tagging you guys out of your interest in the first part. I do plan on continuing this as a series so if anyone would like to be added or removed from the tag list, don’t hesitate to let me know! :) )

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commanderserwin · 4 years

Text

here, now.

✧ characters. levi ackerman x reader

✧ notes. a soulmate au that is super self-indulgent i love soulmate aus i love soulmate aus i love soulmate aus— and i hope you will enjoy too!

✧ summary. “you are my responsibility! for fuck’s sake, you are on my skin! i can feel you! we’re bound, literally.”

a. you can feel a tug from wherever your soulmate is. these may either be automatic, or have stronger tugs whenever your soulmate is in distress.

b. initials on their skin.

It wasn’t unusual anymore when it has kept you on the bed, staring ahead, breathing hard to calm yourself down. It wasn’t new anymore. It has been happening for years and you’ve had enough practice to get use to it. But no matter how steady your breaths have become, their tugs didn’t become any gentler. It felt like a sting— on your hands, arms, feet, even at your fingers, it climbed like an ant on your skin, biting as it goes. But the bites weren’t there.

Their tugs would stop. It would usually stop in the mornings, but it would never get easier during the afternoons and evenings. It was when the tugs were a little heavy and intimidating because it signaled on your end that something was bothering them. You can’t communicate through the tugs. It was just the emotions, extreme distress, like a smoke signal.

The sheets on your hands has crumbled while you closed your eyes thinking of anything good. The smell wafting through the window as your neighbor cooked an extravagant meal, the little cheers of the children from the other house, or even how soft your pillows are as the tugs ceased.

“I’m going to find them,” you scowled through the sunny morning, almost like a mantra to be said everyday.

You have no idea who it might be. The tugs started late as it seeped through you being that the universe has finally wrote your destiny. Although, the universe has already started on your skin long before the tugs has began.

Their initial sits just at the joint of your shoulder and the end of your collarbone, the red letter tattooed on the soft spot.

There are hundreds and hundreds of possible men and women whose names starts with that letter, but you are so determined to find who’s at the end of your own tugs because theirs were just insufferable. It would go on hours and you’d be left too busy with handling it. Even wishing that it would stop— but whenever it does, it makes your toes curl because if it stops, you don’t even know if there are still there.

Their initial was there but it just sits there whereas the tugs lets you know that they are there.

So you have deduced it into someone who works in impossible tasks— hard and excruciating, so you have narrowed it down to somebody in the Military. It was a reach, but it was better than anything.

The Military Brigade feels empty. They roam the streets and they empty.

The Garrison feels closer. Although they feel nothing.

The Survey Corps feels different— like something is alive as it pulls you towards it.

“L,” you whispered to yourself as you threw the covers off of your body, paddling towards the dainty kitchen to get your day ready for searching like a detective yet again. “Oh, I am going to find you, L.”

The kettle whistled in its agreement as you perched on top of your countertop, swinging your feet— and then it tugged.

“This early?” You blew on your hot cup of tea as it warmed your throat, making squint in wonder. “What are you worried for? I just got out of bed and it’s a wonderful morning—,”

It tugged.

“Fine,” you jumped down, stomping down your feet towards the bathroom as you took your clothes off, testing the waters to begin your day. You stared at yourself in the mirror, always capturing the scowl on your mouth as it tugged. “I’m coming for you.”

Nobody told you that finding somebody in the Survey Corps was a struggle. Finding someone in a sea of somebodies was hard enough, and you only have it down to their initial to help you.

Their base feels intimidating. The number of soldiers training makes you feel small, watching them kick and punch— lurch around in their gear made you worried because you looked so out of place. The finest fabrics in the plaza you adorned on your body has turned into rags as the mud settled on the ends of your trousers as it touched the ground. Your shoes squelch underneath the soft ground, and you groaned inside, finding a concrete place to rest. You ignored their looks as you flicked the dried mud off of your trousers, cursing yourself through it.

And it tugged, so you just have to power through it.

“Are you lost?” Somebody spoke from behind you, and they bent down to meet your eyes as you were frozen in place. Their eyes met yours in curiosity and you slowly stood up straighter, clearing your throat.

“I’m looking for somebody.”

“I can help you with that,” the young soldier nodded, smiling as he tilted his head. “What’s their name?”

What is their name?

“Uhm,” you gulped, clasping your hands behind you while you looked beyond him. There was a crowd of young soldiers fighting, a couple of older ones talking within themselves— so what is their name. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“Yes,” you nodded, shrugging your shoulders, “I do have their initial—,”

“Soulmates?”

“Yes!” You exclaimed a little loud as the audience behind turned their heads toward you. The soldier shook his head, a shy smile on his lips as he saw how flustered you are. “It starts with L.”

The young soldier pondered, nibbling his lips as he cocked his head towards a small building. He looked back and forth, contemplating if he should say anything. In the end, he couldn’t miss the way your lips quivered in perfect play, and he finally surrendered.

“I could think of people but you may want to start with our captain,” the soldier explained as he stood a little straight. “On that building, the hallway to your left, and the door on your second.”

The information hit too close to home, and it felt immediately closer and heavier because they could be right at that building, the hallway to your left, and the door on your second as you repeated the words over and over until the soft patters of your feet hit the floorboards. It wasn’t just the words that echoed in your ears, it was the faintest of the tugs at your fingers— tingling as it got closer and closer until the door before you felt too natural.

Levi could hear the footsteps. His hands froze as he piled the papers off of the table. He felt the familiar tug on his fingers as he listened closely outside his door.

He wasn’t new to this.

The tug meant that someone particular has found him. His breathing deepened as the floorboards creaked, and he thought of the time those particular tugs greeted him almost everyday— spanning seconds and minutes as he walked around the base. Sometimes, he could carry those tugs with him outside the wall— and he would do this best to not let it affect him.

But this time feels different.

He knows that someone on the other end is hesitating to knock on his door, and he couldn’t help but wish to make them walk away, erase the familiarity because he wasn’t ready. He’s heard stories of people meeting their soulmates and it all ended in tears and laughter but he knows his meeting will go on the opposite way— but it just tugged.

He closed his eyes for a few seconds, feeling the tingling on his body as the person felt worried to open the door.

“Just open it,” Levi found himself muttering.

He focused on the paper before him, hearing the creak of the footstep as someone knocked on his door. It was quiet, eerie, and Levi found himself touching that patch behind his ear. He perfectly knows what letter it was, where it starts and ends, the red ink etched on his skin as he touched the letter.

And it tugged— harder, that it made Levi curl his fingers on his table, finally hearing the turn of the knob like a bullet through the air as he lifted his head off of the table from his fake work. His breathing stopped when he first locked eyes. The tug disappeared as he looked straight, feeling his throat dry— his brows furrowing as the person came marching in.

You came marching in.

His grey eyes surveyed yours as you marched right in, embarrassingly stopping in the middle of his office. His hands stayed glued to his table filled with paperworks as he looked at you.

“Hello,” your voice wavered as you stood up straighter in his office. The door closed by itself and the small distance instantly felt too much.

The man before you lifted his head by an inch— and that was all he did. The silence was loud and deafening and it made your blood boil, because you understood why he is always tugging at your end based on his work. What you didn’t understand is why he is just sitting there. Aren’t all supposed to be happy about meeting their soulmates? The magnetic feel at the end of their tingling fingers?

He didn’t respond.

“Okay,” you started, crossing your arms before him. There was nothing else to comment on aside that he is staring, so you really powered through it. “We’re soulmates. And we have these tugs, I’m sure you know it. I understand your line of work—,”

“Then this shouldn’t be a problem,” Levi interrupted as he leaned on his chair. He didn’t miss the way you gasp lightly after his words. “It’s natural.”

“I know that it’s natural. I’m asking for a little consideration,” you walked nearer to his desk, your feet tumbling at the distance. His grey eyes looked up as you stood before his table. “The tugs— your tugs, it’s keeping me awake. I couldn’t— do anything, you keep me awake. And in the afternoons? I’m barely moving because all I could do is process your distress-,”

“You are free to ignore it.” Levi said, clenching his hands tight because he could feel you on his fingers— your tugs. He took a deep breathe, realizing that this is making you worry, this whole conversation is making you pull on your own ends, and he couldn’t do anything about it because he knows he’s also doing it to you.

“I can’t ignore it.” You clenched your teeth, looking at his smug face. His red initial on your shoulder burns, and you roughly pulled on your sleeve to show it to him. “How can I ignore it—,”

“Don’t-,” Levi started again, feeling your initial itch.

“Don’t interrupt me,” you frowned, pointing at his initial on your skin. “Tell me how I can ignore it when you are on my skin and I could feel you!”

Levi blinked a couple of times, calming himself because one look at your skin, and he could already confirm. It’s what they say, if your soulmate shows you your initial, it automatically riles you in. His initial sits on your skin in red ink, just like yours did behind his ear.

He could feel anger within you and he could only arch his brow as to why that is. If he’s being honest, he has no time for this even if he was ecstatic to meet his soulmate— he still doesn’t have time for this because he is unsure of his future. He doesn’t know that maybe on the next day their expedition comes, he could be gone. He could be in pain, and he knows what pain does to the line. It is excruciating— and he has felt it before through you. He didn’t want to leave that somebody alone but it was bound to happen that’s why he was hesitant to be found.

Even when you found him, he wants to take it all back.

“Why are you even here?” Levi finally asked, knowing already your answer. He has got it all under control even when he could feel your consistent tugs at his ends.

“All I am asking is for you to be careful.”

You sighed, closing your eyes as you tried to calm down. You fiddled with the ends of your shirt as you took a few deep breaths. Your soulmate is and isn’t who you imagined to be. His days are far more busy than yours, less extravagant as to what you were used to but he was the one for you. An acquaintance, a friend— someone who the universe set for you.

“Don’t act like I am your responsibility,” Levi scowled, because he didn’t mean for things to escalate. The tugs on your ends has settled, and he let out a huge sigh that he didn’t know that he was holding.

Then, it tugged. Just as your angry eyes opened.

“But you are!” You exasperatedly said, pointing at him while you tugged your sleeve to cover up. “You are my responsibility! For fuck’s sake, you are on my skin! I can feel you! We’re bound, literally.”

Levi stood up from his chair, your initial itching. His mind’s running because he doesn’t want to be bound— literally. He doesn’t want to have an added responsibility, another person— he doesn’t want to gain and lose it at the end.

“However it is we are together, that is besides the point. You found me! That’s great news,” Levi seethed through his teeth, leveling his eyes at yours, “Now you can leave.”

“Excuse me?!”

“Should I complain also?” Levi asked calmly, touching your initial. He moved his eyes away when you saw his little action, and he inhaled deeply in response. “Every second and minute, I could feel your tugs. But do you hear me complaining? Did I have to look for you to lecture me about soulmates?”

“Complain all you want but know that it’s because of you!” You gritted your teeth, nose flaring as Levi sat back down. “You could feel me distressed, because you are distressed! So, tell me how I could avoid that? You go out— outside the Walls, do your job, tug on my end, and you expect me to live my day out normally? I understand the difficulty of your work and I applaud you for everything you are doing. All I am asking is for you to be careful.”

“Can we talk about-,”

“Captain L-!”

A young scout opened the door to his office, and you stood there shocked at the interruption. The young soldier’s eyes flicked back and forth at his eyes and yours— frozen as to what to do. Levi called upon the soldier, their hurried footsteps echoing in the quiet office.

You whipped your head towards the men with one final look and you quietly exited your way. His eyes went up to yours for a split second as you stepped outside— hearing his chair scrape against the floor but it ended there.

It ended there.

Gone was the intimidating base, and you were back on the small ferry to make your way further into the safety of Wall Sina.

