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hotdamnhunnam · 3 years

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Show Them I’m Yours

A/N: Everyone knows there ain’t no party like a SAMCRO party. Imagine you’re Jax Teller’s girl and you want everyone to know, so he savagely takes you at one of those parties and puts on a hell of a show. (@itsme-autumn suggested that I write this and I was like um hell fucking yes)

Pairing: Jax Teller x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, dirty talk, sex with an audience (Jax owning your ass and showing off that fact in front of all the Sons – they all get to watch but ONLY JAX can touch), featuring gifs of pretty much everyone

Word Count: ~2.9k

“Excuse me, sir?” you snap, crossing your arms over your chest. Appalled at the audacity of what this stupidly attractive bastard just dared to suggest. “No, I did not fuck up my car on purpose.”

The Prince of Charming smirks at that, hands on his hips, tongue flicking out between his suckable pink lips. “You sure about that, princess? Third time in a week that you’ve come by to get it serviced...”

“Oh, so you’ve been keeping track?” you sass back at him, flattered as fuck that he has, though your pride demands hiding that fact. Of course you’ve been screwing around with your engine all week just to have an excuse to hit up Teller-Morrow and check out his ass, to be honest. But fuck him for calling you out on it. “You’re not even the one who fixes shit. My visits here are not your business, and I’m not your fucking princess.”

His leather-clad shoulders lift up in a shrug, like he couldn’t care less. “Suit yourself. Name’s Jax,” he says with another long drag of his cigarette. “Jax Teller. Knew a stuck-up little bitch like you would be too proud to ask.”

Fucking shit. He knows you well. And hearing him call you a bitch just got you wetter than you would like to admit; you hope to hell that he can’t tell. “Maybe this stuck-up bitch just isn’t fucking interested.”

You flip him off and drive away—your car is really functioning just fine, needless to say—but you’re inevitably back by sex-o’-clock the very next day.

It’s been barely a month since you first moved to Charming, and you’re still not really used to feeling so damn new. It’s honestly alarming, just how shamelessly the men around town gawk at you. Don’t even seem to realize that it’s rude. You’re well aware you’re super cute, but till you moved here, you had never felt so... coveted. So viewed.

Nowhere more so than right here at Teller-Morrow. Home of the infamous biker club known as SAMCRO. The way the crew here always ogles you like heaven’s gift to men is quite a big boost to your ego.

“Know what I think, darlin’?” Jax taunts, sauntering toward your car as you pull in. “I think you know exactly what you’re doing. Know that every man in Charming wants a piece of that sweet ass.”

“Well, Mr. Teller...” you step out of the driver’s seat, standing to face him, close enough to feel his heat. “This ass ain’t up for grabs.”

Jax takes that as a challenge: as an open invitation, as he should. Slowly moves closer, feeding all your deepest hungers—God, he smells so fucking good—then wraps one hand around your back, the other sliding toward your ass... to show you just how wrong you were. “Oh, we’ll see about that.”

Jesus Christ—you want this man to fuck you up against your car, savage and hard, right fucking now... but he has something else in mind. Invites you to a party tonight, at the SAMCRO clubhouse. Who are you to deny?

He approaches his crew, as you drive away, fading from view. All the Sons stand in awe of their President—stunned that he just fucking conquered you.

“Dude, you gonna hit that?” Juice effuses, unable to hide his excitement. “Hot damn...”

Jax Fucking Teller stands tall like the king that he is and has always been, flashing his signature cocky grin. “Hell yeah I am.”

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

You have no clue what you are about to walk into. Of course you were shameless enough to choose your most provocative outfit: a skimpy excuse for a dress that covers very little of you, paired with your favorite fuck-me-now shoes. Jax had offered to pick you up from where you live, the Prince Charming he is—but as much as you’d kill for a ride on his Harley, you wanted to ride on your own dime, show up at your own time, keep up the illusion that you’re in control of your shit. You’re all decked out and ready to go nice and early, but hold off on heading out yet—figure you should play hard to get, keep the guy waiting a bit.

Your self-restraint lasts for a solid two minutes.

There’s no hope of fighting how desperate you are for his dick. The thong that you’re wearing is made of some thin flimsy lace, so your pussy is leaking all over the place, and the seat of your car is all sticky and slick. That’s real fucking classy, Y/N, you think, quite ashamed of the nasty-ass slut you’re becoming.

By the time you arrive, every cell in your barely-dressed body feels so damn alive at the thought of Jax taking you home once the party is over and railing you all fucking night...

You don’t yet know it then, but waiting till the party is over is not what Jax Teller intends. No, you’re gonna get fucked good and hard long before it all ends.

Parking your car outside, you try and fail to steady your nerves with a long horny sigh as you shut off your engine. Preparing yourself for whatever is coming tonight. Finally stepping out, struggling to pull off a smooth sexy strut as you head toward the clubhouse. All right. Let the party begin.

From the second you walk in, you feel downright soaked in pure sin. All you can see are half-naked strangers slobbering all over each other, bodies pressed together, a blur of sweat-slick skin and old worn-out leather. The place stinks of sex, smoke and liquor, and you couldn’t possibly feel any sicker. Oh God, this is straight up disgusting—fuck this shit, you think, regretting having ever decided to come...

But before you can turn and head straight out the door, you lay eyes on the king, and remember exactly why you had accepted the invitation into his fucking kingdom. And all of a sudden your senses go numb and your slutty ass feels... right at home.

“There you are,” he greets you with a ravenous growl in his voice that resounds over all of the noise. “Now the party’s about to start. Glad that I got you to come, sweetheart.”

The gorgeous motherfucker’s lips curve up into a smirk, as he utters that sinful little word, and it has got to be the hottest fucking thing you’ve ever heard.

“Don’t get too cocky, Jax,” you tease him back, as his piercing blue eyes devour your entire figure, clearly pleased to see that you’re practically naked. “Still gonna have to work at that... I haven’t come just yet.”

He snickers, lustfully biting his lip as he reaches around you to grab at your ass through your dress, rendering you a dripping mess just at the touch of his fingers. “No, but already soaking wet, I bet.”

Oh God, yes... those are the only words that come into your head, a silent gasp for air, as his big strong frame slams you up against the nearest wall and holds you there, one hand upon your ass now as the other tangles roughly in your hair.

“Darlin’, you got any clue just how bad I’ve been wanting to fuck you?” he snarls, breathing heated against your skin, making your pussy clench and your toes curl. “You know, ever since this fine ass came to town... all those times you would come around... Christ, all I’ve wanted to do... is just pin you the fuck down... and show the whole fucking world who you belong to. Claim you as my dirty girl.”

Every word from his mouth has you spiraling down into some sort of sex-drunk submissive daze. Lost in a haze, everything else around you fades... until you realize, in a split second, that you and Jax are the focus of literally everybody’s gaze. Looking over his shoulder at the whole rest of the room, you are beyond surprised to find all fucking eyes on you and him. You feel the blood drain from your face. This seems like honestly too much to take—and yet you can’t deny, something about the spectacle of all of this has got you feeling... well, some kind of way...

“Yeah, they’re all watching, babe,” Jax devilishly taunts, reading your mind, lips on your neck and hands groping your tits and God that feels fucking divine. “Like the attention? Kinky little thing, I know it turns you on. What’d’ya say we fuck in front of them and give ‘em what they want?”

It’s not as if you have a choice, when Jax Teller is talking in that motherfucking mouthwatering voice. At this point you are nothing but his filthy fucking toy.

Now that your fate has been sealed as exactly that, he’s gonna give you the most epic sex you’ve ever fucking had.

Handling you like a damn rag doll, Jax swiftly shifts off of the wall, then throws you down over a pool table conveniently nearby, with your back pressed against the surface as he stands between your open thighs and effortlessly rips your dress to shreds. Strips off your thong next, tattered lace lost in a heap down on the floor between your legs. The look on his breathtakingly beautiful face with every move he makes is just pure fucking sex.

And just like that, here in a room packed full of people most of whom you’ve never met, you are stark fucking naked, legs spread, soaking wet and loving every goddamn minute since apparently you’re seriously fucked up in the head.

Staring straight up into his blazing bright blue eyes, as he so proudly claims you as his prize, you’ve never felt so damn alive. But also dead.

“Mmm, look at that...” he hums, teasing your wet cunt with a cruel flick of his thumb. “Who fucking owns this pretty pussy, hmm? This nice tight ass you got?”

Oh, God—how is it even possible for everything he says and does to be so fucking hot...? Though you can barely speak, needy and weak, you know this bastard has demanded that you answer. So you tell him what is so painfully true. “You do, Jax. All you.”

He growls in pleasure, and you couldn’t possibly get any wetter. You’re officially the property of Jackson Fucking Teller. And he wants to hear you say it, which is just about the hottest fucking thing ever. “Tell ‘em, whore. Tell the whole room who fucking owns you. Wanna hear you tell ‘em who.”

And so you do. The words fall freely from your open mouth. You say it loud and proud. “Jax Fucking Teller owns my ass.”

The room responds with raucous shouts and cheers, resounding in your ears. You barely even notice, though, because now Jax has started stripping off his clothes—everything’s happening so fast—and as you lay eyes on his downright godlike body you are not sure just how much longer your slipping grip on sanity can last. He hasn’t even taken out his cock yet, but the moment that he does... you’re pretty sure you won’t even be conscious anymore.

So you form words, while you still can, beholding this god of a man. “Want you to show ‘em, Jax. Please. Show off how you own me. Fuck me like just what I am, your dirty little whore. Show them I’m yours.”

Jax doesn’t need to be asked twice. Next thing you know his massive cock is finally free, the fucking perfect piece of meat standing so tall and proud and hard between his strong muscular thighs, and he wastes no damn time at all giving exactly what you need. He takes a firm hold of your knees to spread your legs out even wider to receive everything that he has to give... and then he drives his cock inside you in one swift soul-crushing thrust and Jesus Christ, as every fiber of your being dies, you realize that until this moment you had never truly lived.

You barely register anything else that’s happening around you, but on some level you do. It’s even hotter knowing just how much the whole crew is enjoying this amazing fucking view.

“God, that’s so fucking hot...” Juice mutters from his front row spot, stupidly hoping no one else will notice as he scrapes your tattered thong off of the floor and stuffs it quickly in his pocket.

Tig snickers loudly from where he’s standing nearby. “You little pervert. We all saw that.”

Juice points his finger at the guy. “Pervert? Seriously? Talk about the pot calling the kettle black...”

In the meantime, none of that got past the king. Jax doesn’t miss a thing, and he’s possessive of his property, beyond belief. He promptly shoots a sharp glare at the thong thief. “Think you can try and take what’s mine? I’m gonna be needing that back.”

The look on Juice’s face, at that... you cannot help but laugh, and have a little pity. Something about this whole dynamic with the audience around you has restored a little sanity and dignity, and you’re able to string words together, even while you’re still getting completely fucked to pieces by Jax Teller.

“Aw, let him have it, Jax. Poor guy’s just picking up scraps. You’re the one who still owns my whole ass.”

Chiming in with his distinctive accent, Chibs echoes your laugh with an approving clap. “Now would ya look at that. So generous! Jackie Boy, you got yourself there one hell of a lass.”

You smile at him with a playful wink as Jax keeps pushing deeper in, his cock seemingly harder with every thrust, bigger the farther it sinks. “Fuck yeah, he does. You jealous?”

“Aye, as if you have to ask...”

Jax doesn’t like it when you spend more than two seconds with your eyes on anybody else. Although he knows no one’s an actual threat, that fact still doesn’t change how possessive he gets. He takes his hands off of your legs now to powerfully grab your head, keeping your face in place just where he wants it, your gaze fixed on him alone as he keeps fucking you dead.

You can still hear the chorus of indistinct voices:

“Fuck her up!”

“Own that slut!”

“Pound that pussy, Pres!”

And so he does, making you moan and beg him for more, spouting out filth like a two-dollar whore, as his huge monster cock brings you closer and closer to climax. “Fuck yes—Jesus Christ, holy fucking shit—destroy me with that dick—God, you’re so big—fuck, Jax...!”

It feels like you’re about to burst. Happy, for one, seems to want that to happen. He’s more into the action than the words. “Just shut her up and fuck her harder. Till it hurts.”

You didn’t think that it would be humanly possible for Jax to fuck you any harder than he has been, in these past however many fucking minutes... but apparently it is. And the mind-blowing pain that it causes is pure fucking bliss. All of a sudden he picks up the pace, hips ramming into you so hard the table seems about to break, grunting and groaning out with every move he makes and leaning down to suck the screams out of your mouth, drilling deeper into every inch of your body and drowning you in his delicious taste as he devours your face.

Fuck if that’s not a one-way ticket straight to subspace.

Although your consciousness is all but gone, you try to stay afloat now as Jax pulls back from the kiss to ask one last question. “Who owns this fucking cunt?”

You couldn’t give less of a shit just how insane you sound right now. You’re honestly just proud that you can speak English somehow. “You own this cunt! You own my whole entire ass! You fucking own me, Jax! You... fucking... unghhhh...”

The whole entire room knows what’s about to happen. And as you come undone, some part of you can hear them jeering, cheering, every one of them so damn proud and supportive of their king...

But for the most part you can only hear and see and feel one thing: Jax Fucking Teller all around you, deep inside you, splitting you right fucking open, filling you up with his white hot cum until it feels as if your whole goddamn existence served the sole purpose of leading up to this one perfect moment, to this epically earth-shattering explosion...

There is no better feeling in the world than being owned by him. You know it now, and so does everybody in this room. Damn did he show them. Just as you had asked. Jax Fucking Teller went off and did that. Showed off ow utterly and undeniably he owns your whole entire fucking ass.

You end up spending just a few more lazy minutes making out, tongues halfway down each other’s throats. “Mmmm, glad that I got you to come, Y/N,” he gloats, again, smirking in smug satisfaction now that the task is finally done.

But the night is still young. So you tell him. “Well, Teller—you should know that your dirty girl has three fuckable holes... and you’ve only fucked one.”

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

Thank you for reading!!! Writing this was TOO MUCH FUN. Hope you enjoyed it and would love to hear if you did! 🤗❤️

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sevenstarsinning · 3 years

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Invasion Ch.11

Description: A planet conquering race of Saiyans invaded Earth and deemed it worthy of habitation. After bringing the humans to their heels, they set up a new society where humans had one role, to serve. You found yourself in the unlucky faction of being bought and sold as a human pet. With absolutely no interest in owning a human but no way out of having one, Kakarot made a bid on you at the urging of his brother. It was only a matter of time before you were either killed or forced into obedience.

You can find previous chapters in this link: Ch.10 or you can read it here on my AO3

Warnings: Things get a little violent in this chapter. Enjoy!

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Kakarot finally glanced up when he heard the door close. He let out the defeated sigh he’d been holding back and slid down the wall he was leaning against. Every ounce of his being was urging him to break free of the cell, tear down the forcefield that kept you just out of his reach so he could hold you one more time. His hands trembled as he flexed his fingers and clenched his fists. The self-loathing began as he recalled the words he said to you, each syllable of bullshit that came spewing out of his mouth. He wanted to take it all back, to beg you to stay, to wait for him, but he knew he had no choice. If he was going to save you, truly save you, he had to make sure your feelings were cut off at the nerve.

He fought sleep at night, every time he closed his eyes he could see your weakened frame, clothes barely hanging off of you, tired and tearful eyes that seemed to burn right through him. He couldn’t bare the sight, so he forced himself to stay awake. Even if he did want to sleep, it wasn’t like they’d let him anyways.

“Wake up, traitor.” Turles stood in the doorway with a wicked grin spread across his face.

Kakarot peered up at him wearily, barely giving him his full attention as he slumped back against the furthest wall in the cell.

“Again, Turles?” His voice was gruff as he spoke.

“You know the drill.” Turles cracked his knuckles loudly.

Kakarot wasn’t sure if it was his attempt to intimidate him or if it was some weird way for him to prepare himself. He slowly stood up, using the wall to lean against as he did. His legs trembled and he kept his gaze on the floor.

“I noticed the Prince brought your little human by earlier.” Turles paced slowly in front of the forcefield.

“She’s not mine.” He didn’t like the way Turles mentioned you, but it wasn’t like he could do anything about it.

“I’ve been thinking,” he slowed and stood directly in front of the cell, “do you think the Prince has had a chance to stretch that sweet little cunt of hers yet?”

Kakarot couldn’t hide the way he clenched his fists instinctively at the mention of you, his nostrils flaring as he fought to control his breath.

“We both know the Prince isn’t patient either. I bet he used her the very first night, shoving her down…” he pulled the key from his pocket, “tearing and clawing at her clothes…” he dropped the forcefield, “right before he shoved his royal cock right into her. Can you imagine the sounds she made? Probably begging for him to breed her tight cunt, pleading for him to claim her like you never did.”

The second the door unlocked, Kakarot launched himself at Turles and jerked him into the cell with him. He broke free of the cuffs that were secured around his wrists. He slammed him back against the hard, metal wall, denting it with his skull while his hand wrapped around his throat.

“Still got some fight in you after all.” Turles grinned and grabbed Kakarot’s forearm, trying to loosen his grip.

Kakarot felt his body buzzing with energy as he held back on turning Super Saiyan. As he was trying to refocus his ki, Turles twisted his arm and shoved him back, cracking his neck as he headed straight for Kakarot. He held nothing back as he fought him, slamming him into every wall in the cell. Kakarot fought back, hit after hit, pounding his fists into the cruel saiyan but continuing to hold back. He knew what happened when he let go completely and he wasn’t prepared to suffer those consequences again.

Before Kakarot could exact his full rage on Turles, he was quickly pulled off of him by two other saiyans. Turles wiped the blood and sweat from his brow as he straightened himself up, the two saiyans holding Kakarot back while they secured another pair of cuffs around his wrists and a heavy steel collar around his neck. Kakarot continued to fight, trying to break free of their hold but an intense jolt of electricity flowed from the collar into his neck. Kakarot cried out in pain as his body tensed, the shock rolling through him wave after wave, each one growing in intensity. They released him and let him fall to the floor, chest heaving as he trembled.

Turles crouched in front of Kakarot and grabbed a handful of his hair, jerking his head up, “I’ve heard the King is leaning more towards execution and I’ll only be too happy to offer my services.”

Kakarot smirked and licked the blood that trickled from his lip, “make sure you have your pets with you.” He cut his eyes back at the two saiyans that remained by the door.

Turles slammed Kakarot’s head on the hard floor and held it down, “we’ll see how funny you think it is when you’re sentenced.”

Turles released him and stepped over his body as they headed out of the cell. Kakarot remained in the floor, every nerve ending in his body was still trembling from the shock as he recovered. It was difficult to maneuver with his hands cuffed behind his back, but he managed to roll over on his back and sit up before scooting himself back against the wall. He let out a harsh sigh as a soreness se into his limbs and images of you flooded his mind. No matter how hard he tried, it was always you that he came back to. You were his comfort, his peace.

“Kakarot?” He recognized the voice as he opened his tired eyes, focusing for a moment before seeing her face.

“I didn’t think they’d let you see me.” He struggled to sit up a little straighter.

Gine knelt in front of the cell, “let them try to keep me from my son.”

The softness in her smile hid something more, something worrisome.

“Who did this to you?” She asked as she took in his current state.

“No one. Why did you come here?” He wanted to avoid her finding Turles and putting him in his place, which he knew she would.

“I needed to see you. There are rumors-“

“Not the good kind, I’m sure.” He gave her a slight smile, hoping it would reassure her that he was okay.

“Not the best things you’d want to hear about your son. I heard your human is settling in at the palace well.”

“She isn’t eating. Or sleeping from the looks of it.”

She perked up a little, “you’ve seen her? Did she come by? Is she coming back?”

Kakarot shook his head, “she isn’t coming back, I made sure of that.”

Gine shifted and moved a little closer to the cell, “I’m sure she still cares for you.”

“I have a favor to ask of you.”

“Anything, what is it?”

“I need you to help her move on and get past this. She wasn’t doing well the other day and I doubt she’s doing better now.”

Gine looked up at Kakarot, “I’ll check in on her, see if she needs anything.”

She said her goodbyes as he thanked her, her expression dropping once more as she left. He was grateful that she’d come by and that she was so willing to help him. Kakarot remembered when he was a kid and wanted to get out of training, she would hide him in the laundry basket and tell Bardock she hadn’t seen him. She’d let him know when the coast was clear. It wasn’t that she didn’t want him training, she just preferred to stoke his playful side more than the warrior side. He hoped you’d let Gine help you, it was the only thing that would bring him solace.

It wasn’t that you were ignorant or even that dense, but Gine set up shop and watched you trudge out past the garden almost every day. She watched as you took your anger out in a very odd way and she noticed the way you broke down each time afterwards, clutching your hands to your chest as the tears streamed. She knew you wouldn’t last like this, especially when you weren’t eating. She watched about as much as she could.

“If this is going to be your outlet, you need a better target.” She said as she stood before you.

“How long have you been watching?” you wiped the sweat from your brow, blood staining your knuckles.

“Long enough to know you’re going about this all wrong. If you really want to blow off some steam you need to hit something that’ll hit you back.” She made no move to console you or convince you that this was stupid.

“What did you have in mind? You’re not gonna hit me, are you?” You stepped back from her, knowing she’d put you through the tree in an instant.

“That’d be too easy. Come on.” She grabbed you and took off from the palace grounds.

You wanted to ask where she was taking you and if you even had permission to go that far from the palace, but you honestly didn’t care entirely. You were grateful to be away from everything and wherever she took you was probably going to be better than anywhere else. After a few minutes she started to descend and panic built in your chest.

“Wait- The Arena?! You can’t-“ You struggled to get out of her grasp but she held your arm.

“Calm down. I’m not leaving you here. This place has different rules than the rest.”

“Yeah, and those rules are that humans fight to the death here.” You still tried to pull away from her.

“Not if you enter with a bet or with a saiyan. Doesn’t matter if they own you or not, they can still bring you here to fight.” She held firm with her grip on you.

“I don’t get it, you want me to fight in the Arena? For money? I’m not a fighter. I’ll get my ass kicked.” You looked at her with complete confusion.

“Maybe your heart will hurt a little less then.” She finally released you.

You considered what she was saying. Fighting had never been something you wanted to do, regardless of the situation, but she seemed to think this would help. You weren’t keen on the idea of fighting other people who were forced into the Arena against their will when you were able to come and go as you pleased. But again, there were unknown benefits to doing it. Maybe one time wouldn’t hurt?

“One fight, and then you take me back to the palace, right?”

“Of course. I’m not a monster. Stay with me and don’t say a word.” She returned her hand to wrap around your arm as she pulled you along with her, approaching the large outdoor arena.

The Arena was set up more like a cage of death in wrestling. Stands were set up around the whole thing and in the middle there was a chain link fence with two doors on either side. You could hear the screaming saiyans from the outside and the pent-up energy flowing from it was almost overwhelming.

“Didn’t know you owned a human, Gine?” A small saiyan at the doorway looked you both up and down.

“She’s new. Gotta see what she can do in the Arena before I take her back to Bardock.”

“How much you betting tonight?” Another saiyan asked.

Gine glanced at you then back to them, “let’s set it at one hundred. I don’t want to waste it, she looks a little too thin.”

“Alright, she’s up next. It’s been kind of slow today.”

They made note of her bet and stepped aside for her to lead you in. Anxiety had set up a permanent home in your stomach as you stood to the side of the stands. You watched as the two people in the cage fought one another, hard hits without armor or protection of any kind. Blood splattered the white platform and their clothes. It was violent, chaotic, and exactly what you wanted.

“So what happens now?” You glanced at Gine.

“Once they finish, you’ll go up against whoever is next. A winner is declared one of three ways, a tap out by the saiyan, knock out, or death.” She said as simply as she could.

“Death?”

“If the human is decent and actually wanted, then the owning saiyan will intervene before that happens. If they do that, they forfeit their bet.” She pulled you forward as the fight neared it’s end.

You could tell one of the humans was faltering, barely standing stable on their feet but they continued to fight.

“Stay up!” An angry saiyan shouted from the side of the cage, which you could only assume was their owner.

Within another few seconds the human was flat on the ground, blood trickling from their head as the other human stood victorious, a clear smirk on his face as his opponent lay unconscious at his feet.

“You’re up.” She pushed you forward towards one of the doors in the cage.

You took a deep breath and exhaled it quickly as the door was opened and you were pulled inside. You glanced back at Gine who gave you a slight smile and a thumbs up. It was a simple gesture, but it was at least some kind of encouragement. As you stepped forward, they were still cleaning up from the last fight, the smell of blood was thick in the air, saiyans muttering around you from the stands. It was all so different from what you expected. You looked to the other end of the cage, seeing your opponent enter, realizing she was familiar. You’d seen her before, at the auction. She was the one who bit Nappa.

“You know the rules, tap out, knock out, or death. Those are your only ways out of here.” A large saiyan towered over the two of you as you stood face to face.

He back away and left the cage without another word. You stood almost frozen in place, you had no idea how to start a fight, especially not a fight to the death.

“I remember you,” she said as she stared at you, “that elite bought you. Heard you had a real nice situation there until he murdered all those saiyans.”

“He hasn’t been found guilty yet.” You felt like you were waiting for her to just knock you out at any instance.

“Well, murderer or not, bet he’s still better than mine. Enough chit chat though, you ready to get this over with?” She stepped back and cracked her neck from side to side.

“Um, yeah, I guess-“ Before you could even get your words out completely, she punched you squared in the jaw.

You stumbled back and placed your hand over the sharp pulses of pain you started to feel in your jaw that echoed through your entire head.

“Shit.” You muttered.

“Come on, that wasn’t even my best hit.” She started to circle around you.

