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thesexydevils · 1 year

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The Psychologist

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only.

I do not give permission for my work to be re-posted anywhere even if you give credit. But please re-blog and comment. Thank you!

Pairing: Criminal/Mafia Bucky x female reader

Summary: You, a young criminal psychologist, takes up a task with the government to study and make reports on the worst criminals in NY. One of them is James Buchanan Barnes.

Warnings: 18+ only, Dark fic, Noncon, breeding, blood, violence, force. GIF is not mine!

“Hello Dr. L/N, I got the call just an hour ago. Are you sure you want to do that?” You were sitting in front of him in your black dress pants and a beige sweater.

“Director, I can see you are not a fan of this but it is my job to study and understand humans like them.” His humorless laugh interrupted you and then he looked dead into your eyes. “Humans? This place is not made for humans. This prison is for those who are the scums of the society. Even animals are better than the monsters we cage here.”

You looked out of the window, the sky was gray with dark clouds. It was pouring outside and the gloomy weather made you low spirited. You took a deep breath and looked back at the man sitting behind the beg desk.

“Director Foster, I understand your hatred and disgust for the prisoners or as you said monsters, but right now you are stopping me from doing my job. I am here, because the Governor has appointed me to make a thorough report on the most dangerous criminals. This report is not only to see how dangerous they are, but also to see how and why they become like this.”

You took out the official letter out of your bag and handed it over to him. “I know you are worried that he will put them in a normal prison or pardon some of the crimes, but I assure you that this will never happen. Our goal is only to prevent others from becoming monsters.”

Director Foster leaned back in his chair and thought for a minute. “Fine Dr. L/N, but realize that you are putting yourself in danger. These are not just some thieves or drug dealers, most of them are criminal masterminds. Some of them will study you as you will them and play mind games.”

You nodded and told him that you will keep that in mind. As the door opened you picked your bag and stood up. A guard stepped in to take you to the first inmate, but before you left the office you heard the Director again.

“ Doctor, 2 guards will wait outside the room when you are alone with the prisoners and their hands and feet will be cuffed to the chairs. But still don't go near them.”

“I understand Director. Thank you.”

On the way to the room you talked with the guard. Apparently not many guards lasted longer than 3 years. The longest one worked 8 years but last year he had a breakdown and never came back on duty.

According to the young officer, he was a tough man with a military background, but one of the inmates got under his skin and made him lose his mind.

“Officer Peterson, can you get the inmates file and then get him too?” The Officer stilled for a moment, it took a few seconds for him to react. He turned around and looked a bit uneasy about your request. “ Are you sure Doctor? Maybe you should start with someone else?”

“Officer, I am sure, please bring him first.” He nodded and left without a word. You looked around the room, it looked like an interrogation room. With 2 chairs and a small table in between. You sat down behind the table and read through the file.

Name: James Buchanan Barnes aka Bucky

Born: 10. March 1984 in Brooklyn, NY

Criminal charges: 42 murders (31 first degree, 9 second degree), smuggling of weapons, drugs and humans, kidnapping, rape,...

Before you could read more the door opened, Officer Peterson entered the room. 2 other Officers were holding the tall man you were just reading about. He was roughly pushed down on the chair and the chains around his body were tightened and secured on the chair.

You thanked the Officers as they left the room and Peterson took his place outside beside the door.

You looked back at the man sitting in front of you, when he jerked his head and his long dark brown hair flipped to the sides. This was the first time you saw his face, he had a short untamed beard.

He was gorgeous, but him being a criminal left a bitter taste in your mouth, so you pushed all other thoughts out of your mind.

“James Buchanan Barnes, I am Dr. Y/N L/N. I am a criminal psychologist, my job is to understand the motivations of criminals, clinical evaluation of a defendant and criminal profiling. I work with the FBI and sometimes with the police too. You are one of the few people I will be profiling and making some reports.”

Your eyes met his, a cold feeling went down your spine. It was like his cold and dark eyes could see directly into your soul. But you still held eye contact with him, even knowing he was making a profile of you like you were making his.

You asked him questions about his childhood and parents, but he just sat there without answering any of it. After 40 minutes of trying to get him to speak up about his childhood, you stopped. The whole time he didn’t move, never said a word or looked away from you.

“Mr. Barnes, I will be back in 3-4 days and hopefully you will be more cooperative.” You called Officer Peterson in the room and in a few minutes he and 2 other Officers were untying him. As the three were about to leave the room you said to him. “Goodbye Mr. Barnes.”

“Bucky!” You looked shocked at him, this was the first time you heard him speak. He only smirked at your reaction. The Officers pulled him out and closed the door, leaving you with Officer Peterson.

“That was weird, no one calls him Bucky here. All the other prisoners call him Barnes. Doctor, you should be careful around him. Barnes likes to play mind games.”

You nodded and sat down again. The officers brought another prisoner, but Barnes was the one you kept thinking of.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Exactly on the third day you were back and entered the room when James Barnes was already on the chair and secured. You greeted the officers and took your seat behind the desk.

Like the last time his eyes were staring only at you. You took out your notepad and started talking. “ Mr. Barnes I hope today you will be more talkative than the last time. Can we talk today about your childhood?”

You heard him chuckle lightly. “Bucky, call me Bucky doll. Why should I tell you anything about me? Don’t you think I should get something out of it too?”

I saw the slight smirk on his face. “Mr. Barnes if you have forgotten then let me remind you that I am only a psychologist. I don’t have the authority to make any kind of deals or promises.”

He moved his head to the side and looked directly into my eyes. “Don’t worry doll, it is something you can do to make this fun for both of us. For the last time, call me Bucky or this conversation is over.”

The way he said the word fun, made your heart skip a beat. Not because you found it pleasant, but because it sounded more like a threat to you.

“Okay tell me Mr. Bar... I mean Bucky.” His tongue moved over his lower lip and he bit on it. “See it wasn’t that hard. I want to play a game. A game that wouldn’t be hard for you to play. The game is 20 Questions.” That took you by surprise and seeing his reaction, you could tell he was enjoying the expressions on your face.

“What the ...? Why this game? We are not teenagers or on a date.” He laughed, like a real genuine laugh. “Come on doll, it is not everyday that a beautiful woman comes in here to spend some time with someone like me. Just humor me a bit and I promise to behave and not ask any dirty questions.”

Bucky winked at you and you could only roll your eyes at him. His behavior shocked you. It was like day and night. You had to be careful around him and not share much information about you or your personal life.

“Okay fine, tell me about your family.?” “I had a normal family. My mother was a faithful christian and my father was a hardworking man in Brooklyn and then there was my older brother Nick. Joined the military and a few years later died in Afghanistan.”

You were about to apologize but were interrupted by him. “What is your favorite color?”

“Really? Purple. Okay what was the turning point in your life?”

“If you believe that something really bad happened that made me like this, then no, there was not a turning point in my life. Why did you become a criminal psychologist”

You took a minute to answer this question. “My sister was killed. Why did you become a criminal?”

“I am sorry about your sister.” Your vision narrowed at him and you could help but to scoff at his heartless apology. “No, you don’t. You felt nothing at all.” “ Well doll, that's what normal people say, don’t they?”

You snorted derisively at him. “Normal people? Bucky, you are far from normal people. Just answer my question.”

“Don’t be so cold, doll. It does not suit you and I wasn’t making fun of you.” His cold eyes turned mischief and he shifted his head to the side. “I always felt peaceful when I could bend people or situations to my will and to do this you need power. And power comes from money, the money that you can’t get by working a 9-5 job.”

“So you kill for money and what about the women you raped? They didn’t deserve that, no one does.”

His laugh was cold and humorless. “Doll, it’s my turn. Play fair and don’t be naughty. Why was your sister killed?”

Fury flooded you, as the dark thoughts came back. The room turned quiet, but your heart beat throbbed in your ears. You felt like the time had slowed and the clock on the wall was ticking louder. One minute turned into two and then into five, but he did not say anything or asked again.

A loud knock on the door told you that the time was over and you felt relieved knowing that now you could breathe normally again.

The officers entered the room, but Bucky kept staring at you without saying anything at all. He was pulled by two officers but before they left called you. “Doll, we will continue this in 2 days. I will be waiting for you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Almost a week went by, but you didn’t see him again. Of course you were there and met with other inmates, but somehow you couldn’t talk to him again. Barnes got under your skin and it scared you, because you met many criminals but only a handful people were this manipulative.

You were in the prison waiting in the room for him. Not because it was your decision, but because you got a call from the prison director. The director told you that Barnes had beaten an inmate almost to death, because he was telling all that you were very beautiful and nice. Somehow Barnes heard him talk about you and broke 4 ribs, 3 fingers and his jaw.

The inmate was in intensive care because of the head trauma and Barnes was held in solitary confinement. But it didn’t go well, because he banged his head against the wall till he started bleeding. The only thing Barnes wanted was to see you again and so you were waiting again for him.

You heard loud footsteps outside and you prepared yourself for him. “Doll, you came. I have been waiting for you.” You were weirded out as he was smiling so brightly, like he hadn’t almost killed a man and then went full psycho on himself.

He willingly sat down and when the officers were ready he shooed them out of the room. “So Doll, tell me, what did you do last week?”

“Mr Barnes, do you think this is funny? You almost killed a man and then went crazy on yourself.” he only laughed at me.

“It is your fault, you shouldn’t have avoided me and then you visited other guys here. It made me angry and right now you are pissing me too. I have told you to call me Bucky.”

The way his mood changed scared you. But you were going to end this now. “Bucky, you are not a part of the group I am working with anymore. I don’t think we will get any clear results if I am going to do the clinical evaluation, that’s why my colleague will do it.”

You thought he would get angry at you but he just smirked and said. “Really, we will see about this later, but now let's continue our game. Last time it was my turn, but I am going to change the question for you. So you had a sister, are there other family members?”

You looked away pinching the bridge of your nose. “My personal life is none of your business. I know you are trying to manipulate and play your sick mind games with me, but I will not let this happen.”

You stood up with your purse and went to the door, but then you heard him speak again. “

Mr. D/N L/N your dad is a professor at NYU and your mom, Mrs. M/N L/N is a family lawyer. With 3 children, the oldest daughter was killed then you came and after you there is a brother who is studying law. Then there is your boyfriend who is an assistant district attorney. Met while working on a case 3 years ago, he just proposed to you a few weeks ago. How sweet.”

“How the fuck do you know this? Did you bribe a ward to get the information?” He chuckled at you and said, “It’s all about power, love. You think, just because I am in a prison I don’t have the power anymore? Of course I do have the power, why do you think they didn’t take any actions? Because doll, I have the money and if I say jump they will only say how high.”

The anger in you was rising, but you stopped yourself from screaming at him. You were not going to give him the satisfaction of seeing you panic. You quietly stood up and packed your things and went to the door, but stopped when you heard him speak again. “Y/N, break up with your fiance. It will be much easier for you and it will also be better for him if you break his heart now then I break his neck later.”

Cold fear spiraled through you, as you heard him threaten your love Andy. You harshly turned around and started shouting at him. “Don’t you dare ... don’t you fucking dare to threaten my love or my family. James Buchanan Barnes I am glad you are rotting in this prison and one day you will die like any other disgusting low life.”

Hearing you scream the guards enter the room and it made you feel a bit better. You told them to take him back to his cell. Officer Peterson was talking to you, trying to calm you down. All of sudden one of the officers was lying on the floor with a bloody nose. The other one took his truncheon, but before he could land a hit Bucky grabbed him and banged his head on the table again and again, till his face was covered in blood.

Officer Peterson was as shocked as you were and he tried his best to protect you from him as he could. Bucky smiled sickly at you when Peterson got in between and tried to overpower Bucky, but you just heard a ugly cracking sound.

You stood, frozen with fear as his tall figure moved closer towards you. You tried to run past him but he was fast and graped your neck and pinned you to the wall.

No sound escaped your mouth, as he moved his face closer to your neck. You tried to scream as you felt his wet tongue on your neck, but Bucky covered your mouth with his hand. “No doll, not yet. I want to hear you scream, when I will push my cock into your small cunt. You taste so sweet and I bet your pussy tastes sweeter. Fuck I can’t wait to have you. See how perfectly you fit against me.”

Bucky pressed his hard on in your stomach, tears rolled down your eyes. You tried to shove him away, but the bastard only chuckled and licked your tears away. “Hmm, tasty.”

A half dozen officers ran into the room and pulled Bucky off you. One of them hit him on the back of the knees and the other one took him in a headlock, but Bucky just grinned like it was the most amusing thing in the world.

“I will see you soon doll.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After all the disaster you were not in the right mind space, you didn’t even remember entering the directors office or him talking to you. Only after Andy arrived and crunched down to your level and held your face in his hands did you come out of the shock.

You broke into tears and hugged him tightly. Andy whispered sweet and encouraging things to you. About 10 minutes later you both were leaving the prison building and led you to his car. All the while you didn’t say a word to him and he didn’t push you to talk.

You closed your eyes as soon as he started the car and in less than 5 minutes you were lulled in a dreamless sleep.

After 3 months you were back to normal like you used to be. Andy was a sweetheart, always taking care of you and supporting your decisions. You continued your assignment in the prison but you stayed in the right wing only with another psychologist in the room.

It was a beautiful day, Andy and you had finally decided a wedding date and the venue was booked. You were out with your friends, helping you with other wedding related matters. Andy was free today and he was all happy to stay home and cook dinner for you.

Surprisingly he was a fabulous cook and you were really excited for tonight, because you had some dresses in mind. You said your goodbyes to your best friends and entered your car and drove back to your apartment.

Shortly after you arrived at home and even before you opened the door you smelled the heavenly delicious Italian garlic bread. You entered your home, it was dark inside and only the fairy lights gave you the directions to the living room. A table was set with a red wine bottle and the food. You saw Andy’s silhouette and smiled at him.

The beautiful moment was disturbed by your mobile. “Andy, give me two minutes. I will make it quick.” You turned around and left the room and picked up. “Dr. L/N there is bad news ... the prisoner James Barnes escaped from prison with the help of his team. Please stay safe ...” The mobile slipped from your fingers and you ran back in the room. You hastily turned the light on, but when you looked at Andy, you screamed out.

You ran up to him, softly touching his bloody face. His hands were bound on his back and a dishcloth was stuffed in his mouth. You reached to pull it out, but suddenly you were yanked away from him.

Bucky caged you in his arms, his chest rubbed against your back and his face was between your shoulder and neck. He took a deep breath and spoke huskily in your ear. “I missed you doll. 3 fucking months ... Do you know how pissed I was when you visited, but never came to meet me. But don’t worry we will catch up soon.”

“Andy!” You called out his name, he looked up at you. His blood dripped down his chin. Bucky saw this and chuckled lightly and nibbled the soft flesh on your neck. One of his hands slipped under your blouse and grabbed your boob.

Seeing this Andy screamed but his voice was muffled by the cloth. You shrieked in pain when Bucky bit your shoulder blade. Andy screamed again and tried to pull himself from the chair, but his beaten up body was not helping much.

Bucky grabbed your hair harshly and pushed you forward to Andy. He yanked the cloth out of his mouth and spoke to him very softly. “Andy, between us men, how is she in the bed? I bet she is a wild pussy cat. Look at her how sweet and innocent she looks.”

He pushed her face near Andy’s. “Barnes, let her go! Please, just let her go. Don’t hurt her.”

Bucky tugged you back and pinning your body against his. “Hurt? I am not going to hurt her. I am going to fuck her. You have no idea how much I wanted to do that the first time he came to the prison.” Without any warning his lips were on you. You punched his chest, but he did not stop.

“Barnes, let her go. You fucking bastard. I will kill you, just leave her alone. Fuck, I will kill you. Fuck...” One moment he was forcing his tongue in your mouth and the next moment you were on the floor. Before you realized what happened, you heard an ugly stabbing sound. You turned your face back and saw a kitchen knife in Bucky's hand.

Everything stilled around you as you saw the blood running down the knife's edge. Bucky stabbed Andy a second time in his stomach, as you crawled towards him. “ No, no,no. Please, no! Andy, baby no. Please don’t leave me. Andy ...”

But Bucky picked you up and threw you on his shoulder and walked to Andy and your bedroom. You tried to grab Andy’s shoulder, but could reach him.

You were tossed on the bed and somehow it knocked the air out of your lungs. Bucky pinned you down on the bed, but you lashed out. You hit, punched and scratched his face, shoulders and arms, but nothing moved him away from you.

You screamed and cried. “No, please let me go. Don’t do this. Andy, HELP! ANDYY!”

A sudden slap shocked her to silence, the force turned her face to side and her cheek had a stinging sensation. Bucky was not done yet, he grabbed her neck and whispered harshly in her ear. “If you again say his name, I will make sure the police will not find his body in one piece. My people will scatter every part of his in different city districts. From now on you will only say my name.”

He kept his grip on her neck. “I thought I would take my time with you today, but now you have pissed me, doll. Last chance, calm down and enjoy or ...” He grabbed your face aggressively and invaded your mouth, but as you didn’t kiss him back, he growled into your mouth. “Fuck, doll! Kiss me back.” You cried harder, your tears soaked your cheeks. Bucky grabbed your hair, his lips were back on yours. You whimpered as his tongue was back in your mouth. He tugged your hair again, till you didn’t move your tongue against his.

Meanwhile Bucky pushed your leggings down, his free hand slipped between your legs and cupped your pussy though your panties. In panic you bit into his lip, making him bleed. Bucky pulled back and touched his bottom lip with his fingers and smirked. “Doll, why didn’t you tell me, you like it rough?As you wish, Y/N.”

He ripped the blouse open and then he took his pocket knife out and slid it between your boobs and cut your bra. The cold air made her nipples tight and hard and he saw that. Bucky pushed the teared fabric to the side and took your nipple between his lips and bit down on her nipple.

You yelped and started begging him. “Please ... no, let me go.” Then you felt his strength as he just ripped your panties from bothside. He let you go for a moment and you took the chance and crawled away from him, but he gripped your leggings and pulled it down. Before you got off the bed, Bucky yanked you back by your ankle. “NO ... no don’t do this.”

He lifted your leg and pinned it on the bed. His body weight on your back made it impossible for you to move. His finger slid between your pussy lips and rubbed your clit.

You winced as he entered you with his finger, as you were still dry.

“BUCKY!” You yelled when you felt his dick between your thighs. Bucky pushed his cock against your pussy. “Sssshhh ... relax, it won’t hurt much.”

“Please.” You choked, as he entered you completely in one push. “Fuck, you are so tight.” you gripped the sheets tightly, when he pulled all the way out and pushed back in. You cried out, when he slammed in your pussy again and again. He groaned into your ear. “ Doll you are made for my cock. I can feel you getting wet.” One hand was holding your leg apart and the other one moved down to your clit and circled your clit.

He was right, you were getting wet and coating his cock. It shocked you, how your body was reacting to the abuse and rape. You whimpered and shook your head. “ Soon you will learn to like it and then there will be a time where you will beg me to fuck you.”

“Never!” You spat and tried to push him off your back, but he just fucked harder. You yelped again when he bit your shoulder and sucked the skin, leaving marks all over you.

Suddenly Bucky pulled out, but before you could react he turned you around and got between your legs. He slid back into you, you felt him so deep that his dick was almost touching your womb.

One of your nipples was in his mouth, his tongue rolled around the hard bud, his right hand was pinching the other bud. His other hand was holding your leg around his hip, as he pushed his cock harder into you.

Bucky released your nippled with a pop and kissed your jaw, like you were lovers. “I love fucking you, doll. I could fuck you all day.” A kiss silenced your protest. He slammed harder and you could help but arch your back. “I knew, you will like it. Your little pussy is gripping so tightly. You are about to cum in my cock.”

He spread both of her legs wide and held them open, as he moved deep in her. “I want to see you cum, fuck you are creaming me so well.” You cried harder, because you felt your body let go. “ Stop ... please don’t make me. Bucky ... don’t.” He continued fucking you while he was rubbing his thumb on your clit.”

“Doll, cum on my cock, I know you want to. Your pussy loves my dick.” He rubbed your clit harder, his thighs slapped against yours. “Noooo!” Your legs trembled as the organsam grew and washed over your body. Giving into his assault you came hard on his cock.

“ Good girl, now it’s time for you to take my cum. Fuck, you got tighter.”

“No, don't cum inside me, I will get pregnant, please don’t!” He pulled you up and held you tightly against his body, his lips pushed against your and his tongue was in your mouth. You groaned as he went faster in a new position into your over stimulated pussy.

Your legs shook, because the over stimulation made you cum again and with that he spilled his cum inside you. “You are mine Dr. Y/N L/N.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You heard him say, before your eyes closed and you welcomed the darkness with open arms.

A few hours later Bucky was sitting in his private jet and with you sleeping in his lap and in one hand a whisky glass. You would sleep for at least the next 12 hours. The drug he gave you after you blacked out was a bit strong, but would make sure you didn’t wake up during the entire flight.

A couple hundreds miles away a man was dead on the operation table only to be revived back to life in a few minutes.

Assistant district attorney Andrew “Andy” Barber opened his eyes after 32 hours, only knowing one thing. He will get you back safe and he will kill James Buchanan Barnes.

“Y/N I will find you. Promise.”

The End

If you like it, leave comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!!!

#dark!bucky x you #dark bucky barnes #dark fic #mafia bucky x reader #andy barber #non con #criminal au

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liyawritesss · 2 years

Note

Yay, inbox is open! Please ignore this, if you're uncomfortable. Can I ask for jealous!deku angst? Like maybe he breaks up w reader due to his jealousy and rlly regrets it?

I saw a post like this on @xinii 's acc, and I had to see your version <3

ʜᴜʀᴛꜱ ʟɪᴋᴇ ʜᴇʟʟ

Pairing: Pro-Hero!Midoriya “Deku” Izuku x GN!Black!Reader

Genre: Fic

Synopsis: Sometimes our emotions get the better of us. We do and say things that we don’t mean, and then we are left with the consequences of those actions. Izuku knows this, but it still hurts like hell.

Warnings: Jealousy, angst, break up, kind of ooc midoriya?.

A/N: I totally didn't cry writing this, shut up. Also I admit it's rushed bc I did miss last Friday on my post schedule so I do apologize. Either way i still hope it fits your taste.

Midoriya knows he shouldn’t be angry with you.

It’s not easy, being the lover of a Pro-Hero, one of the best at that. It can’t be helped that people need his assistance, day in and day out. He’s barely ever home; patrols in the morning, paperwork, afternoon patrol, reports for the day, and he’s almost always asked to help with steakouts that lead late into the night. Izuku can’t be there for you, and he understands that you’ll want company to quench your loneliness.

What he didn’t understand was why you had to spend your evening with Todoroki Shouto at a high-end restaurant in the luxury belt of the city.

He watches from a tall building as you and Todoroki dine on your expensive meal, chatting amongst yourselves like you’ve been friends since childhood (which, in hindsight, you have). Your vibrant, contagious smile, which normally swelled Midoriya’s heart with love and adoration, now made him feel oddly sick and betrayed as it was paired with Todoroki’s.

Midoriya knows he shouldn’t be angry with you, but he can’t help but wonder if, due to his time away, you’ve taken a liking to the two toned mutual friend.

He trusted you, though, didn’t he? He also trusted Todoroki, right? So what was there to worry about? Surely you wouldn’t cheat on him with one of his best friends.

Midoriya shook his head violently. Why would such a question even cross his mind? Even when the new sidekick he’s training brings him back from the depths of his mind, the thought lingers heavy in the back of his head. He allows it to fester as he thinks of the worst possible scenarios. Have you fallen out of love with him? Has he not given you enough of him?

These emotions become more heightened when he arrives home, to hear you on the phone with someone. Of course, due to what he saw mere hours ago, he believes it to be Todoroki, and his mood sours even more.

You come out from your shared bedroom, having heard the front door open. You bid your farewells to Todoroki, ready to envelope your lover in a tight bear hug, but the moment you step into the loft and feel the shift in the air that Midoriya has brought with him, unease fills your being.

Midoriya has come home in a negative mood before - it’s only to be expected given his profession - but this time it seemed different to you. The way he practically ignored your presence didn’t sit right with you. There was no smile on his lips, the one that made crinkles appear at the corners of his eyes. Said eyes had an odd coldness to them, causing your body to tense.

“Welcome home, Izuku,” you said, voice small and cautious. Midoriya hummed in acknowledgement as he took off his jacket and shoes. His lack of words made you shift in anticipation, twiddling your thumbs as you pushed on. “I got home not too long ago, so I wasn’t able to make anything. Should we order out-?”

“I don’t care.” The green haired man said, cutting you off coldly. It left a sharp sting in your chest, a wave of coldness washing over your figure. Something was definitely wrong.

“Is everything alright, babe?”

“Yup, everything’s great.”

Izuku brushed past you with a swiftness that made it seem like he was trying to avoid you. Perhaps he was. Although it was a joke amongst your mutual friends, an angry Midoriya was not one to be taken lightly. If he could just walk away, distance himself, find some way to calm him down before he-

“If you had a tough day, maybe we could talk about it?”

-blew a fuse.

“Yeah,” was what left his lips as Midoriya stopped mid-way to your shared bedroom. “Yeah, let's talk about my day. Why not?”

The green haired pro hero turned on his heel to face you, a rush of cold heat spreading throughout his body. "Let's talk about my day. Or should we talk about yours? Let-Let's talk about how I saw you and Shouto at that high end restaurant downtown, huh? How you were so bubbly and bright and happy. Were you enjoying yourself, (Y/N)?"

His question dripped with venom, holding an accusation that you never thought would slip through your lover’s lips. There was a sudden bud of agitation that sprouted in the pit of your stomach, enraged by the fact that Midoriya thought so low of you.

“I don’t appreciate being called a cheater, Izuku-”

“You said it, I didn’t.”

“I would never do that to you! Shouto is my friend as well, I have every right to want to hang out with friends, too!”

“Oh, so you and Mina go to high end restaurants having the time of your life then, too, huh? How come I’ve never seen you two at that restaurant then?”

The more Izuku edged on, the hotter your body became - there was a light tremor which made your hands shake and your body quiver. Out of anxiety or agitation, you weren’t sure. He must’ve seen the two of you on the rooftop of that restaurant when he was on patrol, and took things out of context. That was the only explanation, you thought, as to why Midoriya was coming at you out of the blue like this.

“Izuku, you’ve got this all wrong,” you tried to reason though gritted teeth, trying to find appropriate words that wouldn’t edge the argument on further, “yes, Shouto went to that restaurant-”

“I knew it-”

“-as friends, nothing more! Do you really think that low of me?

“You wanna know what I think?” Midoriya says, teeth grit so tight you can see his jaw flex and tense under his skin. “I think that if you enjoyed yourself so much with Shouto, maybe you should go be with him.”

There was a deafening silence that followed Midoriya’s words. The tension was so thick you could hear your heartbeat pumping in your ears. Before you could get any more words out, Midoriya turned on his heel again, making a beeline for your shared room, slamming the door shut. The loudness of it made your body jump violently. And with the tremors that shook your body and thumping of your heart as loud as a drump, you barely noticed the waterfall of tears that slowly left your eyes.

If you enjoyed, please leave a like, comment, and reblog for others to see! And don’t be shy to send in a request!!

#black reader #black tumblr #black academia #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bnha imagines #mha imagines #bnha #mha #mha deku #bnha deku #midoriya izuku #izuku midoriya #deku x reader #deku x black!reader #midoriya x black reader #midoriya x reader #izuku x reader #izuku x black!reader

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huesohnobro · 2 years

Text

You Don’t Love Her

Chapter 3: Every Rose Has It’s Thorns

Content warning for: Graphic depictions of violence, blood, manipulation, someone almost dies, or maybe they do die y’all won’t find out until I post the next chapter from ao3

It had been days since Natasha had last allowed herself to rest. There were too many preparations to be made for the upcoming mission, too much analysis to be done on the target, too many things that all circled back to Y/n L/n and her own personal failings for Natasha to have the time for something as frivolous as sleep. She would be fine once the raid on the cult encampment was done and over with, she promised, she wasn’t just lying to herself out of fear. No, the famed Black Widow was not afraid of seeing a face long forgotten in her dreamscape, not afraid of the idea of the one person who had managed to evade her every attack, who had smiled and held her after finally being stabbed.

Fear was for children, and Natasha was far from being a child.

The mission was tonight, Natasha would be able to get some rest then, but now going back over the building schematics was a more pressing matter. Running a hand through her hair, the spy sat hunched over her desk, filled with enough frazzled energy to match the copious piles of papers and files sitting on the stained mahogany of her station. Everything about this mission had to be perfect, she couldn’t have another mistake like last time…

God how you had come back to haunt her… she had forgotten about you, your dealings had been quiet yet devastating; much like her own at the time. You were like a painful figment of her imagination until a week ago, your blue skin, your piercing eyes and too sharp teeth, they were all fictitious. Instead they were all too real, and now they were messily patched onto other people like some sort of fucked up genetic quilt.

She would have to see you again within the next 12 hours, Fury had put her in charge of the mission alongside Steve; the two of them combined had the most infiltration experience of the available team. It made perfect sense for Fury to elect her, and yet the decision ate away more and more of her soul and her lungs with every second that ticked by on the clock.

Natasha refused to mess up a mission that dealt with your demonic business again, she’d shoot you down where you stood if she got the chance to do so again, information about who hydra had taken be damned.

Pulling open a drawer, Natasha pushed aside a book to lift a panel, staring at what laid beneath. A combat knife sat in the bottom of the drawer, its appearance and surroundings both without fanfare; its black handle was worn from overuse, the silver blade glinted in the fluorescent lights of the office. If Natasha stared for long enough, she could see blue-gray smoke waft off of the blade; if she stared for too long, the smell of sulfur began to choke her. Closing the panel, Natasha’s ears had picked up on a slight shuffling of feet, a knock on the open door interrupting the spy’s train of thought.

Looking up over the sea of manila envelopes and not-so-carefully penned mission reports, emerald eyes met slightly lighter ones of the same hue. Sighing deeply, Natasha gestured for the witch to come in, quickly allowing for herself to be reabsorbed in the scattered reports.

“You haven’t come to have tea with me in a few days. Did I… did I do something wrong? Was the tea not good enough? I can steep it for less time or something-”

Switching her gaze from blended-together words and code to the now fidgeting Wanda, Natasha sat up in her seat. She could feel the vertebrae in her back pop as she stretched her torso upwards, maybe a little too much to be considered healthy but that was an issue for later.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, I’ve just been busy with the mission.” Wanda’s eyebrow raised tentatively, the corners of her mouth pulling into a slight grimace. The witch walked into the room, pulling out the chair in front of the desk before taking a seat. Moss-green eyes poured over Natasha’s facial features, causing the ex-assassin to tense in her seat. She hated being analyzed like this, it brought back images of tall men in dark clothing, of Madame B hitting her or shocking her with a prod in order to correct her en pointe form. “When was the last time you slept, Natasha?” Rather than gratifying the, admittedly fairly reasonable, question with any form of answer the spy simply blinked and shrugged.

“Slept well or slept? Because both were a while ago.”

“Ah, well if that's the case then-”

Red energy began swirling around the room, tendrils reaching out towards the various papers spread across the desk and piling them high above both of the women’s heads. Grimacing, Natasha stood up, walked around the desk and held out her hand, twitching her fingers as a signal for Wanda to hand back the precious reports. Smirking playfully, Wanda’s eyes swirled with the same red magic that floated in the air; it would’ve been enthralling had Natasha not been so god damn annoyed with the reason they shone. “You can get these back after we have lunch and you get some rest.” Natasha opened her mouth to argue, but the witch continued before she could even utter a single word. “I’ll even cook for you, I found a pelmeni recipe that I’ve been wanting to try if you’re interested?”

Pelmeni, now that had caught the Black Widow’s attention. It had been all too long since she had had the meat filled dumplings of her now all too far away home. Melina had been especially good at making them when she and Yelena were younger…

A warm, soft grip on her hand had snapped her out of her thoughts; probably for the best. As Wanda pulled her along the halls, Natasha couldn’t help but notice how the light caught through the brunette's hair, burning select portions with the color of rust. Perhaps rest would be allowed to be an option for now, especially if it meant keeping that playful gleam in the younger Avenger’s eye.

The hours leading up to the mission had passed with the lethargy of a cheetah, leading Steve and Natasha to the rendezvous point they had previously agreed on. The halls of the compound were eerily empty, void of the patchwork soldiers previously viewed on screen. No, rather than the quilted together forces of hell that they had been expecting, Captain America and the Black Widow were met with silent and clear pathways, their footsteps deafening against the decorative stone floors. Pressing themselves to either side of the door frame that led into your office, the Black Widow made eye contact with America’s “first” super-soldier, praying that he couldn’t see the anxiety in her eyes.

The grandfather clock in your office clicked the seconds away at an agonizing pace as you lounged in your seat. The footsteps coming down the hall were all but well hidden, and yet you couldn’t help the sense of glee that ran through your chest and up your spine as you watched the screens hidden in your desk. One heartbeat, two, three passed before the two Avengers crashed through your door, Captain America’s shield making quite the indent into the oaken wood. Your brows furrowed as you stared at that indent, the inconvenience clearly painted onto your face as you rose from your seat.

“That door was expensive. A carpenter had to be commissioned to etch the detailing-” Your eyes shifted from the cracked and chipped wood to the star-spangled man child, your arms crossed in indignation. “You will be paying for that when we’re done here, yes? Or shall I contact your next of kin in order to have that done.” The baffled look on his face brought you much more joy than you'd like to admit, your tail flicking as a smug grin formed on your face. Lazily moving your gaze towards the black widow, your smile grew as you watched her visibly tense. “Natalia, I knew you’d come back eventually, have you missed me cariña?”

The answer appeared to be a resounding no as two sparking metal probes shot from her wrists, landing in velvet curtains as you faded into the realm of smoke and brimstone, appearing next to her. “Electrocution? That's new araña, you should be a bit more careful though-”

Wrapping your tail around the Widow’s ankle, you pulled her behind you and quickly lunged out towards the Captain, feinting for a grab before disappearing into a cloud of smoke. Teleporting into the air, you drop a kick into the back of the man in blue before disappearing into smoke yet again, landing by the bookshelf on your wall. Looking back at Natalia, you picked a sheathed dagger up off of one of the various shelves of items. “You could’ve hurt me after all.”

As a disk of vibranium came hurtling towards your chest, you disappeared to your desk, landing in a perched position on its top. You heard America's golden boy audibly groan before rushing to the desk, the shield coming back to his arm as he threw a punch. In your peripheral you could see Natalia go around your back, her hands glowing with fierce lines of blue. Leaning to the side, you dodged the captain’s punch and put a hand on his shoulder, moving forward to flip yourself over his shoulder. A crackle sounded in the air as the spy and the soldier’s fists collided, the latter’s body tensing with the voltage that flowed through the widow’s fists. Laughing, you watched the two size you up yet again. Looking in their eyes, you saw frustration rather than the fear you had grown accustomed to.

That would have to change soon.

Unsheathing the dagger, you beckoned for the two to come, pleasantly surprised when the Captain had thrown his oversized frisbee at your legs; that would've been brutal had you not teleported out of the way. Natalia closed in as you re-materialized, throwing brutal blow after brutal blow for you to block. The ferocity in her eyes was exhilarating, especially when it became tainted as you stabbed at her arms and torso. You both artfully blocked each other, a refrain of the beautiful waltz you two had danced when you had first met. As your blade glided against the kevlar of her suit, you felt a line of fire tear itself down your spine, ripping the air from your lungs. You had forgotten about the damn shield, just like you had forgotten about how infamous the Avenger’s suits were for their protection. A boot hit the back of your knee before you teleported away from the confrontation, dropping the knife between them. Gritting your teeth in frustration, you pushed your hair from your face in order to better see the two.

“Are you two serious?! You come into my office, you practically rip my door from its hinges, destroy my letter opener collection, and then you try to break my fucking spine?!” Your tail thrashed as you spoke, your hands moving to readjust your suit jacket. “I expected this from the other Avengers, but you too Natalia? After what we had all those years ago?” The shield-bearer glanced towards Natalia with clear confusion, the spy clenching her jaw with anger.

“Don’t you dare call me that. We didn’t have anything Y/n, I should’ve killed you that day.”