Levi couldn’t sleep at all during the night and he wondered if it also kept you awake. He tossed and turned in his bed, creaking in the dark night as he tried to find the best position to shut his eyes for at least a minute. But it was no use— he knows that he wouldn’t be able to sleep and he wants to roll his eyes for even thinking of you. He wanted to sleep because you complained about it— and so he forces him to. But he couldn’t.

He isn’t stupid and he knows that sleep is very important, but it just doesn’t come to him.

It was also quiet at your own end.

It has been a few days before you came to him. He could still remember how heavy and hushed at the same time your footsteps were. He could still remember how you breathed deeply and hard in between your sentences as he listened. He remembered how you looked that day you took your exit. It was as if you were supposed to say something more but your feet has already carried you away.

Levi tried— and successfully pushed the thoughts aside for the time being but he couldn’t stop it from coming back.

The expedition outside is bound for a few hours away and he shouldn’t be thinking of damned soulmates. He’s caught in the middle of celebrating or sulking that he’s found his own. It’s both suffocating and freeing that he now knows he has one— and it wasn’t all hearsay. It does happens, and it just so happened his meeting didn’t go very well and happily.

But Levi is slightly, minutely, thankful for it.

And so when he stood in the battlefield against the titans, all he could hear are your words.

His soulmate’s words and it made him scowl when he didn’t even know your name.

‘Be careful.’

‘On my skin.’

‘My responsibility.’

Levi wonders if he was tugging on your end as he slashed a titan’s nape. The wind blew on his face as he hurriedly check his gas. Everything was working out— and he wasn’t in distress.

“I am careful,” Levi whispered to himself as he killed the last titan. His eyes moved towards his squad and nobody was badly hurt.

Levi walked and placed his blades back. His hand brushed his face and on instinct, went over your initial. “You are on my skin.”

He scanned his comrades, his voice thundering as he ordered them to retreat. Levi looked back at the field for a few seconds, noting that the blood spilled wasn’t his or anybody’s. “You are my responsibility.”

On the way back inside the Wall, Levi wondered if you could still feel him. He tried his hardest to not let you feel him, but he wanted to at least give it try. Soulmates are made for a reason, be it for mainly for company or to grow love— a binding made by the aboves and it is up to the people to go find it or not.

For the longest time, he didn’t want to be involved in it, but what fight does he have when your ink has been on his body ever since? What fight does he have when he felt your tugs over and over again, and it made him realized that he is involved.

Levi thought real hard about it at night, his mind going over his plan, and always in the verge of doing it or not. In the end, he slept as best as he could, tossing and turning, until he set his heart on his decision, hoping that he won’t regret it.

The book that you have been holding— the one that you have been trying so hard to read was all but a jumble of words that makes no sense as you started from the very beginning of the page.

“He ran towards her,” you read aloud to help with the tingles from your finger, as you inhaled sharply when you felt it again. “He ran towards her-,”

“Can you stop,” you begged quietly, whispering to yourself as you closed the book. You placed your head in your hands, breathing slowly to even out the other line, “I am trying to read.”

But it didn’t work— no matter how hard you tried to breathe, inhale and exhale, while you clenched your eyes shut.

“One deep exhale,”

“Two,”

“Three.”

Over, and over again.

Then it stopped.

With a sigh, you picked up your book again, opening to where you have left off and began to read it.

“He ran towards her,” you read aloud again, your mouth silently reading as you focused on the words and sentences and the life the book is giving.

For a few minutes, and a few flips of pages— somebody knocked on your door. One quick rap, and it was gone. You thought it was just the silly kid from next door, betting with his friends of if you would come out— after falling for it multiple times. So, you paid no attention to it.

Then another.

You uncrossed your legs from the sofa, placing the book on your lap as you turned your head to the door. When it didn’t knock again, you crept on your door slowly, turning the knob quietly as you opened the door inch by inch to be met with—.

“I thought you weren’t home.”

His eyes were glued to yours as he cleared his throat, while you stayed stuck on the ground, holding the knob like your life depended on it. He wasn’t wearing his usual uniform as he adorned his body with a more formal look, as he carried his coat, and it took you a few seconds to register it.

“I thought about what you said.”

Levi let out a sigh of relief when you opened the door wider, as you stared at him silently. He curled his hands, finally feeling you back as it tugged on it.

“How did you find me?”

Soulmates.

“I... I’m not really sure. I just knew.” Levi turned slowly, holding on to his hair as he lifted them up, pointing at your red initial just behind his ear, “I figured your name starts with—.”

“That’s right,” you breathed, gulping as you traced your initial on his skin, “That’s my initial.”

He nodded, turning around. When you didn’t speak back up, it left Levi racking his brain whatever possible there is to say. You only stood there, locking the door open with your foot as Levi stood there wondering what else could be missing.

“Levi,” he introduced himself, offering a hand as you looked at it.

When he was about to retract his hand back to save him from his own embarrassment, you quickly took his hand, pulling him gently. Levi almost smiled when you chuckled softly, pointing at the living room behind you as he gently padded inside your home.

“So, Levi,” you closed the door behind him, taking his coat from his hand to hang on the rack. His eyes followed you, his footsteps quiet as you lead the way towards the kitchen. You passed him a mug, pushing the tea tin over him, “Come to lecture me about soulmates?”

#its me clearing out my drafts sigh #aot imagine #levi x reader #levi imagines #levi imagine #aot imagines #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman imagines #levi ackerman imagine #attack on titan imagines #attack on titan imagine #snk imagines #snk imagine #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #shingeki no kyojin x reader

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shreddedparchment · 4 years

Text

Pseudo Princess Pt.36 - End

A Chance Meeting

08/08/2020

Pairing: King!Steve x Reader Word Count: 10,158

Warnings: language, angst, fluff, creepy dudes

A/N: The end. 😭 I hope you’ve enjoyed it. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

Please DO NOT repost my stories on any other sites or blogs. REBLOGS are always welcome.

*pictures relay only style of clothing and not physical appearance/race

Silken sheets that are cool to the touch. A roaring fire. The heartbreaking smell of peony blossoms.

A wooden bucket—your wooden bucket—full of ice-cold water.

A chill warmed by a feverish heat wrapped around your back.

All of these thoughts-no. They’re more like memories.

All of them have come to you over the course of a year.

They grow more elusive as they come.

Before you thought you could almost see a garden with an ocean of pink peonies in varying shades of blush to wine.

Now, after months of having these strange visions, they have become condensed into single colors at random. The most frequent is a shade of gold. A circle of blue.

You think these memories might be important but you cannot grasp onto them long enough to make any sense of them.

There’s also the fact that you know they cannot possibly be memories.

You have never seen a garden of peonies.

You’ve had plenty of chill in your life but a warmth like the one you’d recalled at the beginning of the year when the winter cold had been at its worst is as unfamiliar to you as the looming manor on the hill above the village.

With a small groan, you stop and set the bucket down. Your arms are strong enough to carry it but after so harsh a winter, you’d be a fool not to take care.

You’d only just managed to make it out alive after devoting so much time to your little one.

You suppose the golden hue you keep remembering is similar to your baby’s hair. Just a shade or two off. Just as beautiful.

The estate sits looming at the peak of a hill that sits almost a mile away from the village.

The manor itself, you can see, has been expanded. It has the appearance of a small castle now with towers and battlements. The parapet walls that now surround the structure offer crenels to whatever guard the now small castle may need.

It had sat there abandoned for so long, the lord once given task to watch over it and Bright Rise as well as several other small villages in this part of the kingdom having left.t

With the primary building made of wood, the added masonry has really given the old place new life.

What magnificent furnishings must it have? Gilded and ornate probably. Chairs worth more than everything you own.

What type of person has taken residence there? Is it someone you’d know?

Someone beautiful probably. A handsome lord and his gorgeous lady. Both of them probably members of his Majesty King Anthony’s court.

Do they have children? A young little lord or lady running around causing mischief.

You find yourself smiling, made happy by the image you paint in your head.

It makes you only a little sad that you picture yourself there. Your baby in your arms. Your husband…

My husband?

Silly…You don’t have a husband.

But you yearn for something you very nearly miss. Something you know you should have. Something…precious.

“Hello there, little mouse.”

You gasp, startled out of your daydreams and turn on your heel in search of the horrible voice.

With a stuttering heart you spot Phin, standing with his grimy hands in his tattered pockets.

“What do you want?” You ask him, voice cold but wavering as you grow wary.

Already you’re searching with a quick glance for the nearest route of escape.

You hunch over, grabbing your bucket and attempt and fail to stifle your groan of effort.

Phin lunges forward, his hand thrown out towards you. It makes you flinch. You keep your eyes shut as you wait for the blow.

It never comes.

Slowly you peek, searching for Phin's extended hand and find it wrapped around the rope handle of your bucket.

“What are you doing?” You ask, confused and fearful. “Let go.”

“I can treat you right, little mouse. I can give you proper protection. I’ll even pretend that bastard brat of yours is mine.

“I’ve been patient. I may not be able to wait much longer.” His voice is like sludge, creeping down your spine raising chills of terror as it goes.

You yank on the handle, urging him to release it. You meet his gaze, matching his threat with your own angry stubbornness.

You will not give in to him. Not now. Not ever. Even with your little one…you can’t.

He keeps holding it, refusing to let go until you feel like you’d rather drop the water and come back for more later.

He drops the rope and you stumble back a step, not having realized how much you were actually pulling on the bucket.

Some water spills but you’re just thankful to be free of Phin and you rush away to be even further. A glance back when you’re close to your small home shows you Phin still standing where you left him.

He’s watching you.

You hate him.

Getting inside, you shut the rickety door tight, resting your forehead against the splintered wood as you wait for your heart to stop pounding.

From behind you a sudden “goo" chases the tension and fear from your body. Your shoulders relax.

With a smile tugging at the corners of your lips, you turn in search of the cooing source.

Nestled into a bed of hay, covered with a thick blanket of navy fabric, is your little one.

A hair of golden hair and eyes as blue as the deepest ocean have enraptured you. Stolen your heart and changed your world.

“Are you finally awake?” You gush, moving to place your bucket by the crumbling and unlit fireplace before you make your way to him.

His chubby little legs kick away his tunic. A plain brown piece of linen you’d stitched together to keep him clothed.

At six months, he’s nearly outgrown it.

When you offer your arms, he throws his weight to his left until he can roll onto his stomach and then reaches for pivots towards you.

Sliding your hands underneath his arms, he grabs you and you lift him up then place several kisses to his chubby baby cheeks.

He's gorgeous, your baby boy. His smile is sun bright and the gleam in his eyes is sharp and observant.

The expressions he wears on his little face are familiar. They pull and tug at something too but you can’t focus on it long enough to care.

Your boy is your world and that’s all you need to know.

“Is my sweet boy hungry?” You wonder while moving for the bucket of water you’d lugged into the hut.

You dip your hand in and for a moment relish in the feel of the water on your hand. A sudden desire to be submerged in steaming hot water that smells like a spring garden overcomes you, but it’s gone by the time you gently swipe across your little one's face.

He protests you cleaning his face. Whining a little and twisting in your arms until you’re done and wait with both arms supporting him for his sputtering to stop.

He looks at you and after taking another moment to overcome his displeasure, he smiles again.

You chuckle and move to grab the swaddling blanket you’ve set aside for his use alone and sit with it in your lap as you lean back a little to expose your breast to feed him.

A song you feel you almost dreamt slips from your lips in a soothing hum. With your eyes shut you can almost see a beautiful gown sweep around your feet.

Strong arms hold you close as they lead you around a crowded room.

The image is like a dream too, part of the song you’re humming. You’ve never been in so vast a hall, tables laden with food and the satin gown you wear is softer than any rag you’ve ever worn.

No. You’ve never been bathed in such luxury.