You stood back up and before you could even get your bearings, she hit you again. This time she landed her fist in the center of your chest before hitting you in the side of the head with her other fist. Your vision blurred and you felt like your heart stopped as you choked and doubled over. You glanced back to see Gine standing on edge against the cage, still urging you on.

“This isn’t even a fair fight.” She stopped moving and sighed.

“Just kill her and get it over with!”

You looked over to see who her owner was and the second you saw the familiar, spike haired saiyan, you felt an anger building within you. Turles.

“Fucking end her!” He shouted again.

Memories of how he treated you and Kakarot the last time you saw him, flooded your mind. You clenched your fists and centered all of your rage in your stomach. You caught her off guard by tackling her to the ground, pinning her beneath you as you slammed your fists into her, one after another. She grabbed at you and tried to shove you off, but you weren’t budging. You hit her with everything you had, ignoring the harsh hits she landed sparingly on you. You could hear the other saiyans roaring and encouraging the two of you as you fought. It was exhilarating, addicting. She finally managed to shove you off of her, but the pause in fighting was short lived as you both scrambled towards one another with fists flying. Blood poured from her lip as she attacked you and after a moment you noticed your knuckles were smeared with it. You knew you had some wounds as well, but honestly they were at the back of your mind as you fought. You unleashed every ounce of anger and frustration into her, but it wasn’t enough.

Your advantage was brief from the surprise attack you managed. She was clearly a better fighter and trained at that. She quickly dodged one of your hits and had you flat on the ground within a split second, her foot on your throat as she proceeded to hit you, over and over.

“Out! She’s out!” Gine called from the sidelines.

She continued until the saiyan entered the cage again and pulled her off of you, declaring her the winner while you faded in and out of consciousness.

You were vaguely aware of Gine carrying you from the cage, muttering something about how fucked you were in a real fight.

“I can’t take you back to the palace like this. You got your ass handed to you.” She took off from the Arena.

If you had been awake enough to ask questions, you would’ve asked where you were and why she was hooking you up to a few hoses and shoving you into a tank of water, but you were soon unconscious again.

You came to as she was pulling out of the machine, letting the water drain from it as she wrapped you in a towel.

“Not perfect, but at least your face doesn’t look like a piece of chewed up gum.” She helped you dry off.

“I want-“ you coughed up some of the water, “I want to go back.”

“Sorry, humans can’t handle too much of the healing pods, your bodies get all weird and soft.”

“Not that. The Arena.” You looked up at her.

“You need training before that happens. And you need to eat. You look like a starving animal.” She continued to dry you off.

“Train me then.” You said without really worrying about the consequences.

She paused for a moment as if she was giving you a chance to take it back, “did it help?”

“Yes, more than I thought it would.” You nodded.

“Fine, but you won’t tell anyone, and you’ll need to start eating at least three times a day. Deal?”

“Deal.”

For the first time in a while you felt hopeful. Not about your future or the situation with Vegeta, but hopeful about putting your energy and time into something other than waiting for death to come to you.

#lynn #invasion fic #kakarot #kakarot x reader #gine #turles

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vidalinav · 3 years

Text

Queen of Monsters: Chapter 4

I still don’t really have an official summary for this, since every one I write makes me cringe, but alas... Azriel is in the chapter for a brief moment and more of Cassian’s POV!

Bet you didn’t think I was going to meet my Tuesday/Wednesday update deadline! I for sure didn’t think so.

Chapter List, General��Masterlist

“Rhys wants a detailed report in two weeks.” Azriel noted, setting the box of this week’s supplies on the counter. Cassian eyed it with impatience, his stomach rumbling at the prospect of food. He’d hoped Nuala and Cerridwen had missed him enough to put a dessert or two in the contents. Maybe a few extra steaks for dinner this week. Mother knows he’d missed Velaris’s food.

Azriel rolled his eyes as he stepped back from the table, giving a wide girth for Cassian to trample past. It was such a Mor-like thing to do, Cassian wanted to ask if he’d been spending more time with her now that he was gone but thought better of it. No sense in touching on subjects that might make Azriel run back quickly when Cassian wished he’d stay longer.

He was not ashamed to say he’d missed his brother.

“He says that we’ve given the clans enough time making a ruckus, and it’s about time they remember who their high lord is.”

Cassian huffed a laugh at the words. Leave it to Rhys to be dramatic even in messages.

“What does little Rhysie want me to do about it then?”

Azriel shrugged, his wings rising slightly as if they too didn’t know what to make of Rhysand’s command.

“I’d like to imagine that’s up to you, but who knows what he’s planned.” Azriel spoke, his words strait-laced and dismissive. “Rhys says he wants Kallon dealt with before the Rite this year.”

“No shit, but why does it have to be so soon? It’s not like I’ve been sitting on my ass.”

Cassian understood the urgency, of course. The longer this went on, the worse the situation would be and right now it was on attainable levels. Rhys called for civility. Cassian would abide of course and so would Azriel whether he liked it or not, but Cassian knew exactly what Azriel would have done in his place. So Cassian was not surprised at his nonchalant tone.

“With the games coming up, Rhys thinks that this will be the perfect time to stop any more speak of rebellion. He’s giving you twelve days—”

“You just said two weeks!”

“He thinks the momentum will give you an edge.”

Cassian rolled his eyes and was about to tell Azriel exactly what he planned to give Rhys, but Azriel straightened. His shadows twisting around his arms. Not being one to take any of Az’s suspicions lightly, Cassian braced himself for the unknown threat.

Well, until he heard the door slam shut.

Nesta walked past them, those braids of hers tucked into a wool hat. Her nose was red, and her cheeks were blushing. But her eyes were as callous as the moon.

Cassian stepped towards her without a thought, “I left a cup of tea on the table.”

Cassian watched as Azriel lifted a hand in greeting and Nesta nodded slightly, but to him, she did not acknowledge. The gesture made his temper flare and one of his wings rose to cover Azriel in her line of sight.

Nesta jeered, her head cocking slightly before she dismissed him with a cold turn of a shoulder.

Azriel tilted his head towards the female who headed for her room, the door shutting with a soft click. “I take it it’s not going well.”

Cassian grunted out a reply. No, it had not been going well, he wanted to say. It had been far from well. A fucking disaster.

Azriel sensing the mood change, started opening the box. “Elain made sweets for her and packed a few books.”

“And Feyre?”

Azriel shrugged. “I didn’t open the box. Elain just caught me before I left and told me to bring them to her.”

Liar, he wanted to say. Like those shadows of his hadn’t told him exactly what was inside and who exactly had packed each item. But, Cassian decided against arguing about it.

“And how are the sisters doing?” He asked.

Az shrugged. “As well as they can, I suppose. As well as all of us.”

“That’s not very specific.”

Azriel pulled out a box of sweets and Cassian grinned, swearing he’d find gifts to repay Cerridwen and Nuala’s kindness.

“What do you want me to say? I’ve barely been at the house since you've left. Mor’s been in between her estate and the human lands. Rhys is always with Feyre doing something or other..”

Something or other, indeed.

“Glad to know you’re all empty without me.” He said, only half joking.

Azriel gave him a mocking smile.

Together they pulled the rest of the contents out of the box. Steaks, luckily, had been included. Along with breads, spices, notes, and candles. There were things for Nesta, too. Books that Nesta probably wouldn’t read and clothes that she definitely wouldn’t wear. Because she hadn’t the last few weeks her sisters had sent them over.

It seemed that Nesta was set on making all of them pay for bringing her here.

Azriel took a deep breath.

“Advice?” He asked softly.

“For me or for you?” Cassian grumbled. Az only gave him a look.

He knew what that meant.

“Ask her to go with you.” Cassian groaned at the idea, but Azriel silenced him, “or the next time I come, I’m going to make sure this box is filled with everything you hate.”

Cassian slapped a hand over his eyes but conceded. He thought of all the ways Nesta could learn how to castrate him in the next 24 hours. She already knew where he slept.

A terrible fucking disaster, he thought.

It always seemed to snow in Illyria. Sleeping mountains under blankets of sterile white. Nesta wanted to grab the pots from the kitchen and bang them as she stomped around. Wake up, wake up, she wanted to yell.

Giants, Nesta imagined shouting. Sleeping, slumbering giants made of stone. Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!

But Nesta did not yell the words from the living room hallway and they did not blink their tired, beady eyes. In fact, the snow seemed to come in harder as she watched from the window. A reminder, she thought, that only the dead and the dormant remained in Windhaven’s eternal winter.

Nesta swiped the glass, her hands scrunching at the cold. The puffs of her breath clearing patches of frost. She could just envision her feet sinking to the ground. One step and then another. Her body shuddering at phantom shivers.

“I can take you to town if you want.”

Nesta stood taller at the rough tone.

“I thought you left already,” She heard herself say.

Cassian’s footsteps pressed into the spines of the floorboard and it creaked as he stepped. Nesta could only close her eyes. The vision of legs… and arms… and severed heads and white—white like bone and snow and bloodless faces and the outline of his eyes as he lied beneath her.

Nesta curled her hand on the window, the urge to push through the glass almost too much.

“I was waiting for you.” He replied, a thousand pieces of glass scratching at his throat. She could hear the tapping of his foot and Nesta wondered if that was what he always sounded like in the morning. Rough from heavy sleep.

She didn’t want to look at him and try as she might Nesta wanted to resist, but her eyes moved and her shoulders moved, and just like all of the other times, her body looked without permission. Her hands itching to touch him as he stood plain in Illyrian leathers. Nesta dug her nails into her palm.

She hated him, Nesta reminded herself. She hoped he suffered.

But half of her brain wanted to chastise her for such a thought.

No, you don’t, it argued.

His hair was tied in bun at the base of his neck and a belt sat at his waist. His leathers fit well, Nesta noted, because she could see the outline of his muscles indented in the fabric and… he was tall. He had always been tall but he stood looming and heavy in front of the hall that led to the front door.

Hulking size was right.

She finally met his gaze and Nesta was annoyed to find that bright, unwelcome gleam and that small tilt of his brow. As if he knew exactly what she was looking at and was satisfied that she’d indeed liked what she saw.

Nesta wanted to grab one of the brown accent pillows and throw it at his head.

“You should have just left,” she fumed, his figure stepping back only slightly as she brushed past him heading toward the dining room.

Nesta took her coat and her gloves from where she had placed them on the table.

The gloves reached her elbows and every time she put them on, she thought of those days where her problems were reduced to something as small and meaningless as becoming a proper young lady. All of that pompous, poshness wrapping around her fingers like silk.

“Nesta…”

She paused at her name from his lips. Such a soft word in that tired sigh.

“I don’t want to fight with you.”

Nesta laughed at that, something terribly cruel settling in the pit of her stomach. Something she felt in her chest, that burned her lungs and made her whole-body tense up.

If only he knew how much she had yearned for their arguments when she was locked in that so-called House of Wind. It had seemed like a tower then, but Nesta had been no princess and Cassian was no prince.

That anger his words caused made her do strange things and she prowled towards him, noting the way he sized her up. His wings growing taller and taller. She raised a brow, as she set a hand on his chest. Her head lowering as she stared at him through her lashes.

He stared at her lips, and Nesta could smell that firewood scent. It brought back memories she did not want to remember.

Nesta could feel the heat of his hands as he settled them at her waist.

“You don’t want to fight?” She teased. “Well, I do.”

Nesta laughed, the sound stark and wicked to her ears.

“You want me to play nice? I won’t.”

“You want me to behave like those sycophantic fools in Velaris. I would never. I am not your lover, I am not your Night Court companions, I am not those idiots that fall at your feet.”

Nesta pulled away, noting the way his eyes hardened where hazel pooled into white. His nostrils flaring as he breathed harshly.

“You are nothing, Cassian.” She hissed. “You have never been worth my time.”

She watched as he swallowed, his eyes cold and unfeeling.

Then he was gone, brushing past her and stalking towards the door with loud steps. A giant in a small house. But he looked back, towards her. Her own breath coming out in silent pants.

“At least, I have a family to go home to.” He spoke, and Nesta clenched her fists. “What do you have?”

Blood rushed to her face, her ears and Nesta stalked towards him, as he pulled the door open and let the freezing air in.

You did this, she wanted to screech, the phrase tasting like blood in her mouth. Nesta wondered when she had begun to hunger for the taste. But she let the words fill her. Her body wanted all of its nourishment.

This is your fault, Nesta wanted to sing, the sentence tasting sweet on her tongue. You failed us, she heard whispered in her ears. Feyre. Elain. You failed me.

But Nesta didn’t say those words out loud and couldn’t even if she tried. Cassian twisted back, taking a breath as he said, “I’m leaving for Ironcrest in a few days.”

“Don’t come back,” she spit, even if the words sounded foolish to her. This was his house.

“I hope you rot there,” Nesta corrected.

Cassian didn’t look at her, but she could see how his shoulders dipped even if the rest of him staid positively still. But he pulled the knob at last, stepping through the door that lit like a beacon in sterile, placid white.

He looked back only once, and Nesta couldn’t name exactly what she saw in that gaze, but she knew what he saw in hers.

“Don’t forget your scarf.” He said, and Nesta raged at every syllable.

The door shut with a click and just like that Nesta was alone. The whirring wind louder than all of her thoughts. Nesta pulled her coat tighter around her, the fabric suffocating her in fur. But she left the scarf on the chair. She didn’t want to touch it at all.

She watched his figure from the window, felt the boom of his wings as he left and only then did Nesta step outside to feel the chill soak into her skin.

Wake up, Nesta whispered.

Ira reminded Nesta of Amren most days. She tried to pinpoint exactly what it was, between the harsh, often critical words to the pragmatic way they both talked.

Ira, though, for all her knowledge, did not invite her to learn more than what she taught, and she seldom answered any of Nesta’s questions like Amren had indulged. Nesta was reduced to cutting up bandages, to clean up duty, to dusting old books handwritten in that language she could not pronounce. It was dull work, tedious work, but Nesta didn’t complain… most days.

Today was no different as Nesta entered the tent to pick up the mop and bucket she’d left there yesterday. But Ira, anticipating her routine, held a hand out in her tracks.

“I need you to go collect these.” She said, handing her a piece of paper with names scribbled in neat cursive. Nesta grazed over the list. “You know what they look like don’t you?”

She nodded her head, the images appearing in her mind between pages and ink. Rose hips and chickweed. Black walnuts, pine, and chicory. She could see the list so clearly; her eyes having studied the pages for weeks.

“Good. Take this before you go,” she took a chain tacked to the wall. One lone bead hanging from the metal. “Our stock is running low and that seems to be the perfect time for Illyrians to start hurting themselves and getting into all sorts of accidents.”

She placed the chain in Nesta’s hand and it laid flat in her palm, the black clay cool against her skin.

A symbol was carved into the center and Nesta yearned to know what it meant. She wanted to ask the female, but she shooed her off.

“Get going. We don’t have all day, do we?”

Ira gave her a look of impatience, shuffling around the expansive tent without so much as a glance, busying herself with collecting herbs and material.

“Where would I go?” Nesta asked lightly, her lips pursing at the lack of knowledge.

“Where would you expect to find plants?” She asked derisively. “You think the kitchens will have them? Maybe the blacksmiths?” The female sighed, shaking her head as if the idea of Nesta exhausted her. “Go to the forest, past the training fields. Show them the medallion and the guards will let you in.”

“You want me to go into the woods. I thought no one was allowed there.”

“You ask too many questions” Ira snapped.

Without further explanation, Ira grabbed the gloves and the scarf from her own chair, shoving them in her hands. “Off you go.”

Nesta refrained from sneering as she picked up the basket, the forest already taking up space in her mind.

Against the entrance of the forest, stakes of wood crossed in a line of X’s. Nesta couldn’t see where the barrier ended or began, but the trees stayed tucked behind common lines.

Windhaven was surrounded by forests, one bleeding into the next, and she found it odd that the Illyrians had tried to contain them. Fences and guards… She half wondered if all the security was made to keep Illyrians out or… something else in. For what was stopping anyone from sneaking all the way through? She, herself, had walked past those damning woods every day.

She looked towards the skies, the color pale and ashy grey. Nesta wished to reach up, wipe a finger along the surface until baby blue shown beneath, but she traced figures instead. The Illyrians flying high above as their shadows played with the sunlight.

Two males stood tall and lean beside the entrance, and Nesta stared as they shuffled at her perusal. Walking towards them, she took the emblem and squeezed it tightly in her fist.

The taller of the two, looked past her and she studied his features. His eyes were a deep shade of brown and his golden skin was lightly dusted with freckles. He was large too, not quite as large as Cassian, but he was strong and muscular and Nesta might have had her eyes on him if she’d been someone else. Someone she hadn’t been in a long time, though she yearned for somehow.

“No one is permitted past these lines. Get back!” The male called out. The other raised a sword in front of the entrance as if he thought she might run through. Nesta wanted to scoff at the gesture.

She noticed the way they eyed her. Not with the subtly of soft sheets or the images of playthings and allure, but with a dark look. A cautious look. As if they didn’t know exactly what would pounce at them if they squirmed.

Interesting.

She smirked softly as they stilled, stalked slowly as they rose in height for every inch lost in distance. Each of her steps a question as to what she was going to do to them. Oh, to have so much power over those who feared her.

Nesta laid out her palm, the emblem pressing against her skin.

“Your healer is requesting I go get supplies and you are standing in my way.” She said coyly.

The male to the left only glanced at his comrade, the bridge of his nose dipping in a silent language that Nesta could imagine meant you deal with this. She pulled the chain back, the emblem falling from her hand as she let it dangle between her fingers. She tilted her head as the male on the right shirked back, sinking into himself in answer. Nesta wanted to laugh.

“You seem to think I have all day,” She taunted, rolling her eyes, but the males did not part. They kept looking at each other, going back and forth and Nesta’s patience wore thin as she tapped her foot.

“For Mother’s sake, one of you follow me in if it makes you feel better!”

But the male to the right, at last lifted the sword from the entrance, unblocking her way. She scrambled past before he changed his mind.

The two closed off the entrance as she became enclosed around trees, and Nesta distantly heard the pretty one grumble something about her lacking manners. Nesta scoffed. Manners of Brutes, she decided.

Nesta surveyed the area.

It was uncommonly dark in these woods where light escaped between fingertips. The forest tops splitting into veins, the trees pulsing. Nesta looked at the note again, though she already memorized it.

Good thing, too, since she had to squint at the paper to see. Even with fae sight, she could barely make out the words.

She set the list back in the basket and sighed.

Nesta looked towards the clearing of rock and roots, spotting the chickory stalks as she walked closer. Nesta knelt to her knees, her hands brushing off snow. She plucked the roots from the ground, digging until it was easy to pull and setting it in the basket.

She’d found the pine on the evergreens, of course. An easy conquest, and sooner than later she had most of the items checked off.

The only thing left was the rosehips… She hadn’t found the rosehips.

Nesta didn’t know how far she’d gone searching for them. Before she knew it, she was circling the area and everything had looked the same to the last 30 minutes. She could barely see the sun.

Nesta shivered as the air seemed to grow colder in the dark, and she pulled her scarf closer to her. Her teeth chattering louder than anything she’d heard thus far.

It was quiet in these woods. Nesta heard her feet crunching beneath her with every step. But in her last attempt, she spotted the vibrant color tucked into wood. Stark against snow, it gleamed red and Nesta reached for it. Twisting her arm between branches where the rosehips had barely brushed her fingers. She tried again and still could not pull off more than a few.

She crouched low, aiming to some at the roots of the evergreen. The front of her dress was already soaked with snow.

Her palm brushed against the branches and it was only then that Nesta realized she was alone in the forest. She was alone in the forest and it had been quiet, and it had been dark. But it had not been this dark, and it had not been this quiet.

Nesta could feel the hair on her arms rise, shivers dancing along her spine like fingertips trailing up her neck. She scrambled to move, but she felt her body lock up and Nesta inhaled slowly as she heard a branch snap.

Nesta closed her eyes, squeezing her lids together as if the sound might disappear again, but she heard another snap a little farther away and she blinked awake. Her hands pushed off the ground without a second thought and suddenly her body was moving.

The sky grew darker still, the trees creaking as they twisted.

Nesta ran into that darkness, ran until she saw the gleam of swords and the wings of two men who would not be happy to see her.

“Did you grab everything?” Ira questioned as a way of greeting. She held a mortar in her hand, crushing contents that made a thick purple paste. Nesta sniffed at the smell.

She set the basket of herbs on the table as she rattled off the list. “I could only find a few rosehips, so I’ll try again tomorrow.”

Ira didn’t so much as look up from pounding away at the concoction.

“I can come back in the evenings after my shift in the kitchens is over,” Nesta continued, pulling out the plants and plucking away at the dirt.

Ira lifted her head. “You never work late.”

“I can,” she admitted, biting her lips. “For the next couple of weeks anyways.”

Ira lifted the pestle until the purple mucilage fell like paint from a brush. Pursing her lips, she eyed her squarely, and Nesta straightened at the look.

“I don’t need you in the evenings.” She drawled.

“Oh,” Nesta remarked, her fingers tracing the needles of a pine branch. “Well, if you need me though, I am free.”

“So, you’ve mentioned.”

Nesta twisted the branch in her hand, the sap sticking to skin. The scent was strong and she wiggled her nose at the smell. “I could start taking inventory… or making list of people we’ve seen.”

Ira slammed the mortar on the table and it rattled so loud, Nesta jumped.

“Illyrians.” Ira corrected firmly.

“What?”

“Not people. Illyrians.” The female clarified, rolling her eyes, groaning as she continued. “I’ve heard you use that word so often. We are not human. And what is this free business? You’ve been firm about that schedule of yours since you’ve gotten here. A fact I find odd since you were the one who begged for a job.”

“I did not beg!” Nesta insisted, dropping the rosehips, the red scattering on the tabletop.

Ira waited for her to explain, and Nesta felt unnerved to be watched by the female who began tapping her fingers nails on the counter. One sharp flick after another.

Nesta tried hard not to twiddle her thumbs… or bite her lips like she wanted to when she got nervous. She’d knocked that habit when she was young. It was strange, she thought, for it to come out now.

“Cassian—you know I live with him.” Nesta began to explain.

The females mouth soured. “The general—yes.”

Nesta nodded her head in agreement, “He’s going away for a while and… I don’t have anywhere to be and I have all of this time. I can work a bit longer.”

“Where is he going?” She asked abruptly.

The question caught Nesta by surprise, but she repeated the name he’d told her that morning.

“He’s going to Ironcrest.” The Illyrian echoed, reaching out a hand to grab a bottle. Nesta watched as she began to spoon the purple contents into the vial. “Marvelous. When you go, you can pick up something for me.”

Nesta’s body tensed. “But I--”

“It’ll save me a trip in the spring.” She admitted. “I’ll get you a list before you go. It shouldn’t be too much trouble.”

At Nesta’s look, Ira quipped a brow. “You asked for extra work, didn’t you?”

The walk back was prettier than she’d expected it’d be. The stars seemingly brighter when they were not hindered by city lights and people’s dreams. Nesta had always wondered what made up the night skies.

She distantly remembered discussing the idea under blankets and sweet giggles. Elain jumping on the bed to declare that stars were hopes manifested, all the accumulation of people’s wants and wishes. Feyre with a laugh shook her head. No, stars were the friends of the moon, she said in that innocent way of hers. So many to shine, so that the moon would never be lonely.

Nesta had not said anything. She was far too logical for that. She needed to research more—find every word hidden in anthologies, alphabetized by S for star or perhaps A for astral planes, or C for constellations… celestial… cosmic… She couldn’t find an answer that satisfied her without proof so she laid back, her head hitting the pillow as her father smiled waxing crescents.

The stars are made of fire, he’d said, tucking the girls in one by one. Feyre at her right and Elain at her left because they still never wanted to sleep alone. It is why they shine so bright and it is why they will keep on shining—like the flickering flame of a candle. To light our way in the dark.

Nesta had held onto those words.

Her father had wanted them to fall asleep to pretty answers, but the questions had danced in her mind, rattling like jumping beans in all corners. How would the stars burn? She wanted to ask. If they were indeed made of fire like her father had said, what caused the fire for they were not made of wood? And if they did burn what would happen when the fire ran out as every fire had before?

But her father, seeing her look, had merely kissed her forehead. A good night to stop those sleepless, ceaseless thoughts of hers and all that would beat across her mind until she was satisfied with an answer.

Nesta couldn’t imagine the stars being made of fire now when they glittered like moving silver in kaleidoscope colors. She didn’t understand how Velaris could be named the City of Starlight, when the residents didn't see this view. Nesta was sure they’d agree had they stood on these mountaintops and snowy plains.

She’d gotten use to the trek, as long as it was. Learned to be excited for it. A moment where she could be by herself, thinking nothing at all.

But Nesta was not alone tonight, where the stars blinked their beady eyes above her. They watched her… and something else did too.

Nesta looked to the unmarked path, the halfway point between Windhaven and the cabin. Too long to run in either directions, she thought.

Standing in the middle of the snow, a cat sat lazily in her way, blinking at her with bright blue eyes. Its fur was orange. Long, and thick. With puffs of white at the chest, and Nesta didn’t know what to make of the creature, whose tail swished back and forth. A curling finger, she imagined, coaxing her forward.

Nesta looked beyond it and then looked behind herself. Too far indeed.

She tried to shoosh it away, flapping her hands forward and hissing at it. But the cat blinked softly, tilting its head at her as if she were the one that didn’t belong, not itself who appeared out of thin air.

Nesta decided then to walk around it. It was just a cat, she thought.

Just a cat, just a cat, just a cat. She repeated.

Only when she’d past it, it’s body twisting to look at her, only when she was sure she was far away, did Nesta turn to survey it again. She jumped as the cat stood beside her.

