#woman: 'but why are you pulling such awful faces?' man: 'i'm trying to concentrate on producing good handwriting so she can understand me'

[prettybrownelf]

I need Eddie Munson x male reader who Acts lile Wednesday Addams!! Pleaseeeee

a/n- I hope you enjoy!

The Cold Goth And The Eccentric MetalHead

Non MLM/NBLM DNI

Pairings- Eddie Munson x Male Reader

Summary- Eddie finally gets a date with the goth he's been obsessed with

Word Count- 926

Content Warnings- None, Slight Fluff

To say Eddie was excited was an understatement.

He had been working up the nerve to ask you out for weeks, and he honestly didn't expect you to say yes. Of course, you didn't exactly seem excited about it, you just gave him a stone-faced ‘ok’, but that doesn't matter now. He finally gets to go out on a date with the boy he couldn't stop thinking about.

Robin said it probably wasn't a good idea, that you would probably break his heart in some way, but Eddie didn't care. He understood why everyone else would think that about you, but he saw something different. You weren't just a cold-hearted goth to him, there's more to you, and Eddie wants to see it.

Eddie's legs refuse to stay still as he paces in front of the carnival. ‘Did he stand me up? Did he just say yes to get me to go away?’ Eddie's thoughts are stopped by the familiar monotone voice he loved so much. “Munson?” His eyes shoot to you immediately, scanning over your black and white clothes. You stood with perfect posture, hands held firmly behind your back. Eddie a soft smile crawls over Eddie's face as he messes with the chain at his side. “Hey! You look great.” You seem weirded out by his compliment but nod anyway. “Likewise.” Eddie moves to the side and bows jokingly. “This way my good sir.” You say nothing as you make your way past him, Eddie standing beside you as you both make your way into the carnival.

Bright lights and colors surround the two of you as Eddie stops at one of the games. He picks up one of the fake guns as the woman behind the counter takes a ticket from him. Sweat builds on his hands as he tries to keep his concentration straight. ‘Don't embarrass yourself. Don't embarrass yourself.’ But ultimately, he does.

Eddie groans as he puts the gun back, looking at his score of three. The woman shrugs and wishes him luck next time. He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly as he turns back to you. “Sorry, I was trying to win you that big back bear up there.” You're silent as you hand the woman one of your tickets, picking up the fake gun. The wooden panels move back and forth as Eddie watches in awe. Your face is straight as normal as you effortlessly hit every single panel. The woman behind the table seems taken aback as she asks which prize you'd like. You wordlessly point up to the large black bear. Eddie stands like an idiot as you look up at him, holding the bear in your arms. “Let's go.”

Eddie follows quickly behind you as you make your way further into the carnival. “Holy shit dude, how’d you do that?” “I loved hunting with my father when I was younger, it was a great bonding experience.” Eddie nods. “I used to hunt with my uncle, mostly deer though. What did you guys hunt?” You look up at him, face never changing. “Anything that wouldn't run fast enough.” Eddie nods slowly as you look away from him. Eddie was getting nervous. You didn't seem to be enjoying your time, no matter how many jokes he cracked you didn't even give a hint of a smile. Eddie walks with you to the entrance as the night comes to an end.

Suddenly, a small booth catches Eddie's eye. “Stay here for a minute.” He says as he runs off before he can hear your response. The old man behind the counter looks up at him and smiles. “Hey, could I get that scorpion necklace?” He nods as Eddie ruffles through his pockets for money. The second the chain is in his hand Eddie runs back to you, quickly thanking the man.

Normally Eddie would try to be more put together, but his mouth is moving before his mind can tell him to stop. “Listen, I know this really isn't your scene, and I'm sorry if this was just a huge bore for you.” Eddie pulls out the small necklace, a small scorpion contained in gelatin in a small jar.

For the first time all night, Eddie sees a spark of something in your eyes. “So I got you this, I thought it was kinda your style.” You wordlessly turn around for him to put it on you. Eddie prays you don't notice how he clearly enjoyed touching your skin as you turn back to him, holding the small jar in your fingers.

Eddie's face lights up as a small smile crawls to your face. “This is magnificent.” But the smile is gone just as quickly as it came as you look up at him. “I will cherish it till my dying breath.” Eddie smiles as he walks you to the front of the carnival. Before he's able to say his goodbyes, you turn away from him. “I really enjoyed our time together tonight Munson, I would like it if we could do this again.” Eddie can feel the blush on his face as you turn back to him, refusing to meet his eyes. “Yeah! Yeah, we can absolutely do this again.” You seem conflicted as you take a small step toward him, Eddie moves closer, feeling his face getting redder. You quickly kiss him on the lips as you immediately begin walking away, leaving Eddie in shock. “I'll see you later Munson!”

Eddie smiles to himself as he watches you go. “Yeah, I'll see you later.”

#eddie munson x male reader #male reader #x male reader #stranger things x male reader

[rebeccccccaaa]

ʜᴏʟᴅ ᴀ ʟᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴄʟᴏsᴇ

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ғʀᴀᴛ ʙᴏʏ!sᴛᴇᴠᴇ ʀᴏɢᴇʀs x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: you and steve hooked up once and neither of you can forget that night

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: smut 18+ minors dni plz, kinda rough? but of course major fluffy aftercare from soft boi stevie, bit of inexperienced reader and insecure reader

(accidentally written unprotected sex but this is fanfiction lmao plz be safe irl)

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇs: ive never participated in a challenge before and i think @honeysucklesteve is just the sweetest so hope you like it el! And congrats on 4k :T

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“And the interesting thing about that, mind I add…” the words of your professor falling short because you can’t shake the feeling of his eyes looking at you.

You kept your head low fighting the urge within you not to look back. A couple nights ago you landed yourself in the bed of the infamous frat president Steve Rogers and to make matters worse, you both major in American Studies meaning you share all of your classes.

You didn’t have much experience with guys in high school so it wasn’t surprising when you had the same experience in college. What was surprising was the fact you spent a night in the arms of one of the most handsome men you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Steve Rogers was a huge catch. Teachers loved him, girls chased him,and guys wanted to be him.

You remember that night so vividly.

The way his hands fit so perfectly on your hips. The way his lips felt so hot against your own burning skin; and moved perfectly against yours. The things he whispered in your ear. They way he held you close when you fell asleep in his arms. The way you hated yourself the next morning when you snuck out. The way your tummy flutters simply because he’s looking at you right now.

You breathed out shakily before turning your head to find his eyes with yours; he looked away the moment you did shyly, very unlike him. Fuck he was gonna be the death of you.

“And that should be the end of the lecture. I’m gonna go ahead let you guys go a little early. Have a good weekend everyone and make sure to check your emails,” the professor gathered his things and left.

You packed your things quickly trying your best to avoid his gaze that you knew was still on you. Steve packed quickly too before walking hot on your tail, just about to call your name until…

“Hey, Y/n,” Bucky called out.

“Oh, hey Buck.”

“It’s the weekend and as usual the guys and I want to party tonight. But the dean said one more noise complaint about our house and we get on academic probation so we’re asking a couple of people who might wanna come to the club with us.”

Behind Bucky you could see Steve walking towards you two and your stomach sank. Bucky and Steve were best friends and you don’t know if Steve told him that you guys slept together last weekend. What if something happens again tonight if you say yes. Why are you even thinking that something could happen again? Steve Rogers is way out of your league it was a miracle that you landed a chance to be his bed warmer in the first place.

“I’ll see you for lunch, man,” Steve said to Bucky patting his best friend's shoulders. His eyes lingering with yours until you had to pull away.

“I don’t think I should,” you told him, walking towards the door.

“Come on, Nat told me you're quite the party animal and you left early last week I didn’t get to see you in action,” Bucky chuckled, walking with you. You didn’t leave early…

“Buck,” you looked at him.

“Please?” he asked. You exhaled sharply rolling your eyes before walking away to your next class.

“Is that a yes?” he shouted, making you turn around with a cheeky grin. You got to your next class and noticed Steve sitting in a new seat today, particularly the one next to the seat you usually sit in. None of his housemates or regular friends took this specific lecture so he usually sat in the very back corner alone. But today here he is.

His head snapped up when you entered the room. You hesitantly sat down next to him still avoiding his eyes. You set up your laptop on the small table as did Steve; both your eyes glancing at each other quite awkwardly until Steve finally interrupts the silence.

“You coming tonight?” he whispered.

“What’s in it for me if I do?” you said playfully.

“A repeat of the best night you’ve ever had,” he said cheekily.

“Oh, really,” you chuckled sarcastically as he nodded with an overly proud smirk.

“Probably not,” you answer his question.

“Seriously? Why not? I can pick you up,” he said.

“Steve,” you warned.

“What? Afraid you won’t be able to resist me?”

“You’re so full of it,” you said, making you both laugh.

“You were full of my dick last week,” he whispered.

“Steve!” you punched his side making him laugh hard enough for other students to take notice of your ruckus.

“Welcome class, we’ll begin the lecture in one minute. I’m just gonna pull it up on the projector,” the professor said rushing in.

“Please come tonight,” he whispered.

“Why are you obsessed with me?” you joked.

“Fuck off,” he chuckled.

“If I say ok, will you shut up for the rest of the lecture?”

“Maybe,” he grinned.

“Then maybe I’ll come,” you smirked.

Throughout the lecture Steve paid absolutely no attention whatsoever. Steve had been thinking about that night just as much as you had. The way your neck craned to the side a bit, reminding him of when he littered marks and bruises all over last week. The way you subtly bit your lip in concentration but all that clouded his mind was lust remembering how you looked so pretty from above when he was settled between your legs.

He wanted you again so badly. He wasn't going to lie, it sort of hurt him when he woke up and you weren't there. He thought maybe there was something between you two, god knows the tension was overwhelming that night. You weren't the most frisky woman he'd been with but you were sweet; slight innocence with your intimacy. He craved you.

Steve leaned towards you, his fingers twiddling with yours. You tried your best to ignore his advances despite how much you equally craved him. He ran his nose along your cheek and jaw and your breathing quickened inhumanly.

"What are you doing?" you whispered.

"Nothing, just relax," he responded. As much as he wanted to drag you out of class and fuck you so good, he knew you'd rip him a new one if he did. No matter how he'd make you feel.

"No, we're in the middle of a lecture," you argued.

"I'm not doing anything," he said humorously, you were not humored though.

"Steve," you scolded when he pressed a faint kiss under your ear.

You knew a guy like Steve was horny practically twenty-four seven, but you didn't take him to be quite clingy. Especially with someone like you. His arm wrapped under yours. His other resting on your thigh. His head tucked in the crook of your neck. It wasn't particularly sexual, but it was intimate. Something normal to couples, and you two were not a couple.

"Please come tonight," he whispered, “If not I’ll come over.”

"Ugh fine," you grunted, your voice breaking into a giggle because you did somewhat enjoy this unfamiliar attention.

Steve continued to sit next to you during the rest of your classes for the day absent mindedly teasing you, playing with your fingers, twirling your hair between his fingers, leaning his head on your shoulder while he held your hand. Like geez, take a girl out already.

By the time you got back to your shared apartment with two of your closest friends you felt conflicted. Why the sudden shift in Steve? You two weren't exactly best friends before, just two people who shared classes and accidentally slept with each during a drunken night at a frat party.

"Hey, everything ok?" Wanda asked you noticing your inner battle.

"Uh, yeah. Kinda. No," you said defeatedly making the girls chuckle.

"What happened?" Nat asked.

"That guy, that I… you know."

"Fucked?"

"Nat!" you said embarrassed.

"Go on," Wanda encouraged.

"Well, I never told you guys but the guy was Steve," you said shyly.

"What!" the girls exclaimed simultaneously.

"You're lying," Nat laughed.

"You really went from zero to a hundred," Wanda giggled.

"Guys stop," you whined.

"All day today, he's been like super clingy. Holding my hand and pretending he's like my boyfriend."

"Wait, I thought you liked him?" Nat asked, confused.

"I mean I do, but it's sudden and I'm pretty sure it's only because he wants to get in my pants again, you know?" you rationed.

"Awe, I don't think that's true. I've known Steve for a bit and yeah he sleeps around sometimes but he's not a giant dick. Doing that would be way too shallow, especially for Steve," Nat said.

“Yeah but don’t you think it’s weird?” you asked.

“Look did Bucky ask you about tonight?” Nat asked.

“Yeah, he did- how do you know that?” you asked, confused.

“Oh- Uh,” Nat paused.

“She asked Buck to invite you,” Wanda snickered.

“Why?” you asked.

“Well, you never go out with us and the last time you did we thought you just went home but apparently you were getting laid,” Nat cackled.

“Oh my- shut up,” you huffed before storming off to your room.

“Wait! Can you at least come with us tonight?” Wanda followed you.

“No,” you giggled.

“Please!” both girls said at the same time. As you closed your door with a grin on your face not responding.

Hours later you laid on your bed lowly listening to the soft rumbling chaos from your comedic roommates. You stayed in your not so sexy undergarments and not so sexy sweatpants along with a hoodie you stole from your brother before you moved.

You ate the junk you’ve stocked up on the past few weeks feeling a bit glum. It’s not that you didn’t necessarily want to go, you would love to spend another night in that gorgeous man’s arms but there’s absolutely no way Steve is gonna want you the way you’d like him too. Not sober.

There was a subtle knock on your door and you called out knowing the girls were probably ready to leave.

"How do we look?" Nat asked, walking into your room with Wanda.

"Wow, you guys look hot," you said sitting up.

"You think Vis would like this or is it too much?" Wanda asked sheepishly, she's had a crush on the foreign exchange student Vis for the longest time and had yet to make a move.

"I think someone's gonna have a lucky night," you wiggled your brows suggestively, making her roll her eyes and blush.

"What about you, still chasing Bryce?" you turned to Nat looked extra sexy tonight.

"His name is Bruce," she rolled her eyes.

"And yes, I am," she chuckled.

"You're so weird," you giggled, Bruce didn't seem to particularly be Nat's type but hey, no judgement.

"I heard he's got like a monster cock," you said.

"Shut up," she pushed you playfully.

“It’s always the nerds,” Wanda giggled.

"Anyways, are you sure you don't want to come?" Wanda asked sincerely.

"I'm sure," you smiled.

"Steve's gonna miss you," Nat teased.

"Yeah, I doubt that."

"Well, stay safe, cutie," the girls waved heading to the Uber that waited outside for them.

"You too!"

You sighed before grabbing more snacks to stuff your face with. A couple hours went by of sitting around watching nonsense on TV for a bit. You ate dinner that was far from fine dining but it was available before slouching on your bed until the late hours of the night.

You were practically falling asleep, tired and dry eyes glued to the screen of your small TV when you got a knock at the front door. You check the clock by your bed wondering if maybe either of the girls left their keys, but it wasn’t even midnight yet.

You clutched your phone walking hastily to the front door as quietly as possible creeping up to the peehole to see who would be your unexpected guest.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you swung the door open.

“What the hell are you wearing?” Steve retorted.

“My jamas,” you rolled eyes stepping to side to let him in.

“Seriously what are you doing here?”

“I told you earlier, you didn’t come tonight so I came to you,” he said, taking his jacket off.

“Seriously?” you tried not to smile, but the action gave you butterflies.

“You promised to come. I missed you,” he said walking up to you.

“You’re so full of shit,” you giggled, staring at his devilishly handsome grin.

“Come on, whatcha doing?” he said, grabbing your hand and taking you to the room. You three had a fairly small apartment and your light was obviously the only one on in the whole apartment making it easy for him.

“Well, before you rudely invaded my home, I was stuffing my face with all kinds of junk watching TV,” you said to him making him scowl playfully at you.

“Well, then let’s finish the rest of your junk food then,” he said laying on your bed. You still couldn’t wrap your head around the sudden shift in attention. Steve was a guy who could have anyone and he’s chasing you for some reason.

You weren’t a blonde bombshell with a perfect hourglass figure that made guys want you left and right. You had flaws that drew people away and you don’t think Steve remembers that night like you do. What if he hates your body? What if he thinks you're annoying and suddenly leaves?