This hovel is your home with its mostly dirt floor, loose cobblestones shoved around in spots you’d set aside to keep dry.

No windows. A door that hangs off its hinges. A straw bed. A patched roof.

As your son feeds and you allow your mind to put away the dream of nice things, you assess the hut you’ve made your home.

You’re almost certain that you’d had it in better condition before. The door had hung straight, the rickety fireplace had been sturdy and homely.

The floor had been more even. Your straw bed had been less lumpy.

You’d had another small shelf with your plates and cups. Your sewing kit safely stored in the cupboard below.

Your home had not been grand but it had been comfortable. It had been yours and you’d cared for it delicately and made it a sanctuary.

When had it changed so much?

As you attempt to remember when this place fell apart your mind is forced to confront several other unanswered questions that you seem to think on often but always forget.

It’s almost as if the thoughts are pushed from your mind until they are brought to the surface once more.

The one question that started it all…the one that had made you pause. You still remember the miller’s wife, staring at you at the small grocer's shop while you waited to pay for your bushel of potatoes.

“Oi, orphan. How much longer ‘til you have the babe?” She'd asked, her eyes narrowed as she considered your swollen belly.

You'd stroked it, smiling fondly at the little life growing within you.

“A fortnight.” You’d answered, happy and content despite your poor living.

“Ah, and who's the father?” She'd asked, then waited as your smile slowly fell.

You’d stood there for a few minutes, waiting your turn but lost in thought at the question that had never once occurred to you in the seven months since your belly began to grow.

“I…I don’t know.” You’d admitted to her and her eyes filled with a solemn worry.

“Looks like they finally cornered you. Didn’t get a look at ‘is face?” She'd wondered and it was then that you realized what she thought.

Your precious baby, your little growing bean, was the product of one of the village men forcing himself on you.

But it wasn’t true!

As you sit with your son in your arms, rocking him back and forth as he eats, you know without a doubt in your mind that your son was made with love.

You can feel it within your very soul. There was passion and love and devotion in his making.

A golden aura, warm and encompassing that gave you your own little ray of sunshine. But even though you know this you cannot see his father.

There is no father. Only your Joseph.

He stirs in your arms. You find him smiling, finished with his meal. And just like that, your thoughts are lost to his special allure.

“All done?” You ask him and he yawns.

You begin to wrap him up in the blanket you’d made for him and bring a basket from the corner of your hut.

It’s a decent size with straps sewn into the wicker so that you may put it on your back.

You place it before you, balanced between your legs and gently lay Joseph within. You make certain he's wrapped up tight and kiss his cheek before you fit a domed lid on top.

The lid covers his head and keeps him safe from the summer heat.

“We'll check the traps and then come right back.” You promise him and lift the basket onto your shoulders, listening as he coos long baby words that say nothing.

It’s like he’s talking to you, the quiver of his voice moving up and down with inflection as if he knows what he’s doing.

He takes a breath and then starts again, “Oooh-awhhhh-wahhhhhh-ooooohhhhhhh…”

You can’t help but smile, your skin greeted by scorching sun as you start your trek into the trees behind your home.

“Let's check the traps by the pond first, then we'll check the bog by the road.” Joseph coos along with you.

~~~~~~~~~~

The view is spectacular.

It’s downright scenic from up here so high on the hill. Even if the beautiful valley is slightly tarnished by the village below.

It’s part of the reason he decided to keep the purchase.

Several months ago, Steve had found the deed to the manor on Sunbright Hill.

He'd sat for nearly an hour while he'd considered the paperwork, trying to remember why he’d made the purchase of such a dilapidated plot.

The lord that had once resided here had apparently vacated when he'd married a lady of considerable wealth but she preferred the Capital city to Bright Rise below so, they’d left and never come back.

Slowly the manor began to rot and the village, without its caretaker, had also fallen into poverty and corruption.

The farms were all but dead. Only two were still in use and had the season failed once in the past few years, the village would have surely fallen.

“Steve?” Bucky sighs, moving into the renovated den.

Steve stands by the large arched windows behind his massive oak desk.

The chair is angled towards the glass, distracted as he's been lately, he can’t seem to get any work done.

“Steve?” Bucky says louder.

Steve blinks, pulled from his brooding to notice his friend. He turns and waits, saying nothing.

“She's here.” Bucky smiles.

Steve’s heart gives an eager stutter as his own bearded face breaks into a wide smile.

“Where?” He asks, moving towards his oldest friend.

“She’s with Nat in the dining room. She was hungry.”

Steve is already out the door, stomping with wide steps down the hallway, then another and another, down a staircase then to the east side of the manor towards the dining room.

It’s a long room, a table long enough to sit at least forty people takes up most of the center space.

Each wall has been adorned with tapestries and paintings, an iron chandelier with sixty candles hangs at the center of the room, currently unlit.

Instead, windows on both sides of the room sit open, a cool breeze blowing in to cool the manor from the summer heat.

As Steve thrusts the doors open, he spots a grouping of his closest friends. Sam, Wanda, Pietro, Peter who is actually squatting beside the chair they are all surrounding, and Natasha in the one beside it.

In the chair is a cherub. An angel. A literal princess dressed in pale pink. Her golden hair, a shade darker than Steve’s is pinned back on one side with clasp of small and ornate white peony blossoms.

“Maggie!” Steve calls, the honey in his deep voice soft and flowing as his heart swells in his chest.

The toddler turns her head, searching aimlessly as his voice echoes around the room. Her right hand full of jelly and toast as she’d sat munching, she now opens and holds her fingers wide as she isn’t coordinated enough to recognize when the food has fallen from her tiny grasp.

Everyone is watching her, despite the presence of their King and Steve cannot blame them. Her eyes find him and she releases a high squeal of excitement before she turns in her seat to take hold of the arm.

“Wait, Maggie, your hands are a mess.” Nat says, her voice full of amusement.

But little Maggie has no patience for cleanliness with her papa so close.

“Papa!” She screams, turning to look at him as she stands on the chair.

Her lips wrap around the name with a slur, her talking improving but still just beginning.

Nat continues to wipe her hands as Steve laughs and moves for her, arms extended.

Maggie bounces on her feet excitedly. Her pink dress swishing with every move.

As he reaches her, she allows herself to fall into his arms and he catches her, spinning her once as he presses a long kiss to her cheek.

Maggie laughs, her hands wrapped around Steve’s head so tightly that Steve wonders if her strength is increasing or it’s just his imagination.

“She has been asking about you all week.” Nat says, rising and then turning to Bucky as he approaches her to give her a kiss.

“We'll give you some space.” Wanda offers then moves around the chair towards the exit.

Steve stops his turning to watch her go, Pietro following.

“Will you be going back to Broklin?” He wonders, wondering if the twins only came to escort Maggie.

“No. We'll visit with Tony.” Pietro nods, then both of them stop at the door and bow before heading off at what must be Pietro’s run.

“How was the journey?” Steve worries, turning his eyes on Nat.

“It was fine. She was a little fussy last night but as soon as I explained that we were coming to see her papa, she converted her energy to enthusiastic impatience.” Nat chuckles. “She really has been asking for you. ‘Papa where?’, ‘Where Papa?’, ‘Papa, Papa, Papa…’. It’s almost as if it’s the only word she knows.”

“She’s never been away from him for so long.” Bucky observes, both he and Nat watching as Maggie places her little hands on Steve’s cheeks, her fingers exploring the edges of his beard while Steve admires her little face.

“I’m sorry, my treasure. I just wanted to make sure the manor would be ready when you arrived.” He tells her.

She seems to understand as she tilts her head to one side and throws her hand up, bent at the elbow as she babbles a string of words only she understands.

“Do you forgive me?” Steve begs.

Maggie giggles sleepily then leans forward to lay her head on his shoulder.

Steve strokes her tiny back, caressing her hair a bit as her eyes begin to close.

“How long will you stay, Nat?” Steve asks, his voice dropping a bit in volume to respect his sleeping toddler.

“Long enough for you and Sam to go and come back. Bucky and Peter will help me with Maggie.” She nods, looking for her faithful friend and Knight.

She spots him in another seat, head in hand, elbow on the table as he dozes lightly.

“He's been doting on her.” Nat explains. “Too much, perhaps?”

Sam huffs a laugh as he crosses his arms across his hard chest, tugging on the crimson tunic he’d quickly dressed himself in this morning.

“He’ll be angry we went to visit Morgana without him.” Sam observes and Steve can’t find it in him to deny it.

The romance that had bloomed between them had seemed to come out of nowhere for him.

In the back of his mind when he’s been laying in bed with Maggie beside him, he can almost remember a conversation about their eventual marriage. When he brought it up to Nat—he was fairly certain the topic had been discussed with a woman—she admitted to the thought never even crossing her mind.

She’d praised the match and teased Peter afterwards, but it has left Steve with another unanswered question.

So many…so many strings that he’s tried to pull on only to find the way blocked.

Maggie coos in his arm, another bout of baby babble in her sleep that pulls him from his pondering.

“We’ll head out in a few hours.” He tells Sam who straightens up and nods. “I would like to go now, but I want to spend a bit of time with Maggie before I leave her again.”

~~~~~~~~~~

A few hours with Maggie turned into thirty minutes.

The longer Steve sat with her in his arms, the more eager he was for her to wake.

He’s missed her but knows that she’s tired so in an effort to get the visit over with and return to his smiling princess, he tucks her into her crib in his bedroom then hands her care over to Nat who sits by the window while Bucky sees them out.

“How long will you be, your Majesty?” Bucky wonders, keeping pace with Steve’s quick and long stride.

“Not long. I’ve only to invite him to the ball in two weeks and we’ll return. I’m certain we’ll be back before dinner.” Steve assures him. “I hear you and Natasha are considering adopting a child?”

Bucky smiles. “There is another option, one that Natasha is most eager to try but I think I’ve convinced her to reconsider.”

Steve regards his friend skeptically.

“Truly, I think I have. She met with a witch a few weeks ago and apparently there is a way for Natasha to regain her ability to have a child.” Bucky explains, his expression a little darker.

Steve’s confusion is evident in the narrow of his brow. Despite his curiosity, he keeps his eyes fixed ahead as they move along the south hall to the stables.

The fall of their shoes echoes along the empty corridor, still only half decorated as it was only finished a few days ago. Steve can still smell the fresh clay between the stones underneath their feet.

He’ll have carpets put in to quell the sound.

“Isn’t that what you both want?” He wonders.

Bucky shakes his head. “I want her to be happy. She thinks I want a child of my own. Naturally my own. But I don’t care if the child is mine by blood. I just want to love her.”

“Magic like that of which she speaks comes with a hefty price.”

“That’s why I refuse to accept it.” Bucky sighs, the worries of his world evident on his shoulders.

“The price is too high?” Steve wonders, finally looking to his friend.

“We would be granted the ability to have our own child, but the mother would have to relinquish years of her own life. Five is what the witch told her. So, if it were Nat’s fate to die at the age of sixty, five years would be taken from that and she would die that much sooner.” Bucky laments, shaking his head in denial. “I cannot condone it.”

Steve sees his friend thinking things through, biting his lip as he wonders if he should speak what has consumed his mind aloud.

He gives in, “I know that it’s her choice. If she should want to do it, I only have some say in it. If having a child truly born of us both is what would make her happy then I would have no choice but to comply, but I would rather adopt a child who we will both love as our own anyway and have my wife for five years longer.”

Steve’s heart gives a painful ache.

Something in Bucky’s words makes him sad and breaks his heart.

My wife…Steve repeats in his head, the memory of feeling proud at that very thought overtaking his senses.

“Is it Margaret again?” Bucky wonders, stopping as they reach the end of the hall. “You’ve got that look on your face again.”