Nesta stepped once more, and she watched as it did the same. She stopped and it stopped. She walked and it walked. Nesta made motion run, but the cat picked up speed, running alongside her.

Nesta gave up trying to shoosh it away, but that didn’t stop her from watching every swoosh of its tail and counting every time it tried to rub against her. The cat simply trotted in step.

When she reached the cabin, Nesta noticing the lights, rolled her eyes, slumping forward as she kicked up the snow. The cat meowed as the snow hit its face, but Nesta paid no mind.

Cassian was standing in the door frame, his stance wide and open, and she remembered that time across the wall. Her knee hitting the most sensitive parts of him. Nesta doubted she could get away with it now, but he was asking for it she thought, with that stance alone.

Hulking, indeed.

Nesta looked back to the cat, wondering exactly what it thought about this male who stood in their way, but when her gaze finally landed on the snow beside her, the cat was gone. She twisted around, combing the field and the forest surrounding, and nothing. Just as the cat appeared, it had vanished. Into thin air.

Cassian squinted his eyes at her, wanting to see what she saw. Nesta had to restrain herself from grumbling, thinking of orange fur and blue eyes.

Coward, she thought.

Nesta looked back to the pathway and Cassian squinted his eyes to see what had caught her attention. He watched her as she shook her head and looked back at him. Her once serene face swiftly changing to that You are dead look.

“What were you—”

“Is there a reason you're standing in the doorway like a psycho?” She hissed. Cassian stepped away from the door, Nesta brushing past him. He had to try to maintain some figment of composure as he caught a whiff of her scent. Fresh air and lavender.

She caught Azriel’s gaze and Cassian could feel the uneasiness rise. Her eyes squinting at the sight of the two of them conversing in the kitchen, entering her space, pushing the limits she had set in their time here. Azriel hadn’t left like she probably hoped, a reminder that she could not run from any life she’d left behind.

Cassian drifted in front of her, meeting that murderous look.

“I’m leaving for Ironcrest in a few days,” He repeated as he had that morning. Nesta tilted a fine-groomed brow. “And since you don’t want to come with me, Azriel is going to stay with you until I get back.”

“Who said I didn’t want to go?” She voiced flatly. Cassian met her stare, the blue of her eyes a sterile, pale color.

He looked back at Azriel slowly, unsure and a bit confused. His brother merely lifting a shoulder.

“You said this morning that—”

“And now I’m saying I’m going with you.” Nesta said quickly, her words ringing and loud. “Is that not clear? Or are you going to say I can’t?”

Cassian gulped his impatience down, his eyes closing for a moment and the opening again. Who was this female? He wanted to ask aloud as Nesta crossed her arms.

Her cheeks were still red from the cold, her neck still flushed from the heat of the house and perhaps all of that anger that seemed to simmer in her veins, coat her skin, keep her alive, he thought, because he’d not seen her live without it.

In another time, it might have been fun to see all the parts of her that bloomed that pretty red, but now... it was starting to eat away at him in ways he couldn’t satisfy.

“We leave the day after tomorrow,” He managed to grit out, his teeth rattling with restraint.

Pleased with the answer, Nesta took one last look at him, gave one last look to Azriel behind. As if she dismissed them from her presence. As if this was her castle to do so.

She stepped lightly away and when Cassian heard the click of her door slamming shut, he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Cassian sighed, his wings falling in exasperation.

Azriel simply laid a hand on his shoulder and shook his head.

Tagged: @my-fan-side @ekaterinakostrova @anastasia-orlov @lord-douglas-the-third @autumnsletters @soitsgorgeous @sjm-things @courtofjurdan @rogertaylorsfalsettogivesmehives

Cassian and Nesta’s relationship is very slow in this fic as with any fic that I have ever written. I just don’t think they can really get together without a whole bunch of scenes in between, maybe whole books even. Authenticity is the game I play always. Also, I wanted their narratives to sound different, so that’s why Nesta’s is sometimes a lot more introspective and descriptive than Cassian’s may be, which may change a little bit as the story progresses.

I’ll edit this later too, my priority was just posting it...

Comment, like, reblog, ask to be tagged etc if you enjoy this fic and you are anxious to get another chapter! We’ll be in Ironcrest in the next one and maybe we’ll see some Illyrian celebrations... and perhaps Cassian and Nesta start the process of becoming not enemies!

#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #acosf #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofs #qom #vidalinav

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rosepetals-flyingbirds · 5 years

Text

Golden Boy.

With: Steve Rogers x Reader.

Word Count: 3.334

Note: At first, I was trying a Dark!Steve but I failed since I didn’t want to involve rape nor violence. Smut.

You don’t know how this happened.

Better yet, how you agreed to it.

Steve Rogers was a decent man, wasn’t he?! When we saw him in papers or even so politely answering people we would think: ’Uau, that is a man that anyone would marry with. Look at him, all polite and righteous.’

So why you were sitting in his lap panting while he held your body and his cum filled the condom inside of you?

When the night started you didn’t expect to get so lucky to have Captain America fucking you.

But him, showing up his wild side to you? Kept you breathless.

Four Hours Ago.

You didn’t like clubs much, it was all the same, a night that you would spend money, get stressed with uncalled men groping you and probably going home slightly drunk and having to deal with a rude taxi’s driver.

But you needed to have fun, live your life as your friend said, so you did. Placed your best short and uncomfortable dress and went clubbing.

And one hour later you were pissed and slightly anxious. Pissed at the weird sweaty people grinding on you and to four dudes that held your ass, and when you complained you were entitled as a prude.

So fuck it.

You walked away from the annoying place and walked till you could find a calm bar.

Duo your attire some people stared you, but you were pissed so you ignored them and asked for a martini.

You checked your phone entering and closing social media repeatedly, the tv on showed the report about the Avengers’s newest accomplishment.

“What happened?” You called the bartender and pointed to the tv.

“They got some human traffickers. Saved lot of people.”

Well, you couldn’t be pissed with that. It was a great new, to be honest.

Captain America and Iron Man appeared in civilians footage, Tony was handsome, but Steve… you could only imagine having him by your side.

Two drinks later you had enough and asked for a water bottle before paying. Fresh air and water would help to your begging of a dizzy state.

Back at your apartment, you let a sigh, what should have been a good night of unstressing went to a hole of loneliness and doubt.

You loved New York, you always wanted to live there, have the cliche lifestyle every American movie showed whenever the protagonist was in the big city. But you were lonely. You wish you could not care and fuck strangers in the club’s bathroom, or pay for unnecessary stuff not caring for rent or worrying about your future.

Or better yet, you wish you could be transported to a fairyland of princes of good heart that would do the imaginable just to see you happy.

But real life wasn’t like that, it was hard and cruel.

So what could you do?

Glancing in the mirror on the bathroom you stopped from removing your dress. It was 11 pm still and you wanted to see the city moving, but not going down and walking, just gazing at the rocky jungle.

You stepped on your flip flops and went to the rooftop. The atmosphere was calm, calm in the sense of only you could see those people living their lives.

They were down there, getting out of work, going to party, going home, they were laughing or crying or feeling empty like you.

Wasn’t everybody empty?

You sat in the chair that the janitor used on his lunch breaks and sat down to relax, you couldn’t sit in the end of the concrete and let your legs move in the air.

And closing your eyes and feeling your mind meddling in the city’s wildness you heard a grunt and someone stepping in the rooftop.

You jumped out of the chair confused of anyone going up there and even more confused of seeing Captain fucking America on his suit and current longer hair.

“Uh, please don’t tell anyone.”

You looked behind your shoulder and back ar him. “What?”

“That I’m here, I, I’m just really tired and I can’t handle reporters or anyone right now so please just-I”

“You think I’ll start yelling your name or take a picture to post in some stupid social media like Twitter giving the address so people can come here?”

He looked intensely tired but nodded his head.

You let a forced laugh and sat down again in the not so comfortable sun-chair. “Don’t worry, I won’t.” Steve kept looking at you but didn’t move. “Listen, I really don’t know why you’re here at my rooftop but I’m tired too and the last thing I want is people meddling the place. So if you want to… keep doing whatever you came to go on, I just want to keep looking at the lights till I get sleepy.”

His shoulder relaxed at that but he didnt walk to the fire stairs he took nor to the door that let inside the building. He just sat down two meters from you propping his back against one of the walls.

You didn’t look at him because it would make him nervous or annoyed, but the sound of his heavy breath was clear.

Your eyes kept closed and your ears picking the sounds here and there.

Steve was staring at you confused, even if you didn’t freak out about a super hero being near you, didn’t even try to a conversation, you just… ignored him.

Well, ignore is a harsh word, you just respected his space.

Seeing your eyes opening and your body sliding down in the chair so your eyes got directed to the sky, he broke his gaze. “Are you okay?”

You smirked at his question, apparently he was a hero in and off work. “Yeah, just normal crises.” He chuckled but you didn’t look at him, well, not until you sat straight again. “You?”

Letting a sigh he sucked his bottom lip, talking to a stranger could be better than talk to someone you know for years. “Normal crisis too, I guess. I’m just tired.”

“I bet, I mean if me in my normal extraordinary boring life am tired and trying to move on, you having to go around the world and save millions of people… damn.”

He smiled, his eyes closed and he did what you said you were doing ’meddling in the city wildness’.

After a peaceful moment of silence Steve stood up. You looked at him approaching and all of your wild thoughts with him came rushing to you, after all he was right there.

He pointed to the floor next to your chair and you nodded, not being a hundred percent sure of his intentions, so he sat and kept near you. You didn’t think much before getting up and closing the chair placing it where the janitor let’s, but before Steve could feel embarrassed you walked to him and sat by his side.

“Wanna talk? Sometimes talking to a stranger is more helpful.”

“Yeah, I think that too.”

You gazed at his recessive face so you raised your pinky. “I swear whatever you tell me here it won’t leave here. This is a safe place.”

He chuckled. “Like a therapist?”

“Yeah, I guess, well, cutting off the money and the professional look and the watch.”

“Watch?”

“Yeah, the watch in the wall or on the therapist’s wrist where they keep glancing at because the moment you end your scheduled appointment they kick you out or ask for more money.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah.”

He held your pinky with him and you smiled at the gesture. Who would think, Y/N Y/L/N in the rooftop holding pinkies with Captain America?

“We did well today. It was a long case, and we went there to break it out and free those people. And it’s good, refreshing to help them, but it’s always that. We go around the world and shit keeps happening. And at the end of the day I just lay awake before passing out of exhaustion and waking up ready to enter the quinjet and fight another battle again. It’s a routine.”

You didn’t answer him, only shook your head signaling that you understood what he meant. Which he was grateful for, lots of people gave advices, but he just wanted to be heard.

“What is your name?” He asked.

“If I tell you I won’t be a stranger anymore, and then I will not be able to hear you out.”

He smirked at your reply. “Okay, then can I ask why you’re wearing a dress and flip flops?”

“Haven’t you heard? It’s the newest trend.” You joked, but your smile fell and you shrugged your shoulders. “I went out tonight, clubbing, but… but it’s dumb. People are dumb, so I left and came home.”

“Something happened?”

“The normal, loud weird songs that made me feel mental chaos and as I was inside a video game. Men groping me, my friends being drunk and calling me prude because I wasn’t fucking someone in the bathroom. Oh and expensive drinks.”

“Yeah, I don’t like parties much.”

You never stopped to imagine what super heroes did for fun. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, big ones I mean.”

“I bet you never went clubbing, which you should be grateful for.”

Steve smirked and looked at you, he bit his lower lip and looked down at your body. When was the last time he felt lust?

“Can’t afford my face being thrown in media, while I go get drunk people to get hurt out there.” He said and looked down at his hands, being a hero was a full-time thing.

“Imagine one night of freedom, of pure… joy.” You said imagining Steve Rogers being himself.

“Would you want that?” His voice was lower and graver, which sent a chill to your pussy making it clench at nothing.

“Would you?” You asked and Steve could hear your heartbeat accelerating.

Steve moved so he could kiss you, and you were shocked the moment his lips met yours, but you melted on his lips and quickly allowed his tongue to enter your mouth.

He stood up pulling you to his body making your feet touch the ground, his hands went to your thighs pulling you up to him.

You moaned at the kiss and Steve bit your lip making you moan and grind your pussy on his abs.

“Which floor?”

“Third.”

Steve walked to the door that leads to the steps and you left his lips trying to get your breath back. “Wait!” Steve looked at you imagining you wanted to stop. “I, uh, it’ll be better if we go… walking.” You chuckled blushing which made Steve chuckle as well. “Because, you know, neighbors.”

Steve let an almost invisible sigh of relief, but since your senses were hyperware you managed to get it.

Walking to your floor with an awkward silence you almost forgot the heat burning inside of you.

Well, that until you entered your place and Steve held you against his body again. You closed the door and Steve carried you to your bedroom.

He threw you on the bed and you let a small moan at the impact, Steve yelled sex, and with that beard he wore now you knew your panties were soaked.

Steve kneeled in bed trapping your body on his, you touched his arms going up to his neck and taking him to your lips. Steve grinded his covered cock against you, he took his shirt off and his lips went back to yours.

You unbuttoned his pants and took the zip down, making Steve smirk looking at your slightly trembling hand.

Steve ripped your dress and you gasped.

“I really liked that one.” You complained.

“I will send you a new one.”

Taking your bra and panties off you and Steve started to roll in bed. His kisses were rough and his beard scratched but in a wwonderful way.

His strong arms were firm and when he hugged you and squeezed tight you felt safe as aroused.

When Steve was on top of you again he pushed your hips down the bed and trailed kisses on your neck. His nipped and sucked and your hips automatically grinded on him. “Steve.” You moaned.

“Call me, Captain.” He whispered and you moaned at the mere feeling his deep voice sent to your body.

He sucked your right nipple while his hand squeezed your other one. His mouth was so wet and hot and you didn’t know if it was possible to cum only like that.

“Please,” You mumbled.

“Please what?”

“Please, Captain, I, I need you.” You moaned, your cheeks growing hot at the words.

Steve smirked and left an last kiss on your breast. “Good girl.”

He kissed above your belly button and his hands squeezed your hips before trailed them down holding the back of your thighs and opening them.

Steve breathed your scent and moaned, his two fingers went to his mouth and then he started to run it up and down on your wet labia.

“Shit!” You moaned holding the sheets tightly.

His fingers gathered the quantity of wetness he wanted and he entered your pussy. Even Captain America’s fingers were amazing.

He made a come here motion and you jumped when he hit your g-spot. Finally, someone did.

He kept on and on and his piercing blue eyes were fixed on your face, the expression of pleasure made him extremely horny.

He kept on and on and when you came it was like a star fell on your building. Everything turned white and you were shaking.

Before your breath and heart stabilized, Steve held your tights and turned you around.

His hand touched your lower back pushing your back down while your ass was up in the air.

Steve’s lips licked your wetness, and you were surprised.

You pulled your legs together and Steve tasked behind you. “Open your legs.”

“Steve, I, I can’t.” Not another orgasm.

“I wasn’t asking.” He stated and your body was manhandled so your glistening lips were open and shining for his lips.

The way his beard scratched your skin sent another level of arousal through your veins. You moaned and moaned and if Steve wasn’t killing your cunt you could laugh at the karma that is your moaning level, after all, porn stars were exaggerated. Well, if the actors fucked like Steve Rogers does… they aren’t necessarily acting.

A series of slaps went to your ass cheeks and another orgasm reached you.

“Arrghhhhh.”

Suddenly your body was pulled and placed in the bed, your eyes found the ceiling and it looked like the wall was trembling.

Steve smiled seeing the way he made you feel, he kissed his way up and bit your neck playfully.

The level of endorphin running through you was enormous.

Everything was buzzing and when you finally calmed down you were laid on your back with Steve kissing your neck. The smirk on his face would be annoying if he didn’t manage to give you the best orgasm of your life.

You ran your hands on his wide shoulders and attacked his lips with the heated kiss you could muster. His body was like marble.

You scratched his back and bit his lower lip making him moan.

His erection was hot on your thigh and you reached his member holding it in your hand. Steve looked at you and something about breathing the same air was exhilarating.

You pumped his big cock and that man moaning and sweating above you was a sight to behold.

The skin was so smooth and you wanted it inside you, but precaution was important. Steve got slighty confused when you reached to the nightstand.

“Condom.” You whispered.

Steve grabbed the thing and sat on his legs opening the plastic with his teeth. You sat too and kissed his arm while he placed the condom. Honestly, you never understood when people said that didn’t use condoms because it would break the mood. Seriously? Something about men placing the condom on their erect cock was a turn on.

Protect and ready to go Steve attacked your lips again and you felt his cock going up and down on your cunt.

“Fuck.” He cursed on his breath.

Steve sank in and your hands went to hold his face in desperation to hold onto something. The man was with his mouth agape and looking at your expression. “You’re so beautiful. Fuck, so tight.”

He was all in and you couldn’t even move your legs. “Oh my God.” You cried.

And Steve took his cock out till he pushed in again. And soon he made a pace and sat on the bed pulling your legs so your wet pussy was still holding him.

Steve squeezed your waist and pounded into you like he was going to war in the next morning. “Ahhh!”

You yelled and one of his hands held your breast squeezing it tight.

You were almost coming when Steve pulled your body and made you straddle his lap. His right hand held behind your neck so the both of you stared each other and the other one squeezed your ass.

Almost automatically your body started to jump up and down on him and his thrusts met yours.

You literally yelled when you felt your whole body exploding.

Steve cursed again and held you so tight that your need for oxygen got even bigger.

He gave more four deep thrusts and he fell above of you making you two hit the mattress.

Steve moved to his side and you almost thanked him because he was almost crushing you.

You looked at him and covered your eyes giggling. “Uau, I can’t believe the night turned out like that.”

“In a good way?” He asked.

“In an amazing you.”

“To be honest, me too. I’m glad I got up in your apartment’s rooftop.”

You laughed at his response but your mind went to the logical spot saying that this was over and you would never see Captain America again.

Steve sat on the bed and you stared at his defined back while he looked at the door. “I should leave.”

The inevitable.

“Yeah.” He looked at you and you gave him a small smile, you didn’t want to sound clingy.

“Unless… nothing.” He started to speak but shook his head and got on his feet.

“Unless what?”

“If you… allowed me to stay, the night I mean. But I know its weird.”

“Weird?”

“21st century weird?” He tried.

You laughed and got on your feet opening your wardrobe. “You can stay, it’s okay, I actually prefer if you… you know, stay.” Pulling a boxer underwear you threw at him.

“What is this?”

“So you can sleep on, its mine so don’t you worry.” He looked confused at first. “I bought three of those, they are loose and comfortable. Panties can be annoying sometimes, so I use those to sleep.” You explained. Looking at his uniform on the floor you and pointed to the bathroom. “And if you want to take a shower you can, there are clean towels in the second drawer.”

Steve accepted the inventation and you laid in bed while he took the shower.

Captain America wouldn’t steal your house, right?! And after some drinks, three orgasms and the fact that it was four in the morning you drifted to sleep.

Later on, you felt muscled arms holding you close, it was a feeling of safety that you welcomed with open arms.

Steve kissed your neck and pulled the duvet above you two. “What is your name?”

Mumbling your answer Steve smirked at your response. “If I tell you we won’t be strangers anymore.”

“Maybe that would be a good thing.”

Your heart flustered but you tried to not create expectations, even if it was really really hard. “Y/N. My name is Y/N.”

Steve repeated your name and you smiled at how good it sounded in his lips.

…

Honestly, Steve with a beard can have me any time, anywhere.

#steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #captain america x reader #captain america smut

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that-mom-friend-talks · 4 years

Text

Sanders Six the Musical

I’m listening to the soundtrack again and I’ve had thoughts so-

this is when they actually all get along, no dark side light side bs

EX WIVES: Aragon is Roman, paragon of royalty indeed, very loyal and a big diva, petty. Boleyn is Remus, would split nations bc he’s too sexy and would be proud of that, would definitely get executed. Seymour is Patton, a parent, died, puns. Cleves is deceit bc the whole discourse over looks. Howard is Virgil bc coming in strong and sassy but if you look at it too long its angst. Parr is Logan, bc composed elegant and badass, also lowkey narrator, keeps everyone on track, also smart one liners.

NO WAY: opens with Roman just patting himself on the back for how much he dealt with, throwing shade, golden rule, heavy Beyonce vibes and he would, petty about Remus. proud and spiteful, extravagant and breaking into rap. royalty and won’t let you forget that, will never leave. hella vocals and will flaunt them at any given moment to remind you how awesome he is. dance break!! i imagine him twirling his sword and kicking ass while dancing or smth. break for seriousness, still beautiful vocals, petty and shady and just for it. stands his ground, will be royalty forever regardless of what happens. doing his damnedest to make you regret dumping him.

DON’T LOSE UR HEAD: Remus mentions he’s royalty but that’s like it. boys lame? gay disaster. seriousness isn't his thing. met the king and wanted to f. cocky and definitely not pg. flirty and immature, also dismisses all criticism. faking innocence, but not naivete. is the side ho, and definitely would homewreak without regrets. gives Roman a ton of shit, makes gruesome comments. does the unorthodox and terrible way of dealing with situations. just wants to fuck, why is religion like this. but now he’s the main ho not the side one and he’s over it. would definitely get executed for stepping out of line/ over the line. legit doesn’t know what the proper response is but will mask that with sheer chaotic energy. where did the vocals come from, goddamn. really doesn't care for repercussions.

HEART OF STONE: Patton!!! knows how the other person is changing all the time. he knew what he was getting himself into, but promised he’d be with them. heart of stone, he’d always be by your side and despite everything that he feels and deals with he will make it through. life is hard and emotions can be rough, but he will be there through all of it. famILY! loves deeply and truly, but knows that it can change. but he doesn’t care! he’ll still love you. wow this song is beautiful ok. knows his time is limited ??? his love can be felt from wherever you are, he will always be there with you regardless of what’s going on. cares deeply about his son. THE HIGH NOTE GET IT!!! he will bear everything in order to lighten your load a little, but he won’t break, because he loves you too much.

HAUS OF HOLBEIN: Remus made this the song that plays whenever someone enters the darkside hallway and they don’t know how to change it back. just the twins and Virgil fucking with deceit, tbh. but he’s vibing with the song so it’s not terrible. Logan is factchecking and Patton is just dancing along not really listening. Virgil has the airhorn. everyone is doing meme dances. it is chaos and cringe incarnate they’re lucky Virgil is a meme lord.

GET DOWN: Deceit by himself being a damn diva. Virgil and Remus woof. profile picture he looks like either Logan or Patton. but he’s got a pic of him doing like a smolder. he’s in charge and trying to be subtle about it but he’s too dramatic so it’s just him bragging. oop a religion reference. Remus and Roman are back up dancers. Deceit being really petty about being pushed aside. instead of the slow mo its the opera version. check out the american cleves. its beautifully sassy. he’s different and flaunts it. the ending is so badass, he would just have all six hands out and being cool. the song is just him being super duper sassy.

ALL YOU WANNA DO: Virgil. in the beginning hyping himself up (like when he was first introduced) but it just progressively gets worse. innuendos all day long, Remus is making crude hand motions in the background. starts off innocent and romantic but like the world just crushes it. i hate this song bc of how wonderfully it conveys the trauma, i feel atrocious at the end of it everytime it’s incredible. Trust issues!! starting to become suspicious of others, and eventually certain that all other people do is be cruel and abuse you. he’s finally got a place!! he feels comfortable!! then something happens and that’s not the case anymore. god this song is terrifying. progressively becoming more numb and cynical and covered. THOMASSSS. honestly yeah i’m down with that. just bar the “connection” and i’d say it’s spot on. anyways. a panic attack in the midst of a song? you bet your ass he’s still got a gorgeous and haunting voice. eyeshadow progressively getting darker the whole song. Patton is sobbing, everyone is crying. The song ends with a group hug bc that’s some heavy shit

I DON’T NEED YOUR LOVE: Logan!! my boy!! anyway. he has a love (his work, another side, take your pick) but he wont’ let himself indulge because he has to survive. he has to do what he must in order to keep living, and sometimes that means he can’t do what he loves. he still loves them/it but he can’t. emotions!!!!!!!!!!!! also he’s got an angelic voice like its so clean and smooth and elegant. has responsibilities that he must deal with, but he really doesn’t want to. those repressed emotions come out and he’s so damn fed up with how he’s treated and he’s just venting and releasing his anger. but he can’t. it will interfere with his responsibilities. narrator mode get that exposition. why should that be what you know of him though? he’s so much more than just his role! he loves space and writing and poetry and songs. advocate for education and human rights!! but he metas and knows that’s not his purpose in the story so he stays within his role or else he’ll disappear. and the others butt in on the moment bc he can’t have a song to himself. but he rallies everyone to put their differences aside and they all indulge in what they wish happened. they don’t care about the plot! they don’t care about the story! they are just who they are, each individual and different and people! and Logan doesn’t need validation and he’s not lying this time! also the vocals here god i love this song so much hnng. THE HIGH NOTE GET IT YESSSS. he would bc he’s a secret diva no one can tell me otherwise.