“Everything alright?” Steve asked you.

“Uh, sorta,” you answered honestly.

“Come here, talk to me,” he said, opening his arms. You couldn't help your eyes narrowing at him.

“What?”

“Do you even remember anything from that night?” you whispered.

“Where’s this coming from?” he asked.

“Steve, come on,” you chuckled.

“What?”

“Do you just wanna fuck now? Make it quick so you can go back to the party-”

“Woah, who said anything about fucking?” he stood up towering over you making you suddenly feel really small and shy.

“I mean that’s why you’re here, right?”

“I came because I told you if you didn't go out with us that I was gonna hang with you. I didn’t say anything about sleeping with you. If you really want I can go home but I wanted to hang out with you,” he said sincerely.

“Oh, I- uh,” you stuttered; well now you feel like a dick.

“We can just sit and keep watching TV until you want to go to sleep and I can head out,” he said, sitting back down on your bed. You sat beside him carefully watching his movements. He kept his eyes trained on the TV for a bit before locking his eyes with yours. You turned away quickly hearing him chuckle before sudden movement escalated behind.

Steve grabbed you from behind gently and leaned back so you laid on his chest. You could feel the hard plains of muscles on your back. And the way his strong wrapped perfectly around your waist, it felt heavenly.

Steve’s jaw tightened from the hypnotizing scent of your shampoo. He remembered it from that night not long ago and he couldn’t get it out of his head.

He wasn't going to lie, since that night all he could think about was how smooth your skin was under his fingertips. How pretty you sounded when he was settled between your legs. How good it felt when your fingers carded through his hair. He wanted you so bad.

He wanted to wake you up between your thighs again. Ravish you once more before breakfast, hell eat you for breakfast. But when you weren't there sleeping as peacefully beside him like the night before, his heart tugged. Did he say something wrong? Did he do something wrong? What if he hurt you?

He gave you space, clearly evident you hadn't wanted to talk to him but those few days went by and the same lingering stares and shy glances came back again and he craved you in his arms again.

When Nat asked him and Bucky to invite you again out to party, he really wanted to be with you that night even if you didn't end the night naked in each other's arms, just being around you was enough for him. Fortunately here he is with you, with arms wrapped around your waist and Steve couldn’t be happier.

You looked so fucking adorable to wearing sweats and a hoodie; he wishes it was one of his own. You had fluffy socks on too that had dog faces on them and he swears his heart melted. What you two were watching was making you laugh and each chuckle or giggle that came from you was like music to his ears.

He couldn’t help himself when his lips pressed against the top of your head. Your body momentarily froze before relaxing again in his arms. Your arms laid over his and tightened so you could cuddle into him even more. Your eyes felt heavy and the feeling of Steve’s lips slowly reaching your neck didn’t help you want to sleep.

When his cool lips grazed your burning skin, you could feel your skin burst into chills. You practically shuddered in his arms and your face grew hot when you did. It all becomes suddenly overwhelming and you jump off on his lap turning to him with a distressed expression.

“What happened? Did I do something wrong?” Steve said worriedly.

“You did just want to sleep with me,” you mumbled tears forming in your eyes.

“What! No, that’s not it,” he panicked; using you was the last thing he wanted you to think he was doing, and wanted in general.

“Then what’s going with you? Ever since we fucked you’re suddenly attached to me, putting your hands all over me, pretending like you're my boyfriend! And I don’t understand why,” you said frustrated.

“I feel like your just using me or something-”

“That is the last thing I want,” he interrupted, his voice low.

“Then why are you doing this; Steve you could have anybody and for some fucking sick reason you keeping mocking me. Making me think I have a chance.”

“And you don’t think you do?” he asked, heart broken, making you scoff and turn away.

“Look, fine I’ll admit that maybe before that night I wouldn’t have made a move; but I’m gonna admit that I haven’t not felt something for you before,” he said, getting closer to you.

“What?”

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since we met. And that night didn’t do shit to help me get over you,” he chuckled.

You crawled to him carefully looking into his eyes for any sign that he was being untruthful; you cupped his face gently.

“Are you drunk?” you whispered.

“Not one bit.”

You pressed your lips to his feverishly and Steve nearly moaned at the feeling. His hands grasped your waist firmly pulling you to sit comfortably on his lap. His hands crept under your hoodie holding you close.

Your hands rested on his broad shoulders holding yourself up as slowly leaned back onto your pillows. Your cold hands cupped his face as you deepened the kiss and his hand went to rest on your bottom.

With this new found position, his chest pressed against yours, his hips grinded up allowing you to feel all of him. Every pushing second you grew needier and whiny, practically clawing at his shirt to feel his skin.

"So needy already. And I've hardly touched you," he chuckled lowly in your ear.

He sat up nonetheless and stripped his shirt revealing his gorgeous physique that kept you up at night and infiltrated your dirtiest dreams. You brushed your hands all over his chest with your bottom lip between your teeth; Steve smirking slightly proud of the effect he had on you simply by having his shirt off.

"Come on, pretty girl. I wanna see you too," he's whispered before kissing you softly.

"Wait, I don't…" you didn't particularly feel very sexy and instantly became insecure about your body compared to Steve's.

"It's ok, we can cuddle," he smiled.

"Well, if I'm being honest I do want you. It's just, I just ate all this junk food and I'm not wearing anything sexy. I didn't shave and-"

"Hey, I don't care. You don't need to impress me or wear anything special for me. I just want you to look pretty sitting on my face and make pretty sounds telling me how I'm gonna make you feel."

Your body trembled at his words, arousal instantly flooding from you. His nose brushed against your cheek dragging along to your jawline before pressing kisses gingerly to your jaw and neck. His hands slowly lifted your hoodie and you raised your hands letting him remove your hoodie.

Your shoulders caved in out of habit, being topless in front of handsome men wasn't normally on your schedule; but the look in Steve's eyes, the look on his face holding a hungry and adorning expression made you more comfortable, reaching out to cup his face kissing him deeply.

You sighed breathlessly into the kiss as Steve's hands rubbed your sides. You pulled away momentarily only to put your lips on Steve's neck. Steve felt himself growing harder and needier to see you, feel you, pleasure you.

"Pretty girl, I need you. Lemme taste you, please," he whined.

He picked you up and laid down on your back to pull your sweatpants down your legs. You lifted your hips for him and he smiled cheekily at you biting his lip. Steve lifted your leg kissing the inside of your calf staring at with those hungry eyes.

"I still wanna see you sitting on my face, pretty girl," Steve said, pulling to him.

"Are you sure? I don't wanna crush you or anything," you whispered, making Steve chuckle.

Steve laid down assuring you that he wanted this and grabbed your hand helping you straddle his face. When you did Steve kissed the inside of your thighs playfully nipping and marking the sensitive skin making you gasp.

Steve wrapped his hands around your thighs bringing your center impossibly close to him, finally licking a long and wet stripe up your slit. Your moans were soft at first but when Steve started circling his tongue around your clit, you could help getting louder and bucking your hips grinding on his face.

Steve’s eyes were close relishing in your sex. You combed your fingers through his hair and Steve moaned loudly against your pussy. He dipped his tongue past your folds and that along with the vibrations from his beautiful moans, you head threw back moaning in pure ecstasy, moaning so loud your neighbors were definitely going to file a complaint.

“Fuck, Steve. Your mouth feels so good; shit!” you whined.

His tongue circled your clit again quicker this time and you bucked your hips, tightening your stomach and squeezing your legs as you approached your high. Steve kneaded the soft flesh of your ass lapping up everything you gave him.

Steve crawled from under you as you held onto the headboard, still standing on your knees, trying to catch your breath. Steve came up behind you rubbing your hips softly, kissing the back of your neck softly. He quickly rid the remaining of his clothes he still wore, his painfully hard cock slapping against his stomach desperate for some sort of attention.

You breathe softly, hyper focused on the cum that slipped down your inner thighs. Your legs lightly trembled from just his mouth you couldn’t wait to feel what his cock would feel like, filling you up like it was only a week ago. Steve sat beside you looking at you with a soft smile on his face, his hand softly rubbing the back of your legs and your bottom too.

He reached around to grab your hip and slowly turned you around settling you between his legs; your back pressed against his chest as it was only moments before, more innocently than now. His lips sucked and kissed your neck as his hands cupped and kneaded the soft flesh of your breasts.

Your hands rested over his own and your hips squirmed a bit for eagerness. The low growl from Steve because your hips grinded against his cock was incredibly arousing.

“Such an eager little slut ain't cha’,” he grabbed your hair.

“Fuck,” you mumbled as he pushed you forward on your hands and knees.

“Want me to fuck you? Remind you how I felt buried so fucking deep inside you? God, I think about you every fucking night; how perfect you were wrapped around me, how beautiful you sounded underneath me,” he whispered huskily in your ear making you shudder.

“Stevie, please,” you whimpered.

His hands rubbed up and down your back as he chuckled darkly.

“Oh, I’ve been waiting to take care of you again, pretty girl,” he kissed your back softly.

He wrapped his hand around his cock slowly and languidly pumping it. He couldn’t help but tease slightly circled his tip along your entrance pulling desperate whines from you. He finally reached his own breaking point, unable to stand not being able to feel you so he pushed his hips forward moaning loudly at how tight you felt around him.

“So good, pretty girl,” he moaned.

“Fuck, Stevie. Filling me up so good; you’re so big,” you sighed.

“Damn right, pretty girl. Taking my cock so well. Fucking made for me,” he grunted.

His snapped in and out increasingly quicker with each thrust; the vulgar sounds of his movements and skin slapping against each other echoed loudly in the room. Harmonizing with both your pleasurable moans.

Chasing both your releases, Steve’s hips jerked rougher and harder in and out of you making you practically shriek at the feeling. He leaned forward wrapping his hand around your throat before pulling you flush against his chest.

“Such pretty baby,” he bit your ear.

“Fuck! Stevie I need to come,” you whined.

“Yeah, you want to come all over my cock? Make a fucking mess?” he growled.

“Please!”

“Hold on, pretty girl. I’m almost there,” he sighed, throwing his head back and closing his eyes in pleasure.

You whined and whimpered, tears brimming your eyes from that overwhelming feeling. You couldn’t help but clench hard around his cock desperately holding back for your release.

“Fuck, do that again, pretty girl,” Steve gasped.

“God, yes. I’m close, pretty girl. You ready to come?” he pulled your head back to look at your face.

Tears fell inelegantly down your cheeks, sweat lined your forehead, your chest moved rapidly up and down; to Steve, you looked ethereal.

“Please,” you whimpered.

“Let go, pretty girl. I gotcha,” he whispered against your lips.

Your eyes rolled back as your body shook against Steve’s, releasing onto his dick profoundly. Steve swallowed your louds moans, roughly pressing his lips to yours, moaning himself. You clenched hard around Steve one last time feeling his throbbing cock shoot hot ribbons of cum, coating your walls.

When you eased your way slowly down from your high, Steve laid you down gently pulling out to see his cum mixed with yours spilling from you. You looked so fucked out breathing heavily, whimpering at the loss of Steve inside you. He wanted to, but held back from taking you again. But not wanting to hurt you, he treaded towards the bathroom and turned on the water to run you two a hot bath. He picked you up gently pressing kisses all over your face and neck before planting one delicious kiss on your lips; your hands reaching around his neck to deepen it if that was even possible.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, coating your arms with soap to wash you. You laid against him with your eyes closed desperately trying not to fall asleep in his arms.

“I didn’t hurt you?” he asked softly.

“Mh-m,” you shook your head slightly with a blissful smile on your face.

“Good,” he wrapped his arms around you tightly, kissing you passionately.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, barely audibly.

“For coming to hang out with me tonight,” you chuckled. Your eyes felt too heavy, simply remembering the way he carried you carefully back to your bed and held for the rest of the night.

ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: (For all my work)

@mathletemadison​

@buckybarnes101​

@l-sofiamia-l

@pluto-grl

@partr1dge

@stefans-wife

@cordeliaswhore

@fleurlovesbucky

@wandanatasha0720

#steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #frat boy!steve rogers #chris evans smut #honeybunswritingchallenge

[robert-de-niro-only-fans]

Absolute, Unconditional Surrender

Max Cady x Reader

All smut, no plot! Mature readers only!

Requested by @lamourducinema 💖✨

The title comes from Sexus by Henry Miller.

"To make absolute, unconditional surrender to the woman one loves is to break every bond save the desire not to lose her, which is the most terrible bond of all"

TW: SMUT, rough sex, deep throating, explicit sexual language, Max Cady in general

Word Count: 2.7k

"Hey, Max?" you call from the living room at your boyfriend's place.

"Yes, darlin'?" You hear him answer from the bedroom down the hall with that thick southern accent you had come to love.

"Come here! I have something to show you!"

"Oh? Well, why don't you bring it in here where I can get you in this bed?"

"But... Please? I promise you'll like it."

You're standing there leaning against a chair, dressed in some new lingerie you had bought. You just know it'll drive Max crazy. It's lacy and pastel colors: a two piece bra and panty with thigh high stockings and a choker beaded with pastel hearts and stars. Max is gonna love the sexy shape it takes on your body and how revealing it is and the child-like colors. He loves to play with the idea of you being so much younger and smaller than him.

You hear the man get up out of bed, and so you quickly stand up straight and put on a shy expression. Your legs are close together and your hands are holding each other behind your back, playing into how nervous you are to show him your new outfit.

He stalks down the hallway, tall, muscular, hair slicked back just the way he liked it.

"Oh baby..." is all he can say when he sees you in your lingerie. He lets out an excited grunt and makes his way across the living room to you in just a few steps of his long legs. He puts a hand on one of your shoulders and the other on your hip, squeezing his fingers into you as he looks you up and down.

After a moment, he spins you around slowly, so he can see your backside. He runs a hand over one of your butt cheeks before squeezing at it. He wraps his other hand around you, his hand landing on your chest at the base of your neck, and he pulls you back into him.

He gets right next to your ear and in a low voice asks, "Did you do this just for me, princess?"

You let out a hum as you feel his clothes pressing against your nearly bare body.

"Now, you know better than to not answer my question," he says, putting on a disappointed voice.

"Yes, I did it for you."

"Aww, see that's all you had to say," he says, turning you back around to fave him and backing you up into the wall, "you know I love it when you dress up for me, baby doll."

Max places his hands on either side of you, grabbing at your ribs, and he places a lengthy open-mouthed kiss on your lips. As your lips move together, you reach up and try to unbutton his shirt. He pulls away from the kiss and pushes your hands off of him.

"Is someone being a needy little baby tonight? Hmm?" He likes to talk to you like this, like he is in charge of you; it makes him feel like he has to protect you and take care of you. It also turns you both on to play this game, although it felt like it wasn't a game for Max sometimes.

"Well, you just look so good with your shirt off, I know you like to keep in shape."

"Aw, you sweet thing. You like my muscles?"

"Yes, sir."

"Mmm, well I like your little outfit," he says giving you another kiss, "but don't you think you should've come to the bedroom to show it to me, silly girl?"

"Well... I, uh," your voice trails off.

"You what, baby?"

"I was thinking maybe we could, um, do it in here."

"In here? Where in here?" He questions you in between kisses to your neck. You reach out and pat the arm of the big chair next to you. It was a big sturdy armchair that Max liked to sit in when you were in the living room. You spent a lot of time sitting in his lap making out with him in this chair before he would carry you back to his bedroom to make love to you.

He turned to look at your hand as your fingers lingered on the chair. "My chair? You want me to fuck you on my chair?"

You nod your head at him with a small smile, "Yes, please."

"Mmm, I guess you are feeling needy, honey," he says grabbing your by the hips and lifting you easily before sitting you on the side of the chair. He starts to make out with you again, as his hands travel to your thighs. He pushes them apart, teasing you by scratching there with his fingernails. When you let out a little whine, his hand moves to start massaging you through your panties.

You moan and arch your hips towards his hand. You pull away from his lips and ask in a breathy voice, "Can I take your shirt off, please?"

"Please what?"