Steve reaches up to stroke the spot on his chest where he can feel his heart beating. Every thump it gives sends more agony into the pit of his stomach making his head hurt.

Is it Margaret? Steve doesn’t think so.

The first time someone had asked him if it was Margaret he was mourning he admitted it was because it was easier than to tell his friends that no, it wasn’t his dead wife he was thinking of. In fact, he wasn’t sure who it was he was thinking of.

He shuts his eyes now, overcome with the sweet scent of oils. Lilac and juniper. Peonies. Fields of them. A garden full, just like back home.

A smile flitters past his sense. The image nearly chokes him. A laugh. A pout. A tear stained face made blurry as he can’t recall its beauty.

Maggie in womanly arms, pressed gently to her breast.

These elusive images that skim his mind are not Margaret. Everyone seems to ignore that Maggie is too young to be Margaret’s or perhaps they simply don’t care?

It’s almost a silent agreement that Maggie’s mother is not Margaret but who exactly she is, no one cares. No one will think on the possibility long enough for it to matter.

Even Steve loses focus after a few second of torment.

Even now, as his heart breaks painfully, Bucky puts his hand on his shoulder and gives him a shake.

Just like that, the images that pained him only moments ago are gone.

Steve smiles, breathing in deep before exhaling in a huff.

“I’ll be quick. I want to be back before it’s too dark.” With a nod from Bucky, Steve hastens his way into the stable.

Sam already has his horse saddled and waiting.

He hops on, adjusting his posture as he takes the reigns then turns to give Bucky one final wave.

“Keep my daughter happy until I return.” He orders.

Bucky waves them off and watches until they clear the large gate.

~~~~~~~~~~

Your hands are shaking with rage. Yet another night with nothing caught.

All of your snares are in fact, broken. A deliberate cut made to the wire you’d spent so much money on.

You think you know exactly who it was that came out to ruin your work. There’s only one person who would benefit from sabotaging your efforts to feed yourself and your boy.

The image of Phin standing across the field from your home, staring at you is burned into your mind.

If it weren’t for Joseph, you would happily starve before you accept Phin’s hand in marriage.

As it is, it isn’t only you. In order to feed your son, you must eat. With no one coming to you for mending—which you are also sure is thanks to Phin’s interference as it has only been happening the past few weeks—you have no money to buy anything. No grain. No bread. No meat.

If you do not eat, your son will starve.

You clutch the broken snare in your hand, squeezing so tight you can feel the wire dig into the palms of your hand.

Were they not so rough, you may have cut yourself.

You take a quick peek at the basket carefully nestled between the rough trunk of tree and large berry bush. Your little one still dozing peacefully and safely covered by the basket’s lid.

While he sleeps, you know you must be quick with the snares by the bog. It isn’t too far so you decide to let him sleep in the shade and make your way through the trees to the road’s edge.

It’s a very short walk. Should he cry you’ll hear him perfectly and be able to run back to him in less than ten seconds.

The sun beats down on the road here and the bog is nearly dried over from the heat of the summer sun.

Normally the mud within is a thick sticky paste that one can easily be caked in. You even remember fetching a purse for the old woman who used to care for you when you were little.

As you stop by its edge, you wonder where the old woman has gone. You attempt to recall the last time you’d seen her but the last memory you have is fetching her purse from the mud pit.

Forcing her from your mind, you look to the two snares you’d set up between two trees and right at the edge of the bog.

The one at the edge has also been cut. You kick it angrily before you move to the other and find that it has also been tampered with.

“Fuck!” You mutter, hating Phin with every fiber of your being.

You try to picture him beside you, laying claim over you as his wife. You think on the life you will live, trapped in your home, and expected to fulfill his every whim, wish, and desire. He will rule you with a heavy hand, command you to obey, and take what he wants from you with violence if need be.

Terror roots you to that spot between the trees, hunched over as your hands shake with anger at the lack of options for you and Joseph.

There is the other choice, the one you’ve refused to make because where might you go? Here in Bright Rise you at least have a roof over your head.

Soon fall will come, then winter after that. If you choose to leave, you might be condemning yourself and your son to a death by freeze and you can’t do that. You can’t make such a reckless choice with him so little still.

You gather as much of the wire as you can, carefully wrapping it around an empty spool you’d kept just in case, hoping to keep your anger from shifting into sorrow.

As you work, you can hear the sound of hooves behind you. Two horses at most. Perhaps three? The sound of shifting gravel too close.

There’s the clearing of a throat before a steady voice speaks. “Excuse me, might I trouble you, miss for some directions? My guard and I seem to have become lost in these backroads by the village.”

You sigh, still consumed with rage with Phin, but rise and turn to face the man who addresses you.

He’s godly, this man with golden hair and a beard to match. His eyes are piercing. Storm blue as they stare you down and you fidget with the spool in your hand as your heart does a sudden and unexpected dip into your belly where it explodes into a flurry of butterflies.

Voice choked in your throat, you look away from the beautiful man and tried to clear your head.

“His Majesty, King Steven has asked you a question, miss.” His guard says, shocking your system into an automatic curtsy as you intentionally avoid their gaze now.

“I’m sorry!” You gasp, worried you might have given offense.

“Sam, it’s alright.” King Steven says, his voice soft and coaxing.

You take a quick peek at his guard, another handsome man with deep umber skin and a soft bronze glow. His gaze is a little sterner but kind all the same.

“We did not mean to startle you.” King Steven says, the gentility in his voice luring you into taking another look at him.

When your eyes meet, you find that you can’t look away.

“I-I was checking my traps.” You relay, feeling stupid suddenly for giving him information that he has not asked for.

“I can see that.” King Steven nods, a small smile tugging up half of his full pink lips.

He’s exquisite. His dress is fine, luxurious satin and silk. His tunic is a royal blue, a silver stitching along every seam in what looks to be a small wavy pattern.

It looks familiar and your hand absentmindedly moves with the pattern of the stitch as if it remembers how to make it though you’ve never sewn on anything so fine in your life.

King Steven’s eyes notice the movement and he watches your hand before you remember yourself and speak again.

“Forgive me, your Majesty, you asked me a question.” You gasp, dropping the spool at your feet and moving around the mud pit to stand at the edge of the road, much closer to where he and his guard tarry.

King Steven smiles again, sending your heart into a pitter patter.

“If you head down this road, you will reach a fork with three smaller roads. You’ll want to take the Eastern most road for nearly four miles before you reach a second fork of two roads. Take the left and follow that road and do not stray. You will reach the Capital before noon.” You say, pointing as you give instruction.

As you finish you drop your arm and bring your hand to tug at the worn leather of your belt.

King Steven stares at you, smiling for so long that you look down at your feet and are suddenly aghast by the state of your shoes and skirts.

You’re so dirty that you’re ashamed to be seen by them. With a bite to your lip, you turn and hurry back around the mud pit to pick up your spool.

“Thank you.” King Steve says, his wide shoulders relaxed. “Might I pay you for your assistance? What is the customary amount? Five silver pieces?”

You throw out your hand to stop him, embarrassed to take payment for so small a favor. “No!”

Gasping you watch as the spool flies out of your hand. It hits the front of his horse then topples onto the road where it rolls along further down the rocky path.

King Steven dismounts as you rush forward in chase of the wire.

Both of you reach it at the same time but King Steven is first to bend over and take it.

“Oh, please…” You gasp, worried about the dirt and muck that must be caked on the tool. “You’ll dirty your hands.”

As King Steven stands upright, he dusts it off then offers it to you. “A little dirt never killed anyone.”

Your senses are assaulted by him and for a moment all you can do is stare at his hand as he waits for you to take your wire.

He smells like evergreen woods and oranges. No…limes…You’re not sure! It’s a citrus of some sort and it overwhelms your mind. His voice is deep and smooth. It works its way into your bones and nearly turns them into jelly.

“Will you not take it?” He asks, shaking the spool a little.

You look up to meet his gaze but find that his smile has disappeared. In its place is a look of severe concentration.

Is he angry with you? Have you insulted him by waiting so long to take your property?

The look in his eyes is intense. He looks almost as if he’s trying to recall an elusive memory.

You know the feeling…

Quickly you take the spool, ignoring the moment your hand brushes his. He must notice how rough your hands are. He must mix with ladies whose hands had never once known the strife of physical labor.

“Thank you, your Majesty.” You curtsy quickly, avoiding his gaze and move around him.

A hot, vice-like grip takes hold around your wrist.

You stop, turning to look at his hand then up to meet his gaze.

Gone is the look of confusion, replaced by a furrowed brow and what can only be hopeful searching within his storm blue eyes.

“Steve?” His guard warns, confused by the moment almost as much as you are.

“What are-” You whisper, voice so weak you’re surprised you can manage to speak at all.

You clear your throat and search for the courage to say your piece.

You don’t like this. The way his presence almost consumes you. His touch is burning, and you’re not sure why you feel as if you’ve also been waiting a lifetime for it.

“Unhand me.” You plead, twisting your wrist in his hand but refusing to look away from his slowly shifting expression.

He smiles and your heart stutters, fear of what it might mean making you yank a little harder, but King Steven uses the momentum of your pull to step towards you. He wraps his free arm around your waist, dipping his head down as he presses fevered lips against your own.

You’re frozen in his arms, wide eyes staring at his own now shut. His lips are fierce, his kiss is hard. It hurts a little and it takes you a moment to feel the warmth of their touch.

He drops your wrist and wraps his other arm around you, hand pressed to the back of your head as he tilts his own to one side and coaxes your lips open with a gentle swipe of his tongue.

The taste of him stuns you, your body freezing as your mind is assaulted with images all blurred together into one precious life that you’d most assuredly lost and now found again.

Your eyes grow blurry, tears flooding from the corners as your lips finally respond to Steve’s kiss.

With a gasp you pull away, sobbing once as you gobble up the sight of him.

Steve’s hands caress the sides of your face, stroking your hair and cheeks as he also devours your visage.

“I found you.” He whispers, throat tick with emotion.

You sob once more, arms pulling him towards you as you give in to the shocking relief you feel to be in his arms once more.

Your heart breaks as you clutch him close. Over a year of lost time with not only him but…

“Maggie!” You exclaim, voice barely above a whisper.

“She’s perfect,” Steve assures you, pulling back to meet your gaze once more. “She’s growing bigger every day. She has your sweetness, your love of jams and jellies.”

Steve laughs, so happy that his own tears fall too. “She calls me Papa, and she calls Sam birb.”

You laugh, shaking your head already knowing that Bucky’s to blame for that.

“I don’t think it’s that funny.” Sam suddenly says, pulling both your gazes towards him.

“Sam…” You smile.

“I’ve kept watch over her, just as I promised.” The recognition in his eyes is heavenly.

“How did this happen?” Steve asks, continuing the caress of your cheeks. “How did we lose each other.”

You sigh, licking your lips as you prepare to explain when your heart suddenly drops, and you remember another pair of storm blue waiting in a basket. “Steve…”

Without warning you turn and race into the trees, running as fast as you can to make sure that he wasn’t a dream.

You find the basket where you left it and pull it away from its hiding spot before you remove the lid, happy to find your little boy still fast asleep.

“Y/N!” Steve calls, racing up behind you where he skids to a stop. “What is it, my flower? What’s the matter?”

He sighs heavily when he finds you, moving to place his hands on your shoulders, needing to feel you it seems.

“Don’t run away from me like that…” He pleads, and your heart aches for him but this is much more important.

“Steve,” You begin, and turn to reveal the six-month-old baby in your arms. “You have a son.”

The step back he takes you attribute to shock. The heartbreak and confusion on his face you have only yourself to blame for.

“How-?” He asks, shaking his head as he stares at the tiny prince in your arms.

“Steve…” You begin, suddenly fearful of what he might say when you confess the deal you’d made with grandmother.

“No.” Steve cuts you off, reaching out to trace the shape of your arms through the dingy dress you wear. “Not here. Let’s go home.”

“To Broklin?” You wonder, relieved that he’s eager to resume your lives together.

“No, I-do you remember when I asked you if I should purchase your little hut?” Despite speaking to you, his eyes are still trained on your son.

Slowly, as he speaks, his hand skates across your arms until he can stroke Joseph’s little cheek with one tentative finger.

“Yes.” You frown, disapproving of the purchase as it isn’t your land to begin with.

“Well, when you forbade me from buying it, I bought the manor on the hill instead.” He confesses, finally meeting your gaze.

“Oh.” You’re stunned.

“I thought that it would be nice to have somewhere in Malibia to call our own. Visiting your family is something that I wanted you to feel free to do. I wanted to give you a space you could come to, somewhere near your home.” He explains sweetly sending your heart into a tizzy.

“Steve…” You reach up, pressing your palm to his warm bearded cheek while keeping a firm hold of your little one with the other.

“Come on.” Steve urges you, leaning down quickly to kiss you then pulls away slowly almost as if he doesn’t want to. “Our princess is waiting.”