SIX: Roman rejects a prince bc he’s a king and he just sings for the rest of his life at the top of the charts indeed. Remus plagiarizes and becomes famous for it, putting his own twist on it. Patton just has a big famILY and they all get along and sing, also puns! someone face palms at them. Deceit brightens up the darksides bc he’s the wine aunt and a dad. Virgil avoids trauma and learns what he wants, and enjoys his music for the rest of his life. Logan is fascinated with the others, and admits that he loves the other sides. they know that this isn’t canon but boy are they taking it for a ride. THEY ALL START GLOWING IN THEIR COLORS BC I SAID SO. THE ENDING!!! screams epic magic girl transformation to me for some reason. everyone is having a blast, and at the end they all merge into thomas who shoots upright with a smile

if only i could animate man. this would be so good, if anyone at all makes this i will cry someone please do something i’m begging

#ts headcanon #ts logan #ts roman #ts patton #ts logan sanders #ts virgil #ts deceit #ts deciet #ts remus #six the musical

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hobidreams · 4 years

Note

Omg Rain!!! RAIN!! My heart 🥺🥺 I have many things to scream about!! For now, just know my heart is warm and toasty like a nice lil bon fire on the beach. We both know I'll be back to scream with commentary soon 🥰🥰

LITERALLY I CAN’T LOVE U ANYMORE FOR THIS 😭😭😭

+ RAINNNNNNNN YOU WERE RIGHT T-T I loved May 1861, probably my favorite drabble thus far, omg my heart!! I’ve already read it multiple times, it’s so sweet and innocent. The word that comes to mind after reading it is whimsical. The fact that she is allowed into the crown prince’s PRIVATE library sounds UNHEARD OF. Like she must be important to him to have the opportunity??? I’m soooo endeared when she thinks she’s alone and disappointed in not being able to spend time with Yoongi!!

wheeeee yes whimsical is definitely the feeling i was going for!!!! i really had to tap into all my memories of my teenage years of pining for this drabble HAHAH. yess, it’s quite a private location heheh

+ And the way they shared a seat together “to ease the strain on your eyes” HAHAHA ok I see you kids… pg rated flirting 😉 ok but Rain, mc gushing about the new flower book tho I just KNOW baby boy yoongles made sure to get it for her!!! And I LOVE how he’s pretending to be “studying” cus “you both know he hasn’t turned the page in quite a few minutes.” I have a feeling the times they shared were just as memorable and meaningful to him as they were to her. It feels like he’s been sitting in his library waitin for her arrival. I bet there have been times where he’s just sitting there with an upside down book cus he’s not really interested, just wondering when her nerd ass is gonna join him HAHAHAHAH

ok but who out of us has not done such foolish things for love 😂😂 im glad you love this bc thinking about him doing this made my heart melllllltttt

+ but my FAVORITE PART is mc watching as the sun shines on yoongi’s face and you can just FEEL her fall in love with him. “How the light dapples across the nose that occasionally scrunches in irritation at the countless dust particles floating around, haloing him in a golden glow that you wish you could capture in your memory for safekeeping… You wish for this moment to go on for a lifetime.” It’s so poetically written, well done!!

YESSS omg i’m so glad it came out well for you bc i really wanted to play up that softness, that moment. i was feeling like there wasn’t enough imagery in the series so. LMAO. time for me to fangirl over yoongi, huh?

+ BUT WAIT. Another thing I MUST scream about- the pavilion. At 13 years old yoongi finds out it’s her favorite, and when he becomes king he personally commissions it to be remodeled as you had mentioned in the second drabble… ergo he doesn’t strike me as someone who doesn’t have feelings for mc. Just sayin…

😉😉😉😉😉😉 im actually so pleased that so many of you remember the pavilion hahah. i was thinking no one would connect the two but now!!! y’all make me so happy.

+ And the way mc understands that her feelings are doomed from the start. “… you’ve known that the distance between you is too vast to ever be breached. To not fall would have been the most painless, but in hindsight, impossible. if concealing the truth will allow you to be close to him, then maybe that will be enough for someone like you.” Ugh, so sweet at the beginning, only to crush my hopes at the end. I just don’t see how they can ever really be together?? Unless… MLT is meant to be a tragedy omg but I’d still stay with it to the end, I’d let you break my heart.

🥺🥺 omg you have such faith in me...... hahahah....... i won’t say much but only that your trust is not misplaced & i will do my best heheh...... 💕

+ “Just remember that you are always deserving of love. No matter what.” Such a good point for us all to remember. Mc's given up so much for Yoongi, I just hope it's worth it in the end. And since this whole thing is told from mc's perspective, I'm really curious as to what's rattling around in Yoongi's brain (... and heart) ILYSM RAIN!! Sending all my love :)

yesss!!! pls always keep that close to your heart bc you deserve everything. 💓 his POV will actually be coming up soon, but that doesn’t mean there will be much exposition because i’m cruel 😂💖 thank you so much for this incredible feedback, as always. i literally get so excited when i see ur url pop up 🥰 pls take care!!!! ily back!!!!!!! ✨

#the desire to just tell you everything is Real #but i will keep my secrets...... for now..... hehehe #moonlit throne #lcksndkys #rain reply

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incorrectcatfacestudios · 5 years

Text

MID Fusion Headcanons

Using steven universe fusion rules alongside some of my own.

There will likely be another post like this one, a part 2

So the rules

Emotions are shared.

Memories are not shared, if one component doesn’t want to share a memory with another then the memory will not be shared.

Abilities gained are formed from both of their personalities

All the colored parts of their clothes change to the components combined colorscheme

They form based off of the characters perceptions of eachother, Making each of Ava’s fusions an ACTUAL POWERFUL SORCERESS

Their powers are multiplied by how much love/compassion each component feels for the other. Thus Noi usually supplies the most power to his fusions. Often new powers are gained.

Starting with Leif and Noi

A risk taker,

DEFINITELY would be an entertainer, would want all attention to be on them at all times. A show off through and through

He would have very fluffy pastel pink hair.

ALWAYS SMILING unless Leif is experiencing fear. Sometimes when one is feeling a negative emotion the other is feeling a positive one, this shows in their facial expressions. So sometimes the smile feels strained, fake, or evil. IF ITS SUPER SERIOUS he will frown

gets SUPER JEALOUS REAL QUICK,and if they are not front and center or if someone else steals the spotlight from them expect Angry crying, and violence! :D

“HEY AVA! DID YOU SEE THAT?!? WASN’T I COOL!!! PLEASE TELL ME I WAS COOL! I mean I ALREADY KNOW I WAS COOL BUT-”

Requires constant validation to feed his EGO.

Flirtier than his components.

BOUNDLESS ENERGY LIKE! WAAAAYY TO MUCH ENERGY

Would dance around the battlefield with their newfound abilities like a performer.

AMAZING AT SWEET-TALKING, and charming others

Far more likely to use healing magic than Leif ever was.

He has a tendency to angry cry.

Would be much stronger at the beginning of the series than he would if they fused in episode 13

His weapons are duel cutlasses

Noi enjoys the confidence boost he gains in the fusion while Leif enjoys the amount of JOY he feels doing things that would normally bore him. He likes seeing things from Noi’s POV.

Can disappear in a cloud of puffy sparkly smoke,

Very flexible, gains dancing skills

Can generate electricity within his body and ZIP ZOOP AROUND

most of his magic is glittery and sparkly

Wears lime green or olive clothing. has green eyes. has lime green horns

So Leif views Noi as a kind hearted lovey dovey fool, while Noi views Leif as a bully and a psychopath, but also a powerful superhero who’s amazing. Hence why when fused they are a kinda mentally unstable performer.

Leif and Rhys

He would never form

BY FAR ONE OF THE WEAKEST OF THE FUSIONS

When first formed he has an impossible time deciding who he is or even staying together. he doesn’t have an identity or a voice.

He Gains one much later as the 2 begin to understand each other more.

Has a scientist surrounded by nature vibe to him. Like instead of metal machines he has ones made completely out of plants. Though he’d only gain this if Rhys and Leif were feeling particularly good about eachother that day. Or if they had a strong positive feeling keeping them together. Otherwise he’d be unable to create or even keep any of it.

So yeah he can make a rocket out of wood, vines, & various other flora and fauna.

He has a variety of high level technology yet all of it is made of wood, plants, or bone.

If exposed to alot of media, and pop culture by the time he forms he would be a MAD SCIENTIST/ MAD DOCTOR character.

Lots of maniacal laughter

If Rhys would permit it he can be quite cruel and preform some....interesting experiments on his enemies

Would be very interested in the world around and would LOVE TO DISSECT THINGS

his glasses turn into goggles

He’d probably have oversized scientist gloves

is likely to scream EURIKA!!!

very forgetful.

Wants to learn as much as he can no matter the situation

when fused Leif experiences the curiosity Rhys feels and Rhys feels Leif’s LUST FOR BLOOD.

Would often find interest in human artifacts and objects finding joy in dissecting them and finding out how they work

has the ability to create unholy amalgamations from destroyed objects or carcasses.

He’d also gain the ability to control the growth of plants around him & manipulate them using the water inside.

Lightbrown/Ginger hair

Wears alot of cyan

Their weapon would be a whip of some kind. or a spear

Studies alot on doctor stuff. wants to get a phd

Has cyan horns like Pierce, though they bend in a way that combines both horns. and are much larger than either components

Asch and Rhys

WOULD HAVE A FLUFFY POMPADOR

Looks like a fucking greaser but their not at all

Always frowning

VERY STRONG despite not seeming like it

Has Dark blue eyes, and periwinkle horns, that curve backwards than forwards

VERY POLITE & regal.

Doesn’t really show much emotion, good at decision making, and a pretty rounded leader. though...their missing something.

Knows when to take action and when to stand down.

Can create smokescreens. manipulate water, fire & Ice

pretty stronk

Asch’s leadership skills and Rhys’s good decision making mix together to create a perfect and rational decision maker.

Has a lighter skin tone than Rhys but a much darker one than Asch.

Probably gains a British accent for the poshness.

Will occasionally raise a hand to threaten you but then close it clenching his fist and continuing to talk

ASCH’S CAPE AND RHYS’S TRENCHCOAT COMBINE TO BECOME A BIG FLOWY CAPE COAT WITH A FLUFFY FUCKING HOOD BECAUSE THAT’S CUTE AF, their torso shirt is grey while they have Asch’s lil sash around their waist, ((it’d be purple)) and Rhys’s pants ((except a tad bit darker)) Rhys’s arm bands would cover Ashe’s bandages.

Wears a lot of PURPLE, like magenta purple.

checks himself out behind closed doors

Adores being together. They just feel right

Everyone goes to them for advice

Ava & Pierce

has a blue scrunchy

LONG FLOWING HAIR

NEVER TALKS EVER, keeps to themselves even more than both of their components.

Would HAVE ENORMOUS HAIR like......WAYYY TOO BIG! and scruffy. and they’d always be leaning on a big old cloud that they’d float on.

Cats. CATS CAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATTTTTTTTTTTTTTTSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Has 2 floating arms hovering around them for petting cats. LIKES FLUFFY

A very caring individual despite their cold standoffish nature

Constantly tired

Seems like they don’t care about anything despite the fact that they do...far more so than anyone else even

Has strong maternal instincts. VERY good with kids. & Loves children far more than either their components.

Will only wake up to pet cats or play with kids.

The child loving part comes from Pierce. Ava notices that Pierce feels this way and encourages it.

Only goes by They/ Them pronouns. Nonbinary

Drinks like 50 cups of coffee a day trying not to pass out.

Needs coffee 24/7 to stay awake cause otherwise they’d just get too comfortable with eachother and dose right off to sleep

Almost always cuddling something soft, weather it be a cloud they conjured up, Johnny, a plushy, Noi, whatever if its a soft and cuddly thing you can bet your ass that its in their arms.

Wears a mix of Ava’s pajama’s and Pierces Human Disguise. in Blue. That or a cat onesie

Their not that bright but not that dumb either

Ava enjoys this fusion because she gets to feel tall.

They care for themselves. and take care to make sure they don’t get hurt.

A very deep thinker, that likes to take their time in situations. VERY CREATIVE.

stoic af

Their also very blunt and if annoyed will tell you “Your annoying. Go away” in a very sleepy slow manner.

Tired af 24/7 doesn’t want to deal with anyones bullshit. EVER

VERY POWERFUL

When they sleep ((on a certain bed)) a giant forcefeild forms around them and a cloud gaurdian of sorts forms around it fighting for them as they dose off.

Their weapon is a bed.

The components feel this since of peace when together. While they do close off more they also just...enjoy eachothers company in silence. Expect long sessions of meditation from them . or just casual reading.

They feel....very at peace and relaxed when together and hate being interrupted

has purple eye’s. & Deep blue horns

Pierce & Rhys

If exposed to enough pop culture by the time they fuse I feel like they would have a cop aesthetic.

“You haven’t been causing any trouble now have you?”

Is always watching. Has new abilities to help him watch & keep the peace.

Alot quieter than Rhys, but also like....more talkative then Pierce

VERY STERN. and WILL stare you down

An intelligent man, of course even smarter than Rhys.

CAN MAKE HAILSTORMS

can produce snow out of nothing.

Wears Sky blue.

Will often study others with compassion.

VERY MUCH LIKE A DAD

May or may not make dad jokes

HAS VERY STRONG OPINIONS OF ASCH ((They really like him))

He has light mocha skin, Fluffy curly brown hair done in a ponytail, Dark Turquoise eyes , Dark Turquoise horns that curve backwards than away from eachother, and a fake mustache. No one knows where the mustache came from but its detachable!

DON’T SNATCH THE STACHE!!! They will lay down the law on you

The way they speak when they first fuse and when they later fuse are Pretty different

For the Original Incarnation“ You wouldn’t be planning on violating the RULES that our gracious prince has set for us RIGHT 𝙇𝙀𝙄𝙁”

And for the 2nd incarnation they’d talk more like a T.V. show cop in certain situations. Though they’d still somehow manage to maintain this level of elegance despite it. (Mostly shown through his movements and tone))

“ Roger that! Don’t worry Mrs. P I’ll take this troublemaker off your hands.” *Looks towards Leif “ HOW DARE YOU RAISE YOUR WEAPON TO A DEFENSELESS LADY !?! I wrecken your in for a day in the SLAMMER”

The slammer is just an ice prison Rhys makes while in this fusion.

Instead of a Cop at first the fusion would be a of a VERY POMPOUS knight. Like chivalry incarnate. Proper, Polite, Dashing, Kind, & Loyal these Traits would carry onto its cop incarnate

Their weapon is originally a sword with a magical crystal in the center but as they learn more about human culture it would change to a gun

doubles down on watching literally everyone and IS ALL UP IN YOUR BUSINESS.

This fusion basically says whatever it wants cause no one really knows whats going on in Pierces head and Rhys can just blame it on him without him actively caring about it, because he doesn’t.

Another ability other than creating snow and hail would be making floating ice crystals that can be used as a “camera” of sorts. He can use them to keep a watch on the others

Ava & Noi

One of the strongest of the fusions ((mostly due to Noi))

Nonbinary goes by She / her, they / them

because Noi views Ava as this powerful sorceress they BECOME a powerful magic user, and Ava Views noi as this mystical demon dude from dimension so as a result their fusion is this magical girl/boy/NB

Wears red and has red eyes, with orange horns.

Magical girl / Nonbinary aesthetic.

Noi’s earnsty affects Ava in a way that causes her to be more honest. thus making the fusion very earnest in affection.

They have a strong since of justice and a want to protect. out of love

Noi once again his honesty affects Ava in a way that makes her more transparent./loving

Enjoys life to the fullest and having fun, as long as its not something stupid.

Quite literally loves themselfs....onesidedly its complicated. But they do enjoy themselves and rarely ever put themselves down.

Their weapon is Noi’s daggers mixed with Ava’s phone or a toy she has laying around

Can shoots out sparkles, rainbows, & various other magical girl esque attacks and has to call out their attacks to use them.

All of their magic is magic Noi has never seen or heard of before. but they are ones Ava’s seen in anime or T.V shows. Magical girl shows.

They’d try to surround themselves with friends and people who like them and kind of be an attention whore.

Probably the most outwardly friendly of the fusions

Would love getting headpats

Would also definitely wear many different aesthetic cat ears and post them all over insta.

Tries to act cutsie wootsie for attention. sometimes feigns innocence to gain popularity

Noi & Asch

A COMPLETE BRAT, brings out all the negative traits from eachother.

EXTREMELY EMOTIONAL AND BAD AT HIDING IT

Tries to act cool and together but really just a mess.

They’d look like a really big imposing scary looking yet upset and almost crying clown?

Self loathing x 10

“I-I’m NOT CRYING YOU’RE CRYING!! MYEEEEEEEEEH”

Extremely passionate and LOVES hugging everything when happy and angrily screaming at everyone when mad. they are a literal ticking time bomb of emotions. Though just because he loves it doesn’t mean he WILL hug he just likes doing it even if he doesn’t like to admit it . and will if emotional/impulsive enough at that moment in time, after which he will play it off and try to make up an excuse.

Clumsy AF.

Tends to get super jealous and wants to be a part of EVERYTHING

Acts like a really proud child.

Throws temper tantrums when they don’t get their way

due to Noi’s more open attitude towards feelings and Asch’s intense emotions that he often keeps bottled up. They feel the full FORCE of both, All whilst trying to act like nothings wrong.

He kind of hates himself but at the same time kinda doesn’t ? its complicated.

EXTREMELY LOW SELF ESTEEM

Wears orange, has light brown spiky hair, and light yellowy orange hair. His eyes are brown

Their powers also go off like an explosion. Usually his attacks are far weaker than either Noi or Asches. and they have lower stamina as well. Their powers build up and up inside of them until it bursts out. When they burst they do massive damage to pretty much everyone around them. Friend or foe. Its like a combustion of magic. Firey sparks and explosions in all directions.

Their powers are linked to their emotions though the larger their emotional outbreak, and the more they let out the stronger the attack.

Their weapon is a bunch of explosive bowling pins. that they juggle around.

Leif & Asch

Extremely likely to stab someone

Wears ALOT of gold. his hair turns a dusty grey color and his eyes are a dark teal. His horns become a golden yellow, The only pops of color on him besides gold and black are red & Green but only in gemstones.

Values himself above all else

ALWAYS SCREAMING

Expect 10 times the villainous monologues

“YOU WILL BOW BENEATH ME “

Loves showing their power through extremely violent means.

Asch’s wrath and Leif’s crazy mix in a way that is just incredibly hostile to literally everyone.

PRONE TO VIOLENT OUTBURSTS

Hates being bothered

“LEAVE ME ALONE! “ “ KNEEL PEASENT” “ HAHAHAHAAHAHAA YOU REALLY THINK THAT YOU STAND A CHANCE AGAINST ME?!?! HAHAHAHAHA! Stand down human. It’ll be easier that way. “

has Asch’s condescending attitude.

Loves nothing more than bullying others and just making people feel bad.

Also loves taking selfies. Like...too much. Has a tendancy to stare in the mirror for elongated periods of time admiring his muscles.

Hates being ignored. Like many of the other fusions. this one gets the MOST pissy about it though

Feels like everything in the world belongs to him and that he deserves it, fuck anyone who disagree’s I’ll just blow their heads off with my fire magic.

Complimenting him and feeding his ego is the only way to stop his violence. Depending on how you do it that is. Like complimenting his strength could make things worse

has NO PATIENCE WHATSOEVER

LAVA. They can create LAVA together. They melt them bitches down to Asch.

Ava and Asch

RAMPID CURSER

Ava’s salt mixed with Asches wrath. THEY ARE VERY ANGRY AND PISSY 24/7

Kinda thotty. but also not? its complicated. Maybe forward would be the best way to put it

Lies constantly. Its never ending. Like they lie to everyone their friends, their enemies, their family, themselves.

Will eat food off the floor.

They are extremely rude and foul mouthed. They never seem to get along well with anyone and are prone to making death threats when annoyed. They never follow through with them of course but.

One of the few ava fusions to fuse both of their regular attires together. a Reddish pink shoulderless jacket with a cape at the back. They have a FLUFFY light pink hood, and their pants are poofy towards the end with black and pink stripes. They also have asch’s arm sleeve thingy.

grows impatient REAL quick and is prone to use deadly force...well pseudo deadly force when angered

Like stabbing

Literally pissed, annoyed, or tired 24/7

Loves being in control of everything

In battle they constantly taunt their opponents. Using a disturbing variety of swearwords & unique Self-esteem breaking insults.

Wears ALOT of pink. Has red eyes however. but their outfit is just a bunch of pinks and blacks.

Nonbinary goes by he/him they/them

The other 7 will be in part 2 I need time have to think of them. I’ll add more later!

#Aphmau #My Inner Demons #Ava #Asch #Rhys #Leif #Pierce #Noi #Fusions #Aphmau Fusions #Headcanons #MID #MID FUSION HEADCANONS #Fusion HCS

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hiddendreamer67 · 5 years

Text

The Sanders Games- Part 3 (The Alliances Begin)

(Find a link to previous parts in my reblog, and updates are on Fridays.)

Pssst...also, I know most of my followers are g/t trash, and this is just humans, but this is my murder baby and of course don’t feel obligated to do anything if this ain’t your cup o’ tea but if you’re at all interested please consider reblogging and leaving comments. I just want to know if people actually like this and it’s worth sinking in the time. 😅

Summary: In the 75th Hunger Games, only one male* tribute is chosen from each of the twelve districts. As the tributes begin their training, alliances are formed and enemies are made, including what may be a change in the all-so-important annual career alliance.

(story starts beneath cut because there’s a mention of blood but in this chapter we’re still not in the games yet so no actual violence).

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Emile looked down at his lunch, some sort of fancy meat dish made by the capital with a red sauce. However, as the burgundy liquid pooled, Emile couldn’t help but picture it as blood. And then it became his blood, and his fingers were covered in it and it wouldn’t stop coming and a career was cackling over him ominously…

“-mile?” Patton’s gentle voice finally broke through his daydream. “Can I have my arm back?”

“Oh, sorry.” Emile winced, letting go of Patton’s arm. He wasn’t aware he had reached out in the first place.

“It’s okay.” Patton assured him, feeling the eyes of the Peacekeepers watching them. “You didn’t hurt me.” It was against the rules for a tribute to harm another before the games, but thankfully Emile’s nails hadn’t dug deep enough to do any damage.

“Thank goodness.” Emile gave him a soft smile. Patton was such an unlikely find. Emile had never expected to make friends coming into the games, but here he was- actually having fun goofing off with someone just days before he was going to die. What a crazy world they lived in.

A sudden gasp from Patton startled Emile out of his daydreaming. “Oh, my goodness gracious, you know what I just realized we are?”

“…tributes?” Emile tried, hoping Patton hadn’t somehow gotten brain damaged. That would certainly hurt them in the games, where they had already decided to form an alliance.

“Glasses bros!” Patton squealed, tilting his glasses up and down for emphasis.

“Oh my goodness, yeah!” Emile chuckled, having not noticed that. “I guess we are.”

“We should grow our little glasses alliance.” Patton hummed, looking out at the lunch room that was slowly dwindling as tributes went back to training.

“Uh…are you sure that’s a good idea?” Emile winced.

“Why not? The more friends the merrier.” Patton shrugged, seeming aloof.

Yeah, more friends you’ll have to watch die. Emile kept that thought to himself. He already knew he was going to die, but at this point he was just rooting for Patton to survive. Emile knew Patton was too pure to win the games, but he was also too pure to be slaughtered like this. A perfect ray of sunshine that was doomed to be covered by storm clouds.

“What about that one?” Patton tugged Emile along. “He’s wearing glasses. Er, sunglasses. Hello!”

“Ugh, unsubscribe.” Remy, the district nine boy, rolled his eyes and pushed right past them towards the door.

“…I don’t think you’re going to find anyone like us.” Emile admitted. Everyone in the games either was a Debbie downer waiting solemnly for execution, or…Emile shuddered…a career. How terrible to think there were kids his own age who actually wanted to murder others and had even volunteered to be here. It made Emile’s stomach churn.

“Oh wait, he’s wearing glasses too.” Patton pointed to the boy from district three, now sitting alone. Patton walked right up, sitting across from him. When the boy didn’t react, Emile hesitantly followed suit.

“Hi there!” Patton stuck out his hand. “I’m Patton.”

“District 11.” The tribute corrected, clearly not caring for naming his fellow tributes.

“Patton.” Patton repeated, sticking his hand out further. The boy didn’t look up, continuing to fiddle with a device in his hands. Slowly, Patton lowered his hand. “What’s your name?”

“Seems irrelevant to learn the names of individuals I will only know for a few days.” He finally gave them a glance. “I suggest you adopt the same philosophy.”

“Um, do you want to join our alliance?” Emile asked timidly.

“Hardly.” He scoffed.

“O-oh.” Emile shrunk back in his seat. Of course, Patton was undeterred.

“We’re calling it the glasses bros.” Patton informed him. This gave him pause.

“You approached me because I wear spectacles?” He looked up, raising a judgmental eyebrow.

“Yup, we figured us four-eyes have to stick together.” Patton giggled.

“How quaint.” He turned back to the device. “Perhaps your little alliance will spare you for a few days, but it would cause you less pain to submit during the initial massacre.”

Emile reeled back, shocked at his blatant attitude. He wasn’t the only one.

“What is your problem?” Patton frowned.

“It’s our reality.” The boy shrugged. “I don’t understand why you’re attempting to make social connections when we’re nothing more than glorified sacrifices.”

“Well that doesn’t mean we have to act like it!” Patton huffed, frustrated tears coming to his eyes. “You’re so cruel. If we’re all going to die, we might as well die being nice to each other!”

“Patton, c’mon.” Emile hurriedly tugged Patton along, not wanting to cause a scene. “We should get back to training.”

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Peter looked around the training ground, eyeing the competition during the second day. The careers were in the middle of the room, at the weapons station while showing off. Everyone else was cowering, choosing the frilly stations like first aid or plant identification instead. Well, that certainly wouldn’t do. The careers had been hogging the axe station yesterday as well, and Peter had his own flexing to do.