Tilting your head, you took a step forward, not ignoring how the shield-bearer raised his piece of scrap metal in preparation. “Didn’t have anything? Mí amor.. You know that's not true.” Another step, the captain had rushed you yet again. Instead of teleporting away you used his momentum against him to flip him into the ground before straddling his hips. Rearing back his fist, he smashed his fist into your stomach, holding the shield over his torso to protect it. His defense was almost cute, but it wasn't enough to save him as your tail slipped behind the shield, the sharpened tip stabbing into his appendix. His flesh felt warm around your skin, especially as you tore upwards, enjoying the way that his shielded arm dropped to his side in pain as his free hand reached up to your throat. The pain on his face was breathtaking, even as his hands bruised your neck and a bullet lodged itself into the back of your ribs. Biting your tongue you slowly rose to your feet, ripping your tail from the body of America. Raising the bloodied appendage and running a finger across it, you turned your head towards Natalia before licking the blood from your fingers. The pistol in her hands quivered as you sighed in disappointment. “Araña, you’re lucky I love you.” Taking a step towards her, you teleported the rest of the distance and grabbed the wrist holding the pistol. Quickly bending her arm, you wrapped your tail around the other and turned her body around; her back rested against your front as she thrashed, her gloved hands sparking up once more. Glaring down at her hands, you felt your body hurtle back as Natalia hooked her ankle around yours, throwing her weight into you. Landing flat on your back, you coughed as the air left your lungs. Your grip remained firm on the spy, a growl emanating from your throat as she fought and thrashed against your grip.

Pulling the red-head’s body closer to your chest, you watched as her companion’s blood smeared itself onto both her and your sleeves. Damn it, this was an Armani suit jacket. She’s lucky that you can’t stay mad at her… well, you can of course. You could do whatever, feel however you wanted; you were a God after all.

A shock pulsed through your chest, your muscles contracting as a silent scream formed in your throat, the Widow escaping your grip as two pieces of conductive metal pierced into your skin. The spy quickly rushed over to America, leaving you convulsing on the floor. It burned, god did it burn, you could feel the individual fibers of your muscles push and pull as the prongs fed static currents into your body. Smoke poured from your body as you tried to teleport away from the pain, your body relocating itself throughout the room as you tore at your skin, so close yet so close to the affronting pieces of metal. Eventually your fingers scraped the prongs, and you could smell the flesh of your hands burning as you grabbed them and pulled, forcing your hand open before falling to your knees. Your body was covered in a cold sweat, it felt faint as your vision blurred.

No. Not like this dammit. Get up, get the fuck up.

Slowly rising to your feet, you looked at Natalia’s hunched form, laving her friend with attention. That should be you dammit. He probably didn’t even know the real Natalia; but on that same note, did you?

Of course you did. She was just like you, a killer, ruthless and willing to do whatever it took, even if it meant eating your competition alive. A glint of silver caught the corner of your eye, the dagger from before rested three feet in front of you. Dragging your feet you stumbled forward, picking up the knife before teleporting over to Natalia and grabbing her by the scalp, your free hand pressing the blade not to her neck, but to the chest of America. The tip rested over his heart, your eyes were cold as you glowered down at the red-room graduate. “You make any moves, and I kill your friend.” Your gaze softened as you watched her wild eyes shift around the room, searching, begging for a possible escape. Breathing out gently, your tail caressed the Widow’s cheek, a trail of blood being left behind. Shamrock colored eyes bore into your own, you almost regretted what you had to do. “This all could have been avoided had you just tried to reason with me araña. I know there’s a reason you haven’t made good on your earlier threat.”

“Yes, because I just shoot everybody who I want to keep alive.”

Her voice dripped with sarcasm, it was charming enough to draw a soft smile out of you, your tail tracing her jaw.

“That’s okay, araña, I can forgive you for that. Maybe we can talk it over after your friend finally bleeds out.”

Her jaw tightened, her eyes set with a burning rage as she lurched forward. You tighten your grip, pulling at the Widow’s scalp and pushing the knife ever so slightly into the soldier’s chest, the blade still clean. “Watch it araña. No one will be here to save you or your star-spangled companion. I suggest you watch your tempe-”

Your words were cut off as you were thrown into the air by a swirling mass of red tendrils, smoke radiating off your body due to sheer panic, the sulfurous gas joining the thickening haze on the floor. You tried to shift out of the writhing energy, but something prohibited you from entering your passageway, something that shook your very soul. Your lip twitches, watching Natalia scoop up the Captain and rush out of the room before you snap your gaze towards the door. You were met with the sight of a woman in a red halter top and cape with eyes that burned crimson before you heard a voice. No.. not heard... it didn't hit your ears, there was no one talking- but it- she… was there, she was in your head.

“I hope for your sake Rogers makes it out of this, or what is coming next will become all the more unpleasant.”

You head was filled with what sounded like a shrieking siren before you blacked out, magic muddling your senses as your unconscious form was dragged away.

#natasha romanoff x reader #you dont love her #soft moments #blood and violence #steve rogers #cult shit #cult leader reader #emotional manipulation #gaslight gatekeep girlboss #oh look I’m impaled #reader speaks Spanish #enemies to lovers #slow burn

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short-skirt-longjackett · 2 years

Text

Renewal Isn’t a Lie Anymore pt.2

-Edward Nashton x gn! reader/ Bruce Wayne x gn!reader

- pt. 1 here, part 3, part 4, part 5

-warnings: light incel behavior, light nsfw, hurt, angst, no comfort at end :((

Over the next couple months, you and Edward have become close friends. Since he is a forensic account, he volunteers for the orphanage on the weekend. You text him about updates on the kids, he especially loves when you send pictures of you and the kids together. You looked so bright when you’re around “your” children. He even decided to make his home screen you holding Cythina, his lock screen being a picture of you and him smiling.

You kept him sane, you made him feel important and wanted. He still remembers the night you asked for him to send a picture of him for a contact picture. He posed in front of a mirror with a smile, thumbs up, with his Radiohead shirt. Edward almost passed out when you texted back, “Thank you! I love your shirt, it looks cute on you :)”. He then asked for a the same thing, you then sent yourself in the bathroom, doing the same pose but in your silk nightdress/ pajamas. He felt so lucky, he couldn’t help but let his hand travel down his stomach and into his boxers.

He wanted more from this friendship though, he wanted to say your his, and only his. You always would in his fantasies at night. He wants to make this dream into reality. He felt like he deserved you more than anyone, he worked so hard for what he has, doesn’t he deserve a reward?

Sometimes when you are together at the orphanage helping, Bruce would stop by and steal your attention from Edward. He would watch in envy as you greeted him with a hug and a long kiss.

But he noticed something, he can read in between the lines. Over all the time Bruce would greet you, he seemed to be less and less into your hugs and kisses. He always seemed less interested in your affection. One time you heard Bruce was there at the orphanage and you rushed to him. Edward snuck behind you, he saw you try to embrace and kiss Bruce and he lightly pushed you away. All he said was, “Not now…sorry…” You just nodded and walked along his side.

‘Bruce was losing interest in you’ he thought, now he can make his move. The next day, you seem calm and happy. You kept adjusting your turtleneck, Edward felt his stomach drop when he saw hickies along your neck. All he felt was anger, not towards you, but toward your husband for ruining your precious skin. Only he should do that, he wanted to mark you.

————————————————————————----------------------------------

The “Ridder” was out tonight, he was ready to get evidence of Batman or Bruce Wayne. He wasn’t sure if you knew he was Batman or not, but he still was going to show you the truth. Though he knew he was Bruce, he wanted to wait to share that moment with the public. It had to be grand, it had to have an extra element to it.

He saw Batman with…someone? He was usually seen with an older detective, but this was a woman in a tight black suit. He was a bit confused but continued to watch them. Before he knew it, he found his lead. He wanted to make sure it was what he thought, but as always, he was right.

He felt terrible, but pulled out his phone and recorded the whole interaction. “Oh my sweet Y/n... the plans I have for you..” he chuckled to himself.

———————————————————————-----------------------------------

A couple days pass and you haven’t heard from Edward, “Maybe he’s just busy…His job seems hard after all.” you mumbled to yourself. You worried for your friend after all, he seemed so lonely when he wasn’t around you. As you put on your silk robe, you left your shared room into the kitchen. Alfred always offered to make you food but you always insisted of making your own.

Bruce left for his nightly duties around 4 hours ago, you were so bored without him. You felt like you haven’t seen him in so long. You feel…lonely. You miss Bruce, not Batman. You turned on the news to see the reporters talking about the Riddler killing yet another person. The Riddler was…scary, you feel childish for saying that but he was. Ever since that first letter, he wrote you more. He always used valentine’s day cards with riddles about love, angels, hearts etc.

You hated to admit it but…You felt like this weird killer was giving you more attention than your own husband. He put thought into writing to you and it made you feel wanted.

The news showed a video of him sitting on a chair with a green sheet with a question mark in the back, “Hello people of Gotham. It’s the Riddler here with news to share more information about your lovely government officials and your GCPD.” he then went onto exposing the corrupt people in your city. He showed pictures of officials coming out of the Iceberg Lounge with young women who weren’t their spouses by their sides. “Oh...their poor wives.”

You watched people that you knew from parties and galas were shown for the people they truly are. Then he made a statement, yelling almost, “The ONLY one of you who actually change this city is none other than Y/n Wayne. While their husband does nothing but lounge all day and all night, they put in the work for this city. THEY made a promise of renewal and THEY STUCK WITH IT. They have done more in a the past year than anyone has done in 20 plus years. So Y/n Wayne, you shall be spared from any terror, but for the rest….watch out.” the video ended and showed the two reporters again.

“I’m spared..?” you asked yourself. You shook your head and headed towards your office. You opened your laptop, scrolling endlessly through online shopping sites for 15 minutes.

*Ping!*

You heard your email go off, it was from an unknown name. You hesitated answering, but before you could your phone’s ringtone for Bruce went off. You jumped a bit before answering your phone, “Hello..?”

“Y/N! Don’t open anything from the Riddler. We found his plans and I don’t want you to open anything till I come home. I’m almost there…I love you.” he said, ending it abruptly.

“I…I love you more..” you softly said to yourself, placing your phone on your desk. The past 20 minutes we’re killing too cause of the anticipation. You walked around your office till you couldn’t take it.

“Fuck it..” you went back into your chair. You went to your email and clicked on the email. The screen went black, then you were greeted with the Riddler speaking to his phone.

“Hellooooo, hello hello hello my sweet angel. I hope you’re doing well tonight, I bet your look ravishing as usual.” he said, giggling after. You felt off, fear creeping up on you.

“Now my sweet, you’re probably wondering why I’m sending this to you. Well, you know Brucey don’t you? Do you really know him? I don’t know if you know this, probably do since you’re with him. Bruce Wayne is the Batman. But that’s not all, haha, I have something to show you about your ‘sweet, ‘LOYAL’ husband!” he yelled, you flinched. What was he talking about?

“But I know you won’t believe me…no no no you won’t. But maybe, I should show you myself.” his voice got deeper. It then cut away to Bruce and…some woman? You’ve never seen her before at parties the two of you went to.

“I shouldn’t be doing this anymore…I have a wife you know..” Bruce said, captions helping you make out what he is saying. But what does he mean….

“What they don’t know, won’t kill them…” the mysterious woman spoke, leaning in to kiss him.

You froze, watching as Bruce embraced the woman, not pushing her away. You couldn’t move, your breath stopped. You felt the tears well up in your eyes as he kissed her. He was so…intimate. He wasn’t like that with you anymore…. it was just sex, never love making. Now you know where it went to...

It cut back to the Riddler, “Please do what you will with this evidence. Goodbye my soon to be weeping angel… Just know Mrs./Mr. Wayne….you have me on your side!” he cheered, waving the camera goodbye.

You just stared at the black screen, “H-How could he…” you said softly, feeling the tears run down your face.

You heard your door slam open, revealing Bruce out of his suit, just in sweatpants. His black eye makeup smudged, his breathing heavy. You just looked at him and shook your head, your hands covering your mouth. You hunched over in your chair and sobbed, Bruce rushed to your side, rubbing your back, “Y/n…speak to me. What’s wrong” he asked.

You turned to him, sadness and anger in your eyes, “What’s wrong?...WHAT’S WRONG?!” you yelled, jumping up out of your seat. You looked down at him, “So…who’s this other woman you’ve been seeing behind my fucking back..?” you asked, you were finally broken, seeing Bruce for who he is.

Bruce didn’t say anything, he couldn’t. The Riddler has caught him red handed.

Edward- 1 Bruce- 0

#danonation #paul dano #edward nashton x reader #edward nashton #the riddler x reader #the riddler #the batman 2022

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primofate · 3 years

Note

Hi there, can I request the boys seeing you got injured or being attacked, whichever is fine ^^

Hey anon! You didn’t specify how injured but I’ll just run with it hahaha :)

Shortfic

Scenario: You got injured Part 1

Part 2 with Zhongli

Part 3 with Xiao

Characters: gn! reader x Diluc, Kaeya, Albedo, Childe

Warnings: angst, injury, no character death though

Masterlist

https://primofate.tumblr.com/post/653296890583154688/masterlist-for-mobile-version-main-links

Taglist (Want to be notified when something new comes out? Sign up!):

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If you’d like to be extra sweet and donate, here’s my kofi link:

https://ko-fi.com/primofate

Diluc

“Master Diluc, if I could just interrupt--” one of the caretakers in the winery walked up to his office and prepared for the assault of words that could be fired towards him, sure enough, Diluc interrupted. “What is it? I’m a little busy right now, make it quick,” he hadn’t turned his face to look at the grim expression weaving in and out through the caretaker. Hadn’t bothered to look up to check if there was anything amiss, but the caretaker continued quickly “It’s Y/N,” the caretaker had only paused for a moment but Diluc had already picked his head up at the mention of your name. It was here that he realises something must have gone wrong, the caretaker’s expression was not a pleasant one. He was up on his feet, eyes widening a fraction at the following words, “They came back to the mansion seconds ago and they’ve been injured past what Adelinde could fix so we called for a doctor—”

In Diluc’s hurry he had stumbled over his chair, it tripping behind him with a thud on the floor but he ignored it and fast runs towards your room. Dear Archons he should NOT have let you go on that commission by yourself. You could hold your own, yes, but things happened and he really should have thought that through first. He was berating himself for it as he swung the door open. “Y/N?!”

The urgency in his voice tells you that he perhaps had the wrong idea of what was happening, it was really just a gash on your leg, although it was bleeding profusely, the cut must have been deeper than you thought. The maid had already placed a tourniquet to stop and slow the bleeding. You tried not to show it in your face, not wanting to alarm your lover any further, but it. hurt. like. hell. “Diluc, I’m fine, it’s just a gash,”

The maid that was previously sitting on the chair next to your bed moves away, Diluc replacing her, his eyes didn’t tear away from the wound on your leg, his expression contorted to that of worry and nervousness, before finally turning to your face, reaching a hand out to cradle your cheek. “Stop lying. You’re pale, you’re sweating--” of course he sees through you, he knows the second you get upset, knows every crease on your forehead and every slight furrow of the brow. He had memorized every inch of his beautiful, beautiful treasure. “Your hands are trembling, you’ve lost too much blood, where’s the doctor?!” He grips your hand at the realization that you might actually be in a more dire situation than presented, and just on cue the doctor comes through the door, asking for some time alone with you to do his job.

Diluc paces outside the door, unable to stay in one place for long. He kept thinking about how frail you looked. How, if you were unlucky, it wouldn’t have just been your leg. He shook his head at the thought. He didn’t know how he was going to let you out of his sight from then on. He knew full well it would annoy you to have him following you around everywhere but.... How could he not after this?

The doctor emerged half an hour later and explained that you just needed a bit of rest and that, with a little healing magic, you didn’t need the stitches at all. “Don’t let them use that leg for a day and they should be fine, it’s nothing life-threatening but they did lose a lot of blood and is going to need time to recuperate. They’re asleep at the moment,”

Diluc takes note of everything and quietly slips into your room. They must have sedated you in the process and he sighs as he plops down on the chair that was still placed next to your bed. His eyes soften at the sight of you finally relaxed and less in pain, hand reaching out to brush off strands of stray hair that blocked his view of your face. “You’re the only one who can scare me this much,” he mutters under his breath, as if complaining and he swears that he sees a very small and light grin on your face, as if teasing him. He smiles a little, just happy that you’re stabilized and leans in to kiss your forehead, opting to stay by your side till you wake up.

----------

Kaeya

“What do you mean unconscious?”

“J-Just as we said, Captain. They were unconscious when we found them,” Kaeya sighs in slight exasperation. Normally he was a jolly camper but when the knight in front of him is unable to say how injured you are, Kaeya gets a little wordy. “I meant to say why were they unconscious? Were they hurt? Where are they now?”

Kaeya stands. He was in the middle of some Favonius paper work. “They were bleeding profusely from the head,” Kaeya stops as if lightning has struck him and stares pointedly at the knight. “These details should be said early on,” he thought that it had just been something less threatening. Perhaps you had somehow passed out, exhausted, on your bedroom floor. Or perhaps had just rolled from the bed and onto the floor. They said that they found you in the bedroom, and his blood froze when he realizes that someone went in there to attack you.

Kaeya doesn’t bother talking the other knight into giving better reports next time, he’d do that later. He could guess that you were probably taken into the Favonius infirmary. Sure enough, when he walks in there, face scrunched up into what could only be described as worry and anger mingling together, you were awake, head bandaged up and your eyes meet. His heart breaks at how you still smile at him despite the fact that he wasn’t there to protect you. He stands next to the infirmary bed and gingerly touches your cheek, peering into your eyes. “Y/N, what happened?” he asks, eyes scanning the bandages wrapped around you. “Who did this?” and there was that angry and cold undertone in his voice that you rarely heard, as if his cryo vision had taken over his whole being.

“I’m sorry, Kaeya, I-- I can’t quite remember,” You put a hand up to cover half of your eye, your head was still throbbing and in quick realization Kaeya eases up on you and gently pushes you on your back to rest. “It’s fine, sorry, I just--” he cuts his own speech off and takes a deep breath in. Focus on the good. He tells himself. “I’m glad you’re alright, take it easy, I’ll take care of things,” By that he means he might just slaughter whoever even had the guts to break into your house and attack you in the middle of the day. The break-in was reported by townspeople, and Kaeya was sure as hell he’d get every witness to describe that asshole’s face.

“You’re staying with me for the moment,” he decides quite quickly, and you had no qualms with that whatsoever. Hearing that you had no protest at all, he grins and leans down to capture your lips in a soft kiss, afraid to hurt you. “No complaints? Perhaps this was your grand scheme all along to come live with me,” You can’t help but chuckle at how quick he bounces back. “Maybe, honey. Maybe,”

----------

Albedo

“Ow--” the knife clatters to the floor, as blood starts to pool around your finger. Albedo spins around at the meek sound you make, ignoring the knife on the floor and strides over to you just as you’ve turned on the sink and started running water on the small cut on your finger.

“Let me see,” You turn to him, blinking. His face was blank. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking but he was staring straight at you. “Oh, don’t worry, it’s just a small cut,” but he doesn’t waver and glances at the water running over your finger. “Let me see,” he tries again, this time rather forceful. That got you to obey. Turning the faucet off and awkwardly offering your hand to him.

He receives it and cradles it in his as if it was porcelain, upturning your hand to look at the small cut on your pointer finger. It was tiny. Really nothing compared to wounds that a knight might sustain. Albedo sighs and looks up at you, “Don’t go anywhere,” before stalking off, coming back a few seconds later with a first aid kit. “...Al, it’s alright, it’s not a big deal,” Albedo would only let one person give him a nickname. You. No one else. Frankly he thought the nickname was weird but if it danced on your lips, he didn’t mind it at all.

“Y/N, you’re mistaken if you think I’m going to take this lightly,” he takes out some ointment and a small roll of bandage, starting with the ointment. “Everything and anything that hurts you is a significant thing,” his gaze darkens, as if glowering at that microscopic cut. “Miniscule or massive, it doesn’t make a difference to me,” he starts wrapping your finger, “if it taints your skin, I cannot help but feel--” he doesn’t know the right word, but you do, judging from how his hold on your wrist tightens.

A soft smile paints your features at how he was such a worry-wart. Sometimes he was so bad at navigating his own feelings but you could decipher them anyway, from his actions. You let him worry over you, and thank him once he’s done. He finishes his work by taking your hand, and pressing it to his lips, his eyes darting up to lock on yours. That made you blush every damn time. His green eyes were just so mesmerizing, and so was his heart.

----------

Childe

Dear mother of the Archons, perhaps whoever was responsible for your injuries had some type of death wish. Everyone should offer prayers for whoever had cut you up. Your arms and legs were littered with small scratches from trying to run away from the attackers, you thought going through the thick forest was a good idea. In essence, it had slowed the thieves down. They had managed to throw a fire bomb at you that severely burned your right hand, and the right side of your abdomen.

Perhaps it was thanks to adrenaline running through you that you had actually managed to make it to the gates of Liyue, just before the bridge, but you’d crumpled down right then and there. The Millelith guards didn’t recognize you, but the three Fatui agents walking on the bridge did. “Someone had better tell him,” The group of Fatuis scrambled nearer to you, one of them picking you up, but glancing at the other who had just spoken up. “I’m not doing that, you do it,” it was slightly comical, seeing them pass off the duty of who was supposed to report to Childe about it. “You know how he gets when it comes to them, I’m not doing--” then one of them finally gets their bearings together.

“Shut up, get them to the healer first,” The tallest one shoves the one carrying you, urging him to go fast and off he went. Now it was just two Fatui agents looking at each other. Two Fatui agents who decided that they would just face his wrath together. “Sir,” one of them starts as Childe turns around to look at them. He actually had no tasks today and was just about to go off to find you. “About Y/N...” Childe’s eyebrows shoot up, what in the world could these agents have to say about you? “We’ve sent them to the healers, they collapsed at the entrance of Liyue, it... doesn’t look good...”

All hell descends upon Childe’s demeanor and poise. His face darkens, his eyes burning holes through the two agents and his fists closed up on his side. His bow appears and hovers behind him, the only thing that shone through his dark person. “The two of you--” he starts, “are going to find out who did it. I’m expecting a report by nightfall,”

Childe himself shows up at the healers quarters, and was told of your condition. “Their hand is going to scar,” keeps reverberating in his head. Like the sound that he imagines the skulls of those who dared touch you crunching under his feet, over and over again. Childe actually winces when he sees you. Small bandages on your arms and legs from the scratches, your right hand wrapped up adequately and, he couldn’t see it now, but he was sure your abdomen was wrapped too.

You cracked an eye open, feeling another presence in the room. Childe immediately appears next to you, leaning over the bed and watching your expression. “...It hurts, doesn’t it?” he asks, tracing over your bandaged hand. You remained quiet for a moment before nodding your head slowly. Just remembering it caused a blinding pain in your mind’s eye. You’d been given drugs to ease the pain now, but there were still traces of it lingering on your skin. “How dare they,” both your eyes snapped open at Childe’s nearly contorted voice, shadowed and overpowered by rage.

You pick up your good hand and touch his arm with the tips of your fingers. You didn’t like it when he got like this. “Childe, it’s alright,” far from it, but it was the only reassurance you could offer. He catches your hand and brings it up to his face, pressing your hand to his cheek as if it was a lifeline. “It’s not. It’s not,” he repeats to himself, his anger also stemming from the fact that he wasn’t there to protect you. “They’ll regret even laying eyes on you,” You knew he wanted to go now, knew that he wanted to get to the bottom of it, but you yet again pull your hand away to grasp at his shirt, the fabric scrunching up under your hold. “...But stay with me for tonight? Please?”

That got him. He would never say no. His form relaxes and he leans in to kiss your lips, gentle yet with a hidden hunger in them. “Of course,” he simply says, as if his previous agenda forgotten.

But he would never forget. He would never forget for as long as he could see that scar.

Tomorrow, he would decimate each and every one of them.

5K notes · View notes

mionemymind · 3 years

Text

Chapter 9: The Truth

Fake Memories

Series Summary: After Y/n is caught cheating on Wanda with Carol, Y/n would do just about anything to get Wanda back into her life. But was it even Y/n’s fault that she cheated? Or was it the new enemy set on revenge?

Chapter Summary: The after effects of the attack on New York have changed everything for the Avengers, Wanda, and Y/n.

A/n: I have managed to write this all within one day. I’m sorry if there are any mistakes but please let me know your thoughts love :) (Not my GIF)

Warnings: Fighting, Hydra, Blood, Mentions of Death, Anxiety, Curse Words

Word Count: 4.9k

Masterlist

Covered in ash, dirt, and dried-up blood, Steve was a walking disaster as he paced through the hospital waiting room. Well, if you would call it a hospital that is. It’s been less than an hour since the Avengers have controlled the fires in New York but the troubling news of Y/n and Wanda brought them to a halt.

They quickly rushed to the “hospital”, which was just an empty leased building before being revamped into a hospital for this emergency. The walls were made up of light green curtains. You couldn’t even separate the blood-curling screams from down the hall to the one next to you.

“Stop pacing Rogers. You’re making my head hurt,” Tony said as he sat next to his suit. He had managed to borrow one of the hospital’s tablets to see if there were any updates that could remotely be done to the tower. So far, no luck had been made to reboot F.R.I.D.A.Y or power up the building in general. “Don’t tell me what to do,” he bit back.

Before Tony could say anything, Natasha lightly elbowed him in the stomach to keep him hushed. Now was not the time to start fighting especially at a time like this. “Are you any closer to powering up the tower?” She asked. If Natasha was nervous, she sure as hell didn’t show it. While the assassin did have a similar beat-up look like Steve, her composure was almost too relaxed. However, if Steve cared to notice, he could quickly see how big of a lie that was but his mind was only focused on the two youngest Avengers.

On the other side of the building lied Wanda and Y/n. The only thing separating those two was the thin green curtain and the team of tired nurses and doctors that surrounded them. And while the two have been closer before, this was the first time in a while that they both slept peacefully by each other. It didn’t matter the circumstances of how they slept, but rather what they dreamt...and it was of each other.

“What do you think we would have been like if we lived normal lives?” It was a late afternoon on a sunny day in spring. Wanda and Y/n laid down in the grass under a tree that shadowed them from the sun. Today was one of their off days and seeing as the weather was nice, the two felt like it was a perfect time to go to the park.

“Well, we would obviously attend school.” Wanda was lying down on her back with a dandelion in her hand as Y/n laid on her side, using her left hand to support her head. “I can honestly see you as being the popular person or maybe even the President of some type of political club.”

“What makes you say that?” The soft breeze that covered them came once again, which blew the pappis away. The small frown on Wanda’s faced made it hard for Y/n to focus but she still responded, “You just have this powerful aura to you, Wanda. When you talk, people listen. But what you do better is how easy it is for us to believe you. That’s something not a lot of leaders can do.”

“You make it sound like I’ll be the next President of the United States,” Wanda replied jokingly. “I wish.” Wanda pushed Y/n back slightly as she laughed but all Y/n did was smile at the action. “But what about me? What do you think I would be like?”

Putting her finger to her chin, Wanda thought for a moment before saying, “Honestly, without your powers, you are probably a film nerd at heart. Maybe just a nerd in general.”

“Hey! Now you’re just being mean.” Wanda rolled her eyes as she threw away the dandelion stem. She turned her head to face Y/n. There was this adoration in her eyes that quickly made Y/n blush. “Who cares. All I know is if anyone decides to mess with you, they’ll obviously have to go through me.”

“Oh, so you’re telling me the President of the political science club is going to come to my rescue?”

“Duh! I’ll probably yell at them or something. If not, I’m not afraid to get nasty.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“How’d you let them get away?” Fury said as he walked into the hospital that Y/n was at. The man was not in his finest hour. First, the mass destruction of New York city was blasting on the news. Reporters and anchors are not looking in favor for the heroes regardless of the actions they’ve taken to try and minimize the damage. Many were angry at the mere fact that this happened at all.

“Someone on their team had quickly teleported them to safety,” Carol stated. The girl has been feeling nothing but guilt for the past hour. Although she did save Wanda and Y/n, the state she had found them in only did worse for her thoughts. “Even if I did try to catch up to them, the lack of response from Wanda and Y/n meant something. I probably couldn’t have faced them alone if I tried.”

Before Fury could have walked any further into the building, Carol grabbed him by the arm, forcing him to look at her. “Her ears were bleeding Nick...I think they did something to her head again.”

Wanda woke up with a slight headache, the dream vaguely on her mind. As she started to grasp her surroundings, she only grew more confused. “Where am I?” She thought. The loud beeping beside her combined with screams and loud thoughts overwhelmed Wanda. Feeling the need to get out, she quickly started to remove the various wires on her as the recent events caught up to her. “Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to lay back down,” the nurse asked kindly.

“Where’s Y/n?” Wanda almost lost her balance as she stepped off her bed. She used the nurse in front of her to regain her balance, before walking out of her “room”. “Ma’am, I’m not going to ask again, please lay back down or I will have to get security.”

The threat was the last thing on Wanda’s mind. All she could focus on was finding Y/n. Using her powers, she closed her eyes and tried to sense where Y/n was. Considering the girl was right beside her, it didn’t take long for Wanda to find out.

Quickly walking over to the side of her room, Wanda pushed the curtain to the side but the sight in front of her made everything stop. There was Y/n, battered and bruised. There was drywall dust on her face along with dried-up blood. “Y/n,” Wanda whispered in disbelief. Much to Wanda’s dismay, Y/n didn’t respond. She remained unresponsive on the bed.

Reaching out to try and hold her hand, Wanda was pulled back by the same nurse. “Ma’am, please let the doctors and nurses do their jobs while you go back to your bed.” Wanda shrugged off her hand, her eyes glowing red as she said, “Don’t.”

Wanting to be by Y/n’s side, Wanda tried to walk towards her again but Steve’s voice made her stop. “Wanda.” Turning back around, Wanda first noticed just how beat up Steve was. His helmet was off which made Steve oddly look like a raccoon. If times were different, maybe Wanda would have laughed. Instead, she stormed out of the room, feeling more overwhelmed.

“I’m sorry about her ma’am,” Steve said with a courteous nod.

Wanda sat on the ledge of the roof. The slight breeze of the night was coursing past her as she mindlessly fiddled with her fingers, a nervous habit she developed after her parents’ death. It was during a harsher breeze that Wanda touched her forehead where the slight open injury was at. She had left the floor just moments ago and somehow her feet led her here. Although she knew that she needed someone to look at the injuries she sustained, her mind was focused elsewhere. It was plagued with thoughts about the girl that was still entrapped in a room full of doctors that had no clue how to treat her. Wanda knew it was wrong of her to read their minds, but she hoped that at least one of them at least knew where to start. Panic and anxiety filled the redhead’s body the more she realized that no one knew how to help Y/n. Soon, the room felt as if it was enclosing on her. Before Steve realized she was about to break down, she left to sort out her thoughts and emotions.

Wanda had been so deep in thought that she hadn’t noticed Carol leaning against the entrance of the roof. The blonde was only a couple of feet away from Wanda wearing black sweatpants and a shirt. The girl was wrapping up a mission when she saw the text from Y/n. Carol didn’t know whether the drop in her heart was from the fake feelings Memory Man had created or whether she genuinely cared about the girl’s wellbeing. It didn’t matter though. What mattered was Y/n’s safety.

Carol leaned up against the ledge while surveying the view. They were a foot away from each other but it didn’t take a mind reader to know that both girls were thinking about Y/n. Ironically enough, they each had their separate thoughts about how they failed to protect Y/n. For Wanda, she felt as if she was the sole reason that Y/n got hurt. If she had only conquered her abilities more, Y/n wouldn’t have had to sacrifice herself again just to protect her. Not only that, but Wanda felt beyond frustrated with herself for being so frozen and paralyzed as the enemy hurt Y/n right in front of her eyes. There was nothing holding her back besides herself and that was something that will haunt her for a while. For Carol, she felt that if she were just a bit faster and maybe not a galaxy away, she would have reached them in time to help.

After a couple of minutes of silence, Wanda sidely glanced at Carol. The first thing she noticed was her attire. It didn’t take long for the dots to connect before she realized that it was Y/n’s clothes Carol was wearing. Wanda bit her tongue at the ounce of jealousy and resentment that decided to rise within her. This was no time to start arguments especially with the person that helped Y/n just in the nick of time. So Wanda had opted for a different but just as difficult route. “Thank you.”

Carol heard but decided to remain silent. Clearing her throat, Wanda continued, “I’m not sure what would have happened if you hadn’t found us.” Finally, the two made eye contact as Carol glanced at Wanda. “I’m only here for Y/n,” Carol deadpanned. Wanda choked at her words but still had a serious composure. They both looked back at the city but there was a more tense feeling in the air. Carol hadn’t cared if the words had hurt Wanda. What she cared for was Y/n. But the looming question in the back of her head was always if this was a genuine feeling or if it was forced. However, the way her heart overwhelmingly felt angered at the person beside her, she knew that at this time, the feeling was genuine.

Subconsciously, Wanda felt the emotions that leaked out of the blonde. She didn't need to go in her mind to realize that. It felt like Carol’s guard was down leading her aura to be seen. It had covered the area surrounding the two in such a suffocating manner that Wanda felt like she couldn’t breathe. The two most compelling emotions were the anger she held for her and the love she had for Y/n. As she cracked her knuckles, Carol muttered, “It is quite ridiculous the things Y/n continuously goes through for a team that can barely return the favor.”

“You don’t get to-”

“Now listen here. I don’t quite care much for your team. Frankly, y’all don’t deserve Y/n.” The two faced each other with such intensity that one wrong move could cause a fight with two of the galaxy’s most powerful superheroes. “But if I’m being honest, you don’t deserve Y/n.” Wanda’s fists clenched at Carol’s words. It took everything out of the redhead to not fling Carol out of New York, because how dare she accuse her of such atrocities.

“If I were you, I would stop where you’re at,” Wanda said threateningly. The spiral scarlet glow in her eyes only made Carol chuckle. “You know you’re not the only one with powers.” Carol’s fist glowed with the same intensity as Wanda’s eyes. But the threats were pointless as the two had stopped at the same time.

“You don’t see it but you should feel lucky Wanda.” Cocking her eyebrow, Wanda responded with, “And why is that?” The redhead remained in a defensive stance as she crossed her arms. Carol walked closer to her and placed her hand on Wanda’s shoulder. Wanda was still tense but it slightly faltered when she saw how serious Carol was. “There’s a girl out there that loves you even when her mind and heart tell her otherwise.” And with that, Carol left Wanda to herself.

The burning feeling in his legs shouldn’t have felt familiar but it did. It reminded him of the body that he held through New York’s streets. It reminded him of the blood all over his hands and clothes. It reminded him of that fateful night that he failed.

And as he stormed into the hospital with nobody in his hands, something in the way that the team looked made his blood drain. Before Bucky could ask about Y/n’s whereabouts, Beth had walked in. Seeing her familiar face caused Bucky to be slightly relaxed but still anxious about what she could possibly say.

“I have an update on Y/n’s health.” Carol had walked into the room and her attention immediately landed on Beth. “Tell us, Beth,” Fury said.

“As of right now, she will be fine. The doctors have her hooked up to a solution that is allowing her regeneration abilities to work. But-,” before Beth could finish her update, Tony had stood up and loudly commented, “- Great, now that we know Ms. Hydra is okay, can we get back to the real issue at hand?”

As Carol was about to advance to Tony, it was Beth’s words that made the room quiet. “Of course it would be the self-righteous billionaire that would talk shit.” Tony’s head snapped towards Beth. “Excuse me?!”

Beth glared back at Tony, not daring to back down. Her arms were crossed as she continued, “Don’t act like you can’t hear me, or is your ego too far high for you to actually listen?”

Walking towards Beth, Tony said, “Listen here you son of a-” Before Tony could get any closer to Beth, Bucky had used his arm to stop him. “I wouldn’t if I were you.” Tony forcefully removed Bucky’s hand from his chest. He stepped away from Beth, not wanting to deal with what he thinks of as just some pathetic nurse.

“You know what the real issue is Tony - actually - all of you. It’s the fact that you seriously think of Y/n to be this villain.” Beth had let out a dark chuckle at the irony of the situation. “Or have you forgotten the shit you’ve ALL done? Let’s name them, shall we?”

“Beth-” Beth glared at Bucky. She didn’t care if this wasn’t the time nor the place for this conversation, because God was she so tired of them. “Tony, remember all the weapons that you’ve created for mass destruction and have yet to actually own up to the consequences of them?”

“I would stop there if I were you before-”

“Before what?!” Beth said as she threw her hands up. “Before you sue me?! Before you attack me?! Oh - that’s it, isn’t it? What are you gonna do? Kill me? Like how you did with Y/n?!” The room grew more silent as everyone besides Bucky and Beth digested her words. “It’s honestly sad how a bunch of adults has managed to push a KID to take their life away. All for what?! Because you thought she cheated on Wanda! News fucking flash - she didn’t even fucking cheat.”