There's a small pause, as you know what he expects you to say, but you like to make him wait for it. "Please, Daddy," you say, looking at up him through your lashes.

"Mm! Baby girl, you know I love it when you call me that... Yes ma'am, little darlin', you can take my shirt off," he says continuing his actions. You reach up to unbutton his shirt before sliding it off his shoulders, exposing his large biceps and toned abs that were covered in tattoos.

You let your hand slide down abdomin and past his belt to rub him through his pants.

"Ooh..." he says as he leans back down to you for another round of kisses. You feel him getting hard against your hand, and pretty soon he would be wanting more than just your hand on him.

He moves his hand away only for a second to slide it into your panties. The look of his big strong hand and long fingers disappearing into your pastel, lacy panties is a huge turn on for you. As his middle finger finds your clit and starts to stimulate you, a wave of pleasure passes through your body and you let out a loud, "Oh!" and your hand moves away from his pants and you try to grab at his sides, wanting him closer to you.

He makes a disappointed grunt at the loss of your hand. He grabs your hand and puts it back on his groin, and you try to move your hand against him and best you can, but you simply can't concentrate with the way his fingers are working between your legs.

"I'm disappointed, baby girl, you know I expect more from you. All distracted by my hand in your panties and you can't even think about me." Despite saying this, he still presses on pleasing you.

"I'm sorry, Daddy, it just feels so good," you say between heavy breaths.

"Oh, I'm sure it does, but you're just being a spoiled little girl. You want Daddy to make you feel good without doing anything for him," he mocks at you. "Well that just won't do," his hands leave you and he straightens up, towering in front of you, "you're gonna make me feel good too."

You look up at him sheepishly, "What do you want me to do?"

"Get on those knees for me."

"But... I'll mess up my new stockings! I got 'em to wear for you, Daddy," you argue. He likes it when you put up a bit of a fight, makes him feel like he's in charge, but he knows as well as you do that you have him wrapped around your little finger.

"Hmm, well you should've thought about that earlier, princess," he says, pulling you up off the chair and putting his hands on your shoulders, pushing you onto your knees in front of him.

His hands move to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants, before he shoves them down to the floor. He puts his thumbs in the waistband of his underwear, which here always small, silky, and vibrantly colored, to pull them down, but you reach up and stop him.

"Wait- can I do it? I feel bad about not making you feel good, Daddy," you explain to him.

"Aww, well, since you asked so kindly," he removes his thumbs from his briefs and puts a hand on your cheek and the other in your hair, "and I know what a good little angel you can be when you want to."

You reach up and grab his hard member through his underwear, teasing at the head by cupping you hand on it over and over again. He lets out a long low moan as he weaves his fingers into your hair. You lean forward, kissing and nibbling his member through the fabric. He becomes needy feeling the sensations traveling through his body. You fingertips grace over his the skin at his hips and happy trail just above the waistline of his underwear.

"Oh, now you're just being a tease..." He says looking down on you. He looks great from this angle. Looking up on him, his abs look more defined and his lusty eyes stare at you through his lashes.

You simply smile at him, kissing him through his underwear a few more time while you look into each other's eyes.

"Don't you act like you're innocent-" he starts to say, but you cut him off by pulling his hard length out and taking the tip in your mouth. As you please and suck on it, you push his silky underwear down around his ankles. Max, being the noisy lover he is, starts grunting and breathing heavily, finally finding some relief in the warm and wet of your mouth.

"Oh god, darlin'," he leans forward over you, putting a hand on the chair behind you for support and the other grips the back of your head at the nape of your neck, "you look so pretty with my cock between your lips."

When you feel the tip of his penis hit the back of you mouth, he moans loudly and begins to rock his hips into your mouth. When he starts to tug at your hair, moving your head back and forth, you know what he wants. You relax your mouth and throat as much as you can, and he pushes his length back into your throat.

"Good girl..." he practically growls, "Such a good girl for Daddy." His movements become a bit bigger, essentially fucking your face. You do your best to stay relaxed for him and try not to gag too much. You look up at him through your lashes; he looks down at you in pure ecstacy like there was no better feeling on Earth.

After a few moments, he started moving slower, pulling out almost entirely and then pushing all the way back in. He does this a few times before pulling out entirely.

"I'm not gonna lie to ya, baby girl; I got pretty close there and had to slow down," he said through heavy breaths and a chuckle.

"You could've finished if you wanted to," you say while trying to wipe the drool from your mouth. Max grabs his shirt from the floor to wipe your mouth.

"Oh, and missed out on fucking that little pussy of yours? I don't think so, little miss," he helps pull you up off your knees, "now get on that chair for Daddy."

You turn around and prop one knee up on the chair and arch your back so your butt pops out a bit.

"Mmm, you want it like that, baby?" Max asks with his eyebrows raised.

"Mm-hmm," you nod your head at him excitedly.

"Whatever you want, honey," he walks up right behind you and snakes his hand into your panties again, "since you were such a good girl for me."

You gasp lightly when he flicks a finger over your clit. He massages your there for a moment before removing his hand, grabbing your panties at the back, and pulling them to the side.

"I like your little surprise you had for me. I hope you don't mind if I fuck you in it," he whispers next to your ear. Behind you, you hear him spit in his hand and rub it around the head of his erection. You let out an eager moan when you feel him rubbing it back an forth on your entrance. Carefully, he pushes past your lips and enters you.

You move your hips up and down, taking him in deeper and deeper with each movement. The angle of him towering over you as you lean on the chair allows him to find your g-spot easily. When you begin to make noises letting him know how pleasured you feel, he grips your hip bones tightly and starts fucking into you hitting that sensitive area again and again. You begin letting out noises involuntary, whining and yelling as his dick slams into you.

"So wet and loud for me, baby girl..." he grunts into your ear, "and it's all mine, right?"

You furrow your eyebrows unable to form words, "Uhh-huh..." you utter.

"What's that, princess? Answer me. Are you mine? Do you belong to me?" he questions you.

You simply whine and arch your back, enjoying the feeling of him inside you. You feel a large muscular hand clasp around your neck and pull you back towards his chest.

"Answer me!" he growls, fucking into you furiously. As his hand clenches your airway, you feel the beads from your new choker pressing into the delicate skin of your neck, leaving a ring of little bruises.

With your head laid back on his shoulder, you look over at him as you feel the pleasure of the loss of blood circulation to your head, "Yes..." you squeak out. He loosenes his grip in your throat so you can speak. You cough a little bit and say, "Yes, Daddy, I'm all yours, Daddy!"

"That's what I like to hear; that's my good girl," he coos to you. The hand he had on your hip wraps around to your front and presses on your belly, forcing you to feel his hardness inside you. Your moans grow louder, and he continues to squeeze his hand around your throat ever-so-often.

You turn into a mess in Max's have as you feel your climax coming, "Max, baby... I'm gonna cum."

"Good, baby, good," he slides his hand down to massage your clit once again, and within seconds you're coming undone. Being pleased inside and out, you yell out for Max letting out string of "Daddy" over and over.

The man behind you squeezes down on your throat again, letting you feel the ecstacy of being choked while you orgasm. He also uses this as grip to grind his hips into you harder. Your orgasm continues on for a long time as your g-spot takes a pounding while Max searches for his own finish.

"Oh, I'm gonna cum inside you, baby. Daddy's gonna fill you up, princess," his pumps become quick and more rhythmic as he reaches his climax. He grabs your hips and shoves into you hard and deep; you feel his warm seed as he empties into you.

When he pulls out of your he releases his grip on your neck and steps back from you. You try to get your leg off the chair and lower it to the floor, but it starts shaking.

"You okay, little darlin'?" Max asks.

"Yeah, I'll be okay," you chirp to him.

When you try to stand up and step away from his chair, your shaky legs betray you. Max steps over quickly, catching you in his strong arms.

"Silly baby... I guess I fucked you 'til you couldn't walk anymore," he smiled, quite proud of himself. "C'mon, let's get you cleaned up and go to bed." He scoops you up bridal style to carry you to the bathroom.

Surprisingly, Max is excellent with aftercare. As much as he likes to use and abuse your body for pleasure, he also likes to check on you, ask you if the sex was good, clean you up, and comfort you afterwards. He feels that if he doesn't take care of you, you won't let him play out his fantasies with you, which is his favorite thing to do.

And so he takes out a washcloth to clean you off, tells you how pretty you looked in your cute lingerie, and cuddles you until you fall asleep in his arm.

#robert de niro #tw: max cady #max cady #max cady x reader #robert de niro x reader #fanfic #cape fear #this is a bit spicier 🔥🌶️ than my usual fics #creepy loml

[codename-number3]

Stay, a KuroTsuki fanfic

(I posted this before I posted the story on my ao3 account so if you want to read more click the link for the story https://archiveofourown.org/works/24498505/chapters/59136202)

Chapter 1

A mess. Those were the only two words that were able to wholeheartedly explain the situation. The yelling, the screaming, the tears, the heartbreak. Everything was just a mess. Tsukishima Kei never wanted this, but he knew for weeks that it was coming. He knew what he would see on the other end of the door. He knew of the fight that had brewing for months, and he's known of the cause for much too long. The blond haired middle blocker thought that he was prepared for what he was about to see. But nothing could prepare the nineteen year old boy for the sight of the love of his life, sweaty and panting on top of someone that wasn't him. They didn't notice him at first, well at least, one of them didn't. Kei made eye contact with the brunette with the boobs that were too lopsided to even be remotely real, otherwise known as his boss. And then she gave him a look, a look that conveyed one simple emotion. Pride.

She was proud. She was proud that her own worker caught her underneath his boyfriend. She was proud of what she had been doing with the raven haired boy for months now. There was not an ounce of shame in the older woman. In fact she thought, what was there to be ashamed of? She did no luring, she didn't even try to seduce the man that was pumping into her at this very moment. She only comforted. He arrived at her doorstep late one night, drunk off his ass and mumbling on about how Tsukishima was always at work. To tell the truth, she kept piling work onto the young boy in hopes that his senpai's patience would finally run dry. And one night it did, and she made sure to pick up the pieces. The first time, she was told it would be the last. Then the second, was a "mistake". Soon enough, he stopped giving excuses. Accepting that he found pleasure in his sins. Immediately after they fucked, he got out of bed, put his clothes on, and left without another word. There was an unsaid rule that the brunette was forced to follow, no kissing. None on the neck, chest, cheek, and especially not the lips. She never questioned his reasoning, there was no need to. As long as she still got her pleasure out of it all, it didn't matter.

When she made eye contact with the lanky figure she smirked, licked her lips, and whispered something just loud enough for both boys to hear, "Tetsu, I love you."

The golden orbs widened in shock, his once bright eyes filled with so much hurt and pain, that they overfilled; with fresh tears running down his face the athlete ran. Ignoring the shouts to stop, the pleas to wait, and the guilt ridden apologies, he ran. He wouldn't give Testurou the satisfaction of seeing him cry. So that night, with a trail of tears and broken promises following, Kei ran to Nekoma. It was stupid, he thought. Finding comfort in the place where he had met the person responsible for his broken heart. Kei still remembered the training camp like it was yesterday. He still remembered the hushed whispers, the heated kisses, the late night movies, and most importantly, his laugh. That god forsaken laugh. At first, Kei couldn't stand it. He found it irritating and far too obnoxious. But as time went on, it grew to be the most beautiful melody that tugged at all the right heart strings.

~Flashback~

"Hey, hey, hey!" The voiced roared through Gym 3 as Akaashi followed quietly behind. The two were met with silence as the setter sighed.

"Where the hell are those two this time?"

Little did they know, they were right there. Well, in the storage closet. Kei lightly pushes Tetsurou away to try and meet with their fellow peers but the raven haired boy takes that as a sign to suck harder on the light-toned skin.

"Tetsu, we have to go," Kei quietly moans out, trying to sound stern but not being able to deny himself the pleasure of being claimed by his senpai.

The golden-eyed boy is met with a pair of lustful eyes and in that moment, ignoring all better judgement, he pulls the dominating figure closer and wraps his legs around his waist. The two had been make-out buddies ever since the first night of camp. Both boys with a case of insomnia wandered around the school until their fates collided. And ever since then they've been intoxicated by the simple presence of one another.

Tetsu tugged a bit on the plain white t-shirt, asking for permission from his kohai. This was the first time the pair had ever ventured this far. Everything inside of him was telling him to say no, to reject the middle blocker's advances; but his eyes showed nothing but concern, his touch laced with care and his stance ready to back off if given any sign of discomfort from his partner.

Before Kei was able to give him an answer Tetsurou removed his hand and leaned in. At first the blond thought he was going in for a kiss and was confused on why he stopped when their foreheads met. They stayed like that for a while, neither knowing what to say.

Tetsurou opened his mouth to apologize for his actions but before he could say anything Bokuto kicks open the door, shedding light into the confided space.

"Aha! I knew it, they were fraternizing again," Bokuto exclaims, running away soon after with Tetsurou chasing after him. Leaving Kei leaning against a cart of volleyballs, still trying to comprehend what happened only moments before. After catching his breath he walks onto the volleyball court to see Bokuto on the floor with a cackling raven-haired captain standing over him.

The second that their eyes meet, the older boy turns away. Ashamed of his actions and disappointed in himself for pushing when Kei clearly wasn't ready. It was a simple misunderstanding between the two. The shorter of the pair believing that Tetsurou was frustrated with him for not wanting more. That's how the rest of the day went. Whenever there was the slightest bit of interaction between the two middle blockers, one or the other would find a way to quickly escape the situation.

During the practice matches, neither did well with their thoughts clouded by what happened this morning. The fear of losing one another sinking in and making its roots. The blond reasoned with himself that he wasn't afraid of losing Testurou, just scared of not having anyone to let his frustrations out on. He wasn't gay, he told himself. He couldn't be. The only reason that he felt any form of attraction towards his senpai was because of his annoyance with every one else at the camp. Their sessions were only a venting mechanism that was bound to fail sometime. But then Kei looked at him, his concentration on the match and the grin on his face, and his heart skipped a beat. His mind went blank and he just stared in awe of how captivating the Nekoma captain looked with that glint of excitement in his eyes and his tongue dangling slightly out of his mouth as he analyzed everything that was happening on the court.

Tetsurou catches the younger boy's gaze and holds it, unfamiliar with the look in his eyes. It was; different. Sure he's seen Kei blush out of pleasure and embarrassment, but he just couldn't figure out what was different this time. Before he could put any more thought into it, the rooster-haired boy turns in response to the shouts of his teammates and is met with a face full of volleyball. Kei couldn't help but laugh at the sight. And in that moment, Kuroo Tetsurou decided that he would do anything to hear that laugh again. He didn't care if he got hit with ten more volleyballs and had to sprint up that stupid hill, it was the most imperfectly perfect sound he'd ever heard.

He was escorted to the nurse by the team manager and Kei had no other choice but to pay attention to the match. Every block felt good, relieving him of his stress but no matter what he couldn't stop himself from worrying about Tetsurou. In the back of his mind he knew that he was going to be okay, it was only a nosebleed; but, there was that looming thought of him getting hurt that stuck with him the rest of the afternoon. Kei thought about this morning, and wondered if Tetsurou was starting to get bored of the same old makeouts. And if soon, he would start getting bored with him.

After all the practice games were over, Kei ended up on his porch. He was gladly welcomed in by the boy's parents and made his way up the stairs. He walked into his room with a heavy heart, and pushed the standing figure onto his bed. The blond was now moving quick. Taking both their shirts off before Tetsurou could even bat an eye. His mouth traveled quickly down from his neck to his tan v-line. This wasn't right, something wasn't right. The raven-haired teenager couldn't even process what was happening before feeling a tug at his belt buckle. Before he could say anything to stop the fast-paced undressing, Kei crashed his lips against his. The kiss being different than others, desperate and messy, giving Tetsurou no time to kiss back. It wasn't slow, it wasn't passionate, it wasn't right. It was rushed and needy. The feeling of something wet made the narrow-eyed boy pull back, to the sight of a crying blond hovering over him. 