Of course, if he was planning on making enemies (which he was), Peter knew it would be best to make an ally or two as well. He smirked, spotting his target already trying to secretly eye him.

“Hey, kid.” Peter greeted, walking up to the Capital’s little poster boy. An alignment with him was sure to win Peter some favors, not to mention the bonus that there was no way a runt like that could ever turn on him. “What’s your name again?”

The kid gave him an odd look, slowly pointing up to his purple hair. “…Magenta.”

“Oh yeah, you’ve got the whole matchy-matchy thing.” Peter smiled. It was a tacky look, one Peter found particularly distasteful, but Magenta didn’t seem to0 fond of it either. “I’m Peter. Want to be Allies?”

“My mentor said not to make allies.” Magenta eyed his hand wearily.

“Well your mentor’s full of shit.” Peter shrugged. “I figure, you get us sponsors, and I’ll make sure you don’t die.”

“Until you stab me in the back.” Magenta muttered.

“Hey, come on, I’m serious.” Peter pressed on. “I’ll prove it by showing you my secrets. You ever thrown an axe before?”

“Uh…no.” Magenta admitted, looking over Peter’s shoulder at the axe station. “But the careers have a monopoly on that station. You can’t exactly go over there.”

“Sure I can.” Peter turned on his heel, ignoring the way Magenta sucked in a nervous breath.

Peter waltzed up, joining the boy from district 2, Nate if he remembered. Nate growled at him, but Peter didn’t back off. He knew despite Nate being taller and bigger he wouldn’t dare start a fight in the training room. No, the mess-making had to be saved for the training field.

“This station’s taken.” Nate informed him.

“Oh, is it?” Peter pretended to look surprised. He picked up an axe, hefting it in his hand. Being from the Lumber district, it felt familiar. “You don’t seem to be using it.”

“I was just warming up.” Nate huffed, reeling his arm back to throw. However, before the axe even left his hand there was a sharp thud of metal embedding itself in wood. Where Nate had been aiming Peter had lodged his axe, a perfect bullseye.

A clattering was heard behind him, likely that Prince boy dropping his sword in shock. Peter smirked, pleased to see the look on Nate’s face was just as satisfying as he had hoped. If Nate hadn’t wanted to tear him to shreds before, he definitely wanted to now.

“Too slow.” Peter teased, quickly waltzing away. He didn’t want to push his luck, now that he had accomplished his goal.

Peter made his way back over to Magenta, grinning at the way the kid was gaping like a fish. This time, when he stuck his hand out, all Magenta did was give it a good shake.

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“That boy made a fool of you.” Deceit observed, looking across the cafeteria on the second day. Nate gripped his silverware tighter, bending the metal.

“I’m aware.” Nate said through gritted teeth. The event was still fresh in his mind, having occurred just moments ago. “You don’t have to keep reminding me. The second we hit the field, his ass is mine.”

“What, are we claiming kills already?” Roman gazed around the lunchroom. Most of the other tributes sat alone, or in sad little clumps trying to form alliances as if that would save them from the career pack. “I call…12. And 9. Ooooh, no no no, 8.”

“As if you’re going to get to him before me.” Nate smirked, looking him up and down. “Poster Boy is mine. And I bet I get twice as many kills as you.”

Roman let out a princely noise of offense. “I’ll have you know, finesse is far more valuable than brute force.”

“Maybe for a ballerina, not for a victor.”

“Blasphemy!”

Deceit groaned, putting his head in his hands. He was surrounded by idiots.

There was a clattering next to them as someone put their tray down at their table. All three careers looked up, watching as the boy from district 3 sat down. He did not even acknowledge this was a strange occurrence, starting in on his lunch.

“…can we help you?” Roman said finally, leaning away from the non-career invading his privacy.

“Yes.” The tribute said, setting down his sandwich. He stuck out his hand, unperturbed at the way Roman grimaced at the offered appendage. “Logan Ward. Pleasure to be working with you.”

“Is this your way of trying to join the popular crowd?” Nate raised an eyebrow.

“Not trying, succeeding.” Logan said, once again ignoring the way Nate scoffed at his statement. “District 3 is among the wealthier districts and has not been unknown to participate in the career pack.”

“Is that why you volunteered- to get near me?” Roman teased, batting his eyelashes. “Sorry, but I’m not accepting secret admirers now.”

“That statement is ludicrous; how would I possibly know you were reaped when the reapings don’t go public until after they are all completed?” Logan frowned at Roman.

“Okay, can’t take a joke, noted.” Roman rolled his eyes, turning back to his own food.

“And why exactly should we accept you into our ranks?” Deceit leaned forwards, looking at Logan intently.

“I doubt you’ve received the same training it takes to get to our level of skill.” Nate pressed on, following Deceit’s lead and leaning in. Even Roman perked up, listening intently in a not subtle fashion.

“Disregarding the fact that preparation prior to the reaping is illegal, and the fact that there are numerous occasions where career training has proven to only work against tributes in actual competition, I assure you I am an asset.” Logan explained. “The games are a system of augmented reality. Every item that can be interacted with is, in one way or another, tied to the Capital’s grid, which I have been studying for the past several years.”

“Oh yeah, you’re from the nerd district.” Roman snickered.

“Yes.” Logan gave him a slight glare. “I’m from the ‘nerd’ district. Technology and electronics.”

“Every tribute from district 3 must have been doing the same thing.” Nate narrowed his gaze. “What makes you so special?”

“This.” Logan pulled what looked to be a modified teaching pad stolen from the training room. Before the careers could ask any questions, Logan was typing away at it. “Anyone who controls the grid, even the smallest chunk of it, controls the game.”

Suddenly, the cafeteria was plunged into darkness. A few screams were heard, the other cowardly tributes frightened by the change. Peacekeepers were shouting, trying to get the situation back under control. Nate couldn’t help but be impressed, thrilled by the single moment of chaos. He wasn’t the only one.

“Well, well, well.” Despite not being visible, it was obvious Deceit was grinning. “I think I speak for everyone when I say, welcome to the team.”

Two hands met in the darkness to give a firm shake.

#hunger games au #the sanders games #sanders games #hunger games #roman #nate #logan #deceit #thomas #elliot #peter #magenta #remy #emile #patton #virgil

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kenzieam · 5 years

Text

Mortal - Chapter Two

Rating: M (smut, language, angst and sorrow)

Genre: Drama/Angst

@captstefanbrandt @iammarylastar @kiiiimberlyriiiicker1995 @notimetoblog @captain-ariel-barnes @bitsandbobsandstuff @moonbeambucky @badassbaker @citylights221 @empress-of-boujee @shynara51 @diinofayce @casestudy-mw @jewels2876 @damnaged-princess @everythingisoverrated @allmyfanficfaves @clarabella960 @angryschnauzer @wowspideyholland @sergeantwhitewolf @smilexcaptainx @chook007 @laketaj24 @wish-i-was-a-mermaid @brujademente @shirukitsune @lostinspace33 @booksteaandarainyday @averyrogers83

If you want off/on this list, send me a DM

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***Slightly Non-Canon. Asgard hasn’t been destroyed, Thanos didn’t succeed with the snap….. I’ve taken a few liberties, my lovelies***

Word Count - 4.4K

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Her heart stuttered to a stop, and rage began boiling in her veins when she saw it was his dark brother, Loki, standing there instead.

“Where’s Thor?” Tony demanded suspiciously, taking a step forward. “Is he hurt?”

The air fairly crackled with tension.

“My brother is whole and healthy.” Loki replied, holding his hand up, palms out. “Forgive me the deception; I knew there would be no welcome if I was expected.”

He wasn’t wrong, and no one corrected him.

“Why are you here then?” Tony’s tone was no less demanding and, if anything, was even more suspicious than before.

The dark-haired prince sighed and, if he’d been anyone else, Remy could have believed that the look on his face was a mix of uncertainty and hesitation. “I wish to speak to Remy.” He replied, lifting his head to stand straight and tall.

All eyes turned to Remy, who stood there in complete shock. What? She swallowed, genuinely stunned. Why? You know what? I’m too sober for this shit. Remy whirled without answering and all but ran back inside. Voices yelled after her but the pounding of her heart and rush of blood in her ears kept her from deciphering them.

Remy rested in her quarters. Thankfully, Rora had slept through her mad dash and scrambled retreat, and Remy had laid her in her cradle before collapsing in the nearby rocking chair. What the actual fuck? Loki was here? After five years? To talk to her?? What the everlasting fuck for???

At their last encounter, the god had made it perfectly clear what he thought of Remy, and if Remy had spent the last half-decade thinking about him, that was her own fault, he’d certainly not troubled himself with thoughts of her... or had he? Because here he was and, if he hadn’t proven himself a cold, cruel trickster at every opportunity he’d been given before, Remy would have called him nervous and almost timid now.

Her musings were interrupted by a quiet knock on the door. “Remy?” A muffled voice.

“Who is it?”

“It’s Steve. I’m alone.”

“Okay.”

The door opened and Steve shut it silently behind him. For a long moment, he just gazed at Remy while she studied him back. He didn’t look hurt, there was no visible blood on him; if anything, he looked contemplative, thoughtful. At least some type of brawl hadn’t erupted after Remy’s retreat.

“What is he doing here?” Remy finally demanded, beginning to gnaw on her bottom lip.

Steve walked towards her and stopped, leaning over. Reaching out he gently gripped her chin and pulled her bottom lip free with his thumb then took a step back and sat on the edge of Remy’s bed. “You heard him, he wants to talk to you.”

“But why?”

Steve shrugged. “He won’t go into specifics, but he is adamant that you and him speak at some point. Tony wouldn’t budge so Loki summoned Thor too. Finally, we agreed to let Loki stay in the city for now.”

“For how long?”

“Tony’s given him four days, but he says he isn’t leaving until you talk to him.”

“I don’t owe him shit!” Remy snapped, cheeks flushing.

“You’re right, you don’t.” Steve agreed, nodding. “But I think you should anyway.”

Remy frowned, narrowing her eyes. “Why?”

He shrugged again, holding his hands out in defeat. “Remy, I love you with my whole heart; you’re my sister in every way that counts and I would give my life to protect you and Rora; I wouldn’t put you in danger, for anything. You know that, right?”

Remy nodded.

“I... I never thought I’d say this... I think Loki is serious this time. There’s just.... he’s not the same man I remember. Thor says he’s changed and I’m starting to wonder if he’s right. You don’t owe him but he’s going through a lot of trouble for this, whatever he wants to say to you is important, at least to him. I remember what you were like after he was here five years ago, you wouldn’t tell anyone what he said, but he hurt you; we could all see it. Maybe now you can have some type of closure, some way to settle it all in your mind.”

Remy pondered this; she remembered her friend’s and teammate’s descriptions of Loki from the past. Calculating and shrewd, he looked after himself first and foremost and when he made a gamble, it was only when the odds were in his favor. Remy agreeing to speak to him was anything but a sure thing; there was nothing stopping the Avengers from attacking Loki, imprisoning him or having his brother come and stop him. Thor’s powers since Odin’s passing and his narrow victory over his sister Hela had grown exponentially and sharpened to a razor point, making him truly all-powerful. He could easily exile Loki, restrain him; hell, even kill him if he had to. In short, there was no tactical advantage to Loki’s actions, there was no sure path to success; the god who preserved himself above all else was putting himself out there.

And for what? The chance to speak to her?

“Is he here still?”

“No.” Steve replied. “He’s taken a suite at the Four Seasons,” he rolled his eyes at the extravagance. “Thor’s all but sworn on his whole kingdom that Loki will behave.”

There it was again. She might not, okay... didn’t, trust Loki, but she did trust Thor. That he was willing to put his neck out like this was saying something and the fact that Steve thought it would help her was hard to ignore too. There was no way in hell Steve would ever willingly hurt Remy, that she knew without a doubt; he wouldn’t be suggesting she speak to Loki if he didn’t truly believe it would be beneficial in some way to her. Her eyes trailed to Rora, still sleeping; Steve followed her gaze.

“I don’t think you should take Rora though.” He added.

Remy was torn. Rora was still painfully young, still nursing, still one hundred percent dependent on Remy; the thought of leaving her daughter, even for a few hours, was reprehensible to the new mom, but Steve was right. At best, Remy’s attention would be split; at worst, Loki could attempt some sort of attack on Rora to force Remy into doing something for him. Remy nodded in agreement.

“Are you planning on going right away?” Steve asked.

Remy shook her head vehemently. “Fuck, no. I’m taking a few days to think about this first. If he’s serious about this, he’ll wait.”

“Language.” Steve chastised mildly, grinning widely when Remy sighed and flicked blue sparks at him.

Loki was watched closer than the President for the next few days. Tony had the entire hotel monitored and bugged, the top staff bribed, and the majority of his considerable resources pointed at only one thing; the man in the suite who never left.

Indeed, Loki seemed to have become a hermit. He took his meals in his rooms, he never ventured out, never so much as poked his aristocratic nose outside the door. Loki was many things, but he wasn’t a fool, and only a fool would have not known that their every move was being watched, but Loki’s behavior seemed to go beyond that. After two days, even Tony ventured that opinion. Loki knew he was being monitored, but he wasn’t concealing anything either; this isolationist behavior wasn’t an act, not anymore.

He had truly changed.

Tony grew tired of watching the live feed, there was only so much you could take of seeing a man reclining and reading, or walking the room and gazing out the windows. The times when Loki would sit and stare at nothing, or hold his head in his hands were times Tony turned away, it was too easy to see the grief and shame, and it was surprisingly hard to watch.

But the worst, by far, were the nightmares. Loki’s broken sleep was too close to Bucky and Levi’s own struggles to be anything but genuine. The way he’d awaken in the dark, lay panting and tangled amongst the sheets, almost whining like an animal low in his throat were unexpectedly distressing. The full extent of what his brother endured at the hands of Thanos and the Chitauri Thor either didn’t know, or wouldn’t reveal; but Loki’s desperate agony hinted at horrors and misery equal to or perhaps, frighteningly, even greater than what HYDRA was capable of.

When he had stopped screaming, stopped trembling but was still crying, rasping deep gasping breaths; Loki would pull a notebook into his lap and begin to write; it seemed to calm him. His drum-tight muscles would relax, his breathing slow; and Tony, the too-curious-for-his-own-good ass itched to learn what words soothed the traumatized man.

After three days, Remy decided she had waited long enough. Her family would not let her go unescorted, so while Pepper cared for Rora, the team followed Remy to the Four Seasons. Once there, they scattered, ready to react at a moment’s notice.

The only person that accompanied Remy right to Loki’s door was Wanda.

The gamut of emotions that crossed Loki’s face when he answered the door was almost comical. While he’d hoped Remy would come, he hadn’t bet the farm on it, and he was definitely surprised. He was unsurprised, however, to see Wanda with her. He knew of the Scarlet Witch’s abilities, knew what Remy would demand before she agreed to speak with him.

And why not? You are a monster in their eyes, you’ve done unspeakable things and even if they do eventually forgive you, it will take years.

“Remy.” He murmured, dropping his eyes like a timid lover. He nodded to Wanda and stepped back, gesturing for them to enter.

Cautiously, the women did and, for a moment, they just stared at the god, who shifted almost anxiously under their scrutiny.

“Thank you, Remy. For agreeing to speak with me.” He finally ventured.

“I haven’t agreed to anything yet.” Remy countered, feeling a surprising pang at his wince. “You know what Wanda can do; I won’t talk to you until you let her into your mind, until we know what your game is.”

The wince again, fainter this time. When he lifted his head, there was a miserable resignation. “Of course.” He whispered. “For how could you ever trust my word?” He nodded, glancing at Wanda. “Do what you must, Miss Maximoff. I apologize for what you are about to see.”

Wanda glanced at Remy before frowning at Loki, there was no threat to his words, only sorrow. Focusing on the black-haired man, Wanda reached out her senses and Loki flinched when they touched him. He flashed one last apologetic glance at the women before sighing in defeat and closing his eyes, letting Wanda in.

Almost instantly, the woman tensed and Remy reached out to grip her arm and steady her. Tension skittered across Wanda’s face and she bit back a gasp. In front of them, Loki stumbled, almost falling to his knees.

Remy felt it then. Being a pyrokinetic, she also harbored telepathic abilities to a far lesser degree; hardly enough to control anyone or read their thoughts, but the strength and intensity of Loki’s mind rushing through Wanda was nonetheless able to lick at her consciousness too.

There were no images, only pain. White hot agony, mind-numbing in its intensity. A voice begged to stop, a broken whisper, and Remy recognized the owner. Loki, nearly spent, nearly ready to give up. Then, like a blast of static, everything shifted. Remy likened it to Wanda flipping a large section of the book she was reading of Loki’s mind, skipping to a new chapter.

The immediate agony was gone, replaced with lingering, continuous, never-ending aching. The pain of a deep-bruise, a soul-deep wound that might never fully heal, but would remind you of its presence for the rest of your days. But now, there was more than that, there was warmth and maybe even hope.

A younger Remy, five years ago, quietly perched on a bench in the library, engrossed in her book, unaware that, across the room, the god of mischief drank her in like life-giving water.

Remy, smiling and laughing at the table, one of the few suppers Thor managed to drag Loki to; snorting and almost choking on her drink when Sam recounted how he had punk’d Bucky into believing the TV was possessed. The air around her seemed to glow, like an aura, and Remy wondered if that was how Loki truly saw her. But no one could lie to Wanda, not when she was mining the deepest recesses of their mind.

Loki stood now, eyes closed and hands fisted, shaking slightly under the strain. Remy had asked Wanda into her mind, once, and while the woman had been gentle, it had still staggered Remy to feel her there, sifting and turning her mind, laying the darkest pockets open and exposed. Wanda was pulling no such punches now, she was hitting Loki with as much as she dared, as much as a sentient mind could take without breaking. Partially because Wanda loved Remy like a sister, and wanted to be completely convinced that she would be safe with him; but also because it was no secret how powerful Loki was, how cunning and smart; if Wanda didn’t almost cripple him, he might be able to sidestep her, conceal his darkest thoughts in some way.

Loki knew this, and was still consenting but Remy felt a heart-rending pang deep in her chest when she saw a single tear trail down his cheek. Whether it was from the physical discomfort, or from the literal rape of his mind, Remy didn’t know; but she was suddenly overwhelmed by the urge to comfort him.

She turned to Wanda, ready to touch her arm and ask her to stop, when the older woman exhaled slowly and lifted her head, opening her eyes. For a moment, her gaze was unfocused, then it sharpened and filled with sympathy. She blinked a few times and looked to Remy, nodding slightly. Apart from them, Loki staggered once more as Wanda withdrew, reaching out to steady himself on a nearby chair. He was breathing heavily, almost panting, head lowered.

“Did you find what you needed?” He asked, his voice struggling to remain even.

“Yes,” Wanda answered, and then, surprisingly, “I’m sorry.” There was genuine empathy in her eyes now. “Excuse us a moment.” She clutched at Remy’s arm and pulled her from the room, shutting the door behind them.

“I don’t have much time,” Wanda began. “I need to purge all that before it has a chance to stick in my head, but I detect no deception from him about you. What he says is what he means.” Wanda exhaled shakily, reaching up to brush at a wayward tear. “It was like dipping into Bucky’s mind, or Levi’s or even yours. Unbelievable, crushing pain; uncertainty... one bright spot to focus on.” Her red-rimmed eyes met Remy’s and she gave a shaky smile.

Remy nodded, her heart thudding. She felt a vague shame now, for demanding Loki submit to this, for refusing to trust him; but it was understandable, at least to a point. Remy had no experience with the power-hungry Loki of old, but she did know the man that had crushed her heart five years ago, and was loathed to experience such a devastating rejection again. Surely what Loki had just endured was proof of his genuine feelings.

“Thank you, Wanda.” Remy replied quietly. Wanda nodded somberly. “I’ll be okay, I’d like to talk to him now.”

Wanda hesitated only for a moment, then turned away. Remy exhaled a slow breath; her team, her family were nearby, even in Loki did mean her harm (and Remy no longer believed he did), they would be able to intervene within minutes.

Remy was safe, at least from Loki; but was she safe from herself and her own feelings? She’d fallen for Loki five years ago, fallen hard and felt that pain still; could she trust herself to not self-destruct this time?

She turned and held up her fist, hesitating a heartbeat before knocking.

“Come in,” came Loki’s quiet answer. He was seated when Remy entered, but shot to his feet, stumbling slightly. Remy wasn’t sure what was worse, the drawn lines of pain on his face or the unsteadiness of his body. What had she just done to him? What was he reliving? What was he fighting back now?

“I’m sorry.” She whispered, her shame thick in her throat.

“It was necessary.” Came Loki’s murmured answer. “I have given no one reason to trust me before.” His eyes lifted to meet hers and he swallowed, looking, of all things, nervous. He swallowed again and gestured to a nearby table. “Would you like some wine?”

Remy shook her head. “I’d love some, but no thank you, I’m still nursing.”

“Of course. I forgot, please forgive me.” He was genuinely distressed. He cast about and Remy wondered if he’d ever been this clumsy and discombobulated around a woman before.

“Do you have tea?” Remy ventured.

“Yes!” He whirled and approached the bar, Remy following and when he turned again, she was slowly and shyly sitting on a stool across the bar from him and he smiled suddenly; an unguarded, surprised grin that made small wings flutter in her belly.

“I’m sorry, I should have remembered-”

Remy waved off his apology. “It’s alright.”

They fell silent, smiling nervously at each other before looking away again and again until the kettle boiled. Remy accepted her cup gratefully, standing and following Loki when he gestured to a pair of armchairs.

“Would you like to sit?” It was easy for Remy to remember that Loki had been raised a prince right now. His manners were impeccable, even if his complexion was still a little pallid.

Remy felt herself relaxing more, sitting with her feet curled underneath her and glancing around. “Nice suite.”

Loki followed her gaze and shrugged gently. “It is a gilded cell, while I waited with a quaking heart to see if you would speak with me.”

“What did you want to say?” You’ve gone through a fuck-ton of trouble for it, Remy thought with a pang.

Loki sighed quietly, staring into his tea while he collected himself. “I am sorry, Remy. So deeply sorry.” He glanced at her before dropping his eyes again. “I treated you abhorrently, trod cruelly on your emotions and, worst of all... lied to your face.”

Remy’s heart began to beat heavier, almost thumping in her chest. Was he about to say what she’d only allowed herself to imagine in her most grief-stricken, heart-rending fantasies?

“You were never just a child to me.” He continued. “And never foolish. I treasured your presence in the library, looked forward to it every day. My time with you is the brightest memory I have.”

“Then why? Why did you say that? Why did you walk away after you made me cry?”

Loki flinched again, a muscle jumping in his jaw. “Because I do not deserve you.”

What the hell? He’s a prince, he’s the one out of my league! Remy’s mind scoffed. “Loki, I don’t-”

“I have brought nothing but pain and unhappiness to the world, to the entire nine realms. My entire life has been wasted in jealousy and the quest for power. If there is anyone in the universe undeserving of a happy ending, it is me.” His voice cracked slightly. “I do not expect anything from you. I only hoped I could apologize, for out of everything I’ve done, hurting you was my most painful regret.”

“So... you don’t want me after all.” Remy murmured. She’d completely misread the situation, again.

“No!” Loki’s head shot up and his eyes blazed. “I want you more than anything I have ever desired in my life. You consume my every thought and dream. You are the siren song that has been calling to me since I first saw you five years ago; an eternity in my broken heart and mind. I want you... I need you; but I certainly don’t deserve you.” Loki exhaled, staring down at his hands, which he curled slowly into fists. “I see my brother, content, fortunate and beyond happy with his wife, their children; and for the first time in our shared lives... although I am jealous, although I covet the life he has now, I don’t want to take it from him, I just want my own as well.” He glanced away, to a corner of the floor, as if too ashamed to meet Remy’s eyes. “But instead of reaching out and embracing what was standing right in front of me, begging me to see her; I pushed you away, crushed your heart and left. It is unconscionable, and while I sit here baring my heart to you, it is with the knowledge that not only do I not deserve you, but I have destroyed any chance I ever had with you.”

Remy sat, stunned. She’d contemplated many scenarios, envisioned innumerable directions this encounter could go, for why was Loki going through such trouble to talk to her if what he wanted to say wasn’t earth-shattering in some way, but she’d never entertained this, the degree and depth of his shame and desire. She doubted he’d ever bared himself like this to anyone, not even to Thor and it frightened her to a degree. She was only a girl, a mortal human; Remy Mackenzie Jericho, a foster-home run-away and teenage delinquent until Tony Stark had taken a chance on her, bringing her into his circle and giving her an outlet for her demons. Loki spoke of not deserving her, but she was the one who didn’t deserve him. He was a god, an immortal being with magical powers, with a thousand years of life behind him, and while his past was inarguably cloudy, it was certainly epic. It was mind-blowing to her that he had been agonizing over their parting words five years ago, that he’d taken the pathetic whimpering and infatuation of a child to heart the way he had, had let it burrow so deep into his soul that it had given him no peace since.

And damn him, his words were dragging up thoughts and emotions Remy had thought she’d long ago discarded, or at least hidden so well she would never find them again. His words ‘I want you more than anything-’, ‘You are the siren song that has been calling to me since I first saw you-’ were echoes of her own heart. All the chaos and broken pieces inside her, that her unconventional family tamed but by no means fully conquered, had settled instantly when she’d first met Loki. The rightness she’d felt, that she’d convinced herself was simple fancy, simple delusion, was too great to dismiss.

But it was for naught.

They could not. He was a god and she was a human. He'd pushed her away once and she’d careened down a path that now ruled her life. She had a child, sired by a man who never lived to see his offspring, she was a mother; it was no longer just herself she had to worry about, had to protect and look out for. She had responsibilities, duties to her family, to her daughter, to herself and to the world she’d chosen to defend. There was no room for Loki there, no room for a god larger than life.