“What?” Steve said. The shock of Beth’s words was still affecting him. “It was Memory Man. He had put fake memories in Y/n’s and mine’s heads. That was the whole reason we kissed - wait - did you not know about this?” The team was frozen while Carol and Fury impatiently waited for answers.

Not caring to wait for their pathetic excuses, Beth said, “It’s not like it matters what they have to say. They don’t even care for Y/n but for those that actually do. Right now we have no clue what her mind is going to be like. Memory Man has already given her enough damages before and considering we don’t know the full extent of his powers, we can only wait till she wakes up to see if she will actually be okay. Now if you don’t mind, I have a patient to take care of.”

Before Beth could leave, Bucky grabbed onto her arm. He gave her a look but Beth wasn’t having any of it. Ripping her arm from his grip, she stated, “Don’t Bucky. You know how much your family has hurt her. So don’t just stand there and act like they’re saints especially since you know how much Y/n needed you.”

It’s been a couple of days since the attack in New York and Y/n has since woken up. She has barely spoken to Beth, Bucky, Carol, or Fury. Although Estell’s presence would have been welcomed, Beth has yet to tell the girl the news of Estell’s death. Unfortunately, during the attack, she was shot and killed on sight by Hydra. The only reason Beth knew was from the long list of deaths she read on TV.

“We need to transport Y/n to a different location,” Fury said in a small meeting that consisted of only Bucky and Carol. “I agree. Since Hydra has managed to infiltrate the tower once, who knows when they’ll do it again.”

“That’s why a different country will do her better than here.” Fury sighed at the decision that was laid upon them. New locations will always be hard to adjust to but that wasn’t all of it. “Wanda will remain as Y/n’s guard.”

Abruptly standing from her chair, the loud screeched filled the room. “Are you serious?!” Fury’s expression didn’t change as Carol only grew with rage. “She could hardly take care of herself during the attack. What makes you think she could possibly take care of Y/n?”

“The girl was simply outnumbered. We all were.” Moving to get the file that was beside him, he slid it on the table. Bucky grabbed it and had started to silently read it. “But I need the both of you on the front lines. After what Beth has said, I need you two to make sure that the team is actually doing their job. They were supposed to have found out about Hydra’s plans before the attack, now I’m starting to think they didn’t even try.”

Carol was still angry at Fury’s decision to which he sighed. “You will know of Y/n’s location at all times. I will let her have a remote that when activated should send you a signal. Since you’re back on Earth, you’ll get to her in seconds.” Carol sat back down in her seat. Although she was still mad at Fury’s decision, she felt better knowing that Y/n could signal her for help.

“Now, I need you to say your goodbyes for now. Y/n leaves in an hour.”

Wanda stood in the foyer of the hanger as various agents loaded up the quinjet with materials that she and Y/n would need for the time they were gone. She was informed of the last-minute decision just moments ago by Fury himself.

“Please take care of her.”

The words echoed in her head as it had been the only time she’s seen Fury actually care deeply for somebody else. Before she could ponder more about it, Beth had interrupted Wanda’s thoughts. “Wanda?”

Turning around to the source of the sound, Wanda stood in front of a young blonde woman with intense eyes. “I’m Beth,” she said as she held out her hand. Wanda reluctantly shook it, not quite sure as to who this lady actually was. “I’m Y/n’s friend.”

“Great, another pretty girl I have to worry about,” Wanda thought. “Well, I’m also her nurse but I think she would consider me her friend as well.” Wanda stood awkwardly not really knowing how to respond.

Using this opportunity, Beth handed Wanda a bag full of medicine and vitamins. “I know this will be a lot to ask of you but could you please take care of Y/n?” There was no doubt in Wanda’s mind that this girl in front of her meant well. The nurturing feeling in her aura surrounded Wanda.

“That girl has been through a lot and I would know.” Confused by the intensity of her words, Wanda couldn’t help but ask, “How do you know this?”

“I’ve been her nurse for a while now.” This news only confused Wanda even more. “Was she injured before the attack?”

“What is it with you guys and not knowing a single thing about Y/n?” Beth thought. She started to get irritated at the thought of another Avenger hurting Y/n. She could only hope Wanda was different from the rest. However, Wanda heard Beth’s thoughts and said, “What do you know that I don’t?”

Beth scoffed at the question and replied, “The truth.” The simplicity of her answer made Wanda internally roll her eyes. Whether she admitted it or not, she had started to feel territorial over the fact somebody else knew Y/n better than her.

“Wanda let’s go!” Fury yelled from afar. The two looked over and saw Y/n hug Carol, Fury, and Bucky goodbye. Oddly enough, she looked emotionless when she did it. “Just please don’t fuck up again.” Wanda didn’t answer respond back to Beth because if she did, something bitchy would have probably left her mouth. Instead, she walked over and into the quinjet. She buckled into the seat closest to Y/n but the girl didn’t give any attention to Wanda. She remained silent and focused on her hands for the whole ride while Wanda thought more and more about what Beth meant.

“Now that we’re all here let’s get started.” Fury turned on the projector and the first image the was on the screen was New York on fire during the attack. “So far, we’ve received word that there have been 125 casualties and approximately around 500 critical injuries suffered from the attack.” Click.

“However, we face a bigger number when it comes to those that are currently missing. Estimating from 600 - 1000 people are found to be missing. And since we have efficiently cleared the rumble from the damages, our sources have found out how they’ve gone missing.” Click.

Footage of the event was playing but in the location of the subways. One by one, explosions could be seen in various parts of different train passages. It didn’t take long for Hydra soldiers to infiltrate the train systems but all camera footage cut to black. “Hydra has effectively taken hostages of those that were on the train during that night. They have used bombs to blast any chance of us going after them in these tunnels.”

“Is there a way to locate the subways?” Steve asked. “Since New York hardly invests in their transportation department, they are unable to track any of their subways. More than likely, Hydra has already disposed of them in case they were to be tracked.” Click.

“What we need is to figure out where these people have gone. This many hostages taken is something we cannot allow. And considering we have hardly been able to figure out their plans before the attack, I can only assume the worse when it comes to this.” Fury turned the projector off and continued his speech.

“Bucky and Carol will be removed from their current missions to assist the team with this situation. There will be absolutely no complaints about this. Any signs of lack of cooperation, I will gladly remove you and ban you from missions indefinitely.” Fury looked around the team once more and felt disgusted at the people he has to work with. Giving them no time to reply, he left the room not being able to stand the sight of them anymore.

Since they were dismissed, part of the team left in a hurry until it was down to three people. Tony was about to leave when Steve said, “Are you going to apologize to Y/n?” The question was genuine and serious because ever since that night, Steve had been unable to sleep. All he wished he could do was apologize to Y/n but the girl refused to see him. Unfortunately, he understood why.

“Why should I? It doesn’t change anything.” Steve stood up and slammed the table with his hand. “We killed her Tony.” Tony walked in front of Steve. “I didn’t do anything,” he sneered.

“Steve. Tony. We need to calm down,” Natasha said as she watched the two go at it. “Don’t act so mighty Natasha. I heard you bullied the girl too.” This comment caused Natasha’s jaw to harden. “Aww, did I hit a nerve?” Tony childishly asked. “Oh fuck off Tony. There you go again bringing other people down when you can hardly accept what you’ve done. YOU took away Y/n’s funds. She couldn’t even afford anything.”

“But you watched me do it, Rogers. You could have done something too yet you let it happen. So don’t patronize me. Nothing of what she said changes anything.” Tony quickly left the room as he felt himself explode in anger. This didn’t even surprise Steve anymore. He was tired of keeping the family together when it was clear now that it was meant to be apart.

“Here we are,” Wanda said as she dropped her bags in the living room. Looking at her surroundings, the flat was a decent size. Two bedrooms, one bathroom, a kitchen, living room, and accommodations on the floor below them.

“So what do you-,” Y/n hadn’t responded to Wanda’s question as she zoomed past her and walked into her room. Softly closing the door shut, Wanda sighed at her reaction. It wasn’t a surprise but Wanda still couldn’t help but feel hurt by it all. “I guess I should start unpacking.”

It’s been a couple of weeks since Y/n and Wanda started to live together in the flat located in the small town of Edinburgh. While Wanda mainly kept the place tidy, Y/n remained in her room all the time unless it was to use the bathroom or to eat. The only time she would even dare to be close to Wanda was during dinner. If it was breakfast or lunch, Y/n would take what Wanda cooked for the day into her room.

But Wanda was stubborn. She always left Y/n little notes of her whereabouts anytime she left for an errand but a small compliment would always be at the end of it. Sometimes she would knock on Y/n’s door and ask if she would want to watch a movie with her. Obviously, Y/n never answered but Wanda continued to ask. Other times, Wanda would think of Y/n’s favorite foods and would cook them for dinner that night. And while Y/n had never said it out loud, the empty plate she left in front of her always made Wanda swell with joy.

However, tonight was going to be different. Usually, the two would sit in silence as Wanda would have the tv playing in the background but Wanda needed to hear Y/n’s voice. Not only that, but she was hoping that the truth would come out as well.

Trying to figure out a way to break the silence, it was oddly Y/n that had done it first. “Why don’t you hate me?” At first, Wanda was shocked that Y/n had actually spoken, but the girl regain her composure and said, “Why would I hate you? You’ve done nothing wrong.”

Y/n was silent for a moment until she said, “But I killed your brother.”

Chapter 10

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#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #fake memories

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americasass91 · 3 years

Text

The Shield and the Sweater

Hello lovelies! This little fic came to me when the lovely, beautiful, talented @stargazingfangirl18 asked a very important question on her blog. Would you rather be enemies to lovers with Steve Rogers or friends with benefits with Ransom Drysdale. Well my greedy ass wanted both. Thus the birth of this story. I also turned it around a little to make it fit into Siri’s 5k Soft Dark Challenge! I’ve never written anything dark before. Also not sure if this classifies as soft!dark or if it’s more dark. But it’s one of those! If that makes you uncomfortable, then please don’t read it. This is also my first time writing a threesome, so let me know if it sucks! I hope you enjoy it! 😘

General prompts:

8)The town golden boy isn’t as sweet as everyone thinks.

Dialogue prompts:

3)”Oh, honey, you weren’t supposed to see that.”

11)”I’ve waited a long time for this, sweetheart.”

Rating: Explicit(if you’re under 18, please leave)

Words: 6.2k(this one got away from me, sorry)

Warnings: soft!dark/dark themes, unprotected sex, anal sex, vaginal sex, threesome(M/M/F), manipulation, language, model!Ransom being an asshole, Steve not being who you think he is

“And I really think if everyone pitches in to make these changes, it’ll really make a difference in the long run.”

Wow, so this is how you were going to die. In your whole 20 something years of existence, you never thought boredom would be your cause of death.

Sure, you were the lead Accountant at Stark Tower and these monthly meetings were mandatory. But did you really have to be here to listen to Rogers go on and on about how we can ‘improve our working environment’? Why did he even care anyway? He was barely ever here as it is.

You must have been zoning out worse than you thought because next thing you know your coworker, Janet, is poking you in the side and pointing towards Steve.

With a quick glare sent her way, you move your gaze to the Captain. He is giving you the same look he always does. Like he’s disgusted with you. “I’m sorry Miss Y/L/N. Am I boring you?”

A scoff escapes your mouth. “No, not at all Captain Rogers. I just love when people who are never here seem to always have an opinion on how things are run and how they could be better.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “Do you have a problem with me, Y/N? Cause if you do, I’m sure there’s a way to solve that.”

You stand up and match his expression. You lean forward with your hands resting on the table. You can’t help but notice the Captain drops his gaze to your cleavage that’s now on more display than before. But just as quick as it was there, his gaze rises back up to meet your face. “Is that a threat, Captain Rogers?”

“Oh, it’s more than a-“

Tony quickly stands up and claps his hands together. “Okay! Meeting adjourned! You two, come here!”

You quickly straighten yourself up and make your way over to Tony. You always try to make sure you show him as much respect as you can. He’s your boss after all.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark. My emotions got the better of me. It won’t happen again.”

He nods to you. “Thank you, Y/N. I accept your apology. But what I’m not understanding is why Steve here wanted to fire you?”

You both turn to look at Steve who has a sheepish expression on his face. “Yeah, sorry about that, Tony. She just seems to bring out this ugly side of me. I’ll try to keep it more contained next time.” He then moves his gaze to you. “Sorry, Y/N. I promise to be more professional moving forward.”

He makes a quick exit, leaving you shocked that he apologized at all. Ever since you started here almost a year ago now, you’ve been at each other’s throats. It was your fault really.

It was your first week and you were in the break room grabbing some coffee when you overheard a few of your coworkers making fun of Steve for being a virgin. Now, you weren’t sure if it was true but you wanted to fit in so you made your way over to the group and asked if anyone calls him Captain Virgin. That earned you some big laughs. But the laughter died down quickly as Steve entered the room to grab some coffee. Judging by the glare he gave you, he heard what you had called him.

You went straight to Tony after that to apologize. You really didn’t want to get fired. But you wanted to make sure Tony heard the story from you before Steve got the chance to talk to him. To your utter surprise, Tony found the name hilarious and gave you a high five, saying you were going to fit right in.

Well long story short, it’s almost a year later and Steve is still getting called Captain Virgin. Oh but don’t worry, he has names of his own for you. His favorite is Tony’s Pet. For some reason, it really eats at you when he calls you that.

But the one thing you hate the most about Steve?

Is how utterly, hopelessly, and desperately attracted you are to the son of a bitch.

That happened in your second week when you went to use the complimentary gym and saw him beating the shit out of some poor punching bag. Your panties and your workout were definitely ruined after that.

The more you fought with Steve, the more you just wanted him to bend you over any surface and have his way with you.

It was despicable how horny you were for him. You were pretty sure all he’d have to do is snap his fingers and point to the floor in front of him and you’d happily drop to your knees and take him down your throat.

So that left you leaving work every day in a horny state. You started by taking care of it yourself when you got home. But after a while even that wasn’t cutting it. Then you started bringing home one night stands. But after the 4th disappointing non-orgasm, you gave up and just learned to live with it.

Sure, you could attempt to start being nice to Steve and maybe ask him out. But you were pretty sure he hated you. Plus you have way too much pride to actually do that.

So that leads to now. It’s Friday night and your workday is almost over. You’re inputting the last few numbers from the last expense report in your pile.

You get the last number put in when Janet approaches you. She sits on the corner of your desk. “So, you coming tonight?”

You take your glasses off and lean back in your chair, stretching your arms over your head. “Coming where?”

She rolls her eyes at you. “Oh, come on Y/N! You know we go out almost every Friday night. You never come and you always say you will!”

You start to clear off your desk and put things back in their place. “Yeah well I could. Or I could go home and sit on my ass and do nothing.”

“Well, that explains why it’s looking a bit bigger lately.”

Janet’s jaw drops as she directs her gaze at Steve, who is now standing in front of your desk.

You smirk and lean on your elbows towards him. “You like looking at my ass, Rogers?”

He scoffs. “Well when it takes up that much space, it’s hard not to notice. But here, I came to give you this.”

He hands you what looks to be a 10 page expense report. “Sorry it’s late, I’ve been busy, you know. Saving the world.”

You ungraciously take it from him and throw it in your to-do pile. “That can wait until Monday. I’ve got plans. We’re going to-” you look towards Janet for clarification. “Lavo.” You turn your gaze back to Steve. “Yeah, we’re going to Lavo. So this will wait til Monday if that’s okay with you, sir.”

Steve does his best to move his bag and jacket subtly towards the front of his pants so you won’t notice his growing hard-on. He hates how turned on he gets when you guys get into it. And then you call him sir? Jesus. He clears his throat. “Of course, I'm the one who turned it in at the last minute.”

Janet speaks up quickly. “You could always come with us! It’ll be fun!”

You grin widely at him. “Yeah! You could finally get your cherry popped, Captain Virgin.”

Steve can’t help the blush that covers his cheeks. “Uh, I can assure you my cherry has been popped since the 40’s. But thank you for your concern. And thank you for the invite, Janet. But i think I’ll stay in tonight.” He takes out his phone and sends a quick text before turning around and walking towards the elevators.

Wow. He didn’t even try to retaliate. You shrug your shoulders and grab your purse before standing up. “Alright, I’ll go! But on one condition!”

Janet claps her hands in excitement and starts walking with you towards the elevators. “Sure, anything!”

You press the button for the lobby. “You are going to be my wingwoman. Cause this girl definitely needs to get laid.”

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

Lavo is super packed by the time you guys arrive. Of course you all had to go home and change.

You decided to go with a simple, yet effective, little black dress that showed off just enough to get men’s attention.

Thankfully you are able to score the last table. The waiter comes over and gets everyone’s drink order. You decide to stick with your favorite. You don’t want to get too drunk on the off chance you find someone to take home.

About a half hour into hot office gossip, Lucy, who is sitting across from you, taps your arm. You raise your eyebrows in question towards her.

She subtly nods her head towards the bar. “Okay I’m pretty sure the hottest guy I have ever seen is checking you out.”

You can’t help the smirk that crosses your face. “Yeah? Which one?”

“You can’t miss him. He’s fucking hot. Like no comparison to any of the other dudes sitting up there.”

You glance down at your drink and quickly finish the remainder. You stand up and adjust your dress, pushing up your breasts in the process. “Well, then I guess it’s time for a refill.” You wink and turn to make your way towards the bar.

It doesn’t take long for you to spot him. And boy was Lucy not kidding. He was fucking hot. Brown hair, blue eyes, and a smug smirk that would normally turn you off. But on him it worked. And who even looks that good in a fucking cream colored cable knit?

You go up to the bar, not too close to Mr. Hottie of course, and patiently wait for the bartender.

Hottie McHothot not so subtly moves his gaze up and down your body. He must like what he sees. “Hey honey, have you ever raised chickens?”

Uh. That’s definitely not the first thing you expected to come out of his mouth. You look over at him with confusion on your face. “Uh, no. Why do you ask?”

He just shrugs his shoulders. “Just kinda figured you might. Cause you sure can raise a cock.”

Okay, you’ve definitely never heard that line before. You crack up. You’re pretty sure you even snorted on accident. Once you collect yourself you ask, “Has that line ever worked for you?”

The bartender makes his way over to take your order. After reordering what you had before, you turn towards Hottie and wait for his answer.

“Not sure, my buddy told it to me yesterday so this is the first time I’m using it. Did it work?”

You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t know. It was pretty cheesy.”

“Yeah, maybe. But it got you to laugh. So I’d say mission accomplished. Name’s Ransom. What’s yours, pretty girl?” He holds out his hand for you to shake.

Ransom. Now where have you heard that name before? You accept his hand shake. You can’t help but notice how much bigger his hands are than yours. Jesus. You could already feel your panties getting wet.

“My name’s Y/N. Ransom, that sounds familiar. Do I know you?”

He releases your hand and goes to take a sip of his bourbon. “Well, I guess that depends. Do you read magazines or have you seen the side of the city bus lately?”

You quickly wrack your brain. You don’t read many magazines. But the bus drives by you everyday on your walk to work. Holy shit! That’s it! He’s in his underwear on the side of the bus. You’ve drooled over that picture plenty of times.

“Oh, yeah! I remember now! I’ve seen you on the bus! What’s it an ad for? I can never really get past the almost naked man. A bit distracting on my way to work.”

He smirks as he briefly glances down at your breasts. “I’m glad you know my work. It’s an ad for Calvin Klein. For their new line of men’s briefs. Sorry I’ve been a distraction.” He sends you a wink.

Fuck. He was a model. And a popular one at that if he’s in an ad for Calvin Klein.

“I didn’t say I minded. You can make it up to me you know.” You wink back. Holy shit. Were you really flirting with a model?

“Yeah? Well, how about we get out of here and I’ll show you a fully naked man.”

Okay. Cheesy line number 2. Was that really going to work on you?

Yes.

Yes it was.

“Let me just go grab my purse.”

Drink forgotten, you go back to your table as quickly as you can without looking desperate. “Sorry, girls. But this is where I leave you.”

Janet glances down at her phone. “We haven’t even been here an hour yet! Where are you going?”

You send her a wink. “I’m leaving with that guy! You guys know him! Remember that ad on the side of the bus?”

They all turn their gaze to him. And they all make it very obvious. He just waves and sends them a smirk.

“Holy fucking shit! That’s the new Calvin Klein guy! Oh my god you lucky bitch!”

“Wait! Listen. We’ll let you go on one condition.”

You furrow your brows in confusion. “Okay?”

Janet gives you a naughty smirk. “On Monday I’ll need a report on if they had to stuff his briefs to get that delicious looking bulge or not.”

You give her a naughty smirk of your own. “I can totally do that.”

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

Monday morning you were all smiles as you stepped off the elevator and headed towards your desk. You give Janet a wink as you pass by her. She quickly makes her way over just as you sit down. “Um, excuse me hoe. But is that the same dress you were wearing Friday night?”

You quickly grab the cardigan you always keep in your desk out and put it on and button it up, attempting to look a little more professional. “Maybe.”

Janet opens her mouth in shock. “You stayed the whole weekend with him? You little slut! How was it?”

You turn on your computer and grab for the expense report of Steve’s you left in your to-do pile. Then you turn towards your nosy coworker. “Well, if you must know, yes. I did stay the whole weekend with him. And I’m pretty sure I was in an orgasm-induced coma the whole time. It’s all kind of a rough, sticky, mind-blowing blur.”

“Are you going to see him again?”

You shrug your shoulders as you put in your login information on the computer. “I haven’t decided yet. While the sex was the best I’ve ever had, he’s kind of an ass. Talked about himself and all the famous people he’s hooked up with since becoming a model. I honestly kept initiating sex just to make him shut up.”

She gives you a look like you’re stupid. “I’m not seeing the issue here. So what if he talks about himself a lot? The sex was amazing. You need to lock that down girl.”

You roll your eyes at her. “That’s the thing, Janet. He doesn’t do relationships. He told me so multiple times. Plus I’m pretty sure he was texting another chick in between our ‘sessions’. I suppose if I’m desperate, I’ll get a hold of him.”

“You know you could always just have him on backup for sex. Like a friends with benefits situation.”

“Janet, I’m in my late 20s. I’m too old for that kind of relationship.”

“Exactly, you’re in your late 20s! This is the perfect time for that kind of relationship before you settle down and get married! Have one last final hoorah!”

“I can’t have this conversation before caffeine. I’m going to get coffee. You act like I’m dying soon or something.” You turn to walk away but then remember you were supposed to tell her something. “Oh yeah and by the way. The bulge is definitely not stuffed.”

You give her a wink and then head to the break room for some much needed coffee. When you see who’s in there, you almost contemplate going downstairs to a different break room.

Steve is standing at the counter, preparing his coffee. He turns when he hears you come in and gives you a once over. “Well, look what the cat dragged in.”

You grab a mug out of the cabinet beside him. “Sorry my appearance isn’t up to your standards today, Rogers. I was a little...busy this weekend.”

He takes a sip of his coffee to make sure it’s right. Then he moves out of your way so you can get to the coffee, but still staying close. “Busy getting run over by a truck? Cause that’s kind of what you look like.”

You pour yourself a generous amount of coffee and take a long sip, letting the bitter liquid slowly make you human. “Yeah, well. I was busy getting fucked all weekend, Rogers. But I know your little innocent mind wouldn’t know what that’s like.”

That wipes the stupid little smirk right off his face. He almost looks pissed. He moves even closer to you. Almost pressing himself right up against you. So close that you can smell his coffee-scented breath. If you were wearing panties, they’d be ruined.

“Not all of us feel the need to sleep around. Some of us are looking for a real connection. Not just a one night stand of meaningless, mediocre sex.”

You press yourself just a little closer to him, his chest now touching yours. “Oh, it was anything but mediocre. Maybe if you actually got some, you’d know what that feels like.”

He leans his head down until his mouth is next to your ear, his left hand now resting on your hip. “You really need to stop insinuating that I’m a virgin sweetheart. If you were nicer to me, I’d show you that I know how to fuck.” With that he backs up and heads out of the break room.

You let out the breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. Jesus Christ. You swear you almost came.

And if you were nicer to him? Fuck him. He’s not nice to you either. That’s okay. You have someone who can scratch this itch.

You pull out your phone and send a quick text.

To: Fuckboi

You busy tonight? I could really use a release.

The reply came almost immediately.

From: Fuckboi

Didn’t get enough of my cock this weekend huh? I suppose I could make myself available.

You roll your eyes and quickly reply with your address and what time to be over.

The rest of the day passes by slowly. It takes you half the day to enter Steve’s expense report. God he’s descriptive. At least it’s completed. You can’t really say that much for the other Avengers. They usually half assed them and made them barely acceptable.

You are shutting down for the day when Steve approaches your desk. You remove your glasses and look at him expectantly. “Is there something I can help you with, Steve?”

A blush creeps it’s way across his cheeks. “Um, I was actually just wondering if you had time to go over the new expense report forms? They should be a lot easier to fill out.”

You glance down at the clock on your computer. Ransom is going to be at your place in about 20 minutes.“Can we do it tomorrow? I have company that’ll be showing up at my apartment in like 20 minutes.”

His hopeful smile falls. His face is now unreadable. “Would your company happen to be whoever you spent the weekend with?”

Confused, you grab for your purse after getting your computer shut down. “Actually, yes. Should I have asked your permission first?” You attempt a joke to ease the sudden tension.

He pulls out his phone and starts typing furiously. Wow. You weren’t aware he knew how to text. You hear it ping with a reply before he angrily puts it back in his pocket. “Sure, we can do this tomorrow. Wouldn’t want to get in the way of your whoreing around.”

Your jaw drops in surprise. Sure you guys were always throwing jabs at each other. But he’d never said anything like this before. And in such a mean tone.

You round your desk and stand right in front of him. “Fuck you, Steve.”

You hurry towards the elevators before he can see the tears that have welled up. You couldn’t let him know he had that power over you. Asshole. Thank god Ransom was coming over. Hopefully he could fuck what Steve just said right out of your head.

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

You’ve lost count of how many orgasms Ransom has pulled from you with his mouth when there’s a knock on your door.

Ransom looks up at you from his kneeling position on your living room floor. “Did you invite someone else to join us, pretty girl?”

You scoff and push him away so you can stand up. You pull your dress down as you make your way towards the door. “Yeah. I can barely handle just you. I’m pretty sure if we added someone else, I’d actually die.”

You open the door and gasp in surprise. “Steve? What are you doing here?”

He rubs the back of his neck nervously. “Look, I know you probably already have company but I felt really bad about what I said to you earlier today and wanted to apologize.”

You have so many questions. “How did you know where I lived?”

That sheepish smile makes its appearance again. “I may or may not have looked in your employee file.”

You shake your head. “And you felt the need to come all the way here and apologize? Why not just text me?”

“It would only have felt right to me to do it in person. I really am sor-”

You feel a pair of arms wrap around you from behind. “Well, who do we have here? Why is Captain America at your door?”

You turn your head to address Ransom. “He just came by to apologize to me. I think he was just leaving.”

Steve has a disappointed look on his face. “Yeah, I suppose I was.”

“Awe, what a shame. I thought you were gonna ask him to join us, pretty girl.”

Steve’s eyes grow wide at the thought. You quickly speak up. “No, I don’t think he’d be comfortable with that. He’s a little old fashioned.” You give him a sincere smile. You didn't think that was a bad thing.

Steve looks back towards the elevators and then back to you. He clears his throat. “What if I wanted to join you?” Seeing your wide eyed look, he quickly adds, “Only if Y/N would be comfortable with that of course.”

You contemplate what the consequences could be in your head. But then you get distracted when Ransom starts grinding his hard on against your ass. “Come on, pretty girl. Make a decision.”

The next word comes out of your mouth faster than what your brain can process. “Okay.”

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

Now you were standing awkwardly in your bedroom with Steve and Ransom looking at you expectantly.

You’ve never done this before so you’re not sure how this is supposed to go. “So, um. How do we start exactly?”

Ransom smirks and comes up behind you. “I think you should call the shots, pretty girl. If you’re okay with that, Steve?”

With the mention of his name, he walks towards you and places his hands on your hips. “I think that’s a great idea. Can I kiss you now?” He places his hand under your chin and raises your face up to meet his. “I’ve waited a long time for this, sweetheart.” With that, his lips meet yours. It’s explosive. You quickly wrap your hands around his neck and press yourself up against him.

You get so lost in the kiss, you forget that Ransom is there. That is until he presses his lips against your neck and presses himself against your ass. It presses you even further against Steve, making you feel his excitement against your lower belly.

You’re so overwhelmed already and you’d barely started. You may not survive this evening.

As you move your hands down to remove Steve’s shirt, Ransom is unzipping your dress, pressing kisses to every inch of exposed skin.

Without breaking the kiss, Steve moves his hands around to unhook your bra so he can get his hands on your breasts. He pinches your nipples, causing you to moan into his mouth. He moves his lips to your neck, sucking on your pulse point.

After successfully removing your dress, Ransom stands back up and turns your head to connect your lips. He starts rutting his clothed hard on against your naked ass. His left hand reaches around to bat one of Steve’s away so he can squeeze your breast.

Steve takes the hand that had been swatted away and moves it down to your soaking wet core. He starts lightly circling your clit. Just enough pressure to make you mewl.

You reach behind you with your left hand and tug at the waistband of Ransom’s briefs. “Off.” You moan out as you take your right hand and start attempting to take off Steve’s jeans. He smirks into your neck and helps you out. He barely gets them unbuttoned and unzipped before you’re reaching your hand into them and his boxers to grab his cock. It feels big.

Ransom grabs your left hand and places it on his now free cock. You wrap your hand around it and give it a squeeze before you start pumping your hand up and down. You do the same to Steve’s, making the both of them let out grunts against both sides of your neck. Steve increases the pressure on your clit a little. Still not enough.

“Nee-need, you. Please.” You weakly moan out. Ransom moves his mouth up to your ear. “How do you want us, pretty girl?”

You reluctantly pull away from both of them so you can think. You decide to be greedy. You point to Steve. “I want you to lay on the bed, please.”

He does as you ask. Putting his hands behind his head as he awaits further instructions.

You get on the bed and straddle him. You turn around and reach your arm out for Ransom. “Want you behind me.” You lean over and open your bedside drawer to grab the lube and toss it at Ransom. He smirks as he straddles Steve’s legs and gets behind you. He uncaps the lube and starts coating his cock with a generous amount. “Need my cock in that ass, pretty girl?”

You hold up your hand. “Wait.” You lean down towards Steve and give him a quick kiss. “Are you okay with this?”

He nods his head. “As long as you are.” You raise back up and smile at him. You turn your head and look at Ransom. “I’m assuming you're okay with this?”

He just smirks and squeezes some lube out so that it slides down the crack of your ass. “More than okay, pretty girl. Need me to stretch you out first?”

You smirk and pull him in for a quick, filthy kiss. “I think it got plenty stretched out this weekend.”

He matches your smirk. “You little slut. Wanting both of our cocks stuffing you full.”

You whimper as he lands a smack on your ass. Leaning up on your knees, you grab a hold of Steve’s cock and start running his tip up and down your folds. He places his left hand on your right hip and his right hand on your left thigh. “Condom?”

You quickly shake your head and pause your actions. “On the pill. Unless of course you’d be more comfortable with one.”

He shakes his head. “No, just making sure.”

You turn back to Ransom. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready for you.”

He nods and places his hands on your shoulders, waiting somewhat patiently.

You slowly sink down on Steve’s cock. He’s stretching you out so deliciously. It burns in just the right way. Ransom may be longer, but Steve is definitely thicker.

After you get fully seated on him, you take a minute to adjust. It only takes a few seconds. You turn your head towards Ransom. “Okay, I’m ready.”

He removes his right hand from your shoulder and grabs the base of his cock and starts pressing against the tight ring of muscle. He’d been in there a lot over the weekend. But it was still a tight fit regardless. He doesn’t go as slow and sheaths himself to the hilt, causing you to moan out in slight pain and pleasure.

Holy fuck. You feel so full. You think you might die. That is until Ransom removes his cock until just the tip remains and then forcefully thrust back in, causing you to grind on Steve’s dick.

Steve grunts out from the movement and starts thrusting up into you the best he can from his position. Ransom wraps his left arm around you and continues his thrusts, not letting up his pace. You don’t even really have to move, the both of them doing it for you. They somehow find the perfect rhythm. Each of them pulling out and pushing in at the same time. One of your hands is behind you, resting on the back of Ransom’s head while the other is resting on Steve’s chest.

Steve sits up suddenly and pulls you in for a kiss. “Like being stuffed with both of our cocks, pretty girl?” You hear from behind you. “Yes. So good. So full. Gonna cum.”

Ransom removes his arm from around you and reaches down and starts circling your clit. “Do it. Cum all over us. Make a mess.”

Steve can feel you squeezing him. “Please, sweetheart. Need to feel you cum on my cock. You’re gripping me so good.”

You explode. You clamp your eyes shut, seeing stars behind your eyelids. You let the both of them fuck you through it.

Ransom’s hips stutter. The fluttering around his cock is too good. He cums with a shout of your name, filling up your ass to the brim. He gives you a few more thrusts before he pulls out and collapses beside you two.

Steve’s been patient while you come down from your high. He lays back down, pulling you with him so that your chest to chest. He bends his knees and grabs onto your hips. “You ready, sweetheart?” You raise up, both of your hands on each side of his head. You give him a nod.

That’s all he needs. He starts fucking you, hard and fast, chasing his release. He can feel it building. He just needs to feel you come undone around him again. He moves one of his hands and starts circling your clit with his thumb. “Need you to cum for me again, Y/N.”

You shake your head. “Can’t. Too much.”

Ransom sits up beside you. “I know what she needs.” He reaches over with his left hand and wraps it around your throat, squeezing gently.

It makes you clench down on Steve’s cock. “Yeah? That all you needed, sweetheart? A hand wrapped around your pretty throat? I know you like it. Can feel you squeezing me.” He picks up his pace. The only sounds that can be heard are his grunts, your breathy monas, and skin slapping against skin.

It doesn’t take long for your orgasm to hit you. This one is somehow even more intense than the last.

You must’ve blacked out for a few seconds because the next thing you know, you’re waking up in between Steve and Ransom.

Steve smiles down at you. “There she is. We lost you for a second, sweetheart.”

You feel drunk. You smile goofily up at him. “Did you cum?”

Just as you ask that, you can feel his release seeping out of your overused cunt. Then you feel cum leaking out of your ass. You hide your face behind your hands in embarrassment. “I can’t believe we just did that.”

Ransom removes one hand while Steve removes the other. “Nuh uh uh. No hiding allowed, pretty girl. I have no regrets.” He looks at Steve. “Do you?”

Steve smiles down at you and leans down to press a soft kiss against your lips. “None from me. You tired, sweetheart?”

You let out a big yawn and nod your head, slowly closing your eyes. “Get some rest, pretty girl.” That’s the last thing you hear before sleep takes you.

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

You wake up sometime in the early morning, stretching out your sore limbs. You know you have a dumb smile on your face. But you can’t help but notice your empty bed.

You sit up and hiss at the deliciously sore feeling between your legs. You grab your robe and slip it on. You can smell coffee coming from the kitchen. You giddily make your way out of the room and down the hallway. They both barely just come into view, still unaware you’re there, when you hear Steve speak.

“I thought you were going to be an asshole to her? Make her see I’m not that bad.”

You hear Ransom next. “I was an asshole to her. I’m sorry I dicked her down so good that she wanted more.”

Steve scoffs. “I never gave you the okay to fuck her!”

“You also didn’t tell me it was off limits. Look you got what you wanted right?”

“No, actually I didn’t. I didn’t pay you so we could have a threesome together.”

What the fuck? Steve paid Ransom to help him get in your pants?

“Ok, how about this? I’ll give you all of your money back if I can fuck her one more time before I go? Then we’ll be squared away.”

Steve seems to be conflicted. “Fine! But this is the last time Ransom. I have to get to work anyway. After this, she’s mine. And make sure she’s not late for work herself.”

Before you have time to react, Steve rounds the corner and sees you standing there. He has a deer caught in headlights look. Ransom comes up beside him and sees you. “Oh, honey, you weren’t supposed to see that.”

You slowly start backing up towards your bedroom. Steve moves towards you, stopping once you put your hands up. “Stay away from me! Both of you! I want nothing to do with either of you!”

Ransom moves past Steve and grabs onto your arms. “Oh, please. You’d fuck us again if we wanted. Wouldn’t you?”

You spit in his face. “Fuck you, Hugh.”

He gets a sinister look on his face. “Wrong move, pretty girl.” He looks toward Steve. “Don’t worry, I’ll fuck the brat out of her. You better tell her boss she won’t be in today.”