"I-I'm sorry," Kei muttered, head hanging in shame.

Tetsurou gave him a light smile and carefully lifted his chin up, "I never want you to be sorry for something that you're not ready for. Promise me something," he paused, waiting for confirmation from the younger boy. When given a short nod he continues on, "Promise me that you won't do something that you're not sure of just because you think I expect it from you."

Kei is shocked once again by the third year's careful consideration for him. He leans in slowly and connects their lips. There was less nerves compared to the previous kiss, and much more care. Kei cupped Tetsurou's face with his hands and deepened the kiss, skillfully capturing the third year's bottom lip in his and playfully biting down on the soft flesh. Tetsurou wrapped his arms around the thin figure and pulled him onto his lap, reciprocating with the same amount of passion. Kei opened his mouth ever so slightly, giving Tetsurou's tongue just enough room to deepen the kiss even more. It felt as if Kei didn't have any oxygen left in his lungs, but was unwilling to stop in order to catch his breath. Their lips molded perfectly into one another as their senses were spiraling out of control. They kept on closing the distance that separated them with an urge to be a close as possible before there was little to no distance between the two. Skin against skin as their kisses became more heated. Despite all that was going on, neither had any intention of going further. 

They finally broke apart moments after, gasping for breath with a string of saliva connecting the two swollen lips. While Kei was still trying to catch his breath, Tetsurou began planting light kisses down his neck. He stopped at his collarbone and began moving back up to his ear. When reaching the final destination he takes Kei's earlobe and softly bites on the boy's sensitive spot. Kei couldn't help but moan and dug his nails into Tetsurou's shoulder.

He continued placing delicate kisses all over Kei's face and whispered something ever so softly that it almost went unheard, "I love you."

#haikyuu!! #kurotsuki #kuroo tetsurō #tsukkishima kei #fanfic #anime #boyfriend #lgbtq #gay

[imaginepirates]

Belonging

For @wxntersouljapods. The reader is a stowaway who gets caught by the crew. Jack allows them to stay, but gives them the offer to leave and make a life for themselves somewhere else.