And, most damning of all; what was to stop him from breaking her all over again? What was five years to a man who’d lived a thousand? A breath, a blink, a fleeting fugue, a brief moment of madness, a momentary lapse of sanity. Strong emotions made you do things you’d never dream of doing were you in your right mind, Remy knew all too well; the flare of desire was just that, a flare, igniting hot and fast, but ultimately burning itself out.

If anyone knew the personality of fire, it was Remy.

She glanced up from her tangled thoughts and felt an agonizing jolt. Loki was watching her and, based on the sorrow in his eyes, her thoughts and fears had been transparent on her face, had screamed across the waiting silence between them.

Remy had witnessed Bucky at his low points, Levi at her most self-damaging; she’d faced herself in the mirror when all she’d wanted to do was watch the world burn, when her fingers twitched to throw the genesis sparks to trigger the inferno; and yet she’d never seen such devastation before. A thousand years of turmoil and unrest breeds a great well in the soul, and the misery and torment that can fill it is mind-numbing in its scope.

She’d never considered the well that lay inside Loki, and it stole her breath to see it now.

“I understand.” Loki murmured, more a tingle across her skin than actually heard and nodded his head. “Thank you for speaking with me.” He stood and strode to the door, seemed to hesitate a moment, as if to brace himself, then pulled it open and turned back to face her. “I won’t keep you any longer. Please inform Mr. Stark I will be leaving soon.”

Panic coursed through Remy; the same edgy nerviness she’d felt five years ago. For all her mind’s protests, her heart still cried for him, was willing to throw itself straight into the face of all the reasons she should turn and run instead.

‘You consume my every thought and dream.’

Remy couldn’t let him walk away again. The potential pain of giving herself over to him was certainly less than the agony of losing him a second time. She stood, trembling as she walked towards him. Loki looked away, down the hallway, intently focused on anything but her, blinking rapidly. When she reached him, Remy paused and, rather than stepping past, she moved hesitantly closer.

Loki inhaled sharply, turning his head to look down at her, disbelief and burgeoning hope in his eyes. His chest began to heave, he looked afraid to move, as if it would break the spell.

Remy pressed her body gently to his, turning her face into his throat and let out a ragged sob. Her arms reached around, clutching at his back.

Loki exhaled, a torn, tattered whimper of visceral, emotional release. Letting go of the door he pushed it shut then wrapped himself around Remy, clawing her closer, burying his face into her hair with an answering sob.

#loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki x oc #loki x remy #loki fic #loki of asgard #loki odinson

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orowit · 5 years

Text

LOVER EXPECTATIONS!!!

okAY the album lover comes out tonight and you can bet i am getting my ass to go get it to my local store... and because i am bored AF i thought i would do a rundown through my expectations of the songs that this magical masterpiece is going to have. i have managed to avoid spoilers (actually no, i almost read the lyrics of i forgot you existed, thank u genius!! lol) so this is just going to be laura shitposting. thanks!!! they are probs all wrong anyway and no one is going to read it

I Forgot You Existed: okaaaay this is such a sassy title!!! this gives me this is why we cant have nice things vibes and it seems perfect to send to an ex, or a friend that used to be the meanest but you did not want to seem lonely. perfect abum starter, hoping for state of grace like start...

Cruel Summer: idk but i feel like this is MY BOP, i have been having THE worst summer and i hope i can relate cause i am single af and this album is kinda caotic in the best way… // also the whole devils angels and summer knife sound like such cool concepts, i think that this is going to sound like 1989 vibes like i know places and out of the Woods lyrics and production

Lover: when this song first came out everyone was obsessed with it and i was very happy for tay because she found someone worthy BUT i did not love it so much??? i thought it was cute but it felt too soft in all my misery?? anyways i listened to it before sleep and it was just sooo good like so HEAVENLY and the bridge is soooo goood anyways i want a lover now with blue hearts around them (also like such a cute concept calling them lover aaah)

The Man: honestly the whole concept of everyone would love her if she was a man is the teaaaaa, FEARLESS LEADER ALPHA TYPE WHEN EVRYONE BELIEVES YA WHAT IT LIKE!!!! anywyas miss Swift feminist icon queen of bangers

The Archer: okay this is MY sad jam i have taken it for myself it has not cured my depression but it had made it a nice shelter for me lol i love it i am the archer and the prey. in all states, except physical, i am this song. perfect for when the insomnia hits i love her

I Think He Knows: yes tay you are in love we know it lol. feel like this song is gonna be yeah yeah i am in love with one (1) man and he knows i have writen multiple songs about it OOOR like my ex just found out what is going i am with someone and he just heartbroken duuude he just broken and HE KNOOOWS maybe sassy tay like snl monologue sassy I JUST LOVE SASSY SWIFT

Miss Americana And The Heartbreak Prince: this is THE best title, i love the length it almost tells a story i am too excited probs one of my favs. and also i can really relate to being the hertbreaker so i am VERY excited for this probs had i knew you were trouble vibes which i love im going go drow Stone cold hearts all around this song and arrows and bows and cupid references aaaaaaaaahhhhh best one

Paper Rings: idk about this song what all are these marriage references anyway im so tired and we are just by the half. hopefully a great one but tbh all of them are good

Cornelia Street: i love the fact that she is such a hopeless romantic to even remember the streeet lol such a mood i get the feeling!!! this seems like such a fun song!!! and also a if i ever lose you i Will die and write fifty poems about how this Street looks EDIT: apparently this is the Street of their apartment so yes i was right as always

Soon You’ll Get Better: apperently this is going to be country take me to your rodeo home boy country, i love that this seems to be dedicated to her mom, probably going to cry to this. we all hope you get better Andrea!! those are some good chicks

Death By A Thousand Cuts: here she is…. my overdramatic queen… its not a big of a deal honey… im just kidding plesase be dramatic plese keep writing i just need more exagerations of true looove probs gonna be sad probs gonna be reaaly good banger like i feel like this is gonna have a intense chorus

London Boy: okay mister London boy you and i need to talk are you avaliable next week, what happened, probs style production!! this seems like a song to listen to when you are on a date with this really cute boy in London and it starts raining and you are like oh no!! but he walks you to your door and covers you with their coat and kisses you in the middle on the rain and you have that beautiful memory to dwell on for years and years

False God: this gives me big god by florence and the maching vibes, all the songs with god on it are sooo powerfull hell yeah who wants a false god to go pls POWER SONG

You Need to Calm Down: GAY GAY gay masterpiece this song just called my bi ass off the closet and it has such a good representation on the video. also very happy and fun but Street rat fight kind of fun lol i love this song anyway go vote and vote well

Afterglow: is this about sex lmao? yeah go for it

ME!: it is true you are me and i am you and you are not going to find another one of me and you are algo not going to find a more happy beat that this one. and the collab with brendon urie LIKE!!!! also the video is just so colorful and cute and weird and happy and i want to live in one (1) fantasy world

It’s Nice To Have A Friend: hell yeah i want Friends but people cannot handle being nice so this is why we cant have nice things!!!

Daylight: this is going to be sooooft just like real soft also self written this is going to be poem like the poems from the rep magazines i just KNOW i am going to love this song. the poetry writer part of myself is shaking in her pastel pink boots

and that is all folks

@taylorswift hope you have the nicest day!!! you are heavenly and lovely and the sweetest! 💘💘💘

and also if you are excited comment or something about the track you are most excited about!! or the one you think i would like the most!!! 💗💗💗💗

happy lover night 💕💕💕

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tsuki-sennin · 6 years

Video

youtube

EarthBound – Episode 56: Darkness Falls Across the Land

Spoilers, I guess...

>I call bullshit! Didn’t that monkey from Talah Rama’s sangha say you couldn’t teleport inside rooms?!

>”(Including you)” Dad of the year right here. Looks like Pokey came in and stole the Phase Distorter. Zoom!

>Oh shit, “Zoom” is right! Ding!

>Makes sense. If you’re gonna build a time machine, at least use some Unobtainium. Boing!

>I bet Zexonyte can be made into an alloy lighter/stronger than titanium... because every comic book franchise has one of those. Zoom!

>Andonuts isn’t as smart as Marilyn Monroe or Walter White. Mr. Saturn confirmed for not over the top. Chattanooga!

>We’re going off... we’re going off! Ding!

>We come by! Zoom!

>Our last planned call for the Escargo Express. Boing!

>We rolling in this dough! Ding!

>Another Slime generator, which we don’t need. Ding!

>Dakota!

>Like... Dakota Fanning! Zoom!

>Chattanooga still totally should’ve been canon... Chattanooga!

>Not even the Sharks are wandering the streets of Onett!

>We can’t legally enter our legally bought house! That’s how bad the situation in Onett’s gotten!

>Mom’s scared. But she’s still cheeky enough to offer beeef in front of a foreign prince.

>Tracy’s room is the only one in the house that has its lights on.

>Come at us, Demons of Onett! Your master Giygas shall fall by our hands soon!

>Evil Eye! Mechanical Octobot! Ye shall be brought to destruction by our power!

>...well, I was wrong. Fustercluck indeed.

>The Ghost of Starman represent the lingering hatred of the Starman Supers you slaughtered in pursuit of the Sword of Kings.

>UGH... NO MORE 1/128 ITEMS JESUS THE GODDESS RIBBON IS THE EXACT OPPOSITE OF WORTH IT

>These guys don’t fuck around! Giygas is sending in the ultimate strike force!

>IN JAPAN... they called it Material XYZ because even they wanted Pokemon Z.

>Starman’s Ancestor... so Giygas controls the past, present, and future.

>BRAIN FOOD BUFFET!

>Hint Man believes in us.

>Let’s go kick some alien ass!

>SAVE NOW.

>Phase Distorter 2: XYZ Strikes Back!

>One thing we’ve forgotten to do. Probably the most important. Let’s call our Mom and let her know we love her.

>...even when scared, she gives us that support we so desperately need.

>Let us take the battle to the Lost Underworld, as Apple Kid says! With the Phase Distorter, obviously. Ding!

>Welcome, to the Cave of the Present. Our first encounter is with the Star Master, who bestows upon us a most helpful technique! Starstorm Omega!

>Mr. Saturn says that his kidnapper took off to the past.

>The Cliff That Time Forgot is empty. No sign of any life, docile or hostile, exists within our sight. Mr. Saturn is well and truly alone here.

>Phase Distorter 3: This Time, It’s Temporal

>Upload our brains into robots, eh? That’s a scary thought. Even so... this demon that has haunted every corner of the world in our adventure. From Eagleland to Foggyland to Chommo to Dalaam to the Deep Darkness... not to mention Lier X Aggerate, Mr. Carpainter and his acolytes, the people of Threed, the Mr. Saturns, Mr. Monotoli and all those affected by his actions, Everdred, the people of Summers and Scaraba and the Tenda... maybe even Pokey... they’ve all been influenced by this entity called Giygas. If it means giving up our bodies, then so be it! We shall take this monster head on! We will defeat him, for the sake of those whose lives have been turned upside down by this cruel alien warlord! Even the likes of the Mooks and the Starmen and the UFOs might not be truly loyal to Giygas’s sentiments of destruction! We humbly relinquish our physical bodies. For the sake of the universe and everything in it!

>I was terrified of the drill sounds as a kid. Obviously.

>Ness, Paula, Jeff, Poo... the Chosen Four have set their sights on Giygas! With the blessings and wishes of good fortune given to them by Dr. Andonuts, Ness’s now metallic hand throws the switch for the Phase Distorter 3! No wait... Jeff’s hand... no wait, it’s Ness’s hand again! No, hang on... yeah, you do it Jeff. Ness’s first instinct with machines that aren’t phones, ATMs and Instant Revitalizing Capsules is to shut ‘em off or SMAAAASH ‘em.

>Honestly, if I could choose the score for this scene, it’d be “Through the Sea of Time” from the Pokemon Mystery Dungeon Explorers games. It’d fit... SO FUCKING WELL.

>The Apple of Enlightenment’s prediction. Tomato! You have done well to transcribe this!

>Does Giygas feel some sense of Deja Vu? Perhaps we’ll find out another day.

#earthbound #chuggaaconroy

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tilltheendwilliwrite · 6 years

Text

A Canadian Girl Christmas*

Master List | Steve Rogers Master List

Summary: A return to the world of Canadian Girl at Christmas, when Steve and Kennedy are expecting their first child.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Kennedy Jones | Word Count: 13003 Warnings: NSFW, childbirth, swearing, I’m a big sappy dork who loved them too much not to go back and do an update.

“What the hell are you doing on that horse!?” Bucky barked, striding across the frozen, snow-covered ground toward the paddock.

From the back of Kyle, Doctor Kennedy Jones now Rogers, frowned at the glowering man. “What’s it look like I’m doing?”

“You are eight months pregnant! Get off that horse!” Bucky stomped toward both her and Kyle.

The big buckskin’s ears pricked forward, his attention focused, having more than once played a round of tag with both super soldiers.

Kennedy stroked his neck to keep him calm. “I’m perfectly fine, Bucky. Mom rode right to the end when she was pregnant with all of us.”

“Yeah, but she wasn’t carrying the son or daughter of Captain America. You know Steve will pitch a fit if he finds you out here.”

“Are you saying my brothers and I weren’t as precious?” she teased.

“The only precious one of that bunch is you. Now are you getting down, or do I have to get you down?”

“One last walk around the arena? I was almost finished cooling him off when you barked at me. You can walk with us and hover like a mother hen to make sure I don’t fall off.” Kennedy bit her lip, looking at him with pleading eyes, effectively cutting off his protests.

“Fine,” he sighed, placing a hand on her knee.

He was a big sap, and she knew it. Knew exactly how to get around both him and Steven. She didn’t do it often enough to make them suspicious, but riding wasn’t something she was willing to give up even eight months pregnant with their first child.

The last year had been a whirlwind of happy accidents and changes, the most significant one her marriage to Steven Grant Rogers, Captain America, and leader of the Avengers. It had been… amusing to say the least when, on Father’s day weekend, they had returned to the ranch to announce not only were they getting married, but they were having a baby.

Her mother had laughed and hugged them both while her dad had teared up something fierce. Her brothers had been full of it when they’d gone the whole you hurt our sister, we’ll hunt you down route. While Steven had looked suitably chastised, Kennedy had smacked them all around the ears.

The wedding had been planned with a speed which had made her head spin. Between Tony and her mother, Kennedy had been bombarded with texts, calls, and emails at all hours of the day. They’d decided to marry quickly, but still, Kennedy’s growing belly had appeared in the pictures taken in the high grass of the ranch’s sprawling fields beneath the August sky. Having few friends outside the team, Kennedy had asked if they could keep things small and have the outdoor wedding she’d imagined as a little girl.

More than willing to cater to her every whim, Steve had swiftly agreed, inviting only their immediate friends and family. It was all done so quickly, with such stealth, by the time the paparazzi found out, it was already over.

Still, the public clamoured for pictures, for information, for proof, and Tony gave it to them. A full magazine spread of the Captain and the Canadian came out in glossy publication, reminding Mary - her mother - of the one which had been produced when Princess Diana had married Prince Charles.

The proceeds from the sales, which had been many, all went to an assortment of charities. Everything from MS research, to scholarships, to shelters for abused women. The wealth was spread around, and the public was happy. Especially the Canadian public who insisted Steve be made an honorary Canadian, ending with the Prime Minister issuing Steve a Canadian passport.

Not that he needed one.

Everyone said Kennedy had looked radiant in her lacy white gown, flowing from an empire waist to help mask a little the life growing between Steve and herself, but the speculation ran rampant, and by the time she’d really started to show, the word was out.

It made it impossible for Kennedy to go anywhere without needing a full detail, or at least two super soldiers, one on each arm, to keep people away. Some were happy, calling out well wishes, while others were jealous, cruel, and called her a gold digger, trapping the Captain by getting pregnant. With those people, she usually had to hold Steve and Bucky back. One time she’d forgotten about Natasha standing behind her until the blood exploded from the man’s nose.

Luckily, the majority were happy and anxiously awaiting the new arrival, almost with more enthusiasm than her and Steve. Almost.

When they’d chosen not to find out the sex, preferring to keep it a surprise, the betting had begun in earnest. She didn’t tell Steven about the fifty she’d slipped Sam, placing her own bet on sex and delivery date.

Sam had looked at her suspiciously, stating if she won he was going to cry foul, but Kennedy had only smiled sweetly and made him a bowl of poutine. It was an effective distraction.

It wasn’t that she knew what would happen with their little super soldier bundle, but she had a hunch, a feeling, and had bet accordingly. Call it mother’s intuition, or just plain luck, she was pretty sure she knew just when the newest Avenger would make their appearance.

Returning her attention to Bucky as they made their way around the arena, Kennedy sighed and rubbed the heel of one hand over her low back.

“See! You need to get down!” Bucky’s hand was around Kyle’s reins, drawing the horse to a stop before Kennedy could protest.

“Buck, the riding is helping. My back hurts. It’s hurt for three months. It will hurt until this baby decides to make its appearance.”

He hummed in disbelief, eyes narrowed. “You got a whole month, doll. That baby doesn’t need to be making an appearance anytime soon.”

Kennedy gave Kyle a nudge with her heels. “The baby will arrive when the baby wants to.”

“Stop saying that!” Bucky huffed, his eyes very wide. “I’m not ready!”

She laughed and gave his shaggy hair a tug. “You don’t get a vote!”

“Steve’s not ready either!”

“Steven’s been ready since my Thanksgiving, and you know it.” Steven had, somewhere, found a shirt that said “Baby” with an arrow pointing straight down he loved when she wore. But every time she did, he would rush off and come back with the matching one which said simply “I helped.”

It was corny and just so adorable, Kennedy couldn’t help but laugh and hug him tight.

He was so excited. He’d read books and watched films. He’d taken to kneeling down so he could caress her belly and talk to the baby. She’d even woke up once in the night to find him singing softly to his overactive child.

That, more than anything, informed her she had a most special child. The baby kicked like a team of mules, and the only one who could get them to stop was Steven. His touch, his voice, sometimes just his presence in the room was enough to make the baby settle down.

As if thinking of him summoned him, a quintet flew overhead and landed on the far side of the house.

“You’re in shit now, doll face,” Bucky quipped.

“Am not." She pouted as Kyle made the final few steps to the gate.

Steve, appearing at a dead run through the snow around the corner of the house with the biggest scowl ever, said otherwise.

“What are you doing on that horse?”

She flinched beneath the sharpness of his words and bit her lower lip to keep it from quivering.

“Oh shit,” Bucky muttered. “No, no, no! No waterworks!”

She snuffled, but it was too late as the first hormone laced tear trickled down her cheek. “I was… only trying… to feel better,” she blubbered, hating herself for letting the emotions rule her. Tears were not something Kennedy enjoyed. They were like cheating when it came to these two, and she didn’t like that feeling. But, lately, especially when Steve was away for a while, she’d found it harder and harder to control them.

She heard Steve mumble, “Ah, shit,” but she was too busy trying to breathe back any more tears to pay attention.

“C’mere, doll face,” he said, reaching up to help her down. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

“I… know,” she gasped, appreciating the assistance when Bucky helped her swing her leg over the saddle horn so she could slide down into Steve’s waiting arms.

“But you scared me being up there on Kyle like that, big as you are.” His hand slipped beneath her coat to rub over her belly.

“Riding helps the backache.” She didn’t notice the glare he sent Bucky, nor the helpless shrug Bucky gave back when he led Kyle away.

“Yeah?” he sighed, holding her close. “Anything else maybe a little less dangerous help the backache?”

“Baths,” she said before her chin wobbled again. “But I can’t get out of the tub!”

He tilted her chin up, a small smile playing with his lips. “Well, I’ll have to make sure and be around whenever you need to get out. Guess it’s a good thing I don’t have to go anywhere for the next few months.”

“Really?” she whispered, shock stealing her voice. “You’re staying?”

“Sweetheart, I’m yours till that little bundle of ours decides to make an appearance, and for as much time as I can swing after. Not even a Chitauri invasion could drag me away.”

“Steven, I love you, but if aliens fall from the sky, I’ll kick your ass for jinxing us.” Kennedy motioned him closer so she could kiss him, no longer able to meet him halfway. “Your child has been overly demanding while you’ve been gone.”

“Causing a ruckus, are they?” He dropped to his knees, lifted her coat and kissed her swollen belly. “Hey in there. You being a brat for your mama?”

“Not much sleep these past few days.”

He glanced up at her and tugged her jacket back down. “I’m sorry, doll face. If it hadn’t been that thing with the UN, I’d a declined.”

“Steven,” she cupped his face, “I get it. It’s fine. I’m just glad you’re home in time for Christmas. Dad swears there’s a blizzard coming.”

“Yeah? He got a feeling?”

She snorted out a laugh. “Nope. He’s watched the weather channel for three days straight but claims he has a feeling!”

“Well, then, it’s a good thing I’m here to keep you warm if the snow does set in.”

Kennedy settled into his side when he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and led her toward the house. “Thank you for letting me come home for Christmas.” She and Bucky had made the trip a few days earlier while Steve had been away.

“You get whatever you want, Kennedy. That’s the deal.” He kissed the top of her head. “Except the riding,” he reiterated when she opened her mouth. “I will do whatever else it takes to help with the backache, so long as you stay off Kyle.”

“You and Bucky are both such worrisome old ladies,” she huffed, stomping snow from her boots as they walked into the kitchen. “Mom! Tell him I’m perfectly capable of riding while pregnant.”

“Steven, she’s perfectly capable of riding while pregnant,” Mary muttered, not bothering to turn around from where she was checking her roast.

“See?” Kennedy stuck her tongue out at him.

“But I really wish she wouldn’t,” Mary continued once she’d closed the oven door.

“MOM!” Kennedy gasped, feeling betrayed.

“What? I’m not allowed to worry about my grandbaby?” Mary quipped.

Kennedy huffed out a breath as she toed off her boots and shrugged out of the jacket Steve had unzipped. “Betrayal! I have been betrayed! How could you? My own mother!”

Mary pulled the dome off a cake platter. “I made coffee cake.”

Kennedy squealed. “You’re forgiven!” They’d forced her to cut back on coffee. Sugar. Poutine. Chips. Chocolate. They’d pretty much made her give up all the fun things, though Natasha was always up for sneaking her a sucker or an extra half cup of coffee when Kennedy was feeling particularly crabby. So, to be offered coffee cake, two of her favourite things combined, Kennedy was over the moon. “Do I have to share?”

“Kennedy!” Steve barked. “Yes, you have to share.”

She sat at the kitchen island and picked up a fork. “Don’t make me stab you with this, Rogers. My back aches. My feet hurt. Your child kicks like a mule. You took away ninety-five percent of my coffee, and I haven’t been sleeping well when the baby lets me sleep at all! I will do serious and permanent damage if you take this from me!”

He looked helplessly toward her mother who was trying her darnedest not to laugh in his face.

Mary cut a wide wedge out of the cake and set it on a plate which she slid in front of Kennedy. “Stop being so dramatic, Kenny. Eat your cake.” She motioned toward an adjacent stool. “Sit, Steven. I’ll cut you a slice and one for Bucky.”

Kennedy eyed her mother with disapproval but was ignored.

“You gonna stab me if I eat this?” Steven asked Kennedy, a smirk on his lips.

“Maybe…” she mumbled around a mouthful of coffee cake goodness.

Steve leaned closer, tucked his face in the crook of her neck, and kissed her softly before scraping his teeth and fuzzy beard, a fairly new addition to his face, over her pulse point. “What about now?”

“Eat the cake, Steven. Then I need a nap.” She looked at him pointedly, ignoring the snort and giggle from her mother.

The tips of Steve’s ears turned pink, but he dove into his own dessert without comment.

Minutes later Bucky came through the door, and the two of them started in on what he’d spoken on at the UN. Finished with her snack, Kennedy listened for a few minutes, but the exercise and just being pregnant in general had tuckered her out.

She slipped from the stool and away up the stairs, only making it as far as the first landing before Steve caught up.

“You could have stayed. I really do need that nap.” Her small innuendo might need to be put on hold until after.

“Let’s see. Sit and talk with Buck, or go upstairs and snuggle my wife. Hm… whatever should I do?”

“Har har, Rogers. Still not funny.”

He chortled, there was no other word for the sound which came from his mouth.

By the time Kennedy reached the second-floor landing, she was panting. “This… used to be… easier,” she gasped, standing at the top of the stairs and holding onto the railing.

“You used to be smaller,” Steve said, earning him a glare.

“Thank you, Captain Obvious.”

He rolled his eyes and swept her off her feet with just as much ease as always. “Then I won’t ask if you want a ride, I’ll just give you one.”

“Steven! I’m too big!” She smacked his shoulder. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

A snort of derision escaped him. “I once exploded out of a second story window and landed on a car after fighting off a horde of aliens. I’m not going to hurt myself by packing my beautiful, sexy, amazing wife and mother-to-be of my child fifty feet to our bed.”

“Beautiful and sexy? What are you up to, Steven?” She eyed him warily.

***

“Not a damn thing,” he said, kicking the door shut behind him and taking her to bed. It had been exchanged for a king some time ago, and the room redecorated in neutral colours. If it was a little woodsy for his tastes, Steve didn’t say anything. At least the posters of movie stars and boy bands were gone.

He laid her down gently before working her jeans off her legs. The light sweater she had on wouldn’t bother her, but the stiffer cotton would get uncomfortable even with its elastic waistband. Then she would fidget until she finally got up and took them off, after fifteen minutes of fighting with herself.