Your eyes go wide at his words. You start thrashing against him, trying your best to get away. Steve has had enough. He comes over and yanks you away from him and presses you against the wall. “You better calm down, sweetheart. I’ll treat you like a princess if you can be my good girl. Can you do that?”

You shake your head. “Why would you think I’d want anything to do with you after finding out you paid someone to help get into my pants?”

He gives you an evil smirk. “Because if you don’t, I’ll just have to release the tape of last night on the internet. Let everyone see how much of a slut you actually are.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “You’re bluffing.”

He smirks and turns his head towards Ransom. “Show her.”

Ransom gets his phone out of his pocket and swipes at the screen for a second before turning it in your direction.

Holy shit. They weren’t bluffing. There you were, getting fucked by the both of them. That would ruin you if it got out. Not only would you get fired, but your parents would probably disown you. You’d never have a normal relationship again. You’re fucked. Even more than you were last night. How had you not noticed they were recording it?

Ransom must have read your mind. “I set my phone up while you were busy with Steve’s fingers on your cunt and his tongue down your throat. I think you need to ask her again Steve.”

Steve grabs your chin and moves your gaze onto his face. “I’ll ask you again. Are you going to be my good girl? Let Ransom fuck you one more time and then it’ll just be me and you?”

You drop your gaze to the floor. You feel a tear run down your cheek as you whisper out, “I’ll be your good girl.”

Taglist: @stargazingfangirl18 @drabblewithfrannybarnes @harrysthiccthighss @lllols @patzammit @quxxnxfhxll

Steve Taglist: @donutloverxo

#captain america #dark!steve rogers/reader #dark!steve rogers smut #model!ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale smut #siris5ksoftdarkchallenge #this sweater wearing menace #shield throwing daddy #steve rogers smut #steve rogers #chris evans #chris evans smut #steve rogers x reader

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whoacanada · 4 years

Text

Zimbits - Bartender!Jack + NHL!Bitty AU

Prompt: Retired NHL player Jack Zimmermann takes ownership of a sports bar in Pittsburgh and accidentally falls for the Penguins’ (closeted) new left winger.

A/N - just the start, I’d like to get around to more of this; the basic idea was an It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia AU, but I couldn’t manage to make everyone that terrible so Jack owns and operates a gay sports bar and starts crushing on one of his patrons.

“Can’t believe you’ve owned this place since ’89.” Jack coughs, waving the dust away from his face. “Did you ever come back after we moved home?”

It’d be disingenuous to say Jack had been expecting anything other than cigars and whiskey when his father had invited him on a trip down to Pittsburgh to see Mario and glad-hand some Penguins sponsors. In fact, he’d kind of been looking forward to sulking and getting shit-faced, not limping around a condemned building dodging roaches and rats.

“It was an investment opportunity. That was the trend back then, famous athletes buying up restaurants and clubs — I had big plans for this building. Then your mother got pregnant and I realized I didn’t really give two shits about running a nightclub.”

“Realized you were pretty lazy, huh?”

As Bob laughs, Jack picks at the peeling, lacquered bartop, trying not to imagine how many decades of grime he’s just collecting under his nail, the situation made even more disgusting in such close proximity to the glittering gold championship ring his father had insisted he wear to their lunch meeting with the Penguins front-office suits. Jack flicks the gunk away as Bob levels him with a weighty look, hands braced in the air as if outlining a play and not offering a tour of a cobweb-filled dive.

“Here’s my thought,” Bob says. “The bar. It’s yours.”

Jack leans against the counter, taking some weight off his braced leg, and asks, “What’s mine?”

“This place,” Bob gestures around the room. “The whole building. It’s just sitting here, empty, the bar, the liquor license, there’s apartments and office space upstairs, we’d just need to do some renovations and —“

Jack can’t help himself. He barks a laugh and says, “I’m not moving to Pittsburgh.”

“How many times have you and I talked about opening a sports bar? I’d wanted to get this place fixed up so it’d be ready when you retired, but since the final — you could make it a gay bar, even, if you wanted!” Bob says quickly, offering another awkward olive branch. “A gay sports bar. I wouldn’t care.”

“A gay sports bar. In Pittsburgh,” Jack echoes, reaching for a chirp to defend himself, but he closes him mouth as he realizes a sports bar run by a Zimmermann might not be a terrible investment idea. “The building needs a ton of work,” Jack settles. “I just saw a rat.”

“That was a mouse,” Bob dismisses, not bothering to look at the rat still clearly in view. “Nothing that can’t be fixed. Got a dollar?”

Jack pats his pockets, finds a spare looney and hands it over. Bob doesn’t hesitate, pulling an envelope out of his back pocket to exchange for the coin.

“Congratulations. You are now the proud owner of,” Bob looks around helplessly. “I actually don’t know what they call this place now. A Bar?”

“I’m sure we’ll figure something out.” Jack swallows against the tightness in his throat, holding the deed carefully in his hands. “Thanks, Dad.”

Bob brings Jack in for a loose hug and they both ignore the soft squeaking coming from the backroom.

Five Years Later

There’s a man examining the announcement board in the vestibule, and Jack knows that posture: the forward hip cant, thick thighs, a small but definite bubble butt — guy’s a hockey player, and he has been for some time.

“Hey. Hi.”

Blondie spins around at Jack’s address. Not quite startled, but something close enough that Jack feels a twinge of guilt. “You interested in playing in our beer league? You look like you might know your way around a rink.”

The man quickly looks at his chest, as if expecting to find something displayed, but relaxes immediately. Jack fights a grin, he was once old hat at wandering into public spaces decked out in identifiable team merch.

“Bitty.” The man squares up to offer his hand; his accent is warm and distinctly southern, not at all what Jack was expecting. “You can call me Bitty.”

“Oh, with a nickname like that, you have to play, now, no excuses,” Jack gives Bitty’s arm a firm shake, surprised at how complementary his grip is; not just an overcompensating bro who’s walked into the wrong club.

“If only I had the time,” Bitty placates wryly. “Is this place new?”

“Been here a few years, but not long. How about you? Are you ‘new’? In town, I mean.”

“Moved for work,” Bitty’s smile is timid, eyes darting around the room looking for other patrons, up at the memorabilia and the various pennants. “First year. Slowly learning the area.”

Jack doesn’t miss the way Bitty’s eyes linger on the Pride flag draped from the second floor railing, but Bitty doesn’t mention it, and Jack isn’t in the business of prying.

“Let me be the first to welcome you to The Bar.”

“I saw that outside, do you not have a name?”

“We weren’t creative. The owner didn’t realize he was filling in the wrong line on the business license so we are literally called ‘The Bar’.”

“That’s actually pretty solid,” Bitty laughs, the sound lifting Jack’s mood easily. “I’ll have to make sure I come back and patron your establishment at a reasonable hour.”

“What you aren’t interested at getting sloshed before noon?”

Bitty laughs, and Jack is enough of an adult to recognize he’s got a tiny bit of a crush.

______

True to form, Bitty slowly becomes a feature of Jack’s early afternoons. The first few weeks, he does little more than quietly purchase a single domestic beer before tucking himself away in a corner booth, hunched over his phone, ball cap pulled low for discretion. Jack gives him space, and aside from a few curious regulars, Bitty is little more than another closeted young man seeking quiet sanctuary.

That is, until, hockey kicks up and Mario hooks Jack up with season tickets beside the bench. It’d taken time for Jack to get comfortable with being in an arena again, especially without the ability to step onto the ice himself, but he’s acclimated and learned to appreciate his new lot in life. He can be happy for his success and mourn the end of his career with equal measure.

(Doesn’t hurt he still gets asked for autographs on the regular.)

Bittle, the new forward traded out of Columbus, spins to whip the puck between Lundqvist’s thighs and the score is 3-2 with a minute left in the third. Jack stands to cheer with the crowd as Bittle’s pulled into a celly with his line mates, and the new angle gives Jack a good look at the man’s sunny face, complete with a familiar, bright smile and missing canine. Jack’s heart leaps into his throat when he realizes Bittle is ‘Bitty’, and Jack can’t help but cheer louder.

________

After the game, Jack does his homework. Pulls up stats pages and articles on Eric Bittle. Looking to link the quiet hottie from his bar with the energetic man he saw tonight on the ice. If Jack wasn’t in love before, he absolutely is after watching highlights from Bittle’s time in Columbus.

The next time Jack finds Bitty slipping into the bar, probably between practice and a good nap, Jack makes his move; filling a pint glass, wedging an orange slice on the rim, and adjusting his shirt before striding to the corner booth as easily as one can with a titanium femur.

“On the house,” Jack says, setting down the glass gently. “Choice goal, Tuesday. Great bounce.”

Bitty’s grateful smile falters, turning into something guarded.

“What goal?” Bitty asks, voice steady, and Jack’s immediately alerted to his misstep. Jack casts a careful eye around the room and doesn’t find anyone watching, kicking himself for not thinking this through. He’s used to playing this game with guys who aren’t quite comfortable, who might be visiting with the wrong people, but he hasn’t had to do the closeted-pro-athlete dance in a while.

“You know, I must have been mistaken.”

“Happens all the time. Very sweet of you, though.” Bitty apologizes and pushes away the beer, but Jack waves him off. It’s the least Jack can do for calling the guy out.

“I should have known,” Jack tries to recover. “You’ve still got all your chiclets. But, between you and me, Bittle’s a spitfire, eh? Crazy soft hands. I’d like to meet him someday.”

Jack whistles low, rapping his knuckles on the table before turning back to the bar, moving slowly enough he catches the way Bitty’s cheeks flare pink at the compliment.

About thirty minutes later, Jack, half focused on counting down the till, nearly misses Bitty’s exit. He looks up to offer a parting wave, and Bitty returns the gesture, flashing a shy, incomplete smile; one canine missing on the left side.

________

“Anything new to report? Sales look good, think you might be able to take some time off and visit your poor parents?”

Jack slides open a window to let some air into his bedroom, not for the first time wishing he’d taken the chance to tear out a wall and convert a corner of the top floor into a balcony. There’s still time — his father never seems to wary of giving Jack renovation loans — but Jack loves his condo and hates the idea of relocating again, even temporarily.

“New distillery opened, cut a deal on some local gin. We’re working on drink specials, if you have any ideas for names I’m open,” Jack eases onto the windowsill and looks down at the line of people waiting to get into the bar. “And I met someone. Think he might be a hockey player.”

“No shit? Beer-league?”

“NHL.” Jack corrects, an edge of caution in his tone he knows his father won’t misinterpret. “Started coming around a few months ago, gave me a fake name. Went to a game last week, scored right in front of me.”

“Well, you going to tell me who or am I going to have to guess?”

“He’s keeping to himself,” Jack holds the curtain steady to catch sight of a particularly flashy person in a glittering teal gown, texting Holster to snag a photo for the bar’s Instagram. “Don’t go hunting.”

“Well, if he needs any help you let me know.”

“What could you do?”

“I don’t know. Talk to . . . someone. I guess.”

“I’ll keep that under advisement.” Jack placates, smiling at the saucy photo Ransom texts back immediately of Holster lifting their favorite Drag Race runner-up above his head like something out of Dirty Dancing.

“So.”

“Mmm?”

“Does this mean you’ve got a little boyfriend, again?”

Jack leans out over the railing and tries to see if the universe has blessed him with a sighting of his favorite new Left Winger. Sadly, it’s Saturday evening and the Penguins are in Dallas, so no Eric tonight.

“Working on it.” Jack offers, rapping his knuckles lightly against the window sill and trying not to think about the way Bittle’s face lights up when he sees that Jack is working. “Think I might really have a shot at something.”

“Well, you know what Wayne always says.”

“I do,” Jack breathes, pressing his forehead against the cool glass, taking in his one-of-a-kind view of the city. “I’ll let you know how it goes. Once he gets back.”

“ — You know, I’ve got the game on right now. I bet you $1000 I can tell who you’ve got the hots for. You have a specific type — ”

“Papa.”

“Okay, I won’t.”

“Thank you.”

“But it’s the kid we just got from the Blue Jackets, isn’t it. Bittle? You always like the fast ones — ”

“Goodnight, Papa.”

#bar au #jack zimmermann #NHL!Bitty #zimbits #Zimmermann #retired Jack #zimbits fic #look I wrote a thing #it's only been forever #my fic #my stuff #omgcp #check please

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nikethestatue · 3 years

Text

La Dolce Vita

Part II

On the Wings of Desire

Warnings: Language

(I had to split this chapter into two because it was getting too long. Hence, no sexy times, but angst galore) Comments and reblogs and likes are always appreciated! Let me know what you think.

Chapter One is here

Two Years Ago

Azriel

Azriel pulled up to the flower shop.

There was a surprise that he wanted to share with Elain, and like a young boy on his first date, he was both excited and nervous. But he hoped that she’d like it. Funny how he still got a little nervous with her, exuberant even.

It’s been three months since they’ve met and he loved every minute that they’d spent together. The nature of their relationship was a little undefined, but he didn’t care. So what if they weren’t ‘dating’? So there weren’t official dinners and outings, to show only the best part of each other to one another? They moved beyond that right away. They simply loved being together. It was inexplicable, how quickly it happened, how easy it was between the two of them, but Azriel could never get enough of Elain.

He came to her shop whenever he wanted, helped her out, hung out with her, and she went to the garage to meet him. If he was busy and couldn’t meet with her, she closed her shop for lunch, and brought him a sandwich, so they could eat together. He loved it, even if he actually had a restaurant and a bar on premises and she technically didn’t need to buy him food. But there was something special about her coming up the stairs to his office, dressed in one of her cute, flowery dresses and heels. Every time it was a different sandwich, a different drink and a different snack—sometimes a cookie, or good chocolate, or weird chips, or a full-on pastry with cream and ganache and whatnot. He developed a strange fascination with his lunch options, never knowing what it would be and eagerly anticipating it.

Sometimes, he took her on long rides—one of their favourite past times. If he knew that she was up to her eyeballs with orders, since this was summer and it seemed like everyone was getting married, he would bring her takeout to the shop, and they’d sit and arrange flowers until the wee hours. When things calmed down, and there was a quiet evening ahead, she usually invited him to come and eat at her place. They cooked together, drank wine, and then went for a walk.

They haven’t had a kiss yet.

Did it bother him? He’d be lying if he said that he didn’t dream of Elain all the time, of her supple, soft body, of how she’d look naked, of how she’d feel when he filled her, what sounds she’d make, what her face would look like when she climaxed around him? Was she a screamer? A beggar? Was she loud or quiet and shy?

She never spoke of her past boyfriends, so he had no idea of how many men she’s been with. Secretly, he hoped that it wasn’t too many. Maybe it was some male thing, but the idea of her with another man, the thought of someone else touching her, making her moan, making her love—it didn’t please him at all. He thought that he was more modern, more advanced in his thinking—and usually he was—but in this case, he was struggling with accepting Elain wrapped around some other male.

Surprisingly, even though it wasn’t even 6 pm yet, the flowers that usually spilled outside the shop were not gracing the pavement and the shop looked closed for the day. But Azriel went and knocked on the glass door anyway, seeing as there was some light coming from Elain’s office in the back. There was no response, but he knocked even harder, almost banging, until he heard Elain’s muffled voice yelling, “we are closed!”

“Laney, open up! It’s me!”

A few moments later, Elain appeared in the darkness and then the door opened.

And his jaw almost dropped.

She stood in front of him, wearing a slinky, satin, cobalt dress that looked almost like lingerie. Of modest length, it nevertheless emphasized her breasts very enticingly: soft and full, and pushed together just enough to create a hint of delicious cleavage. A simple set of glittering silver chains nestled seductively in that yummy valley between her breasts. One bare foot was clad in a strappy silver sandal, while she held the other, and jumped awkwardly on one foot, balancing herself on the doorframe. Her hair was curled and arranged over one naked shoulder.

He struggled to keep his breath from whooshing loudly.

“Whoa…”

“Hi Az,” she sounded…uncomfortable.

“Hey you. Hot date?” he chuckled, eyes gliding from her pretty toes up to her eyes.

Her throat bobbed and she didn’t answer.

Shit.

He fought the urge to cross his arms on his chest. But then he’d look threatening, towering over her, much like his father did when he was in one of his moods. Azriel swore to himself long ago to never, ever cross his arms with women.

“I didn’t think you’d be coming over,” she began, voice wobbling.

“So, you figured that you could sneak out?” he spat unkindly.

“I am not sneaking out!” she snapped, flushed and defiant. “I am going out,”

“With whom?” he demanded.

He and Elain had never fought. Never even disagreed.

They laughed together. They joked and discussed. They argued over books and movies. They talked about design, food and travel, places they wanted to visit, and things they wanted to see. Elain randomly texted him names of 3 and 2 Michelin star restaurants from all over the world, telling him where she wanted to dine, why, and eagerly opining on the menus.

Elain was his.

His little foodie, who was a fearless eater, and sampled just about everything and anything.

Elain was his.

His little art lover, who had a surprisingly wide breadth of knowledge of painting, art history and strong opinions on artists and styles. When he found out that she adored Balthus and that Egon Schiele was her favourite artist of all time, his respect for her only increased.

Elain was his.

His little intellectual, who read Anna Akhmatova’s poetry, listened to Alain Elkann’s podcast, and who could easily talk about the history of Lamborghini or Aston Martin, and Formula 1, just to satisfy him.

What the fuck was this?

Why was his Elain going on some date with another man?

Anger rose in him so quickly; he had a difficult time stopping his hands from shaking. So, he clasped them behind his back.

“It’s none of your business,” she said coldly. “I don’t have to report to you who I am going out with,”

“You don’t?” he demanded absurdly.

“No, I don’t!”

“Please tell me who he is?” he decided on a different approach. His brain was working furiously, trying to dissuade her, yet not anger her, yet find out as much information as possible.

“No!” she shook her head stubbornly. “Why do you even care?”

Why did he care? WHY did he care?

He couldn’t have been misreading all the signs. He couldn’t have been misreading her interest, her acceptance, her want.

There was no doubt in his mind that she wanted him—emotionally, as a friend, as a partner, as a lover. Reading people was his job, his calling, and he’d never been wrong. He certainly wasn’t wrong with Elain—she was an open book to him. He didn’t need to evaluate her reactions to his company to know that she was absolutely enthralled with him.

So why this?

Was it something he did? There were no hints of anything amiss the last time they’d seen each other. They were at her place, they cooked Italian together—spaghetti and clams—and he opened a bottle of Petilia Greco di Tufo, a pure, harmonious white from Campania. Then they went to the rooftop—their favourite place—and watched the city, enjoying gelato and playing cards.

Squeezing his hands behind his back, he demanded, “Has he been vetted?”

“Vetted? Vetted?” she exclaimed incredulously. “Who is going to be doing this vetting?”

She stared at him and bit out,

“I don’t like this side of you. This is crazy behaviour,”

“Why? Because you are going on a date? Suddenly. Unexpectedly.”

At that, she blushed furiously, squirming under his heavy, icy gaze.

He continued, “And with some guy you refuse to tell me anything about. Have you told Cass?”

“What? What exactly is Cass? My father?”

“Cass runs security for,”

“I know what Cass does!” she cried, looking furious, but also uncomfortable. Insecure. Anxious. “But I am not telling him. Leave me alone. I am not telling anyone,”

“Not even Nesta? Elide?” he demanded. “And what if something happens?”

“What’s going to happen?!” she asked nervously.

Nothing.

Probably nothing.

He was being an overbearing creep, but he couldn’t stop.

He needed to know. And yes, he wanted her to be safe.

“Who knows?” he shrugged menacingly. “He is unvetted. No one knows anything about him. Have you even Googled him?”

She blushed.

That’s a no.

“Unless you tell me his name, I am not leaving,” he warned. “I need to know who you are going to be with.”

“I am not telling you.”

“Fine,” he propped himself against the door. “We’ll just stand here.”

“Fine.”

The standoff continued for another few minutes, until, exasperated, she blurted,

“His name is Dorian!”

“Dorian. As in Dorian Gray?”

She rolled her eyes. “How funny.”

He took out his phone and asked, “Does Dorian have a last name?”

“Are you seriously going to Google him?”

“Absolutely I will. Since you didn’t.”

“I am not telling you.”

“Fine,” he shrugged. “I’ll await Dorian’s arrival and have a man-to-man talk with him,”

She paled.

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“Watch me.”

She glared at him, and then sneered, “Why don’t you invite Lorcan too! And Rowan. So the three of you can stand here, in your freaky silent vigil and glare at him, to scare him off.”

“Good idea.”

She shrugged, “And when Dorian comes here, you three can tower over him.”

“Why? Is he tiny?” Azriel snorted.

She rolled her eyes and then thrust her foot into her other heel, finally. As she tied it around her ankle, she muttered angrily, “so disappointed in you,”

“Get in line,” he snapped.

“Adarlan,”

“What?”

“His last name is Adarlan.”

Azriel immediately typed the name into the phone.

A pretty white boy. Columbia. Pre-law.

Figures.

Of course, someone like that would want someone like Elain. And she’d want him in return. Pretty, proper. Pathetic.

“Satisfied?” she rose to her full height. Her cheeks were flushed, brown eyes gleaming with anger and challenge.

She was so beautiful and so annoyed with him, Azriel was blinded by her, by her light, her spirit.

“Not for a while,” he said blandly and shrugged.

That made her redden. Not the blush of anger. Her sexy blush.

So, he went for it.

“Call it off,” he begged.

“What?”

“Call it off. Please.”

“Why?”

Because you are mine.

He wanted to tell her. To explain.

But did he deserve her? All that light and goodness? Perhaps, pretty boy Dorian was indeed more appropriate.

“Because,” he began and then heard a car pull up behind him.

Steps.

He didn’t turn around.

“Elain.”

“Dorian.”

Her face lit up with a smile.

“Ready?”

She nodded. “Just let me grab my bag.”

When she disappeared, Azriel turned around at last.

Dorian was good looking, tall, thin. Young. Looked like a kid, though Azriel figured that he wasn’t much younger than him. But Azriel’s lived about 540 years by now…at least that’s how it felt, and Dorian—Dorian probably had many girlfriends, many friends, and daddy’s money.

He was about as interesting as a bag of beans.

They stared at each other.

Azriel didn’t give a shit.

He didn’t care about anything, other than this is what Elain chose. This Dorian may end up holding Elain’s hand. Perhaps going in for a kiss. That sensuous weak mouth may touch Elain’s perfect lips—the lips that Azriel only dreamt of kissing. And what if it went further?

What if,

No.

Elain was not a ‘first date sex’ kind of girl. Never. Not his Elain.

“Treat her well,” he growled a warning.

Dorian blinked.

“What?”

“Treat. Elain. Well.”

“Who are you?”

“Consider me her brother-in-law.”

“Oh. Okay. Alright. Sure, man. Yeah.”

Fucking intellectual powerhouse.

“I am one of many,”

“Many what?” Dorian asked in confusion.

“Many brothers-in-law. And they all look like me. Some are even bigger.”

“Ready?!” Elain chirped.

“Um, yeah,” Dorian’s eyes darted back and forth.

Azriel finally gave up and crossed his arms on his chest.

“Have fun you two,” he said sweetly.

“Thank you. I’ll see you at Rhys’s pool party on Saturday,” Elain acted like everything was normal.

“Sure. Bring Dorian along,” Azriel jerked his chin. “We’ll be delighted to have him.”

Elain

“He is a charmer,” Dorian finally exhaled once they were inside the car.

She grunted in response.

“Does he have enough tattoos?” he started to reverse. “Oh, look, a Ferrari,”

“It’s his,” she bit the inside of her cheek, glancing quickly at the unmoving figure under the awning.

“His? What is he? A drug dealer?”

“Dorian!” she snapped. She was so on edge, she sat on her shaking hands the moment she buckled up.

“Sorry. Sorry. But really, do you want me to,”

She interrupted,

“What? Are you offering to beat him up?”

“I mean,”

“Dorian. He is a Navy Seal,” she said bluntly. “His bicep is the circumference of my head. His buddies are all pushing 6”7 in height and are all former Navy Seals. I am just saying. You aren’t taking him on.”

Dorian didn’t feel the need to disagree.

Azriel

Elain was his home. She was his happy place. His joy.

Her smile made everything better.

When she touched him--his fingers, his cheek—that touch carried more sensual promise than anything he’d ever experienced. And he’d experienced plenty.

Azriel’s only brush with love was when he was 18 and it was right before Morgana fucked Cassian, lost her virginity to him and got pregnant by him. He wondered if that’s what fucked him up, turned him off love for this past decade. Ploughing through endless bodies felt good, though he was usually left with the feeling of residual emptiness and longing. But he accepted it.

Elain though. He didn’t plough into Elain. Never even so much as seen her breast. And yet, his head was filled with her. Images, both erotic and mundane floated through his brain constantly. Elain’s eyes lighting up when he called her ‘baby’. Elain tasting a pastry, in her own special way, sometimes dipping her finger into the cream, and driving him wild. Elain reclining her golden head on the seat of his car, eyes closed. Elain being a little drill master when it came to arranging flowers, absolutely unperturbed by the idea of ordering Rowan and Cassian and Fen around.

That Elain was offering her smile, her time, her attention to that pretty prick Dorian was just intolerable.

If he could, he would actually climb the walls. But Azriel couldn’t climb walls, even if parkour-loving Fenrys would probably teach him how. Therefore, he went back to the shop, where Nuala was just packing up for the day.

“I need your car,” he demanded.

“We are in a garage,” she reminded him reasonably, but nevertheless tossed her keys to him. He caught them with one hand and said, “I owe you one.”

“You owe me like fifty…but who is counting?”

Nuala didn’t know why he needed her car, but she did know that he was beyond pining, at this point. He was in full love mode. As in LOVE. Capital letters, heart palpitations, sleepless nights, acting-like-a-drug-addict LOVE. Who would have thought? Not only that Azriel would fall in love at all, but that it would be with Elain.

Azriel got into Nuala’s ordinary Acura, drove to Elain’s apartment, and kept vigil the very same way she told him he would.

At this point, he didn’t care at all. He sat and waited in his shadows. Waiting like this—he learned this level of patience back in the Navy, during his recon missions—suited him, and his personality. Lorcan and he could sit like this for hours. Days. They weren’t bothered at all. Cassian and Fenrys would whine, complain and bounce like little children.

Shadows were his friends, as they’d always been, since he was a boy and hid from his abusive father. They protected him then, and concealed him now.

Finally, at an acceptable, and slightly boring, 11:23 pm, Dorian’s generic Audi pulled up.

There was no way that either of them would spot him, or assume that he was around.

Dorian opened the door for Elain, and she stepped out. They talked. She smiled. Then laughed.

It all grated on Azriel’s nerves. Go inside! He wanted to shout to her.

Then, Dorian made a move. Azriel tensed, when the pretty boy reached his hand out and ran his knuckles over Elain’s bare shoulder. The hand stopped entirely too close to her breast, as he squeezed her upper arm, holding her close. If Azriel sensed even the tiniest expression of discomfort from her, he’d be flying out of the car in a snap.

They talked some more, that gross hand still resting on Elain’s arm. But then, she opened her arms and Azriel grimaced. No way. No way was she going for a kiss.

And thank all the gods above, but she only hugged him, and not a close hug either—but that awkward, butts-out, shoulders pressed together weird hug. Something males typically gave each other, so careful to avoid any penile interaction. Then she walked to her building and gave Dorian a little wave. He hopped in his car and drove away.

What a prick. Didn’t even wait for her to get inside.

But she stood still, door unopened, keys in her fingers. And then, she peered into the darkness. A long, penetrating gaze. Aimed right at him. Like she saw through the shadows. She looked and looked, and he melted in the shadows, into the darkness of the car.

And then she flipped him off, and walked inside.

Elain

Piled into Lorcan’s Range Rover, it was Elain ad Elide, Lorcan and Connall in the car.

It was a nice day for a pool party, for a long drive to the Hamptons, for enjoying the sunshine.

Elain was having none of it.

She hated this idea to begin with—pool parties—which were full of too-rich and affected young people, prancing around in skimpy underwear. The women too perfect. The men, full of unreasonable expectations.

Feyre and Morrigan liked this crap, Cassian too, Aelin—certainly.

All the people with their perfect bodies and big hair and bigger personalities.

This Range Rover was like the car for outcasts.

Lorcan looked like he wanted to be at a pool party as much as he wanted to have a rectal exam. Connall, she was sure, would just sit by the bar and nurse drinks all day long. Elide would always find an escape with Lor, and the two of them would huddle together and make snide comments about the attendees to each other.

Elain sighed.

She was such a stupid, inexcusably dumb, fucking idiot.

“Do you know why Az isn’t coming today?” Lorcan looked at her in the mirror.

“Oh?”

She bit inside of her cheek, stifling a pathetic cry.

It shouldn’t have surprised her that Azriel decided not to attend, but she still harbored hope, somewhere inside of her that he would. That they’d be able to talk. That he’d…

Forgive her?

“No, I don’t know,” she mumbled.

“Did you have a fight or something?” Lorcan’s strange black eyes looked at her like they were scraping the edges of her soul. It wasn’t the most comfortable of feelings.

“No.”

She spent the rest of the trip in sullen silence. Even Elide didn’t try to shake her out of her stupor.

As expected, the party was ridiculously over the top.

There were throngs of people milling about, all in various stages of undress. Firm, golden flesh gleamed in the sunlight.

There were three bars—one for beer, one for cocktails and one for everything else. An ice cream station. A s’mores station. Wagyu beef sliders. Lobster hot dogs. Jamon Iberico. Wheels of Parmigiano Reggiano.

Deep down, Elain was grateful that she’d never be this wealthy.

She was happy with her flowers, her shop, and she was considering opening a pastry shop down the road. And then Azriel had his wonderful garage, but successful as it was, it wasn’t on the Darling level of wealth…And that was alright. It was perfectly enough, too much even,

She stopped.

She should’ve just told him. Everything. A long time ago. But the intensity of her own feelings towards him frightened her, and then…she fucked it all up.

She meandered absently around the premises, listening to Feyre’s and Nesta’s screeching from the pool, where both were perched on the shoulders of their respective lovers, whacking each other and others with long plastic poles. Mor and her new girlfriend were making out passionately in a hammock. Fenrys was swarmed by a bevy of busty beauties. And so on…

She was feeling foolish and exposed in her pink bikini, wishing she had a wrap or something. Her body was no worse than all of these other girls’, but she couldn’t help but compare herself to them. They were confident. Exciting. Entertaining. They flirted and laughed loudly. They had sparkly teeth and giant lips.

She didn’t know how to flirt, and wasn’t glamorous or polished like them.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing here all alone? Without a drink?”

A man sidled over, his bold eyes roaming about her body, assessing.

“I am fine, thank you,” she made to get away and walk towards the pool, but he thrust an insistent hand in front of her, holding a drink.

“Come on, sugar. Join me.”

Sugar?

And then, there were four of them. Five.

None were threatening, but being surrounded by so many men, while basically naked was outside of Elain’s comfort zone. They were joking, laughing, chugging their beers. She didn’t know any of them.

“So, who are you?” asked one of them.

“A guest.”

She angled her body towards the pool, trying to sneak past them.

“A guest? We are guests too! Nice party,”

“It is. Pardon me, I have to go,”

“But why?”

One of them caught her hand in his and pulled lightly, grounding her in place.

“Excuse me!” she attempted to withdraw her hand, but he didn’t budge. They herded her a little closer to the house. A sixth man approached, carrying a little tray with tequila shots.

“Where do you got to go, baby?”

Another hand slipped down her back and brushed over her butt, making her jerk.

“What the hell?” she hissed, but her indignation was met with amused smiles.

“Such a pretty girl, all alone. Come, join us,”

“I am not alone!” she snapped angrily.

“Oh no?”

“And who are you with?”

“My fucking boyfriend!” she lied, a little scared now.

“Oh, a boyfriend?” teased one. “And who might that be?”

“Do we know this boyfriend? Where is he?”

She looked around desperately, and then lied again, “He is inside. And coming back, soon.”

Laughter.

“Ohh, I don’t think so. I’ve been watching you for an hour, and there is no boyfriend.”

“I think I need to go,”

“But why!?!”

They goaded, “Tell us about the boyfriend?”

“His name is Azriel Bagarat,” she blurted out.

More laughter. Challenging, condescending laughter.

“Really?”

“Mr. Fancy Garage is your boyfriend?”

“Good one! I almost fell for it.”

“Azriel Bagarat-I-date-a-new-girl-weekly makes for a bad boyfriend, honey,”

“You aren’t exactly his type.”

Tears threatened to pour out of her eyes, and she was horrified by her body’s reaction to the taunting.

She threw, “and what type is that?”

“He doesn’t go for squeaky clean girls like you.”

“Maybe it’s an experiment!” laughed one of them. “He is into all sorts of fucking kink. Maybe he is wetting his cock in some virgin flesh,”

“Are you even legal?”

“You look awfully young.”

At this point, Elain was not above screaming for Lorcan, or Rowan, or anyone else. Her looking weak and pathetic was the least of her concerns.

For a moment, the teasing and the laughter died down. One of them exclaimed, “Oh hey. There you are!”

Fuck. Another one.

The scent hit her first. The sharp, intoxicating smell of his expensive Armani cologne. She’d recognize it anywhere. That hint of cedar and a chilled night air. That was him. Her home.

And then, the familiar dark arm slipped across her stomach, tugging her firmly to his front. Another hand slid to her throat, laying on it, but not squeezing. He held her tenderly, close to him, possessively.

“I missed my girl,” he whispered, his gravelly, husky voice so familiar to her ear it sent a shiver down her spine.

Why couldn’t it be like this forever? Her in his arms? Forever?

“My gorgeous girlfriend always brings all the boys to the yard,” he chuckled. And then, to Elain’s utter delight and pleasure, he placed a warm, open mouthed kiss on the side of her neck.

She shuddered.

He’d never kissed her. Never intimately. Never kissed her like this.

His. She was his. And he just marked his territory.

It was glorious. To be kissed by him was something that she’d dreamt of and here it was—unexpected, sensuous, surprisingly erotic.

His thumb stroked the side of her throat, and then he leaned in and kissed her again. Same spot. Her bare vulnerable throat, her pale neck, his for the taking. She had no control of the situation, and she loved it.

“Thank you for keeping my girlfriend company, gentlemen, but I’ll take it from here.”

Not so brave anymore, in the face of this towering mass of muscle and tattoos, the men sheepishly offered him a shot, which he knocked back and then even attempted to high-five him, though he drew the line at that.

As they scampered away, Azriel did not release Elain from his embrace. She just stood there, with his arm around her, her body pressed into his almost-naked body and all she wanted was to turn around and peek. Or have him kissed her again. She really, really wanted him to kiss her again.

He did not though.

Finally, his arm fell away and he stepped back, causing a sorrowful sigh to erupt in her chest.

She turned around. His face was unreadable, as always, and though she picked out his little tells and signs of emotions now, she couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

“Thank you,” was all she could mutter. He didn’t answer. “I didn’t think you were coming,”

“No need to talk,” he cut her off. Then turned around and added, “feel free to leave with Lorcan or Cass.”

He was walking away when she called out, “Wait. Az. I want to talk. Please,”

“No,” he said simply.

She ran after him, trying to keep up with his long stride.

“Az, please, I need to,”

“It’s Azriel to you,” he corrected bluntly. “You don’t get to ‘Az’ me,”

She swallowed, tears stinging her eyes.

“Okay…okay,” she begged. “Azriel, I want to explain, please,”

“You don’t always get what you want,” he threw back.

She paused, but then added,

“But sometimes, you get what you need.”

A tiny smile twitched on his lips. But he schooled his face into neutrality and without turning to her, said,

“If you must tag along for the rest of the day, pretending like you are my girlfriend, it’s up to you,” he shrugged indifferently.

She didn’t care. At least he didn’t send her away. At least, she could be near him, and with time, she’d thaw his anger.

She followed him silently, like dog. Trying to be inconspicuous, but she stayed at his side, even if they didn’t talk and he continuously ignored her. It allowed her time to ogle his incredible body, which she did with relish and without shame. If he was going to be nasty to her, she at least would feast her eyes on all that muscular gorgeousness. Those Cadre men—they were all stunning, at least when it came to their physiques. Azriel, though, was a little more stunning than the others. Only Fenrys, perhaps, was at the same level of attractiveness.

They went to the bar and she followed him faithfully, not letting him out of her sight. He glanced at her, sighed, shaking his head with annoyance, but Azriel being Azriel, he ordered her a mojito, while he drank Sipsmith London Gin and tonic, and after a while, thrust the drink in her hand and muttered, “I am going swimming.”

She took it and sat on a chair, stiff-backed and patient, watching him.

When he emerged from the water, she was waiting for him with a fresh drink.

“Your tattoos look like wings.”