@bonjour-frens @tesserphantom @ilikebritsandbands

~3100 words

~~~~~~~

           Your breathing sounded too loud in your ears. Footsteps echoed in the open room, and gruff voices filled most of the space. They couldn't hear you. They didn't know you were there. 

           You heard someone pull the top off of a barrel. Your eyes were open, but useless; everything was pitch black to you. You hoped your barrel was far enough in the back that nobody would check it. All these men were looking for was a snack or a drink, right?

           You were willing to bet that pirates didn't routinely check through their food stores. What should have been a barrel full of dried meat did not, in fact, contain any. It contained live meat, and that live meat was you. You knew how hungry sailors could get at sea, and hoped that if you were found, they wouldn't opt for cannibalism. 

           You were a stowaway. Running away from an abusive household and an empty life in Tortuga, you'd stashed yourself on the most promising ship. It was a huge but graceful vessel with black sails and made of dark wood. You figured that none of your family would follow you onto a ship with such a reputation. 

           You knew the ship well; it stopped in Tortuga every few months, restocking its provisions and entertaining the men on board. You had a feeling it could suck any other city dry of rum. 

           All the poor children went out to watch it dock and depart. Dark legends surrounded the vessel. Supposedly, it had been captained by ghosts once. Some said it still was. There was a rumor that it had been recovered from the depths by means of witchcraft after having been burned. The tales ranged from horrifying to ridiculous. 

           You were more than willing to lead a more exciting life, one away from home. You loved stories of adventure, and now you were finally in one. Admittedly, it was less action-packed than you figured your first adventure would be. In all truth, it was a little scary. 

           Every night, when no light entered the hull, you slipped out of your barrel with nothing to see by. You opened other barrels, feeling around inside them for what they held. You took as much food as you thought you'd need the next day. Then, you returned to your crate, trying to find a comfortable position. 

           The days were boring. You had nothing to do, and you couldn't move. It was hard enough to live in a small house, but when confined to a barrel, life was dismal. 

           You passed your time by sleeping. It was the only thing you could do besides worrying incessantly, and at least you couldn't feel your discomfort while asleep. 

           The dull thud of another barrel top being shoved to the floor reminded you that you weren't alone. The shuffling of feet was, inch by inch, getting closer. If the pirates got any nearer, you feared they would find you. You didn't want to know what would happen if they did. 

           You'd played the scenario out in your head a hundred times. Your brain came up with all sorts of awful things that could happen to you. You could be killed, or raped, or strung up from a mast and left to swing upside down from your ankles. All were unsavory options. 

           You held your breath. Someone was standing right next to you, and you imagined them reaching out to take the lid off your barrel. You could practically see it. You tried convincing yourself that he was faced in the other direction. It didn't work; fear won out. 

           You sat completely still for a few minutes while the men talked amongst themselves. You sent out silent prayers, but could hardly concentrate over the fear gripping your chest. 

           Just as you were convincing yourself to relax, light blinded you. You blinked up into the daylight. Shocked faces stared down at you. There were two men hovering over your barrel, and both of them looked confused. Realization dawned on one of their faces. 

           "A stowaway!" He said softly. 

           Your neck craned up at an odd angle to look at them. Fear flooded your chest; you recalled everything you'd heard about this ship and wondered what tortures the crew had in mind for a young girl. 

           Now, there were more people looking at you. You felt like some horror in a curiosity shop. You desperately wanted to escape their gaze, but you were stuck in the middle of them all. You couldn't run; a ship wasn't that big. They'd find you again eventually. 

           "Would you like some help out?" The man's voice was strangely soft. Bending to look at the source, you noticed that it wasn't a man at all. A dark skinned woman stood over you, a floppy hat obscuring her face. She held a hand out to you which you gratefully accepted. 

           Standing in the barrel, you took a look at the people around you. They were certainly an odd mix, but contrary to everything you had been told, they didn't seem frightening in the least. 

           One of them stood no higher than your chest. He looked up at you with squinty eyes. Another man, an older gentleman with a grey beard, stared at her without making a sound. There was the woman, too, who stood with a hand on her hip and lips downturned in a way that said she was slightly inconvenienced. 

           Your feelings of dread were slowly dissipating. The three pirates didn't look like they had the slightest idea what to do with you. You all spent a good while staring at each other, waiting for someone to talk. 

           When you moved to step out of the barrel, they let you. You stretched, and they watched, staying quiet the whole time. 

           Finally, the girl spoke. "We should take her on deck."

           This seemed like a satisfactory conclusion, because the short man awkwardly took your arm. There was no force behind his touch; it was like he was deciding whether or not you were a prisoner. 

           You were escorted up to the deck. At first, nobody noticed you. Slowly, heads turned, and expressions changed from neutral to confused as the crew noticed that you were a stranger. 

           A man in a turban stepped up to you. "Who is this girl?" He asked. 

           The others shrugged, letting you introduce yourself. "I'm Y/N," you said in a little voice. 

           "What are you doing here?"

           "I'm…running away from home."

           There was a moment's pause. "Someone should get Jack," said the man in the turban.  

           "I'm not doing it." This was the woman, and she looked disgusted. "I'm not dealing with him."

           There were murmurs of agreement as people avoided the task. More people were staring at you now, making you feel uncomfortable. Whoever this 'Jack' was, he must be terrifying. The entire crew didn't want to fetch him. 

           "Gibbs!" Someone called. "Go fetch Jack."

           A bewildered looking man with mutton chops gazed out over the crowd. His mouth moved as if he was going to speak, but he turned and headed off towards the back of the ship. 

           "Who's Jack?" You asked timidly. 

           "Our captain," said the woman. "Though a lot of good that does us." Her voice dropped with sarcasm. "Right now, he's asleep and horribly hungover. That's why nobody wants to deal with him. He can be a real pain in the ass."

           "Oh." You thought the captain was supposed to be the terror of the Caribbean seas. 

           "I'm Anamaria." She stuck out her hand, and you took it. "That's Marty," she pointed at the short man, "and that's Mr. Cotton. He's mute; his parrot talks for him."

           You didn't know what to say. You'd already told them your name. It was a peculiar group of people. None of them seemed normal in the slightest. It definitely didn't seem like the crew of horrors you'd heard about. 

           Instead of speaking, you nodded. You were a little dazed that nobody had harmed you. These people seemed…friendly, almost.  

           Motion up ahead caught your attention. A man was staggering about, a bottle still in hand. "Who dares wake me?" He hollered. 

           He definitely wasn't what you'd been expecting. People always talked about captains as if they were big-bellied, loud, cruel men who liked to prey on young girls. This didn't seem to be the case. 

           This man was lean with a wiry build. His voice was loud, but only because he was shouting. You suspected the alcohol wasn't helping the back of his throat. He didn't look cruel; you'd have to find that out for yourself. As for the part about preying on women, you hoped you wouldn't have to discover it the hard way. 

           Judging by the unimpressed looks from the crew, he didn't have any of the rumored traits. He staggered closer and almost fell over. When he'd gotten near enough, you could see how hard he was squinting at your face. 

           "And who," he slurred, "is thissss…thiss wench?" He held onto each 's' like a hissing snake. 

           "A stowaway." Anamaria announced. 

           "A stowa-stow-st… why are you on my ship, lassie?" He turned his attention toward you. 

           "Running away from home, Captain."

           He looked thoughtful. "I'm going back to bed. I'll deal with it when I wake up." With a nod, he stumbled away. 

                                  ~~~~~

           You occupied yourself by sitting on a barrel near the rail of the ship  You watched the crew at work, the rolling ocean, and the door of the captain's cabin. You were wary of when he'd come back out. You were dreading the encounter, really. After all, he had the final say on what to do with you, and he could have you dumped into the ocean. Or stranded on an island. Or used as target practice. 

           Your imagination was at it again. Really, you wished it would leave you alone. It was no use thinking up disastrous situations. You wouldn't know the verdict until he gave it to you himself. 

           The hours wore on into late afternoon. Most of the crew had introduced themselves. They were the least intimidating bunch of people you'd ever met. 

           "What about all the rumors I've heard?" You asked Anamaria. "About this ship?"

           "All true, every last one of them. However, they're outdated. The ship has changed both captain and crew since then."

           "And now?"

           "Now, we sail, searching for mystical items Jack wants to find. We talk with witches. We get into trouble with island tribes. We're the bane of the government because we're a minor nuisance that always slips away from them. Jack is good at avoiding conflict."

           "So, you're mainly just adventurers who call themselves pirates?" 

           "We are pirates," she said defensively. 

           "It doesn't sound like you do much pillaging to me."

           She paused, looking frustrated. "We don't."

           Just then, Jack stepped out of his cabin. He was more steady on his feet, and he scanned the deck for you. Finding you, he sauntered over, looking you up and down with dark eyes. 

           "The stowaway. Does she have a name?" He gave you a pointed look. 

           "Y/N." You introduced yourself for what felt like the thousandth time that morning. 

           "Y/N." He repeated the name a few times, rolling it around on his tongue as if to get used to it. It made you a bit uncomfortable. He was…eccentric. That you could tell already. "It's a good name," he said. 

           "Thank you?"

           "What use can you make of yourself on board my ship?"

           "What?" You'd never even been on a ship before. You couldn't possibly be of any help.  

           "Can you cook? Can you clean? If you can't tell," here, he leaned in a little, wiggling his fingers in your face, "I'm not exactly working with a full crew. It puts some strain on things."

           "Oh." You hadn't thought of that. "I can do both of those things, actually."

           "Wonderful. I'll put you to work right away." He nodded, leaving you to Anamaria's instructions. 

           The days wore on. Not only were people nice, but they were helpful, showing you where things were and how to do certain tasks. They complimented your cooking, saying you could work miracles with the food. It was, after all, dry and preserved. Ships could only carry nonperishable foods. They were never any good. 

           You felt generally accepted by the crew. They didn't sneer, or make fun of you, or ignore you. You were included in all activities. 

           Jack often stood at the helm, providing directions with his compass. He was such an odd man, you didn't see how he could ever be accepted as a captain. It was only when you listened to the stories about him that you understood. 

           Jack took the crew on great adventures. Even if they didn't end in profit, the crew had a good time, and memories were made. 

           A few days in, Jack invited you to dinner in his cabin. There were sniggers from all the crew members, but you accepted his invitation despite your embarrassment. 

           Jack hadn't been able to decide what direction to sail in for days. You thought it curious. Didn't he know where he was going? 

           "I hope this dinner clears up his mind," Anamaria shouted. "I don't want to be stuck drifting aimlessly for too long." 

           There were scoffs, and multiple odd looks, but you tried not to pay attention. Your mind was wandering to what the dinner would be like. You didn't know what to expect. Jack was so strange, anything could happen. 

           You felt bad for a lack of fresh clothes. You'd worn the same outfit for days on end, and you figured you smelled awful. You pulled at your hair to no avail. Clearly, it would have to stay messy. 

           You slipped into his cabin that evening. He let you in with a slight bow, which you found amusing. There was no need to feign propriety around a Tortuga girl. 

           He sat you down at a small table that had been drug to the center of the room. Other unidentifiable objects had been shoved against the walls to make room. You sat on a rickety stool that was missing a leg. The ship suffered from a lack of working objects. 

           The dinner wasn't comprised of anything special. It seemed that Jack ate no better than his crew. He did, however, pull out a nice looking bottle of wine. 

           "Do you plan on getting me drunk?" You asked. 

           "It does make the food taste better," he said. 

           You smiled. You couldn't fathom why Jack had invited you to dinner. You were afraid he was going to drop you off at the next port, and he was telling you it was your time to leave. 

           Instead, he asked about your life before running away. "You said you were running away." He absentmindedly tapped his bread against the table, checking for bugs. "What from?"

           You didn't know how to answer the question. "People," you said. 

           "The authorities?" Now, he looked rather interested. 

           "No." You shifted uncomfortably on the stool, which creaked under you. "From my family."

           In the time you had spent on the ship, not once had Jack looked serious. Now, he was sobered and grim. He nodded. "Sometimes we aren't meant to live at home."

           You wondered at that. It was possible that you truly weren't. What, you asked yourself, had Jack been through that he would know the feeling? 

           "We won't be making port for a while. Tortuga is our usual stop, and I doubt you want to get off there."

           You shook your head. You definitely didn't want to end up back in Tortuga. "Where will we stop?"

           "I make no promises, love. But I suspect somewhere in Spain."

           Spain sounded exciting. The people from home told stories about Spain. "What for?" You asked. There were so many things to see in the world, you realized. 

           "They say the Holy Grail lies there."

           "What do you need that for?"

           His eyes flashed with desire. "Immortality."

           "Sounds lonely," you said. 

           "What do you mean?" His nose twitched. 

           "You'd always be losing people."

           "I'd find some new ones."

           "I don't think that's how it works." You certainly didn't want to outlive your friends. Not that you had any, really, but you'd make some. 

           He cleared his throat. "My point is: will you be leaving us or no, savvy?"

           You considered. You liked the crew, and work wasn't too bad, considering you were given the necessary but easy and menial tasks. "I don't know. I'll make up my mind when we arrive, I suppose."

           "Fair."

           "The crew tells me about all the adventures you've taken them on." You looked at your empty plate, flushing. "I've always wanted to go on adventures. I might stay, just for that. Am I on one now, do you think?"

           He hummed his assent. "And I could take you on lots more, love. Lots more." He leaned in a little, tilting your chin up with a finger. 

           It took all your self-control not to squeak. He was certainly close, and the smirk on his face wasn't helping your embarrassment. 

           The night continued. You chatted idly. You didn't get drunk, but you were pleasantly flushed by the time you decided to leave.

           You turned to go, but Jack set a hand on your shoulder. His expression was serious again, and you tensed. "Family isn't always the people who share your name. Family cares." He gazed into your eyes, unblinking. "We can be your family. This crew."

           "The captain, too?"

           "Him too, love."

           You smiled weakly. "Thank you." You pressed a light kiss to his cheek. You took a moment to gauge his reaction, hoping you hadn't overstepped your place. 

           He turned red, but a smile tugged at his lips. Gently, he cupped the back of your head with a hand, the other resting just below your chin. He smelled- and tasted- like wine when he gave you a slow kiss. 

           "Goodnight, Y/N," he murmured against your lips. 

           "Goodnight, Jack." It was more of a sigh than actual speech.

           Jack decided which direction to travel the next day, but that didn't keep him from asking you to dinner again. And again. After all, he couldn't direct the ship while distracted. 

           You decided to stay. The adventure was appealing, but there were other things, too. You belonged somewhere. You weren't about to give it up. 

#potc #pirates of the caribbean #jack sparrow #jack sparrow x reader #captain jack sparrow #writing #fanfic #requests #request #drabble #x reader

[babbushka]

If your submission are still open I'd like to piggy back off someone but change the proposal from Flip to my main squeeze Clyde after his 90 days? (because you know I'm a hoe for that sweet Logan boi) .

“Did ya bring it?” Clyde asked as he closed the door to his sister’s mustang the afternoon he was picked up from prison.

He’d been planning this, planning this whole thing for months – and then Jimmy had to go and get him thrown in jail delaying the whole thing.

He had been angry about it, then bitter, then just plain ol’ nervous. Those months in jail did nothin’ but twist his stomach and get his anxieties revving high – what if you didn’t want someone like him anymore?

“Bring what?” She asked, tires peeling out from the penitentiary parking lot, speeding down the highway.

“Mellie – ” Clyde panicked for a minute, before his baby sister laughed.

“I’m just kiddin’ of course I brought it!” She took her eyes off the road for a minute to regard her brother, and her smile softened from something teasing to something warm. “It’s in the bag with your things.”

Clyde reached into the backseat, saw a dufflebag with his prosthetic arm and his books, and sitting right on top was a little black velvet box.

Time seemed to stand still around Clyde as he grabbed the box and opened it, revealing the engagement ring he had picked out long before all this Cauliflower bullshit had been brought up. It sparkled in the warm afternoon sunlight, and Clyde tried his best to swallow his fears, the realization that he was finally going to ask you very present in his mind.

“Do you think she’ll like it?” He asked, really asking, do you think she’ll like me?

“She’s going to love it, Clyde.” Mellie said assuringly, to both question asked and unasked.

 “Clyde!” You were waiting on the front porch when the car pulled up to the trailer, barely waited for Clyde to shut the door before you were running to him, jumping into his arms.

You had visited, of course you had, but he was only allowed so many visitations and it’d been a while since the last time he saw you.

You looked stunning as you always did, maybe even more so. Love burst through his chest when he saw you, when he wrapped his arm around you and spun you around, kissed the smile right off your lips. He was shy, wouldn’t do much in front of his sister, but that was okay. He set you down and you stood up on your tippy toes to press your forehead to his, the two of you leaning on one another, always a steady beacon of support.  

“Hey darlin’, fuck if you ain’t a sight for sore eyes.” He said, voice trying it’s best not to crack.

“I missed you so much Clyde oh I’m so happy you’re home!” You hugged him and hugged him tight, before looking up at him with concern in your face and rushing to talk over yourself with excitement. “Are you okay? Did they treat you right? Are you hungry – you must be starving! I made food.”

“I’m okay, I promise.” Clyde gave you one of those soft smiles that had you melting, before looking down and chewing at his lip. “(Y/N)?”

“Yes honey?” You asked, worried at his tone. He tended to not sound so serious like that when he was around you – had something happened?

“I was thinkin’, could we maybe take dinner on the road?” Clyde scratched the back of his neck, hand sweaty from nerves.

“You want to go out now?” You smiled, certainly not expecting this.

Clyde was such a homebody, you were sure he’d want to just enjoy being home for the evening. But the way he looked at you, at the sky, at the big wide world around him, you could see something was on his mind, swimming behind those brown eyes of his.

“It’s just…I haven’t seen the sun set over the lake in ninety days.” He said softly, little admissions like he liked to do sometimes that tended to break your heart.

“Say no more.” You kissed him, giving his hand a light squeeze.

 “Will you tell me about it? All the things you couldn’t tell me while you were in there?” You asked later, when the two of you went to your spot by the lake.