He shucked his too, liking the feeling of her bare skin against his, even if they were just napping together, and crawled onto the bed with her. The thick duvet folded at the foot would keep off the chill, and he tugged it over them both before he wrapped his arms around her.

“Mm,” she hummed, snuggling back into him. “I missed how warm you are.”

“I think you keep me around because I run hot.”

“That’s a definite plus,” she snickered, “but not the main reason.”

“What’s the main reason?” he asked, cradling her belly and soothing his child with his touch.

“You’re a prime piece of man candy, and Bucky took away all my sugar. Got to get my sweets in somehow.”

He snorted out a laugh. “Good to know.”

“And you’re a good kisser.”

“Am I?”

“Mm, the best,” she sighed, slipping into sleep.

Steve shook his head, kissed her hair, and dozed off grinning.

***

When she woke hours later, Steve had the bath running. He’d felt her stirring, the baby again growing restless and kicking even with his hand on her belly, and knew it wouldn’t be long before Kennedy was up.

He crawled in behind her a second time, brushing the hair from her neck to press gentle kisses to her nape.

She hummed softly, the sound one full of pleasure. “Mmm, Bucky. What will Steven say if he catches you?”

“I’d say the jerk better not be sleeping with my wife,” Steve chuckled, knowing she was only joking. “I’d hate to have to kick his ass days before Christmas. Santa might not bring me anything.”

Kennedy chuckled softly, her eyes opening to show him sparkling green emeralds. “Captain America on the Naughty list? The scandal! Not even Maria could spin that.”

“Cheeky dame,” Steve muttered, kissing smiling lips when she rolled over. “And here I went to all the trouble to run you a bath.”

“Really?” she gasped, eyes lighting up with excitement.

“Thought maybe I’d join you, but with all this lip? I don’t know, Doc. Maybe I’ll just go let the water out.”

“Steven!” She fisted her hands in his shirt. “Don’t you dare!”

He laughed but helped her up and off the bed when the girth of her belly made things difficult. Once on her feet, he peeled her sweater up over her head and admired his heavily pregnant wife.

“Don’t stare, Steven,” she sighed, blushing as she looked away.

“I have to stare, doll. You’re so damn beautiful.”

“And big as a hippo. My stretch marks now have stretch marks.”

Her hands went to her sides to cover said marks, but Steve caught her fingers and pulled them away. “Kennedy, sweetheart, they ain’t nothing to be upset about. You’re growing our child. Mine and yours. They ain’t marks of shame, they’re badges of honour. You’re a mama tiger earning her stripes.” Steve released her fingers to smooth his hands over her belly and dropped to his knees. He turned her gently back and forth so he could place tender kisses on the skin she disliked so much.

“Oh, Steven,” she whispered hoarsely, tears gathering on her lashes.

“Your body’s changing, baby, has been for months, but with every new stretch mark, with every new inch of belly, I find you more attractive than ever. You’re gorgeous, Kennedy, and nobody, not even you, is ever gonna make me think otherwise.”

She bent to rest her hands on his shoulders and kissed him softly. “You’re too good, Steven.”

“Just telling the truth, love.”

He placed a final kiss to her belly and got back to his feet to continue the removal of her clothing. The clasp of her bra came free with the flick of a single finger, something which made her giggle. She always found it amusing how quickly he could strip her when he wished and had teased him more than once that he need only look at her to pop the hooks on her bra.

Her breasts had been a handful before her pregnancy, but now they had swollen further, preparing to feed his child, and grown far more sensitive. When he cupped them, the weight always surprised him. Was it any wonder her back and neck grew tired?

She remained passive, standing for their combined pleasure as he removed her final garment. They’d learned so much of each other in the last year. She was everything he could have ever wanted in a wife, in a partner to share his life. The quiet, soft, relaxed nature of her fit him in ways he’d never imagined.

Coming home to her after a hard mission, or coming to the ranch when they needed to get away, had become his entire life. It was the calm he’d never known he needed. The normalcy he’d always wanted. And, though he’d learned more of ranch stock and rodeo than he’d ever wanted to, it was kind of nice to shed Captain America and become Steven, ranch hand and son-in-law to Jonas Jones.

Sure there were a host of Agents around, all still addressed him as Captain, but in this house, in this home, he was just Steven.

Kennedy had given him that.

Where once he’d been worried about giving her a home and a life like the one she’d had growing up, he’d never expected for her to turn around and provide that life for him instead. The ranch tucked away on acres of land in the middle of western Canada, had become a haven of peace to the entire team, and it was guarded like the treasure it was.

Had Kennedy’s family needed to adjust to being under guard whenever they left the ranch? Certainly, but it was one they’d all gotten used to. Doctor Kennedy Rogers was one of the greatest minds Stark Enterprises had ever know. Her research with the serum was advancing medicine in leaps and bounds, to the point where she’d been given her own team to help with development. The serum itself was a heavily guarded secret, but she’d made such strides in such a short amount of time, they were already beginning lab testing on her MS work.

He was unbelievably proud of her.

When her panties hit the floor, he paused long enough to sear the image of his wife in his mind.

Creamy skin dotted with freckles. Strawberry blonde hair hanging long down her back. She hadn’t bothered to cut it in a while and it had grown thick and shiny with her hormones. The roots had darkened, the new growth coming in a deep, rich red laced with gold. She’d muttered something about skunk stripe when it had first grown out, but there wasn’t anything she could do about it. Dying one’s hair while pregnant was, apparently, a no-no.

Her areolas had darkened and nipples grown larger, and her appetite for sex had increased exponentially. Not that they’d ever been stingy in that department, but she’d been insatiable for a few months, and he’d wound up on the end of teasing jabs from his teammates when he’d show up for training with less sleep than usual.

Steve didn’t care. It was all in good fun, and he was happy. Stupidly so. If someone had told him five years ago this was where his life was heading, he doubted he would have believed them.

“You’re staring again, Captain,” Kennedy murmured, her cheeks rosy with her blush.

“Can’t help it, Kennedy. I love you so damn much.”

“Steven,” she sighed, catching the hem of his shirt and shoving the tight fabric up his torso. “You know, if you wore the ranch shirts with the snaps, this would be so much easier,” she grumbled when the t-shirt stalled over his pecs.

He chuckled as he took over and ripped the shirt over his head, chucked it to a chair in the corner, and stood before her in only dark blue boxer briefs. “But those show off my muscles. I know you like that.”

“Mmm,” she hummed, sliding her hands over his chest and down his abdomen. “You’d be right about that. I had a weird dream the other night when you weren’t here.”

“Tell me?” he asked, taking her hand and leading her into the bathroom where the tub was full enough to turn off. A big corner tub with jets and a ledge she used for candles, vanilla scented ones he’d already lit, sat beneath a window which looked out at the mountains. All the windows in the house had been replaced with one way bulletproof glass after the HYDRA incident, so he had no qualms about standing before it with his naked wife.

He watched Kennedy’s brow arch when he shucked his shorts, her eyes drifting down to his half hard state as she twisted her hair up into a bun on the top of her head. Interest bloomed, but Steve only smirked and stepped into the tub where he held out his hands to assist her into the warm water.

She hissed softly, the heat stronger for her than him, but he wasn’t concerned. He knew very well how she liked her bath, and he would make sure she wasn’t in it long enough to spike her blood pressure.

“I’m not sure if I was hungry or horny,” she said, eyes on Steve as he sat down and got comfortable against the edge of the tub before joining him. She wiggled herself into the space he created between his thighs, knowing damn well it would rub her ass against his growing cock, and rested against his chest with a sigh.

Steve bit back a groan and grabbed the sponge sitting on the ledge. “And what were you doing in this dream, Doc?” he asked, beginning to drip water over her exposed cleavage.

“Trying to discover what tasted better when licked off your abs.”

His hand paused, and the water ran out of the sponge. “Huh?”

Kennedy snickered and caressed his bent knees, her nails dragging slightly on his thighs. “You heard me.”

He swallowed, hard. The visual had him going from half-mast to full-mast in seconds. “That’s, uh, interesting. What were you testing out?”

“The usual. Whip cream, chocolate, maple syrup.”

He growled at maple syrup. “I vote for that one. I know it tastes real damn good coming off your skin, Kennedy,” Steve crooned, nibbling on her earlobe.

“Then there was the weird. Ketchup, onion dip, pickle juice, and cheese whiz.”

Steve snorted out a laugh. “And? What was the verdict?”

“Pickles and chocolate. I woke up turned on and starving. Went downstairs and ate pickles dipped in chocolate pudding, which tastes better than it sounds,” she said when he made a grossed out noise, “and went back to bed, wishing my husband was around to handle my other issue.”

“No self-satisfaction for my Kennedy?” he teased, the sponge forgotten as he brought his hands up to cup her floating breasts. “You should have texted me.”

“It was three in the morning, Steven,” she sighed, melting into his touch.

“So? Wouldn’t be the first time we’ve gotten dirty on the phone, baby.” The memory of the first time she’d sexted him something naughty made him smile. He’d been away on a mission about the time her sex drive had kicked into high gear. He would never forget how she’d asked if he was busy, and when he’d said no, that he was back at the safe house and would be on his way home the next day, she’d sent him the most sinful, most enticing picture he’d ever gotten. The call had been going through within seconds, and he’d learned the joy of phone sex first hand.

She tilted her head back to look at him. “If I struggle to get my underwear on in the morning, Steven, just how do you think I’m supposed to get to that?”

“So, you’re saying I need to help you out with that, doll face?” He gently rolled her nipples, knowing how sensitive they were now.

“Your arms are longer,” she quipped, digging her nails into his thighs with a little more pressure.

“Turn the jets on, Kennedy,” he murmured against her ear.

When they rumbled into life, the water beating against his back, Steve let his hands drift down to her hips and lifted her higher against his chest, allowing him to free his straining cock from its confinement between them. He skimmed his fingers over her thigh and down to find her clit already swollen and hard, and circled it firmly.

She moaned and thrust against his fingers.

“Hook your legs over my knees, baby doll,” Steve commanded, his free hand returning to her sensitive breasts. He stretched his legs out as far as he could, the tub, though large, not quite long enough for him to fully fit, and continued to pet her gently as she did what he asked.

Her hands floated on the water now that they’d lost their grip on his thighs.

“Bring your hands up behind my neck,” he ordered, assisting on the one side, so she was stretched out over his body. “Gonna take care of you, baby. Gonna make you feel so damn good. Need to get you nice and turned on for me. Make you nice and slick.”

“God, Steven!” she gasped, when he delved deeper to make sure she was good and wet so as not to hurt her, the water doing more harm than good in this case.

He went back to stroking her, circling the jewel with quick, practiced fingers. “Need you close, sweetheart. Tell me when you’re close.” He didn’t technically need the verbal announcement, her face speaking out for her.

Her eyelids fluttered shut, lips parted, and cheeks flushed. She panted softly, moaned his name and rocked a little into his fingers.

“Tonight, love, if the mood strikes, I’ll happily let you lick whatever you want off my abs.”

“Fuck! Steven!” she barked.

His cock jumped, banging against his knuckles, and he took it in hand to notch it against her opening. Even with the water washing away some of her sweet slick, she would be fine. Her scorching wet sheath welcomed him, tight and throbbing with her building orgasm, and once he was seated as far as he could get in this position, Steve put part two of his plan into action.

A twist of his hips, and he lifted their combined leg over the edge of the tub, tipping Kennedy firmly into his chest and bringing their joined centers into the full stream of the pounding jet.

“Steven!” she shrieked.

He groaned in disbelief. “Fuck that’s intense!” he gasped, as the water rushed over his cock and tickled his balls while throbbing directly against Kennedy’s clit.

She thrashed against him, but he spread his legs wide, keeping her caught with his grip on her thigh and the arm he’d wrapped beneath her breasts. “Breathe, baby.”

“Can’t!” she gasped, tugging at his hair. “Oh, god! That’s so… oh, fuck,” she moaned.

He didn’t even need to move. There was no need to thrust, not when the pulsing water throbbed through his dick, and her rapidly tightening walls informed him how close she was to coming. “That’s so good, baby, so damn good. You gonna come for me?”

“Steven, please!”

He returned his fingers to her breast and plucked at her nipple, gave it a twist and set his lips beneath her ear to suck a mark under her tattoo. “Come on, Doc. You’re so close. You feel so fucking good, baby. Between you and the water, I ain’t gonna last. Need you to come, doll face so I can too. Missed you, sweetheart. Missed my sexy wife. Come for me, Kennedy, right now!” he growled, nipping the sensitive spot on her throat.

“Fuck!” she squealed, her body clamping down around his.

Steve swore a foul streak as the combination saw pleasure screaming from his balls to empty himself out in her clenching core. “Damn, doll… just… damn,” he sighed, turning them away from the jet, perfectly happy with his homecoming and still mostly hard inside her.

“Wow…” she breathed out, a shudder wracking her body. She pulsed around him, her walls contracting in short burst of renewed pleasure when she hit the button for the jets. “When did you come up with that, Rogers? Did you find a dirty magazine in your hotel while you were gone?” Kennedy teased.

“Har har, Kennedy. It’s just you, baby. You’ve got me thinking thoughts.”

She flexed her walls and chuckled when he moaned in her ear. “And what thoughts are you thinking right now, Captain?”

He gripped her hips and lifted her up just enough so he could rock up into her, finally dragging his cock through her tight walls. “That I ain’t done with you yet, woman.”

***

Relaxed, sated, and a complete prune, Kennedy smiled at Steve. He was knelt down, helping her with her socks. “You know, I will kind of miss this after the baby comes.”

“What?” he asked, rubbing the sole of her foot.

Her eyes shuttered in bliss. “Having you pamper me a little. I’m not much for the fussing, but I won’t ever say no to a foot rub and a bath.”

He chuckled softly and dug his thumbs in a little deeper. “Yeah? Feel good, baby?”

“Rogers… you could do that for four or five days, and I wouldn’t complain.”

“How’s the backache?” he asked, blue eyes assessing.

“Better, but your child is kicking me in the spleen.”

His attention immediately dropped to the left side of her body, his hands soon followed, slipping up beneath her sweater to run his warm palm over the shivering flesh their son or daughter was kicking. “Hey, baby,” he murmured, pushing her clothing up to press a tender kiss to her skin, his beard tickling a little. “Give mama a break will you?”

Almost instantly, the kicking stopped, and Kennedy sighed. “They seem to be getting stronger all the time.”

“Guess it’s a good thing you’ve only got a few weeks to go.” He placed another kiss on her belly and murmured softly to their baby, words she couldn’t quite make out.

“We should head downstairs. The kids have been anxious to decorate the big tree, but we’ve held them off so you could be here.”

“You didn’t have to do that, doll face,” Steve said, but his eyes glistened, and she tenderly cupped his face.

“Of course we did. You’re family, Steven. I wasn’t about to decorate the tree without you. Besides, Dad and Bucky have done a great job keeping the kids entertained. You’ll have to ask Bucky about land tobogganing.” She snickered softly and heaved herself off the edge of the bed.

“Land tobogganing?”

“Just ask. It will be worth it.” She grinned wide, continuing to chuckle as she made her way out of the room and down the stairs. Down was always easier than up, and she was only a little out of breath when they made the first floor.

The smells of Christmas baking were heavenly, and Kennedy’s mouth watered. “Cookies,” she sighed, making Steve laugh.

“C’mon. Let’s see if we can’t find the cookies, but just one, Kennedy.”

“Spoilsport.” She pouted. “Christmas is when you get to eat yourself sick on goodies. You’re all taking the fun right out of it.”

“We just want you healthy, love,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around her waist and tugging her back into his chest. His hands dropped to cradle her belly. “Both of you, but… maybe we can agree on two cookies.”

“Sold!” Kennedy laughed.

“Did you just play me, woman?” he asked, smirking down at her.

Kennedy smirked over her shoulder. “Got to get my kicks in somehow, Cap.”

“Tricky, doll. Very tricky.”

She pulled away to head down the hall toward the sounds of merriment coming from the living room. “Got you to agree to two cookies. Totally worth it.”

“There you two are!” Mary called out as Kennedy and Steve walked into the living room. “I was just going to send Jonas to find you.”

Eyeing all the boxes full of ornaments, Kennedy smiled. “It’s all good. I just really needed a rest.”

“And Steve just really needed a cuddle,” Bucky quipped, causing everyone to laugh and Steve’s ears to reddened.

“Why don’t you tell me about land tobogganing, pal?” Steve asked, causing everyone to laugh even harder.

“Oi! How was I to know you were supposed to lean into the turns?” Bucky barked.

Kennedy lowered herself to the armchair by the fire, her preferred seat, and eyed the tray of cookies hopefully.

“Winter Soldier took on a whole new meaning after we dug him out of the snowbank,” Matt teased.

“Wait, wait!” Steve said, holding up his hand. “What is it?”

Jonas snickered as he picked up the tray of goodies and brought it over to Kennedy. “You take about forty feet of rope, tie one end to a toboggan, the other to the bumper on the pickup, and head out across country. The kids get a thrill, no one has to climb the hill, and we all have fun. Let’s just say… Bucky miscalculated how hard the corner was going to be.”

“If you don’t lean,” Matt chuckled, smirking at Bucky who glowered at him, “you can come off the toboggan at a pretty good clip, and end up rolling through the pasture. Bucky just happened to roll off and end up head first in a snowdrift!”

“He was a grumpy white snowman when we finally dug him out!” Kennedy snickered, biting the head off a gingerbread man.

“Don’t tell me you were on that thing?” Steve looked at her shocked.

“She drove the damn truck,” Bucky grumbled, cheeks red with embarrassment.

“I have pictures.” Kennedy winked at Steve.

“You do not!” Bucky bellowed.

She snickered and took off the cookies arm. “Oh, you bet your ass I do. I should post them on Instagram.”

“Doll… don’t you dare,” Bucky threatened.

“The new definition of winter soldier. A snow-covered Bucky Barnes, looking like a deranged Yeti as he’s pulled, feet first, from a five-foot snow drift.”

“Kenny, don’t make me hurt you,” he warned, but it was a hollow threat.

She gave him a wink and a shrug. “Just remember what a sweet, kind, wonderful person I am next time you growl at me when I reach for the coffee pot.”

“Steeeve!” Bucky whined. “Your wife is being mean!”

The room burst out laughing again.

“Knowing you, jerk? You probably deserve it!” Steve snickered.

“Punk! Throw you on the toboggan and drag you around the pasture and see if you fare any better!”

“Alright, alright, children,” Mary stepped in. “Tonight is for carolling and tree trimming, not bickering.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said the two super soldiers in unison.

The stereo came on, the boxes were opened, and Kennedy sat back to watch as everyone got in on the action, hanging ornaments, tinsel, lights and garlands on the enormous blue spruce her dad had brought home a few days ago. Big and thick and lush, it was the nicest one she could remember seeing in years, and watching Steve and Bucky compete to see who could reach the highest branches while lifting her nieces and nephews up to help place ornaments, just turned her heart over.

She ate the second cookie and, when no one was looking, snuck a Nanaimo Bar off the tray.

“I saw that,” Jonas whispered, kissing the top of her head before sitting on the stool beside her. “How you doing, baby girl?”

“Good,” she sighed, her smile happy. “Real good now that Steven’s home.”

“That’s good, Kenny.” He took and squeezed her hand. “What a year, huh?”

“A whirlwind of a year.” She’d never been more content in her life. “How’s Aunt Joan and Uncle Daniel?”

“Got an email the other day. They’re having a great time, and Joan is really enjoying the heat in the Bahamas. I’ll miss her for Christmas, but… this trip was important to them.”

“I’m glad they got to go. After Danny and all… they needed to get away.”

It had been just over a year since that awful day when Hydra had come to the house, and Danny’s death had been made clear, but for Joan and Daniel, their son’s death had happened three weeks later when police officers had arrived to inform them of his passing. A tragic case of their son’s misdeeds finally catching up with him. It had put a damper on the season for her Aunt and Uncle, and this year, they had decided to get away, go somewhere warm, and do something different. Plus, with her Aunt’s progressive MS, they weren’t sure how many more years of motor function she would have which would allow her to take such a trip.

If Kennedy had anything to say about it, there would be many years to come, but her research and testing were still in the early stages. She wasn’t getting anyone’s hopes up, not just yet.

Leaning closer to her father, Kennedy whispered, “If I have one more, will you cover for me?”

He gave her a wink, surreptitiously plucked another square off the tray, a lemon bar with coconut topping, and handed it to her. “Always, Kenny.”

She popped it between her lips and darted a glance toward the tree. A flush instantly crawled across her cheeks as two sets of blue eyes stared at her. “Oops.”

“Whatever are we going to do with you?” Steve smirked and shook his head.

Bucky rolled his eyes, but if she wasn’t mistaken, they both looked relatively indulgent, though she doubted they’d let her get away with sneaking one more.

Still, she leaned over and kissed her father’s weathered cheek. “Thanks, dad,” she whispered.

“Anytime, little girl.” He grinned, getting up and taking the tray with him. “Anytime.”

Two days later, Kennedy sat before the fire in the living room, watching as Steve and Bucky and Sam argued about which hockey team would be making the run for the cup and why. It made her smile into her mug, the cup of hot chocolate brought to her courtesy of Natasha who’d arrived that morning from New York. The rest of the team looked on or interjected their own opinion, everyone gathering for the holiday, and Kennedy had never been happier.

This was family. All of them. From the Avengers to her own, the house was full of laughter and noise, just the way she liked it. Even Clint and his family had joined them, the children laughing and giggling with her nieces and nephews, though the baby was more inclined to simply laugh at everything, didn’t matter what.

Everyone was here, and her stupid hormones were about three seconds away from making her tear up, but it was the dull ache in her low back which finally had her shoving the colourful Christmas throw from her legs and pushing to her feet without finishing her drink.

“Kenny?” Natasha asked quietly, getting up with her. “You alright?”

All conversation in the room ended as she became the immediate focus of everyone’s attention. “I’m fine.” She waved them off and waddled away muttering, “Girl can’t even get up to pee without people fussing at her.”

Natasha snickered but dropped back down to the couch beside Sam, returning to the game of chess she was playing with Jesse.

Kennedy escaped to the kitchen where she paused to rest her hands on the island and take a deep breath. The dull ache in her back was a lot more persistent than it had been. When it passed a few breaths later, she pressed the heels of both hands into her back and continued toward the powder room a few steps away.

Through the small window in the bathroom, she watched the snow fall in a flurry of fat flakes, covering everything in a thick blanket of white. The blizzard the Weatherman and her father had been harping on about had finally arrived, closing in shortly after the quinjets had landed, and she could barely see the lights on the barn through the curtain of white.

When she returned to the kitchen, she glanced at the clock above the stove and smiled when Matt and Henry wandered in with Vision, and began getting on their winter gear. “Feeding time?”

“You know it!” Henry grinned.

“I will assist,” Vision said, his clothing rippling, turning into a thick winter coat while a toque appeared on his bald head. “The horses seem to like me.”

She kind of thought it was the other way around, but… wasn’t going to mention it. “That’s great, Vis. Have fun.”

They waved to her as they left, letting a blast of cold air and swirl of snow in as they exited. All the men had stopped allowing her to do things like feeding and mucking stalls, or get anywhere near the bulls the minute they’d found out she was pregnant. And, while it had been kind of nice to escape the chores, it was a little annoying to be treated like glass. Women had been having babies for thousands of years before her and had still packed water, hand washed laundry, and fed the livestock without reprieve. Why should she be any different?

Bucky had only glared at her and stated firmly, none of those women had been having the first ever super soldier baby. They had no idea how such a pregnancy would go, and none of them were taking any chances with her or the baby. She was told to plant her ass and deal.

She hated it when he was right. Smug, metal-armed menace.

When a ripple of pressure ran across her abdomen, Kennedy grunted in surprise. “Settle down, baby,” she murmured, rubbing a soothing circle over the spot.

The ripple came a second time, producing a tightening feel and a hardening of the muscles beneath her fingers. Kennedy’s eyes widened, but the feeling faded quickly, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

“Kennedy?” The quiet voice called out to her, and she smiled over her shoulder at Wanda.

“Just Braxton Hicks contractions, nothing to worry about.”

Wanda’s smile was as lovely as she was when she walked up and placed her hands lightly on Kennedy’s swollen belly. “The baby is restless.”

“He or she is better now that Steven’s back. I’m getting a few more hours of sleep at night before they are up jumping on my bladder.”

She giggled, Wanda’s entire being seeming to light up when she did so. “The babe is anxious to be born.”

“You can feel that?” Kennedy asked excitedly.

“Mm, da. Is good I put my name in early for the pool,” Wanda whispered, her smile sly. “But I do not know if I picked soon enough.”

“Guess we’ll find out,” Kennedy whispered, giving Wanda a wink. “I picked an early date, too.”

“Early date for what?”

Kennedy jolted at Steve’s voice and blushed at getting caught. “Nothing! Damn cat, where’s your bell?”

Wanda burst out laughing.

“Well, now I really want to know why you look so guilty,” Steve chuckled, striding across the room.

“Christmas is tomorrow, Steven. You’re not allowed to ask questions like that. Maybe Wanda and I were discussing your gift.”

“Were you?” he asked, eyes twinkling.

“No,” Kennedy muttered, “but we might have been, so keep your super soldier nose out of things.”

“Is not his nose which is problem!” Wanda laughed, giving Steve’s ear a tug.

Mary wandered in about that point and smiled. “Are you getting yourself in trouble for eavesdropping again, Steven?”

“It’s not my fault my hearing is enhanced!” he grumbled and pouted a little.

Kennedy reached up to cup his cheeks and pulled him down for a kiss. “It’s okay, Steven. I still love you, even if you’re as nosy as an old woman.”

“What is this? Pick on Steve day?” His pout grew, but his eyes twinkled.