He rubbed a towel over the black and blue tattoos on his shoulders and arms and looked at her.

“Your tattoos,” she said again, watching his wet body and the markings on it come alive on his skin. When he was in the pool, and his arms rose and fell in the water, they looked like wings. “They look like wings. Bat wings.”

“Is that a compliment?” his voice was still cold, bored.

“Yes.”

She handed him his drink and then took his scarred hand in hers. He made to pull away, but she squeezed.

“You are my boyfriend,” she reminded him. “Would be strange if you didn’t want to hold my hand.”

He had no choice but to grip her hand back,

and fuck if it didn’t feel nice.

Two days, and he was going nuts without that little hand. Two days, and he’d missed her touch like it was his life’s necessity.

And then, she gently rubbed her thumb over his own.

“Stop that,” he ordered.

“No,” she said flatly.

“Elain,”

“Azriel,”

“It’s not going to work,” he warned.

She shrugged, “we’ll see.”

They took a few more steps, her thumb still stroking his fingers, and then he stopped abruptly.

“What do you want?”

She looked up at him and said, voice surprisingly firm, “I want to get into your car and drive home with you. I want to cook you dinner. I want to hold your hand. That’s what I want.”

“And what do I want?”

“You want the same thing,” she assured him, unusual confidence in her voice and on her face.

He watched her, unblinking, but she did not balk from his assessing gaze, did not step back. She just clutched his hand like life depended on it. His jowls twitched and he bit his lip, before says, “go and put some clothes on. We are going home.”

“No. Come with me,” she tugged him with her. “I don’t trust you.”

He smiled, at last, and her heart fluttered with joy at the sight of that magical smile.

They found their clothes, threw them atop the bathing suits and as soon as they were dressed, Azriel took her by the hand and led her out to the parking lawn. It was a Maserati Ghibli today, beautifully embellished with subtle pinstripes. No one would dare do this to their 90K car, but Azriel did. And it looked stunning.

The drive wasn’t comfortable.

He still wasn’t speaking to her and she just sat there, for an hour or more, in silence, hands on her lap.

Finally, once they began approaching the city, Elain asked, “where are you taking me?”

“Home,” was all he said, his first word since they got in the car.

She thought and said, “I don’t want to go home.”

His voice mocking and obsequious, he asked, “Please tell me, Elain, where should your personal Uber take you? Would you like a coffee? A snack? A walk in the park? A trip to the library? Should I deliver you into Dorian’s loving embrace?”

“Stop it,” she snapped at him, all red and angry. “Stop with all that!”

Azriel plowed forth, ignoring her command, “where was he today, by the way? Why was I stuck rescuing the damsel in distress? Where is brave Dorian?”

“Nobody asked you to rescue me!” she lied, suddenly realizing that maybe, that kiss meant nothing to him. That it was all for show.

“Yeah, you looked like you were handling that situation very well,” he decided dryly.

“You know,” she folded her arms on her chest, “do take me home.”

“Good.”

Once they entered the city proper, Azriel fought the traffic aggressively, swearing under his breath more frequently than usual, obviously intend on getting rid of her as soon as possible.

She didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t break through. Couldn’t get to him, not around the walls that he’d constructed around himself. She thought that she could, but she was wrong.

Finally, they were coming towards her block.

The silence was stifling. Unbearable.

“Why did you do it?” he blurted suddenly.

She looked at him, but before she could offer any explanations or excuses, he continued, not looking at her, “Was I not enough? Was he better?”

“He is nothing,” she managed, desperation tinging her voice, her whole being. She reached out to touch him, but he jerked his arm away.

“Don’t,” he warned. “Nothing? Why would you do this, Elain? Was I not enough? Too weird? Too brown? Too low-born? Too fucked up?”

Elain stared at him in horror. She was numb. Words failed her.

He was shaking his head.

There was true sadness, dejection written on his face. Devastation.

“I was falling in love with you, Elain,” he said so softly, she barely heard the words. “For three months, I’ve been falling in love with you. I’ve loved everything about you. I knew that the hammer would drop…One day, it would drop because it’s not like this could ever be,” he made a wide gesture with his hand.

He stopped the car next to her house.

“But I thought that it would be me. That I’d fuck up somehow and you’d dump me. Which would be…expected…”

He sighed, his breath so ragged it sounded like a sob.

“But I didn’t expect this. Truly. Though looking back, I don’t know why I didn’t?” he shrugged. “That’s what Mor did—the only other one I thought that I loved. But we were young and stupid, so…” he was looking out the window, seemingly talking to himself, not to her anymore. “But now I am almost thirty and for once, I thought that maybe, just maybe, this one time, I’d get what I want.”

Elain was weeping silently, fat tears pouring onto her hands, dripping off her face.

“I wanted you more than anything, Elain.”

Elain. Elain. Elain.

She hated that he called her Elain.

She hated that he didn’t use his usual endearments with her, that she was no longer his ‘baby’ nor his ‘love’. She wasn’t his ‘gorgeous’ or his ‘beautiful’. She was just Elain.

There was no warmth in his voice. Only some kind of hollowed emptiness, instead of the usual teasing smirk, the undercurrent of humour and love, of tender softness that he always used with her. Only with her.

“You can have me,” she managed finally through her sobs. “You can ha--…”

He finally turned his head and looked at her, that gaze dark and pitiless.

“I am not sure I want you anymore. We’ll coordinate the wedding situation and we’ll be civil to each other, for Feyre and Rhys’s sakes. Goodbye Elain.”

She sat there. He waited. Then, with a groan, he got out and went to open the door for her.

As she stepped out of the car, she begged one more time, “Azriel. Please. Please just allow me the opportunity to talk to you,” she wiped her face, with her fist.

It destroyed him completely.

He didn’t know what to do with himself, as he tracked her movement, that childish, simple, raw flick of her fist over her eyes. It wasn’t the modelled, reserved, dab-the-eye practiced move that you saw on reality shows, the fake tears, the faux sadness.

This was Elain; sorrowful, devastated, begging.

“Please,” she pleaded again.

“I asked you to call it off,” he reminded her. “I begged you. You didn’t.”

She choked on a sob.

“You threw it in my face, Elain. This random man, whom you also led on, by the way. Led him believe that you were interested. I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I am too old for this…Allow me the opportunity to just deal with this break up—or whatever it is—however I can. We both need to move on.”

He’d never left a crying woman on a sidewalk.

But he’d also never been in love before. And his heart had never been broken like this.

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

Azriel

Nuala Gennaro has been trying to reach her boss for three days, to no avail.

He didn’t respond to texts, or to calls. He didn’t show up to work. He wasn’t at the garage, at the tattoo shop, or his design studio. He didn’t seem to be home either, because she drove by his loft a few times and the windows remained dark.

She had keys to his house, but that was a violation of privacy that she didn’t feel like engaging in just yet. Was this an emergency? He gave her the key for ‘emergencies’. Was this one? A healthy, 29-year-old handsome man disappearing for three days didn’t seem like an emergency, but still, Nuala was concerned.

She was going to give him one more day, and if he was still AWOL then she’d begin to worry.

Azriel was responsible. Whatever was happening in his life typically did not reflect on his work ethic. Besides, he was usually so guarded and seemingly unemotional, it was hard to say if he was affected by anything. Nuala had met him in high school—a beautiful, quiet, mysterious boy who looked like a fallen angel and who seemed unusually confident and astute for his age.

They reconnected after he and his brothers returned from the Navy. He was darker and quieter than she remembered, and hardened in his manner and bearing, and had a haunted look in his eyes which worried Nuala for quite some time. She’d been apprenticing as a tattoo artist and they’d met to discuss her joining his venture. She wasn’t sure if this whole garage/restaurant/tattoo parlour for rich people thing was going to be feasible or even realistic, but Azriel believed in the concept and somehow, got her enflamed by his passion as well. They’d slept together over the years, but even if she would have wanted more, he wasn’t willing to give it to her. Azriel went through women with the determination to conquer, mild interest and lack of follow up. But he never gave any of himself to them. Pleasure—yes. Self—no. So, Nuala had decided—staying with him and in his life, in his business, as his protégé and associate was more important than having him as a lover, even if he was by far the best lover she’d ever had.

The only thing that did seem to affect him—deeply, powerfully—was Elain Archeron.

Nuala didn’t think that it would happen. Didn’t think that Azriel was a man to fall in love so passionately, so completely, and even if he was denying it to himself, Nuala knew him well enough to know the truth. And whatever happened between him and Elain, approximately a week ago or so, truly devastated him.

Prior to his disappearance, he operated as if he was in some sort of fog. He answered questions, he gave instructions and directions, he did whatever was expected of him—met with clients, held meetings with his car suppliers, negotiated deals—but his heart was not in it. His beloved business was no longer his priority, and that confounded Nuala, for she had never seen him like this before.

She arrived early, earlier than usual, because she needed to get crackin’. Without Azriel, things seemed…tighter…more difficult. She’d never noticed it, but somehow, he carried this business, made it seem easy, and she falsely believed that it was a walk in the park. Gods, it wasn’t! It was busy, and difficult, and required constant attention and decision making, and reports only piled on her desk—financials, inventory, guest lists, requests, specs. It was endless.

Azriel’s office, a glass cube perched at the top of the building and overlooking everything below, the entire operation, was very dimply lit this early morning. Cassian installed one-way floor to ceiling windows in the office, so no one could look inside, but Azriel was able to see everything, if he so desired.

Nuala climbed the industrial-style stairs and opened the door without knocking.

At first, she thought that there was a fire. The office was entirely engulfed in smoke, but before she could hit the alarm button, nauseatingly pungent stench of tobacco assaulted her nostrils.

“What the hell?!” she exclaimed, rubbing her eyes, and rushing to open the outside windows. She left the door open as well, to encourage some sort of ventilation.

“What the hell,” she muttered again, finally making out Azriel in the dimness, who was sprawled on the leather sofa, in jeans and boots and a black t-shirt, his arm hanging listlessly to the floor, a cigarette between his fingers. On the floor, an almost empty bottle of Jameson’s and an overflowing ashtray, stuffed to the brim with butts. Tom Waits’s insanely gravelly, bourbon-and-tobacco-soaked voice filled the space as well.

“Wow,” she crossed her arms on her chest. “Wow.”

“Why are you here so early?” he asked by way of greeting.

“Funny thing—my boss disappeared for three days. Four days, actually. No word. No text. No call. No email. No warning. No idea whether he is dead or alive. So yes, it’s made for some early mornings for some of us.”

No answer.

He took a deep drag of his cigarette and said nothing.

“What the fuck, Az?”

“Like you said,” he shrugged indifferently, “I am the boss. I don’t have to report to anyone.”

Nuala bit her lip, but did not retort in the way she wanted to retort.

“Where were you?” she inquired calmly.

“Vegas.”

“Vegas?”

“Rhys’s Bachelor Party.”

“Oh.”

“I won money. It’s somewhere,” he glanced around absently. “Give it to some charity…”

“Which one?”

“I don’t care.”

“Fine.”

She didn’t push him. But added, “you can’t smoke here.”

“It’s my shop,”

“Even though. State and city regulations.”

He put out his cigarette compliantly.

“It’s 5 am. When did you start drinking?” she asked, pointing to the bottle.

He gave a lazy glance and shrugged,

“Technically, I didn’t stop drinking…It’s been a few hours…”

She was shaking her head.

He stared into the ceiling blindly, wordlessly.

Nuala didn’t know, but she also knew. So she took pity on him.

“Az,”

“I’d like to be alone now.”

“I will leave you alone,” she promised. “But…” she let out a whoosh of air, preparing herself. “Elain,”

He didn’t react.

“Elain is downstairs.��

To that he did react. He sat up so quickly, she didn’t track the movement with her eyes.

“I found her on the steps, outside,” said Nuala. “She looks like hell. I barely recognized her.”

“Why is she here?” he asked stupidly.

“I think you should probably ask her that. She wouldn’t come inside,” Nuala explained. “She said that she’s been sitting outside since 4 am, hoping to catch you.”

But Azriel was already out the door, sprinting down the stairs, making Nuala gasp, as he took three at a time, and she feared that he’d fall down on the concrete floor and break every bone in his body.

It was only five in the morning, and the streets, even NYC streets, were empty.

It was drizzling, a summer thunderstorm about to erupt.

Elain was sitting on the doorstep, arms wrapped around her knees, huddling into herself in the morning chill.

“Elain,”

She jumped up and turned to him.

He never saw her like this—wrecked. Utterly devastated. Wilted.

His lovely flower girl, his little rose, his darling beauty—wilted. Instead of her usual colouring of pink and golden, caramel and honey and cream, she looked black and white. Like everything was leeched out of her, every spark, all joy, each remarkable hue.

They did not greet each other. She just looked at him, and,

“I’ve hurt you,” she said, her voice surprisingly steady, the tone firm. “I know that. And you can leave and discard me, and you have every right,”

Azriel just stood there, looking at her, unable to get enough. Thinking that there was a possibility that this was going to be one of their last conversations. And that possibility was unacceptable to him. It was intolerable.

The rain began to fall.

Azriel moved under the awning, angling his body so she would come and stand under it as well, but she didn’t move.

Steady droplets pounded the pavement, giving off that fresh smell of wet asphalt. The air was heavy and humid and felt unsettled, like it was preparing for a torrent.

“But know this one thing,” she continued, staring at him, unblinking, eyes brimming with tears. “I fell in love with you on Saturday, May 9th, at 7:14 in the morning. I had loved you every moment of my life since then. I will love you every moment of my life until I die. Nothing will ever change that. I don’t speak to you as some besotted, inexperienced girl, who is smitten by a handsome man…I speak to you from my soul. You have my heart, Azriel. Every broken and sad piece of me, you’ve managed to put together with your beautiful, scarred hands. I will never ask for anything of you—not even a word back, but I needed you to know this. I want you know that I’ve never loved anyone, no man, no being, not my sisters or my parents, as much as I love you. All my joy, my peace, my dreams are connected to you. You are the first thing I think of when I wake up, and the last when I fall asleep—and then I dream of you. I don’t care if you know this, but I’ve built up my whole life around you in my head, all my fantasies are about you. All I want is to love you. That is all. Not very ambitious, I know,” she wiped the tears that were flooding her face, mixing with the rain, “but I can’t think of anything that would ever bring me more happiness, more satisfaction than to love you. And…” she choked a quiet sob, “if you don’t want me—that is alright…I want you to be happy. And if I don’t make you happy, then, so be it, but,”

Azriel couldn’t help himself. Couldn’t contain his bursting breath, his aching heart. Every bit of him felt electrified, wild, untamed.

He grabbed her, his arm pressing her soaking wet body to him, the rain pouring over them, and she trembled and sobbed next to him. Such indescribable hope in her eyes. That maybe, just maybe, it would all turn out like her fantasies.

He cupped her wet, pale face in his palm and murmured,

“You want me?”

Her trembling fingers traced his cheekbone and she nodded mutely.

“Say it,” he groaned.

“I want you,” she whispered.

“Say more,” he begged. “Say everything.”

“I love you. I choose you. I want you.”

He soaked it all up. Every breath. Every word. Every emotion on her face.

“Well,” he muttered, “if we are keeping score…then I fell in love with you on Tuesday, May 5th, at 4:47 in the afternoon.”

She laughed through her tears, clutching at him with desperate hands, as if fearing that he would disappear. Turn around and leave her.

But he wasn’t going anywhere. Ever.

He was exactly where he wanted to be. Yearned to be all his life.

“First glance, baby,” he lovingly caressed her face, “first glance. Love at first sight.”

She kissed the tips of his fingers.

“You are my home, Elain,” he wrapped his arms around her and held her close to him, her cheek pressed to his chest, his hand cradling her head, “my favourite person in my life. With you, all things are possible. Sometimes, I feel like I can fly. Like I’ve grown wings and I hear the song of the wind. But I think that it’s just your voice in my head. You won’t leave, right?”

She chuckled and shook her head, “No. Never.”

“Because this week,” he shuddered, “it’s like I lost a limb…There was this phantom reminder of you, always within me, and yet, you weren’t there. I couldn’t reach and find you next to me. I’ve never felt such emptiness,” he brought her hand to his chest and lay it on her booming heart, “there was nothing here,” he pressed her hand closer, and she felt the steady beat, “empty…You weren’t with me, and there was nothing left.

“I think I’ve been in love with you—forever. I don’t even believe in past lives or other worlds, but sometimes I feel like I’ve known you for eternity.”

She raised her face to him, surprise and awareness in her red-rimmed eyes,

“I feel the same. Az, I’ve always felt the same thing!”

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” she nodded vigorously, “when we held hands the first time, when we just met, I recognized your touch. I knew your scars. It was all familiar to me, like stepping back into my own home, after a long absence. Reacquainting myself with something that I already loved.”

He cupped her face in his hands and asked,

“May I kiss you?”

“You have to kiss me,” she smiled a happy, luminous smile at him. “I’ve waited for a long time for you to kiss me.”

Azriel smiled, and looked up, rain drenching his face and their bodies.

“Are we really going to do this? In the pouring rain?”

She was grinning, smiling happily, nodding, “All the cliches in the world!”

He clasped her jaw in his hand, wrapping his other arm tighter about her.

“I loved when you kissed me at the party,” she admitted, a little breathless.

“Yes?” he murmured and then dipped his head, and gently pressed his lips to her throat.

Elain shuddered against him, her breasts, nicely full, round and soft pressed tightly against his chest, and she sighed her pleasure.

“Like that?” he whispered against her cold, wet skin, and she half-moaned, nodding. So he kissed her neck again, on the other side, raking his teeth gently along the warm, pulsating vein. He kissed along her collarbones, tender and sweet, but with acute intention. Her breasts moved against his chest, their shirts nor her bra providing much of a barrier between his skin and her firm, swollen nipples.

Up her throat he went with his lips, kissing softly, until he pulled away for a moment, their breaths mingling, warm next to each other. He tilted her face just so, to have better access to her full mouth, and then kissed the plump lower lip. She clutched at his shirt and pulled him closer, the rain forgotten, the world encapsulated in his mouth, in the loving pressure of his lips against hers.

Elain looked irresistible. In his arms, where, let’s face it, she belonged, with her cheeks finally, finally taking on the familiar rosy blush.

Azriel, all 6”4 or “5 of the dark, bestial sexiness of him was wrapped around her. The low, sensual purr that he emitted turned into something more primal, hungrier when his mouth moulded into hers. The base, animalistic attractiveness of him, the bronze arms, the thick markings of his tattoos all over his skin, slithering like shadows, was almost too much for Elain to handle all at once, and she moaned, loud, and desperate against his lips. He brushed his nose against her cheek, and then nose to nose, and she was so stupidly needy for him that she struggled to stay upright. He brushed his fingertips over her lips, squeezing them between his and her own, and she licked on the pad of his thumb, laving some of the scars with the tip of her tongue.

Gods, this man could kiss.

Brutal, savage and noble--all amalgamated into one indescribable, unforgettable experience. Hungry and knowing, agonizingly slow, he devoured her mouth like it was some succulent, exotic fruit that he’s been craving. His lips explored her thoroughly, unhurriedly, tasting and savouring, caressing and worshipping. It was she who slipped her tongue inside his mouth, tentatively at first, but then gaining in boldness and confidence, especially once he sucked her in and stroked it with his own. He tasted of something masculine: alcohol, maybe, deep and rich and smokey, and tobacco, certainly, which, surprisingly, she enjoyed, but also something sexual. If Elain ever thought that she could taste passion, this lazy, indulgent sucking of his tongue on hers was exactly that. He groaned into her mouth, low and hot, and then licked on her tongue, with sensual playfulness which she loved.

She was hot in his arms, against his towering, heated body, and even the pouring rain couldn’t cool her off. The slabs of his abdominal muscles pressed into her belly and she was growing positively addicted to having him so close to her, his massive strength enveloping her so nicely, cushioning her against him. Nothing in her life has ever felt so wonderful, so sublime as Azriel felt in her arms.

Their kiss went on and on, heady and glorious, with him exploring every bit of her mouth with his tongue and lips, his hands caressing her body unobtrusively.

“Gods, I want to kiss you for eternity,” he moaned, tearing himself away from her lips at last.

She was panting, glassy-eyed, in love. He squeezed her face between his palms, looking down at her, her happiness, the unabashed joy in her eyes.

He’d finally made someone happy.

“Okay,” she agreed easily.

He smiled and kissed her again, then again, his lips creating a certain magic between his mouth and her skin and their bodies.

Elain had fought for him.

She didn’t give up. Didn’t shrug it all off. Didn’t leave in anger or panic. His absence meant something to her—perhaps, meant more than he could understand. He knew the misery of not having her in his life. It was only a week, but it was a week of pure hell. Now, he assumed that it wasn’t only he who felt that gaping chasm in his heart. She, for some inexplicable reason, loved him. Of that, he was certain.

“Now, I think we’ve satisfied any girl’s quota of romantic cheesiness,” he decided and she laughed, slapping his bicep lightly. He kissed her softly, “and I am taking you inside,” he said.

Elain only now realized that her feet haven’t been touching the asphalt for the duration of the kiss. She was literally floating aboveground, in his arms, in the throes of their first kiss.

The cheesiness quotient has been achieved indeed.

“Will you kiss me more?” she asked, as he swung her in his arms and carried her inside the shop.

“I am confident that I will never stop kissing you,” he assured and made his way up the stairs, to the office, clutching the dripping mess that she was in his arms.

She’s been here before, but he brought her straight into the attached bathroom, which was appointed outlandishly, and with a nice shower too.

“Get in there,” he ordered, “now. Before you catch a cold because of your love for kissing in the rain,”

She giggled, kiss-drunk and toed off her soaking wet converse that smacked limply on the tiled floor.

“But what am I going to wear?”

“My clothes, obviously,” he shrugged. “Unless you don’t want to, which is fine, because naked is just fine by me. Actually, preferred,”

She snickered, but looked at him, a little uncertain, and he rolled his eyes and muttered, “yes, yes, I will leave! Don’t worry. Though you know, I will eventually see everything anyway. So your modesty is misplaced on me.”

Azriel was correct. A hot shower was perfect. Despite it being late August, standing under pouring rain wasn’t as much fun as they made it seem in the movies.

The door opened and he came in, “here is some stuff for you.”

She looked at him over her shoulder, probably a little sultrier than she intended, and he winked, “Nice ass!”

“Ugh, stop looking!” she croaked, but he only laughed.

“You are the one with the bare butt!”

Then, he scratched his chin and bit his lip, making no move to leave.

“Az!” she exclaimed, blushing, but also kind of … intrigued.

“This is a very, very, very nice ass,” he muttered to himself, but loud enough for her to hear. Her blush only intensified, when he said, “the things I am going to do with it. Mmmm,” he rubbed his lower lip with his thumb, as if contemplating what he will be doing with her butt and then finally walked out, shaking his head.

When Elain emerged from the bathroom, with her hair wrapped in the towel and wearing Azriel’s t-shirt and shorts, she found him in a leather chair, sipping coffee. He’d also changed and his hair was mussed and damp, his bare feet crossed at the ankles, resting on a leather stool.

“There is coffee for you,” he jerked his chin towards a marble coffee table that had a basket of pastries and two large cups of coffee.

He marked everything.

How she looked in his clothes, which were much too big on her, yet cozy, though the shorts that she wore were hilarious, reaching below her knee.

How she brought him his coffee first, before taking her cup.

How she sat on the stool, by his feet and crossed her legs, before giving him a croissant and biting into her own.

“Have you warmed up?” he asked, sipping his coffee. Chugging gallons of coffee American style wasn’t his thing—he preferred quick, small espressos, but this giant cup did take the chill away.

She nodded.

“Do you want to talk?” he asked.

She tensed right away, and he said, “All is forgiven, I swear. “

She eyed him suspiciously, nevertheless.

He smiled at her, and added, “But...I think that I need to understand what happened? Did I do something to,”

“No!” she exclaimed immediately. “No. It was nothing you did. Never think that it was you,”

“Alright,” he said calmly. “Then what was it?”

She didn’t look up from her cup, running a finger over the rim.

“Talk to me, love,” he encouraged softly.

“You’ve consumed me, Azriel,” she confessed, her voice barely audible. “From the moment I saw you, you’ve consumed me. And I guess…” she sighed, “I was stupid…a stupid, stupid person because I didn’t know,”

“What?”

“Whether I was infatuated, or in love with you. So I thought that maybe, if I expose myself to another man, even in some minor way, I might be able to tell what I feel,”

“And? Did you?”

“Dorian…” she swallowed nervously, “he is a nice guy. He is in Law School with Nesta—that’s how I know him. When he asked to go to dinner, and I said yes,”

She looked up at him, tears threatening to spill out from her eyes,

“And I felt nothing,” she admitted, her voice broken somehow. “I could only think of you. The entire time, I could only think of you and I knew that it wasn’t fair to him…”

Azriel agreed, “probably not”.

“And I knew that I’d made a colossal mistake… But,” she set her cup on the floor and squeezed her fingers. “I…”

She halted. Said nothing else.

Azriel waited.

“What?” he probed, sensing that there was something she wasn’t telling him. He reached for her, but she only shrunk into herself.

“Elain, what is it?” he pressed.

She blushed and murmured, “promise me you won’t leave me, if I tell you.”

His brow furrowed, “Please,” he begged, “tell me what’s going? You are legit scaring me right now.”

“You won’t lea--,”

“Don’t be ridiculous! I am not leaving you, no matter what. But are you alright?”

She pulled her hair from the towel and it spilled over her shoulders, half-obscuring her face. He reached and tucked the wet strands behind her ears, so he could see her face.

“Talk to me, baby,” he urged gently.

She exhaled and then said, looking straight at him,

“I’ve never been with a man, Az.”

He looked at her and then blurted, absurdly, “Like a virgin? But you are so hot!”

She couldn’t help and burst out laughing.

“I guess not hot enough,” she shrugged, a bit more relaxed about the situation now that he seemed relieved and smirking too.

He exhaled, deeply, bubbling his lips, “Phew…I thought it was something,” he shook his head, not able to express his relief. “Important…Something, I don’t know, serious?”

“What would be serious?”

“I don’t even know,” he admitted, “but certainly more serious than a hymen!”

He took her hand in his and brought it to his lips.

“And I appreciate you telling me,” he said seriously, kissing the inside of her hand, but then, that glint in his eyes returned and he asked, “so did you want the hunky Dorian to deflower you?”

She pushed at him with her foot and he fell back dramatically in his chair,

“Auuu, you are so unbelievably violent!” he complained, rubbing his side.

“I can be even more violent!” she threatened.

He was laughing, but then he caught her feet in his hands and squeezed them gently, holding them on his lap.

“So you didn’t have boyfriends in high school? In college?” he asked at last, genuinely perplexed.

She sighed and explained,

“In high school I was dating Luce,”

“You were dating a girl?” his brow furrowed. “I didn’t know,”

She started to laugh,

“No! Luce is a man. Lucien,”

“Oh…Oh. Every time you mentioned Luce, I just assumed he was a she.”

“No, he is my best friend. The closest friend I’ve ever had, besides maybe Nesta. We’ve always been close and then in high school, we began dating,” she tugged on her wet hair, “or rather, go on dates.”

“What’s the difference?”

“I didn’t know either—not in the beginning. But then, when we were juniors in 11th grade, he came out, to me only.”

“Ahhh,”

“Lucien’s step-father is really horrible. Like, awful. Physically abusive to all his sons, and always fancied himself this alpha male. So for Lucien to come out to him would have been suicide.

“We agreed that we’d continue our ‘dating’, until we graduate, and Luce was looking at schools only in California. As far as possible from here, from Beron.”

“And you were…okay with it?” he inquired, gently massaging her feet.

She shrugged, “I suppose I was. Luce and I had a good relationship,”

“But it was without any,”

“Intimacy,” she nodded. “I don’t know, I suppose it was enough…My mother had died recently and we lost most of our money, so I guess dating and boyfriends weren’t a priority, if I am being honest.”

He nodded with understanding.

“And college?”

“I had a boyfriend,” her voice wobbled a little, “but he…”

The heavy gaze that Azriel levelled at her told her that he already guessed.

“Sometimes,” she said, “when you are in the situation, you don’t see the warning signs,”

“Did he hit you?” his voice, so cold and menacing, sent a chill down her body.

She shook her head, “No. It didn’t get that far…Cass interfered,”

“Cass?”

“We’ve known Cass for at least a year,” she reminded him, “before he started dating Nesta. He spent a lot of time with us, at the house, because I think he didn’t want to part with Nesta,”

Azriel smiled, “No he didn’t. He wouldn’t stop talking about her for a year…I’d never seen him like that. First Rhys, then Cassian…Guess there is something special about these Archeron sisters,” he decided and stroked her face lovingly, smiling at her. She tucked his palm between her cheek and shoulder and kissed it.

“They do have a tendency to fall in love with the three brothers,” she agreed.

“Yes, they do.”

“Cass, he called us ‘his girls’—Feyre and I. Always asking after ‘his girls’, bringing us presents, doing fun things with us. And I came to love him so much,” she sighed. “And I know that he truly loves us too…But you know Cass—he is a no-nonsense kind of a guy. So once, he observed Graysen with me,”

“Graysen?” Azriel rolled his eyes. “That’s a horrible fucking name,”

She laughed,

“It matched his personality. But you know, on paper, he looked great. Handsome, good family, money,”

“So basically Dorian?”

Elain rolled her eyes,

“You are never going to have me live this down, will you?”

“Not for a while.”

“At least you are honest. Gray, he just…didn’t care, I guess? It was all about him. When I’d talk about opening my shop, it would just be a plain ‘no’. He’s put me down…” she sighed, “sometimes comment on my weight—I was either too fat or too thin.” Azriel flinched at that. She continued, “He’d tell me what to eat. What to wear. Where to go,”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he muttered.

Then, he sat up straight in the chair and opened his arms to her.

“Come here.”

Elain, a bit unsure, and a bit rattled by the memories, moved towards him. He cupped her face in his broad scarred hands and said, “All in the past. Now, it’s just you and me.”

She nodded, gently squeezing his wrists. He leaned in closer and she nodded. His sort of power, the more aggressive and primal, and seemingly more dominant than what Graysen could ever conjure up, did not scare Elain at all. He beckoned and seduced her with that pursuit and challenge, but he did not frighten or oppress. It was similar to what Cassian possessed and how he managed to seduce Nesta with it, turned her compliant to his demand and instruction, or Lorcan with Elide. Azriel’s power, his seduction, were more cerebral, his affection passionate, but controlled. Elain could abandon herself to him, and yet she knew that she’d never be abused or taken advantage of, no matter how much control she relinquished.

This kiss was sultry and voluptuous, and it felt dirtier, heavier than their first one. He sucked her lips, is tongue softly grinding against her in a smouldering, almost smug rhythm. He fucked into her mouth steadily, and purposefully, rendering her completely breathless in his arms almost instantly, forcing all thoughts of previous loves and heartaches out of her head. She made a tiny, strangled noise deep inside her throat and squeezed his wrists harder.

“Tell me things, baby,” he muttered heatedly against her lips, thumbs brushing over her cheeks.

She smiled, “what things would you like to hear?” He kissed her softly, lips pecking on hers playfully, and said, “all the things…all the good things that you told me before,”

“That I love you?” she asked simply, looking at him with earnest, undimming desire.

“Yes,” he groaned, pulling her closer to him, until she was straddling his thighs, her legs naturally falling on either side of him. A desperate moan escaped his lips, as Elain licked on them with the tip of her tongue, before he demanded, between kisses and caresses of his tongue in her parted mouth, “more,”

“I love you. I love you,” she breathed, then panted, “you are mine…I am yours. Forever, if you’d like,”

“I’d like forever,” he agreed.

She pulled away, her soft, lovely face serious,

“Az,”

“Elain,”

“Do you want to be my boyfriend?” she asked, and he grinned, nodding. She sounded absurdly solemn about this, like she was signing a business contract. “I love you. I want you to be my boyfriend,”

“Alright, babygirl, I will be your boyfriend,” he nodded easily.

“No jokes.”

He then said in turn, “But you’ll be mine.”

She nodded.

“In every way,” he added, in a tone that did not allow space for much argument. “Body,” and he lightly ran his knuckles against the side of her breast, and she nodded. He added, “but I want more,”

“What do you want, Az?”

“Love,” he said simply.

She kissed him. “I love you,” she said.

He waited.

“I chose you, Azriel, the moment I saw you. When my heart dropped at the sight of you, and when everything fell into place. I don’t mind choosing you for the rest of my life, if you have me,” she murmured shyly.

“I will have you,” he agreed, her admission making him swallow hard, a thick glob of air lodged in his throat. He might have cried, if he weren’t so happy. His flower girl. His.

He looked and looked, and considered something. She waited, silent. Silence was always a friend between the two of them. Silence was easy and unoppressive and welcome. It allowed them space, and yet they remained together in that mute, mutual understanding. While he was thinking, she took his hand and softly kissed each scarred fingertip.

“I am calling on my bargain,” he declared suddenly, and stroked her head.

Confused, she scrunched her face and muttered, “what?”

He grabbed her behind in his strong hands and somehow, managed to rise up, with her clutching at him. His nose burrowed into her ear and she squirmed, giggling, when he grunted, “what a nice little ass!”

“You seem to like it,” she laughed, wrapping her arms around him.

“I love it!”

“Now what about this bargain?” she reminded him, a bit concerned. “What are we doing?”

“Whatever I want!”

“Az!”

“Lainey.”

He headed for the door, with her in his arms, and she screeched, “I don’t even have shoes on!”

“You don’t need shoes where we are going,”

“Azriel!”

“Why are you so fussy?” he mused, smirking, as he made it down the stairs.

“Why won’t you tell me?”

“I don’t have to tell you. All I promised was that it’s not going to be ‘bad’ whatever that means.”

She sighed, shaking her head, muttering under her breath. He, in turn, very much enjoyed her clutching at him, her body in his arms, her wet hair swiping over his arm. She looked very cute, if very ridiculous in his clothes, and frankly, he was too elated, too disbelieving that this was even real, to let her go. He held her and nuzzled at her neck, at her face, sometimes returning to her beautiful mouth.

He carried her through the still-empty premises, though waiters at the bar and delivery people in the kitchen were starting their day. When they saw their boss carrying a woman, who frequently visited him here in the past few months, they pretended not to notice, as if this was a normal affair. In fact, no other woman ever came here, to visit him. He’s never been seen with a woman, never said that he had a girlfriend, even if women seemed to lose their minds in his presence. But until this one—absolutely not the type of a woman he typically attracted—he never allowed anyone to get close to him.

Azriel made his way into the cavernous insides of the building, at last entering the tattoo shop that he had on premises. It was elegantly outfitted and bore his usual aesthetic—restrained, modern, striking with its use of black, white, and splashes of cobalt.

Elain looked around, when he set her down and pointed out, “I’ve been here before.”

He nodded.

As she wandered about, looking at various lithographs and prints with unique tattoo designed, she finally stopped abruptly and whirled to him,

“No!”

He was laughing under his breath.

“No!” she exclaimed again.

“No what?” he winked, sitting down on a stool, and patting on a leather recliner beside it.

“You…” she fumed. “No!”

He tsked, “A bargain is a bargain.”

“Azriel!” she stomped her foot.

He crossed his arms on his chest and looked at her, “Elain.”

“I am not getting a tattoo!”

“You most certainly are. Stop being a wuss and come here.”

“I am not going to,” she insisted.

“You know,” he notified her conversationally, as he started to prep his equipment, “a shitty little Bagarat tattoo is like $800 bucks,”

“Congratulations. Give it to someone else,” she offered, scowling. “Maybe someone would like a sleeve for twenty grand!”

“I won’t give you a sleeve. Jeez, you’ll probably faint at the first prick,”

She huffed, “I will not!”

He shrugged.

She pressed, “I will not. I am not afraid of needles and I have a high pain tolerance.”

“Lots of talk, babe, no action,”

Stomping angrily, she crossed the open space and challenged, “do you even know how to tattoo?”

“Cass and Rhys…” he winked. “And whenever Rowan decides to add to his collection…Or Gavriel,”

Those were some of the finest, most intricate designs that Elain’s ever seen.

“You did those?” she asked, brow furrowed.

He nodded.

“They are beautiful,” she whispered.

“Will you trust me?” his voice softened and he extended his hand to her.

Elain sighed and then slid on the lounge chair. It was comfortable. She was nervous.

“What will it be?” she asked. “May I see it?”

Wordlessly, he pulled a piece of paper from a folder, but then did not give it to her. She waited. He suddenly seemed uncertain, almost shy.

“Az,” she said gently, “may I see it? I am sure it’s beautiful.”