Clyde took you here often, when he needed to just get away from the stress of life. It was so calm, peaceful by the lake. Birds coasted over the still lake that rippled gently from the breeze, deer braved your company for a sip or two of the fresh crisp water.

Your spot was right at the edge of the water, big rocks that served as comfortable seats. Clyde sometimes skipped stones, but he wasn’t doing any of that now. Now he had his hand shoved in his pocket and was starting to turn red in the face.

“’Not much to tell, mostly stayed in the nurse’s ward and helped there. Mostly thought ‘bout you.” He said, his heart racing.

This was it, this was it! His mind was going a million miles a minute, he didn’t even really know what the hell he was gonna say – oh fuck oh no –

“Me?” You asked, making him look at you.

“Yeah you, sunshine.” He said, so soft. He took a deep breath, and just by being near you he had the strength to get over his fear and say, “Been thinkin’ about something I’ve wanted to ask ya for a long time.”

“Oh Clyde.” You knew, he knew that you knew just by lookin’ at you, you knew what he was going to ask, why he had brought you here.

“While I was in there, I kept thinkin’ about what I was gonna say to ya, when I finally saw your beautiful face again and – well – I’m gonna try my best but I don’t think there’s words in all the books in the world that describe how much I love ya, darlin’.” He got off the rock that he always sat on, and you stood up too.

A shiver ran through you as you fought back tears, not wanting to interrupt your man, your best friend, the love of your life.

Clyde wished he could hold your hand, but he couldn’t do that and hold the ring box at the same time, so he just stood in front of you and had to look at the ground to keep the concentration of what he wanted to say, so convinced that if he looked at you, he’d get lost in your beautiful eyes and lose his nerve.  

“I promise, if you’ll let me, to provide for ya and keep ya safe and warm and loved. I promise I’ll love you with every piece of my heart, god willin’ I will. I know I’m an ex-con, a criminal, but I swear those days are over. And I know I don’t got much – but what I do got, I offer everything to ya.” He recited, making your heart swell.

“You’re the only person in this whole wide world that makes me feel safe, that makes me feel like I’m a whole person. You’re the only one I want to wake up to in the mornin’, and the only one I want to see before I sleep at night. I love you when you’re laughin’ and smilin’, but when you’re crying and angry too. I love you through good times and bad, and I only hope, that maybe you feel the same way too.”

You watched him sink down to one knee, right there by the lake, right there in front of the awe of nature for all the birds and deer and flowers and trees to see, and pulled out the small velvet box that he’d been waiting to give you for months.

“And if you do, then would you do me the honor of marryin’ me?” He asked, finally, finally opening the box and showing you the ring with more hope in his face than you had ever seen before.

“Clyde Logan you make me the happiest woman on earth, yes.” You answered, making his face split into the biggest grin.

“Yes?” He had to make sure, had to double check he heard you right.

“Yes!” You laughed, overjoyed, and he stood back up and you pulled him in for a hug, wrapped your arms tight around him as you kissed him, “Yes, yes, yes!”

And as the sun set over the lake, the sky blossomed into beautiful oranges and pinks as Clyde slipped the ring onto your finger with a little help from you on account of how his hands shook so much, and kissed you, holding you in his arms and for once, felt the luckiest man in the whole wide world.

#reader insert #clyde logan x reader #clyde x reader #logan lucky #my writing #thank you love you!!! #kyloxfem #cowboy answers

[faveficarchive]

Reality Check

Sequel to Creative License 

By Ella Quince

Pairing: Xena/Gabrielle

Rating: PG-13

Synopsis: Xena and Gabrielle start out on their new life together after Darphus buys (kicks) Xena out.

The woodland glade was restored to tranquility in the aftermath of that morning's battle. Only one combatant, and her companion, remained in the arena. Just as well, since there was only one felled log on which to sit and the warrior was in need of a resting place.

"I wish you'd warn me before you start re-enacting my stories, especially the really bloody ones," said Gabrielle, dabbing at the wound on Xena's forehead.

Xena winced as the stinging salve took effect. "This wasn't exactly 'The Gauntlet,' Gabrielle."

"Maybe not," said the bard, swallowing audibly as she wiped away a thin rivulet of blood. "But greed triumphed over honor, delivering your army into the hands of a despicable minion of Ares."

"Oh, Darphus is all right, even if he did force a change of management. And he only whacked me because we couldn't agree on the sale terms. He gets a little aggressive when he's frustrated, which is a useful trait in an up-and-coming warlord."

"Uh, Xena...I'm—I'm not feeling...so good..."

"Oops!" Xena jumped to her feet, catching the swaying bard in her arms. "Here, sit down and put your head between your knees." Rubbing Gabrielle's back, she said, "You're not used to all this blood, are you?"

"No," admitted Gabrielle weakly.

"That's probably why you can tell such gory stories. It doesn't seem real to you."Thank the gods.... Xena smiled fondly at the pale-faced young woman, then leaned down and gently kissed her on the forehead.

"What's that for?"

"A remedy for fainting."

Gabrielle smiled, color returning to her cheeks. "It does seem to help." She sat up with an enthusiastic gleam in her eye. "Maybe we should—"

"I wouldn't want to overdose you," teased Xena.

"Too late for that," replied Gabrielle smugly. "If too much kissing is bad for us, we're going to die young."

"But happy," said Xena cheerfully. "Very happy."

"I'm sorry about your army, though."

"I'm not." The warlord bent down and scooped up the small purse of gold coins Darphus had finally thrown at her feet. It was lighter than the sum she had asked for, but considering he could have killed her instead, it was a generous settlement. "As business ventures go, my army wasn't a resounding success. So it's time to move on and put my skills to better use."

"What do you have in mind?"

"I dunno." She whistled for the chestnut gelding grazing on the meadow grass at the edge of the glade. "We'll just have to see what turns up."

"Now that I think about it, this is going to be fun," said Gabrielle, determined to find some good in their reversal of fortune. "Traveling on the road together, having adventures just like Gabrielle and the Warrior Princess. What more could a bard ask for?"

"Aw, Hades!" hissed Gabrielle, squirming yet again to avoid the pointed rocks that littered the hard ground beneath her. Unfortunately, the chains on her wrists and ankles severely restricted her movement. On top of that, she was hungry and cold... and even just a little scared.

She studied the scruffy trio of men who were bunched around the blazing fire, a fire that was too far away to offer her any warmth. They were deep in furious discussion, but she couldn't make out their words. "What do you think is going to happen to us?" she whispered to the woman lying beside her.

Xena tried to shrug, but her bonds were too tight. With a frustrated sigh, she said, "Well, considering that I don't really have any mortal enemies, he just thinks I do..."

"It could take awhile for him find someone who wants to ransom the Warrior Princess," realized Gabrielle. "Oh, Xena, this is all my fault!"

The warlord shook her head. "No it's not, Gabrielle. These are thugs, so they would have robbed us anyway, then probably killed us if they hadn't recognized me. Besides, it doesn't matter why they attacked — I should have been able to protect you. Some warrior I've turned out to be," she said glumly. "More like a scroll-pusher with delusions of grandeur."

"Xena, you were outnumbered three to one. I thought you were splendid. If there'd only been two of them, you would have won for sure."

"The Warrior Princess can rout an entire army."

"Yes, but she has me as a choreographer. And I'll have you know it took me days to work out that fight scene against the Persians. If the guys who jumped us had made an appointment ahead of time, I could have written one for you too."

And despite their desperate situation, they began to laugh...

"This is a trick, right?"

Startled, Xena looked up to find the burly leader of their captors looming over her. He appeared to be the only one of the men still left in the campsite.

"It was too easy," he said, nervously licking his lips. "You just let us take you, even though there were only three of us. Which means you wanted to be captured." He broke out into a sweat and began to fumble in his pockets for the keys to the locks. "I'm no fool. It just isn't worth the risk. You might not believe this, but I have a wife and children, and I really want to get back to them. Alive, not in pieces."

Xena and Gabrielle exchanged incredulous looks as he jumped back, anxiously waiting for them slip off their chains.

"Please, Xena, don't hold this against me," he pleaded. "According to the bards, you've changed, you're merciful now, right?"

"Uh, yeah," said Xena as she and Gabrielle scrambled to their feet. At a prod from her companion she assumed a dour expression and growled, "But it's a good thing you let us loose, because what I had planned for you..." She trailed off, her brow wrinkling in concentration.

"Whooo, you don't want to know!" interjected Gabrielle quickly, before Xena's lack of imagination became too obvious.

"No! No, I don't!"

"Good save," whispered the warlord as their captor turned heel and ran.

"That's what bards are for," said Gabrielle.

By dawn they were on the road again, walking side by side, with the gelding ambling in their wake. It was, reflected Gabrielle, an eerily familiar scenario, as if she'd stepped into the middle of one of her own tales. Except, of course, that this Xena was much too good-natured to bear any resemblance to a brooding, haunted mass-murdering warlord with a hair-trigger temper and lethal killing skills. Upon further reflection, the bard decided this was probably a good thing....

"Tell me another one," said Xena, still chuckling at the thought of a royal princess who was her mirror image.

"Okay, how about the Callisto trilogy next?"

"Great, that's one of my favorites... only leave out Joxer."

"Hey! I'm in those scenes with him, too, you know."

"Necessary collateral damage," said the warlord, dismissing Gabrielle's protest. "If he'd tried to join my army I would have gutted him on the spot."

"I thought you were a kinder, gentler sort of warlord."

"Not that kind, not that gentle."

"I think you're being very close-minded. Joxer is the comic relief, an advanced literary device only recently introduced into contemporary oral narratives."

"Too advanced for me," said Xena flatly. "Besides, it's not as if his scenes further the plot."

"Everyone's a critic," muttered the bard.

Xena's reply was cut off by the gelding snorting loudly and pulling at the reins in her hands. "Steady, steady," she soothed, trying to calm the horse, who appeared to be on the verge of bolting.

"What's wrong?"

"Beats me."

"I don't suppose it has anything to do with the smoke that's blowing our way?" asked Gabrielle.

Xena sniffed loudly, then frowned. "Damn sinuses...."

Gabrielle stared at her companion. "Just what are the minimum qualifications for a warlord these days?"

"I had scouts, okay?" snapped Xena. "I paid them good money to notice details like that."

"Yes, yes, of course," said Gabrielle tactfully. "So," she continued with a bright smile and a shiver of anticipation, "what do we do now?"

"Do?" Xena looked at her blankly.

"About the fire."

"We go around it," said the warlord.

"Xena, we can't ignore a town that's been set ablaze by a ruthless conqueror! We have to help them fight—" Gabrielle broke off, unsettled by the smirk on the warlord's face. "What?"

"There's no town in that direction. Some farmer is probably burning the stubble in his fields."

"You don't know that for sure," said the bard with a stubborn jut of her chin. "There could be rapacious raiders just over that hill, rampaging in a frenzy of blood lust as they loot and pillage a defenseless farm."

"Wrong time of year for looting farmers. The harvests are over and crops have been taken to market by now. Rapacious blood-lusting raiders are off attacking city granaries instead."

"Oh."

"But it does make a good story," said Xena kindly. Then, with a sudden start, she cocked her head, listening intently. "Someone's coming."

"That's more like it." Gabrielle was suitably gratified by this proof of her companion's keen hearing. Bouncing on her toes, she tried to peek over the hill to see the dangerous assailant who was approaching. Her face fell at the sight of a stoop-shouldered figure in worn clothing.

"Uh, oh," whispered Xena under her breath. "Trouble."

"Really?" The bard's pulse quickened as she studied the peasant who was shuffling his way toward them. "He looks harmless, but obviously you've seen through his disguise. Who is he: a warrior, an assassin, a god in mortal raiments?"

"Hurry up, Gabrielle," said Xena, panic edging her voice as she grabbed the bard's elbow and yanked her into motion. "I've seen that look before. He's a lecherous old man who's going to want to keep us company all the way to Athens."

But it was too late. The man's gait was faster than it looked.

"Hey, don't I know you?" called out the peasant as he fell into step beside them.

"Umm, I don't think so," said Xena, tugging at the gelding to pick up his pace.

"Yeah, yeah, sure I do. You're that warrior princess gal... Xener."

Gabrielle winced. "That's 'Xena.'"

He nodded sagely. "That's what I said, Xener."

"I'm sorry to be the bearer of sad tidings," proclaimed the young bard, assuming a dramatic visage of grief and woe, "but the Warrior Princess is dead, crucified by the Romans."

"She looks like a pretty lively corpse to me," cackled the man. His eyes fixed on the warlord's breastplate. Peering more closely, he added, "You been eating enough lately? You're skinnier than I expected."

"Death will do that to you," muttered Xena through a clenched jaw.

"This is my lucky day," the peasant crowed, his gaze shifting over to Gabrielle's generous bustline. "Two lovely young ladies and me with a full week's pay. So, what's the going rate for the both of you, dearie? And don't try to charge me those big city prices. We're still a half-day's walk from Athens, and I know what's a fair rate around here."

Oh, gods...we're doomed, thought the bard as she began to realize the full magnitude of their peril.

"I wouldn't have held it against you," insisted Gabrielle as they wound their way through the crowded city streets. "One little jab with the sword, not enough to disembowel him, just enough to draw blood and slow him down."

Xena shook her head, her mouth twitching with restrained laughter. "Occupational hazard, my bard. If I attacked every obnoxious man I met while traveling, I'd have to lay waste to half the countryside."

"And this is a problem, why?" prompted Gabrielle. Four hours in the company of a garrulous, doddering lecher had seriously eroded her temper. He had stuck to them with the tenacity of a starving leech until the last mile of their journey, then pinched her on the butt when he left.

"Now do you understand why I loathe Joxer?"

"Touché," said the bard. "I'll kill him off in my next story. That's a promise."

"Remind me to make an offering to Athena," said Xena gratefully. "She's obviously heard my prayers." Then, with a cluck of encouragement, she led her horse off the road and into a tidy stable yard.

A lanky young stablehand stopped pitching hay and ambled over. He nodded a polite greeting to the warlord, but then his eyes sidled to the belly of her horse. "That's a gelding," he said in an accusing tone.

"Uh, yes, the last time I checked he was," agreed Xena.

"But where's Argo?"

She sighed heavily. This was going to be a long day. "I'm not Xena. At least, I'm not that Xena."

The lad guffawed. "Yeah, right. She's okay isn't she?"

"Who, Xena? Actually, she's dead."

"No, Argo," he said stubbornly. His forehead creased with worry. "She didn't get hurt or anything, did she?"

"But I don't have—"

"I've always wanted to meet Argo," he continued anxiously.

"Argo is just fine," said Gabrielle, deciding this wasn't a battle she and Xena could win. "We left her with... Xena's mother."

"Oh, that's okay then." He hoisted their saddlebags and bedrolls off the gelding. "Guess we can count on Cyrene to take good care of her."

Xena stared at him incredulously, but the bard just nodded in agreement. "Yes, Cyrene is pretty reliable."

As the stablehand led the gelding into the barn, Xena shook her head in amazement. "But I don't have a horse named Argo. I don't even have a mother."

"Well, you do now," said Gabrielle wearily, "so just go with it."

"I thought I'd be anonymous in Athens," complained Xena as they carried their packs to the adjacent inn. "Or at least inconspicuous. Surely the citizens of the most cosmopolitan city in Greece can tell the difference between fact and fiction?"

"Now, now, don't judge the entire population based on the reaction of one illiterate stablehand." Gabrielle smiled brightly at the dour-faced innkeeper who was slumped against the doorway of his establishment. "We'd like a room, please."

"Yeah, I figured that. One bed or two?"

Xena blushed at the drawled inquiry, but Gabrielle answered calmly. "One bed is fine."

"About time," muttered the innkeeper, his expression softening slightly.

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, nothing." He opened the door for them and pointed to a flight of stairs. "Second room on your left."

"Am I imagining things or did he wink at us?" asked Xena as they climbed up to the second floor.

"I'm sure it was a trick of the light."

"Like Hades it was. I'll bet he also thinks we're Xena and Gabrielle—I mean, that Xena and Gabrielle — and that we... they... are finally lovers."

"Well, we are."

"But we're dead."

"Love endures!" proclaimed the bard as she flung open the door to their room.

They both stared in dismay at the cramped space and its drab furnishings, then took a hesitant step inside. There was barely enough room to take yet another step.

"They need to dust more often," said Xena critically, wiping a finger across a tabletop. She rubbed off the resulting smudge with a shiver of distaste. "At least once a year."

"I've seen worse...somewhere," muttered Gabrielle.

Sitting down on a bed with a decided absence of any bounce, Xena judged the mattress to be slightly softer than a granite slab. "By the way," she asked curiously, "just how many times have you done this?"

The bard suddenly became intently absorbed in unpacking their bedrolls. "Done what?"

"Checked into an inn...with another woman."

Gabrielle shrugged and kept her face averted. "I'm a bard...I travel a lot...meet lots of people...."

"I'm not complaining," said Xena softly. "It's just that," she took a deep breath and confessed, "I was always so busy running my army that I didn't have much time for... socializing. So sometimes I worry that I don't... measure up."

"Oh." When the young woman turned around, there were tears running down her cheeks. "Xena, I fell in love with you the day you rode into Potidea, and you've been worth every minute of the years I've waited for you. No one has ever made me feel as wonderful, or as beautiful, as you do."

"Oh." The warrior blinked, then cleared her throat, but no words came out. So she pulled the bard down onto her lap and enveloped her in a fierce hug.

Her face buried against Xena's chest, Gabrielle whispered, "But if you're still worried, we could get in some practice before lunch."

Not many patrons were left in the common room by the time the two women wandered downstairs again.

"There's plenty of food," yelled the innkeeper from the depths of the kitchen, "as long as you want stew."

"Stew?" said the warlord under her breath. "It smells more like dirty laundry,"

"Hush, Xena." Gabrielle mustered a polite smile and called back, "Stew will be fine!"

"Delius was here," Xena read off the top of the trestle table in the middle of the room. As they settled onto a low bench that wobbled ominously, she continued her perusal of the words etched into the wooden surface. "Fiscus loves Antonio...Gratius has a twelve-inch—"

"Here ya go!" barked out a busty woman who emerged from the kitchen with a tray of food balanced on her hands. Then her eyes fixed on the leather-clad warlord. "Oh my!" Setting two bowls down in front of her customers, the waitress leaned over at a strategic and obviously well-practiced angle that displayed her breasts as if they were a special on that day's menu. "You're Xena, the Warrior Princess, aren't you?"

Xena smiled broadly. "Why, yes—"

"Yes, there's a strong resemblance," interjected Gabrielle. "How sweet of you to notice. But hadn't you heard? The Warrior Princess is dead." Leaning closer to her companion, she muttered, "Or she certainly will be soon."

"Yup, dead," said the warlord with sudden conviction. "Nailed to a cross, they say. Nasty way to go, but very thorough."

The waitress shuddered, which only served to accentuate her assets. Then she looked at the young bard, coolly measuring her appearance. "Well, you're obviously not Gabrielle. Is she dead, too?"

"Yes," said Gabrielle through gritted teeth. "She died with Xena."

"Oh, that's so sad!"

"What's really sad is this food," said the warlord, hastily dropping her spoon after just one taste.

"Don't you worry, I can fix you something very special," gushed the waitress.

"We wouldn't dream of putting you to that kind of trouble," said Gabrielle quickly and firmly. "We'll pick up something to eat at the marketplace instead. Now!" she said, prodding Xena into leaving before the waitress could offer any more of her services.

As they headed out the door, Xena spat out a knot of gristle that had lodged between her teeth. "We really should move to another inn."

"Yeah, we probably should," agreed Gabrielle reluctantly, "only this place is so convenient. It's near the city gate and the stables and even the markets."

"But—" The warlord broke off her protest; her blue eyes lit up, fired by a sudden spark of inspiration. "Why so it is, my bard, so it is..."

"One dinar."

Gabrielle nodded and handed over a coin. As she turned away from the stall, she saw the horrified look on Xena's face. "What?"