“Poor baby.” Kennedy kissed him again.

“Kenny, stop teasing your husband and come help me with dinner. You too, Wanda if you’re willing.”

“Sure thing, mom.” Kennedy patted Steve’s cheeks and gave him a sly smile.

“What we making?” Tony asked, wandering into the kitchen. “I’ll help.”

“I was hoping you would, Anthony dear,” Mary smiled and tossed him an apron. “Steven, go occupy Natasha. I love her, but the girl could burn water, and you know she’ll want to help.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Steve chuckled, kissing the top of Kennedy’s head. “Plant your butt, doll face. I want you off your feet.”

She rolled her eyes, but Kennedy settled onto the stool Tony pulled out for her. “Fussy old women, the lot of you,” she grumbled, but there was no heat to the words, and she took the potatoes handed her to begin peeling.

***

“What’s wrong, doll?” Bucky asked Kennedy later that night.

She had a death grip on the fireplace mantel and was staring at the tree in the corner of the living room. “Huh? Oh, nothing,” she said, shaking her head.

“You don’t look like it’s nothing,” Bucky said, frowning as he moved closer.

This time, when the ripple washed across her abdomen, bring tightness and a dull ache with it Kennedy was unable to contain the gasp it forced from her lips.

“That ain’t nothing!” Bucky barked, leaping forward to take her by the arm when her legs shook. “Steve! Bruce!” he bellowed, causing Kennedy to flinch at the volume.

“What? What is it?” Steve shouted, running into the room. “Kennedy!”

“It’s okay. I’m okay,” she tried to wave them off, but the contraction hadn’t ended yet, and she didn’t dare let go of Bucky’s arm.

“What’s all the yell-” Bruce didn’t even finish the question, rushing across the room to place his hands on Kennedy’s stomach. “How long, Kennedy?”

“I don’t… know,” she gasped.

“Don’t give me that bull! You’re a doctor! How long have you been having contractions?” he snapped.

Kennedy flinched, withdrawing a little when his eyes flared green. “Since… before dinner. But I thought they were Braxton Hicks!” she said, cutting off the protests of the men. “Then I just thought it was indigestion until this last couple. It’s not like I’ve done this before!”

Steve moved up behind her, drawing her back into his embrace when her chin quivered. “It’s okay, doll. No one’s upset with you.”

“It’s too early,” Bucky murmured, his eyes a little wild. “This can’t happen yet.”

“I’m afraid you don’t get a say, Barnes,” Bruce quipped. “And from all the test and measurements we’ve taken, this baby is more than big enough to be born. Looks like super soldiers gestate faster than regular babies. Kennedy,” he looked up and gently held her hands. “What do you want to do? Have the baby here, or go to the hospital?”

“Can you even fly in this?” she asked, referring to the blizzard still blowing outside.

“I could,” Clint answered from the doorway. “But it would be rough as hell.”

“And here?” she asked Bruce.

“From everything I’ve seen, you’ll be fine for a home birth. The baby is in the proper position, your vitals are all good. Helen and I have talked about it. It wouldn’t be any different than what we were going to do with you at the Tower. I have everything I need in the jet.”

“Really?” she asked, gazing at Bruce in surprise.

“Yeah,” he smiled softly. “I had a feeling and figured we should be prepared.”

“How dangerous is this, Bruce?” Steve asked, and Kennedy could feel the tightness of his body.

“It’s as dangerous as any childbirth, Steve, but I will take all the precautions I can. Kennedy is healthy, so is the baby, and I don’t foresee any problems doing this here. Plus, it’s private, and if we need it, the base has a med center I can use.”

The last thing she wanted was news of this getting out, and going to the hospital would make that a guarantee. People clamouring for there attention shortly after the baby was born... the idea of it was off-putting, to say the least.

When the next contraction rolled across Kennedy’s stomach, she made her decision without hesitation. “Here! We’re doing this here!”

The commotion had drawn the rest of their friends and family to the living room, but it was Mary who became all business and went instantly to work. “Bruce, we’ll set up the recovery room as a birthing suite. Nat, Wanda, and May with me. Laura and Susan, help Kennedy upstairs and get her changed.”

“What about us?” Bucky and Sam asked, though all the men looked anxious.

“Help Bruce if he needs it and get the room ready. Then keep the children occupied and out from under foot,” Mary ordered like a drill sergeant.

If she hadn’t been trying to breathe through a contraction, it would have made Kennedy laugh to see them all jump to her mother’s beat.

Steve picked her up and held her tightly to him. “This is it, doll. We’re gonna meet our baby.”

She smiled as the pain subsided and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Let’s do this, Cap.”

***

“I can’t do this!” Kennedy wailed hours later.

“Yes you can, love,” Steve encouraged, holding her up as another contraction nearly took her legs out from under her. She’d been in labour for five hours, and they’d changed positions a few times.

The recovery suite was a spacious room Shield had rehabbed for agents who’d been injured and needed extra care. The bed was adjustable. The bathroom had both a big, walk-in shower. There were outlets to plug in all Bruce’s equipment as well as extra linens and medical supplies should they be needed. It wasn’t a medical bay by any means, but it fit the bill for a birthing suite now that Mary had worked her magic.

Rugs had been rolled back, leaving the floors bare for easy cleaning. The bed had been stripped and padded with extra sheets and towels for the same reason. Space had been made so Kennedy could walk when she wanted. Towels and extra nightclothes left in the bathroom should she wish to stand in the shower.

Steve had long ago stripped down to a pair of shorts, determined to go through every step of her ordeal with her. When she wanted to stand in the water and let it beat on the small of her back, he went with her. If she needed to stand and rock, he made sure to sway along. If she needed to sit, he held her close and rubbed her back.

When her water had broken about an hour ago, and the pain had gone from her breathing through it to her trying to break off his hand as she lost all ability to speak, he’d had an intense moment of guilt and discovered all new respect for his own mother. When he’d been born, it was still in the age when the father sat outside in the waiting room and passed out cigars, smugly proud of their prowess.

Kennedy had told him in no uncertain terms he would be in the delivery room. He would be present for their child’s birth. If for some reason he wasn’t, the world had better damn well be ending or she was going to take a strip out of his hide.

But he’d had no idea this was what women went through. Okay, he’d had some idea. He wasn’t an idiot, but while he’d known it would hurt he hadn’t known it would hurt like this!

“No, I really can’t, Steven!” She shook all over, her braid dampening the back of her nightshirt. The girls had tied her hair back, helped her out of her clothes and into a big cotton t-shirt. She had a few, liking them to sleep in when it was cold out, or he was away. This one had Eeyore on the front wearing a Santa hat. It was ridiculous and adorable and just so Kennedy.

“Yeah, baby. I know you can. You’re my sweet Kennedy, my amazing Canadian girl. We can do this, love.”

“Rogers, what’s with this we shit?” she snarled.

He didn’t take offence, knowing she wasn’t wrong. “You know I’d take the pain if I could, Kennedy.”

Anger turned to tears, and she sobbed into his chest. “It hurts, Steven,” she whispered, clutching at him.

He looked to Bruce as he came through the door. “I know, baby, but we tried the drugs, and they didn’t work. Our little super soldier is doing some unexpected things, sweetheart.”

“Want them out,” she pouted. “I’m so tired.”

“Hey, Kennedy. Let’s have a look, okay? Maybe we can grant that wish,” Bruce offered, motioning Steve to bring her back to the bed.

He helped her across the floor and up on the bed. She’d long ago stopped blushing every time Bruce got his hands on her. They’d planned for Helen to do the delivery, but Bruce had been with them every step as well, and though Kennedy had wanted a woman down there, it didn’t seem to matter anymore that Bruce was, as she’d put it, all up in her lady bits.

“Looks like you get your wish, Kenny. Time to push this baby out.” Bruce glanced to Steve.

He helped Kennedy sit up and braced behind her, holding her hands, so she had something to bear down against. “C’mon, sweetheart. You’ve got this.”

“Steven…” she moaned her head on his shoulder. Sweat coated her face and curled her hair, but he still thought she was so damn beautiful. “I can’t.”

Before he could encourage her, Bruce spoke up.

“Kennedy, I know you’re tired, but nobody else can do this for you. The baby’s got to come out. Drugs aren’t working so we can’t give you a cesarean even if you wanted one. You have to birth this baby. So push, goddammit!”

That seemed to be all the fire she needed.

The next twenty minutes went by in a haze of blood, sweat and tears, unlike anything Steve had ever witnessed. It was a struggle for life. A battle waged between a woman and her body, and no matter how he held her, encouraged her, fought with her, it was all Kennedy’s doing when the slick, bloody head of their baby finally emerged.

“Good!” Bruce shouted. “One more, Kennedy! You’ve got this!”

She screamed the most primal sound Steve had ever heard and sent their baby sliding into the hands of Bruce.

“Look. Oh wow, look, Kennedy,” Steve breathed in awe as Bruce laid the baby on the towel in his lap and added clips to the umbilical cord. “Look what you did. That’s our baby.”

“A healthy baby boy. Ten fingers, ten toes, and utterly perfect,” Bruce said, grinning up at them. “Hardest secret I’ve ever kept.” He lifted the bundle up and placed their son in Kennedy’s lap. “Here, Cap.” Bruce held up a pair of scissors. “Cut the cord, right here.”

His hand shook as he took the scissors from Bruce and worked his way through the cord, severing his child from his mother. No sooner was it done, then the boy sucked in a lung full of air and gave a hearty wail.

Kennedy inhaled just as hard but sobbed out a laugh. “Look at him. Oh, god, Steven… he’s perfect.”

Time seemed to stand still, and though he was aware of Bruce doing things, Steve was utterly enraptured by the baby. His little mouth opened and closed, sucking but no longer crying, taking comfort in the arms of his mother. Small fists waved. Little feet kicked.

“Okay, mom and dad.” Bruce smiled. “Everything looks good. Let me have him back, and I’ll go clean him up.”

“Oh, but…” Kennedy clutched him closer.

“He needs a bath and a once over, Kenny, and I’m sure you wouldn’t mind a rinse yourself.” He looked pointedly to Steve.

“It will be okay, Kennedy. Let’s get you cleaned up, and then Bruce will be right back.” Steve kissed her cheek and nodded to Bruce to take the baby, even though his heart also clenched at the loss.

Once Bruce headed for the tub of water he’d already filled and had waiting, Steve scooped Kennedy up and took her to the bathroom.

It wasn’t until he was standing in the shower with her, watching the water run red down the drain that he started to shake.

“Steven?” She frowned up at him, her eyes exhausted.

“That was… the single greatest thing I have ever seen,” he whispered, resting his forehead on hers. “You’re amazing, Kennedy. Astounding. You gave me a son. You did that.”

“You did kind of help, just a little,” she teased.

A smile twitched his lips. “I love you, Kennedy Marie Rogers. God, how I love you.” He pressed the lightest of kiss to her parted lips.

“Steven,” she sighed, leaning into him. “I love you, too, but I’m tired, and I want my baby.”

“Okay, doll.”

He helped her dry and dress and carried her back into the bedroom. Bruce was waiting, holding their son, his eyes bright. “Looks just like you, Cap.”

Sure enough, with the birth washed off his son’s cap of bright blond hair shone beneath the overhead lights.

“Here, Kennedy.” Bruce transferred the baby back to her arms. “You should go upstairs, be comfortable in your own bed. I’ll come check on you in a bit.”

She grabbed his hand before he could turn away and with teary eyes whispered hoarsely, “Thank you, Bruce. Thank you.”

His smile was soft, and his eyes were also wet when Bruce nodded. “Congratulations to the both of you. He’s beautiful.”

***

Steve fussed as he settled her into their bed, placing pillows and propping her up until Kennedy finally grabbed his hand and tugged him down beside her. “Just stop, Steven. Everything is fine.”

Swaddled, their son was resting on her lap, a hat and blanket in blue keeping him warm. Bruce really had come prepared.

“He’s beautiful, Kennedy.” The awe lacing Steve’s voice made her smile.

“With you for a father? How could he not be?” she asked.

“I think it’s with you for a mother,” he quipped, kissing her cheek and snuggling close.

The baby fussed a little, grunting and rooting, and Kennedy smiled, thankful she’d changed out of her nightshirt into one of Steve’s plaid button ups. The tingling in her breasts wasn’t painful, but it was a new sensation. When he fussed a second time, she reached for the buttons, seeming to just know what to do.

His little mouth latched on, and she gasped at the sensation when he began to suckle.

“Baby?” Steve asked, bringing his hand up to cover hers on the back of their son’s head.

“Feels… different, but good different.”

Steve relaxed, a smile playing on his lips as he watched their son enjoy his first meal. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.”

She turned her head to look at him and smiled. “Me either.”

“God I love you, Kennedy.”

“You’ve said that a few times today, Rogers,” she teased.

“I mean it every time.” His hand came up to cup her chin.

“I know you do.” She kissed him then, gentle and soft.

A quiet knock on the door broke them apart.

“Yeah?” Steve called.

“It’s Bruce and Mary.”

“Come in,” Kennedy called out, fresh tears gathering when her mother burst through the door to hurry toward the bed.

“Oh, oh, Kenny!” Mary cried, sitting next to her. “He’s beautiful!”

“And greedy,” Kennedy chuckled.

“What’s his name?” Mary asked, darting a glance toward Steve.

When Kennedy glanced his direction, she noted the sharp way Steve watched everyone in the room and should have known he’d turn all papa bear as soon as the baby was born. “We’re going to wait and tell everyone together.”

“I sent everyone else off to bed, but I just had to stay up to see him. You realize you’ve had a Christmas baby,” Mary said, wiping at her tears. “It’s three in the morning, December twenty-fifth.”

“Huh…” Kennedy smiled, finding it kind of fitting. A Christmas baby for the man whose birthday was the Fourth of July. Then she snickered. “I win.”

“Win what?” Steve asked.

“The baby pool,” Bruce grumbled, lifting his hands from where he’d been checking Kennedy’s stomach. “Dammit! I knew I should have picked an earlier date.”

“What you have?” asked Mary. “I had January second.”

“Mom!” Kennedy laughed.

“Well, you had Christmas!” Mary huffed.

“The twenty-ninth,” Bruce sighed. “Was why I brought all the equipment with me.”

“You were all betting on when the baby would be born?” Steve gasped, staring at Kennedy in horror.

“Hey! I won… I don’t even know how much. What was the pot up to?” Kennedy asked Bruce.

“I’d have to check with Tony. Last I heard it was six-hundred.”

“Jeez! Dollface!” Steve dragged his hand down his face.

“Oh, lighten up!” Kennedy teased. “I made six-hundred bucks!”

Steve shook his head, but his eyes shone with amusement.

“Alright, well, we’ll leave you three to get some rest, and everyone can meet the newest member of the family tomorrow,” Mary said, leaning in to kiss Kennedy’s forehead, then rising to lean over and kiss Steve’s cheek. “Congratulations you two.”

“Thanks, mom,” Kennedy whispered, voice choked.

“Mary. Bruce.” Steve nodded.

“Oh! I almost forgot!” Mary darted into the hall and came back with a bassinet. “May made Jesse go get it!” she snickered.

Kennedy giggled. “How badly did he grouch?”

“Only a little. How could he say no?” Mary laughed and left the room, Bruce shutting the door behind them.

A grunt and fuss had her switching her son to the other breast. “You are greedy,” she snickered, brushing his cheek.

“Going to be a big boy,” Steve murmured.

“Like his daddy.” She was fairly certain she’d heard Bruce say he’d been pushing nine pounds and was a good twenty-one inches long, but she’d have to ask tomorrow to be sure.

A tired yawn had her eyes drooping as Steve slipped from the bed to gather the bassinet and strip down to his underwear.

“Hey,” she called softly, causing him to look at her. “Dig in the bottom of my bag.”

“What am I looking for?” Steve asked, crouching down beside it.

“You’ll know when you find it.”

He arched a brow her way but continued to rifle until his hand came to a sudden stop. “Baby,” he sighed, a smile breaking out as he pulled the blue onesie Bucky had gotten for the baby back at Father’s day from her bag.

“I had a feeling.”

“And you didn’t share?” he half scolded.

“I didn’t want you to worry. Grab a hand towel.”

He set the little outfit down on the dresser and reached into the bathroom for the one hanging over the sink. “I’d never have gone to the UN thing if I’d known. What if I’d missed it?”

“Steven,” she looked at him pointedly, “I get it. You can’t always put us first. You have a very important job, but don’t go borrowing trouble! You were here, everything is good, and in a few hours, we can do Christmas with our very best gift ever. Nothing’s topping this!” she chuckled, taking the towel and draping it over her shoulder as she lifted the baby to it and began to pat his back.

The belch which came from his small body made her snicker. She scooted over gingerly, patting the bed for the bassinet and laying their baby down in it. Steve crawled back into bed, spooning up close behind her and scattering pillows out of the way. His arm draped over her, the heat of his body soothing against her back, and lightly rested his hand on their son. “Thank you, Kennedy,” he whispered against her shoulder.

“You’re welcome, Steven, but we did this together. He’s our son. Now, go to sleep.”

He was almost asleep when she giggled softly. “What?” Steve asked.

“You do realize, Captain America’s son… is Canadian.”

“So? So am I,” he chuckled. “Go to sleep, woman.”

She snickered softly and was asleep within seconds.

***

The baby woke them a few hours later, hungry and wet. Thankfully, Bruce’s preparedness included such things as diapers and other items, such as clothes and blankets, were available to borrow from Susan and May. In fact, a care basket had been left outside the door at some point in the night and caused Kennedy to tear up at her family’s thoughtfulness.

Still, his first outfit was the onesie Bucky had purchased, and the blanket Kennedy wrapped him in had once been her own.

Steve had forgone any arguments once she was dressed, simply handing her the baby and sweeping her off her feet to take his family down the stairs and sit them in the chair by the fire. It was early enough only a few people were stirring. Mary and Jonas were up, along with Matt, Jesse, Vision and Henry, the boys already outside caring for the livestock.

Jonas instantly commandeered the baby, sneakily offering Kennedy a cinnamon bun in trade. She ate it, watching her father like a hawk as he cooed and cuddled the baby.

Steve slipped into the kitchen and mixed her a mocha, his wife’s exhaustion still evident, and returned with a cup of coffee for himself. She’d looked at him in surprise, but he’d only given her a wink. It was Christmas morning after all. He wasn’t going to begrudge her a cup of coffee after all she’d gone through the night before.

When Bucky arrived at a quick march a few minutes later, Steve had only just gotten the baby away from Jonas, but when the look of utter longing had descended, he walked straight to Bucky and held out his son.

“Steve… I…” Bucky shook his head.

“How are you ever going to be my son’s godfather if you won’t even hold him?”

“What?” Bucky gasped, looking toward Kennedy.

She patted the arm of the sofa next to her. “Come sit, Bucky. Then, hold your godchild.”

His mouth hung open, but Bucky came and sat, and looked at Steve with eyes full of wonder when he placed their son in the cradle of his flesh arm.

“Oh… wow…” Bucky whispered. “He’s so small.”

“That’s not what I thought when he was being born,” Kennedy grumbled into her mug, but her eyes twinkled like stars.

“How you doing, doll face?” Bucky asked, looking at her with concern.

“I’m fine, Bucky. Everything went as planned.”

He reached out and took her hand. “That’s good, Kenny. Real good.” He let her go and grinned sappily at Steve. “Looks like you, punk.”

“I would hope so,” Steve chuckled, sitting on the coffee table in front of Bucky. He had to reach out and touch his son, stroke his finger over the boy’s cheek, so completely enamoured he couldn’t help himself and lightly caressed his fuzzy little head. The touch made him squeak, grunt, and squirm, and Bucky jumped.

“Stop that!” He glared at Steve.

Steve snickered. “Babies wiggle, pal. Get used to it.”

“Give me the baby, and no one dies!” Natasha squealed, darting in the door and causing Kennedy to laugh when she dropped down beside Bucky. “Hand him over, Barnes!”

“No! He’s my godchild!”

“What!” Nat gasped, turning on Kennedy. “How could you?”

“He can have two, Natasha,” Steve laughed, batting Bucky’s hand away when he reached out and took his son back to hand him to Natasha.

“And besides, you’re a godmother three times over!” Clint huffed, wandering in with Laura who immediately went to snuggle up beside Nat and coo over the baby. “What are my kids, chopped liver?”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Clint,” Laura huffed. “Look at this pretty baby.”

“We are not having another,” Clint grumbled, but Steve watched his face smooth into lines of want when he perched on the arm of the sofa beside his wife.

After that, the influx went from a trickle to a river until the noise escalated and the kids were about ready to tear down the tree if they couldn’t get into the presents, all chattering on about Santa and stockings, and please! Just one gift before breakfast? Until Mary came in and cleared her throat.

“As we are now all gathered, might we please know the name of our newest grandbaby?”

Steve smiled as he took his son back from Wanda and Vision, both Sam and Tony grumbling about missing their turn, and went to deliver him back to Kennedy. “We’ve thought about this a lot. Talked about it even more, and hope you all like what we’ve chosen as much as we do.”

“We wanted to use names that were important to both sides of the family,” Kennedy said, smiling up at Steve.

“So, in honour of Mary’s dad and two of our best friends,” Steve felt himself choke up and fought it back, “meet James Edward Rogers.”

“Oh… oh, Kennedy!” Mary gasped, tears pouring down her cheeks.

“Steve…” Bucky whispered, his eyes watering as well.

“Dammit, Kenny!” Tony huffed, wiping at his face. He stalked forward to slouch down on the stool beside her. “You had to go and do something like that, didn’t ya?”

She reached out and grasped his hand. “Who’d a thought it, huh?”

“Least you can do is let me hold my namesake,” he grumbled, and she handed him the baby.

Steve settled onto the arm of her chair as he watched the man who Kennedy had once feared more than nearly anyone else in the world cradled his son to his chest while tears tracked Tony’s cheeks.

Over the last months, Tony had become a huge part of their world, as he was to the entire team, but he and Kennedy had developed a unique kind of bond. It had been stunted and awkward at first, but Tony was hard to resist when he wanted to be charming, and Kennedy was brilliant enough to keep up with him when he yammered on about things Steve had little understanding of.

They’d bonded over biology, and when the three of them - Kennedy, Bruce, and Tony - ended up in a room together, the rest of them had a tendency to vanish as conversations delved into molecular biology and chemical engineering.

When Kennedy had brought up the idea of Edward as a middle name, Steve had jumped on board. What better way to show Tony how much they cared?

“So Barnes gets a name and godparent status!” Nat huffed, but she couldn’t quite hide her smile. “How rude.”

“Guess that means you don’t want to be godmother?”

“Bite your tongue, Rogers!” Natasha barked.

“When do I get to be godfather?” Tony muttered, eyeing Kennedy who shook her finger at him.

“Don’t even start! He was born all of six hours ago.”

“Hey, Steve,” Jonas called as he glanced out the window. “Your surprise is here.”

“Crap!” Steve hopped up and darted toward the window. “I damn near forgot.” In all the excitement, he’d almost forgotten about Kennedy’s Christmas present. “Be right back, doll!”

“Steven?” she called out, but he was dashing toward the door and shoving his feet into boots which looked like they’d fit before running into the snow.

“Cliff,” he grinned at the old farmer when the man rolled down the window of his truck. “Thanks for doing this on Christmas.”

“Not a problem, Cap. Not a problem. That Kennedy’s a good girl,” the grizzled old man smiled a gap-toothed grin. “You let us know how she gets on. My Martha wants to see the baby when she has it.”

Steve’s smile nearly split his face, but he wasn’t going to spoil the surprise. “Why don’t you and her come around this afternoon for a visit? You can see how Kennedy liked her present.”

“Yeah? Maybe we will at that.” He patted Steve’s shoulder out the window of his truck. “You wish the Jones’s a very merry for me, and we’ll see you all later.”

Steve waved as he drove off. Old man Cliff owned the farm down the road, and back in the summer when they’d been up for the wedding, Steve had ended up helping Matt and Jesse with the man’s cattle when the old guy had broken his foot. It had been then he’d gotten the idea for the perfect gift for Kennedy, and the old man had become a willing participant in his scheme. They’d struck up a friendship, chatting over war stories, and Steve had grown exceedingly fond of him and his wife.

He headed back into the house and tucked Kennedy’s gift behind his back as he toed off his borrowed boots. At the doorway he paused, his eyes taking in the family, all of them, who he cherished more than anything in the world, until finally coming to rest on Kennedy whose emerald green eyes were bright with excitement. “Now…” he began, causing the room to fall silent. “I know this might not be the best time for this but I did think we’d have another month before James was born.”

Bringing his hand from behind his back, he held the golden retriever puppy in his big palms. “Merry Christmas, Kennedy.”

“A puppy…” she gasped, eyes watering. “You got me a puppy.”

“Even cleared it with Tony first,” he said, striding toward her to crouch down with the red ribbon-bedecked pup.

“I can’t believe… a puppy,” she sighed, taking the little female in her hands and giggling when the puppy licked her chin.

“Well, I seem to recall someone mentioning how one day she’d really like to have a family, and a dog, and a husband who thought the world of her,” he said softly, cupping Kennedy’s cheek. “You already had the last, and you were on your way to the first, I figured why not give you everything you want when you’ve already given it to me?”

“Oh, Steven,” she whispered as tears spilled down her face. “I love you.”

Joy unending bloomed in his heart as he looked from her to his son, back in the arms of his godfather. Bucky’s smirk was a touch wet from the tears on his cheeks.

Steve lifted up on his knees to kiss his wife, scratched the puppy’s ear, and smiled. “Merry Christmas, Kennedy. My beautiful Canadian girl.”

-The End-

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