He swallowed and then explained, “I traced it the first day…evening…When we met, and you were here, at the garage. I,” he exhaled and then looked at her, “anyway…I was overwhelmed, I guess. I fell in love with you and all I could think of was you.”

The words warmed her up, and everything in her softened at his nervousness, at his admission.

“I want it,” she took the paper from him.

“It’s just for you,” he clarified. “It’s unique to you. I needed to quiet my brain and capture the essence of you, and this was it,”

Elain looked at the drawing. It was smaller than she expected, and rendered masterfully—an absolutely exquisite flower cradled in an embrace of two wings.

He swallowed tightly, and then said, “It’s called On the Wings of Desire.”

Without saying anything, Elain pulled up the shirt that she was wearing, just up to her chest. He looked down at her, expectantly.

She put her hand under her left breast, where her heart was and said, “there. I need it there.”

He nodded, remaining silent.

She saw that this was important to him, some ritual that he desired for her to go through, some sort of marking. That’s what it was. It dawned on her, at last. This was his mark, on her. He was going to do it himself, put a part of him, of his creation, of his work, not just on her skin, but within her blood, into her.

She clasped his hand and his eyes flew to her, a shadow of apprehension and anxiety in them, probably as much emotion as he’d be willing to show. He feared that she’d changed her mind.

“Az,” she licked her lip, suddenly nervous to request this of him. “Can you,”

“What?”

“Can you do it on you as well?” she proposed quietly.

He, it seemed, was unable to verbalize what he needed to, so she helped him, “Same spot, alright? Across your heart. So you know that I am always with you, as you are with me.”

He nodded vigorously, clearly relieved and absolutely in love with her proposition.

“Who will do it?” she wondered. “Please don’t ask me!” she laughed.

He smirked. “Nuala. She will do it. Only Nuala or Rowan tattoo me.”

She nodded and then relaxed back into the leather.

“No crying,” he said.

“Alright,” she shrugged. “Kind of weird that you are this sensitive to pain, but okay. I’ll hold your hand.”

He was laughing.

“I thought only Nesta had a big mouth like that,” he said, as he prepped the skin and pulled on his gloves.

“Mistake number one,” teased Elain.

“I am seeing that now,”

He then said, “Okay, I may accidentally brush against the boobie,”

“How accidentally?” she chuckled, while he pressed the outline into her skin. Then, the needle began its wheezing and Elain winced, as the first prick of the needle stung her skin.

“You good?”

“Yeah,” it was more painful than she expected, and she figured that the spot that she selected was probably not the best and would hurt more than an arm or a leg, but she was set on it.

“Absolutely, totally accidentally,” he lied. “You are the one who chose the spot,” he pointed out.

Elain was a trooper. She did not make any hissing noises or any sounds at all throughout the tattooing. The shading was the longest and most painful part, and even then, she remained composed and only winced a few times.

“I am sorry,” he murmured repeatedly, especially when a bit of blood seeped onto her skin.

“Prick your finger,” she whispered.

“What?”

“Prick your finger,”

“And?”

The soft doe-eyes blinked at him a few times, and she said, “I think you know what to do.”

So he did. He pricked his finger and mixed his blood with hers.

Nuala offered to tattoo ‘No Regerts’ on Azriel’s chest, if Elain so desired. She considered it, while Nuala explained that Azriel was now at their mercy and they could do whatever they wanted to him. At the end, he walked away with only a small tattoo over his heart.

It was about 8 am when Azriel and Elain left the garage. The sun was shining and there were no remnants of the previous storms. It was like it never happened. But it did happen. Everything happened.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, slinging his heavy, muscled arm around her shoulders. She’s been clutching at her side the whole time.

She shook her head no and looked at him. He smiled and then kissed her.

“I love you,” he murmured suddenly. Elain’s face broke into a loving smile and she reciprocated by kissing him back. “Let’s go home.”

#la dolce vita #elriel fanfic #elriel #azriel fanfic #azriel fanfiction #elriel fanfiction #elain fanfic #my writing #new chapter #acotar fanfiction #sjm books #azriel #azriel and elain #elain archeron #elain

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avaritia-apotheosis · 3 years

Text

Phantom Children Ch. 8

What's this? An update! Massive thanks to my betas for helping me get through this chapter <3

In Which: A few answers are given to the family and Danny is rudely awoken

[Side note: If you wanna know the general ages of the batfam, its listed in the AO3 version. I also talk about katanas in the end notes ^-^]

AO3 | Prologue | 7 | [ 8 ] | 9 DAMIAN INFORMED TODD—and Drake when he arrived on his bike sometime later on—that the boy whose face is plastered across the monitor was neither a picture of himself nor of Father.

Drake took one glance at the monitor and sighed, pressing his fingers against the bridge of his nose. “Just when I thought this day was getting better.”

“What, did that café on 5th finally let customers supersize their drink?”

“God that would be the dream, wouldn’t it?” Drake sighed wistfully. “Nah, but I did get a lead on where some of that stolen Cadmus tech might’ve ended up. I was gonna spend the night following up on it, but I guess we have to deal with,” he gestured to the monitor, “whatever this is.”

Todd leaned against the edge of the computer, arms crossed over the red bat insignia on his chest. “What are we dealing with this time, brat? A clone? An alternate universe counterpart? Magic shenanigans?”

Maybe. Perhaps. All of those were perfectly valid conclusions for the enigma that was Daniel James Fenton. (Why Fenton and not al Ghul? Or even Wayne?)

Damian, too, was a genetic experiment; a ‘test tube baby’ as Drake put it at times. Damian was born for greatness, created to be perfect. The perfect soldier. The perfect assassin. The perfect heir. Was this boy—Daniel—like him as well?

A failed one, then. Perhaps the precursor to Damian’s own existence. But that would not explain why the boy was allowed to exist for so long. His grandfather demanded perfection, especially from those of his own blood. If the boy was a failure, he would have been eliminated immediately, not sent to live with some eccentric scientists in the Midwest.

Damian was not naïve enough to think that his mother and grandfather did not keep secrets from him. On the contrary, he expected it. The League of Shadows dealt in secrets as often as it did in death. Certain information was worth its weight in gold, whether it was given or buried away.

But he could not help the sharp pang in his chest. A lightning strike, quick and electrifying at the notion that they kept secrets about their family from him.

His father’s face flashed in his mind. The shock turned into a slow, dawning horror. That flicker of light, of recognition, as he scrutinized the contents of the flash drive and cross-referenced it with a public database.

And grief.

Damian recognized the grief.

Alfred, too, nearly dropped his tray of fresh-baked cookies when he stepped in front of the monitor. His usual unflappable demeanor was momentarily broken at his father’s whispered “Sixteen years. Alfred— he’s sixteen years old.”

His father knew of the boy. He was allowed to know of Daniel when he was not allowed to know about Damian.

------

Grayson returned to the cave with a distinct lack of energy in his step. His mask dangled off the tips of his fingers, chin angled downwards and covered largely by his hand. For a split second, their eyes met. Grayson shifted his gaze away, scratching the back of his neck. Father told him, then. Damian wondered how much Father revealed to his favorite son.

Damian clucked his tongue and buried himself deeper into the chair, arms crossed and pointedly looking away. If it was not for his accursed ankle, he’d have headed out to the training ring to take his frustrations out on the dummies.

“Oh, thank god you’re here, Dickface. Damian’s completely out of it.”

Damian shot him a look. “Shut up, Todd.”

“Leave him alone, Jay. Is Tim back yet?”

Drake emerged from the changing room in a dark green shirt, a fresh cup of coffee in hand. He took one long sip before exhaling. “Yeah, I’m here.”

“O-kay…” He pressed his hands together, mouth thinned into a grim line. “Uh, hey Tim, glad to see you back safe. Bruce is coming down soon to explain some things.” He let out a deep sigh, carding a hand through his hair. “This kind of thing would probably be better with the girls around, but I—god, I don’t know.”

Todd raised an eyebrow. “Don’t know whether to call Steph and Cass in Hong Kong, or don’t know what’s going on?”

“Yes.”

------

When Father arrived, Pennyworth following dutifully behind him, it was with an aching slowness in his gait. His steps measured and precise, preternaturally quiet as he made his way to stand by Damian’s chair. Damian sat up straighter, shoulders squared and back an inch away from the backrest. The rest, even Todd, stood at attention; an ingrained habit among Robins and an amusing instinct even among the senior heroes of the Justice League when it came to facing the Batman.

His father kept a steady hand on Damian’s shoulder, and Damian, shamefully, leaned into the touch; his head inclined towards his father’s hand so much so that he could feel the ends of his hair being pushed up slightly as he brushed against his father’s forearm.

He spoke with his usual monotone, as if he was heading a Justice League meeting as opposed to unveiling the secrets surrounding that boy. He brought forward the few photos they obtained from the flash drive. “A few weeks ago, we were alerted of suspicious movement from the League of Shadows in Amity Park, Illinois. Their objectives are, as of now, unclear, though it appears to be tied to the death of Amity Park resident, Daniel Fenton.”

One photo was a standard ID picture people get for their driver’s license, the lighting deliberately horrible so that any attempt to look decent would always end in failure. Another photo was a little better; a candid scene of him chatting with two others his age, a Caucasian girl in gothic-style clothes and an African-American holding a sleek, but still very outdated PDA. His blue eyes crinkled at the corners, hand reaching up to his face to stifle a laugh. There were other photos like this, some candid, others posed. At the forefront of each, a boy that looked too much like his father, too much like Damian.

His father glanced at the photos. He shut his eyes and when he opened them again, he fixed them on some distant stalactite in the Cave. “Around six months ago, Daniel was pronounced dead in a vehicular accident. A body was present, but according to police reports, he was identified via his driver’s license as opposed to any kind of DNA profiling.” He leaned over Damian’s chair to pull up a profile of Masters. “Our source—Vladimir Masters, mayor of Amity and a friend of the Fenton family—indicated his belief that Daniel is actually alive. I am inclined to agree.”

“He’s your son, isn’t he,” Drake said, more of a statement than a question.

Father gave a curt nod. “I cannot say for certain until I can perform a DNA test, but I highly suspect that to be the case.”

“First the demon spawn, now this. Great.” Todd made a hand motion towards the screen. “You know, Bruce, not knowing you have a kid once might be a coincidence, but twice? How do you do that?”

“As of three hours ago, I was still under the impression that my son never made it to term.”

“What?”

“Over sixteen years ago I was involved in a mission that put Ra’s and I on the same side. During that time, Talia and I entered a relationship that resulted in a pregnancy. Though initially ecstatic, she eventually led me to believe she miscarried the child and pushed me away. For what ends, I do not know, but trust me Jason, if I knew—” He paused, the hand that was not on Damian’s shoulder curled into a tight fist.

Father pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why she hid it from me then doesn’t matter. Why Talia wants him back now is important. Judging from Daniel’s records, he was adopted into the Fenton family as an infant and has since lived a seemingly normal life as a civilian. His adoptive parents, Jack and Maddie Fenton, are brilliant scientists and engineers focused on the field of paranormal studies. Eccentricities aside, they have zero connections to the League of Assassins or any other concerning parties.”

“So why now?” Dick asked, shifting his concerned gaze from Bruce to the static picture of Danny’s tired smile. “Why, after all this time, decide that now would be the best time to recover him?”

------

Danny’s experienced plenty of rude awakenings before, but waking up at the ass-crack of dawn to avoid his kidnapper-slash-assassin-slash-biological-mom launching a surprise attack takes the fucking cake. He can’t believe he’s saying this, but thank god for all those late night ghost attacks that conditioned him to be a light sleeper. And, of course, the League’s insistence that everyone be in optimal condition regardless of how little sleep you actually got.

Danny kicked Talia off of him, ripping his blanket away before scrambling to his feet. Seriously, if the universe decided to spontaneously give him powers again, he’d really like an upgrade to his ghost senses, please and thank you. Something that works on humans and not just ghosts. Like spidey-senses. He’d really, really like some spidey-senses.

“Your reaction times have improved considerably,” Talia said.

He eyed the katana sheathed beside his bedroll. “Thanks. Who could have guessed that constantly challenging someone to a spar in the unholy hours of morning would make them paranoid to sleep too much? Really, how am I supposed to grow taller at this rate? ” If he could just get it--

She smiled, taking a step forward. “Prepare yourself.”

“Heh.” Danny stepped further away from Talia, keeping his back to the mouth of the cave. One hand stretched in front of him and the other, coated in a green light, was kept hidden behind his back. “Am I actually gonna get some answers today?”

“Let us make it interesting. Last 10 minutes against me and I shall tell you more about your brother.” Talia twirled her blade. “If you happen to draw blood, you may ask any one thing of me.”

“Anything?”

“Within reason.”

His face caught between a grimace and a smile. He’d rather be sleeping right now, but if he had to be awake, then he’d better make the most of it. “Deal.”

Talia’s smile dropped. She veered her body to the right, barely dodging the streak of bright green that whizzed from behind her. The ectoplasmic energy that surrounded the katana bled away as the handle connected with Danny’s outstretched hand.

She quickly glanced back at Danny’s bedding. Beside it lay an empty sheath. “You have telekinesis?”

He shrugged. “It comes and goes.” Yeah, no way was Danny gonna admit that seven-out-of-ten-times he forgot that he had telekinesis. Besides, that shit was hard to do when he wasn’t Phantom.

“A surprise attack from behind is a sound strategy, Daniel. Though it’ll take a lot more than that to harm me.”

Danny pointed to the side of his cheek. “Are you sure about that?”

Talia frowned. She reached up to her face. Her fingers brushed against her cheek and came away with a thin streak of blood.

Danny grinned, pointing his blade at his opponent. “First blood goes to me.”

------

Fact: most fights don’t last long. An average street fight could last anywhere between 25 to 40 seconds, and sword fights rarely last over a minute. Like Talia said, the goal of a fight was to end it with as few injuries to oneself as possible. Humans, even the most skilled ones, can rarely last long in a fight. Prolonged combat is suicide; it makes you tired, makes your muscles heavy. It’s nothing like what Hollywood would have you believe.

Even with Danny’s own enhanced stamina and Talia holding back, he couldn’t last a full ten-minute spar. If Talia didn’t finish him within twenty-five seconds, then he’d fall by his own human limitations.

But the goal wasn’t to spar continuously for ten minutes.

He only had to last that long.

Danny sprinted out of the cave. The sun barely peeked out of the horizon, a thin line of deep orange breaking apart the wide expanse of blue-black sky above. He couldn’t see shit; great news since that meant there’s a good chance Talia couldn’t either, but that doesn’t fix the fact that he can’t see.

Nearly stumbling on the ice, Danny veered to the left. The edges of the lake stopped at towering rocks twice Danny’s height, leaving little room for cover. Though if he remembered correctly, there should be a few crevices here and there to hide in.

“You’ll have to be faster than that, Daniel.”

Shit—

Danny stopped. He brought his sword up to parry Talia’s strike and twisted away, putting distance between them.

Well, so much for just avoiding her for 10 minutes.

He adjusted his grip, keeping his sword steady and eyes trained on Talia as they circled each other. Danny lunged with an overhead strike. Talia used one hand to block the downswing by gripping his wrists. She thrust her sword forward, the tip harshly poking Danny’s abdomen.

“Less than three minutes.” Talia let his wrist go, Danny’s arms slumping to his sides.

He sighed as he sheathed his sword. “Damn, I thought I’d last longer than that.”

“You made a good effort,” Talia assured him. “Putting as much distance between us at the beginning was a good strategy. You recognized the win conditions immediately and attempted a battle of attrition.” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “I am very proud of you habibi, especially as you managed to draw first blood.”

A warmth grew in Danny’s stomach at the words, heating his cheeks. Sheepishly, he scratched the back of his head. “I wasn’t entirely sure that would work, honestly.”

“It was clever; half a second later and you might have even killed me. You are an al Ghul through and through” She brushed his hair out of his face. “What would you like as your prize, then?”

Danny’s heart clenched. He frowned, dropping his arm to his side. If I was such an al Ghul, then why didn’t you keep me? The question lodged itself in his throat, stifling his thoughts. It was something he’d been wondering for a while, actually, in the moments of solitude he had at the compound. Talia, during their training, would always remark at his potential. How talented he was, how adaptable he was, how much greater he would have been if he had been trained at a younger age.

Well then, why wasn’t he? Why did she give him up?

But each time he tried to ask, his tongue would turn to lead and the moment would pass, the question still left unsaid and simmering at the back of his mind. A Pandora’s Box that held none of the world’s evil but all of Danny’s possible shortcomings.

He could ask the question now.

He could.

He didn’t.

“Why did you take me?”

Talia tilted her head. “It is because you’re my son.”

“No. Not that. It has to be something more than that. You had sixteen years to come back for me—or, hell, you could have just never left me.” His breath hitched, fingers mussing his hair and hiding his eyes. “Why else did you take me?”

“It is true that there was more than one reason why we decided to retrieve you from Amity Park. One of which is because you are my son and an heir of the Demon’s Head.” Talia stilled. The dark skies of dawn made it impossible for him to read her. “The second reason was to protect you.”

“You kidnapped me…to protect me?”

“Knowledge of the ghosts of Amity have spread through the more insidious parts of the world. There are many out there who would pay exorbitant fees to study one of you or to use you.”

Use him? What did she mean by—

Oh.

Ghosts—Amity Park’s brand of ghosts—were a new element that the world had to contend with. Amity Park might have a crime rate of zero but that wasn’t the case everywhere else. Theft, assault, murder; the world was rampant with crimes and criminals clawing their way to the very top. Having ghosts, even ones with the most basic powerset, would be a huge advantage.

“There’s no way that would work,” Danny insisted. “Most ghosts just want to be left alone, and the ones that want to wreak havoc would never work with humans. The only reason they even work with halfas like me at times is because they still consider us as ghosts.”

“If my sources are to be believed, ghosts might not even get a choice.”

Danny’s blood curdled in his veins.

No.

Someone’s found a way to control ghosts.

#danny phantom #batman #danny phantom x batman crossover #dp fic #phantom children.txt

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mcufox123 · 3 years

Text

The Worst of You

Wanda Maximoff x fem reader

Synopsis: You have defeated Thanos but what does that mean for your relationship with Wanda.

A/N: In this story all of the characters survive Endgame because they just do. This is just part one, another part will be coming out soon. Also I wrote this based off the Noah Cyrus and P.J. Harding song “The worst of you.”

Warning: Alcoholism, Self spiraling, grief

I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THESE CHARACTERS!

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

Tony threw another infamous party on Saturday to celebrate one year since you all defeated Thanos and life returning to somewhat normal from the blip. The world was in chaos with half of the population returning that everyone was everywhere helping out wherever they could. It had been about a year now and things were finally getting back to normal. The Avengers had not been together at the compound since Thanos was defeated, so in a way the party was celebratory. You and Wanda however were not in the celebratory mood.

You and Wanda had been dating for almost 3 years now, theoretically. Your relationship had started before the blip, sneaking off to see each other was very romantic. Two years into the relationships the blip happened. She was gone, dusted. It devastated you. You two were conjoined at the hip, so her being gone left you lost. For the first 3 years after the blip, you worked so hard to get everyone back, to get Wanda back. By the end of year 3 however you crashed. You flipped out at Natasha, the one person who had been there for you. You stopped eating, only when you absolutely had to. And you almost never left your room. You had spiraled now realizing that your love might be gone forever.

By year 4 you had hardened yourself from all emotions. The only people who could see you, were Nat and Steve. You went on missions for them but when you returned you gave your report then went right to your room. You got drunk nearly every night. Drinking until you were numb from the pain and eventually passed out. That’s how the rest of the blip went, until Scott Lang showed up at the compound. You did not even indulge any bit of hope. You weren’t going to get excited about something that may not even come true. When everyone started to put in the work however, you helped. You played along with their plan.

After getting all of the infinity stones, when Bruce snapped, you did feel a bit of hope and it continue to grow when Clint’s phone range and it was Laura. That’s when you blacked out for a second when Thanos destroyed the compound. The fight that ensued was hard. Not everyone was back. They few that were fighting were injured. That’s when all of these portals started opening with all of your friends who you hadn’t seen in 5 years. It brought tears to your eyes. Not for long as the fighting continued. You did not even see Wanda during the fight. You only met her when all of Thanos’ army began to disappear. You sprinted as fast as your feet would take you to hug her in a huge embrace. You squeezed her so hard and cried into her shoulder. Your 5 years only seemed to be 5 minutes for her. You kissed her hard. Putting in all the pain and need into that kiss as your mouths moved in sync.

After the fight was over a majority of you moved into Stark Towers until the compound was cleaned up and rebuilt, but most of you were never there, always on missions. You and Wanda, after the first few blissful weeks of being back fell into a pattern. You always got drunk out of habit now and she was asleep by the time you went to bed, and she was always gone before you woke up in the morning running somewhere to save people. You weren’t into helping as much as she was. You felt that you had given 5 long years to helping people, it was time for someone else to step up, and of course Wanda thought that meant her.

Neither of you communicated as much with each other. She saw you spiral, she asked “Y/N, are you ok? I’m here babe I'm back you can talk to me.” She begged with glossy eyes. You however just shrugged her off “I’m fine Wanda, just leave it alone.” And you walked out to where the bar was and grabbed the whiskey, not even bothering to take a glass. Wanda didn’t ask again after that. She was trying so hard herself not to spiral so instead she kept her distance. This is how the past year went. You went to parties together and pretended everything was fine, putting on a great act in front of the team when you saw them. The nights that you pretended never involved going to bed, you would stay up in each other’s embrace, trying so hard to return to normal. After both of you were finished, you always put on clothes and walked out of the room to grab a drink, most the time crying. Wanda stayed in bed watching you leave as silent tears rolled down her face.

Both of you were so broken and couldn’t fix each other. But neither of you could bear the thought of leaving each other. You had already lost her for 5 years and you were not going to lose her again, you loved her so much still and wanted to get back to the place you both were. Wanda on the other hand still loved you. She could see your pain, the hurt you went through. She wanted so bad just to hold you in her arms and take all of the pain and suffering away. But every time you both tried the other person would just shut down.

Tony’s one year anniversary party, although supposed to be fun, was torture. You were already pretty drunk, and the party hadn’t even started a half an hour ago. Wanda was pissed. You were constantly leaning on her trying to keep your self up right and failing miserably. She decided to move you both to the couches where Steve, Nat, and Tony were talking. You’re eyes drooped shut, and you weren’t quite asleep but there was no way you could have a decent conversation.

“You holding up ok kid?” Tony asked Wanda, who had her head in her hands.

“As best I can. I’m worried about her. She gave so much, and I feel like the cost is me losing her.” Wanda said now wiping a tear away from her face. Nat quickly got up to hold Wanda in an embrace.

“What do you need to do? What do you need us to do?” Steve asked. He wanted to have a plan that all of them could work on to help you.

“I can’t hurt her,” Wanda said in a whisper, “But I can’t keep hurting myself either.”

You heard this and wanted to scream, you wanted to run far away. Away from all the pain, and sorrow that you have caused. But you just laid there like a drunk idiot. After that you didn’t hear anymore. The thoughts continued running and eventually you did fully pass out.

“Why don’t you go away for a little? Be at peace with yourself and come to terms with everything. We’ll take care of Y/N.” Steve suggested.

“You can come stay at the cabin near my house. You can help Pepper with Morgan and have the space you need. I could use a little help cleaning the grounds and your help would make it 10 times easier.” Tony continued.

“At least think about it Wanda. We all just want to help, and I’ll keep my eye on Y/N, let you know how she’s doing.” Natasha finally finished. Wanda wanted so bad to take them up on their offer right then and there. But she couldn’t help loving the worst part of you and this relationship you both were in.

She told them she would think about it, before waking you up and taking you to bed. She cleaned off your makeup, changed you into pajamas, and put you in bed. Before climbing in herself she just sat on the edge of the bed. Staring at you and how at peace you looked. Wishing that you could stay like this all the time. She wanted so badly to help you through this time, but she was slowly losing herself. She finally crawled into bed and cuddled closer to you which she hadn’t done since you pushed her away once. This was one night when you both slept completely, no nightmares waking either of you up.

The next morning you woke up with an awful headache. You weren’t going to reach next to you because you didn’t think Wanda would be there, but she was. To you this meant that you had did something right last night, but you can’t remember what. You walked into the kitchen to get coffee for you and Wanda, deciding to continue your good streak with her today. When you enter your surprised to see Steve, Natasha, and Tony all talking. They quiet down when you enter the room.

“Love when people act like they aren’t talking about me.” You say in a snarky tone.

“Maybe we wouldn’t be talking about you if you got your shit together Y/N.” Tony replied just as aggressively.

“That’s rich coming from the man who disappeared into the woods for 5 years while the world fell apart.” You yell back. You were slamming things now, getting angrier and angrier. You saw Steve eye Tony, as Natasha got up and walked towards you.

“Breath Y/N” she soothed as she came closer to you and gave you a hug. You took deep breathes as you calmed down. A tense silent took over the room.

“Y/N, look I'm sorry. I’m just worried about you. Morgan misses you, ya know? She always asks when Elsa is coming back to visit. And well you’re not ok Y/N. I want you to be ok. I want the badass who fought beside me in every battle. Who also was having fun with me and going to fun places being the life of the party. Who always remembered what happened the day after the party and would most the time scold me. I want to help you can I help you?” Tony says while making his way over to you eventually placing his hands on your shoulders making you look at him.

“Shut up Tony. I would still be that person if you didn’t abandon us. I would still be that person if we didn’t fail. If I didn’t spend 5 years wondering if there was something I could’ve done to prevent all of this. If I could’ve saved everyone. If there was something I could’ve done to save her.” You push him away and abandon the cups of coffee you were making. Instead, you walked to the bar only to find it empty. This pissed you off. You kick the cabinets underneath. He was getting to you, bringing up all of the feelings that you try to keep buried. You couldn’t tell them; you couldn’t burden them any longer.

You eventually broke down with your hands on the bar. No one moved this time to comfort you seeing the ice that was forming on your hands. After a few minutes you composed yourself.

“I need to take a walk. I need to get out of here for a bit.” You say while grabbing your keys and walking out the door, not bothering to look back. You headed right for the local bar.

Back at the compound everyone wasn’t as ok with you leaving.

“What do we do?” Tony asked while looking at his friends. Bruce had now joined the breakfast crew.

“I suggest therapy, we don’t know if medication will have an effect on her. I think she also needs to go away, get some sense knocked back into her, maybe Wakanda?” Bruce suggested.

“They are both going to be devastated if we send her away. I think she needs to stay here and get help here.” Natasha challenged. She had both you and Wanda’s interest at heart.

“She can’t stay here with Wanda; they will both continue to destroy each other. One of them needs to get out. One of them needs to be ok.” Steve said sadly.

“I’ll talk to Wanda.” Natasha said getting up and heading towards your room. She knocked and waited for a response. All she heard was sniffling on the other side of the door. She walked in to see Wanda curled up on the bed, not even moving when Natasha sat next to her. She pushed some hair out of Wanda’s eyes.

“You’re not ok sweetie, and that’s ok.” Natasha said. “We just want both of you to get better, we miss our friends. She needs help Wanda. You have done everything you possibly could, but this is out of any of our control. We need to get Y/N help. She’ll come back to you I promise.” Natasha said trying to comfort Wanda. Wanda didn’t say anything though, just cried harder holding onto Natasha like a child who lost their favorite stuffed animal. Natasha sat there and comforted Wanda until she quieted down again.

“Tony called Happy, and he can be here in an hour and a half to get you. Pepper is setting up the cabin as we speak. This could help you both, this could help you get her back.” She finished as she felt the younger girl hold her tighter. Wanda was afraid that if she let go and went with her then that meant she was giving up on you.

Eventually Natasha pulled away and looked at Wanda in the eyes, “It’s going to be ok; she is going to be ok, you are going to be ok. Do the work, put in the time to get better and it will all be worth it.” Wanda nodded before getting up and walking to her closet to get her suitcase.

Natasha walked out of the room and to the kitchen where Tony, Steve, Bruce and now Sam and Bucky were.

“Well, she’s packing.” Natasha informed them.

“Ok so here is the plan.” Steve continued to tell the rest of them the process they would take to help both of their teammates.

Hours had passed and the time finally came for you to drive home from the bar. You couldn’t even walk in a straight line to the car but it was only a short 5-minute drive. You could pull it together enough for 5 minutes. The drive seemed to be harder this time, with things blurring together. All of a sudden you hear sirens behind you. Of course, of course this would happen to you. The police officer gets out of the car and walks up to your window.

“name?” he says not even bothering to look at you.

“Y/N Y/L/N.” you say just staring at the wheel that can’t seem to stay still.

“Are you aware that you were driving 20 over the speed limit?” he asks finally looking at you. It takes him a moment before he realizes who you are. His eyes widen.

“You’re an avenger. I am so sorry. You do not seem like you are in any condition to drive though, can I call someone?” he asks very apologetically. Being an avenger did have some advantages.

“Yeah, you can call Wanda,” and you gave the man her number. After trying 4 times she still didn’t pick up though.

“Anyone else ma’am?” this irked you to no end. One because Wanda wasn’t answering and two, he just called you ma’am. You didn’t show any signs of aggression however because you didn’t want to scare the poor man. Instead, you gave the one number you knew you could call if you ever got in trouble.

“Yeah, Bucky.” You told him. He called, Bucky picked up and assured the officer he would be there right away. Sam dropped Bucky off not even 5 minutes later and thanked the police officer. He also assured him that the avengers would be taking care of my punishment. You rolled your eyes and looked out the window as he started to drive off. Before giving him time to speak you immediately started.

“Where is Wanda?”

“Y/N I can’t answer that.” He continued driving straight faced.

“Why the hell not? Where is my girlfriend? Is she safe?” you said starting to feel the icicles forming on your hands.

“She’s fine Y/N.”

“Bucky these short answers are really starting to piss me off. Also, what do you mean the avengers are going to be taking care of my punishment? I don’t need a punishment I was fine. I am fine.”

“STOP LYING TO YOURSELF Y/N.” he yelled startling you, “god can’t you see you’re not fine. You need help. You were not ok to drive. You are really lucky that policeman pulled you over before you could do any real damage. I’m sick of this person you have become. You’re hurting me, you’re hurting the team, you’re hurting yourself, and something I don’t think you realized is your hurting Wanda. That girl would die for you. She would do anything to be with you and make this pain go away and your just being so selfish to even try. Get over yourself.” He says frustrated.

His words hit you like bullets though. The final one being that your hurting Wanda. You’re not sure what happens but you look down to see your hand on fire. This has never happened before. You knew that you had ice powers, but fire powers were a new thing. Just before you can do anything you feel a sharp pain in your neck and then the lights go out.

Bucky was stunned the whole way home. Where the hell did the fire come from. As he pulled in the driveway, he asked Tony to come out in the Iron Man suit.

“What the heck happened? Our directions were to go get her bring her back, don’t say anything so we could stage our intervention! Only use the needle if it was an emergency!” Tony asked a very shocked Bucky.

“I’m no expert Tony, but I think her shooting flames out of her fingers is a bit of an emergency.” Bucky says as Tony stared at him wide eyed.

Tony carries you cautiously into the compound and sits you on the couch. Bruce puts the antidote needle into your neck, so you wake up. As soon as the light reaches your eyes your furious.

“What the actual hell?” you sneer at Bucky. You feel the flames in your fingers and look down to see the bottom half of your body engulfed in flames. Oddly enough nothing hurts, and you just feel power. The all cower besides Steve who was ready with a fire extinguisher. You just glared at him, however. You got up from the couch and made your way to your bedroom that you shared with Wanda. Her things were all gone. You felt as though the wind got knocked out of you. She couldn’t be gone, not again. You searched the bathroom the walk-in closet everything, there was no trace of her anywhere. It was like the blip but worse.

Your throat felt as if it was closing up. You could have prevented this; you saw this coming and did nothing to fix it. Unlike the blip you were to blame this time. You chased her away. The one person you cared about the most gave up on you. You were nothing to no one. No family, no friends, no Wanda. You broke, not being able to keep any emotions in any longer. You sobbed. You didn’t know who put their hand on your shoulder, but you turned into them sobbing into their chest.

“It’s alright kid, just let it all out.” Tony murmured into your hair. You had always been closest to Tony before the blip. He was like the older brother you always wanted. After he went to the woods it felt like he had given up on you, but here in his arms you knew he hadn’t. He held you for a long time while you sobbed. When no more tears came, and the hiccups started getting annoying he guided you to the kitchen. Everyone sat around the table not saying much with a water in front of each. The only seats that were empty was yours, Tony’s, and Wanda’s. Your heart sank a bit.

“Come have a seat Y/N” Natasha summoned you to the seat next to her.

Bruce was the first to break the silence. “how are you feeling Y/N?”

“Like a complete failure. Like I lost the one good thing in my life. I need help guys. I'm messed up.” You said keeping your eyes focused on the fingers in your lap.

“Hey, I have something for you.” Steve says reaching across the table. Tony interjects “You think now is a good time?”

“She admitted she needs help; she deserves to see this.” Steve walked around the table to hand you the piece of paper. You see your name written in an all too familiar handwriting, Wanda’s. You unfold the paper quickly to read its contents:

My love, Y/N, I love you with all of my heart. I always have and I always will. I am not ok though. I need some time to process all of the events that have happened. I need to be ok again to even start being able to help you. I have had so much grief and you made it all go away at one point. You are the light of my life Y/N, and I'm not strong enough to be yours yet. This isn’t a goodbye; this is a see you later until we both get the help we need. I will be back and I love you so much. Don’t be afraid to let go and open up, you will feel so much better my love. Yours forever, Wanda xx

You felt even more awful now that you know it isn’t over. She’s giving you the time to get better and you will. You will get the help you need; you will do the work.

“How do I get better?” you say with a determined look on your face. They all stare at you shocked but a glimmer of hope passes by all of their eyes.

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #scarlett witch #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff #black widow #captain america #steve rogers #Tony Stark #iron man #Bucky Barnes #Bruce Banner #avengers #the avengers

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sunnyville36 · 3 years

Text

Mamihlapinatapai {part 4}

We're almost to the end!! Much love to all of you for reading 💜

Need to catch up? {overview} {part 1} {part 2} {part 3}

Pairing: Bang Chan x Female Reader

Themes: royal au, medieval au, court intrigue, arranged marriage, original characters, mutual pining, slow burn

Warnings: mentions of death/war/murder, mentions of torture (brief), mentions of physical abuse (brief), emotionally abusive parents

Rating: Mature

Word count: 5.4k

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Mamihlapinatapai - (noun, Yagán origin) a silent acknowledgement and understanding between two people, who are both wishing or thinking the same thing (and are both unwilling to initiate)

Instincts | Kingdom of Gu, present day

You’d slept maybe a total of twelve hours in the three days since the poisoning attempt. Things were still tense between you and Chan after your outburst at the pond. The king didn’t want him leaving the safety of his chambers, not knowing if there would be another attack on his life, which meant you only really saw him at mealtimes. You’d tried to apologize for raising your voice at him a few times but could never manage to look him in the eye, always leaving the room before he could say anything more than a thank you for the food. You were also avoiding him because you felt you’d revealed something in those words, a small part of the way you felt about him, and you weren’t ready to confront any of the implications from that just yet. At night, you couldn’t sleep, your thoughts full of fear for Chan’s safety and concern for what would happen between Gu and Lajor. So you’d spent the hours wandering the outskirts and corridors of the castle, lingering especially in the wing where the prince’s room was.

It was on the third night of your rounds, as you were walking the eastern side of the castle that faced the forest, the air humid and suffocating on your skin, that you spotted a flash of gold hair headed for the base of the closest tower. You turned and followed the hooded figure as they approached the castle entrance, and the growing sinking feeling in your stomach was confirmed when their face caught the light.

You had to hand it to her, she either had a death wish or nerves of steel to show up here again.

Korenna was attempting to break through the bolt on the door when you pulled up behind her, bringing a hand to her mouth and a knife to her throat.

“I could kill you where you stand, and no one would protest at my decision.”

“You could, but I don’t believe you will,” she responded, voice calmer than you expected.

You whipped her around to face you, snarling in a whisper, “Don’t you dare use my own words against me. I said that to you when I thought I could trust you, and you’ve made it blatantly clear that was a misjudgement on my part.”

“Y/n no please listen it wasn’t. I know I was rude and standoffish - “

“Rude and standoffish?!” you repeated in disbelief. “Sure that’s definitely what we’re talking about right now. You know, I always thought maybe it was because you were a shy person, or because you were jealous, but, as it turns out, you just aren’t one of those people who likes to get really close to the person she’s trying to murder.”