"Gabrielle! You just paid three times the market rate for that apple! I thought you knew how to bargain."

"Excuse me, Destroyer of Nations, but I'm a bard, remember? I write fiction."

Behind them, the fruit vendor was staring at the warlord, running his eyes from her leather boots up and up to the raven-dark tresses of her hair. "Destroyer of... You're Xena, the Warrior Princess!" he yelped.

"Xena's dead," said the warlord automatically.

"But you look just like her!"

"No, no she doesn't," cried out Gabrielle, assuming a visage of obvious dismay. "You've made a mistake, a dreadful mistake. It's just a... a strange coincidence, that's all."

Startled by Gabrielle's very unconvincing denial, Xena decided the better part of valor lay in letting the bard play out this scene on her own. Setting her mouth in a grim line, the warlord maintained a steadfast silence.

"Why, if this woman were Xena," said Gabrielle, "do you think for one minute she would let you live after cheating me out of a full dinar for that mealy apple?"

Ah — that's my cue, realized the warlord. "Like the little woman said, I'm not Xena." And she let her hand drift onto the pommel of her sword.

The vendor swallowed hard. "No, not Xena... how silly of me..." Taking a deep breath, he said, "Uh, by the way, you forgot your other two apples. And here, have a pear as well. They're very tasty this time of year."

Gabrielle broke into a beatific smile. "Why, thank you — you're very kind."

As they strolled away, munching on fruit, Xena said, "And I thought you said you couldn't bargain."

"That wasn't really bargaining. It was improvisational acting. And for an amateur, you did a pretty good job of picking up your lines."

"It was fun," said Xena thoughtfully. "I haven't had a whole lot of fun in my life." She turned to her companion. "That's one of the things I like about being around you. Even before we met, I figured that you'd just naturally make life more interesting. It was one of the reasons I had you abducted."

"Really?" Gabrielle flushed with pleasure. "Just for that, I'll forgive you for that 'little woman' crack."

One advantage to having such a small room, decided Gabrielle philosophically, was that it could be lit by the single candle stub reluctantly provided by the innkeeper. She sneezed as a cloud of dust tickled her nose. "Guess the maid's been here."

During their absence their packs had been thrown into a corner of the room and the bedspread had been turned down to reveal stained, threadbare sheets.... and a whip coiled neatly on top of a flat pillow.

"What the—!" growled the warlord. Snatching her whip off the bed, she hastily stuffed it back in her saddlebag. "I'd like to get my hands on the bard who's been spreading those damn S&M stories again."

"Yeah... so would I," said Gabrielle, a speculative tone in her voice. At Xena's outraged look, she said, "Hey, don't knock it until you've tried it."

"What is it about you bards and leather?" asked Xena in dismay. "How many times do I have to tell you that armor and weapons are the tools of my trade, not sex toys. I have no intention of using a whip on you."

"That wasn't the scenario I had in mind."

"Oh no, you don't! Whips hurt!"

"Chains?"

Xena fell silent for a moment. "Well...maybe...."

This promising line of discussion was abruptly interrupted by a series of blood-curdling yells and the sound of splintering furniture coming from the room next door, followed by a rhythmic chanting that gathered force until the two women could hear the words, "Toga, toga, toga!" reverberating through the wall.

"Just a wild guess," said the bard, "but I think that's a party we want to avoid."

"And I think it's time I had a small talk with management," said the warlord, striding masterfully out of the room.

Gabrielle shivered. There had been an edge of menace in her companion's voice that the bard had never heard before. As she waited for Xena's return, Gabrielle even felt a twinge of sympathy for the hapless innkeeper. Then the candle guttered out, throwing her into darkness, and the floorboards began to vibrate from the escalating noise of the nascent orgy. "On second thought — Take the village, kill 'em all," the bard muttered as she stumbled her way out of the room and went in search of the warlord.

She found Xena standing alone in the middle of the empty common room.

"Well?" Gabrielle demanded. The dazed smile on Xena's face was starting to worry her. "Did you find the innkeeper? Did you make him give back our money so we can stay somewhere else?"

"Not exactly." Xena's smile broadened. "Actually, I bought the place from him."

"Bought it!" Without even trying, the bard managed a truly impressive dramatic visage of pure horror. "But Xena, this inn is a dump!"

"A dump with a good strategic location, which is why it's stayed in business as long as it has, despite its many shortcomings. All it needs is a good administrator and some first-class entertainment, like a bard, and—"

"...and it could be a roaring success," finished Gabrielle with awe.

"Xena, Athenian Innkeeper," proclaimed the former warlord as she surveyed her new territory. "Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"

#xena #xena warrior princess #xena/gabrielle #xena/gabrielle fanfiction #pg-13 #femslash #fanfiction #author: ella quince

[imagine-loki]

I'm still breathing, Chapter 30

TITLE: I’m still breathing CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 30 AUTHOR: fanficshiddles ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine a mutant has been living on the streets for years, until she is picked up by the Avengers. She’s taken to live with them so they can help her to discover what her powers are. Loki especially, takes an interest in her. The two become very fond of one another as they discover what her power is. RATING: M

‘Sophie, duck!’ Loki called out, throwing a dagger in her direction.

Instead of ducking she phased through the flying dagger, allowing it to penetrate the alien that was behind her. It fell to the ground crying in some weird alien language while it writhed around on the ground.

The aliens were around Loki in regards to height, but more like Hulk with width. They were odd sludge shapes with no nose or eyes that were visible. But it turned out they were relatively easy to kill if you hit the right spot, right where their heart would be. That was thanks to Sophie for figuring out, she phased into one to see. The entire thing was made of sludge, aside from its heart which was not unlike a human one.

‘What the fuck are these things?’ Clint asked in disgust, pulling his hand free from one of them that was dripping in a sludge like substance.

‘They’re like Muks!’ Peter said, swinging through the buildings and landing a hard kick to one of them, but he hadn’t quite mastered the exact place to hit them so his foot just kind of sank into the alien.

‘What’s a Muk?’ Thor asked, killing one with a lightning blast.

Loki teleported over to Peter and grabbed his arms. ‘You’re a Muk!’ He called to his brother while pulling the kid out of the alien before he disappeared into it entirely. He put him down and then leapt back into action.

Sophie couldn’t contain a laugh, especially at Thor’s confused puppy dog like face.

‘Isn’t that a Pokémon?’ Wanda asked while focusing her energy to contain the aliens to the one area.

‘At least someone here knows what I mean.’ Peter said, trying to kick the slime off his legs.  

‘I know what Pokémon is!’ Sophie said excitedly as she tore a heart out of her third alien, while actively avoiding the slime balls they were throwing at the team. ‘It’s like Pikachu, right?’

‘Pika-what?’ Vision asked after taking out one of the alien space-ships with the stone on his forehead.

‘Pikachu!’ Sophie replied while gasping to get air back to her lungs before running to take out another one.

‘Bless you.’ Said Tony, swooping down to land so he could use his blasters to take out multiple ones at a time.

Sophie rolled her eyes and carried on concentrating.

‘Can we stop the chit chat and get this finished?’ Steve demanded. He was half tempted to turn off his coms so he wouldn’t have to deal with their chatting.

‘Spoilsport. I want to hear more about this Pokémon.’ Natasha teased, shooting one with her gun while she kept dodging them impressively.

Sophie was concentrating on one alien on front of her, using her dagger to stab into him until she found the right spot, that she never noticed another approaching her from behind and it was ready to cover her in its disgusting slime.

Loki teleported right on front of her, sliding his arms around her he pulled her in close and then tossed two daggers at the large slime ball, stopping it dead in its tracks. Literally.

‘Thanks.’ Sophie smiled up at him.

‘Welcome. I’d rather not have a girlfriend covered in slime. Would make a mess of my bed.’ He winked at her.

‘You ass!’ She laughed and hit his chest, which only made him hold her tighter to him.

He leaned down and kissed her hungrily. That was something that Sophie had picked up on over the months. Whenever he came back from a mission, or they both got back, he was always more amorous than normal. The adrenaline from the fights always got him going, not that Sophie was complaining.

‘Get a room you guys!’ Bruce called out over the coms, watching from the twin jet. He wasn’t needed yet, so decided it was best not to Hulk out unless necessary.

‘There is a time and a place for that, and this is not one of them.’ Said Natasha.

Sophie shrugged. ‘They’re right. And there’s one of the big ones coming from behind you.’ She told Loki. It was rather difficult to miss the largest sludge alien that was there coming towards them. Considering it was the leader and the size of a house.

Loki gave her a knowing smirk. ‘Ready to unleash hell?’

‘Oh yes.’ Sophie matched his smirk.

The rest of the team happened to be watching, slightly stunned and in awe at the couple’s next move.

Sophie took a step back from Loki. He clasped his hands together on front of him and crouched down slightly. The mutant ran towards him, stepped onto his hands then as he pushed up she used the extra momentum to fly through the air towards the alien. There was a wave of sludge that started to go towards her and just as she phased the sludge wave came down over her, making her disappear.

The team waited with bated breath, unsure of what happened. But then the alien collapsed down, leaving a big puddle of sludge. Sophie emerged from the other side, holding its heart which was the size of her head.

The rest of the aliens were useless without their leader. So the few that remained retreated to the last ship and when it took off, Bruce aimed the jets gun and took it out in one blast.

‘Holy shit! That was incredible! That was like out of a movie. That would be SO COOL in slow motion.’ Peter said excitedly, rushing over to Loki and Sophie.

Sophie dropped the heart, glad it was different doing that to an alien race instead of another human. She much preferred the alien missions.

‘Very impressive.’ Thor said, patting Loki on the shoulder.

‘Did you two practice that?’ Steve asked.

‘Nope.’ Loki said with a smug grin when Sophie approached his side and he slid his arm around her, kissing her head.

‘We just seem to work well together.’ Sophie grinned and looked up at Loki.

‘This is disgusting.’ Wanda whined, trying not to stand in any of the sludge that surrounded them. It was everywhere.

‘At least they are gone now.’ Steve doubled over to get his breath back.

Loki teleported himself and Sophie back onto the jet. To save them having to walk through any sludge. Tony flew in and so did Thor, but he had some on his cape.

‘Get it off! Get it off!’ He flicked his cape around, causing some of it to splatter around the jet.

‘Thor, watch it you idiot!’ Loki snapped.

‘Oh my GOD that stinks!’ Bruce covered his nose with his shirt.

Sophie and Loki scrunched their noses up too when the rest of the team got on, bringing more of it with them.

‘I think we all need a shower when we get back.’ Said Clint.

Everyone rushed to get changed and showered when returning to base. Even Loki and Sophie too, even though they didn’t have any sludge on them. Sophie had never been more relieved for her phasing powers than she was for that fight.

Loki followed Sophie into her shower. ‘Save wasting water by just having one shower.’ He said with a mischievous grin as he proceeded to pin her to the wall and have his wicked way with her. 

‘I think we waste more water when we do shower together.’ Sophie giggled, relaxing in his hold. Her back still against the tiled wall with her legs wrapped around Loki like a monkey.

Loki laughed and pressed his forehead against hers. They were both breathing heavy after having their fun together. ‘Perhaps. But it is much more fun.’ He kissed her again and Sophie was pleasantly surprised to feel him growing hard inside her again. Giving them a round two before eventually washing and emerging from the shower.

‘So what exactly is a Pokémon?’ Loki asked while they got dressed.

Sophie laughed and booted up her laptop to show him, as it would be easier than trying to explain it.

When the couple went to see what was for dinner with the others, Fury was there. Which was almost never a good thing… Unfortunately.

‘Good work on today’s mission.’ He looked over at Loki and Sophie. ‘I must say, pretty impressive you two. You work well together.’

Loki raised an eyebrow, that was the first time Fury had ever complimented him. Sophie elbowed Loki secretly and smirked up at him.

‘You seem to have impressed a lot of the world too. You’ve gone viral.’ He said, not entirely sure whether that was a good thing or not yet.

‘Gone viral?’ Loki questioned.

‘Someone was filming us fighting, they caught you two in action! And actually did put it in slow motion! Look!’ Peter said, grabbing his iPad to show Loki and Sophie.

‘That does look pretty badass.’ Sophie admitted, watching it a few more times.

Loki rubbed her back and chuckled, though he did agree with her.

‘Why do I feel like there is a big but coming?’ Loki looked up at Fury.

‘Well, as expected, we have received backlash about damage control.’

‘Tony’s minions are there cleaning up now. What more do they want? We saved them… Again.’ Loki snarled.

‘I know. But the people are not happy about the buildings that were damaged. It will take a long time to repair.’

‘We didn’t cause that damage. It was the aliens. And they would have done a whole lot more damage if we just left them to do it.’ Tony said, irritated. ‘It’s not like Hulk went on a rampage just for stubbing his toe.’

‘Hey!’ Bruce frowned. Tony just shrugged.

‘I think you all need to help the public out more. Show yourselves out there doing some good.’

‘Like what, saving people’s lives? Oh, wait… we already do that.’ Natasha snapped.

‘You know what I mean.’ Fury grumbled.

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. He wasn’t happy with it either, but knew that Fury was right to an extent. ‘Alright, alright. Tomorrow we will go and… help out the public.’ He sighed.

‘Like the friendly neighbourhood Spider man!’ Peter smiled.

‘The what?’ Loki asked.

Loki’s question was answered the following day when he found himself helping an elderly woman home with her shopping bags.

Sophie was already at her home, doing some housework for her. She wasn’t able to do it herself anymore and she barely had any help.

‘Aww she was lovely.’ Sophie said when they left later in the day.

Loki grunted in response.

‘Come on, Loks. I saw you actually smiling at her back there.’ Sophie nudged him.

Loki sighed. ‘Alright, alright. She was a sweet lady.’

They caught up with the rest of the team. Peter had stopped a guy from stealing a woman’s purse. Thor aided a cat that was stuck up a tree. Clint and Natasha helped to buy a bunch of toys for children that weren’t as lucky as others. Bruce, Tony and Vision had found themselves helping out to re-do a skate park that had become run down. Wanda and Steve helped the police in finding a missing child. 

‘What else should we do?’ Clint asked, looking at Peter.

‘Uhmmm.’

‘I have an idea, if I may?’ Sophie asked and Peter nodded. ‘There is something I’d like to do…’

The team all found themselves going around the streets, giving out large gift bags to any homeless person they came across. It was filled with some clothing, washing products, snacks and vouchers to use in food shops and food banks. They covered as much of the city as possible. The homeless were all incredibly grateful, not quite believing their luck.

‘That was a great thing you did today, kid.’ Clint gave Sophie a pat on the back.

‘It was all of us.’ She smiled.

‘You came up with the idea though.’ Loki said, circling his arm around her waist.

‘I do have good ideas sometimes.’

#Loki #Lover #Submitted fic #submission #I'm still breathing #Fanfichiddles #Chapter 30

[scintillating-galaxias]

the definition of...

a little tuckington drabble i wrote today, i hope you guys enjoy!!

(read here on ao3)

love

It took him by surprise the first time he had this incredulous moment, this sudden pause in what he was doing and he was struck with the realization that his life had led him to fall in love with a man named Lavernius Tucker.

They were sitting on a park bench on a pleasant day. It was warm, but a slight breeze kept the edge of it at bay. The tall oak trees offered them a bit of protection against the relentless rays of light. Tucker was raving angrily on about how something had happened at work. Junior was off on the playground, squealing with laughter as he runs away from another kid playing tag with him. Wash watches him fondly while nodding along to Tucker's rant.

They hadn't noticed an old lady sit down on the other half of bench. When Junior ran up and asked if he can go into the fountain because it's so hot out, she had harrumphed at him and glared at Tucker when he left. Tucker stared right back with an expression that was just daring her to put her toe out of line.

And out of line did she go.

"Aren't you a little young to have a child?" Faster than Wash could even process, Tucker is up in her face, viciously jabbing his finger at her chest.

"Don't fucking shit talk me or my kid! He's the best thing goddamn thing that's happened to me, and he's been worth every damn thing I've done to keep him happy!"

The woman sniffs. "The irresponsibility—"

"Don't even think about getting on my case about 'responsibility for my actions'! Junior isn't a responsibility that I have to deal with like he's a motherfucking chore I have to do, he's my son!"

When they go get Junior from the fountain, Wash follows Tucker with a strange feeling of something like awe. He's awed because of Tucker's vigilance in Junior's happiness. He's awed because of the speed he jumped to defend him. He finds himself awed a lot by Tucker. But he isn't complaining.

As he's watching, he doesn't miss how Tucker picks Junior up with a spin and a grin, holds him a little tighter and a little closer, looking at him like he was all the stars in the sky. Wash offers them both ice-cream, mostly in apology of that woman, which gets him a beautiful smile from Tucker that suddenly make something in his brain snap into place.

Wash doesn't miss how Tucker picks Junior up with a little spin and a slightly bigger grin, holds him a little tighter and a little closer, looking at him like he was all the stars in the sky. Wash offers them both ice cream, mostly in apology of that woman, which gets him a beautiful smile from Tucker that suddenly makes something in his brain snap into place.

This is who I'm falling in love with. The thought stops him in his tracks. Tucker turns to him with his eyebrow raised. Asks him what's wrong.

"It's nothing," Wash says. It's partially true because something being 'wrong' right now was impossible. No, he wants to say, everything was just right. But he doesn't. He just gets them their ice cream and laughs when Junior mashes his right onto Tucker's nose.

That night, Wash lays awake thinking about all of it. Tucker's breaths are soft and even, a constant 1-2-3-4 hold, release. Keeping track helps him center his thoughts.

He knows what 'love' is. It was things like flowers and nice presents, late movies and someone else making your favorite food. He loved Tucker and Junior, if that was the case, more than anything. He would give them everything he had if they would let him. And he's told them that dozens of times.

But in love, he feels that deserves some thing a little different.

In love was Tucker bringing Wash his favorite snack for when he had another one of those wretched nightmares at two in the morning. It was watching Junior with Tucker gazing over him fondly and being at peace with the world. It was poking fun at each other and having trouble properly hanging up hours-long phone calls. It was getting giddy over making Tucker laugh when he came home from work, even when he had had a bad day dealing with customers.

That, he felt, was what it was. And, well, if that was the case, then he was certainly in love with Tucker.

He nearly tears up at that because he never thought he would make it this far. He never thought he would recover from his old life, where he gave up everything that made him him for the sake of a war that he thought would never end.

Tucker had come into his life at a pivotal moment. He had helped Wash pick up those pieces of himself again. He put himself in a few of the places whose pieces could never be found. He didn't try to rebuild him from scratch, but rather he had taken those rusted, jagged bits they had found and helped him restore them and smooth out the broken edges.

He thinks that's supposed to be love, too.

Two weeks later, and Wash is up late thinking again. He only stops because of the comforter shifting, and the 1-2-3-4 hold, release pattern breaking into a deep inhale and a grunt as Tucker sits up.

"Hey," he rasps, voice heavy with sleep, "what's up? Nightmare?"

Wash could laugh because that's just so completely inaccurate it's ridiculous. But he doesn't. "No. No, everything's fine."

"So why— why— why," Tucker fails to stop a shuddering yawn. "Why're you up then?"

Wash smiles. "You'll laugh."

"Noo," Tucker mumbles. He paws blindly around the bed before his hand finds Wash's thigh. He uses as leverage to scoot over and place a lazy kiss just under Wash's ear before leaning fully against him. "Promise I won't."

"Hmm, I don't know... You don't sound too promising."

"Wash," Tucker whines. He pokes Wash lightly in the ribs. Wash huffs a small laugh and pushes his hand away, only to take it and hold it.

"I was thinking," he says slowly.

"'Bout wha'?"