~~~~~~~~~~

She’s as beautiful as the night you’d held her close, memorizing the little wheeze in her breath as she’d drifted to sleep.

She’s bigger. She’s walking, unsteadily but moving. She’s talking, indeed saying ‘Papa’ but she says other things that you’ve already picked up on.

Her little chubby limbs have stretched a bit and you can’t believe you’ve lost so much time with her.

Tears are still streaming down your cheeks while you sit here, staring at her sleeping face.

Steve’s hands support her little back as he holds her to his chest, his back resting against the ornate wooden headboard of your bed.

“She’ll know you soon enough.” Steve assures you as you nod and quickly wipe the tears from your eyes. “She was so little.”

“I know.” You reach out, caressing her little head before you look down at the even smaller boy between you both. He’s chewing on his fist, little legs up in the air as he quietly plays by himself.

He’s so good at just being alone, you feel terrible about it because you know that it’s your fault. You’ve needed him to be independent as you worked hard to earn money for both of you.

When he meets your eyes, he coos those long wordless streams of vowel. He’s talking to you, probably relishing in the plush mattress all four of you lay on.

“Shh, my sweet boy. Your sister is sleeping.” You stroke his little chest and he takes hold of your hand as he kicks his legs in excitement.

“Y/N…” Steve begins, and you know it’s finally time.

“I’m ready now.” You sniffle, meeting his look of somber confusion. “I’ll tell you what happened.”

It takes you less than five minutes to explain. Grandmother’s vision. Her actions to see it in greater detail. The truth of his imminent death. You tell him that you begged for his life and that night when Grandmother had interrupted your sleep, she’d come to tell you that she’d found a solution.

“She said the magic would ask for payment. Something that only I could give.” You hope that he doesn’t hate you, his expression unreadable as he watches you with his brooding brow all scrunched and focused. “I thought that it would be my ability to see or walk. My hearing perhaps? Or being able to speak…I never thought that it would take you and Maggie from me.

“My life perhaps? But not my memories of you. Not knowing you.” You sigh, waiting for his rage to show.

What you get instead, is a calm conversation and a gentle pout.

“But it wasn’t only your memories. It was everyone’s. The magic wiped your existence as my wife and Queen completely.” He observes.

“Yes.” You agree. “Even the villagers in Bright Rise acted as if I’d never gone anywhere. How can magic be so powerful as to erase me completely from so many minds?”

Steve shakes his head, his hand still absentmindedly stroking Maggie’s back.

“It was such a risk for you to take.” Steve frowns, his gaze piercing, and the guilt you’d felt building since you’d stepped foot in the manor crests. “How could you make such a choice without consulting with me? I’m your husband.”

“I know.” Your lip trembles. “I’m sorry. It all happened so quickly, and I had so little time to consider the consequences of my choice. All I knew was that your future was certain. You would die protecting the world and I could not give you up to it. If I had the power to save you, of course I would use it. So long as I knew that Maggie would have you, I could stand any future I had to live.”

“Even this one? Both of us separated forever?” Steve counters, holding a mirror to the past year of your life.

You shake your head, new tears springing forth as you look down at your boy who has fallen asleep once again.

“I thought I would have to marry Phin.” You admit, voice quiet so as not to disturb your little ones.

“Why?”

“I’m fairly certain he was orchestrating it. No one in the village were taking work from me to mend their clothing and today, you found me checking my snares for small game, but someone has been breaking them. Cutting the wire or simply tearing it down.

“He wanted me to be hungry enough to marry him and the bastard knew that I would do it, for Joseph if not for myself.” Your anger taints your vision red, Phin’s detestable face a memory you wish you could forget.

Mentioning your son brings Steve’s eyes back down to him. He takes one hand and reaches down, placing his finger into Joseph’s tiny open hand. He grasps his papa’s finger, a tiny fist full of surprisingly sturdy strength.

“Now that we’ve remembered, I’m panicked by the idea that you might have found a new Queen in my absence.” You confess, chewing nervously on your lip.

“Bucky and Sam suggested it. They brought Sharon around me often to try and convince to take her on, but something prevented me from doing so.” His words send your heart into your feet, your head is suddenly splitting.

Glad as you are that he doesn’t seem to have found a new wife, the possibility of it make you feel almost sick to your stomach with anxiety.

“I think perhaps I knew in some way, deep down, that I was already married. The very thought of sharing my bed with someone else drove my skin to crawl. I felt guilty, as if I were committing some grave sin.” He admits, unrelenting in his stare.

“I would not have blamed you…” You whisper, almost fearful to speak the words. “…if you had taken a new wife. If you’d had another child with someone else. I would have had no one to blame but myself.”

“No one could ever take your place.” He assures you. “Even though I didn’t remember you, your presence was greatly missed. I may not have known what it was I was yearning for, but I was wishing for you every moment of every day.”

You shut your eyes, allowing the pleasure his words give you to soak deep down into your bones.

Even though he doesn’t ask, you’d also felt the exact same way. Something had always told you that somewhere was a home waiting for you to take your place. Never would you have guessed that it was a castle in the next Kingdom over.

“Were you frightened?” Steve wonders, drawing your gaze once more.

You find him watching Joseph once again, his thumb stroking the little one’s hand.

“Expecting him all on your own?” He clarifies.

“I was afraid of how I’d take care of him.” You smile, reaching to stroke the length of his little nose. “I knew I would be alright birthing him. It was long and taxing. But he was with me so suddenly. It was over before I even knew what was happening. The miller’s wife came to check on me and she helped me for a few days after, but I had no other choice than to push on. I was up and caring for him and myself before the week was out. That’s when my fear came.

“I knew that I had to feed myself in order to keep him fed and healthy and I wasn’t sure exactly how to do it with the village set so resolutely against me. An unwed mother with a bastard child?”

“I’ll have it burned to the ground.” Steve declares suddenly.

You smile wide, your heart melting as you watch the intensity in his gaze as new love blooms for his son.

“I wish you had spoken with me about Agatha’s vision before you made any decisions.” Steve laments, an anger growing in contrast with the new love.

It effectively wipes aware the happiness his love gives you as you regret having kept him in the dark.

“If I’d told you,” You begin, voice breaking and weak as emotion gets the better of you. The sound of it brings his gaze back to you and he seems to soften with it. “You would have kept me from doing what needed to be done. There was no question of saving you, Steve. I had only just found you. Our baby girl only just born. I could not lose you.”

Shutting your eyes, you let your head fall, burying your face into your pillow.

“Imsuhsawree.” You sob, muffled against the fluff of the bed.

The silence feels endless until you’ve just about made up your mind to look at him again when a sudden snort of laughter cuts the tension with ease.

You whip your head to face him, searching for the source of the laugh only to find Steve with his hand over his mouth as his body shakes with silent laughter.

“You’re laughing?” You gasp in disbelief; certain you must be seeing things.

Your husband cannot possibly be amused in this moment while your heart and soul are drowning in guilt and grief.

“I’m sorry.” Steve chortles, a whisper of giggles as he tries his best not to wake Maggie. “Forgive me, I…”

You frown at him, displeased with his humor but he reaches for you with his hand and hooks it behind your head in a soft caress.

“It’s not funny.” You insist.

“No.” Steve shakes his head. “It isn’t. I’m sorry, my flower. I’m just…so happy you’ve returned. I’ve missed you so much.”

And just like that, he’s forgiven.

The four of you lay there in bed for hours. Though your stomach is empty, you refuse to bring your hunger to Steve’s attention. Even though you know very well just how much he will be upset with you for it, you can’t bring yourself to tear your little family apart so very soon.

The sun is only just setting when Joseph decides it’s time to eat. He whimpers, a soft murmuring of whiney breaths until the air takes shape and his cries begin to grow louder.

Beside him Maggie also stirs, staring around with wide eyes as the crying rises in volume and she’s brought out of her blissful slumber.

Steve wakes last, while you are already scooping your little boy into your arms and propping yourself up against the headboard to feed him, he rubs his face and glances at the window.

“It’s already so late.” He realizes, turning back to you and Joseph while Maggie twists her body until she can lay on her stomach and then throw herself back to sit on her bottom.

Her eyes are glued to Joseph as he latches to your breast and begins to suckle. Your breasts are sore, and the pain is worse than you remember it being with Maggie, but you have no time to focus on the pain.

You make sure he can eat easily, watching him for any signs of distress.

“Did you get her a wet nurse?” You wonder, letting your eyes drift to Maggie who still sits watching you feed her brother.

“I did.” Steve nods, lifting the girl back up onto his lap. “She was so little.”

You look away, a quiver in your bottom lip as you try to push past the heartbreak that you hadn’t been there for your daughter like you’d wanted to be. “Yeah.”

Steve is familiar with you enough that he knows you don’t want to dwell on it and changes the topic quickly.

“Shall we have dinner in here? I don’t want to share either of you yet.” He confesses, stroking the back of Maggie’s little head.

“Yes.” You nod, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically at the mention of food because Steve frowns.

“Damn it, Y/N.” He gripes and gently places Maggie back on the bed before he marches towards the doors. “If you were hungry, you should have said something. After your meal, I’ll have Natasha draw you a bath.”