Korenna looked like she was about to cry, leaning forward as if to grab at your arms despite the knife still pointing at her throat. “Please, Y/n, that’s not what I meant, I can explain! Do you really think you were so wrong about me; do you really think I could kill a man in cold blood?”

You shouldn’t even be entertaining her excuses, you thought to yourself. She was trying to use your pride against you, to trick you into letting her explain herself so you didn’t have to admit you were wrong. But, like always, as you watched her, trying to discern any ounce of deceit or malice, you found none.

You lowered the knife, stepping back and motioning for her to continue.

“You know that my father was crazy enough to try to invade Gu all those years ago. What you don’t know is that he’s only gotten more delusional and power hungry over all these years, hell bent on taking down your kingdom as revenge against King Bang and completely disregarding the well being of his own. Last year, I had been trying to gather support from the ministers, to show them just how corrupt, how evil he had become. That was when my mother died and my father finally snapped, leaving me and my nine year old sister completely at the whim of his wrath. He locked Paige away at some secret fortress and told me that if I didn’t agree to his plan of killing Prince Chan and wreaking havoc on your kingdom, he would leave her alone to starve to death. He gave me three weeks to decide and I searched for her desperately, but at the end of it I was no closer to finding her and was forced to agree to the marriage he had arranged to initiate his plot.”

“Why should I believe any of this?”

“Because she’s here, right now. We crossed the border with a small group of knights who are sympathetic to our position. They wanted to help me, and I want to help you, but I had to make sure my sister was safe. Now that she is, we can work together to protect your kingdom and hopefully preserve mine.”

You were silent, taking her and her story in.

“If you could just bring me to Chris, let me tell him all of this, apologize for what I did,” she pleaded, eyes begging even more than her words.

“Fine. I will bring you to His Highness, and he will decide what to do with you.”

***

You led Korenna past the guards, neither of them giving you a second look when they saw it was you despite your concealed companion. Chan was known for burning the midnight oil, and tonight was no different. You could see the light drifting out from beneath his door as you knocked lightly, and were met with his quiet, “Come in.”

You opened the door, remaining in the door frame as he turned to face you. “Your Highness, there’s someone here to see you,” you said, stepping aside and pushing Korenna in front of you before you followed in and shut the door.

Chan sat still for a moment, then leaned back in his chair, legs and arms crossed in his most casual yet intimidating pose.

“Unless my oldest friend has decided to kill me tonight, which I certainly hope is not the case, you must have had a pretty convincing reason for her to bring you here.”

Korenna remained silent, looking between you and the prince nervously.

Chan rolled his eyes, clearly frustrated. “Well? Let me hear it.”

She told him everything, about her father’s plot and her involvement, the threats against her sister, how she had support from the knights and probably a fair majority of the people as well.

“I know you could never forgive me for what I did, but I am truly, sincerely sorry,” she said, head bowed.

The prince seemed to be contemplating her story just as you had. Finally, his voice broke the silence.

“Show me this sister of yours and then I will decide how we proceed.”

***

You walked next to Chan as you followed Korenna into the forest where her sister was supposedly waiting with the Lajoran knights. You didn’t like this plan, knew if Korenna’s description was true, you and Chan would be severely outnumbered should things turn south, but Chan had insisted on only taking you with him. He looked unusually pensive as you walked, and you decided to take this opportunity to give your apology, in case it happened to be your last.

“Your Highness,” you said quietly, “I’ve been meaning to tell you how sorry I am for how I spoke to you by the pond. You were only trying to comfort me and I took my insecurities out on you and you didn’t deserve that.”

He put his arm out in front of you, stopping you in your tracks.

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me? Y/n, I’ve been trying to ask you for three days if you were alright and all this time you’ve been feeling guilty? Please, please don’t feel that way, I would never blame you for what happened and I was never upset about our conversation. Promise me you won’t keep anything like this from me again?”

You looked at each other and you nodded, both silently agreeing not to touch on the part of that previous conversation where you revealed something else you’d been keeping from him.

The two of you jogged back up to where Korenna had stopped at a small, raised hill surrounded by rocks. It certainly was a good vantage point and hiding spot. Once again, you hoped your instincts about this woman and her intentions would be correct.

Korenna led you around the corner of one of the rocks, and that was when you saw the young girl. She was lying wrapped in a blanket despite the heat, and her hair looked dirty and matted. The men sitting around her straightened as Korenna approached the group, but she held up her hand to show them you were on their side. The girl lifted her head when she heard your footsteps, her gaunt face morphing into a smile at the sight of her sister.

“Korenna, you’re back,” she rasped as the elder knelt and wrapped her in a hug, and your heart broke at the sound of her barely there voice.

“Your Highness…”

“I know,” he said, reading what you were going to say from the tone of your voice, “we need to get her to Felix.”

You both approached the pair and you knelt down next to Korenna, speaking softly to the younger princess.

“Hello Paige. My name is Y/n. I’m a friend of your sister. She’s brought you a really long way to make sure you’re safe, and we’re going to get you some help now so you can feel better. Would that be alright with you?”

The little girl nodded, and you looked up at Korenna, silently asking permission to pick her up. Korenna nodded as well, so you gathered Paige into your arms and began the trek back to the palace, some of the knights following along with you. You looked behind you to see Chan place his hand on Korenna’s shoulder.

“Thank you for showing me. Together we’re going to make this right.”

Conscription | Kingdom of Lajor, present day

“Your Majesty, the villagers are reporting they have no more men to send, and those in the city have been rioting for two days since the conscription announcement went out. The knights can barely keep the peace and we have more and more deserters every day. I’m just not sure we should continue hounding the people - ”

King Eunther looked up from his seat in the throne room, cutting the man off with a steely, impenetrable gaze.

“Sir Bavrard, do the people control this kingdom?”

“N-no, Your Majesty.”

“And do the knights?”

“No, Your Majesty.”

“Then please explain to me why you are suggesting we listen to the complaints of those ungrateful, insubordinate traitors over my own direct orders?!” the king shouted, Sir Bavrard cowering beneath him.

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty, I just don’t know what else we can do to compel such a large uprising - “

“I’ll tell you what you can do,” King Eunther snarled, rising from his chair, “you can tell them that if they don’t cooperate, you will bring them to stand in front of me and I will personally remove their head from their body. Do I make myself clear?!”

32 men died that day.

Checkmate | Kingdom of Gu, present day

You entered the infirmary, walking over to where Prince Felix sat at the bedside of a much healthier looking Paige.

“Y/n!” she called, her head peeking around Felix’s shoulder to smile at you.

“Hello little princess,” you said, returning her smile as you came to stand beside Felix. “I’m glad to see you doing much better. Do you mind if I borrow your companion for a moment?”

“Nope!” she pronounced, going back to the book she’d been reading as Felix followed you to the corner of the room.

“You were right, her condition is much improved,” Felix said. “I’m still a little worried about her malnourishment, but as long as she remains well fed and warm, she should be alright.”

“That’s good news; Princess Korenna will be glad to hear it. She wanted me to thank you for tending to her, Your Grace.”

“I’m delighted to!” he exclaimed quietly. “She’s got quite the personality in that little body of hers, kept me on my toes the last few days.”

As if on cue, Paige piped up from behind the two of you, “Felix, could I have that glass of orange juice you’d said you’d bring me? I waited ten minutes like you said.”

“See?” he said with a smile and a raise of his eyebrows, turning to leave the room. You followed after him, sending a wave and a wink to the princess on your way.

You headed back to the throne room, where King Bang, Chan, Korenna, Minho, and the rest of the head knights were gathered. They’d been discussing their plans for the imminent Lajoran attack for a few days now, Korenna and her knights filling in any gaps of knowledge or speculating on Eunther’s strategies when they could. You’d been in attendance as well, taking notes, marking maps, and giving suggestions every once in a while. Battle planning had never been your favorite task; you couldn’t help but think about all the senseless loss that came from two men getting into a pissing contest over who should control what land or trying to ‘avenge their honor.’ Surely there had to be a better way, especially in this situation where it was clear the Lajoran people were not exactly in support of their ruler, to defeat a rogue king without the death of innocent people.

Entering the room, you caught eyes with Korenna, who walked over to meet you in the far corner.

“Prince Felix says she’s still stable, Your Grace. As long as we keep her here and watch that she’s getting enough food, she should recover just fine.”

“Oh thank god, what a relief,” Korenna sighed, placing one hand on your arm and one over her chest. “I can’t begin to thank you all enough for what you’ve done for us.”

Your ears perked at that. Korenna seemed like she also despised the loss of innocent life, considering she hadn’t even been able to kill her father’s enemy despite her own sister being in danger. Maybe you could suggest your proposal to her and she could advocate for it, as a way of repaying you all and preventing more death.

“Actually, Your Grace, if I may, there is something I was considering. There may be a potential way to prevent an all out battle between our two peoples, if what you’ve told us is true about your father’s current standing amongst your citizens. If you were to propose it, the others might take more kindly to it than if it came from me.”

Korenna didn’t say anything, so you took that as a sign to continue. You explained what you had been turning over in your head for the past few days, checking a few of the details with her. When you finished, the princess looked a little apprehensive.

“I am in total support of that plan, Y/n,” the princess explained. “But I worry that if it comes from me, King Bang is going to reject it outright. I can tell he is not as convinced of my intentions as you and Chris are.”

She had a point. If the plan were to come from her, it would probably seem more suspicious, more likely to be a trap. However, you feared the king wouldn’t consider you proposing such a plan to be much more trustworthy.

Korenna seemed to be reading that exact thought on your face as she said, “Why don’t you angle it towards Chris; I know he holds your input in high regard.”

You felt your heart tug at her statement, but pushed those thoughts to the back of your mind. Korenna was right; you could do this. You nodded at her and you both returned to the table.

The men were talking, so you tried clearing your throat, but that seemed to do nothing to get their attention. Noticing your hesitation, Korenna interrupted.

“Gentlemen, I believe Y/n has something to say.”

You smiled gratefully at her then turned your attention to Chan. If you could just remain focused on him you were confident you could explain your plan and maybe even convince them to buy in to it too.

“Your Highness, I’ve been thinking of a way that we could perhaps avoid any direct conflict with Lajor. We already know that Her Grace has many supporters, as evidenced by our friends here. And according to their reports, the people are in no position to support a war; this is all one man’s doing. So if we can eliminate that one man, our problem would be solved.

I propose we arrange a meeting with King Eunther. Somewhere neutral, away from the majority of our armies. We frame it as a truce meeting, have him go into it thinking he will get some concessions from our side in order to prevent a fight. In reality, we use it as a chance to capture him unawares. Her Grace can confront her father, and if our information is correct, the knights and soldiers will take her side and we can end this situation with zero loss of life and a new friend on the Lajoran throne.”

You glanced at Korenna and saw she was smiling brightly at you. Looking back at Chan, you could tell he was seriously considering what you had said, head pressed together with Minho in quiet conversation. The Lajoran and Guan knights were murmuring to each other, indicating agreement with what you’d proposed. The only person who appeared to be against it was King Bang.

“Using deception and ambushing a man has always been considered dishonorable,” the king spat, as if you had insulted the very foundation of the kingdom. “Wars are meant to be fought on the battlefield and our army could easily outpace Lajor’s; there are expectations and traditions that should be upheld.”

It took everything in you not to scream at him, to unleash a lifetime’s worth of anguish caused by his ignorance and arrogance. You’d had enough of hearing this man talk about all the noble pursuits of battle without ever having to face the consequences of one. You turned to him, your chin held high.

“Forgive me, Your Majesty, but this is not about the “honor” of taking him down on the battlefield. This is about not sacrificing the lives of men to maintain your own sense of righteousness.”

The room went silent at that. You kept your eyes on the king, could feel him seething under his impartial expression. Under any other circumstances, the punishment for what you’d just said would be severe. But everyone in the room was starting to come to the realization that your plan had merit. It would be faster, easier, less costly, and less deadly than simply bracing for an attack, no matter how “dishonorable” it might seem. And even the king knew now was not the time to berate you, though you were sure it would come back to haunt you later.

You felt Chan press his hand to the small of your back, the sign of support giving you more strength. “Y/n is right. Even if we would be likely to take a victory in battle, her plan has the best chance of rooting out the cause of our problem here and now and placing both our kingdoms in a better position for the long term. If anyone disagrees, they should speak now.”

Everyone kept silent, some nodding their heads in agreement with the decision.

“Then we shall prepare to execute it.”

***

You avoided the throne room as much as possible for the next few days as preparations were made, wanting to have as little interaction with the king as you could. Chan had praised you after the meeting, had said he was proud you’d spoken up to his father. You knew the prince had the best of intentions, but you also knew he could never understand what it was like to know that by doing what you did, you’d surrendered yourself to whatever punishment the king saw fit to assign after this ordeal came to an end.

A rider had been dispatched to Lajor to deliver the terms of your meeting. In the letter, Gu had agreed to secede the western most portion of its territory as well as deliver half its military forces to Lajor. The only stipulation was an in person meeting to sign the documents. As suspected, King Eunther was too tempted by power to see through your guise, thin as it may have been. The meeting was set for today at noon.

Armies from both sides were prepared, in case this peace offering did not go smoothly. The plan was to bring you, Chan, Korenna, King Bang, Minho, the Lajoran knights, and a few members of your own royal guard to the meeting place, which was designated to be the same spot in the forest where the earlier attempt on Chan’s life took place.

Hours before the meeting, you were making your way through the forest as quickly and quietly as you could, bow strapped to your back and dressed in your most inconspicuous woodland attire. You were to arrive at the grove early so you could take your position prior to anyone else arriving, or, in the worst case, report back if an enemy agent was attempting to do the same. It was decided earlier that you would walk there alone, in order to leave as little trace as possible.

You didn’t mind the solitude as you meandered through the woods, trying not to leave an obvious trail behind you. Before you’d left, Korenna had come to confirm with you the signal for your part of the plan. Then, just as you were about to enter the forest, a voice called your name.

“Y/n!”

“Your Highness, you should be preparing with the others.”

“I know I-I just had to see you before you go. To tell you goodluck.”

You looked at him and, steeling yourself for what you were about to do, tugged him into a crushing embrace. He returned the hug, his head close enough to hear you whisper, “You too.”

Both of you were well aware of the hundreds of unspoken things behind the brief words you exchanged, but they were all that needed to be said for now.

You reached the clearing and found the tree with the best camouflage that had the vantage point you wanted. Climbing up, you settled in for the long wait until the rest of the players arrived.

***

After about two hours, you heard the distinctive clopping of hooves coming from the direction of the Gu palace. A few moments later, your friends came into sight of the clearing. Remaining hidden, you watched as they fanned out into a semi-circle facing the direction of Lajor, King Bang and Korenna in the center.

Minutes passed and the Lajorans were nowhere to be seen. It felt eerily quiet in the forest, and you began to worry King Eunther had caught on to your plan and was in the midst of attacking the city as you all stood here waiting for him. However, after another few tense minutes, the Lajoran party arrived, consisting of King Eunther, his most trusted advisor Sir Bavrard, and thirty or so additional knights on foot, far more than the agreed upon fifteen. You surveyed them as they formed a group behind Eunther. Most looked anxious, like they weren’t quite sure what they should do in the event they were told to act, others seemed outright bored, and they all appeared to be sorely lacking in food and armament. Just as Korenna had predicted, and just as you’d counted on for your plan to work.

“Sir Alfrey,” Eunther began, spotting Korenna’s biggest supporter on his horse beside her, “I should have known you’d be behind all this.”

Your friends remained silent, their expressions blank.

The king seemed slightly unnerved at the lack of response, and decided to try another tactic. “So, am I to believe you brought my daughter here as a gesture of good faith, an additional item to be returned to me in the terms of our... arrangement?”

Chan’s even tempered voice rang out. “She is not our prisoner; she came to us of her own free will.”

“And what of my younger daughter, Paige?”

“Don’t. Speak. Her name,” Korenna gritted out.

“Oh Korenna, you stupid girl; you’re the whole reason we’re in this unpleasant mess, so just stay quiet and let the men do the talking.”

You felt an angry coil rise in the pit of your stomach at his words, more resolved than ever to execute your plan and free Korenna from this abuse for good. Taking your stance, you kept your eyes trained on the Lajoran king.

“No, father. I will not stay quiet,” Korenna spoke again. It had been agreed she would do most of the talking; the more riled up the king became the more reckless he would be, and his daughter talking back to him seemed to do the trick perfectly.

Eunther opened his mouth to say something, but before he could speak, Korenna continued. “We did not ask you here today to sign a truce or give you any concessions to appease you. We came here to put an end to this feud and an end to your rule. You have irresponsibly and unjustly led our people, going so far as to torture and kill them when they do not agree with your machinations. It is my obligation to remove you from the throne for the sake of our kingdom. You will surrender to us now and I will walk our men off this battlefield and home to their families.”

You knew it would be your cue soon, your arm pulling back to anchor an arrow at the corner of your mouth.

“I think you can see my forces far outnumber yours at the moment,” the king said, gesturing to the knights behind him. “And sadly you seem to believe our people are as disloyal as you are, an unfortunate misjudgement. Why would I ever agree to your weak-minded, insolent little proposal?”

You let the arrow fly, and watched as it sailed just past Eunther, nicking his ear and drawing the tiniest drop of blood.

In the ensuing chaos caused by the seemingly rogue arrow, your team of knights rushed the Lajoran side, many of them laying down their weapons immediately in the face of the much healthier, much better armed Guan force. You looked to see Minho drag Bavrard out from where he was crouched under the legs of his horse, lest an arrow attempt to find him as its target. The other royals from your party remained safe in their position below and slightly to the left of your own. Satisfied, you notched another arrow.

King Eunther put his hand to his ear, feeling the cut, and rose his gaze to find you perched in the treetops above. “You missed.”

“I assure you,” you heard Chan say, “if she’d wanted it, you’d be dead.”

“I don’t want to kill you father,” came Korenna’s softer-edged voice. “But if your choice is not to surrender, well, I’m afraid you’ve forced my hand.”

The smug look finally left the king’s face, his eyes darting around to see his companions abandoning him. He got down from his horse, arms open wide in a begging posture mirroring his attitude that had shifted on a dime, hoping to win over his daughter with fake apologies and promises. Damn, you thought, this man really doesn’t have a principled bone in his body.

“Korenna, daughter, please don’t do this. I’m sure we can - “

An arrow landed in the grass between his feet. He’d taken one step too close for your liking.

“Sir Alfrey,” Korenna instructed, “please take my father into custody.”

The king blanched as the knight dismounted and stepped forward, a steady stream of curses leaving his lips.

“I will get my revenge on you, you impudent little girl! How do you think you will succeed in this plan of yours without me; you know nothing of running a kingdom! You should watch your back, dear daughter, for I will always be lurking; I swear to you, you will never be rid of me!”

“Actually, father,” Korenna said, riding past him on her striking white mare, “I already am.”

Reign | Kingdom of Lajor, present day

Standing outside the palace gates hand-in-hand with Paige, you couldn’t keep the smile off your face. You’d just exited the carriage that had carried King Bang, Chan, you, and the little princess back to her kingdom. Korenna’s coronation was happening today, and luckily Paige had recovered enough to travel just in time to make it for her sister’s momentous occasion.

After Korenna had successfully confronted her father, she had made her way to the waiting Lajoran army and proclaimed there would be no battle. They’d rejoiced and, unlike her father’s deluded assumption of the opposite, the kingdom had welcomed her as their ruler with open arms. You and the others had returned to announce the good news to your own citizens, and to Paige, who was ecstatic at her sister’s triumph. The last few days had been spent drafting amendments and additions to your trade agreements and foreign policy documents; with Korenna on the throne, Lajor and Gu’s relationship would transform from one of hostility to one of cooperation. In all the bustle, you’d somehow managed to avoid a confrontation with King Bang over your behavior at the war table that day, but you couldn’t help thinking it was only a matter of time before the other shoe dropped.

You were ushered inside, hundreds of people weaving in and out amongst the beautifully decorated corridors as you found your way to the throne room. You left the royals to take their seats at the front of the crowd while you went in search of your mother.

Many attendees from Gu, knights, servants, and citizens alike, had come to observe the ceremony, as a kind of display of support and camaraderie for your kingdom’s newly found ally. You found your mother along the left side wall in a relatively uncrowded spot and took your place to watch your friend as she approached the priest who would bestow upon her the title of Queen of Lajor.

Between the hum of the clergymen reciting holy texts and oaths, you heard your mother whisper, “She knows not the sacrifice she makes to hold this position.”

You thought back to every conversation you’d had with Korenna, how in each and every one she demonstrated a profound devotion to her kingdom and her people. “I think she does,” you responded.

“It must be daunting, knowing that responsibility sits on your shoulders from the very beginning.” She saw your gaze shift from Korenna to Chan, seated at the front of the room next to his father, looking proudly up at the princess.

“I can only imagine.”

She paused, then continued, “Do you think you could bear that burden?”

Your mother was well aware of your feelings for the prince, had been since you tearily confessed to her the night of your one and only kiss. So you knew what she meant. Knew the question she was really asking, the question you’d pondered yourself more times than you could count.

Would you sacrifice the relative freedom you enjoyed now, agree to be beholden to a people and their wellbeing, in order to be with Chris, the man you loved?

Surprised at this line of questioning though you were, you answered honestly. “If given the chance, I would bear it a hundred times over.”

Your attention was drawn back to the ceremony then, the priest announcing in a booming voice that Lajor had a new queen, Queen Korenna Dormio, first of her name.

The crowd erupted in applause, and you saw Paige dash up the dias steps to wrap her arms around her sister. You felt the presence of eyes on you and looked to see Chan, his head turned to smile at you in the crowd. You smiled back, and the answer you’d given your mother rang in your mind, as true as you’d ever felt it.

You would give anything for him.

{part 5}

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babybluebex · 3 years

Text

sugar pie, honey bunch [lee bodecker smut]

➽ pairing: lee bodecker x fem!reader(y/n) ➽ word count: 4.3k ➽ summary: lee gets tired of your secret rendezvous at work, so he comes to your house and does something about it. ➽ warnings: NSFW/MDNI. explicit language, smut, unprotected sex (pls wear a condom), daddy kink, degradation, infidelity by both parties, loss of virginity, mentions of anal sex ➽ a/n: if you know me irl no u don’t <3

It was quiet. Too quiet. I hated that. The silence let my thoughts run amok and that was never good for anybody, but least of all me. I had a tendency to overthink things, and quiet and still only amplified that. Knockemstiff, Ohio was the absolute worst place to live if you hated silence, because nothing happened in that little town. About twelve years ago, there had been a veteran who killed himself after his wife died, but that was the loudest thing that had ever happened to my little Knockemstiff. I should know; I worked as a secretary at the police station. I heard all of the gossip from around town. Earlier today, someone had been arrested for being drunk, which I think everyone in Knockemstiff could be in violation of. Every other day was quiet. It was hell.

I could hear the crickets way out in the fields as I walked around the house. Those bugs served as my soundtrack as I found a box of matches and quietly slid a few into my mouth, and I padded through the house until I reached the front door. Knockemstiff was the sort of town where people didn’t use their front doors unless the Pope was showing up; it was all side doors and garages (if you were lucky enough to have one, which most of us didn’t). All that to say, I knew I could smoke by the front door and nobody would smell it.

The night was hot. Oppressive and stifling, nearly suffocating. My skin was tacky against my nightshirt as I struck a match and lit a cigarette, and I leaned up against the side of the house. The moon was full, casting silver light onto my barren front yard and the dirt road that stretched exactly from one side of town to the other that ran in front of the house. It was a weird sort of beautiful. But quiet. Oh so quiet.

Quiet, until I heard the far-off rumbling of a car. It wasn’t unheard of to get visitors in the night-- usually someone coming to ask me about the police station, because nobody had the balls or willpower to call our sheriff after hours-- but the noise drew closer at a snail’s pace. Whoever this was wasn’t in any hurry at all. Finally, a car rolled up in front of the house, the headlights off. There was a moment where I watched the car, then I sighed when the door wrenched open to reveal Lee Bodecker. The sheriff was a nice enough guy, maybe at the risk of being too nice sometimes and a total prick at others, but I was at a loss for why the hell he’d be here this late at night with his cruiser’s lights off. If it were an urgent police matter, he’d have his flashing lights on.

“You shouldn’t do that,” Sheriff Bodecker told me, his voice carrying across the yard.

“Do what?” I quipped.

His boots brushed the porch as he climbed the steps up, and I caught his eye in the moonlight. “Smoking’s unbecoming of a young woman,” Bodecker told me pointedly. “Anyway, it’s a bad habit.”

“You come to lecture me on smoking?” I asked. “I ain’t quite finished typing up that arrest report yet, if that’s what you’re after.”

“No, no,” Bodecker said. “Nah, I ain’t here for that, sugar.”

“Oh?” I said, crossing my arms. “And what are you here for?”

“We’ll get to that soon enough,” Bodecker said. “Ain’t you gonna invite me in? It’s awful late.”

“Exactly why I’m not gonna do that,” I said quickly, taking an exaggerated drag on my cigarette. “People talk, Lee. Blowjobs in the supply closet during lunch break are one thing; showing up to my house unannounced at half past midnight is something else. And I ain’t gonna be no Whore of Knockemstiff, ya hear me? Run along. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Invite me in, Y/N,” Bodecker said, tilting his head down to look me in the eyes. Bodecker was imposing: six feet tall and sturdy as a mule, even if his middle was getting a little soft. He had these steel-blue eyes that cut right to my core and gorgeous eyelashes, with puffy pink lips and a little cleft in his chin. Maybe if he were ten years younger, thirty pounds lighter, with one less marriage, I’d be into him properly, but that wasn’t the case. Our relationship was one of necessity (but aren’t they all?). His pretty little wife had stopped sucking his cock and he had a thing for my pink lipstick. It worked. That wasn’t to say that I didn’t enjoy our little trysts, because I definitely did, but something felt off about this certain encounter. He had never paid me a visit at home before. “Be a good little host for me.”

I huffed and stamped out my cigarette. “Come in, won’t you?” I grumbled, throwing open the squeaky screen door. It felt off to have Lee in my house, but everything about us was off. I guess this was only normal.

I flipped the light on and settled myself against the counter as Lee pulled off his tan sheriff’s hat. His hair was dark as pitch, shorn short on all sides but getting a little long at the top, and little wrinkles appeared at the corners of his eyes as he squinted at the pictures I had on the fridge. “And who’s this?” he asked, pressing his thumb into a picture.

I looked at it and clenched my teeth. “Boyfriend,” I answered simply.

“Oh?” Lee chuckled. “And where is he?”

“Well, right now, he’s in ‘Nam,” I answered. “He enlisted, got sent over.”

“And he didn’t propose before he left?” Lee asked, and I shook my head. “Hmm. Usually when men go to war, they make sure that they’ll have someone waiting for them when they get back.”

“Why are you here?” I asked suddenly. “What do you want?”

“The wife’s mad at me tonight,” Lee said. “She was drinking and started yellin’ at me. Said I was better gone.”

“And you came here?” I said. “Why?”

“Got nowhere else to go,” Lee shrugged. “And I figured that you’d welcome me.”

“You couldn’t go to a bar?” I asked.

“Not unless I wanted to run into my sister,” Lee said. “And I don’t feel like having a fucking lecture.”

I sucked in air through my teeth. “Fine,” I finally said. “But you’re on the couch.”

“Aw, c’mon, babe,” Lee groaned. He approached me at my place at the counter, and his arms went on either side of me, keeping me right where he wanted me. “It’s been a long day for me. You’re not really gonna make me sleep on no stinkin’ couch, are ya?”

“I sure am,” I told him. “‘Cause you’re sure as hell not sleeping in the bed.”

Lee tilted his head. “Not even a good night kiss?” he asked.

“No,” I said. “This is an inconvenience for me. I got shit to do tomorrow and I need sleep.”

“Which is why you were outside smoking,” Lee said.

“Helps me calm down,” I snapped. “Lee. Let me go.”

“You sure are a stupid little bitch, huh?” Lee sneered. “You really think I rolled up to your house just wanting a place to sleep? Honey, you shoulda been expecting more.”

Lee regularly spoke to me like this, but it was usually while I was tying my hair back and kneeling down in front of him. “Don’t call me that,” I said.

“It’s true, though, ain’t it?” Lee asked. “Just a dumb bitch, that’s all you are. You fuck a married man and try to act like you’re better than everyone else. And you don’t think everyone knows?”

My ego deflated in half a second. “Do they?” I asked shakily.

“That’s why the wife kicked me out,” Lee said. “Someone told her I was fuckin’ you, and she got mad. Asked for a divorce and all.”

“We’re not fucking, though,” I tried to counter.

“Oh, so you’ll put my cock in your mouth and call it ‘convienience’, but you draw the line at calling that ‘fucking’?” Lee scoffed. “C’mon, sugar. The whole town already knows it.” I tried to keep my chin up, but I know that Lee saw my lip trembling. “Oh,” he chuckled. “Except the whole town doesn’t know, do they? Your little boyfriend goes to sacrifice himself for the betterment of our fuckin’ country, and you’re here, whoring yourself out for me? Is that why you don’t wanna fuck me proper? Saving your first time for that bitch-boy?”

“I’m not a virgin,” I said, but Lee instantly saw through my lie.

“Bullshit,” he said. “You know how I know? You suck cock like a high schooler.” Lee’s hand went to my waist, and he held me a tight, bruising grip. His hands were so much stronger than I had imagined, and an unfamiliar heat bloomed between my legs. My arousal wasn’t usually a part of the supply closet moments between us, and I had never really felt that before my boyfriend left. This was uncharted territory for me, and I hated that Lee seemed to instantly know that. “I bet you think about me every night, don’t you?” Lee asked. He leaned into me and pressed a kiss to my neck, and a shiver ran down my spine. “Don’t you?” He growled, taking my skin between his front teeth.

“Fuck,” I hissed. “You’re a dick.”

“Answer me,” Lee snapped, smacking my ass hard enough to make me gasp in pain. “You think of me fucking you stupid every single goddamn night, don’t you? I can tell, with the way you eye me at the station. You’re not subtle, honey, not in the slightest.”

“Lee,” I whimpered. “You’re hurting me.”

“Good,” Lee huffed into my neck. He shoved his hips against mine with enough force for my waist to collide with my countertop, and I became well and truly stuck between Lee’s rock-hard cock and the counter. I knew what he was offering, and I couldn’t deny that the thought of his thick cock inside of me made butterflies erupt in my tummy. He kissed my neck, becoming more needy by the second, and he finally sank his teeth into my skin. “Gonna have to make up your mind, sugar, or I’ll do it for you.”

I gulped down my anxiety, and I whispered, “Be gentle.”

“That’s a good girl,” Lee chuckled. “Show me where that bed is, sugar. I’m gonna fuck you ‘til you can’t remember your own goddamn name.”

As soon as I pulled Lee into my bedroom, he had pushed me onto the bed and was kissing me hard. He bit my lips and sucked on my tongue, and he swallowed every pathetic moan I let out. God, I was pathetic. I was shaking, I wanted him so badly. Lee obviously knew that and had no problem with letting it go to his head, because he situated himself over me and gave me a wolfish smile. “You want me to undress you, sugar?” he asked.

“I can do it,” I told him.

Quickly, I rid myself of my nightshirt, and my skin tingled at the exposure to the air. Lee gave a gentle sigh, almost like one of relief, and dipped his head to my chest. He ran his tongue from the dip of my neck to between my breasts, and he latched his teeth onto one of my nipples with no warning. I nearly gave a shout of surprise, but I kept it contained. If this bit of foreplay was any indication, there would be enough time for shouting and crying later.

“These…” Lee growled, grabbing at my breasts with rough hands. “Perfect fuckin’ tits, sugar, Jesus. Wanna come all over them. I just might have to.”

Lee’s mouth went to my other breast, and one of his hands fluttered down from my chest to my waist, and even lower. Again, without so much as a censure, he pushed a finger past my folds and sunk himself knuckle-deep into my throbbing heat. My back arched against my will and I cried out at the amazing feel of it, and Lee laughed into my tits. “I’m only doin’ this ‘cause it’s your first time,” Lee told me, slowly dragging his finger in and out of me. It was a feeling like nothing I had ever experienced before, and I felt tears welling in my eyes. It was so fucking good. “If I had it my way, I’d already have my cock in you. Have you on your belly, fucking the hell outta you, watching myself fuck you so deep.”

“Please, Lee,” I sobbed.

Through my watery gaze, I saw Lee smile against my chest. “Oh, what a good girl,” he moaned softly. “You’re my little fuck-toy, ain’t ya? Just fuckin’ desperate and begging for it. I guess it won’t take too long to fuck you absolutely stupid, will it?” I shook my head, and I jerked in surprise when his calloused finger drove itself into that spot inside of me. I called out his name; I was too far gone to care about the sick pleasure I knew it gave him. “Beg for it, sugar. Beg me to fuck you dumb.”

“Please, Lee,” I whimpered. “Lee, fuck, please. I-I want you to fuck me so hard, please, babe.”

Lee withdrew his fingers from me and sent a hard slap to my throbbing clit. This time, my gasp was one of genuine pain. “That ain’t what you call me and you fuckin’ know it,” he grunted. “Do it right or don’t do it at all.”

I knew what he wanted, and I was too far gone to care. “Oh, Daddy, please,” I mewled, squirming, longing for his touch once more. “Fuck me, Daddy, fuck me ‘til I can’t walk. I want you so deep in my pussy, please.”

“That’s more like it,” Lee whispered. Then, with a strength that I didn’t know that he possessed, he turned me onto my stomach and tugged my hips into the air. My arms shook as I tried to steady myself, and I felt my wet arousal drip down my thigh. As I tried to steady my breathing and remove the fog from my mind, I heard the sounds of Lee undoing his belt and shoving his pants down his thick thighs. His big hand captured a handful of my hair unexpectedly and he tugged me upright with only a small huff of exertion, and he bit my neck again. Lee Bodecker was an animal, and I liked it that way.

One hand stayed in my hair as his other guided himself inside of me, and I nearly felt sick. The stretch was otherworldly and, dare I say, painful. Maybe the prep he had been doing wasn’t such a poor idea. But I had made my bed; now I had to lie in it. “Slow down,” I panted, feeling the tears return, and I writhed in his grip. “Fuck, Daddy, it hurts.”

“I know it does,” Lee whispered, biting my ear. “But you asked for this. You asked for me to fuck you, and I’m gonna do just that. And ya know what? I think I’ll come in this pretty little cunt. What do you think of that?” I started to protest, but Lee shoved his fingers in my mouth, effectively shutting me the hell up. Even if I wanted to say something, I couldn’t. “Fill you up to the fuckin’ brim, have it drip outta you, it’ll be such a filthy thing to see. Your little boytoy comes home from the war and you’ve been letting an older, married guy stuff you full of cum? You think he’ll like that? Think he’ll wanna share?” Lee snapped his hips forward, fully burying himself inside of me, and I gave a wrecked sob around his fingers. I thought for sure that he would split me in two.

Lee’s fingers dug into my hip as he started a steady rhythm. I truly had no idea how old he was-- I imagined probably late 30s or early 40s-- but he was fucking me hard and fast with the stamina of someone my age. Either he had a lot of expertise in the field or he truly had the fantasy of coming inside of me and was wanting to hurry the process along. The more I thought about it, I realized that I really knew nothing about Lee. Not his wife’s name or if he had kids; I didn’t even know that he had a sister until he had mentioned it earlier. However, something about not knowing was better than knowing. At least, this way, I could sort-of distance myself from the act. I was fucking the sheriff (or, technically, he was fucking me), but we weren’t an item. I was just his favorite toy.

Lee suddenly wrenched my arms behind me and captured them against his chest, fully restraining me and leaving me pliable for him. With his fingers still in my mouth, I could hardly do anything but submit, but I liked that. I couldn’t tell if the throbbing in my pussy was pleasure borne from the way he was punishing my g-spot, or pain derived from his taut balls hitting my wet pussy every second. I had gotten my wish; there was to be no walking in the morning. I could feel spit gathering at the corners of my mouth, and I nearly choked on it, but Lee suddenly slowed down, molding his soft body against my back. “Fuck, honey, I’m gettin’ close,” he panted in my ear. “Now’s the time to tell me if you want me to come in ya or not.”

His fingers left my mouth, and I tried to form any thought. Lee was the only thing in my head, though, and I could only whimper out his name. That was answer enough for him, because he released my arm and shoved me down onto the bed. His hand grasped the back of my neck and held me down as his hips pounded in and out of me, huffing and panting. I never could have imagined that the sound of that would have turned me on as much as it did, but my muscles tightened around his fat cock, and he laughed. “Aw,” he cooed. “Does the little cunt need to come? I’ll be honest, I forgot all about that. Wanna make a mess all over Daddy’s cock, don’t you?”