Wash hesitates. "About how I'm... I, uh." No, no, he can't start hesitating now, he's gotten too far to get cold feet.

"You're...?" Tucker prompts. He seems a little more awake now. He takes Wash's right wrist and starts rubbing slow circles into it. Wash concentrates on that for a minute. He's hit again with the sheer reality of the life he's actually living now, and that gives him the courage to try again.

"Tucker," he starts.

"Yeah?"

"Tucker."

"If you're gonna pull some cheesy shit tell me you're in love with me at fuck-no-o'clock in the morning, I'm gonna stop you there because I totally planned this shit out, I'm totally saying it first because fuck you."

Wash stops. The thumb in his wrist stills.

"Wait, wait, waitwaitwait—" Tucker scrambles to sit up. Wash can only see half of his face by the moonlight that filters through the curtains, but he can tell his eyes are wide and his mouth is parted in shock. "Were you actually? Like, actually...?"

"Yeah." Wash swallows heavily. "I was."

Tucker rushes up to kiss him. Wash tastes salty tears, and he feels a few splash on to his bare chest. Wash thumbs them away desperately, mind racing with apologies.

"I'm— Fuck—" Tucker laughs breathlessly against his mouth, but it's all hiccupy and quiet, it should be upsetting, but he sounds so joyful it leaves Wash more than a little confused. "Shit, Wash. You— You don't have a damn clue how long I was waiting to say that, and then you, then you go and try to say it first, you bastard." Tucker buries his face in Wash's neck. Wash's heart soars as he leans his head against Tucker's.

"Whoops," he rasps. He wants to laugh because this was just so ridiculously sappy and out of his mind, he doesn't know how else to process it.

"I just..." Tucker looks up. He sniffs and wipes furiously at his eyes with his wrist. "Ugh. Okay. Okay, I gotta say a thing, and you can't interrupt me, 'cause I won't be able to pick it up again."

"Okay."

Tucker takes a deep, shaky breath. "So, so when we first met, what was that, five, six years ago? Don't answer that, it's not important," he adds when Wash opens his mouth. "Literally, first thing I thought was, 'Oh, fuck.'" That startles another bit of laughter out of Wash. "Shut up! Okay, wait, do you remember what the first thing I said to you was?"

"I thought you said to not interrupt?"

"Doesn't count when I'm asking you, dumbass."

Wash thinks for a moment. "Not entirely, but it was probably a really bad pickup line. As in, the worst one ever. Of all time."

"Hole in one," Tucker says with an exaggerated wink. "But fuck you, that one's solid gold. 'Are you from Tennessee? Because you're—'"

"'The only ten I see.' Yeah, I remember." They had been in a bar, Wash because he had decided alcohol would be his answer for the evening, Tucker because he had just been there to have fun. He never wants to think about what would have happened if he had decided to stay in his home for just one more night.

"And you just—" Tucker chuckles wetly. The tears are stopping, slowly but steadily. "You looked me dead in the eye and said, 'My last name is Washington.' And I was just like, 'Wow, okay, asshole.'"

"Thanks," Wash says sarcastically, but he smiles nonetheless.

"To be fair, you were kind of an asshole. But dude, I had to keep coming back and to be honest, I still don't know why. I would say 'there was this look in your eyes' but that's lame as shit, and also not true, so I'm not gonna go too deep into that. Anyways, we started talking and it took forever to just figure out how screwed up you were—"

"'Screwed up' is a term for it," Wash murmurs.

"Shh! It took more forever to get you to let me help you out, and— and there were some days where I was like, ninety percent we were going nowhere, even backward, but god damn it Wash, do you know what you told me one time? Do you know what you said that made me want to stay?"

Wash doesn't answer.

"You told me you couldn't." Tucker sucks in a shuddering breath. "You told me you couldn't do it, and that's just how things were, and you were— you were okay with that!" Tucker's voice breaks. He gulps and keeps pushing forward. "There was a night when you were in the bathroom and you just couldn't fucking breathe, I was so scared, and you said that, and I— Fuck, Wash!"

"I'm— I'm sorry," Wash says quietly, "I didn't mean to do that to you—"

"No, no, babe, I know you didn't—"

"Still!" Wash shakes his head. "It wasn't your job to try and help me. You had no obligation to, but— but you did."

Tucker goes quiet. "I did."

"Why?"

"Because I knew it was bullshit," Tucker says immediately. Wash frowns. "You still had things you liked to do. And I figured you weren't just gonna randomly tell me and leaving wasn't an option. We were already friends, and I really, really wanted to help you. So did everyone else."

"You wanted to help me... Because there were things I liked to do?"

"Kinda? Like, you told me that when you were a kid you went around the streets to feed the stray cats. I figured, hey, maybe he likes cats, so I took you and Junior to that animal shelter for a little while, remember?" He does.

Wash smiles softly. "I didn't know that was why you were suddenly obsessed with animals."

"Yeah, well, I'm still not too crazy about them, but you liked them, so I said, 'fuck it' and just went for it, y'know?" Tucker shrugs like he hadn't set aside a piece his own life for Wash. "And I kept doing it for other things too. One time you said you liked sweet things, so I started putting, like, a billion spoons of sugar in your coffee." Was that why he didn't like it anytime someone else brought him coffee?

"You liked walks in the forest 'cause you liked the smell of dry pine. So I took you up to the shitty little cabin in Montana just so we could walk around in the forest for like three hours every day." Was that why they had driven for sixteen hours to that place? To let Wash... Enjoy himself?

A chord in him reverberates, soft and celestial.

"At some point, I was like, so why am I still doing this? 'Cause dude, this was frustrating as hell. I didn't know what I was doing. I just knew I had to do it 'cause I'd already gotten so far. And you wanna know who told me?"

"Mm?"

"Fuckin' Junior came up to me, and he was like, 'Hey, why is the weird blond guy still hanging out on the couch?' And I was like, 'I dunno,' and he just straight up goes, ''Cause you love him, that's always the answer in stories,' and that was my, 'Son of a bitch!' moment right there!

I wanted to tell you, God dammit, I wanted to wake you up and tell you so badly, but I was pretty sure your brain would shit itself if I did. So I waited, and then when we, when we started going out like, officially, I just— Wash, I dunno if I can explain how fucking happy I was. For you. And me, I guess, I was all, 'Fuck yeah, I did it!' But it was mostly for you, don't worry."

"Why... Why me?"

Tucker's expression turns almost sad. "You still really don't get it? You finally gave yourself a chance, and you ended up spending that chance on me, some broke guy who didn't have a damn clue what he was doing—"

"No," Wash finally gets in. His head is spinning with the pace of Tucker's story. He had just managed to get his thoughts in order, but now they fly everywhere as if someone had thrown them like a deck of cards. "Tucker, you— You gave me that chance. I didn't do it by myself. You did it."

Tucker waves his hand dismissively. "Pssh. It just would have taken a little longer. Like twenty years longer."

"Tucker," Wash insists, "that wouldn't have happened. I didn't— I didn't want a chance at all." God, why was this still so difficult for him? "I would have been fine with sitting alone for days straight, or go out and do stupid things that would get me thrown back in jail, or giving up entirely." Wash holds his breath for a beat as he struggles to find his next words. Tucker's gone oddly still in his arms. "You made me have a... A reason to keep going," he finally manages. "You, and Junior, and everyone else."

"Oh," Tucker whispers, voice faint. "Oh."

Wash sighs. Exhaustion was starting to creep up on him, but a weight he didn't even know he had on his chest was slowly being lifted, so he keeps going. "It was— That was too much to put on you. I know I made it hard for you. I didn't want to drag anyone else into this. I kept pushing you away, but you kept coming back. It made me so frustrated because I couldn't see the point in trying to clean this," he gestures to himself, "up."

"Wash."

"I should say sorry—"

Tucker's grip on his wrist turns a little firmer. "I gotta stop you there."

"Excuse me?"

"I said, I gotta stop you there."

"Tucker—"

"Wash, listen." Tucker takes his wrists gently. "You got totally fucked over. Okay? It's not your fault. Unless you're saying sorry for like, years of bullshit that wasn't your fault in the first place, which is fucking stupid. So no," Tucker says firmly, "I'm not sorry for trying to help you feel better. And I'm not letting you apologize for something I did."

Wash gapes at him. His mouth opens and closes like a fish until Tucker rolls his eyes and pulls him down. He kisses Wash on the shell of his ear, his jaw, his nose, between his eyes, his cheeks, before finally settling on his lips. At some point, he had climbed into Wash's lap, so he can properly use both hands to cup his face gently like he's a precious glass statute the would shatter into a million glittering pieces if he was dropped.

"I'm proud of you," Tucker murmurs against his mouth. "That sounds kinda weird, but like... You made it here, y'know?"

"I made it," Wash repeats. He laughs a little incredulously. "I made it."

"Yeah. Yeah, you did."

They spend a few peaceful moments in a gentle silence. Tucker's hands have found the back of his head, rubbing soothing circles into the tense tendons in his neck. Wash feels like every centimeter of space between them is a mile wide canyon, so he holds Tucker as close as he physically can to him.

The door suddenly clicks open. Both of them stiffen, and in shuffles Junior. He has his small alien plush tucked under his arm, his blanket in the clutched in the other.

"Can we have a sleepover?" he mumbles, voice feeble with sleep.

"Totally. C'mere." Tucker pats his previously occupied part of the bed. Junior wanders over and clambers on to the mattress, immediately going to tuck himself into the crook in Wash's left side. Tucker has to clamber carefully around him so he can fit into Junior's other side.

"Papa?" Junior asks a moment later.

"Mm?"

"Am I gonna have two dads?"

Tucker makes a weird choking sound while Wash covers his mouth. "Hah, um, where'd you get that idea? I—"

Wash clears his throat. "Maybe."

Tucker shoots upright. "What—"

"Good night," Wash says coyly. He can't help but chuckle as Tucker hisses, "You can't just do that Wash, what the fuck! Dude! C'mon!"

"I can't hear you, Tucker. I'm asleep." Junior giggles at that.

"Wash, we are so talking about this in the morning, oh my God..."

Wash smiles and closes his eyes.

Maybe this is what it meant to be in love.

#tuckington #lavernius tucker #agent washington #rvb fanfic #fanfic #drabbles #mentions of past trauma #mentions of suicidal thoughts #AU #non-canonical #junior (rvb) #my writing

[mystical-flute]

Twisted Destiny Chapter 2: Lovely Arrivals

Red could only wince as Snow's cry of pain echoed down the hallway. She hated that her friend was in so much pain, but, Red knew, at least they didn't have to worry about Regina's curse causing trouble for them. At least now Snow and Charming could raise little Emma as they'd hoped.

But still, Red couldn't stand the cries she heard coming out of Snow and Charming's bedroom… and she was downstairs in the war room with Happy.

 "I can't imagine what sort of things you must be hearing right now, Red," Happy remarked, looking decidedly less-than his name would imply as he looked at her in concern.

 Red shook her head. "It'll be okay. At least I know her screams are because of something good and not because Regina or George's soldiers have found her," she replied with a shrug and a wince as another cry pierced her sensitive ears.

 "This is why I'm glad dwarves are hatched," Sleepy said as he came into the room. "That way, we don't have to hear our friend scream in pain."

 "You – what?!" Red questioned. She hadn't known how dwarves were born but now she was certain she hadn't wanted to. And now she had multiple other questions that she definitely didn't want to know the answer to.

 "Oh yeah!" Happy piped up, "Dwarves are hatched by – "

 Red held up her hand. "You know what? I'm good. I don't need to know how it works."

 It was then that the doors to the war room opened with a flourish, and Red was on her feet in an instant as a soldier dressed in unfamiliar armor stormed into the room brandishing a sword, their face hidden aside from a pair of eyes that burned with determination.

 "Um… who are you?" Red asked, quirking a dark eyebrow at the soldier.

 "I heard the screams as we were pulling up to the palace. What's going on here?" came the muffled voice.

 Red snorted. "Nothing is going on. Snow's in labor, that's all," she said with a laugh.

 "That's… all?" the soldier asked. Red still couldn't tell if it was male or female, even with her wolf hearing.

 "Yes. That's all. I swear. Trust me, I would know if there was a threat in the castle. Now… you must be from the Wei Empire. Snow and Charming told me your emperor would be visiting today."

 The soldier shrugged as a tall man walked into the room, an amused smile on his face. "What was that proverb I told you about rushing to judgment now, Mulan?"

 The warrior – Mulan – shrugged. "I just wanted to keep you safe, your highness."

 The emperor chuckled. "I am aware, but if you'd waited for the man next to me to explain the situation, you would have known we were in no danger from a woman giving birth."

 "I'm sorry that Snow and David won't be able to attend your meeting. We weren't expecting her to go into labor today," Grumpy said as the emperor took a seat at the table.

 The emperor smiled at the angry dwarf. "Do not concern yourself with it. I know that babies are ready when they are ready."

 The soldier finally seemed comfortable enough to remove the helmet, and it was with a bit of surprise that Ruby took in a woman.

 A very pretty woman.

 "And what is your name, young lady?" the Emperor asked, looking at Red curiously. "Not many people are brave enough to stand up to Mulan like that."

 "Oh. My name is Red, sir. I'm Snow's most trusted advisor."

 "Ah. That explains why you didn't seem nervous around Mulan. Most people get nervous when they meet her."

 Red could see Mulan's face twist into annoyance at the Emperor's words, but she could only shrug. "After everything we went through with Regina, there isn't much that scares me anymore," she replied.

 "You think Regina is terrifying? Try fighting thousands of Huns that just kept coming and coming," Mulan said with a eye roll.

 Red scoffed. "Try being hunted because you're a werewolf. Try dealing with a witch who knew how to do magic and could stop you at every turn."

 "Oh please."

 "I'm just saying, if the Huns were magic-wielders you'd have a point. One Regina was harder to deal with than ten Huns," Red replied with a shrug, adjusting her cloak. "Not to mention the curse she was going to cast on us. When the Huns could do something like that, then you'd win this argument."

 Neither of them noticed the amused, knowing look on the Emperor's face.

 "She's here! The princess is here!" Doc ran into the room and skidded to a halt in front of the table. "Red, Snow is asking for you."

 Red shot out of her seat and ran down the hallway before any other word was spoken, bursting into Snow's bedchamber with a wide smile.

 "Where is the little princess?" she squealed, darting over to the bed where she saw the purple blanket wrapped around a small bundle.

 "She's right here… waiting for her favorite aunt," Snow replied, shifting the bundle a little. A tiny little fist poked out of the blanket in greeting.

 "Aww…" she cooed, taking the tiny fist in her hand. "Hello Emma… we've waited a long time for you."

 Snow smiled softly and kissed the princess' head. "Nothing will ever tear this family apart, Emma. I promise, we'll always be with you."

 -----

 Red understood why Snow was so eager to have this ball. After everything they'd been through with the war with Regina, with the thought of never being able to raise Emma, Red knew Snow as going to take every opportunity she could to do the traditional, royal things.

 But Red had never been comfortable around so many people. Even though it wasn't Wolfstime, and she'd managed to tame the other side of her, Red could feel and sense the blood that flowed through all of the guests.

 But, she wasn't going to complain. Her best friend was finally happy and settled in to her life. With her daughter.

 "Red? What's the matter?" she heard Snow ask from behind her.

 She turned to face Snow with a calm smile on her face. "Nothing Snow… why do you ask? This is a happy night."

 "Red. I know you're lying to me. You can tell me if you're not happy," she replied with a small smile.

 She shook her head. "Don't think I'm not happy, Snow. I am. I'm very happy that you get to have all of this. But you know that I'm… a little uncomfortable in groups this large," Red replied with a small shudder.

 Snow frowned in concern. "Red, if you're that uncomfortable, you can step outside, or go be with Emma upstairs. I'm not going to force you to stay in the ballroom."

 "Yeah. I'm going to go get some air. Thanks Snow."

 Snow smiled and nodded as Charming pulled her in for another dance, Red outside and taking a deep breath of the fresh air.

 "You know, we never finished our argument about whose war was harder to fight in," she heard Mulan's voice say from next to her.

 Looking over, Ruby could only smile slightly at the other woman. "Why don't we just say that war sucks for anyone having to fight in one, magical enemy or no?" she said with a small laugh.

 Mulan gave her a small smile in return. "Deal."

 She leaned against the balcony and looked out toward the vast expanse of forest, the small village just near the castle a bustle of people coming and going from the ball. "Do you wonder what that place was like?" she asked curiously.

 "What place?"

 "The place Regina was going to take us to. The land without magic or whatever it was called."

 Mulan frowned. "No. I don't care to think about it at all. Whatever that place was… whatever it is… is not worth the pain of it all."

 Red let out a sigh and ran a hand through her hair. "I just can't help but wonder if it could have been a fresh start. It's weird, I know."

 "Why can't you get a fresh start here? We all have a new lease on life now that Regina's locked up in that prison," Mulan said, reaching to place a hand on Red's shoulder. "Fresh starts are hard but you certainly don't need to be transported to a new world in order to get them."

 The hand on her shoulder was comforting, but it didn't stop Red from saying what was on her mind. "Have you ever had a broken heart before?"

 Mulan tensed. "Yes. His name was Shang. We met fighting in the Emperor's war."

 "What happened to him?"

 "He died."

 Red nodded solemnly in understanding. "So did my first love. It was my fault… I killed him."

 "I'm sorry. What happened?"

 Red sighed and fidgeted. She wasn't sure if she wanted to tell Mulan the truth – Mulan was the first person she'd connected with since she'd met Snow. " You know I'm a werewolf… and I went out of control. So you can understand why I'd want a fresh start."

 Mulan looked at her in horror. "That's awful. I'm so sorry. But a fresh start is one thing… it's another thing to say you want to damn everyone in this world to another. There's always a way to find a fresh start. Why do you think I fight so hard for the emperor?"

 Red studied her, curious. She didn't claim to be an expert in human behavior, but there was something in Mulan's eyes. "Are you sure you're making a fresh start and not just blocking out the pain?"

 Mulan frowned. "I'm sorry?"

 "I'm sorry, it's none of my business but… you just look like you're so concentrated on doing your work for the Emperor that you've never really… processed what happened."

 The other woman exhaled slowly. "I don't know. Honestly." I guess I was just so concerned with protecting the Emperor that I never… focused on me. The Huns nearly killed him as well as Shang if I hadn't gotten in the way. I almost didn't stop them in time. If I had cried for just a second longer – "

 "Hey," Red murmured, reaching to take Mulan's shoulder. "It's okay. Now is the time to make a fresh start, right? Isn't that what we were just talking about?"

 Mulan scoffed through the tears in her eyes as she considered Red's words. "And now you're the one telling me about a fresh start after considering what would have happened had we been cursed to the Land Without Magic."

 Red blushed a little, the glow of the lanterns unable to hide the color in her cheeks. "Well… maybe I just needed to meet the right person to talk some sense into me."

 The other woman's eyes widened as she took in Red, and she could see a twinkle of something in her eyes. "Would you like to dance, Red?" Mulan asked as a slow waltz began to play.

 She nodded with a smile. "Yeah, of course. But I warn you… I don't know how to dance like this."

 Mulan laughed. "Don't worry. I don't know how to dance to music in this kingdom either."

 Ruby giggled a little as she placed a hand on Mulan's hip, the other in the woman's hand as they slowly began to move to the beat of the music… and the rest of the world melted away.

 Neither woman noticed as Snow White and the Emperor stood in the doorway watching as the love blossomed between the werewolf and the warrior.

 "I believe that the flower that blooms in adversity is the most rare and beautiful of them all," the Emperor said with a small smile as he looked down at the queen.

 Snow nodded. "I think that's a beautiful line. And true. You said Mulan lost a love as well?"

 "Yes. Li Shang. He was one of my best generals. Mulan's greatest adversity has been herself ever since."

 Snow observed the couple for a moment more. "I hope she's overcome that adversity. Shall we give them some privacy?"

 The Emperor nodded in agreement, and the two slipped away, leaving the bud of romance to bloom.

 But little did any of them know what else had begun to bloom in a far-off realm.

#twisted destiny #snow white #prince charming #mulan rouge #red warrior #red riding hood #mulan #ouat fanfiction #fanfiction #ouat #once upon a time