The prospect of a full belly and a luxuriously hot bath which you hadn’t realized you’d grown so fond of is so dreamy that your heart gives a clench and once more you feel so very happy you just might cry again.

~~~~~~~~~~

“How’s your bath, my petal?” Steve checks, moving to the edge of the bed once more as the children sleep on.

After their dinner they’d quickly begun to play. They’d explored each other’s boundaries and Maggie had made Joseph cry only once for a few minutes before they were sharing Maggie’s soft cloth dolls.

They each sleep with one in their hands, huddled close together at the center of the bed.

“Is the water too hot?” Steve pulls over a small yellow footstool, sitting upon the soft cushion.

He doesn’t wait for your answer and dips his left hand into the water, testing the temperature as you lay yourself back against the large copper tub.

“Your hand is going to smell like peonies and rose oils.” You tease him, bringing your hand up above the fragrant water.

You take a peony petal and carefully tuck it behind his ear, gentle drops of water skirting down into his beard as the pink stands in pleasant contrast to the gold of his hair.

Biting your lip, you comb it back, tracing the shape of his jaw with damp fingers.

“Even though I didn’t know you, my heart and soul yearned for you.” You whisper, sliding your hand down to rest upon his shoulders.

“And I you.” He smiles, eyes shut as you lean in to press a gentle kiss to his lips.

“I wonder,” You begin, pulling back to examine and rememorize every inch of his face. “Now that we are together again, whether this will negate in some way the effect of the spell?”

This thought raises a new worry in you. A fear that by meeting again you have somehow doomed Steve to die.

“Even if it has, I will not part with you again. I won’t die either.” Steve promises, but how can you take him at his word.

Magic is wicked and it will take its price one way or another.

“I have to speak to grandmother.” You counter, your gentle caress of his shoulders turned into a desperate cling.

“She’s gone.” Steve says, sending your heart into a pit within your belly. “No one has seen her since all of this started. However, there is something that I found in my office back home.”

Steve rises, moving towards his cloak left to rest on the back of a chair at the opposite end of the room.

When he returns, he holds in his hand a sealed piece of parchment, folded twice to keep its contents secure. The wax seal is a deep purple, her insignia that of a cat, back arched and head tilted up as if to yowl towards the moon.

You reach for your towel nearby and dry your hands then take the letter as Steve holds it out.

“I’ve been carrying it with me everywhere I go, hoping it would yield some explanation as to why I have been feeling so…empty.” He tells you, picking up his stool and moving to place it a bit more near the head of the tub where you sit. “Scoot forward.”

You do as he asks, staring at the letter and consider what its contents might be.

Steve’s hands disappear beneath the surface of your bathwater and emerge with a small porous sponge. It’s rough at first but with water and under Steve’s heavy hand, it becomes malleable and he begins to stroke your back, cleaning the peasant grime from your body.

“Why haven’t you opened it?” You wonder, turning it over almost expecting it to billow with glittering smoke.

“I attempted to many times. I couldn’t. The seal would not break. See there at the bottom of the fold?” He instructs.

You turn it over to look at the side with the seal and spot the small loopy writing at the bottom. The penmanship is so exquisite, you’re almost certain now that grandmother had indeed once been of noble blood.

For the Queen of Broklin.

“For me?” You gasp.

“I think it will only open for you, petal.” Steve explains as he leans closer to get the tops of your arms and then following the flow of muscle over your shoulders and down along your sides slowly.

Eager now, knowing this letter is meant for you, you tear it open and the seal breaks without fuss.

“Can you read it?” Steve wonders, no note of teasing in his voice.

Like you, he must be wondering whether so long a time away from life at the castle has made you forget everything you’d learned.

“I think so.” And with bated breath, you read, glad that you’d tried so hard to learn and only slightly surprised that you understand every single word she’s written.

If you are reading this note, it means that I was right.

First, believe me when I tell you that every word I spoke of King Rogers’s death was true. There is indeed a threat that would take his life and that of your father’s and King Thor’s as well.

I thought that perhaps King Rogers’s death would be enough to convince you that what we needed to do would be necessary and I am glad to say I was right.

What I did not tell you is that I knew the price to be asked would be the life you’d built within the castle in Broklin. I could not bear to tell you that you’d spent all that time suffering and building a family with him only to have it ripped from you.

Somehow, I don’t think you would have changed your mind even if I had.

After you spoke to me of your connection with the Asgardian king, I was wary of what it might mean for your future as Queen in the kingdom. There was only one chance to break the curse dealt by the spell to save your husband’s life and that was if you and he were always meant to be together.

Soulmates, I believe they call it. Two halves of one whole, set at opposite ends of the world to meet each other in just the right way to create what we know as destiny. In this case, the opposite ends you were placed in were poverty and wealth.

Your husband had every advantage in life while you had none. You were given no loves in life and King Rogers was given one big enough to eclipse the pull you would have for him when and if you met.

At the time, I worried that King Thor might be your true mate. The two of you were so well suited and perhaps I’m right? But if you’re reading this, it means that you and King Rogers found each other once again.

By some miracle, he or you have lifted the curse, and you can once more be together to live your lives and King and Queen of Broklin.

A fate you might not have found had I not thrown my purse into that bog by the road. I hope you appreciate my efforts, girl. I have worked very hard to walk you through this life but must now leave you to shape it on your own.

Don’t worry. I might not be with you every day, but should you need me, I will come. You don’t need to send for me. I’ll know. And rest assured, your husband’s life is safe.

There will always be evil in the world and he will always rise to fight it but be content to know that his life you most certainly have saved. Take care.

-Grandmother

You read the letter at least three times before Steve’s chin finds your shoulder, the scruff of his beard pleasantly rough against your skin.

“What does it say?” He wonders, tilting his head to kiss your neck.

You fold the letter and toss it away so that it won’t get wet, then lean back until you’re relaxed and can turn to look and admire your husband’s storm blue eyes.

“It says that no matter what might come to tear us apart, you will always find me.” You smile, reaching up to scratch underneath his chin.

Steve’s lips curl up on one side, a dashing smirk if you ever saw one.

“Always.”

#king!steve x reader #medieval fantasy au #royal au #arranged marriage au #steve rogers x reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel au #steve x reader fanfiction #steve rogers x reader fanfiction #king!steve x reader fanfiction #king!steve x you #steve rogers x you #pseudo princess #avengers x reader #pseudo princess pt36 #shreddedparchment

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metalbvcky · 4 years

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Back in May, I made my first Stucky Ficrec post and months later, I’ve decided to make another since this fandom is hella talented. There’s a little over two dozen fics down below ranging from 10k-100k+ and everything’s categorized.

Do note that lot of these are Modern AU’s (I love those) and most of them are smutty. (yes hello, an asexual here who enjoys smut so very much) Also heed the tags once you click the link(s). Other than that, enjoy!!!

Key: ♥ = My personal favorites, S = Smut, DS = Dom/Sub

a) CANON UNIVERSE

If You're Reading This, Steve Rogers by fallendarlings Words: 39,273 | Post/Canon Divergence 2012 Avengers/TWS, Recovery, Slow Burn

Nobody tells Steve it's okay to cry.

Nobody touches him.

Nobody remembers Steve Rogers is a person under the mantle. It's okay. He hasn't felt like a person since he watched Bucky fall.

don't threaten me with a good time ♥ by canistakahari - Words 10,106 | Post-TWS, Sick!Fic, Sick!Bucky, Cabin Fic

Steve's taken him on vacation to a cabin in Canada in the middle of winter, so it's obviously the perfect time for his body to go haywire. Bucky is determined to stick it out, though, partly because he's a stubborn bastard, but mostly because he feels some kinda way about Steve.

Higher Ground by EmilianaDarling - Words: 13,002 | Post-TWS, S, DS (undertones), Top!Bucky, Bottom!Steve

“S’okay,” Bucky murmurs quietly, and Steve sucks in a sharp breath at the brush of Bucky’s lips against his ear, his breath hot against the side of Steve’s neck. There’s a hint of a grin in Bucky’s voice; amused affection and confidence and something heated beneath it all, a familiar tone from so long ago that makes Steve’s heart clench and his cock twitch helplessly in his jeans.

“S’okay, Stevie,” he says again, and Steve can feel the curl of Bucky’s lips against his throat when he smiles. His metal thumb is rubbing circles on Steve’s shoulder. “M’gonna take care of you.”

A year and a half after the events of The Winter Soldier, Steve's been acting recklessly. Bucky deals with it as best he can.

The Simple Life ♥ from The Simple Life Series by howler32557038 - Words: 114,329 (Series Total: 337,273 + ongoing) | Canon Universe, MPreg, Top!Steve, Bottom!Bucky

"The simple life."

"You'll get there one day."

"I don't know. Family, stability...The guy who wanted all that went in the ice seventy-five years ago. I think someone else came out."

Bucky wants to be part of Steve's life. He wants to be an Avenger. He wants to be a good partner. Unfortunately, sometimes that means not telling Steve everything.

a road less traveled by Claudia_flies, cyclamental art (cyclamental),maichan, zilia - Words: 75,396 | 2012 Timeline AU, Post-Avengers 2012 (Endgame Divergence), Domestic Avengers, Recovering!Bucky

Steve wakes up on the cold stone floor of the foyer. He scrambles up; there’s glass shards everywhere and they crunch under his gloved hands. People are staring, holding themselves back. They must have seen the fight, must have seen two of him.

His own voice rings in his head.

“Bucky is alive!”

Kept Safe by Whendoestheshipsail (restricted to AO3 users only) - Words: 54,419 | S, DS, BDSM

Steve and Bucky are friends. Best Friends. If asked, Bucky would say he knows absolutely everything about Steve. Except when it comes to sex. Steve lives such a monastic existence that Bucky doesn't know if he likes girls, boys, or none of the above. For all he knows, Steve may have no interest in sex whatsoever.

But then a mission goes wrong, Steve is bleeding out from a wound to the femoral artery and Bucky is trying to stop the bleeding when his hand brushes against metal. Where there most definitely shouldn't be metal. Or a padlock. And most definitely not a torturously small cage.

48 hours by Whendoestheshipsail (restricted to AO3 users only) - Words: 25,894 | Post-CW, S, DS, Top!Bucky, Bottom!Steve

Steve is keeping it together. No one would say he's keeping it together well, but he's getting by. Mission after mission, he goes back to his apartment in Wakanda and breaks down. Then he watches Bucky sleep and tries to not notice how everyone looks at him like he's the saddest bastard that ever lived.

But, this time is different. This time, Steve goes back to his apartment post-mission and Bucky is awake, out of cryo and making them dinner in Steve's kitchen. The breakdown is still happening. Bucky isn't pleased, but he does have a plan. For 48 hours after every mission, Steve is going to let Bucky take care of him or he's going to be on Steve's next mission. He can't risk losing Bucky again. Which should make the decision simple.

It isn't simple.

The Sex Therapist ♥ by Whendoestheshipsail (restricted to AO3 users only) - Words: 179,941 | S, DS, DKink, Top!Bucky, Bottom!Steve, Current/Past Steve/Sharon

Sharon has given him an ultimatum- either go to sex therapy or it's over. Sex therapy sounds like normal therapy but more humiliating and expensive. It's total BS. He will go because she's making him, but he will also make everyone's lives miserable (Yeah, including his own) and never return again.

Do they have a lot of sex? No. Does Sharon want more sex? Yes. Does Steve do his best? Yeah, actually, he does. He can get it up, he just needs time. Alone. There's... preparation involved. It's not like one just 'is' aroused.

He can't explain it. And he won't. He definitely won't tell Bucky what exactly he thinks about to get worked up enough to screw his girlfriend.

Found My Place in Time - Cap_D, humapuma - Words: 12,492 | Post-EG (Divergence, duh) S, Fluff, Top!Steve, Bottom!Bucky