I answered with a keening whine, but that didn’t seem to be enough for Lee. He smacked my ass hard, surely adding to the redness and bruising that I know already existed, and he fisted my hair tighter. “Answer me, bitch,” he growled. “Say it. Say ‘I wanna come on your cock, Daddy’.”

“I wanna--” I started, and a shudder went down my body when I felt something warm and wet find home on my asshole. I was so far past the point of degradation, and my mind instantly went somewhere else. I had heard about that, sure, but I had never imagined that that could be something that I wanted. And yet, here I was, Lee’s spit coating my ass, mumbling out words that would send me to hell. “Fuck, Daddy. Can you fuck my ass?”

“Oh, is that what you want?” Lee asked. “As tempting as that is, I’ll save that for another night. I’m not sure you’re a virgin, sugar, begging for it up the ass. But, fuck, it looks so good… I guess we have something to look forward to, huh?”

Lee’s arm wound around my body and he instantly went to my poor clit. His fingers had tugged at it enough to make it tender to the touch, and he abused it as he fucked right into my g-spot. “Jesus Christ,” Lee whispered. “Squeezing the shit outta me. I’m serious, honey, let me know if you don’t want me to come in you. You’re about to not-- fuck, Y/N-- have a choice.”

“I want it,” I told him. “I fuckin’ want it.”

That seemed to be the final straw, because Lee sent one more hard fuck into me, and I felt his cock twitch before warmth spilled into my pussy. The squelching as he continued to fuck me through his orgasm was so loud that I was afraid that the whole of Knockemstiff would hear it, but I couldn’t make up my mind on whether I cared or not. Somewhere in the middle of that, Lee cussed and began to rub my belly, whispering sweet things to me that would have felt out of place only minutes before. I didn’t realize that I had come. I liked the feeling of it, though, especially with how sweet Lee was suddenly.

“Good girl,” Lee told me. He shushed me as I moaned and cried, my pleasure edging on pain, and he pushed my hair away from my neck and placed gentle, open-mouthed kisses on my throat. “So, so good for me, ain’t ya? So goddamn pretty when you’re coming all over my cock. I can’t tell you how much I dreamt of this…”

My entire body trembled as Lee pulled out of me, and I collapsed onto my bed, panting and trying to form a coherent thought that wasn’t just the sheriff’s name. Only a few seconds passed before he was on me again, but it felt different this time. Lee moved the two of us under the blankets and rubbed my back, and he kissed my forehead gently. I nearly thought it was love. As my tears dried and feeling returned to my fingers and toes, I became aware that Lee was naked against me. As far as I knew, he hadn’t undressed as he had fucked me. His skin was so warm and it was comforting, and I nuzzled my head into his soft chest. My throat was so dry as I tried to swallow to form words, and Lee titled my face up in order for me to look him in those pretty blue eyes of his.

“How’re ya feeling, sugar?” He asked, his voice as wrecked and raw as mine. “Feelin’ alright?”

“Sore,” I mumbled. “It hurts, Lee.”

“I’m sorry, honey,” Lee whispered, and I knew that he was being honest. Lee was perhaps the biggest jerk in town, his elected title obviously inflating his ego more than it should have, but I never knew that he was capable of being sweet in this manner. “I was real rough with ya and I just shouldn’t have been. I feel plum awful ‘bout it.”

“No,” I croaked, splaying my hands against his chest. Underneath the coarse hair, I could make out white marks on his skin, and I pressed my forehead against him. As I studied his body, I saw more and more of the marks, and it was only when I saw my hip against his that I connected the dots. Stretch marks. My Lee had stretch marks all over him, just like I did. “Please don’t. I woulda stopped you if it was too much. Thank you.”

Lee nodded and sighed into my messy hair. “You looked so beautiful,” he told me. “Any man that calls you his is a lucky fuckin’ bastard, I’ll tell you that much.”

I couldn’t help myself. My lips pressed against my chest, and I took care to kiss every mark I laid my eyes on. “You’re…” I began. “You’re gorgeous, Lee.”

“Nah, knock that shit off,” Lee chuckled. “I ain’t nothin’ compared to you, sugar.”

“No, really,” I told him. “Those big blue eyes, your pink cheeks… Your fat fuckin’ cock--” I laughed at myself, and Lee kissed the top of my head. “You’re the most handsome man I ever met.”

“Even more than your soldier boyfriend?” Lee asked.

“My soldier boyfriend’s like a twig, Lee,” I told him. “There’s nothing there for me. But you…”

“I’m fuckin’ fat, s’what I am,” Lee said with a smile, but I saw the hurt in his eyes. “I’m old and I’m fat--”

“Alright, shut up,” I said. Suddenly, a different sort of desire burned in me, and I pushed Lee onto his back before I straddled his waist. “There ain’t nothing wrong with you, ya hear? You are fucking perfect, Lee.”

The insecurity flashed across his face, darkening his features for only a second. “But the marks--”

I twisted my body to show him my hip and thigh. “I got ‘em too,” I said. “And don’t act like you didn’t see them, not for one second. And what did you do? You didn’t give a shit. I don’t either. They’re a part of you, and you are so sexy, Lee. I wanted to jump your bones from the moment I met you, and nothing ‘bout that’s changed and nothing’ll make it change. And ya know what? I’d reckon you’re stuck with me, so get used to it.”

“Oh, I’m stuck with ya, am I?” Lee asked with a smile. He tugged me down to him, pressing his tongue into my mouth once more, and the ache between my legs was replaced with the now-familiar pleasing tingle. “And I get no say in it?”

“I think you got your say when you wanted to fuck me up the ass,” I said, sinking my teeth into his plush bottom lip. “What a fuckin’ cliche we are, huh? The sheriff fuckin’ his secretary.”

“When I first hired you,” Lee began, his warm hands traveling all over my body, and his fingers took special care to trace the white marks along my thighs, hips, tits, and ass. “My wife hated the idea. She said she was worried that late nights at the station would wreak havoc on me, and having a pretty little thing like you there with me was dangerous.”

“Don’t go talkin’ ‘bout your wife,” I groaned. “That’s such a turn off, Lee.”

“Oh, is it?” Sheriff Lee Bodecker laughed, stuffing his fingers back inside me, just like nothing had ever happened. “‘Cause you seem all wet for Daddy, just the same.”

#lee bodecker #lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker x y/n #lee bodecker smut #lee bodecker fanfic #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan fanfiction #the devil all the time #tdatt #i am SO going to hell #but i had fun uwu

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heyitssmiller · 3 years

Text

Clandestine: Chapter Eleven

I... about 75% of this chapter was not in the outline, and I don’t really know what to do about that fact. This completely ran away from me, but that’s ok I guess.

Characters, as always, belong to the amazing @lumosinlove and a huge thanks again to @donttouchmycarrots for proofreading!! <3

Clandestine Masterlist

CW: hospitals, injury, brief mention of blood, medical drugs

Leo slept. A lot.

Logan knew this was normal; their nurse had reiterated it a few times now. When he did wake up, it was only for a few dazed, confused minutes before he was pulled back under again. The confusion ebbed the more time went on, the effects of anesthesia wearing off, but the dull sheen to his eyes remained. He could fight his way through a brief conversation with him or Finn, and then he was back to sleep. It was probably for the best, Logan told himself. Better than dealing with their present situation, at least.

Finn was curled up uncomfortably in the chair beside him, also sleeping. He normally looked peaceful when he was asleep – lips slightly parted, face relaxed, on his side or stomach with one hand usually shoved under his pillow. After about a week of sharing a hotel room and a bed, Logan knew these things. It wasn’t the same now. Granted, he was in a chair instead of a bed, but still. He was curled up somewhat in a ball, with the leg in a brace stretched out and immobile – an awkward position that almost made him look like a flamingo balancing on one leg. His shoulders were tense, even in sleep, and his jaw was clenched tight. A worry line was furrowed between his eyebrows, steadfastly refusing to smooth out. Logan brushed his knuckles faintly against the bruise on his cheek, plum against porcelain, and sighed. He knew he should be doing the same thing – sleeping, that is – but every time he closed his eyes… well. It wasn’t pretty. Besides, someone needed to keep an eye out. There was only so long the nurse could delay the GSW report.

It was only a matter of time before they were on the run again.

Regulus drifted in and out on occasion, checking in on them. He seemed to be on guard, constantly walking the perimeter of the hospital and keeping an eye out for familiar faces. It put Logan on edge and calmed him down at the simultaneously. He didn’t trust Regulus, not really, but he figured if he was going to sabotage them he would’ve done so already. He’d had ample opportunity, after all.

Logan glanced at the clock. They’d been here for just shy of twenty-four hours now. The sun was starting to rise again, not bringing any answers with it. Loops had been in contact, briefly. They’d received one text message that simply said “stay put” and radio silence after that. He just hoped they had a good plan. Even better if it was safe, too, but Logan wasn’t about to push their luck… if you could even call it that.

For now, this was ok. They were together, they were alive, and they were relatively safe, for now. In that moment, listening to the steady beeps of a monitor and muffled conversations of people in the hallway outside their door and the even breathing of his partners, he couldn’t ask for much more.

***

Nate saw the scowling, intimidating group of people in the lobby and knew they were in trouble.

He had just started today’s shift, still tired from the one the day before, and was in the process of saying his usual hello to the staff working the front desk when he saw them. There were three of them – at least two of which were over six feet tall, looming and muscular and intense. One had a scar traversing down one side of his face, healed but still a beacon that screamed “don’t mess with me”. The short, scary one was right.

He’d submitted the GSW report about ten minutes ago, and here they were.

Fuck.

Nate didn’t even say goodbye to the sweet lady working the desk that day, he just backed away slowly and tried to appear normal as he pushed past the doors. As soon as they closed he broke into a run, headed straight for room 308 and stopping by the nurse’s station for a split second to grab two prescriptions before he was off again. He was almost there when he crashed into someone as he rounded a corner, only avoiding hitting the ground by two arms that snaked out to steady him. He looked up to gray eyes and a vaguely familiar face.

“Sorry.” The guy said and let go of him, frowning when he saw what was no doubt a look of panic on Nate’s face. “You ok?”

He remembered this guy now. He was with the scary short guy and the other two. He wasn’t around much, but Nate had seen him a few times when he’d been making his rounds.

“They’re here.” He blurted, hoping that he didn’t need so say anymore.

He didn’t. in the blink of an eye he was leading the way to room 308 and throwing the door open, which Nate didn’t think was the best idea. He didn’t know what these people did for a living, but it was clearly dangerous. Barging in like that probably wasn’t a good move.

Sure enough, when Nate followed Gray Eyes into the room, the short one was on his feet and had pulled a gun from somewhere, aiming it at the two of them. Gray Eyes stuck his arm out and kept Nate from going any further until Short Angry One recognized them.

Nate used to think this was a relatively safe career path. Sure he might get puked on, yelled at, mentally and emotionally eviscerated by doctors and patients and family members alike on a regular basis, but he’d never felt like his life was in danger.

Maybe he should go into accounting. Just him in an office with a bunch of numbers. Or a museum curator, surrounded by ancient artifacts and not much else. Definitely not people pointing guns at you.

Both the redhead and the blond woke up at the disturbance, one sitting up in a flash and the other just blinking sleepily and frowning in concern. Before anyone else could get a word in edgewise, Gray Eyes blurted out, “They’re here.”

The EKG readings on the monitor spiked, and then it was a flurry of motion. Short Angry One cursed under his breath and pulled Gray Eyes and Nate into the room fully, closing the door behind them. The redhead started throwing the few things they had into his pockets – a phone, some other electronic device Nate couldn’t identify, an old lock, a pen. He shoved his shoes on, unsteady on his feet, and looked to the blond, who was still in a hospital gown and watching with wide eyes. All the color that had been slowly returning to his cheeks was now gone.

Nate steeled his resolve. His job was to save lives, damnit, and that’s what he was going to do.

He jumped into action, pushing Gray Eyes out of the way and unhooking his patient from the monitors before discontinuing the IV drip and pulling the IV out, stopping the bleeding with quick pressure from his hand. “There’s an employee exit down the hall that leads to the parking garage. You guys know how to hotwire a car, by any chance? I’d offer you mine but I don’t have one.”

“I can.” Glaring down at his sling, the blond muttered, “Well. Maybe can is the wrong word.”

Nate let up on the pressure, shrugged his thin jacket off, and helped him slide his good arm through the sleeve, throwing the other side around his shoulder gently. It wouldn’t do much to help, but it was better than nothing. “Can you show someone else how to do it?”

“Maybe.” He said, moving to swing his legs over the edge of the bed and frowning when Nate stopped him. “I can walk.”

Nate smiled. Typical. “That’s what they all say. I’m going to grab a wheelchair, anyways. You’ll be faster that way.” He looked at the others in the room and continued. “I’ll lead you to the exit, but I’m afraid that’s as far as I can take you. I’ll try to find these guys and get them off your trail as best I can.”

He shoved the two prescriptions he was so glad he’d filled last night at Ginger, trying to ignore the way all of them seemed to be staring at him. “Instructions are on the labels. He needs to finish all the antibiotics. All of them.” He didn’t have time to stress the importance of preventing antibiotic resistance, but he hoped they would take his word for it. “Let me go get-”

The door opened again and they all swiveled towards it. Ginger stepped between the blond and the door while Short One raised his gun again – but he didn’t shoot. In fact he just stared for a second, then lowered his gun with a smile.

“Loops.” He said, relieved, and – what?

The three men Nate had seen earlier were ushered into the room, the tallest one slapping the brunet on the shoulder, causing him to stumble as he flipped the safety of his gun back on and stashed it in the waistline of his pants.

The one in the front with caramel colored eyes looked between their group, one eyebrow arched. “Going somewhere? I thought I told you to stay put.”

Ginger laughed incredulously, shoulders slumping. “Holy shit, Loops. We thought you were someone else.”

Gray Eyes looked at Nate, exasperation clear in his gaze. “You told me they were here.”

Nate threw his arms up in defense. “You look at those guys and tell me you wouldn’t be suspicious.” He winced and looked at the newcomers, realizing that his words might be offensive. “Sorry.”

Neither of them seemed to take it to heart. The tall one just grinned and said, in a heavily-accented voice, “We still got it, eh, Nado?”

The one with the scar – Nado, apparently – just rolled his eyes and didn’t comment, but Nate could see one side of his mouth lifting into a smile. It softened his face, made him look more like a teddy bear than the scary, intimidating guy he’d seen in the lobby.

“We’ve got a car out back.” The one called Loops said, looking to the blond with gentle, understanding eyes. “You good to go?”

He nodded firmly, no room for second-guessing. “Let’s do this.”

Now, Nate didn’t exactly think it was a good idea to move a GSW patient out of a hospital only a day after getting shot, but – judging by how the others had reacted at the thought of people coming for them – it was safer for him to leave than to stay here. His brain, after all those years of medical classes and caffeine/anxiety induced all-nighters, was screaming in horror about complications and sepsis and bone fragments, but he didn’t voice them. He just reached for a pen and paper in his pocket. He scribbled his number down and handed it to his patient. “If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask, ok? I’d feel much better if you at least had a nurse with you, but this’ll have to do.”

He got a warm smile in response. “Thanks,” he said, voice and eyes serious. “For everything. Not many people would do what you did for us.”

Nate blinked. “I genuinely don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but thanks?” He still didn’t know who exactly he was helping, but then again, he guessed it didn’t really matter either way. They seemed like good people dealing with a shitty situation, and that was a good enough motive for him. “I’m going to grab that wheelchair quickly and I’ll be right back.”

He should’ve known that, by the time he got back, they’d already be gone – leaving no trace except for the disheveled sheets on the bed, two chairs next to it instead of the standard one, and the still humming machines and monitors.

Nate let himself slump against the wheelchair, forearms resting against the handles.

“What the fuck,” he said, with feeling.

***

Sirius was behind the steering wheel of a very old service van, watching six of them pile into the back and Loops slide into the passenger’s seat. His eyes didn’t stray long from Regulus, though. If he’d had enough time, he would’ve tackled his younger brother in a hug. Unfortunately, they were on a bit of a tight schedule. “Petition to never have to break someone out of a hospital again.” He said wryly, putting the van into drive and searching for the exit to the maze that was this parking garage. All the while, he was sneaking glances in the rearview mirror, unable to help himself.

“Where do I sign?” Finn deadpanned from the back row, sandwiched between Logan and Leo. They looked so tired. Leo didn’t hesitate to twist in his seat a little so that he could lean into Finn’s chest and close his eyes, looking absolutely miserable. Finn shifted just slightly, pressing a barely-perceptible kiss to a bird’s nest of curls and relaxing back into his seat.

Huh.

That was… new.

But then again, was it? Sirius thought back to the past several months of this operation and found that he really wasn’t that surprised. But then there was Logan…

“Turn left here.” Remus said, pulling him out of the thoughts, calm and in control like usual. His lips turned up into a smile as he flicked his turn signal on. He could see them doing exactly this, when all the chaos was said and done. Taking a roadtrip, Sirius behind the wheel and Remus navigating, going wherever they felt like. No worries or missions, just the two of them and the black top below them. He shelved the daydreaming for later.

“Where are we going?”

Sirius’ eyes flew back to the mirror at his brother’s voice – the first time he’d head it un-obscured by a phone or earpiece in too long. He’d missed him. He’d fought so hard for him, to get him out of that mess and keep him safe, and here he was. They’d done it.

Was he a horrible person, for feeling as relieved as he did? He’d inadvertently put the Cubs through hell for mostly selfish reasons. Sure, he wanted to take the Snakes down, but that paled in comparison to the safety of his brother. He’d let the Snakes walk away scot-free if it meant Reg was safe.

He didn’t know what kind of person that made him – he was too afraid to speculate about it.

“My family has a cabin about two hours away,” Remus replied, balancing his phone with the navigation app against the center console so that Sirius could see it. “It’s empty right now, so it’s a perfect hideout until we figure out next steps.”

Finn was asleep now, too, head pillowed on Leo’s. Logan stared sightlessly out the window beside them, stonily silent. Sirius ached for him. They were kindred spirits, he and Logan. Stubborn, fierce, bleeding hearts who cared too much and shouldered more than their fair share of the responsibility when things went wrong.

And things had really gone wrong.

“What are the next steps?” Reg asked as they left the city and headed towards the interstate. “This isn’t the only backup we’ve got, right?”

“Sleep,” Kuny told Regulus, not unkindly, “had big couple of days, yes? Plan later.”

Reg looked at the tall Russian sitting next to him for a second, then sighed and turned his gaze to the window.

Sirius drove on in silence.

Two hours and eighteen minutes later, he was pulling up on a gravel driveway to a quaint, two-story cabin. The jostling of the gravel under their tires seemed to wake everyone up, according to the grumbles and yawns Sirius could hear from behind him as he finally put the van in park. The doors opened and they were all climbing out of the van, stretching stiff muscles and groaning. The ones with bags in the trunk went to unload while Remus fished his keys out of his pocket and headed for the front door, bounding up the last two steps to the porch. He was equal parts glad and upset that they were here. He was grateful that the Cubs were safe now and that this cabin was so far off the grid that the Snakes wouldn’t find them. But bringing a bunch of coworkers to the place he went to escape work stuff… jeez. Not that he didn’t like his coworkers, but sometimes he needed a break from it all. Plus this place belonged to his family. Being here with anyone but them just felt wrong.

Remus opened the door, instantly on guard when he saw the kitchen light was on. Whoever was in there must’ve heard the door because Remus could hear the refrigerator door close, then loud footsteps headed towards them. His hand drifted to his gun and he cautiously flicked the safety off.

A head peeked out from the kitchen. All-too-familiar eyes widened excitedly. “Re?”

The safety quickly went back on. “Jules?”

He wasn’t supposed to be there. Their trip wasn’t for another week-

Remus’ younger brother beamed and launched himself towards him, leaping into Remus’ arms when he got close enough with an excited shout.

“What are you doing here? I thought you couldn’t make it this trip!”

“What am I – what are you doing here?” Remus shot back, tensing up when he heard footsteps behind him. “Your trip is supposed to be next week!”

“School got cancelled because of all the snow.” Jules peered around Remus at the gathering group behind him. “Who are they?”

“Jules?” The familiar voice of their mother called from down the hall. “Who are you talking to, honey?”

Oh god, this was something straight out of Remus’ nightmares. How the fuck was he supposed to explain all this to his family? The rest of their agents were supposed to drive up here tomorrow with gear and supplies and weapons for their final stand against the Snakes. That… there was no way to explain that. At all.

Fuuuuuuck.

Hope Lupin stepped around the corner, startling when she saw the crowd on her doorstep. “Remus?”

“I’m so sorry, mom,” he blurted, the words coming out in an unfiltered rush. “I didn’t know you’d be up here or else I would’ve-”

“Oh, nonsense. We’re happy to have you and your… friends.” She said sweetly, voice raising into an almost-question at the end. Remus, flying blind, said the first thing that came to mind.

“They’re work friends. And there’s a few more coming tomorrow, if that’s ok.”

“What happened to him?” Jules interrupted, wide eyes trained on Leo, who smiled faintly.

“Shoulder surgery,” Leo said easily, taking Remus by surprise a little at how easily he responded with a textbook spy tactic: tell the truth, but only enough to not raise suspicion. He technically wasn’t lying, either. It was harder to get caught lying when you technically hadn’t.

It seemed like the rookie was no longer a rookie.

“It was recent, wasn’t it?” Hope asked, eyes sharp with observation as she ushered them all inside. When Leo looked at her a little distrustfully and both Logan and Finn stiffened beside him, she sent them all a soothing smile. “I’m a nurse, I can tell.”

“About a day and a half ago.” Leo let her lead them to a couch and sat down, answering Hope’s questions calmly now, seeming to know she could be trusted. When Remus looked around again, he noticed that Sirius and Regulus were both absent, no doubt having a much-needed talk. He was struck with a twinge of worry, but pushed it back. He shouldn’t interfere. They needed some time alone to sort through things. Sirius would talk to him about it if he felt like it. Nado and Kuny were trying to sneak their way into the kitchen, looking for whatever smelled so good in there. For spies, they weren’t very subtle.

“What kind of shoulder surgery?” Jules asked, trailing after their mom. “Re had one a few years ago, too!”

Remus winced and shot Leo an apologetic look for his over-inquisitive brother. “Not quite the same, Jules.”

“All he does is sleep now,” Finn said teasingly as he took a step back and stretched out his leg with only a slight wince. “My jacket has drool all over it from the car ride here.”

Leo shot Finn an unheated glare as he sat up and opened his mouth to shoot back a reply when all of a sudden he went pale as a sheet, eyes dazed. Everyone in the room froze, looking at him nervously.

Finn was kneeling in front of him in a flash, Logan already holding his hand too tightly from his spot beside him. “Leo?”

The blond squeezed his eyes shut and leaned into Logan heavily. “Hurts,” he managed to grit out while Logan wrapped an arm around his waist and held him close, combing his fingers through a riotous mess of curls. He locked gazes with Finn and saw a different kind of pain from Leo’s, but identical to Logan’s, reflected there as he watched helplessly.

Maybe they should’ve accepted the risks and stayed at the hospital. They’d be sitting ducks there, but at least it wouldn’t be this. Logan would take the uncomfortable chairs and the nurse who talked too much and the stress over the heavy weight pressed against him, the shaky, too-measured breaths, the soulful brown eyes that matched his own.

It felt like all the decisions he’d been making recently were the wrong ones. It would be nice to not put his partners through pain because of his poor decisions for once.

Hope was by their side then, holding out a glass of water and two pills. Logan hadn’t even noticed Finn set the prescriptions down on the entryway table. “I think it’s time to take these now.” Leo refused to move from his current spot, but he took the pills and followed them with a quick drink of water. A muffled “thank you” was murmured into the material of Logan’s shirt, quiet and a little tense.

Hope just smiled sympathetically. “You’re probably going to get really sleepy in the next thirty minutes or so,” she continued, giving the three of them a look. Like she knew something. “So if there’s any conversations that can’t wait until the morning…”

Loops came by his eerie observation skills naturally, it seemed.

Logan looked to Remus and the others, hoping that all the planning could wait until the morning. They were exhausted. Surely they’d be ok without them for a few hours.

“Go get some rest,” Loops said gently, motioning down the hallway. “There’s a guest bedroom down there, second door on the left. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Finn made a beeline for the bathroom as soon as they reached the bedroom, muttering about how he’d needed to use the restroom since they’d all piled into the van. Leo toed off his shoes while Logan hovered, unsure if he should offer to help or not, his heart still in his throat. Leo just sent him a weary, affectionate smile. It tugged viciously at Logan’s heart and made him want to pull his partner close and not let go. Ever.

“I’m ok, sweetheart.”

He could’ve cried at the relief of hearing that nickname again. “You sure?” He asked, just to be safe.

Leo’s face was inscrutable as he cautiously sat down on the bed. “If I keep telling myself that… eventually I’ll start to believe it, right?”

Logan didn’t have an answer to that, not at first. But he remembered the feeling from after missions that had gone belly-up, the few that he wasn’t sure he was going to make it out of. The disbelief that somehow, after all of that, he was still alive and ok. It felt like trying to find his way through a snowstorm when all he could see was blinding, overwhelming white.

He wasn’t about to let Leo navigate that without a guide.

He sat down next to Leo and grabbed his hand, moving down to the pulse-point at his wrist and feeling tendons flex and shift under his fingertips. It beat, steady and strong, when he pressed down lightly. He knew Leo could feel it, too.

“You’re here.” Logan said simply. It was a tactic he used on bad days, when everything got to be too much. That little pulse, a sign of life and resilience. The two of them shared that now, that resilience and refusal to die that flowed through their veins.

Leo stared at him, eyes so soft and a hue that Logan wanted to engrave into his memory. “Logan,” he said quietly, right as Finn flung the bathroom door open again. His mouth was in the process of opening to tell a joke when he saw the two of them and snapped it shut again with an audible click, unsure of what to do next.

Leo shared a look with Logan and a conversation passed between the two, silent but apparently crystal clear. Finn couldn’t quite tell if it was excitement or anxiety dancing in his stomach, but either way he wasn’t sure he liked the sensation.

He had a feeling he knew what was coming. They’d been tip-toeing around this conversation for too long now, and they’d finally reached the tipping point. However this conversation went, he knew their relationship would never be the same, and that scared him. There was comfort in things known and familiar, after all.

This felt like hanging out of a perfectly-good plane and not knowing if the parachute strapped to his back was going to work or not.

But everyone who took the jump said it was worth it, in the end. Finn desperately hoped they were right.

“I think we should talk.” Logan said quietly, patting the open spot on the bed next to him. The dreaded words. No one ever wanted to hear those words.

Finn made his way towards them, too afraid to make eye contact, and sat down gingerly. Feet firmly planted on the floor, one hand braced on the bed, tense and ready to get up and take flight if he felt like he needed to. “We’re finally going to have this conversation, huh?” he asked with a fake laugh that fell flat, finally glancing up. Looking at the two of them, side by side and seeming to just know each other in a way Finn felt like he didn’t, he wondered where he fit into all of this.

If he fit in at all.

God, he hoped he fit in.

“Look,” Leo started, voice steady and resolute like he was getting ready to rip off the proverbial bandaid. It did nothing to calm Finn down. “Logan and I talked a while ago, about us. And, um – well, we want to be together. All three of us.”

Finn blinked once, twice. The words weren’t exactly computing, not after spending so long telling himself that this would never happen, could never happen. “Oh.”

“You had to know,” Logan said, sounding confused. “You had to know how we felt. None of us were exactly subtle.”

“I… I hoped.” Finn managed to get out before he got distracted by Logan’s soft touch against the curve of his cheekbone, creating his own constellations out of the freckles there. Finn let his eyes close and focused on the point of contact. He had hoped, even if he’d tried to stamp it out most days. He’d hoped and he’d yearned and he’d ached, and now – finally, unbelievably – he might be getting exactly what he’d wanted. “I knew how the two of you felt about each other, I just… wasn’t sure where that left me.”

“Finn…” He heard the sheets rustle as Leo scooted closer and opened his eyes again.

“Can you blame me?” Finn let Leo hold his hand and slot their fingers together, a painfully delicate motion. He stared down at them, noticing faint green bruising from an IV line and deeper, purple discoloration from that one time Finn tried to catch himself before he hit the ground after a brutal punch. They matched, in a sick, twisted way.

But they were both healing – skin stitching itself slowly back together and aches fading little by little. There was a poignant symbolism there, Finn thought, musing over the words he needed to say. Talking about the doubts and the hurt and the confusion surrounding the three of them might be painful in the moment, but healing would always follow, even if it took a while.

He was thrilled that they wanted him, don’t get him wrong, but that didn’t have the ability to just wipe away the hurt of the past week. “You seemed happy together, just the two of you.” He thought of the coffee shop and watching them from his table with June. Or the hotel room the next day, the stolen glances and furtive touches. “I didn’t want to get in the way of that, not if I wasn’t wanted.”

One of the other two made a broken sound; Finn wasn’t sure who it was. The hand on his cheek moved to his chin and Logan ducked his head to meet Finn’s eyes again, fierce and sincere – a combination that encompassed the very core of the fighter.

“I’ve wanted you since that crazy New Year’s party.” He said with conviction and Finn laughed a little at the memories.

“Then why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“Why didn’t you?” Logan challenged, signaling a change in the winds. Finn could see the storm brewing in those green eyes. “We were partners. Adding a relationship to the mix would only complicate things.”

“So what changed?” Finn let his frustration bleed through, ignoring Leo’s squeeze to his hand. “You’re saying two completely different things right now and it’s confusing as hell.”

Logan bit back, voice suddenly loud and harsh. “You think this is how I wanted to fall in love?”

Leo and Finn stared at him. No one had mentioned love. Not yet, at least. Logan seemed to recognize the intensity of his words and his shoulders slumped, but he didn’t take them back. Finn wasn’t sure if he was grateful for that or terrified because of it.

“It’s not supposed to be this hard, is it?” the brunet asked, voice a softer murmur. “Why couldn’t the three of us be normal and meet at, like, college or a coffee shop or something?”

Silence greeted him, heavy and suffocating.

“Because these are the cards we were dealt,” Leo said finally, looking between the two of them. “And yeah, it might be a shitty hand, but don’t you think it’d be worth it? After all that we’ve been through, choosing each other instead of letting the fear pull us apart?”

“Sounds like something out of a romance novel.”

Leo shrugged his good shoulder at Logan’s words, a conscientious effort to keep the other side of his body completely still. Finn ached a little at the sight. “Love isn’t easy, not for anyone. It’s a choice you make, day after day.” Blue eyes the color of a cloudless afternoon sky were calm and free of conflict when he looked at them again. “I’ve made my choice. What about you?”

Finn stared at him for what felt like forever, then blurted, “Did you rehearse that or something? What the fuck, Nutty.”

The resulting smile on Leo’s face was a welcomed reprieve from the earlier storm, placid and radiant. How was Finn supposed to do anything else but lean over, cup his cheeks in his hands, and press his lips against that smile?

Leo kissed a little distractedly, like he wasn’t quite sure what he wanted to do first. The hand not caught in a sling flitted from auburn hair to fist in his t-shirt, then migrated lower to wrap around Finn’s back, long fingers splayed against his spine. But his mouth was soft and sweet against Finn’s, returning his kisses happily, and the combination of the two were just so Leo that Finn’s stomach swooped and his heart flopped in his chest.

He pulled back for air, an unfortunate necessity, and took in the sight in front of him. Leo’s eyes were still closed and that smile still graced kiss-swollen lips as he swayed towards Finn, clearly wanting more. Finn smiled too, irrevocably charmed, and kissed his cheek, his jaw, that cute little indent in his chin, then the curve of his smile again. He could never, not in a hundred years, get enough of this.

And then Logan met his gaze from beside the blond, eyes fond and warm as he watched them and ran his fingers up and down Finn’s thigh, the motion raising goosebumps on Finn’s arms – the air dense and volatile around them like the instant before lightning struck. Finn needed to kiss him, too. To learn the difference between the way he kissed to keep up pretenses on a mission and the way he kissed when he meant it. Finn kept Leo close with a hand on his waist and tilted Logan’s head up to kiss him, deep and intense. It was thrilling and a little wild; so different from kissing Leo, but just as captivating. Always unpredictable, the kiss morphed from charged to surprisingly, achingly gentle – a thunderstorm melting into a comforting spring shower. Finn was reminded of shoving the couch up against the wall nearest to the window during storms as a kid, watching the raindrops track down the glass, and the sound of the world going silent save for the wind and the thunder and the rain hitting the roof like the pounding of drums – a symphony just for him to witness. He sighed against soft lips and sank into the kiss, listening for the intricacies of this new, unknown melody.

The rustle of clean sheets, a hitch in breath followed by a deep exhale, the steady beat of the old clock hung on the wall, a hum against his lips.

Then Leo was leaning in to kiss Finn’s pulse-point, firm enough to bruise and tender enough to make Finn’s eyelashes flutter. Finn canted his head to the side, stretching his neck to give Leo more skin to claim, and pulled Logan in again. A duet shifting to a trio and slotting perfectly into place, patching the gaps in the music that Finn didn’t even notice were there.

This was worth it. It had to be. As much as it would kill him – or any of them, really – to love them and then lose them, that would still be better than not loving them at all.

They’d wanted this for so long now, all of them. Even with all the stress and hurt and doubt, Finn couldn’t help but feel a little giddy. For fuck’s sake, he was kissing Logan. It wasn’t part of a mission. And Leo was still pressing kiss after kiss to his neck because he wanted to. They wanted each other.

Screw panicking about losing them. Finn was done missing things because he was worried about things that might not even happen. It wasn’t something he could just will away or turn off, of course, but he could actively make sure he was living in the current moment. And right then, the current moment was making out with his boys in a cabin in the middle of nowhere.

He loved the current moment.

The kiss turned to simply smiling against Logan’s mouth, delirious with contentment, so Finn broke away and pulled Logan in for a hug, then gently maneuvered Leo to join them, making sure his wound was well out of the way. They stayed like that for a long time, relaxing in the closeness and adjusting to the newness of all of this. And even though it was new, it was already something they were quickly getting addicted to. The string connecting Finn’s heart to theirs cinched tighter and pulled sharply. For the first time, he didn’t mind it in the slightest. It was no longer a painful reminder of what he couldn’t have, it was an exhilarating sign that were all irreversibly intertwined, both in each other’s arms and in this crazy mess that was their lives.

Leo interrupted the moment with a yawn, blinking sleepily. Finn smiled a little at the sight – he almost felt like he was doing too much of that in the past few minutes, but sleepy Leo was simply adorable.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed.” Logan urged. It would be a tight squeeze, the three of them in that bed, but now they could cuddle and press close without pretending it didn’t happen the next morning. Finn sighed happily at the thought and headed for the light switch. The light from the lamp on the bedside table illuminated his way back to his boys, all soft and stretched out next to each other under a pale comforter. It was a much-needed reprieve from the chaos of their current situation that Finn was all to eager to take advantage of.

He watched as Logan propped himself up on one arm to look down at Leo, hand trailing through that tuft of gray hair and then tugging on it playfully. They shared a smile before Logan leaned down the rest of the way to kiss him, assured and familiar and unrushed. They’d done this before. The knowledge didn’t tear at Finn’s heart like it would have a week ago, because now he knew that they felt the same way about him. And he was falling for them, too. Watching the two boys he was half in love with already so comfortable and loving with each other? How was Finn supposed to handle all the emotions bubbling over in his chest? He crawled into bed next to Logan and flicked the lamp off, settling the room into darkness.

Logan settled in to sleep facing Finn and with Leo’s reassuring warmth behind him. His eyes closed and time slowed, a blessed mercy. The events of tomorrow felt years away in that still, quiet moment. But there was something prodding at the back of Logan’s mind – some strange, uncomfortable feeling that he could quite place, until he realized that everything was too still, too quiet. His mind flashed to the litany of “what ifs” that had looped in his brain like a mantra back in that hospital room and he rolled over quickly, shuffling over until his head was pillowed on Leo’s chest, far away from the bandages.

Thump-thump.

Leo’s chest rose and fell under Logan’s head as he breathed and Logan let himself relax, reaching blindly behind him until he found Finn’s arm and flung it over himself, loosely intertwining their fingers over his chest. Finn moved in closer to press against his back and tangle their legs together. He sighed before going still again, breaths deep and even.

And Logan finally, finally let himself drift off to sleep.

#lumosinlove #sweater weather #coast to coast #coops #remus lupin #sirius black #o'knutzy #finn o'hara #logan tremblay #leo knut #clandestine #cw: hospital #cw: injuries #cw: mentions of blood #cw: medical drugs

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