“Buck,” he heard Steve say, “wake up. We’re here.” Bucky opened his eyes and rolled his shoulders, trying to ease some of the tension out of his back. When Steve’s words sunk in, though, he turned and leaned forward, staring past Steve’s chest to look out the window. Beyond the wing of the plane, he found a beautiful coastline with white sand, blue waters, and palm trees, as well as rows of bungalows on the water. “Wow,” he murmured. “We’re staying in one of those, right?”

In which Steve invites Bucky on a trip to Fiji and they discover something a lot more than beautiful vistas and friendly locals.

Total Institution ♥ from the Institutions of Love and Incarceration series by thelittlestpurplecat - Words: 94,303 | Canon Universe AU, Prison!AU, Guard!Steve, Prisoner!Bucky, Unrequited Love, Slow Burn, WS Trial

The Winter Soldier has been sentenced to life without parol. His entire world had been condensed to a hot, cramped cell that he hasn't seen the outside of in the four years since his apprehension. It's hell. He has no means of escape, no means of terminating his suffering, and no means of distraction...that is, until he's assigned a new guard. Steve Rogers is assigned the Winter Soldier as his singular charge. He expects a sadistic, violent murderer. What he finds instead is a broken, tormented man with no memory of his past life, and no control over what had been done to him. He's a victim. Not a monster. And Steve won't stand to see him pay for crimes over which he had no control.

Raise Your Glass by minkeys - Words: 10,008 | Top!Bucky, Bottom!Steve, Light DS, S, DKink

Bucky knows Steve in ways that his 21st century friends could never even begin to imagine. Or at least, they couldn't until tonight. It's about time somebody corrected all those historians that painted Steve as a straight-laced, God-fearing soldier, and what better way to do it than over a harmless game of "Never Have I Ever." What's the worst that could be said?

b) SHRUNKYCLUNKS

Waking Up Slow ♥ by odetteandodile - Words: 44,638 | Dad!Bucky, Kid!Fic, Hurt/Comfort

In 1945 Steve Rogers crashed the Valkyrie into the Arctic Ocean and was never recovered.

In 2019 Bucky Barnes is walking along the beach below the decommissioned lighthouse where he lives with his sixteen month old daughter when he finds the body of a man washed up in the surf, half frozen but miraculously alive.

Bucky manages to revive him, but finds that the stranger has no memory of who he is or how he got here aside from a name: Steve. Snowed in by a blizzard soon after and unable to get Steve a medevac, Bucky discovers that the funny, good-hearted man slips into the fabric of his and Alice’s life faster than he would have thought possible. The two are undeniably drawn to each other, but as their feelings grow so does the looming possibility that the answer to the question “who is Steve?” might be much more complicated than either of them realized.

Isn't It Ironic? (Don't You Think?) ♥ by HeyBoy, Huntress79, imhereforgaysuperheroes - Words: 33,342 | Jewish, Dad!Bucky, Kid!Fic

Bucky is used to his daughter bursting into tears in the middle of department stores. What he isn't used to is someone braving the wails and actually being able to stop Becca's tantrum in its tracks. Oh, and he's also not used to that someone being Captain America.

AKA, how Steve Rogers calms a screaming kid in Target and falls in love with two more Barneses than he had bargained for.

in my condition love's the best physician by aniloquent - Words: 9,177 | Pharmacy!AU, Russian!Bucky

“This situation is a little more delicate because I don't even know if he speaks English and I'm tired of going down to the pharmacy for constipation medication and allergy pills when I haven't sneezed since 1941.” Steve shouts.

The room falls silent, and he turns back around to find four pairs of stunned eyes watching him.

Tony, as always, speaks first. “He?”

Or the one where Bucky is a hot pharmacist and Steve keeps making up bullshit reasons to go see him.

c) MODERN AU

Home Is Wherever I'm With You ♥ by cydonic - Words: 88,570 | Neighbors!AU, Slow Burn, Parent!Steve, Kid!Fic

This is what happens when you buy a house to flip having only seen the online images: you get more than you bargained for. Bucky Barnes brings all the tools to handle a dilapidated home, but he's hardly prepared for a smart-mouthed child (with poor aim), a crying baby, and the hottest dad he's ever seen in his life living right next door.

That House-Flipper!AU.

if only you could see me (for the pie that i am) ♥ by bitelikefire (theoleo) | Words: 35,121 | Baker!Steve, WeddingPlanner!Bucky

In which Steve is the proud owner of Frost; a semi famous local bakery in D.C. And despite the overwhelming insistence that it’s about time he start dating, Steve swears up and down he isn’t ready for that.

Or as of recently, just doesn’t have the time because of Mr. Barnes. The highly demanding wedding planner on the phone who keeps asking for nearly impossible deliveries and maybe Steve would like to personally strangle him. Maybe.

(There is pie. And misunderstandings. But a lot more desserts and eye rolls.)

So Alive ♥ from the Brooklyn Heights Books Series by GottaSaveBucky (Cosmic_Entity_1of4) - Words: 109,074 (Series Total: 165,440 + ongoing) | Bookstore!AU (sort of), Top!Steve, Bottom!Bucky, DKink

A man wearing a light denim jacket over a dark blue shirt came into the shop, a box tucked under his right arm. Despite it being late afternoon, he was wearing sunglasses with bright blue lenses, and his long, dark hair was pulled back in a messy little bun. A few strands had escaped, framing his strong, unshaven jawline. The man looked into the café, smiled widely, and waved in Clint’s direction as he kept walking into the bookstore, and Steve’s mouth went completely dry.

Beautiful, was the only word to describe that smile; straight, white teeth framed by full, lush, red lips, bracketed by laugh lines and an adorable dimple in his right cheek, a charming little chin cleft just visible under the light stubble—Steve was struck literally speechless. And that was before he got a glimpse of the man’s backside. Slim hips and a round, firm-looking ass led to long, lean legs that were encased in snug, dark blue jeans.

“Guh,” Steve said, watching the dark-haired man continue on to the back of the store.

The Penthouse Suite ♥ by elle1991 - Words: 15,873 | S, DS, BSDM, Top!Steve, Bottom!Bucky, Happy Ending

Bucky Barnes has the chance to earn $5,000 in one night. All he has to do is go to the penthouse suite of a luxury hotel and spend the night with his client, one enigmatic Steve Rogers.

The catch? Steve is a massive pervert, intent on using this one night to satisfy every single one of his many debauched kinks.

Even ignoring the big box of sex toys on the bed, Bucky should have known he was in trouble the moment Steve opened his mouth and said his first words: "My name is Steve Rogers, but you can call me Sir..."

Burnin' For You by GoldBlooded - Words: 15,753 | Firefighter!Steve, Detective!Bucky, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Top!Steve, Bottom!Bucky

Steve Rogers is Fire Captain of Brooklyn’s very busy Station 118. He wants three things out of life: People he can count on, for everyone to get through their shifts safe and sound, and for Sergeant James Barnes to get the hell off of his arson scene.

James Barnes is Detective Sergeant of Brooklyn’s very busy 107th Precinct. He wants three things out of life: A decent cup of coffee, good leads to chase, and for Captain Steven Rogers to get the hell off of his arson scene.

Everyone knows to steer clear when these two have to deal with each other. Everyone knows about their mutual dislike and sometimes hatred. But what everyone doesn't know? How they got to be like that in the first place.

Collar Full of Chemistry ♥ from the Rich People Are Wild Series by 2bestfriends - Words: 188,437 (Series Total: 219,519) | Heavy BDSM, DS, S, Top!Steve, Bottom!Bucky

Steve is very rich and desperate to feel in control of his life again after a recent divorce has left him feeling bitter and lonely. When he keeps crossing paths with a disaster twenty-something, an unconventional solution presents itself. Steve's always been one for following his instincts.

Bucky is very broke and can't seem to catch a break, especially after some asshole fires him for one fucking mistake. So of course, it follows that he should sign a contract agreeing to do everything and anything that same asshole wants for a whole year in exchange for a payout that could finally change his life for the better.

Toothpaste Kisses ♥ by buckybees - Words: 18,736 | Dentist!Steve, Patient!Bucky, Amputee!Bucky

Sitting in the horribly antiseptic gateway to hell, otherwise known as the waiting room, Bucky was deeply reassessing his life choices. Maybe if he didn’t eat ice cream for every meal this wouldn’t have happened.

Steve's a dentist, Bucky's a patient. You know the drill.

Out of the Blue ♥ by IsabellaJack - Words: 37,564 | PreSerum!Steve, Detective!Bucky (and Sam!), Mystery!Fic

“Does she have family?” Barnes asks again.

Steve tries to remember. “I don’t know.”

“You sing her praises and don’t know a simple info like that?” Barnes huffs, looking irritated.

Love Is An Ocean Wide by fancyh - Words: 29,009 | Shapeshifter!AU, Orca!Bucky, Marine Biologist!Steve

When marine biologist Steve Rogers helps to rescue an injured orca from the marine traffickers Hydra, he has no idea how his life will change. Once rehabilitated, the orca is released and disappears, and a despondent Steve throws himself into his work, only to feel a spark when a new volunteer arrives, a man with one arm and curiously familiar blue eyes.

Bucky has lived in the ocean his whole life. But when his family is killed and his sister captured by Hydra, he is forced to turn to humans for help. One human in particular intrigues him, a man by the name of Steve. As Bucky comes ashore to search for his sister, he finds himself falling for the man, but dangerous secrets still stand between them.

Includes clueless-about-humans Bucky, heart-eyes-Steve, and lots of Very Important rocks.

Innocent Until ♥ by L1av - Words: 136,866 | Lawyer!Bucky, Defendant!Steve, DS, BDSM, Top!Bucky, Bottom!Steve

Bucky Barnes made a name for himself as the attorney who could get anyone off, but he still lives by the saying, "Innocent until proven guilty." Steve Rogers finds himself on trial for multiple homicides but he swears he was only trying to protect a girl. Bucky's been in this business long enough to know when someone's innocent, and Steve is innocent. Steve already feels like a monster and Bucky's worried this guy's going to lay himself on the sword come his trial. So Bucky offers up another course for punishment:

Turns out, chains and whips really excite Steve.

Brooklyn Syndrome ♥ by lordelannette - Words: 158,350 | DARKFIC, Dark!Steve (VERY DARK, heed the tags, you have been warned) Doctor!Steve, Writer!Bucky, Kidnapping, Slow Burn, Graphic Violence

Bucky's back was pressed against the cold floor and he stared through blurry eyes as Steve stood over him. He was trying to push himself as far away as he could, using his hands and bare feet to slide himself out from between Steve's legs but he couldn't find purchase against the wooden floor. Steve's legs were locked on both sides of his hips and Bucky couldn't move, couldn't get away, and the room was swimming before his eyes and he couldn't focus, couldn't think straight. All he could make out was the hazy figure of Steve towering over him and he lifted his arm to push uselessly at Steve's shin.

"P-please," Bucky whispered. His voice was weak, like him, and his jaw trembled as Steve reached down.

Steve slid down onto the floor and effortlessly gathered him into his strong arms, cradling Bucky to his chest as he leaned against the wall. "Bucky," Steve breathed. One of his large hands slid gently into Bucky's hair, the other curving against his spine and pulling him even closer. "You're mine now, remember?"

Steve's grip tightened then it all went black.

lay me down (tell me i've been found) by coffeeinallcaps - Words: 25,188 | Modern!AU, DS, Top!Steve, Bottom!Bucky

The collar is a little on the heavy side, and incredibly soft against Bucky's skin. Even softer than he thought it would be. It seems to fit snugly, and for a second he feels like he can't breathe. Then, Steve slides two fingers under the collar and runs them along the inside, almost all the way around. Bucky shivers. Goose bumps spread down his back, his arms. "How does it feel?" Steve murmurs, hooking his fingers into the ring and giving a gentle tug on it. Bucky swallows. Nods.

(In which billionaire businessman Steve shows up and turns Bucky's life into an improbable fantasy.)

All Those Things You've Always Pined For by LavenderProse - Words: 92,142 | Family Man (2000) aka the Nicholas Cage movie AU, Domestic, Kid!Fic, PreSerum!Steve

“Steve Rogers. I haven’t thought about him in…God, at least ten years. Probably longer." “Who is he?” Sharon asks, and perches on the corner of his desk, hands folded in her lap. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Bucky clears his throat, tosses the sticky note onto the desk. “Steve was…my college boyfriend. We almost got married.”

It's been fifteen years since Bucky Barnes left Steve Rogers standing in a New York airport and never saw him again. Those fifteen years have brought him wealth and stability; everything his lower middle class Brooklyn upbringing had not provided. He is happy. He doesn't want for anything. He doesn't need anything. That's about to change.

Karma's A Fake Orgasm ♥ by daisymondays - Words: 51,637 | College!AU, Friends to Lovers, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Humor, Slow Burn

There’s another abandoned mug, festering with mould in the living room — Steve offically has the world's worst roommates. And complains about them. Often. Bucky, tired of his lack of action, decides it’s time to avenge Steve's sleepless nights and unsanitary conditions once and for all. They’ll pretend to be the world’s most annoying couple: excessive PDA, loud fake sex, and general repugnance. The plan sounds easy enough; it will be strictly platonic. Or will it?

I'll Be Your Shield by 17 pansies (17pansies) - Words: 23,332 | Bodyguard!Steve, Rich!Bucky, Top!Steve, Bottom!Bucky

"If he's just minor nobility, why does he need a bodyguard?" Steve shoved the folder which held Barnes' details towards the middle of the table. "He's not exactly prime kidnap material."

"His parents aren't worried about kidnapping," Fury said. "They need someone to steer him away from the dumb ass situations he keeps getting into."

"You mean he needs a babysitter." Steve sat back and folded his arms. "Seriously."

I think this is a pretty diverse list :) There’s a good sample of everything here, some old fashioned post TWS recovery fics, some good dom steve/bucky, slow burns, fake pretend relationships and so forth!

PS: I’m on AO3 with more bookmarks plus my own hurt/comfort fics if anyone is interested :P

#stucky #stevebucky #bucky barnes x steve rogers #shrunkyclunks #stucky fanfiction #stucky fanfic rec #stucky fanfic #stucky fanfiction rec #stucky fic #stucky fic rec #modern au #canon divergence #marvel #my reclist #long post for ts

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criticallyacclaimedstranger · 3 years

Text

Fic: So Close Yet So Far Away

Fandom: Triple Frontier

Ship: Frankie Morales x Jay 'Lady' Ray

Warnings: Language, talk of sex, throwback to sex, Pope is a crude asshole. Yearnnniinnngggg.

Summary: Lady and Pope get into an argument and Frankie sorts her out. Cue some elite level yearning.

A/N: HAHAHA I wasn't even meant to write this today but I woke up with this on my mind and I just had to because they're my BABIES. This is an instalment in the Frankie x Lady series and takes place back when Lady was in Frankie's squad, before they were an item.

Jay should have known better than to ask about everyone’s weekend. She just wanted to make small talk while they got prepped for a field exercise. She wasn’t ready to hear about their night out on Saturday, how Santi, Frankie, and Benny all scored some willing chicks, Will only missing out because he had a girlfriend, not because he didn’t pull.

All the while Jay was stuck with her family, listening to her mother go on about how she was too good for the army, she should leave while she was still alive, get a normal job, marry, have kids… She could have been out with the guys, maybe get lucky herself and if not, at least have a fun night. Get drunk instead of sad.

And now she finds herself listening to Santi talk about his one night stand, not giving Benny a chance to talk about his, while Frankie, quite characteristically, clammed up about personal stuff.

“Nutted her so fucking hard and all she did was beg for more,” Santi brags, “best fuck I had in ages…”

Jay’s been in the military since she was 18. She knows how soldiers talk, she’s heard it all, she’s participated in the crude joking, she’s not put off by it. But on this Monday morning, while the squad is assembling their equipment, she doesn’t want to hear it.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Pope, do you fucking have to talk like that?” she barks, unable to hear one more word about his sexual conquests. The rest of them cease their activities in wait for Pope’s reply. Working so closely together, sometimes spending weeks cramped up on assignments builds close bonds but also breeds discord. It’s normal to be at each other’s throats from time to time but it’s rarely Jay who flies off the handle.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, My Lady,” Santi replies with a smirk, his voice at its most velvety. “I meant I made passionate love to her all night – “

“You are so fucking disgusting, you know that?” Jay hisses. “Just shut the fuck up about the whole thing, nobody wants to hear about it.”

“Clearly not you,” Pope drawls, quick to anger. In the corner of her eye, Jay notices Will shake his head at him. Don’t engage, bro, just drop it. But Santiago Garcia is someone who doesn’t let things slide when he’s in gear.

“When was the last time you got laid, Ray? You need to get those pipes cleared out. Get some d.”

When was the last time? Too long ago. She does have an itch but last time she scratched it, it just didn’t feel right. She had the same feeling of detachment as she experienced just now when she heard about last Saturday night, particularly the fact that Frankie got laid.

It’s not that she’s jealous. She’s just more comfortable with the idea that Frankie doesn’t sleep around with anyone.

“A dick isn’t going to solve my problems, Santi, unless it’s a big one up your sorry ass,” she snaps, a rude laugh from Benny telling her she scored a point. Staring hard at Pope, whose ridiculously handsome features show an obnoxious amount of amusement, she knows that he won’t budge until he’s drawn metaphorical blood.

“Just name the time and the place, Ray, I’ll be there. Will you?”

“Okay, knock it off.” It’s Frankie, of course. The voice of reason. “Redfly’s gonna be here any minute and I don’t want to do extra laps just because you two can’t play nice.”

Frankie always has that calming effect on her, even now when she’s inexplicably mad at him for having fooled around with some random girl he picked up at their usual dive. Is there a possibility of her being there again in the future? Jay doesn’t want to think about it. Right now, she focuses on the sense that Frankie’s words make. It’s not worth it. Santi’s not worth it.

“Just stay away from me, asshole,” she warns Santi before going back to her kit. The tension in the room eases and Benny, who’s closest to Jay, gives her a brief pat on the back and a nod that says Good call. She hears Frankie murmur something to Santi behind her back, then Santi’s mutter: “She on the rag or something?”

That does it. Jay throws down her backpack and spins around.

“You say that to my face, you piece of shit,” she growls, taking a step forward. Her body is quivering with pent up rage in need of an outlet and knocking Pope on his ass would serve as an adequate one.

“Jay, he’s not worth it,” Benny tries to placate her but she barely hears him. Her whole focus is directed at Pope and his shit-eating grin. He says one more thing…

“Got your panties in a twist?”

She lunges forward but doesn’t make it to Pope as several hands grab her and hold her back.

“Hey, hey, hey!”

“Calm the fuck down, Ray!”

“Crazy bitch – “

“You’re on really thin ice, too, Pope! Shut that motherfucking mouth of yours!”

Benny is physically restraining her as she practically vibrates with desire to beat the crap out of Santi, who’s held back by Frankie.

“Ray, he’s not worth it,” Benny tells her. “Take a walk. Smoke. Calm down. He’s an asshole.”

He’s right and Jay knows it. Mustering up all of her willpower, Jay rolls back onto her heels, straightens her back, and squares her shoulders. Without looking at anyone, she turns around and stomps out.

Frankie finds her by the vehicles, in the backseat of a Humvee. Her fore and middle fingers are rubbing against her thumb: she’s quit smoking but is clearly wishing she had a cigarette right now. Frankie climbs into the backseat from the other side and pulls up a pack from his pocket, offering it to her without words. Jay hesitates but eventually takes one and leans closer to him when he flicks open his lighter. Frankie can smell the anger on her, a sweaty tightness that radiates from her muscles. She sits back, inhaling deeply before exhaling in a frustrated puff of smoke.

“Fuck,” she mutters, “I don’t wanna die because of these.”

“I thought you quit?”

“I did.” She throws him a glance and a grimace before flicking the cigarette out through the open door. “I thought you quit as well?”

“I keep them around for emergencies like this,” he shrugs. Jay looks pointedly at him.

“Then you haven’t truly quit, have you?”

He loves it how she puts him on the spot like this, provokes him, forces him to reconsider, change his way of thinking. She always does it with such ease, sometimes with a teasing glint in her eye. She just makes him want to be a better person.

“I guess not.” He throws her a small smile that goes unreciprocated. She stares into the back of the seat in front of her, lips tight. Frankie would love to just sit here in silence and let her lead, let her open up in due time, but he knows that if they don’t join the others soon, Tom is going to make a scene.

“Pope’s an asshole,” he states. Jay scoffs but says nothing. “But what’s up with you? You usually don’t let shit like that get to you.”

Her nostrils flare and he sees the muscles of her throat flex. Eventually, she parts her lips to speak, her voice strained.

“I spent the weekend with my dear mother, my brother, and his family. And you know what mom’s like.”

Frankie nods. Yes, he’s heard about Jay’s mother and the dislike the woman has for her daughter’s career choice. The older brother is married with one kid and another on the way and he, of course, is a saint, a pinnacle of human achievement, his children the very essence of what makes a successful life, his wife the perfect picture of Woman.

Jay suddenly twitches, then kicks at the seat in front of her.

“Fuck!I hate this fucking shit!”

Frankie refrains from putting a hand on her shoulder, no matter how much he would like to. He might end up with a broken nose.

“I cut her off,” Jay says tonelessly. “Completely.”

“About fucking time, Jay.” He’s been waiting for this to happen and he wants to tell her that he’s proud of her but it’s not his prerogative, no matter how much he would like it to be.

“Yeah,” she agrees, still not looking at him. “I kept hoping that she’d get her shit together but…” Her voice trails off and she swallows hard. “Fuck. I miss my dad.”

“He’d be proud of you,” Frankie assures her, biting off the endearment that threatened to escape him. Mi amor. Querida. He wants to be able to call her that, wants to be the one she’d come to with her sadness. Wants to be the one to call her mother and tell her to go suck an egg.

“You should’ve called,” he tells her but she only shakes her head. Stubborn as a mule.

“You were out. I didn’t want to ruin your night.”

It had been ruined the moment Santi laid eyes on the company of three young women by the bar. He had zoned in on the curvy brunette and Benny had picked the fiery redhead, leaving Frankie with the blonde. He didn’t want her, didn’t want any of the others, but he had fallen for the peer pressure and for every drink, he figured it could be a good idea to get laid. The girl was pretty, funny, nice. She had a hot body and was clearly willing. They had gone to her place and he had treated her like he would treat every woman he slept with: he ate her out, giving her several orgasms with his tongue before even thinking about putting his dick in her.

She had insisted on riding him. Frankie didn’t mind but as she bounced on his cock, her round, heavy tits jiggling in front of him, he didn’t see her face anymore. No, it was Jay all along, Jay’s long, lean body on top of him, Jay sinking down on him, her slick, hot pussy swallowing his cock while he swallowed her moan. The fantasy had become so real that he had to wrangle the woman off of him and take her from behind instead.

He left in silence once she was asleep, crept out like an asshole, a coward. He usually asked a woman if she wanted him to stay, he had once upon a time enjoyed having breakfast the next morning, sharing kisses when he finally left. But now, it all felt like cheating.

“You wouldn’t have ruined the night,” he tells her quietly. “It wasn’t that good.”

“The night or the sex?”

“The latter.” His ears are burning and he refuses to look at her.

“Too much to drink?” There it is: that sweet, amiable little taunt she saves for him only – or at least he hopes she does. He’s never heard her speak like that to any of the other guys.

“Wrong girl.”

Jay turns her head and looks at him. The distance between them in the backseat seems to shrink and grow at the same time when he returns her gaze. The hairs at the nape of his neck rise when he loses himself in the fathomless ocean-blue of her eyes.

He has to kiss her. He mustn’t kiss her.

“Are you two done with your fucking therapy session?”

Both of them startle when Tom shows up by the open door on Frankie’s side.

“I have an exercise op to run and I don’t have time to wait for you to feel quite ready, Ray,” he adds before slapping his hand to the roof of the Humvee. “Get your asses in gear.”

He leaves without having noticed anything. Frankie wonders how it’s even possible. Didn’t Tom feel the air crackle with electricity? Didn’t he hear how hard his heart was beating?

Jay gets out of the vehicle and slams the door shut, and Frankie follows suit. As they walk back, keeping a distance of two feet between them, Jay murmurs a Thank you, Morales to him.

“Sure,” he replies easily, forcing himself to sound neutral. “I got you, Ray.”

#my fic #triple frontier #francisco catfish morales #francisco frankie morales #frankie morales x ofc #frankie morales x lady

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